Chapter 11

Alistair's mind was disquiet. Which he thought was normal, considering the events of the previous night.

During dinner – which he had painstakingly made to the best of his ability – Wynne addressed everybody in the party and told them about her... condition. She'd apparently died in the Tower of Magi and a benevolent Fade spirit had possessed her body, thereby bringing life to her. However with time, the spirit's power was fading and when it completely faded, the mage would drop dead.

The way she'd collapsed three days ago had been a sign that the link was indeed weakening.

Being a Warden, Alistair knew full well that the journey they were on would see casualties. The fact that they'd made it as far as they had without losing anybody was in itself miraculous. He went to sleep at night knowing that a scenario where people within the party would die was incredibly probable.

But that wasn't why he was upset currently.

The young man had not slept. First watch had been his and Sten's and afterwards, he'd lain awake in his tent. As soon as the eastern sky had lightened, he'd taken his sword and gone off into the woods. Aedan and Oghren had second watch and not a word had been exchanged between them as he left camp. They understood.

The party had camped on the western fringes of the great Brecilian forest. Many legends surrounded the forest. Legends about ghosts and spirits of long dead warriors walking the forest still. Many wars had been fought at the place and many people had died. Wouldn't be surprised if the bastards still walked around.

Originally, he'd meant to meditate. The quiet stillness of the forest was a good place for meditation, but with the mental turmoil he was currently in, he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough.

So he did something equally soothing. He practiced his forms.

Alistair took his stance: knees slightly bent, body turned to present a smaller target, right palm open and outstretched hand level with his shoulder and left palm hovering under his chin. He then dropped his right hand and brought his left palm up to the right, as if slapping away an invisible blow. Then he brought his right arm back while pulling away his left, this time blocking another imaginary blow before kicking off the ground with his right leg, bending his torso backwards a little and thrusting out with his foot, as if kicking his foe in the gut with a straight kick.

Then he immediately went back to his original guard position, one hand outstretched and the other held back, as if waiting for an incoming attack. When he felt it was coming, Alistair leaned into it, reaching out with his left hand and clasping his hands in mid-air, as if catching his opponent with the clasped hands behind their head. Thus trapped, the foe had nowhere to go, and Alistair raised his left knee and drove it into the ribcage.

He didn't retreat, however. He had the bastard on the defensive and he knew it. Now he had to set the rhythm for the match and end it.

Still having his opponent trapped, Alistair turned moving his opponent with him in a semi-circular arc from right to left, using the balls of his feet to turn himself. Once turned, the opponent would be unbalanced and Alistair released his head, spinning at the waist and driving his left elbow into his temple, sending him sprawling to the ground.

He'd get up. He always did. He was tough. He was the Hero of River Dane. His martial prowess was the stuff of legends.

And he did get up. He came at him, only Alistair was waiting. It was a scything kick aimed for his left flank, which Alistair caught by looping his arm around the incoming shin, then nailing a vicious palm-up punch straight into Loghain's stomach. He let Loghain's leg go, and the Hero staggered back, clutching at his injured stomach.

Time to press the advantage.

Alistair took a step forward and closed the gap. He wouldn't let Loghain slip away, no sir.

As he closed the distance, Alistair brought his arms back and twisted to his right at the waist, winding his body like a spring in a Dwarven clock, before twisting his torso to the left, at Loghain, and striking out with an open palm strike over the heart of Loghain, while his hovering left forearm enabled him to elbow the whoreson in the solar plexus.

Then he immediately drew himself back, preparing for the next attack. For Loghain would not go down with just that. He would get back up. He would come for more.

He always did.

And he didn't disappoint.

As Loghain came at him with straight thrust kick, Alistair spun on the ball of his left foot, turning his body in a half circle to the left so that his right side now faced the incoming kick. In turning, Alistair had spun out of the trajectory of Loghain's kick and closed the distance. Which meant he only had to raise his right elbow and Loghain's sternum would crash into it just as he looped his left arm around the outstretched leg.

Having trapped the right shin, Alistair swept Loghain's left foot and sent him down to the ground on his back.

Checkmate.

Then, he spread his legs and folded his knees, bending forward slightly as he dropped his fisted hands into Loghain's chest and stomach respectively, forcing the wind out of the man and ending the fight.

Alistair then swiped the sweat from his brow with a thumb and looked up at the sky through the dense foliage, hands on his hips.

"The sun hasn't even risen yet," he said aloud.

Time was a funny thing, he decided. Sometimes it flew by too quickly and sometimes it just couldn't pass fast enough. Perhaps it was confused about what it wanted to do in life.

He was about to remove his tunic and use it as a makeshift towel, but stopped when he heard rustling in the brush to his right. Alistair stopped and stared for a moment. Whatever it was, the creature was big. Probably a wild dog or boar, judging from the noise. It wasn't disguising its movement.

Alistair spied his sword, which was leant up against a nearby tree. Unsheathed, thankfully. The rustling got louder and he took a step towards his weapon.

When Leliana walked into the clearing with a bow in one hand and three rabbits in the other, Alistiar breathed a sigh of relief. "It's only you."

The rogue tilted her head in surprise. "Alistair? What are you doing up so early?"

Alistair pulled up his tunic and wiped his face free of sweat with it. "Couldn't sleep," he replied as he straightened. "Thought I'd get some exercise."

"Oh. I see."

They hadn't spoken in a while. Ever since the debate regarding letting Zevran join. While he knew full well that they needed all the help they could get, recruiting someone who had tried to kill them was where Alistair drew the line.

Though he hated how awkward their conversation now seemed, he didn't really know how to make it better. Leliana was a friend. A good friend. They'd connected easily right from when they'd met at Lothering. He'd had some initial... reservations about her, though. What with all the talk of the Maker having spoken to her in a dream.

I've had reservations about most of the people who've joined us. Huh.

Still didn't mean he approved of Zevran.

Right. Conversation. Leliana.

He pointed at the rabbits that hung by her side. "Breakfast?"

"Yes," the woman answered. "I woke up early and decided to go for a hunt. I haven't in so long that I really wanted to give it a try again. I'm glad I got something to show for it."

"Well, it's a change. We've been chomping on fruits and eggs for almost a half year now." Alistair turned away from her and sheathed his word. "Going back to camp?"

"Mhmm. Will you be here a while? Exercise?"

"I really don't know." He paused. "Maybe. For a while. You go on ahead. I'll be there in a while," he said over his shoulder.

In truth, he wasn't really ready to face Wynne again. Not yet.

"Alistair? Are you all right?"

Caught off-guard, Alistiar turned around. "Of course. Why?"

"Is it about what Wynne said?"

Completely disregards the lie. "You're really good at this game, huh?"

When Leliana didn't reply, he rubbed the back of his neck. "How'd you know?"

"The tone of your voice. It's a good indicator of how you're really feeling."

Alistair sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look. I know that everyone dies, okay? You don't have to tell me that. What has me worried more is the fact that a Fade spirit is keeping her alive. I mean, what if it's a malevolent demon in benevolent clothing? What if Wynne turns into an abomination?" He looked at her. "Among us all, who do you think is best suited to take an abomination down?"

Leliana had nothing to say to that.

"See? It's one thing accepting death and another thing entirely preparing oneself to put someone else – a friend at that – down." Alistair rubbed his face with his palms. "Maker, Leli. I've lost every fucking person I've ever held dear. I thought I was over this whole thin-"

He stopped short when Leliana hugged him, surprised. Somewhere during his moaning, she'd dropped her bow and the rabbits and he hadn't even noticed. The redhead had her shoulders tucked beneath his and her fingers linked around the small of his back. Her head came up to his throat, and she placed her cheek upon his chest.

"Not everyone," she whispered.

Alistair dropped his hands from his face to his sides.

"Wynne has been a mage long before you and I were born, Alistair. I'd trust her knowledge of the Fade," she continued. "Not to say that your conclusion is an impossibility. But I think you're worrying too much. If such a situation arises, we'll all deal with it." She pulled away slightly to look up at him. "Consider this: We are dealing with darkspawn, Alistair. Any one of us could get tainted. It's a very real possibility. Could be me or Solona or Morrigan or Sten... anybody. What would you do then?"

He looked away.

"Personally, I think the best thing we can do for Wynne now is to make sure she has no regrets. That when her time comes, she can pass along happy." Alistair looked down to find her smiling wistfully. "Don't you think?"

Nodding, Alistair said, "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be nice." Then his sighed and placed his right palm atop Leliana's head and smiled. "And thank you. For that. I needed a talking to. I would've talked to you before but..."

At that, Leliana shook her head. "It's okay. I'm just glad you talked." Then she let go of him. "So we're friends again?"

Alistair laughed. "Oui. That'll never change."

"Good. I'm glad," Leliana offered a warm smile after picking up her bow and her quarry. "Now do you want to exercise some more or come to camp? I'm making breakfast. Rabbit stew, cooked Orlesian style."

"You know what, food sounds really good right now. I'll work it off later, eh?"