Chapter 31
The Dragon Age was so named because dragons had been sighted in Thedas after centuries of being thought extinct. And not the ones that looked like scaly, toothy dogs that lived on horse meat. These were the big ones. These were High Dragons, the ones that made the ground shake.
Alistair had read that dragons existed only to kill, that they fed on anything. Not even the dreaded Darkspawn were that savage.
But now that he was face-to-face with one, he didn't know what to make of the fact that it wasn't attacking. It was looking right at him, serpentine eyes locked with his, unmoving. It was hypnotic. Almost like it was peering into his soul.
None of the others dared move. The only sound came from the dragon itself as it breathed. Alistair gulped. Flemeth's dragon form doesn't hold a candle to this.
After what seemed like hours of staring, the dragon unfurled its wings and with a few powerful flaps, hoisted itself into the air and flew back to the mountaintop it probably called home. Alistair remained transfixed even after it was gone.
Zevran was the first to speak. "So that was abnormal, yes?"
"Very," Aedan replied. "I'm pretty sure that was the Andraste Kolgrim was talking about."
"A cult of dragon worshippers?"
"That's the only logical explanation I have."
"And yet after witnessing a dragon, you fools seem rather reluctant to hold your deliberations inside the Temple, where the giant lizard cannot mistake you lot for treats."
Sound logic. For a witch. Alistair had to admit that the prospect of having a dragon swoop down on them wasn't ideal. He grimaced as the party made its way back to the Temple, having gathered a pinch of the ashes already.
I hope these magical ashes actually help Eamon.
They were quiet on the way back to the entrance, stepping around the bodies of slain dragonlings and cultists alike. The path to the Urn had been rife with obstacles, ranging from ghosts with riddles, intrusive questions from a guardian spirit and having to walk naked through fire. Alistair doubted Zevran would stop talking about the last one anytime soon.
The reward, however, had been worth it. All his life Alistair had been preached at by the Chantry about Andraste and her struggle and betrayal. Now, having seen that at least parts of the tale were true... it was truly humbling.
He hung back until he was beside Leliana and said, "Back at the fire-trial... you should know that I didn't look."
"Hmm?" she looked up, distracted. "Oh. It's all right, Alistair. I knew you wouldn't."
He hummed. "Something on your mind?"
She said nothing.
"It's what that guardian spirit said, isn't it?"
No reply.
Alistair took off his helmet and carried it under his arm. "For what it's worth, I think you're free to believe what you want to believe. I don't think–"
"He was right."
"Ehh?"
"The guardian. He said that people in the Chantry didn't believe me. That is true. But it is also true that I enjoyed the attention. Regardless of how negative it was." She shook her head. "But in no way did I ever think myself Andraste's equal."
This time it was Alistair who remained silent.
"It was part of why I wanted to come with you, really. I wanted to get away from it all. The Chantry does not do anyone any spiritual favours. Not anymore. It is more about controlling one's thoughts and policing one's speech. That is not what faith is supposed to be." She sucked in a breath. "What brought me to the folds of the Chantry was acceptance and forgiveness. Both seem to be on short supply these days."
"Maybe," Alistair said and ran his fingers through his hair. "The way I see it, you're free to interpret your faith in any way you wish, as long as it doesn't hurt somebody. Your claims of the Maker speaking to you and not them must've threatened them."
"I know now."
"The real question is whether you regret leaving. Whether you regret joining us on our merry quest to slay a dragon and save the world. And become complete psychopaths in the process."
A snort. "No, Alistair. I do not regret anything. Far from it, in fact."
"Hmm?"
"I've enjoyed every moment of this journey. Felt alive."
"Even when people and monsters have tried to kill us?"
"Pfft. Occupational hazard."
He had to laugh at that. His free hand Alistair looped around Leliana's shoulder and pulled her into a quick hug.
"That's more like it," he told her before letting go. He couldn't handle contact for much longer than a few moments. I am such a loser.
"Thank you, Alistair."
"Don't mention it."
One day, he'd grow out of the cocoon of awkwardness in which his interactions with Leliana were encased in, but it wouldn't be that day.
A/N: Happy New Year, folks! I hope good things come to you this year. See y'all in a few months!