Chapter 92

"They're waiting for you."

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Alistair nodded, but didn't look up from the piece of paper in his hand. He didn't say anything. Leliana quietly closed the door and came up to him.

"They need you," she said softly. With a sigh, Alistair leaned forward and buried his face in her stomach. He heard her sigh and then felt her fingers comb through his hair. "They need a leader."

"I know." Alistair wrapped his arms around her waist. "I barely even know what to say."

"You won't until you start talking."

"Is that how it works?"

"Yes."

"It still seems unreal, you know? I always knew that maybe I'd have to face this day, but..."

"Nothing prepared you for it."

"Yes. Do you feel that?"

"Every day. I'm sure he did, too."

Alistair sighed again. Go be a bloody Warden. That had been a very Aedan thing to say. He just hoped he was right for the job. Regardless, it was time to see to the duty that could not be forsworn.

So Alistair rose to his feet tiredly, still clutching the piece of paper. Leliana cupped his face and kissed his forehead, but said nothing more. It was his turn to do the talking.

Outside his room, he found a familiar face.

"I just wanted to tell you that I will do my best to live up to the potential you've seen in me," said Thom Rainier earnestly. "He was a hero. I'll honour him with every step."

Thom Rainier, who previously went by Blackwall, had been punished by being handed over to the Grey Wardens. He had survived the Joining, and seemed proud to be a full-fledged Warden. Alistair nodded and patted his shoulder.

"Good man," he muttered as he walked past him.

The surviving Wardens of Orlais had all gathered in the courtyard. Initially, there were some tensions, but Alistair and Cullen had together made the two forces work together. It hadn't been easy, and it had come at a cost.

The Wardens demanded answers. Why hadn't Clarel told them about Corypheus? Why hadn't Weisshaupt done anything? Why should they continue to fight for a cause when they didn't know the endgame? If secrets were to be kept, who decided where to draw the line?

They hadn't gotten hostile yet, but given time, they would. That was a certainty. As it was, the Fereldan Wardens had arrived in force to help. Skyhold had become a melting pot of Wardens, and they needed to be addressed.

As he arrived on the balcony, he could see them all milling about, talking amongst themselves. Alistair stood and watched them all for a moment until someone noticed him and pointed, and the entire mass fell silent. They were waiting for him, he realised, and still he didn't have the words.

"I know you're expecting a speech," he began. "But you're in for a disappointment. I don't think my words, or anyone else's for that matter, are enough to do justice to what we have gone through. We've all suffered. Warden-Commander Clarel, though her intentions were pure, made a grave error. Something that should never have been done." He shook his head. "But it happened. It was no dream. Adamant was a reality and we only have ourselves to blame for it.

"I would like to thank the Inquisitor for allowing us the opportunity to redeem ourselves. Given the circumstances, I honestly don't know whether I could have made the same decision that she did. That takes boldness and fortitude. I would also like to thank the Inquisition's Commander, Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford, for his immense contribution to ratifying and enacting this alliance. The Inquisition has placed its faith in us, and let us reward it."

Pin-drop silence. Every face was gazing up at him, some nodding along with his words. Alistair glanced back at Leliana and Fiona, who stood behind him. They nodded and smiled at him, and he nodded back. It was time to be a Grey Warden.

"This," he held up the piece of paper, "is Aedan Cousland's Will. It was written a few days ago, after the ball at Halamshiral. It's short, so allow me to read it to you." He took a deep breath:

"My name is Aedan Cousland. I was born on the fourth of Wintermarch, 9:11 Dragon, to Teyrn Bryce Cousland and Teyrna Eleanor Cousland of Highever. I hereby denounce all titles granted to me in life, especially that of the Hero of Ferelden. It is misguided, as I feel there was no Hero of Ferelden. There were thirteen: Lucien, Alistair, Morrigan, Leliana, Sten, Wynne, Solona, Zevran, Oghren, Faren, Shale, Loghain, and myself. It would be inappropriate for me to claim sole responsibility for anything that happened in regards to the Fifth Blight.

"My property, namely the Cousland family blade, I leave to my son. I am not wedded to the mother of my child, but I would like him to be acknowledged as my heir if his mother is of the same mind.

"I appoint my brother, Teyrn Fergus Cousland of Highever, as Executor of my Will. If he is unable to serve, I name Warden-Commander Alistair Theirin as alternate Executor.

"To all the Grey Wardens who have served under me, and those who serve elsewhere all around Thedas, I salute you. Your sacrifice is appreciated by your brothers and sisters, even if the times don't. Never lose heart.

"I write this willingly, and in full possession of my senses and wits."

Alistair stopped and folded the letter. The assemblage of Wardens said nothing. Their silence was a sign of respect to the hero. After putting the letter in his pocket, he gazed down at them all, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

"That was the kind of man he was. Many of you knew him, served under him. You know what he was like. Always leading by example, always taking the brunt of everything, always shielding those under him." He shook his head amid cries of 'Aye!' and 'Truth!' "Unfortunately, this will won't ever be executed as it lacks the signatures of witnesses, because the dumb bastard never told me he'd written one. That was another side of him. He wanted to shield his people too much. He gave too much of himself. Every time. And now, he's gone because of it."

Alistair stood in silence for a moment. "I honestly don't know what to tell you. The man was a hero precisely because he didn't want to be. When something like this happens, one would usually contact Weisshaupt, but that hasn't been working very well for us."

Boos resounded from the crowd.

"They offered Clarel no help!" came a heavy Orlesian voice.

"We are still awaiting instructions! It takes time to select a successor!"

"What instructions? They're busy playing leader in their Tower!"

"Montmorency is right! They care nothing for us!"

Glancing briefly at Leliana, Alistair raised his hands to mollify the crowd. "As someone wise once told me, mercy and compassion are attributes only the strong are privileged to possess. So let us be strong, brothers and sisters. It won't be easy, but what worth achieving in life is? We have rebuilt the Order once, we shall do so again.

"Wardens, today you are faced with a choice. You can pack up your bags and go north after all this is over. It's fine. Understandable. Under the circumstances, it would be the legal thing to do. There will be no ill-will. I guarantee this." There were a few nods.

This is it. Make or break time.

"Or, you could stay and say 'Fuck you' to Weisshaupt." He paused for a breath. "Yes, you have a choice, but let me assure you that you will find nothing but rot and powermongering at Weisshaupt. We have been on our own for a very long time. When was the last time Weisshaupt offered any real help? I didn't see them during the last Blight. The Orlesian branch came to help, and that too without orders from Weisshaupt. What's legal isn't always what's morally right, and I think most of us know what the right thing to do is in this situation.

"I won't lie to you, and I won't keep any secrets from you – ever since the False Calling, we've been looking for a cure for the Taint. This is Grand-Enchanter Fiona, formerly a Warden of Orlais." He waved her forward. "She's the first Warden to be cured of the Taint, so we know it's possible. She's also my mother."

She held onto his arm as the Wardens muttered amongst themselves. Alistair let them, for a bit. It was revolutionary new information, after all. But he wasn't finished.

"Wardens! Stand with me, and we will rebuild ourselves, we will continue to protect Thedas from Blights, and we will find a cure, and we'll do it with or without the First Warden's permission! Let them play their games at Weisshaupt! It's time for us to take responsibility and improve ourselves! It's time for us to be bloody Grey Wardens!"

The Wardens erupted in applause, cheers and whistling.

"No more secrets!"

"No more lies!"

"A cure!"

"I'm with the Fereldan Warden-Commander!"

"The man ended a Blight! I'm with him!"

"He's been leading us ever since Clarel died!"

"He's a bloody hero!"

"Down with Weisshaupt!"

"Was that good?" Alistair muttered and Fiona nodded proudly.

"The Ferelden and Orlesian branches have merged." There was a proud smile on her face. "This is unprecedented. You have done spectacularly, my son."

Nodding, Alistair looked at Leliana, who had come to stand on his other side. She was watching the spectacle unfold with a smile. He put his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

Aedan had told him to be a Grey Warden. For once, he wanted to meet and exceed the man's expectations. It was no less than he deserved.

It was time to be Warden-Commander Theirin.