A/N: A new chapter on time and everything! As you might have guessed from the title, a certain cameo happens in this chapter so the chapter is mainly one of discussions as there are a lot of things to catch up on! Not a lot of action in this one for those who like that but we'll be getting back to regular plots and actions in another couple of chapters for sure, possibly even at the end of the next one. Hope everyone enjoys!
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Chapter 14: Family Reunion
Mardin made his way down the steps from the Viscount's Keep. He'd just been to see Brianna's friend Aveline, the Captain of Kirkwall's City Guard, about whether he'd assist in training her guards. In the end, they'd come to an agreement that had satisfied both of them; he'd come to the training grounds three times a week for the afternoon and put the guards through drills while she supervised, so long as he didn't have to be somewhere else. He found that he liked Aveline; she was no-nonsense, loyal and blunt, and cared deeply for the men and women under her command, something he could appreciate.
However, it wasn't her that his thoughts lingered on as he reached the bottom of the stairs; it was, as it had been for the past week since their return from the Deep Roads, on Brianna and the afternoon they'd spent together the day they'd returned.
Their encounter that day had shaken him more than he'd cared to admit. It was not because his passion for her was more consuming than he'd realized at first, or so much out of his control. Or, not only because of that. He'd never had a lot of self-control when it came to lust, since he'd never needed to, but he'd surprised even himself with how little control he had with Brianna. In spite of knowing that she'd been drinking, was grieving and not in her right mind, he'd been unable to stop himself from giving her the kiss she'd asked for, and so much more. Indeed, he admitted, he would've bedded her then and there once he'd finished tasting her, had not that burst of her magic surprised him so much that he'd been able to gain control of himself. Even then, it had taken everything he had to let her leave.
Still, though he regretted his loss of control, he didn't regret what it had led to; how could he? He'd finally discovered that the taste of her arousal was not only as good as the smell, but was in fact better; heady, sweet, devastating, overwhelming. He wanted to taste her again so badly he'd agree to almost anything she asked of him, he thought, once she gave him those conditions she'd talked of. He had seen little of her this past week, though, as she spent time with her mother, helped Varric sell the treasure they'd acquired, and went about petitioning the Viscount to reclaim her mother's home.
Which was fine, he told himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. He could wait, now that he knew he would get a second chance; he wasn't entirely without patience, after all. Besides, it was probably just as well to have some space from her and from the confusing emotions she'd aroused within him. That was what had truly shaken him that day; not his desire for her, but that it had actually pained him to see her cry, to see her grieve and blame herself for what had happened. He would have done anything to make her feel better, to comfort her, and indeed, he had.
When she'd asked about his mother, about his childhood, he'd told her, because he would have done anything she asked right then. He'd told her everything about his mother's death and what he'd lost, something he'd never told anyone before, ever. He and Father had never spoken about the circumstances surrounding Mother's death; he suspected Father had been no more capable of talking about it than he had. He'd told Ayla a bit, when she was older and had pestered him, but he'd protected her from most of the messy details of it; he couldn't bear to burden his little sister with the knowledge of what they'd lost. And to anyone else who'd ever asked, friends and fellow Order members and former lovers, he'd only said that she died of an illness when he was young, and had refused to offer anything further.
But all Brianna had had to do was ask, and he'd spilled the whole story right at her feet. And oddly enough, he'd actually felt better after telling her, after she'd comforted him and wiped away the few stray tears he'd been too weak to prevent. That was the most terrifying part of all; that she'd succeeded in comforting him, that he'd wanted to tell her more, to spill his guts to her and show her everything he felt, every messy, complicated emotion.
He didn't do complicated; he never had. The longest he'd ever been with a woman was six months with an amazingly flexible member of the King's Knights. And complicated emotions had never entered into that; he'd enjoyed her company, laughing and joking with her, sparring with her both in bed and out, but that was it.
He steered clear of complicated emotions with women because that could lead to love, and he refused to make himself that vulnerable. He only had one person left in any world that he loved, and that was his sister. He didn't need to add anyone to that list, or he'd end up just like his father, a mere shell of his former self.
Still, he couldn't steer clear of Brianna. Besides the fact that his desire for her was so deep, so sharp and immediate that he'd never be able to stop thinking about it until he'd had her in full, was the fact that she was part of his destiny here in Thedas. He couldn't avoid her even if he wanted to; he had a destiny to fulfill.
He'd just have to make sure he kept it simple, that was all, he reassured himself. He was still in control; he could lock away the complicated emotions and keep everything simple between them. He cared for her, and that was fine; he cared for a lot of people. He wanted her, and that was fine too. He'd wanted – and had – a lot of women. He'd just make sure his feelings never went any further than that, because they couldn't, and because he wouldn't allow it.
"Mardin!" Her voice cut through his thoughts as he crossed one of the many courtyards in Hightown, and he halted, turning to see Brianna walking towards him as though his thoughts had conjured her up, her smile bright, sending a shaft of pure want through him. "I was actually just on my way to the mansion to find you and Fenris. I've got some news, and a favour to ask."
"Good news, I hope?" he asked casually, a little disappointed she hadn't only been coming to see him. Which meant the favour probably wasn't precisely what he wanted it to be, either.
She stopped just in front of him, still smiling, and he could see the relief in her eyes. "Very good news. I got a letter yesterday from Carver; he's survived the Joining and will be heading back to Ferelden soon with Nathaniel and the other Wardens."
"That's great," he said sincerely. He'd become fond of Carver himself during their weeks of training, and was relieved to hear he was alive, and also that he'd not entirely failed his vow to keep him safe. "I told you he'd be all right."
"You did. Thank you, again, for everything." She hugged him, startling him not only with how automatically he returned the hug, but also with the unfamiliar warmth that spread through his chest when he did.
Keep it simple. And what was simpler than lust? He breathed deeply of the smell of vanilla and lemon that surrounded her, that floated up from the waves of her chocolate-brown hair, letting it spike his arousal, and whispered in her ear, "Have I told you how beautiful you look lately? Or how good you smell?"
He was pleased when he felt the shiver go through her as he brushed his lips down her neck, nibbling at the silky skin there, and when he smelled the sudden spike of her arousal from his action, making his blood burn. She put a hand to his chest, though, pushing him back lightly, and he sighed as he reluctantly let her.
"No, you haven't," she said, smiling up at him again even as she shook her head, "but thank you for that, too. Though next time you might want to tell me somewhere a little more private." She nodded at the various people walking by them and milling about Hightown in the bright summer sunshine.
"I suppose that's a good point." He grinned at her. "Want to go somewhere more private, and I can tell you how you taste like honey and wine?"
Her remarkable violet eyes flared with lust, and he felt smug satisfaction both when he saw it and when he smelled the fresh wave of her arousal. Yes, honey and wine, definitely. "Not right now," she replied, though she sounded a trifle breathless. She took his arm and tugged on it to get him walking again, heading in the direction of the mansion. "Besides, I have that favour to ask right now, and you've just reminded me that we haven't talked about my conditions yet."
He willingly let himself be pulled along; though he would've preferred that she take him up on his offer, it was enough to know for now that he affected her as much as she did him. "Right. So what are your conditions?"
She darted a glance up at him as they walked through Hightown, and then looked forward again. "Well, first, and most importantly, if you want to be with me, then I would expect you to only be with me, for however long we're together. If I so much as hear of you kissing another woman, then we're done, and there will be no third chance. Ever. Can you agree to that?"
"Of course. If I'm with you, then I'm with you, and no one else. That is how I normally conduct my relationships." Which was true; in the past, if he'd discovered he wanted another woman more than the one he was currently bedding, he simply ended things and moved on. Trying to bed two women was simply more trouble than it was worth. That wasn't a problem; what was a problem was how easy he suspected it would be to hold to this condition. He hadn't even thought of or noticed another woman recently. "Honestly, if I hadn't thought you were done with me before, I would never have –"
"Yes, okay," she interrupted him, holding up her free hand to stop him. "We've been over that enough, I think. I'll take you at your word. Anyway . . . my next condition would be . . ." she hesitated. "I find the . . . passion you make me feel overwhelming, sometimes. So if I'm getting overwhelmed, and I ask you to stop, I need to know you'll stop. And that you know it's not because I don't want you, but just because I need a moment, or some space."
She felt overwhelmed by him? Goddess, if she hadn't basically clobbered him over the head with her magic last time, whether it had been intentional or not, he would have been completely lost to all good sense. Still, he understood what she was saying, and felt not a small amount of male pride at the thought that her passion for him was overwhelming. The mere thought was enough to send another jolt of lust through him, which he sternly reminded himself to ignore for the moment. "Of course. Whenever you tell me to stop, I'll stop. And since I find it a bit hard to think when I'm around you, myself, if I don't respond right away, feel free to blast me with your magic. I won't hold it against you." He smiled down at her, though he met her eyes gravely enough to let her know he was serious about that, since he wasn't entirely sure he could trust himself around her.
She laughed. "All right, if you don't get off me right away when I ask, then I'll blast you off."
"See that you do," he agreed. "I'm tough enough to take it. Anything else?"
"There are a couple more things. One, I've decided that I will keep taking on some jobs. I know I don't really need to, anymore, but I think I'd get bored otherwise, and besides, it seems like somebody needs to do it. So if you want to keep helping me with those jobs as well as – um, be lovers, then I'd have to ask that you still follow my lead, that it doesn't affect the way we are on the job, so to speak." Her face had flushed a charming pink as soon as she'd stumbled over calling them lovers, and he found it ridiculously adorable considering the things they'd done together already.
He tamped his smile down, though, and nodded formally in response to her request, appreciating the need for it. He was – and had always been – a soldier before he was anything else, whether that be a son, or brother, or lover. "Duty first, absolutely. I can assure you I have no problem following your lead, or taking your orders." He couldn't resist adding with a wink, "Wherever and whenever you choose to give them."
She rolled her eyes at him, though her face flushed a deeper pink. "Good, then. There's just one more thing. I need you to answer a question, and answer it honestly, and then you get your second chance."
He was instantly wary. What sort of question would she want to ask that she felt the need to demand honesty from him? But, he reminded himself, he would do almost anything to taste her again, to hear her scream for him again. How hard could it be to answer a question if it meant he could have all that? He nodded. "Ask your question, then, and I'll answer honestly."
She stopped him, for they had reached the door to the mansion by now, and turned him to face her. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why me? You said you didn't just want sex from me, that you could have been with another woman if that's all you wanted. So why did you want a second chance with me?" she demanded.
Damnú air. She would have to ask something like that. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because, like I said, my desire for you is overwhelming. I've wanted plenty of women before, but I've never wanted one enough that I couldn't even think, or control myself. But when it comes to you . . ." he shrugged. "You're different. I guess . . . I want to know why you're different." And why she could get him to say things like that, things he'd rather not ever say.
Also why, he thought as she gave him a sudden, dazzling smile, she could take his breath away so easily. "Then you have your second chance," she informed him. "So long as you can promise that there are no more lies or secrets between us."
"I haven't lied or kept a secret from you since the day I told you about my shifting," he told her honestly. "And I won't, but I'll ask for the same."
She nodded. "And you'll have it."
"So . . . does this mean I get to kiss you now? Take you somewhere private and tell you how your hair feels like silk?" He backed her towards the door.
"Not right now," she said, smiling, her face flushed again as she put a hand to his chest. "That favour I wanted to ask, remember? There's a couple of groups of bandits out on the Wounded Coast who have been terrorizing Kirkwall citizens over the last few days. If we can get rid of them, it might help me get an audience with the Viscount about the Amell estate. I was hoping that you, Fenris, Varric and possibly Merrill might come with me to get rid of them."
"Ah." He eased back, simultaneously disappointed and pleased. He did love to get rid of bandits, and it had been a while since he'd gotten to do any kind of fighting that didn't involve darkspawn. It would make a good enough diversion until she was willing to let him get her alone. "Of course. I told you before you don't even have to ask if you want me to help with a job." He frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I . . . just realized I had a bit of a condition of my own. Or, I guess, just something I wanted you to understand before we do this. I don't do anything permanent. That is . . ." he hesitated, trying to think of how to explain himself. "I don't ever intend to take a life-mate, or whatever you call it here. So once we've . . . tired of each other's company, I suppose, then we'll need to end it with no hurt feelings, because as I've said, I think you and Kirkwall in general are part of my destiny here. So we'll need to be around one another, and able to work together . . . after."
"Of course," she nodded. "I expected as much. We'll have a fun little fling, or whatever you call it in your world, and when it's done, we'll end it. No hurt feelings."
Mardin blinked, a little surprised – and perhaps a little insulted, too – that she'd agreed so quickly. But then, that was what he wanted, wasn't it? "Then, good. We understand each other."
"We do," she agreed. "Now let's see if Fenris wants to help." She turned around before he could say anything further, and knocked on the door.
Fenris opened it almost immediately, and if he was surprised to see Brianna and Mardin there together, or that Mardin hadn't simply walked in as he'd taken to doing lately, he didn't show it. "Hawke. Do you need something?"
"I was hoping you'd come help Mardin and I with some bandits on the Wounded Coast," Brianna answered. "And we'll be getting Varric and Merrill to help if they're willing, too."
Fenris frowned briefly, probably at the mention of Merrill, Mardin suspected. He wasn't terribly fond of their elven mage, but he nodded all the same. "Of course. Lead the way."
The three of them made their way to the Hanged Man, where Varric promptly agreed to help as well, and they continued on to the alienage. As they made their way through the streets of Lowtown, Varric grinned over at Mardin. "So, Red, I hear Ser Karras met with a tragic accident on Sundermount two days ago. Mauled by a bear, of all things."
Brianna, who was in the lead, whipped around to look at them, raising her eyebrows at Mardin. He shrugged, giving her an innocent smile. "He probably shouldn't have gone hunting alone. It can be dangerous."
"I imagine it is particularly so when the bears are hunting you," Fenris put in dryly.
Mardin grinned at him, appreciating the sarcasm. "Exactly."
Brianna sighed, shaking her head. "I thought I told you it was a bad idea?"
He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "You did, but Varric's spies found out some disturbing things about him and his plans while we were gone. It was too much to let slide." Especially when Brianna was a mage, and he'd promised Carver he'd keep her and Merrill safe from the Templars. Hearing some of the things Karras had done to the female mages in the Circle had been too much; there was no way Mardin could have let him live after that. He met her eyes, hoping she would understand what he couldn't put voice to, and she nodded after a moment. "Besides, he was alone, and no one suspects anything, do they?" He turned to look at Varric.
"Not a thing, Red. There's talk of keeping an eye out for dangerous bears and how everyone should hunt in pairs from now on, but nothing else. You're clear," Varric replied.
"Good. Any word on Bartrand?" he asked. Though he wasn't entirely sure what his destiny here might involve, he thought that idol might be a part of it, particularly if it could influence people to sacrifice others as Anders had thought. To that end, he wanted to find Bartrand and the idol as soon as possible.
Varric's face fell, and he scowled. "Not a thing there either. Seems like my brother never bothered to come back to Kirkwall, and no one seems to know where he did run off to."
"You'll find him, Varric," Brianna said reassuringly. "If anyone can find him, it's you and your army of spies."
"Thanks, Hawke." Varric smiled. "I hope you're right. I still owe my brother a slow death, after all."
By this point, they'd reached the door to Merrill's sad little home in the alienage, and Brianna knocked on the door. It was opened quickly by Merrill, who looked pale and distraught, Mardin noted. Telling her what had happened in the Deep Roads had been one of the most difficult things he'd done lately, though in the end, she'd pulled herself together, stubbornly determined that Carver would be fine. "Hawke! Is there any news about Carver?"
"Actually, yes." Brianna turned to look back at Varric and Fenris. "I meant to tell the two of you this before, too. I received a letter from Carver yesterday; he's fine. He survived the Joining and will be heading to Ferelden soon to live with the other Wardens."
Merrill beamed, tears brimming up in her big green eyes. "Oh, Hawke, that's wonderful news! Thank the Creators!"
"He, um, sent a letter for you, too." Brianna reached into her robes, pulling out a folded piece of parchment and handing it over to Merrill. "I didn't read it."
"He did?" Merrill's smile grew wider, if anything, as she took the letter and opened it, beginning to read. Mardin watched in interest as her face began to turn pink. "Oh . . . oh my . . ." She put a hand up to her mouth, and Mardin grinned. Good boy, Carver. It seemed he'd finally taken some of the advice Mardin had tried to give him before they'd left.
"Uh, Daisy, maybe you should read that in private later," Varric suggested.
"Please do," Fenris muttered.
Merrill's head jerked up as if she'd forgotten they were there. "Oh! Oh, yes, maybe I should." She quickly tucked the letter into her own robes. "Did you all come for a visit?"
"No, not exactly," Brianna replied. "We were heading out to the Wounded Coast to fight some bandits, and I was wondering if you'd like to come help."
"Of course!" Merrill smiled. "It's a lovely day for a walk."
"Well, yes, I suppose it is," Brianna agreed, glancing up at the clear blue sky above them. "Shall we go, then?"
Merrill nodded. "I'll just grab my staff." She took a few steps back into her house, returning with her twisted wooden staff strapped to her back, closing the door behind her. "I'm very glad to hear Carver's all right," she added as they began to leave the Alienage.
Brianna smiled at her. "I am too."
As was he, Mardin thought as they all headed towards the Wounded Coast. Besides for his own sake, as he'd begun to regard Carver as a friend, he was glad for Brianna's sake, as well. Hearing the good news had clearly lightened the load on her shoulders; she'd smiled more today than in all the time they'd been down in the Deep Roads. In fact, that smile on her face that he so enjoyed seemed almost stuck there now as she listened to Merrill's merry chatter on their trek to the Wounded Coast. Mardin stayed behind the two of them, talking with Varric and Fenris over the finer points of their Wicked Grace game the night before, but he couldn't keep his gaze or his thoughts from straying continually to her as they went.
Soon, he thought to himself, he'd be able to get her alone, and finally bed her properly, now that she was back to herself. Perhaps even tonight. He was caught up in a pleasant daydream of what he might to do to her as they made their way along the coast, the wind carrying the scent of the ocean to them, when Merrill startled him out of his thoughts. "Oh! Who are they?"
Mardin looked up, past Merrill and Brianna to whatever had caught the elf's attention. At this point on the Wounded Coast, the path stretched straight ahead for quite a distance, free of rocks except for the ones rising along the hills to their right. For that reason, he could see a long way ahead to a large, open area down the coast. There was a group of about a half-dozen people – likely the bandits they were looking for - fighting against two lone figures, far enough away that he couldn't make any of them out very well, and the wind wasn't blowing in the right direction for him to scent them either. Yet there was something – wait. Could that be . . .?
The smaller of the two figures had just taken a running leap off the back of the larger figure, who appeared to be clad in plate armor, flipping over the heads of the group in front of them to land on the other side. He'd know that move anywhere. That was his move – his move and Ayla's, Mardin thought as he squinted at the slight figure in the distance, now charging the bandits. And that was – it had to be – Ayla. He'd been hurrying forward even as he was trying to figure out who it was, but he was still too far away to see her clearly. What he could see, though, was a long braid whipping around behind her as she stabbed one bandit in the back and spun to engage another, wielding a sword in either hand, and that was all he needed to see.
"Mardin, what is it?" Brianna asked, and he glanced at her, startled, not even realizing she'd been following him as he'd moved closer. But of course she would have; it wasn't in her not to help someone fighting bandits. The others were trailing just behind them as they continued to close the distance, though the bandits were falling rapidly between the two figures, making it clear their help likely wasn't needed.
"I think . . . that's my sister," Mardin answered, feeling a little dazed. Could it really be her, after all this time, and in so unlikely a place?
"Really?" Brianna looked ahead again, to where it appeared that the last bandit was being finished off. "If it is her, that's great news. It must be the day for it."
"It must be," he agreed faintly, and though they were only about halfway down the path towards the other group now, he was close enough to see the sunlight glint off flaming red hair, and he was suddenly positive it was her. "AYLA!" he shouted.
Sure enough, in spite of the distance between them, her head whipped in his direction when he shouted, and in the next minute, she was racing towards him, the man in the plate armor following at a slower pace.
Mardin stopped where he was, knowing that his sister was running at him full tilt and he'd need to be braced when she reached him. He sheathed his sword, dropped his shield on the ground, and opened his arms as she got closer. "Mardy!" she cried before leaping into his arms, and he caught her, holding her tight as relief washed over him at how alive and well she looked.
He leaned back a bit, studying her face even as she studied his, beaming. Yes, there were the sparkling green eyes, the freckles, the bright smile, the flaming red hair that matched his own hanging in a long braid down her back. She wore a skirted suit of what appeared to be drake-scale armor, similar to the leathers that Nathaniel had worn, but the slender, curved swords hanging off her hips were still the heirlooms of the Trichlor clan their father had given her when she was sixteen. Aside from the change in armor, she looked precisely the same as the little sister that had disappeared on him over three years ago, and he nearly shuddered with relief at finally having her there in front of him, at finally knowing with absolute certainty that she was fine. He barely even registered Brianna and the others walking past them to greet the man Ayla was with, obviously giving the two of them time alone, and chose to ignore the existence of the man entirely for the moment in favour of his sister.
"Ayles," he breathed, "you're okay." He pulled her into him again, holding her tightly as she did him, breathing in the familiar scent of flowers and the outdoors that always hovered around her, frowning when other scents hit him. She smelled strongly of an unfamiliar man, fairly reeked of it, in fact. Probably that jerk in the plate armor he was choosing to ignore. He wrinkled his nose, scowling as he spotted the locket hanging around her neck – and the fact that she was not, as Anders had said, wearing her armband. She had gone and bonded with that Commander; the locket shone brightly with the force of the bond, and smelled so strongly of it that he had to repress the urge to growl over it. Some bloody stranger that he didn't even know, and his baby sister had quite literally put her life in the man's hands? Unreasoning fury threatened to bubble through his joy and relief at seeing Ayla, and he tried to shove it down as best he could. There would be time for his anger later.
"Of course I'm fine," she said, leaning back, her green eyes shining with joy. "I can't believe you're here, though! I got your letter, which was one of the reasons we came here, and we were going to stop for a bit in Kirkwall next, but I'm not sure that I believed you were really here in Thedas until now. However did you manage it?"
He'd not put any details of how he'd gotten here into the letter, just in case someone had intercepted it and read it, merely that he was living in Kirkwall and had found out where she was from Anders, and the request for her to come visit him. "I insisted on being sent here too, after Cranin finally told me where you were. I pestered him for ages until he finally said the Goddess had determined I had a place here too. But then I had to wait until the right time for him to send me . . ." he trailed off, distracted, for he'd discovered a second unfamiliar scent on her as he held her, buried beneath that of her mate's scent. It took a moment for him to figure out what it was, this strange blend of scents, and where he'd smelled it before, but when he finally did, his eyes widened as shock lanced through him. "Ayles . . . are you . . . pregnant?!"
Her eyes went round with shock, and she clapped a hand over his mouth, glancing quickly over her shoulder at her mate behind them, still talking to Brianna and the others. Mardin looked over her shoulder too, curious, but they were far enough away that no one appeared to have heard anything. Her shoulders sagged in relief before she whipped back around to glare at him, dropping her hand. "Keep it down!" she hissed. "He doesn't know yet."
"He doesn't . . ." Mardin repeated, dumbfounded. He was having enough trouble dealing with the shock of his realization, and the fact that his sister hadn't denied it; he could barely process anything else at the moment. She was pregnant?! His little sister was going to be a mother? How could she be, when she was only a child herself? No, he amended, he knew better than that. He might still think of her as the baby sister who'd toddled around after him from the time she could walk, who he'd protected from the moment they'd started going on the road with their father, but she was a woman grown, and had been for some time.
Never had that been more obvious than now; she had a bonded life-mate, and she was pregnant, and she . . . wait. His mind finally caught up with the rest of what she'd said. "Ayles, you haven't told him?!" He kept his voice low so only she could hear, but his disbelief and disapproval were still obvious, he knew. He might not even know if he liked the guy yet, but if the man had fathered a child, he still deserved to know.
"I know," she sighed, hanging her head as he finally set her down, though he kept an arm around her shoulders, unwilling to let her go completely just yet. "I know I should have, but he's overprotective at the best of times. I didn't want to have a big fight with him about coming on this mission, especially when there was no one else at the Keep to send with him. And if he'd gone alone, that would've defeated the purpose of protecting me, anyway, if something happened to him."
Mardin scowled. As if he needed reminding that he couldn't even so much as punch the guy without potentially hurting his sister, and that if the jerk died, so might she. Or worse yet . . . no, he couldn't even think of that. "Yeah, about that, what in the name of the Fox possessed you to bond with him? You know how dangerous it is!"
"It's got a lot of benefits, too. Like giving one another our strength if we're injured, which might succeed in keeping us from death until a healer can get to us," she pointed out. "Besides, it has some other very interesting benefits, too." She smiled slyly.
"Ugh." He frowned at her. "I don't even want to know. The point is, if he dies, you probably will too." Or you won't, which might be worse. But no, he couldn't tell her about that. It was too late; the bond was irreversible, and he wouldn't worry her more than was necessary, especially not now. "How am I supposed to protect you like that? Especially when it sounds like you're in danger all the time now, fighting these darkspawn?"
"Mardy." She touched a gloved hand gently to his face, looking up at him with a smile. "You don't need to protect me anymore. I can look after myself. I have for a few years now without any problems, haven't I?"
And why did that sting so badly, the thought of the danger she must have been in when he wasn't there to look after her, even though she was so clearly fine now? "You didn't have a choice," he muttered rebelliously. "Neither did I."
"No," she agreed, "and I'm sorry. If I'd been given the choice, I would have said goodbye to you before I left, let you know where I was going. I hope you know that. But even still, before I left, I'd been on missions without you. And I would have gone on more, had I stayed home. You weren't always going to be around to protect me, no matter what, and that was true from the moment I joined the Order for myself. You don't need to look after me anymore. I can look after myself now, because you taught me how. And I can make my own choices now. I chose to bond with Alistair, and take the risks that come with it. And I'd do it again."
They made their own choices, and no matter how you feel about it, it wasn't your right to tell them otherwise. His brain mocked him with the reminder of what he'd said to Brianna a week ago, thinking himself so wise at the time. Easier to give advice than to follow it, he thought ruefully. Ayla had made her own choice, and if she hadn't had all the facts, that was his own fault, wasn't it? Besides, it was much too late to do anything about it now; he'd just have to deal with the consequences, and hope fate didn't repeat itself. "So that's his name, is it? Alistair?" He was sure he'd probably heard the name from Anders or someone else before, but somehow it had more impact when Ayla had said it, especially when her eyes had gone soft as she had.
"Yes." She gave him a wry look. "And be nice, will you?"
He gave her an innocent look, widening his eyes. "When have I ever not been nice?"
"Oh, I don't know." She poked him in the chest. "How about the time Curran took me into the mountains when I was twelve? You scared him so badly after we got back that he never spoke to me again."
Mardin snorted. "And he deserved it, the little moron. The mountains were filled with bandits and dangerous beasts. He could have gotten you killed. And obviously he was weak if I scared him off permanently. Don't tell me you picked yourself a life-mate that weak?"
"Of course not," she sniffed, tossing her head and making him smile. "As if I would ever bond myself to a coward. Still, I want you to be nice to him. As you said, he is my life-mate and you know what that means."
He sighed. "Yes, he's my brother now," Mardin agreed reluctantly. Still, no one had ever said a big brother couldn't be strict, he thought slyly. Not that he'd ever succeeded in being strict with Ayla, but he could make an exception for her mate, he felt sure. "Which, by the way, how did you end up with a life-mate?" he asked, curious. "I never thought you'd take one."
"Neither did I," she said with a shrug, "until I met him."
"What made you change your mind?" he pressed, still curious. "How did you know?"
She raised her eyebrows at him. "How did I know what?"
"That you loved him. That he was your other half. How did you know for sure?" He wasn't even sure what was driving him, but he had to know why his sister's outlook on mates had changed so fundamentally since he'd last seen her.
Her eyes were suddenly sparkling with mischief as she smiled slyly at him. "Now, Mardy, why would you ask such a thing? Could it be you've met someone special? Is it the elf or – no, it would be the other one, wouldn't it? The woman in the black and red robes?"
"Of course not," he snapped, irritated that his gaze had involuntarily darted to Brianna, and that Ayla had of course noticed. "I'm just curious why you changed your mind."
Ayla's smile stretched wider. "Of course, I'm sure that's all it is." When he cursed foully at her in ancient Fallorian, his preferred method of cursing, she laughed. "Okay, okay, I'll stop teasing. But if you're really curious, I'll tell you."
He nodded; he was, he just wasn't entirely sure why. She looked back at her mate again, and Mardin, watching closely, saw the man look up and meet her eyes, smiling at her with clear and evident love – the same way Ayla was looking back at him. The same way Father and Mother had always looked at each other, and Mardin tried very hard not to think about that – and how it terrified him - as Ayla turned back.
"It was little things, at first," she began. "I wanted him, of course, but it was different than with other men. Stronger, more intense. And then it was other things. Like, I wanted to comfort him when he was upset, and it made me angry when he put himself in danger, that sort of thing. It wasn't until he almost died during a fight with a high dragon – and I thought he actually was dead - that I knew for sure, though. I knew I couldn't survive it if I lost him, that no other man had made me feel the way he did, and never would again. And the only reason it took me that long to realize it was because I was scared to love him, and feel the pain of losing him. I had thought that losing Father was bad enough, and I couldn't take losing anyone I loved again, so I tried to convince myself I didn't love him, until it was almost too late. Fortunately, it wasn't."
Stronger, more intense wanting . . .? No. He shut down that line of thinking very quickly. It didn't mean a damn thing. It didn't, and he was still in control, he reminded himself. More importantly, he suddenly realized why his sister had bonded with this Alistair, in spite of knowing the danger. It was because of the fact that she could die if he did; she was banking on it, in fact. She didn't want to feel the pain of losing him, and was hoping she'd never have to. Damn it, Ayles. He shook his head. Not that he could blame her; he fully understood the impulse. But she didn't look worried, he realized. In fact, he'd been wrong to think that she didn't look any different. "Does he make you happy, Ayles?" he asked softly, though he already knew the answer.
The answer was shining from her eyes when she nodded, her whole face glowing with it as she smiled at him. "Happier than I ever thought I could be, especially now that you're here and I have everything I could want – and more than I ever expected – here in Thedas."
He smiled in spite of himself and his conflicting emotions about the whole thing as he pulled her into another hug. "Good." He kissed her forehead. "Glad to hear it, little sister." He frowned as a fresh wave of the baby's scent wafted by him. "You do know that you have to tell him, and soon, right? By the smell of it, you're already far enough long that I would have put you on lighter duties already at the Order."
She sighed, leaning her forehead against his chest, her voice muffled. "I know. And I know in another month or so, when it starts to slow me down, I should be pulled off missions altogether. It's just . . . he'll still have to go on missions without me, and I'm not sure I know how to deal with that. I'll still be able to feel him, if he gets worried or hurt, but I won't be there to do anything about it, just waiting at home where it's safe." She practically spat the word out, making him smile even as he hurt for her. He couldn't even imagine being able to feel the danger she was in without being there to help, and she wasn't even his life-mate, just his sister. "I just . . . I know I shouldn't have gone on this mission either, probably. But I wanted one more mission just to get used to the idea, and then I was going to tell him. He's going to be mad, though."
"Probably," Mardin agreed softly. He knew that if a woman had ever been pregnant with his child and hadn't told him right away, he would've been mad too, whatever her reasons were, and he could certainly sympathize with his sister's reasons. "But he'll get over it. And if he doesn't, I'll yell at him for you. Obviously I can't punch him, though, which, thanks for that, by the way."
She looked up at him, grinning. "You're welcome. But you know it's just strong sensations that go through the bond, right?"
"Hmm." He tilted his head, considering it. Just how much would he have to hold back to make sure the punch didn't affect this Alistair fellow enough to filter through the bond to Ayla?
She shoved him, laughing. "Don't you dare! You promised you'd be nice!"
"Well, I won't punch him, then. Not yet, anyway." He didn't bother reminding her that he'd never actually promised to be nice. It wouldn't hurt to put a little fear in his new brother. It would make him feel better, at the very least.
"Good. I should introduce you, then, before we get going. We can't stay long right now," she said quickly, obviously anticipating his protest. "We're on a mission, like I said. When we're finished and on our way back, though, we should be able to stop in Kirkwall for a few days to visit before we go back to Ferelden."
"You'd better," he growled, crossing his arms and frowning down at her. "Just what is this mission, anyway?"
She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't tell you. The Wardens are really strict about keeping their business a secret. I'd tell you if I could, you know that."
"Fair enough," he conceded. Orders had to be followed, and duty came first. He knew that better than anyone. "So long as you do visit when you're done, and as often as you can afterwards. I don't think I can really leave here . . . I'm not sure what my destiny is here yet, but I know it involves them and Kirkwall." He nodded at Brianna and the others. "And until I know what it is for sure, I don't think I can afford to leave."
"No, you probably shouldn't," Ayla agreed. "I'll see what I can do; I'm sure we can get away for a little while, here and there." She turned then, waving to her mate. "Alistair, come here."
He trotted over, the heavy silver plate armor he wore clanking noisily with each step. Mardin frowned. Bloody plate armor, it was so useless. The chest plate, he noticed, was engraved with some sort of winged golden creature, and bits of blue and silver chainmail showed through the gaps in the armor. The man himself had strawberry blonde hair, cut close to his head on the side and a bit longer on top, and hazel eyes in a square-jawed face. He was as tall as Mardin himself was, and also fought with a sword and shield, Mardin noted. Interesting. He might have to put that to the test one day.
"Alistair, this is my brother, Mardin," Ayla said when he reached her side, gesturing to Mardin. "And Mardin, this is Alistair, my life-mate."
Alistair smiled, holding out his gauntleted hand. "Pleased to finally meet you. We'd been looking all over trying to find a way to contact you, but we couldn't find anything. Ayla was so happy when she got the letter that you'd made it here on your own."
"Yeah, well, I thought my sister was alone here, and I wasn't about to leave her that way if I could help it," Mardin retorted. When Ayla glared at him, raising her eyebrows, he sighed and shook Alistair's hand in return, squeezing with all his strength, even as he forced a smile for her sake. "Pleased to meet you, too." The damned jerk didn't even flinch, Mardin thought sourly as he let go. Stupid plate armor.
"I hate to do this when we just ran into your brother, love, but we should get going," Alistair said, looking over to Ayla. "We'll stop for a few days on the way back, though, I promise."
Ayla sighed. "I know. I just want to introduce myself to Mardy's friends quick before we leave, though. I'll leave you two to get a little better acquainted." She pinned Mardin with a fierce look that practically shouted, be nice, before she turned and walked over to Brianna and the others.
Mardin wasn't entirely sure he wanted Ayla to meet Brianna unsupervised; who knew what she would say? On the other hand, that gave him a chance to say just what he wanted to Alistair, so he decided it was worth the risk. Which, he realized, was probably exactly what she was thinking. Oh well. He'd just spotted Ayla's armband on Alistair's left arm, glowing with the bond, and simultaneously realized how much the man smelled of his sister; this needed to be said.
"Look," Alistair was saying as Mardin quickly glanced over to make sure Ayla's back was to him, "I know you don't know me, but –"
He was cut off as Mardin grabbed him by the collar of his plate armor, jerking him forward as he let the shift slip through enough to darken his eyes brown and double the size of his canine teeth, a favourite intimidation tactic that had sent many a man running in fear – and even scared that Qunari warrior. "Do you actually think your life is worth my sister's?" he snarled, letting the shift deepen his voice a bit too.
The hazel eyes met his calmly without a trace of fear. "No, I don't."
Mardin was shocked enough at the lack of fear – and the surprising answer – to let go of both Alistair's collar and the partial shift as Alistair continued, "The bond is dangerous, right? That's why you're mad, that if I die, she could, too." Mardin had no more than nodded before the other man went on, "That's why I almost didn't do it. The reason I did, in the end, was because she's so reckless she almost got herself killed. She shifted so much in the battle against the archdemon that she didn't have the strength left to fight her injuries, and there was nothing I could do about it. But with the bond, there is. I can give her my strength, and more than that, I can feel when she's pushing herself too hard. The risk outweighed her recklessness."
Damn. He could see the logic in Alistair's answer, and it annoyed him even as he agreed with it. She was reckless, he knew that; she always had been. If this life-mate of hers could temper that recklessness, and the bond helped with that, it just might be worth it. Maybe. He'd reserve judgment for now, he decided. "You might have a point," he said grudgingly.
Alistair smiled, and Mardin thought he detected relief in his eyes. "Occasionally, I do. And . . . I do love your sister. I'd do anything for her. Before the bond, I would have given my life for hers. But with her . . . this just seemed to be the best way that I could find to keep her safe."
Mardin sighed. Of course the idiot loved Ayla; it was obvious. That didn't mean he was worthy of protecting her, though. But – "You weren't scared. Most people are terrified of an angry shifter." He studied the other man thoughtfully. It was certainly a point in his favour.
Alistair snorted. "I'd hardly be married – or bonded – to your sister if an angry shifter terrified me, now would I? I hate to break it to you, but she's a lot scarier than you are."
Mardin couldn't help it – he laughed, having heard Lorcan say the exact same thing once. He was beginning to see why Ayla had picked this man. He was a skilled and strong warrior, from what he'd seen in the fight against the bandits; brave in the face of what terrified most men, accepting of her nature and with a ready sense of humour. Mardin could see why he made Ayla happy, and he grudgingly supposed that was the important thing. Kind of. He still didn't have to like the guy himself. "So she is. All right, brother. You pass muster – for now." He punched him lightly on the front of his armor-plated shoulder, testing the limits, and was pleased when Alistair stumbled back a few steps, but didn't flinch. Good. Maybe the plate armor had uses, after all. "Don't think this means I think you're worthy of her, though."
Alistair shrugged, giving him a wry smile. "I told you, I know I'm not. But I try every day to be – and I'm not going to give her up. Not for anything, or anyone." He shot Mardin a challenging look, hazel eyes going steely and shoulders squaring.
Here, Mardin realized, was the Warden Commander. Another point in his favour. He nodded, pleased. A worthy opponent was the best kind. "Good. I would expect nothing less from my sister's mate."
Ayla reappeared at Alistair's side at that moment, slipping her arm through his and looking back and forth between the two of them, her eyes narrowing on Mardin. He smiled innocently. "So, how did it go?"
"Well enough," Alistair told her, smiling down at her.
"Really?" she said skeptically, darting a look at Mardin. "What did you say to him, Mardy?"
"What did you say to Brianna?" he retorted evenly.
She grinned. "Fair enough." She sighed, looking up at Alistair. "We really do have to go now, don't we?"
"Sorry, love," he said apologetically. "As soon as we can, we'll stop back in Kirkwall."
"How long?" Mardin asked as Ayla crossed over to him, hugging him once more. He returned the embrace tightly, looking at Alistair over her head.
"A week at most, I hope," Alistair replied, looking sympathetic.
Ayla pulled back to look up at him. "Goodbye, Mardy. I'll see you soon."
"Bye, Ayles," he said softly. "Take care of yourself, you hear?" She nodded, and he dropped his voice low, so low only her shifter hearing would pick it up. "And you'd better tell him." She nodded again, sighing. "I will," she whispered back.
He squeezed her tightly for one more moment as Alistair walked up to them, then reluctantly let her go. "You'd better take care of her," he told Alistair sternly as Ayla went to his side, turning back to roll her eyes at his words.
Alistair nodded. "Of course I will."
Mardin watched the two of them walk away in the direction he'd initially come with the others, until they were almost out of sight. He sighed, finally turning back and finding Brianna and the others there waiting for him.
Brianna smiled at him. "Come on, there's still another group of bandits to fight. And they'll get back all right. By the looks of that," she nodded back at the dead bodies, "they can handle themselves."
"They do seem quite capable," Fenris agreed.
"Yeah, I suppose so," Mardin sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. They had survived so far, right? "She said they'd stop by Kirkwall for a few days on the way back. I'll just have to wait until then."
Varric snorted. "They'd better stop by Kirkwall. I didn't even get half of my questions answered! How am I supposed to write like that?"
Brianna shook her head at the dwarf as they started walking along the coast again in search of the other bandits. "That's because you had a million questions, Varric. And when you start off a conversation with 'Are you really a bastard prince who gave up his throne for Red's sister', of course people are going to be reluctant to answer you!"
"It was a legitimate question!" Varric protested. "And I'm sure he's heard that one before!"
Mardin laughed as Merrill trotted up to his side while Brianna and Varric continued to bicker. "They seemed very nice. I like your sister."
He smiled. "Do you? I'm glad."
"She was a little bit scary when she talked to Hawke, but otherwise very nice," Merrill went on cheerfully. "And that Alistair seems to love her very much. He kept watching her when she was with you with puppy dog eyes. It was very sweet."
Puppy dog eyes, huh? A good a description as any, Mardin supposed, smiling wryly. "What did my sister say to Brianna?"
Merrill frowned. "I didn't actually hear it, she just looked a little scary. Hawke seemed fine, though."
She would be. "Thanks, Merrill. I just want to go check something with Brianna."
He slipped up to the front of the group, where Brianna had apparently given up on Varric, letting him poke at Fenris instead, and was walking alone. "So, what did my sister say to you?"
"Oh, nothing much. She just asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure you were being careful," Brianna replied easily.
Mardin studied her closely, but she wasn't giving anything away. He sincerely doubted that was all Ayla had said, but it didn't look like Brianna was going to tell him anything else. Oh well, it couldn't have been that bad, he reassured himself. Ayla was generally reasonable and easy-going.
"Why don't you like her husband?" Brianna asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Mardin shot her a startled glance. "Who said I don't like him?"
Brianna smiled at him, shaking her head. "Come on, it was pretty obvious. You looked like you wanted to rip his throat out."
Mardin shrugged, uncomfortable explaining his reasons to someone else – and with just how astute her assessment was. "It's not necessarily that I don't like him. It's just . . . I don't even know him, and she's put her heart and her life in his hands. And I don't know yet if he's worthy of either."
"Ah, I see," Brianna replied gently, studying him carefully. He felt suddenly transparent, remembering how easily she'd seen through him before as she went on, "You'll just have to trust your sister's judgment, that she wouldn't give her heart to someone who didn't deserve it."
"I suppose so," he muttered reluctantly. He did trust Ayla's judgment, but he still didn't like the thought of someone else protecting her, of someone else having so much power to hurt her. She'd never given her heart before, and giving that away left a person all too vulnerable. He'd already seen that enough for one lifetime.
"Well," Brianna tilted her head, "do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to distract you?"
He looked down at her, suddenly intrigued. "Well, that depends. How do you plan on distracting me?"
"Hmm." She put a finger to her lips, considering, running her eyes up and down his body, which did an admirable job of heating it all through. "I thought I'd start with a bandit fight. I know you like those."
"I do," he replied, amused. "And what else?"
"Once we get back to Kirkwall . . ." she trailed off, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Yes?" he pressed, impatient and deliciously on edge.
"Well, you did promise to tell me all sorts of nice things about how I look in private." She grinned at him, lowering her voice. "And I seem to recall last time we were alone, I didn't even get to see you out of your armor. I think that would be a fine distraction for both of us."
By the Goddess. His whole body tightened and leapt with eagerness. "Yeah, I think that will do nicely," he managed, struggling to keep his voice even. "In fact, we should hurry and find those bandits."
"I couldn't agree more." Her face flushed that lovely pink that he so adored as he looked her over hotly, remembering what he'd seen of her gorgeous body before when he'd so hastily pushed aside her robes. He'd take his time tonight, he decided, and allow for a thorough distraction. As they made their way further down the coast in search of the bandits, he lost himself in another pleasant daydream of what he would he do to Brianna once they were alone, the worry for his sister almost completely forgotten in the haze of incredibly entertaining and diverting thoughts of his pretty mage.