Chapter 18) The Last Night
Aiden POV
"Valendrian, do you like being the hahren?" I asked one day as I helped pick weeds in front of his house. "It seems like all you do is solve arguments."
"Well, I suppose so," he chuckled as he carved something from an old stick. "But it's my job to do so, and is a trade off for the limited power I have."
"Trade-off?"
"All power has it's price, child. But no one wants to admit it."
"Why?"
"Probably because most of those who want power don't want to pay the price. Always accept it, though. It's the only way you'll stay sane." A tiny piece of wood went flying. "Well, you're young. You won't have to worry about it for a while now. And since you've worked so hard, how about a story?"
"Okay!"
I dunked the cloth into a bowl of cold water. I probably should've been surprised it was still cold, considering how long it had been sitting out, but I wasn't. After all, it had been magically chilled by a mage friend of Layla's, a kind and gentle old woman who reminded me of Valendrian. She'd come into the tent provided to us by King Cailan as we settled Cleon into the cot and fixed it up before taking Layla away. A good thing, since Layla had been nearly in hysterics over how helpless she felt. Lord Nuada had left not long after, to check in with King Cailan, Teyrn Loghain, and Lady Elspeth. This left me alone with the increasingly ill Cleon. I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not. I hadn't even been able to save my dad.
"Abelas, lethalin," he mumbled from underneath all the blankets. He'd complained of cold, and there'd been an influx of blankets as soon as I let a soldier outside know. Almost all of them had been sent by Lady Elspeth. "Abelas…"
"I don't even know what you're saying, but I'm assuming it's an apology," I reply, taking the cloth out of the water and wringing it out to set on his forehead. "And don't. There's no need for it."
"Sorry." He tried to smile back, but it looked more like a grimace. Flames, he looked horrible, though. Paler than cotton, I could pick out the individual veins in his face, veins that seemed far more black than they should've been. Red splotches broke out on his neck and hands. His eyes were duller than stone and seemed to just sink into his head. Then there was the fact that he could, literally, only breath and talk. He couldn't move anything else. "How much… longer?"
"Master Duncan and Ser Alistair are setting up as we speak. It shouldn't be much longer." Ser Alistair had, in fact, implied they were only waiting on one or two more pieces when he came by to check earlier. "Just hold on a bit longer."
"About all I can do. Sorry."
"If you're really sorry, you can not hide how bad you're off," I scolded. "I about had a heart attack when you fell and only Ser Alistair and Lord Nuada had a clue what had happened."
"I… all right."
"There we go."
"…How's Layla?"
"Hysterical when she was led away." I saw no reason to not be blunt. "And devastated that she could do nothing for you." She was a healer, a healer mage, and she felt helpless. This Taint, whatever exactly it was, seemed to be a very strong force. And now we were having to combat it to prevent it from spreading. Maker, help us.
"…Sorry…"
"Stop apologizing."
"You do it a lot." I did? "Most of you city elves do."
"Sorry." …Ah.
He grinned. "Told you," he teased.
I almost retorted, but he suddenly winced and his breath turned to pants and gasps. "Cleon!" I launched to my feet, leaning over him to see if I could... well.. see what was wrong. Nothing, of course. Just more veins and blotches. "Cleon?"
"I'm… I'm fine…" he managed. His voice was far too thin. "Just a… a spasm or something. I'm… I'll be fine." At least he was finally accepting that he wasn't fine. "It's passing. I'm okay."
"All right…" I murmured, settling back in my chair. I felt the cloth on his head and found it still cool. "Does that even help?"
"It reminds me I can still feel something other than pain. Trust me. That's very helpful."
"…Are you glad you left your Clan now?" The question just slipped out. "Sorry, that's not any of mine-"
"A little." I snapped my jaw shut with an audible clack as he answered. "I still hate that I can't be with them. But… Creators, there's no way I could've bore them seeing me like this." He smiled slightly. "I can barely stand it with you, lethalin, and I've only known you for a few weeks."
"That's your pride talking," I teased. He managed a chuckle, and fell silent. That's when I felt it again. That feeling I'd had ever since Cleon collapsed. No, I'd had it earlier, when we walked into Ostagar in the first place. "Hey, Cleon?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you feel like you're about to die?" Yes, that was what this feeling was. That heavy weight of death's hand on my shoulder while the sickle moves for my neck.
"Aiden, I'm laid up in bed," he reminded me dryly. "I've had the feeling since I encountered the damn Eluvian." The what? "I've just been fighting it. Why?"
"Because I don't know why I'm feeling it now."
"Good instincts." I nearly yelped at Lord Nuada's voice and whirled to see him step inside the tent. "That's all," he continued easily with a soft smile. "How are you feeling, Cleon?"
"Bite me, noble," he immediately groaned.
"Well, if you really want me to…" He laughed at Cleon's glare. "Nice to see you're doing fine."
"Aside from the whole feelings of death that you say is good instincts."
"Well, it is. We are all about to die."
Silence fell at the nonchalant remark and Lord Nuada took the opportunity to find a spot to sit on the floor "My lord, you can have my chair!" I immediately yelped, moving to stand. It was… it was absolutely rude and improper for an elf to be seated higher than a noble!
"Nah, I like the floor," Lord Nuada dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Besides, I need to give my neck a break." It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. Lord Nuada was not the tallest person, only half a head taller than me, but he likely had to look down slightly to look most people in the eye. "So this suits me just fine. Please, stay in your seat."
As I settled myself back down, Cleon asked the question that hung in the air. "What do you mean we're going to die?" he demanded. He struggled to push himself up, but just… just couldn't. I could see the frustration even more than I could hear it in his voice. "I've been told this Joining is a cure."
"It's a potential cure," Lord Nuada corrected softly. "If you can really call it that. It's no salvation. Not really. It's probably better than dying from paralysis-induced suffocation. That is very painful." …Why did he sound like he was speaking from experience? "But it's not a 'saving'. The Joining might kill you straight out." What? "If it doesn't, you're a Warden, but… well, you'll still die. The average tends to be about thirty years, according to Uncle Duncan, but there are some wildly different numbers."
"Why?" I asked. I couldn't help it. "Why will it bring us a slow death, my lord?"
"…Well, I don't know the specifics of the Joining, but it involves inviting the Taint in through the darkspawn blood and some other strange ingredients," Lord Nuada answered. I merely stared. I'd thought gathering the blood had merely been something symbolic. A trophy for the kill. "Essentially, the Joining is an accelerated version of what Cleon's going through right now. There's just some way we can master it too."
"Just great," Cleon groaned. I was certain if he could, he'd have punched something. "Why don't you know how?"
"Well, see, I only know all this because Elspeth got mad and pried the information out of visiting Wardens." He flashed a grin. "Elspeth didn't ask about how it all worked, specifically."
"So, we will be unable to return to a normal life, milord?" I asked softly. It… made sense, of course. I had certainly not expected to return to the Alienage. But to here it so… well, bluntly was disorienting. "At all?"
"Well, you can try," Lord Nuada replied slowly. "I've heard of a few who have. However, you'll never escape the darkspawn, in the end. Becoming a Warden is a weighted honor, and certainly no prize. It's a duty that someone must shoulder. Few will understand what we sacrifice, and even fewer will want to. That's our burden." Despite sitting on the cold ground, Lord Nuada held himself as if he were delivering a speech in front of the Landsmeet. "We guard the living from the shadows that wish to taint and devour them. We'll die for it. That's all there is to it."
"And you agreed to do this, knowing all that," Cleon stated incredulously. "You must be mad, noble."
"I'm a Cousland. Insanity gallops through the family, but we've learned how to hide it and take control of the reins." Lord Nuada grinned and I found myself caught by the light in his eyes. The light that inspired hundreds, thousands even, to follow their path wherever it led. The bright and confident look that marked every Cousland success, and there were many. "It is the way I can best fulfill my duty, so it is the path I've chosen, despite the risks. It is nothing more, yet nothing less."
"And your sister?"
"Elspeth accepts it, just as I accept her path into diplomacy and politics."
"…I see."
"Did… did you come in here to warn us, my lord?" I asked softly. "Before the Joining itself?" If that were the case, had he warned Mistress Layla?
Lord Nuada fell silent as a thoughtful yet conflicted look crossed his face. "I've been debating," he answered after a moment. "You aren't supposed to know. I got very lucky. But it didn't seem right to not share."
"So?"
"I decided to come here, though, for decidedly different reasons. I hadn't figured out if I was going to warn or not."
"What reasons?"
"Give Alistair the opportunity to give those gorgeous flowers to Elspeth without an audience?" …Flowers?
"Wait, he picked them for Elspeth?" Cleon asked. So, he knew what was going on? "I thought he was just being a weird shem."
"Nah, he just noticed Elspeth was sad, so he picked flowers," Lord Nuada laughed. "He looked so flustered, though, that I had to minimize the embarrassment somehow! Besides, Elspeth would never forgive me for cracking a rib from laughing too hard."
"So you came here?"
"Well, yeah? Can't a guy be worried about a fellow?" He grinned. "Here, we've some time. I can tell you that and a few other hilarious stories."
"Such as?"
"Well, how about this story of how Uncle Loghain managed to get his head stuck in a fence?"
"Yes!" I wondered if the reason behind Cleon's enthusiasm was because he was still smarting of Teyrn Loghain's king comment from this morning. "Please!"
"Okay, but, seriously, let me tease about Alistair first. Trust me. It was hilarious."
Author's note: What's this? No Layla? Yeah, Layla has the most exposure, due to being the first protagonist introduced, so I opted to have her mentioned here in this short little chapter and just have the boys interact with one another. Why a break chapter? Well, mostly for the dialogue, and to create a sense of time between arriving at the Camp and the Joining itself? Sorry it's so short? We've had a lot of long ones recently.
Next Chapter – The Joining with Nuada
