A/N: Again... I feel like screaming FINALLY with this chapter. It wasn't actually as hard as Chapter Two when it came to writing (except I had to cut a few ideas because it was getting too long). My problems just came in the form of babysitting and my new obsession with Assassin's Creed (pathetic that I JUST got the first game, isn't it?). Anyhow, due to the latter and its sequel, I might be getting rather slow in the writing of this story, especailly as I'll be heading back to school this January. Oyi... Hopefully though... I'll still be able to write and all.
Which reminds me... after this chapter, I only have a few chapters with certain plans. I have an idea where this is going to go, what will happen, but I'm trying to figure out all the timing and such as well. i have ideas... I just gotta play a mix and match game with them. XP Just a heads up...
Song Suggestions: Song selection is no different... except I've been grabbing a few more songs here and there. Only thing I can think of right now that I listened to while writing was Clint Mansell's Lux Aeterna and it's variant, Requiem For a Tower. Such pretty songs, don't you think?
So that's it... read now... XP
Chapter Three
Friends
The lands of Ferelden, every sight and city, all of it… they seemed to be nothing more than fonts of pain nowadays.
Ostagar, where much of the king's army – and Cailan himself – had been lost…
The Kocari Wilds... how many scouting bands had been lost there as well by a darkspawn ambush?
No longer did a Theirin hold the throne in Denerim. Perhaps one's wife, but… she had exiled the last of the bloodline and declared that man's love as a liability despite all of her efforts to save Ferelden from the Blight.
And the Castle Highever… the site of murder of the late Teyrn Byrce Cousland and his wife Eleanor…
Fergus didn't know if many people felt as badly as he did these days or if they had as troubling thoughts – or as many – but… he had a hard time caring. Much of Ferelden still regarded Loghain highly, the former Hero of Ferelden. But their living hero… she seemed to have fallen from the minds of many. And nothing could be done to change that fact, not in these circumstances. Not while Maric's only surviving son refused to take up the crown and the one woman who could convince him to do otherwise only held one concern: the wellbeing of their child. In a way, Fergus was as frustrated with his sister as he was with much of Ferelden, yet… he held nothing against her.
After all, he had no desire to see Alistea's fate to follow that of her cousin's…
However part of him knew it was probably foolish to worry about the girl. She was nothing like Oren. He had been eager to fight as well, had an enthusiasm for war stories as well, but… he hated to admit that his lost son had never been as strong as Alistea… like Fergus had been nothing like his sister. In truth, she should be the teyrna. She had always been the stronger, more promising one, even though neither of their parents would admit to it, loving them both too greatly to life one over the other.
But Fergus had always known, even without hearing the words of others, he had seen it clearly.
It wasn't fair in the least that he was teyrn and she was a 'traitor' living in exile.
"My lord… we should head in now…"
The teyrn gave a sigh as he dismounted his horse and turned his head towards the voice, giving a slow nod to Ser Gerard, a knight in his service. "Then I suppose we should proceed," he said as those of his entourage to lead the horses off to the stables and he fell in step behind the knight as they made their way to the entrance of their destination.
"Milord… does something bother you?" the knight questioned in a low, uncertain voice before they took three steps. "You have been rather… pensive through the trip…"
"Is it possible to not be bothered, given the times?" the noble sighed, trudging up the steps of the castle and allowing his voice to grow low as they neared the doors. "You are aware of who paid a visit and that the queen has suspicions… how can I not be bothered? And now… to have to deal with the next person to call on me…"
"At least he won't wish to find means to call you a traitor," Gerard added with attempted optimism, but hardly sounded as convincing as he tried to be.
"No, but he'll still want the same information Anora did," Fergus groaned, shaking his head before muttering, "He has a right, I suppose and I know he'll mean no one any harm, but… this is just an uncomfortable position I'm in…"
"Of that, I have no doubts…"
And with that, their voices fell silent as they entered the main hall to see the lord of the castle pacing before the fireplace impatiently. The man certainly had reason to do so and who could blame him? Given that he knew nothing of the fate of the boy he once raised…
It was rather painful for Fergus to think that he was one to have a hand in this anxiety of Arl Eamon Guerrein.
"Milord, the teyrn of Highever has arrived at your behest," the knight called out, his words beckoning Eamon to halt and turn to face the newly arrived, just as his brother did.
"Ah, Fergus… it's good to see you, lad," the elder brother began, quickly striding over to greet his guest with a warm smile and enthusiastic handshake, both of which made the teyrn's insides twist 'round with guilt. "It truly is the Maker's blessing that you yet live and hold your family's estate despite all that's happened. I hope that gives your father's soul some ease…"
"Or at least less unease," he returned trying not to cringe before he gave a nod. "Well… I can say that it is good to see you alive and well yourself, considering several things. Everything is going well for your family as well, I trust? What of Conner's progress? Is he still doing well? And how is he?"
"The First Enchanter has been kind enough to keep Isolde and myself updated, but we haven't spoken with Conner himself for several months. Irving worries that constant contact might make it harder for the boy to forget his born status… make it harder for him to see fellow mages as equals."
A look of loss came over the man's face as he fell silent and allowed his gaze to fall. The pause made the atmosphere fill with discomfort, something evident by the troubled look on Teagan's face. Fergus himself pitied the elder Guerrein… and felt relief that neither he nor Aliea had shown any tendencies to magic. To be taken from family and made to live at the Circle Tower… he was just glad that had been a situation not part of their lives.
"But Connor has been doing very well, yes," the father added, a sad, but proud smile spreading across his lips, eyes still downcast. "Irving says that he has a very advanced control of his abilities, but Connor is best with the theories and knowledge of the Fade and all that is connected with it. And… he is rather eager for the next visit Isolde and I will be able to make, to share with us all he's learned…"
"I'm sure he'll also be eager to see little Gwyneth again," the teyrn nodded, allowing a smile to cross his own lips. "How is the girl?"
He had a certain fondness of Eamon's second child, particularly because the girl had been born a year after his own niece and he always wondered if seeing the girl was anything like seeing Alistea grow up. It wasn't. He always knew that and such had been confirmed a few weeks ago when he saw his sister's daughter for the first time in four years. Gwyneth was a bright, energetic girl herself, but… she did not have Alistea's fiery spirit nor such enthusiasm for the affairs and lore of battle. He didn't see Gwyneth growing up to be a warrior maiden like her late aunt had been.
Alistea would, seeming much like her own mother had at that age.
"Doing well… which is an accomplishment as Isolde worries too much if Gwyneth will join the Circle as her brother has." Again the smile dropped, but there was no loss or sadness in the man's eyes. Simply… consideration. "I don't know my own thoughts there. As much as I would hate to see another child leave… I know Connor wishes he could see his sister more, the poor boy. Though he is grateful that he's even allowed to keep in contact with us.
"And he's rather delighted to know he'll be granted leave to attend Teagan approaching marriage…"
"In Andreste's name… marriage?" Fergus repeated, not at all hiding the shock he felt… before he turned a smirk onto the other man. "So things with Kaitlyn have gone well? Congratulations! I had no idea…"
"It's rather fast, I know, but I'm certain this will work out," the bann finally spoke, displaying an eager smile that Fergus remembered wearing for months before his own marriage. It was good to know the event was something the man was looking forward to.
At least it was good for awhile… before Teagan's demeanor sobered and he spoke rather melancholy.
"You know… Kaitlyn knew your sister. Said that Aliea had been the one to make it possible for Kaitlyn to establish her foundry. She… she was hoping to know what became of the woman. And… am I to guess that the news is not good given that her hound accompanies you?"
To that, Fergus gave a sigh and grudgingly glancing over at Ser Gerard. He knew this was going to come up sooner or later. He wished he remembered that Kaitlyn had been one of those that prospered from his sister's actions. He remembered how the woman had approached him, to speak to him of a woman she regarded highly, not believing Anora's decree as the woman was a rather prominent figure at court now and privy to such things.
But it didn't matter that the mentioning of Kaitlyn had urged the conversation in this direction. It would have gotten here eventually. Still… Fergus would have preferred to draw this out further and maybe even gain the chance to not even speak of this, but… that had been a vain hope.
"All I can say is that the woman still lives. At least I believe she does," the teyrn sighed, shifting uneasily on his feet, wishing that this wasn't a topic that the Guerrins would constantly take up with him. Yes, he understood that Eamon worried for Alistair and the best bet to discover the man's welfare was if Aliea had found the man. And Fergus was the only noble with any chance to hear news from the woman. Not that he ever informed them anything, something helped out by Aliea's own vague messages. "A woman such as she does not go down easily after all and what can be more treacherous than slaying the Archdemon?
"But other than that… I know nothing."
"Are you certain? Anora believes otherwise," Eamon challenged, a stern look in his eyes. "She says that she's heard several interesting things from her informants… and yourself."
"She has, has she?" Fergus questioned, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "And when has she spoken with you, might I ask…"
"Not long ago, actually. I only just arrived back in Redcliffe a day ago," the arl said. "I sent my messenger to you while in Denerim. I wanted to speak with you as soon as possible about this…"
"Eamon… whatever you want out of me… don't ask for it. I imagine Anora told you much of what she divested of me and it pains me to think on how foolish my reactions had only led the woman to continue to believe her paranoia. My only solace is that there is nothing the woman can do to discover my sister's location because that I do not know.
"So don't ask me a word. Believe as you want. Just don't make me go back on my word anymore…"
"Your word?" Teagan repeated, a hint of outrage in his voice. "You mean that you promised your sister to not speak a word to my brother of whatever occurrences make up her life in these last six years? If there is anyone that knows of Alistair's location…"
"Yes, I know. It would be she," Fergus groaned, turning back to face the eldest amongst them. "My sister wishes no one to know of her new life, in any part… for everyone's safety. So that none of us can unwillingly betray them to Anora and so that there is no way the woman can discover what she wants from us…"
"But what does it matter now? Anora knows or at least believes she does… except the location," Eamon pointed out, desperation leaking into his voice. "Fergus… please. It's been six years. I need to know how Maric's only living child fares. And you can't possibly know how it feels as at least you've had messages from your sister. I know you have.
"After what you two went through… I doubt she could easily sever ties with you…
"So please… if she has told you anything of Alistair, please let me know, especially if Anora knows…"
Another groan left the young teyrn's mouth as he shook his head in defeat. The arl had a point. Why bother hiding this from the man while Anora now knew? At least there was no way he could tell of their location and it would be pointless to search out the small family. He could take comfort in that…
"Fine, but… could we go somewhere more private. I hate to distrust your knights…"
"This is your family's life on the line. I understand," Eamon said, waving a hand as he led the way to his study… while his words made Fergus's brow cease with pondering. Family's life? So Eamon did believe that Aliea was a mother? Otherwise… wouldn't the man only refer to his sister? After all, the man had no knowledge of Fergus's own thoughts in regards to the relationship between Aliea and Alistair. Of course… then again… maybe Eamon only referred to the couple, knowing that the teyrn was a Theirin loyalist and did wish for Alistair's survival.
It did not matter though. He would wait until Eamon posed the questions and he would answer. But he would not assume the man knew anything before those questions…
Which did not start with an inquiry of Alistea…
But as expected… her father.
"So… Alistair… does he live then?" Eamon asked once the three of them stood in his study, while Gerard stood guard outside the door to keep prying ears from the door. "Did Aliea find him?"
"She did. And yes, he still lives," Fergus admitted in defeat, hoping he wasn't risking the lives of his sister and niece and instead was helping them in part. If Anora was now convinced that Alistair and Aliea were, not only reunited, but caring for their child, wasn't it helping them, aiding them to let their allies know the same?
"Thank the Maker. That is relieving," Teagon spoke for his brother, both of their shoulders falling just a bit, as if relaxing from a heavy burden. "But I wish there was some way to convince the man to return and claim his throne. The Landsmeet would certainly call for his reign in light of Anora's paranoia…"
"But what's to guarantee he'd even live long enough for such choice to be made?" the elder brother disagreed sullenly, shaking his head and facing his brother. "Anora would be ever so watchful now. She'll anticipate his return because of her paranoia and I imagine she'd be like her father, sending personnel to rid the threat…
"But I'm not interested in this topic. Alistair won't come back, I'm sure of that. He never wanted the throne, especially as he's only always heard for much of his life that he would not be king." He turned back to Fergus and continued his questions. "I'm glad to know he lives and… am I wrong to believe that he is once again in Aliea's company? Or… is there a chance that they are no longer…"
"No… the two have reunited. My sister said that they eloped the same week she found him."
"And they're still together? Good. I'm glad for it," Eamon nodded as he mused. "It broke my heart when I saw them speak during the Landsmeet and to see how forlorn your sister had been after Alistair left…
"I know Loghain committed a grievous crime and I understand how Alistair could not fight alongside the man, but… Riordan was right. They did need all the help they could get. Aliea did not make the wrong choice. Not seeing that she was the only one of those three to survive…
"But now… I have to know… Anora mentioned that… that they had been seen in Highever…"
"They came to see me before they fell out of communication with me," Fergus interrupted, easily seeing where the question was going.
"So then… did you… do you know if what Anora says is true?" the arl spoke, his words uncertain and rather desperate, as if he needed to know and feared that the need would be denied. Well… why wouldn't he think as such? He had been denied much information in the past years. "That… that they had a child in their company?"
"Yes… it's true," the brunette man admitted shortly, truly feeling defeat with those three words… especially as the arl did not stop…
"Is it… is the child your niece?"
"Yes."
"And she's Alistair's daughter as well?"
"Yes."
He watched as disbelief, shock, and a small amount of joy dawned on the faces of the brothers before him, Teagan regarding his brother as Eamon paced, murmuring to himself in his disbelief.
"I… I can't believe it. Alistair? A father? And the mother… to think… Bryce's girl. It just seems… unreal." He came to a halt, jerking around to face Fergus, his eyes shining with an eagerness for knowledge, questions pouring from his lips. "What's the girl's name? How old is she? You've seen her… what's she like?"
"In all honesty… she's exactly the kind of child you'd expect to come from those two," Fergus said, unable to deny the man of his request. Alistair's father had not been part of his life, for his own sake and instead Eamon had been there in those early years. The thought certainly broke the teyrn's ability to withhold such information anymore.
"She's as obstinate, fierce, and smart as a mabari… like her mother. And she's a beautiful girl with hair the same shade of gold as Aliea, but… you can see much more of Alistair in her face. She has his eyes and looks very much like him, especially in her facial expressions. And she's a mischievous little one…"
"She couldn't be Alistair's child if she wasn't," Eamon chuckled with a shake of the head. "Now I wonder what it's like for him to deal with a child that probably causes as much damage as he did. Would be quite interesting…
"But you haven't mentioned her name yet? Or how old she is…"
"Alistea, named for both her parents since… she was born while Alistair's location was still unknown to her mother. She was born barely more than a half a year after the Archdemon's fall. So she turned five the day that they visited me… but she seems so much older…"
It seemed to be a relief to inform the man all this of Alistea, watching Eamon take it in, a small smile on his lips, engulfed by awe. And Fergus was glad that the man found such delight in his words, though it only deadened the sense of threat and anxiety that was growing in his numb fingers. He knew this wasn't what Aliea or Alistair wanted. He hated acting against their wishes. Though…
He probably could have avoided this mess if he never let himself sleep with that woman…
He knew that if Aliea ever caught wind of how he had let it slip to Anora of his sister's family and now the same to Eamon and his brother… she'd probably only have more reason to kill him for taking the woman to his bed. She wouldn't listen if he tried to tell Aliea that he hoped to fool the queen, make her think that he cared enough to not act against her and he had more concern for his own hide than his sister's.
No… she's just holler how he was just being a man, unable to restrain himself, to think of the consequences.
She would be right in that…
"I wish I could have met the child, but… I suppose the lad has lost his trust in me after all these years," the arl sighed, his words breaking through Fergus's thoughts as he slumped into the chair behind his desk.
"I wouldn't take it too harshly, Eamon," the teyrn tried to console the man. "The two of them have a child to raise after all. And protect. They know Anora will consider Alistea a threat. They're just not willing to risk the girl's life and can you blame them? They hardly kept in contact with me as well and certainly never told me of their location. Even now I have no idea where they seek refuge.
"They just won't tell anyone that is… too 'close' to Anora's grasp…"
"Yes, I suppose you're right," the eldest man nodded. "I imagine letting her discover the existence was amongst the last of the things you would willingly reveal to the woman, yet… unfortunately such happened. That woman would probably be able to extract whatever she needs given the proper circumstance…"
"Taking on a source of information as a consort sounds like one," Teagan responded with obvious disgust, setting a glare on Fergus. "Was that truly necessary? It's not going to take long for all of Ferelden to learn just how 'close' you are to the queen. And how does that help Alistair, your sister, and their daughter?"
"If the woman could believe that Fergus was not about to risk his neck for his sister, it could help," Eamon spoke up for the youngest in the room, facing his brother as he spoke until he turned to Fergus and addressed him. "However… I suppose that with your last encounter with the woman… it doesn't seem she'll believe such easily now…"
"She never would. Not easily," the teyrn groan, his body giving a twitch as he cringed. "I can only think of one thing that would ever delude her into such thinking, though it's far from something I want to admit or acknowledge…"
"But with things as they are… it may be the best choice. Not only for the survival of the last of the Theirin and Cousland lines but for Ferelden's sake as well," Eamon said with some strain, looking up at Fergus intently. "I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear…"
"But it's the truth. And I don't see any way out of this nor reason to avoid it except out of personal preference."
"It is sad though to see what has become of your family. Bryce, Eleanor, and your wife and son murdered by a deceiving friend. Aliea declared traitor and forced to live in exile with her daughter. And perhaps what is to be expected of you… I can't envy such fate," Eamon murmured mournfully. "I pray the Maker watches over your family and rewards you for all the hardships you and your sister have and will face…"
"As long as Aliea doesn't lose her own family… it doesn't matter what happens to me," Fergus sighed, his gaze lowered as he shook his head. "Though… I doubt she'll feel the same…"
Alistair had once heard that the Orlesian culture was a rather ridiculous one, but he never knew quite what to think. He always thought of what ridiculous might mean in Fereldan terms – which didn't take much given the nation's sense of practicality. When he heard the same from Leliana however, he began to wonder. The bard seemed peculiar to him; he was worried to think what might seem to be too extreme for her. And so he had asked Aliea when the decision had been made to attempt at a life in Orlais. She admitted that Val Royeaux was a very extravagant place, beautiful for no other reason than to be so, that there was no true point for it to be so except to please the eye and draw attention and that was one thing that resonated everywhere, in the architecture, culture, people…to outdo those around them, to seem better than the rest.
That he saw clearly in the days they spent in Val Royeaux, particularly amongst the nobles. Each one seemed more done up than the last, many of them leaving the realm of extravagance and instead being dressed up – or acting – preposterously. It was like watching children compete in an overly foolish game, one that children would laugh at.
Just as Alistea was giggling behind her hands as the two of the strolled about the Market District.
"Papa, did you see that one? Her hair was so high and poofy! How can she walk around like that? Wouldn't she fall over?" she asked, twisting around to look at her father's face as she sat atop his shoulders. "And then that other woman had such a small waist. I thought Mama said that it's not good to be so skinny. And so many people have such poofy and colorful outfits. They look so funny, Papa. Why are they so silly like that?"
"They're nobles, Sweetheart. Your mama's always told you how silly they can be," he reminded with a smile, amused by his daughter's endless amount of questions since their arrival to the Orlesian city. "Like how they want to be better than other and do different things to do that…"
"So they want to look sillier than everyone else? That's just silly."
"Especially given that spend a load of money to look the way they do. Somehow… they think they're special that way, I suppose." He gave a scoff as he edged his way to a stall, muttering under his breath to keep Alistea from hearing him, "Special in the head maybe."
The girl didn't seem to as she said, "Special? You mean they want to look the prettiest? But Mama's prettier than them and she doesn't even have to dress up as fancy!" she exclaimed, again craning around to look at Alistair. "But she is really pretty today. I like her dress. Maybe Mama should talk to them and tell them they look silly…"
He gave a chuckle to the suggestion though his eyes did not meet with his, his attention instead focused on the merchant's collection of runic statuettes. "Ali… sometimes people are too silly to even listen to your mama…"
"Like Papa?"
"Hey!"
A few more giggles escaped the girl as she jabbed a hand forward, pointing at the figurines before them. "Well you are! Why would you want to look at funny looking dolls if you weren't silly, huh Papa?"
"They're not dolls, Ali. They're statuettes…"
But the child remained unconvinced, her voice picking up the same sardonic tone the former Warden's would. "Sounds like a fancy way to say 'dolls.' Come on, Papa, just admit it. You like to play with dolls. You play with me…"
"And what kind of papa would I be if I wouldn't play with you when asked?"
"But you have fun…"
"Because you're pretty silly yourself when you're playing with your dolls…"
"Papa!"
Alistair just gave a laugh, before picking up one of the figures, one that seemed to be fashioned much like a pride demon. "Anyhow… this is a representation of a Fade demon. You think that a mama or papa would buy this for their child to play with?"
"Ooh! But I could use him!" Alistea cried out, beginning to bounce up and down on her father's shoulders. "I need something for Ser Markus and Ser Shayle to fight! Please oh please, Papa! Can I have one?"
"You want something like this?" he questioned with disbelief, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face her. "You've got some morbid tastes…"
"But you and Mama fight darkspawn. They're just as ugly…"
"And your mama would kill me if I bought you something as hideous looking as those things to play with."
"Mama wouldn't kill you. She enjoys kissing you too much to do that…"
"All right… she'd torture me," he corrected, putting the figure back down and attempting to navigate from the merchant stall… a task halted as Alistea suddenly grabbed him by the jaw and pulled back. He stumbled, but regained his balance before falling back. But not without bumping into several disgruntled persons. The irritated remarks, the slight pain in his jaw, and the worry of falling – and hurting his daughter – were all more than enough to aggravate Alistair. With that, he quickly shifted his hold from the girl's legs to her arms and quickly pulled her down – ignoring her still strong grasp on his chin – as he stormed out of the crowded area of the market, carrying Alistea over to a nearby sitting area. He sat down on one of the benches. But Alistea did not join him.
Instead he stood her on the ground before him, setting a stern glare on her as he kept a firm hold on her arms.
"Alistea… don't do that again," he directed in a low, imposing voice… and feeling his blood heat as the girl's own gaze grew hard and challenging. "Don't give me that look. You're not getting anything by throwing a fit with me, young lady. Especially not when you could have hurt the both of us. If I say you're not getting something…"
"You didn't!" she shouted before her voice lowered and she muttered, "You didn't actually say 'no'…"
"Alistea… you're a smart girl. You knew what I was saying…"
"But why?! Why can't I have a new toy?! Mama gave me three!"
"For your birthday. And shouldn't three new dolls be enough for you?" he questioned, finding himself rather baffled to have an argument like this with his daughter… as well as to hear her sound rather greedy. She never asked for anything unless she was asked first. And she never acted this defiant.
"But I told you! I need someone for my dolls to fight! Mama didn't have any dolls of bad people and neither do I! I just want one doll for them to fight!" the girl continued to argue. "And why can't I have more? You and Mama always told me I couldn't have too many toys because we were traveling. But we're not traveling anymore! We have a home now. But that's not as fun as it used to be. I miss traveling.
"And it's not fair… not when Mama didn't tell me that we had to leave Markus behind. I miss Markus…"
"And so does your mama," he told her, his voice softer, realizing that it wasn't exactly greed that Alistea was reacting with. He had wondered when the girl was going to act out due to the change before forgetting the notion, thinking that all Alistea's life had been made up of was change and she found it easy to adept. But… it did make sense for her to have a fit to coming later rather than sooner. They never spent more than a week in any given establishment and it had now been over a week since their arrival to Orlais. Now was when things would seem different from the life Alistea was used to, now was when she'd realize life really was going to be different from here on out.
Before this, even Markus's absence must have seemed 'temporary'… but not anymore.
And how could he blame her for not understanding why she couldn't have a new toy? She was right. The only reason Aliea and himself had ever given her of why she couldn't have many toys was because of all the traveling they had to do. That reason wasn't applicable to their current – and hopefully permanent – situation.
"Your mama didn't think you'd be willing to see your uncle if she told you that leaving Markus with him was part of the reason for returning to her old home," he explained, no longer making her stand and lifting her up to sit on his lap. "And we couldn't bring him with us. You know that…"
"I still miss him," she mumbled, leaning against his chest, her small hand gripping his shirt. "It's no fun without him. There's no other mabaris here…"
"Well, I'm glad to know that after all these hours that I've played dolls with you, I'm no fun…"
"Papa, you're being silly again," she gave a giggle… but it died immediately as their eyes met and a look of fear and guilt came over her face. Her voice failed her, becoming no more than a whisper as her gaze fell and her hands began to wring themselves. "Ah… Papa, I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hurt you. I know you and Mama tell me to stop hurting others and… I'm sorry. But… why can't I have one?"
"Sweetheart… what did you tell us on your birthday, when your mama said she wished things were different?"
"That… ah… you mean when she was sad about it?"
"Yes."
"I said I was happy with being with you and Mama… because we love each other…"
"And you know… some kids forget that. They always want more and more toys and never think about what they do have. Do you want to end up like that? Or do you think that having dolls is better than having your mama and papa?"
"I'm not that silly," Alistea muttered, cautiously glancing back up before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging tightly. "Papa… I don't want to be like that. I love you and Mama. I didn't try to say I didn't by wanting toys. I…"
"No, Honey, I know you didn't. I just don't want you to get greedy," he murmured, hugging his girl close to him. "And fighting for a toy… that's not a good thing, Darling."
"I know… I'm sorry, but… does that mean I can't get anymore toys now?"
"Well, not today, okay? No more fits and… we'll see. And we'll need to ask your mama, especially if you really want something that she'll probably throw her own fit over." Moving the girl from his chest, she turned to gaze up at him as he gave her a rather jaded stare. "I can't believe you're crazy enough to want something like that anyhow…"
"I'll have to fight something like that someday too, won't I? Because I want to be as good as you and Mama at fighting," she returned rather innocently as she tilted her head.
"Don't mention that outcome to your mama. She'll definitely start yelling at me for putting ideas in your head," Alistair groaned before directing the child back onto his shoulders, which she quickly followed, clambering up to her former position and settling obediently before her father stood and began to leave the Market District. "Come on. Let's go on to see how things went for your mama in getting a job. Hopefully they went well…"
"I don't see how Mama could fail," Alistea said. "Hey, Papa… can I ask you something?"
"Hmm?"
"Um, could we… could we get Mama something? She was really worried today so… could we get her a gift to… to con… con-gra…"
"Congratulate?" Alistair helped out the girl, rather amused to hear her fail at a word. She had a pretty good vocabulary for her age after all.
"Yea… so she knows we're proud of her when she gets the job. Or… well, if she doesn't get it… to cheer her up."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate the thought. So what do you think we should get her?"
"Um… I dunno. Maybe something pretty… oh, what about flowers? Mama likes roses, doesn't she? She keeps one between the pages of her book about Maric's fight against Orlais," she pondered aloud before again trying to look at her father. "Papa, why are we in Orlais? We're Fereldans. Aren't we enemies?"
"We're enemies in Ferelden as well, Sweetheart," Alistair sighed, the change in topic removing the entertainment he found in the thought of Alistea suggesting they get Aliea roses. He was glad to be reminded of that first rose and wondered what his wife would think of the gift… and if that meant he might have a rather enjoyable evening. An unexpected bonus, of course. "Your mama's been here before though. Trips with your grandfather. She knows someone here. And you know that your auntie Leli used to live here. She knows the place well and thinks that this is a good place for us to just be part of the crowd. And even though Ferelden and Orlais aren't enemies anymore, it is still a place Anora might not think to look for us.
"And it's a nice enough place… even if the people a pretty silly here, huh?"
"Hehe. Yeah… at least they're funny," the little girl giggled as the former templar made his way around the area, looking for a florist's stall. "Papa, can I ask you something else?"
"I'm pretty sure you will even if I say no," he chuckled, finally spotting a stall.
"Hehe. I guess, but…" As the giggles died away so did the glee in Alistea's voice. "How come Auntie Leli went back into her old job and Mama's looking for a new one, but… you're not?"
"Someone's gotta keep an eye on you," he returned with a smirk though his focus was on the flower displays, looking for the roses, spotting them and wondering what color would Aliea perfer. "Leaving you to your devices is a bad idea and I'm not sure Orlais could handle a rampant Ali."
"I'm not that bad," she grumbled with a huff. As she crossed her arms and rested them on his head with a thump, invoking a soft groan from Alistair, but nothing else. Well… except another laugh.
"You're not? And what happened after every time you got into a fight? All those mothers who had their boys whipped good by you… came complaining that we should keep a leash on you while using their whining boys as a reason why… Ali, you're practically a public menace."
"If they're boys they should be tougher," Alistea muttered with a scoff. "And you know… Mama blames you. Because you just laugh when that happens…"
"I can't help it. This little four year old kid that is as fast as her mother with the fists of a qunari sending a bunch of headstrong boys into sobbing wrecks… anyhow…" He spoke with a high-pitch, clearly indicating a change in topic as he lift one dark red rose. "Think the average, completely unimaginative red rose is a safe bet? Or should we go with something else?"
"Get her a bunch and add in some pink," she stated in a flat, contemplative tone and remained silent as her father relayed the order to the merchant. But then she was back to being her talkative self. "So… Papa, why does Mama keep that rose? It's old and… crinkly… and faded…"
"Well… your papa gave that to your mama when I first fell in love," he explained with a smile, enjoying the memory of those rather blissful days of their young love as he watched the merchant arrange the bouquet. "I think it was what I told her when I gave her the flower that makes her like it so much."
"Oh? What did you tell her?" the child asked, excited curiosity abound in her voice and in her being as she began to bounce up and down on his shoulders.
"Well… you remember how Auntie Leli told you about the Blight?" he asked, pausing for a moment as he paid the merchant and handed the flowers to Alistea as he, once again, began to head out of the Market District. "Here, you can hold it because it was your idea. Anyhow… you remember that? And how bad a time it was?"
"How King Cailan died and so did most of the Grey Wardens? And all the people of Ferelden had to unite to defeat the darkspawn?"
"Smart girl," Alistair couldn't help but smile as pride welled up in his soul. She was a brilliant girl… like her mother. He hoped she'd be one to match the legacy of those before her… with none of the tragedy. "It wasn't a very… cheerful time. Seemed like, well… like it was going to be all over…"
"And you and Mama met and it was like everything was better already?"
Her guess was a perceptive one and similar, but not exactly. "It still didn't change what was happening, but… back then, those were the happiest days that I ever knew. She was like the warm, bright sunshine that pierced through the cold, cruel darkness and a beauty that seemed impossible to find when the events around us were ugly…"
"Wow… no wonder Mama keeps the rose. And why she loves you," Alistea said in a soft, but smiling voice before the curiosity invaded it once more. "So how did you and Mama meet? She never said. She said that if her papa didn't die you wouldn't have met so…"
"In short… a man I knew had been visiting her family and he helped her flee after from the… the attack that killed your mama's parent and well… we met after that. She would have no reason to run into me otherwise, really…" Alistair murmured, regretful to think what did bring them together, but… Aliea was right. It had to happen.
And now that Aliea and Alistea was part of his life… he didn't want that night to happen any differently.
"Oh… so who was the man? Have I ever met him? Is he…"
"No, Honey," he interrupted swiftly, not wanting to think about Duncan… particularly because he had abandoned his duty as a Grey Warden, something that the dead Warden would have probably never contemplated. "He died before you were born…"
"Oh, um… sorry, Papa…"
"It's okay. It's not like you knew," he tried to shrug aside. Not just for the shame of turning his back on his duty or the still lingering pain of Duncan's death, but because… none of it mattered anymore. He left the Wardens because one of them thought it was a fine idea to make Loghain a 'brother;' he held no contempt against Aliea for her part in that act knowing that she had done it to save his life – and succeeded. And with their daughter, he was rather relieved to have escaped that life, uncertain how he and Aliea could raise the girl if they were still actively part of the order. Also, in that regard, Alistair did have to wonder how Duncan would have taken the shift from comrades to lovers that had happened between the bastard prince and noble woman.
So none of these situations mattered.
All he wanted was the family he had. He didn't want to consider anything that could have caused otherwise.
And though he knew he shouldn't, Alistair didn't really care about anything else but the girl sitting on his shoulders and the woman whom the roses were for.
"Thank you, Marquis. Thank you so much," Aliea couldn't help but gush as she shook and Orlesian nobleman's proffered hand. After living for several years with inconsistent board jobs and looting to make a living – though it was hardly meager – it was good to know that she'd have a decent, consistent job for once. Especially with the aim for a more stable, wholesome upbringing for Alistea… she really couldn't be anything less that utterly grateful.
"I should thank you for thinking so highly of me, Aliea," the marquis Eudon Devereux smiled, a smile Aliea had always enjoyed. He was an elderly – now past sixty – but there was still a friendly, youthful look to his face, especially the delightful glimmer in his dark blue eyes. And it was hard to separate the notion of fun-loving and sociable from this man, given the circumstances of meeting the man – the gala she had attended with her father a year before the Fifth Blight where the marquis had been quite drunk. Then after the mix up the man had made – thinking the late teyrn to be Ferelden's king – Eudon simply found it amusing the mistake he had made and her father's candor to correct to man the next day. It had been what started a fond, but short-lived friendship between the two men and Eudon had grown to be impressed with Aliea's own cunning, stating his own eagerness to see the young Cousland's future unfold.
"I was surprised that your bard friend had sought me out and told me that I was your first choice for aid. I'm certain I've seen that bard before and that she must know others better than I…"
"I suppose, but… I'd rather seek out a friendly and familiar face rather than an unknown one," she said, her hand dropping from his before he beckoned her to follow him out of his study and down the corridor. "It has been several years since my last visit after all…"
"Yes, I have missed those visits and… my condolences for your parents," Eudon added, his voice actually carrying the age that was supposedly his in its sorrow. "I could scarcely believe when the news reached us of their deaths and the speculation that you and your brother were both lost. It's good to though that your brother is now teyrn, isn't he? Although… I had thought that you'd be the one to succeed your father…
"What exactly has been happening for you in these past years? I have heard little of your situation except that… you hardly seem to be recognized in Ferelden's court…"
The man's curiosity was quick to cause Aliea's body to grow cold and stiff, her fearful eyes glancing at him from the side. To explain to the man that she was hardly welcomed in her native land was the answer… the former warden could not see how that was… under favorable conditions. Actually she was even surprised that Eudon hadn't even asked why she even was in Orlais. Not that she wanted to tell him… any of this.
Luckily, she didn't have to. Before she had much of a chance to open her mouth, they were interrupted.
"Oh, my lord… I thought you were still in your study," exclaimed a maid as she almost stumbled into them.
"But as you can see… I'm right here," Eudon replied with a smile. "Now Inès, what did you need to see me for?"
"Actually, my lord… I came to fetch the Lady Cousland. Her husband and daughter are here…"
"Oh?" The marquis quickly turned to regard to woman, his brow raised with surprised. "Married and a mother? I had no idea…"
"I'm sorry I didn't mention them, Marquis. I didn't want to use them as a method to invoke guilt if you didn't have a use for me," she admitted honestly as she did not truly see how much of an issue it could be to speak of Alistair – as she doubted that his parentage was known in Orlais – or Alistea – how could having a child be an issue?
"You are Bryce's daughter, aren't you? No desire to take advantage of any given situation," the Orlesian noble continued to smile and waved off before them. "But I hope that you'll allow me to meet your family. I am curious to see the sort of man you've married and what your child would be like.
"And Aliea… please, it's Eudon. Don't think that because I haven't seen you in years that I wish us to return to formalities."
"Sorry, Mar… I mean, Eudon. It's just been so long and yes, of course," she said, a smile on her lips as well now. "I'd be delighted to introduce you to them. Although… I'm sure my daughter will introduce herself quite readily…"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oh… you'll see," Aliea smirked and said no more as they continued after Inès and Eudon got his answer as they came to his estate's main hall.
"Mama!" Alistea was swift to cry out as they entered the hall, the child quickly ignoring the clapping game she had been playing with her father. Instead, now she raced to her mother who quickly stretched out her arms and picked up the little girl, gladly accepting her embrace. "So did you get the job, huh? Did you? Did you?"
"So unfortunately, she has yet to gain the Cousland tact," Eudon gave a laugh, quickly calling Alistea's attention, her face contorting with suspicion. And that only made the elder man laugh all the more. "I must say, Aliea… she is as pretty as her mother, but she hardly looks a thing like you."
"She favors her father… in nearly everything it seems," Aliea sighed, her eyes on her girl, an eyebrow raised before looking over to Alistair who now stood before them, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. She also turned a skeptic look to her husband who simply shrugged. Knowing she wasn't going to get an answer from him yet, she turned to Eudon. "This is my daughter, Alistea, and my husband, Alistair."
"Ah, a delight to meet you. The name's Eudon Devereux. I was an acquaintance of the late Teyrn Bryce, Maker rest his soul," the noble said as he reached to shake Alistair's hand a motion he reciprocated quickly. "And I must say, sir, you must be an exceptional man to be able to have gained Aliea's hand in marriage. I'm aware of how stubborn her family can be. However… this is very much a surprise to me. Bryce never made mention of you…"
"I never met her father," Alistair replied simply, his brow furrowed just as Aliea's did. "We didn't met until, well… after the attack that claimed her parents' lives."
"Truly? I thought that was just a little over six years ago, wasn't it?" Eudon questioned, casting a questioning glance at Alistea. "But your child… she can't be much younger than six… can she?"
"She turned five just recently," Aliea affirmed before continuing as she realized the man's thoughts. "And Eudon… yes, things did happen fast, if that's what you're wondering. But with circumstances as they were in Ferelden at the time, could it really have been anything but?
"Still… it hardly matters. All that does is that Alistair and I found each other, that we're together, and we have our daughter."
"So much like a Cousland," the marquis smiled, motioning his had as if to brush of a thought. "Oh, I was just surprised by the notion that you might have been some impulsive youth for once. Never seemed to fit your nature. And you are such a stubborn young woman. Your father often voiced how impossible you were in contending with suitors…"
"And Eudon, I'm sure you always remember how eager I was to live up to my father's warrior reputation," Aliea smirked. "Of course I'd want someone who I was able to share such an experience with…"
"Ah… so a love founded in the flames of battle. That does sound like you." The man then clapped his hands together before shooing them off, a grin still plastered on his lips. "Oh, now off with you youngsters. That child of yours seems itching for sunlight and a good stretch of her legs. No need to waste it entertaining an old man like me. You'll have to deal with me more than you can handle soon enough after all."
But Aliea and Alistair did not leave so quickly. At least not without a few more farewells to Eudon before leaving his estate and making the walk home. Owning an actual place to live, it was something of a thought that delight Aliea, not only for her daughter's sake, but her own. Though she could not deny that the adversities of the Blight made her stronger, they made her just as weak as well through all the pain and suffering that she never wanted. Despite all those desires of excitement in her youth, Aliea had long lost that need, growing nostalgic for those blissful days amongst her family before it was destroyed. She wanted something similar with his husband and daughter.
Thank the Maker it was becoming a possibility.
"Mama… who was that man? Is he the one you're going to work for?" Alistea asked, breaking a silence that had descended upon the family on the slow journey home.
"He's a family friend and yes, I'll be working with him. Managing business he has here mostly, particularly when he isn't in the city. Boring adult stuff," Aliea added as her daughter gave her a cynical stare. "Anyhow… I have the question for the both of you now…
"What are the roses for?"
"Oh!" Alistea gasped before spinning around to face Alistair holding a hand out to him. "Papa, can I?" With a smile, he handed the bouquet to the girl who quickly turned around again to face her mother, proudly holding out the flowers. "Here Mama! Papa and I wanted to… to…" Her face fell quickly, but not with sadness, disappointment, or anything of the sort. Simply in concentration as she continued to speak. Or try to. "Con… con- gra… ju… Papa," she relented, turning back around to her father, "I can't remember the word…"
"Congratulate," he said for her as he turned a smile over to his wife as he stepped closer and slid an arm around her waist. "On a job well done. It was Ali's idea. To get you a gift of congratulations for getting a job or if it somehow – though we both couldn't see how – came to you not getting it, well… they were to cheer you up in that scenario…"
"That's very sweet of you, Darling," Aliea smiled as she took the bouquet into one hand before playfully nuzzling Alistea's nose, making the girl give her uncontainable giggles. "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"
Although Aliea was expected more giggles, the girl instead fell silent, pulling away and glancing cautiously over at her father. It made Aliea blink a few times, baffled by the sudden stillness from her daughter. Especially when she caught the look of worry and shame that crossed over her girl's face.
"Ali? Baby… what's wrong?"
Slowly, Alistea turned back to her mother, her eyes growing wet and her lower lip beginning to tremble. She spoke, but very quietly and shakily. "I… I'm not a good girl, Mama. I hurt Papa…"
"Huh? What? Why?" The former Warden spun to face the other, her eyes boring into his for an answer. "What's she talking about? What happened?"
"Nothing really… not if Ali's understood what she did wrong…"
"I do," the girl whispered, her head leaning onto her mother's shoulders as if still shameful and trying to hide.
"Then like I said, it was nothing," Alistair shrugged, but continued on when Aliea threw a glare his way. "It's just adjustment issues, Love. We'll talk about it later, but… I don't think we'll need to worry about that problem. Well…I hope we don't…"
"Alright," Aliea sighed, knowing her husband didn't speak of the problem because Alistea was with them. She hoped that the problem wasn't too drastic and that Alistair's reason for 'adjustment' was really all it was. Though… there really was still much more adjusting their daughter would have to face.
But she'd worry about it later. Right now, she had a daughter in her arms she hated to see sad.
"Either way… it's nice to know that someone was thinking about me…" she murmured to the girl giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Are you trying to say I wasn't thinking about you? Hey, I paid," Alistair quickly spoke up with mock affront.
"That's obvious. I'd be worried if Ali had done so… for several reason. And… I also know what you start thinking when you give me roses," the noble born grinned, as she and their daughter both turned to face him. "And well… we'll just have to see if you're lucky tonight, now won't we?"
"Such a cruel woman you are," he groaned, shaking his head as they continued on.
"You're luck increases if you pay for supper tonight…"
"Very cruel… though slightly considerate."
"So we're gonna go out for supper then, Mama?" Alisea broke in, twisting around to look at her mother with big, brown eyes.
"Why not? I think it's time for us to have a bit of a celebration, don't you think? Hopefully we'll be able to wait for Auntie Leli before we go out…"
"Oh goodie. I didn't really want Papa to cook tonight again…"
"Hey!"
"Well… it's you or Mama… and Mama's worse…"
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Aliea groaned before glaring at her husband again as he gave a chuckle. "You want to lose that chance of yours tonight?"
"I wasn't agreeing with her," he returned, still grinning like the fool she had fallen for years ago. "Just finding it funny how blunt Ali is. That man was right. She hardly has your subtlety or tact…"
"That's your influence," she countered with a shake of her head. "Now could we just try to get home faster? I'd like a bath and to change in something more casual before the day continues."
However, as much as Aliea was keen to return to a peasant blouse and hide pants – which she found far more comfortable than the rather stiff and tight gown – the lengthy journey ahead of them hardly bothered her. She had forgone Leliana's suggestion in shoes and it allowed them to walk for some time before they came to the edges of the main city where they did relent to hiring transportation to their home far from the hustle and bustle of Val Royaeux. They could have done so earlier, but if there was anything Aliea enjoyed about her daughter was the childish enthusiasm present in her being. And as Alistea's silence began to lift and she was the talkative, curious child she usually was; to have found a ride would have left the girl feeling dissatisfied in having sights pass her in a glance and be barred from any sort of interaction with the city around her and the child was certainly enthralled by the street side entertainers. Listening to her daughter speak so enthusiastically of the things around her and the things she knew, with the man she loved – albeit wanted to slap at times – at her side… how could Aliea want to hasten this time with her family?
However, upon reaching their new home, Aliea did begin to wish they had hurried their walk.
The door was unlocked, although that had not bothered the family at first, particularly as they thought Leliana had returned from seeking out any jobs for bards. But when they called out for her and received no response… that was when Aliea felt a slight chill travel up her spine. Her body gave a discomforted jerk, one both her husband and daughter caught as they turned to face her. But Aliea's eyes were focused only on her husband, having felt the stiffness of his arm and realizing her had gotten the same feeling she did.
It was not the sensing of darkspawn; that would have been something darker and driven a stronger panic into them.
No, this was merely nerves and gut, a sense of something familiar, but cold and unwelcomed…
"Mama… Papa… what's wrong? Why are you scared and… where's Auntie Leli?"
The parents turned to their daughter, silence still drifting amongst them before Aliea finally spoke, though in a low voice as Alistair removed himself from her, stepping forward, towards the dining area. "I don't know, Darling. I'm not sure about anything," she said, following after the former templar, her hold on Alistea constraining, wondering if it was foolish nerves… or something worse.
Aliea didn't know what to think when the three of them made their way into the dining room and came face-to-face to the intruder.
"My my… look who we have here. I couldn't believe the notion, yet… here you are…"
And neither could Aliea believe who was before her as her arms instantly brought her daughter's form in closer and more securely to her body just as Alistair's arm extended out before his family, putting himself between them and the intruder.
She just couldn't not grasp the fact that here, before her… stood Morrigan.
Endnote: So basically this chapter states mostly all the reasons why I had Alistair and Aliea travel to Orlais instead of anywhere else. A marquis of Orlais had been mentioned and I thought to see about incorporating him into the story (though he's character still has yet to be fleshed out). Leliana's former life, as I tihnk you picked up on already. And now... Morrigan's presence. She is the SOLE reason why I shove the couple in Orlais. I want Morrigan in the story and that's were she is. So Morrigan has entered finally. ^_^ (Yes... I like the woman... to a point)
And just to mention... yeah, I had Eamon and Isolde have another kid. I read that they have another child if you opt to kill Connor (which I could never do) and it's a girl whom they name Rowan. So… why do I deviate? Because I have a severe dislike of naming children after a loved one who has died. I feel as though that means they are more concerned with seeing that person live on, rather than seeing this new being have a live of his/her own to live. After all, in a way, that person will always be thought of to be the one who died and give that child a burden to live up to that person or be that person or such. Maybe not always and not for certain, but it just to me seems unfair to do something like that to a child, in even a small part. Just as I think it's wrong to expect a child to emulate their parents simply because of blood. Yea, I know… to do honor, but still…
Anyhow… that's why Eamon and Isolde's daughter in my story is named Gwyneth and not Rowan.
And yea… Teagan has yet to marry Kaitlyn, but I've no idea when exactly that would have happened. I'd imagine he'd need time for the foundry to become established and for her to gain a fortune and blah blah blah… so yea….
I don't think there's anything else to say except... R&R. XP
