Warning: Yaoi/boy-on-boy
Pairings: Alistair/m!Grey Warden, m!Grey Warden/m!OC
Story: There's always been that little nagging voice in the back of his head, telling Ches it would all end someday. He just didn't think he would meet the woman he took his place. So he ran, as fast and as far as he could, and though he picked up a straggler, he still had to run.
Disclaimer: Characters (c) Bioware
Ches (c) Me
A/N: So... there will be more of this story, I just wanted to get something up before Christmas! A little... happy birthday to Jesus. It's a long story, too! Well, for me, at least. Takes place between Awakening and Origins, cause I can.
It wasn't like he hadn't expected it; it was the whole reason the human had broken his heart into tiny pieces, pieces so small not even his magic could ever hope to put all the pieces back together. But it was done, over, and yet… Not moments before, he would have stood before the Maker and sworn that he loved Alistair, and that Alistair loved him back. But that was seconds ago. And just a second can change the fate of the world. Like choosing whether or not to knock on the king's closed door.
"A-ah, sorry, my lord!" He had reverted to the language to address humans as when he was a child in the Alienage. He knew Alistair would lecture him later about the slip of the tongue, but right now… "I'll just- sorry!" The young elfin mage turned and darted out in the hallway, the image of the beautiful maiden straddling Alistair's unclothed thighs burning the back of his eyes. He slammed the door shut and ran, to where he didn't know, he just knew he had to run. He couldn't stand seeing Alistair with a woman, couldn't stand thinking Alistair was… was…
"Shit…" the mage hissed as he finally came to a stop in a lonely hall filled with the portraits of previous kings. He leaned against the wall, sliding down to his knees as he let the tears stream down his cheeks. He couldn't stand this, any of it! He wasn't supposed to be a hero; he was supposed to be back in the tower with Jowan laughing about the latest Templar gossip. He didn't want this, he had never wanted this! Duncan had been forced to conscript him for Maker's sake! And he was being a baby about all this; Alistair deserved to be happy with someone, even if that someone was a whore…
A small whimper made the young male look up to see Collin looking at him, tail barely wagging as he tried to figure out what was wrong with his master. "I know, Collin. Let's get out of here. We should have left weeks ago," the mage whispered, rubbing at his still-dripping eyes and wiping his running nose. He knew perfectly well he looked like a wreck, which was why he was glad Collin had been the one to find him. He unsteadily stood, gently placing a hand on Collin's head as he walked beside the Mabari. "We have to start recruiting for the Grey Wardens! It is my job now, anyways. We'll help people rebuild throughout the country, too… Why don't we head to the Circle first?" he tilted his head to look down at the Mabari next to him, who barked happily. "We could visit Dagna!"
Finally, after what seemed like an hour or two, the young mage and Mabari came to a plain wooden, opening it to find a plain bedroom with a simple bed and simple everything. The elf chuckled slightly as he opened the wardrobe, taking out the traveling bag he had never gotten rid of. Collin whined slightly as his master began putting everything he owned in the smallish bag, even the poor hound's toys and snacks. The mage turned to Collin, smiling slightly, sadly, as he reached out to pet the poor hound. "We'll grab some food from the kitchen," he murmured, tugging his bag over his shoulder. "We'll just have to deal with stew after that until we can get to another city, town, whatever."
Quietly, the male snuck out of his room with Collin at his heels. He darted down the familiar hallways until he reached the dining hall. He waved at some of the elfin servants, who enthusiastically waved back at their hero magi hero. He grinned as he walked into the kitchen, explaining that he was leaving to Heather, the head cook who he had come to trust. She just smiled and packed him a lunch and some snacks of various fruits and dried meats. "Just make sure he gets regular meals, Collin!" She told the Mabari before the mage and hound had gone back out into the maze of hallways, knowing this might be the last she ever saw of the hero of Ferelden.
"Where's Ches going?" one of the scullery maids asked quietly. "With that bag and all it looks like he's leaving…"
"He is the Ferelden Grey Warden Commander. He had a duty, now, though he may not have asked for it. We'll not see him again, not as he is now," Heather murmured as she went back to the dough she had been kneading. "Child is going to go down in legend, for who he was and who he will be."
The scullery maid tilted her head slightly, not fully understanding the meaning of the elder woman's words. She shrugged slightly, only sparing a glance to where the young mage had disappeared. She wondered if he would ever come back to this place, maybe he would recruit her! Though she couldn't really fight… A smile played on her lips as she thought of it, the mage traversing the land in search of adventure. What a romantic life he led.
"You are leaving?" The quiet, accented voice made Ches turn slightly, smiling when he saw Zevran. "I would think you would at least say until…"
"I have recruiting to do, Zev," the mage murmured, walking forward slightly to have Zevran encase him in a gentle hug. "You knew I wasn't staying for very long. I have a duty, to the Grey Warden's and to Ferelden. And don't even think of coming with me, Alistair needs you here to make sure he doesn't get assassinated." The elf felt the Antivan chuckle against him, tightening his hold on the young mage at the same time. "I'll miss you, too, Zev…"
"Just come back alive," Zevran murmured as he separated himself from the young mage, his eyes soft as he looked the mage up and down. "Or Alistair and I will be sorely put out."
"No promises," the mage giggled. "Come on, Collin." And he was away before Zevran could utter another word. The mage seemed to float down the hallways, and Zevran knew exactly which exit he was going to use. It was the one Alistair didn't know of, the one Alistair couldn't find him leaving through. The mage smiled down at his hound, patting the Mabari's head as they briskly walked through the hallways.
They met no further resistance within the palace, meaning the two were on the home stretch. All they needed to do was get out of the city by nightfall, or whenever Alistair got done with his whore and decided to come looking for him, if he already wasn't. He hadn't been meant to see that image, the girl laying herself out for the king, his hands tight on her hips, lips red and bruised from kissing. He had been the only one to give Alistair lips that looked like that, he had been the one to steal Alistair's first kiss, his first… well, everything. They had given each other their firsts, because they knew that they loved each other.
"There are times I regret it, Collin," the elf murmured as he walked through the market place with his faithful hound. "Letting Eamon make Alistair king, I mean. But… Anora would have banished him! Or worse… I couldn't stand that… maybe it would have been easier than this, though. Easier than watching him…" He pulled up the hood he had recently attached to his robes, hiding his face and the tears that threatened to fall. It wasn't supposed to be this hard to let go, to just say it was over and they were done!
"Let's get out of here, Collin…"
"I swear to the Maker, Zevran, if you don't tell me this moment where he's gone…" Alistair had the elf backed up against a wall, his eyes sparking with vicious intent. Alistair had realized only moments ago that his fellow Grey Warden had disappeared, leaving the palace and vanishing into thin air. When Ches had walked in, seeing the position he had been in… He had no excuse for it; he couldn't say it had been a mistake when it hadn't. But what he did know, and what he needed for Ches to know, was that his heart would always belong to Ches, for the mage truly was the most beautiful and amazing creature on the face of the earth.
"Even if I knew, I would not tell you, Alistair. You broke his heart, and for what? An heir? Because some of the people may not approve? You can't please everyone all the time, my king, but the one person you should care about more than anything you hurt. I do not know where he has gone; only that he has. He did not tell me why, only that he must begin recruiting," Zevran finally finished, wanting to spit in Alistair's face for the very way he had treated his beloved Warden. The two were friends, yes, and that meant Zevran would do everything he could to ensure the elf's happiness.
Alistair backed up, not looking at Zevran, until he back hit the opposite wall. "I… bought this for him," he whispered, drawing a beautifully simple gold ring from his pocket. Zevran's eyes widened as he realized the fumbling buffoon's intent. "I wanted to ask him to marry me. To rule beside me, until we both perish from this curse… But… Then I heard him talking with Leliana, about how he was needed, about how he was going to go and recruit other Warden's once the Blight was defeated. And then about how I am the rightful king and Leliana pointed out that I would need an heir someday if I did become king, and… and… I lost my nerve. I don't know why, I had the perfect moment, but somehow…"
"You couldn't," Zevran murmured quietly. "You know he would have said yes. No matter what it meant for the future. As for an heir…" Zevran glanced at Alistair, taking in the human's distraught features, the way his eyes glistened when he looked at that tiny ring. "If you leave now, you might be able to intercept him at the gates."
Alistair glanced up at the Antivan, grinning his boyish grin as he slipped the ring back into his pocket. He looked alive again, smiling like that, like the Alistair Zevran had become so accustomed to traveling with, the Templar turned Warden who shared his banter. Though unlike Ches he had not been a formidable competitor, the Antivan had still taken a liking to the young human's way of speech and mannerisms. And when he had ultimately learned of Alistair and the Warden's… intimate knowledge of each other, he had known the Warden could be with no one better. The bastard-king would not hurt him. Not on purpose.
"Thank you, Zevran," Alistair whispered as he stood straight and ran down the hall. He had to find Ches, had to explain. His feet barely touched the polished stone of the palace, nearly tripping on the carpeting. The servants and others yelled and scoffed at him as he ran, a goofy grin plastered across his features. He hadn't realized just how much fun it would be, running like this again.
"Please, wait for me, Ches…"
"Ready, Collin?" The Mabari barked in agreement, making a smile cross the young mage's hooded lips. He stood at the gate of the city, ready to leave this whole mess behind him, ready to begin recruiting. Ready to start anew.
Alistair skidded around a corner, ignoring the cheers and gasps as people watched their king run through the market like a mad-man. He heard a familiar laugh, Shianni's, but he ignored it in favor of making sure his love didn't leave the city. Didn't leave him without knowing Alistair was his, body and soul.
Ches began the long walk down the road, hand on Collin's head as they walked side-by-side. It was odd leaving the city with none of his companions besides the scarred Mabari who had fought so bravely alongside him. It was strange not having Zevran's endless teasing echoing as Oghren laughed and Wynne attempted to lecture him. And without Leliana's attempting to convert Morrigan, make her see the light of the Maker and shoes, it just seemed dull. It was too bright without Sten's bulking figure to walk beside him, but most of all… it was lonely without Alistair. To kiss him, to hold him, to tell him it was alright, to lie beside him after a night of love making…
"No…" Alistair gasped for air, staring out into over the vast road, his heart sinking as he realized he was too late. Much too late… Ches had left without so much as a good-bye; he had left without getting permission! It was wrong, his beloved just leaving like that… So very wrong… "I'm sorry, Ches, I'm sorry."
The mage sighed as he set up a small tent, though he knew he was not likely to sleep. He had always seemed to attract darkspawn, even if they were in the middle of a city! At least out here like this he could let his full power out without having to worry about his companions. Well, Collin. But the hound was smart enough to know when to back down and let Ches do his mage thing. Magic was not a thing the Mabari was a fan of, besides healing spells and Mabari crunch of course. And of course Ches could understand, magic was scary even if you wielded it, and many saw it as a curse cast upon them by the Maker himself.
"Heh, I highly doubt that," Ches muttered as he cast a minor fire spell, the campfire he had set up crackling to life before his eyes, the warmth a welcome change from Ferelden's icy cold normality. He wished he could have been born in Antiva, sometimes, from the way Zevran told tales of the land it was a dream come true. A place of pure warmth and light and a place where maybe mages weren't as feared…
The first night saw the two travelers nothing in the way of adventure, much as Ches had suspected. The areas closest to Denerim had been cleared of any lingering darkspawn, meaning Ches would find no stragglers here. Lothering seemed like a good place to start, helping the Chantry to rebuild the tiny trading town. He had always heard that one day Lothering would see its end. Well, he was sure to see its new beginning!
It had been a week, Ches was sure they had covered a good couple miles in that time. Collin was tired; he had been hunting every night for their meals while Ches searched for herbs, in case they were attacked. "We'll need to head to the Circle after we hang out in Lothering for a while. I'll need to stock up on lyrium dust and potions," Ches muttered as he checked his supply. Collin whined slightly. "I know, I should have thought of this before I left, but it seemed like enough then!" Once again, the hound whined, but Ches slowly realized the whine wasn't targeted towards what he was saying. Looking up immediately, Ches cursed that his keen senses seemed to have dulled.
A young human male stood before him, a slight smile across his lips. But the smile didn't last long.
Ches was on his feet, staff at the ready as he levelly glared at the human. He took in the sword that hung across the male's back was the only thing the mage cared about, not even the way Collin seemed to settle down around the man, like one of their companions. He couldn't afford to be lenient with anyone, let alone a stranger.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the human stuttered, putting his hands up in a sign of peace when he saw the mage truly meant business. "No need to be rash! I didn't mean to startle you, sir mage! I thought you heard me coming, your hound sure did!"
Ches glanced down at Collin, and when he realized the dog had made no move against the human, he slowly let his staff fall slightly. He was still on edge, still worried about this stranger. But Collin was a smart hound; he would have attacked the human if he thought him a threat to his master. Ches would have to trust his companion's judgment, for now.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Ches hissed, hoping the flames shadowed his face enough to be unrecognizable. Or that the human just didn't know who he was. "Speak quickly or I swear to the Maker I will strike you down where you stand."
"I-I was traveling down the road when I saw smoke. I thought there might be travelers nearby… I didn't think I would find an elf as ravishing as yourself," the smirk across the male's face distinctly reminded Ches of Zevran. The thought of the assassin had Ches collapsing on the bed roll he had yet to set out. He knew the human's eyes had widened at his sudden defenseless stature, but right now he focused on massaging the migraine he felt coming on.
"I swear, if you are from the Crows, I will have you know I defeated two of your assassin's already, I don't mind defeating another," he growled, throwing his staff to the ground. Collin whined and stood up, gently nudging his master's arm.
"I… do not know what the Crows are," the warrior muttered. "My name is Derek. I was traveling to Denerim, to help rebuild."
"Then you're a little late," Ches chuckled, looking up at Derek. He knew he probably looked a mess, his now-long hair out of place and bags under his eyes. "I was going to Lothering from Denerim. There is plenty of help in Denerim; the king is mustering the forces to rebuild as fast as possible, so that focus can be paid to other… less fortune towns. Lothering being one of them." He rubbed his head slightly, massaging his temple and gently running a pale hand through his red hair. He was worried about what this warrior would do now, would he ask to tag along? He couldn't stand having someone who was eventually going to leave him! He had gotten close to all his companions, knowing that they were going to leave, and yet…
"Ah…" Derek murmured, looking awkward as he shuffled from foot to foot. "I was also… sort of hoping to meet the man who saved us all. They say he stands tall, like a giant, and has more magic than any mage of the Imperium ever did! It's amazing a mage saved us all, don't you think?"
Ches looked up to see Derek beaming, speaking of the elf right in front of him. "A giant, huh? Rumors spread like wildfire. He's an elf, originally from Denerim himself. You probably wouldn't be able to pick him out of a crowd," he chuckled slightly, shaking his head. "Amazing how things can change and spread from word of mouth alone…"
"You've seen him, then?" Derek asked happily. Ches glanced up at the human. His joy was almost contagious, and he sighed, patting the ground next to him. Derek grinned, taking a seat next to the red-headed elf.
"You remind me of an innocence I had forgotten existed in this world. Yes, I have seen your hero and his companions. King Alistair is a tall man, beautiful man, though I would not know how handsome on the human scale of things. He seems… too young to be ruling, but his companions seem to know enough to help him," Ches explained quietly. He was so glad this young human did not know who he was, did not know what he had done for this country. It was… nice.
"What are these "Crows" you mentioned? And asking if I was one of them?" Derek inquired. Ches did not know what he was doing; spilling his deepest secrets to a complete stranger, but it was just so tiring to keep this charade up…
Ches held back a small sob, running a hand over his eyes as Collin set his head in the elf's lap. "I… had a companion, Zevran. He was once an assassin for the Crows, which are based in Antiva. You act like him, flirting with everything that has a pulse. I, uh, I had to leave him behind when I left Denerim. I left all my companions behind save Collin here, actually."
"I… oh…" Derek muttered, sitting back slightly. "Well… would you mind a little more company? If I'm not needed in Denerim, maybe I could be put to better use in Lothering." Ches glanced at the human, a wide grin spreading across his almost childish features.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt…"
"Oh, thank you!" Derek laughed. "You won't regret it! Though… I've run into a few bands of darkspawn stragglers, but I'll warn you about them! I promise not one will lay a hand on you!"
Ches raised a brow at Derek's heroic behavior. "I am not helpless, human, I am a mage. And I have quite a few spells up my sleeve…"
"Stop." Ches held out an arm, his brown eyes narrowing as he stared out ahead at the road. Derek had been traveling with the mage and war-hound for two weeks now, and Ches had managed to get around telling him about being a Grey Warden. "There's darkspawn ahead, two emissaries with them. There's no way to go around them." Ches turned to Derek, his eyes prepared for battle, the light-heartedness that Derek seemed to retrieve gone. "Stay behind Collin and me. You don't know how to fight with us yet, you'll only get in the way."
"Wha-bu-I-"
Ches didn't give him a chance to talk, already preparing to cast an Inferno. It would take care of the weak emissaries, and make it easier to take down the rest of the pests. "Collin, go," Ches hissed as they came around a corner and face-to-face with a pack of darkspawn. He let the spell go as his hound raced forward.
"Cone of cold!" he muttered, freezing the few darkspawn that came running at him, sending the rest of them to the ground with a follow-up Fireball. He didn't have time to look back at Derek before a Crushing Prison hit him. Almost unused to the pain it caused, he cried out in agony as his feet were lifted off the ground. When he was sent to his knees as the spell ended, he looked up to see Collin finishing off the last genlock.
"Ugh…" he muttered, clutching his stomach as he nearly doubled over. "Forgot how much that hurt…" Holding tightly to his staff, Ches pulled himself to his feet, barely noticing the warm arm that had encased his waist, helping him up. "Sorry you had to see that, Derek… I was sure that Inferno spell got him…"
When Collin began barking, Ches immediately cast a Heal spell, making sure his hound wasn't wounded too badly at the same time. Collin stuck his nose in Ches' middle, sniffing the male and making sure his master also wasn't hurt.
"You… wow… What was that?" Derek muttered, helping Ches get to the comfort of the trees. "I mean that spell that was cast on you! I've never seen anything like it!"
Ches chuckled and immediately regretted it, placing a hand over his mouth. "Crushing Prison," he managed to get out as Derek laid him on the soft bed of leaves. "I hate that spell so much… Managed to knock me out a few times… Damn it, I thought I killed that damned emissary! Missing things like that… I can't believe I lost my touch this much…"
Collin whimpered slightly, lying down next to his master. "I don't think…" Derek murmured quietly as he began to unpack everything. "I mean, it isn't really your fault! Anyone could have made that mistake-"
"But I'm not just anyone, Derek!" Ches hissed, jolting his body into a sitting position. It hurt, sure, but not as badly as most of the wounds he had suffered. He struggled to his feet, pacing impatiently. "I'm a Grey Warden, damn it! I put a king on the dwarven throne, saved the Circle, saved Redcliffe, killed a high dragon, found Andraste's ashes, destroyed a centuries old curse, and killed the Archdemon! I don't, can't, miss things like that! I can't just…" Ches finally fell to his knees on the ground, not minding the snow that had begun to fall, or the kind arm that was placed around him as he began to cry. All he knew was the desperate cries that came ripping from his throat, echoing throughout the forest. "I can't do this anymore!"
Derek rocked the elf back and forth, stroking his back as the let the mage cry into his shoulder. So Ches was Ferelden's hero… he should have guessed, he realized, it was obvious. A mage outside the Circle with no templar? No one but the Ferelden's most cherished mage would be able to do that…
Neither knew how long it was, but finally Ches was just taking shaking breaths though he still clung to the sparse fabric spaced between the harsh metal of Derek's armor. He felt his eyes becoming heavy, happy that the tears and the pain had finally faded. "Thank you, Derek," he whispered as he finally let the darkness take over, and he fell into the sleep of the Fade.
"Good night, Ches," the warrior whispered. Derek glanced at Collin, the hound happily munching on a squirrel he had caught not two minutes ago. He sighed and leaned back against a tree, tugging a blanket from the pack he had set on the ground. Tossing over the two of them, Derek smiled as Ches sighed and moved closer to him in his sleep, Derek's hold tightening on the mage. "You deserve it…"
"Alistair…" Ches whispered, nuzzling the warmth he laid atop. "We need to get up…" A chuckle alerted Ches to Alistair's wakefulness, or the man he thought was Alistair. He sighed as he slowly opened his chocolate brown eyes, and he suddenly wished he was asleep again.
He jolted upright, blush spread across his face as he immediately scrambled backwards. "I-I am sorry," Ches muttered, running a hand through his hair as he tried to stand. He only managed to look foolish as his feet caught in the blanket and fell forward onto Derek's chest. "Sorry," Ches squeaked as he looked up into Derek's too-young face.
And before either could say a thing, their lips were connected and their fingers intertwined. It had just happened. And neither were complaining.