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Ch. 13 Star-crossed
Violet hadn't slept as soundly as she had hoped. She couldn't erase the images of her fellow mages turned into abominations. Their twisted features and soulless eyes pained her thoughts. Uldred was struck down by her hand, but those hands held the same power that called forth the plague of demons.
She thought of the Templar Cullen and his confession. Her mind was riddled with guilt. He must have fought so hard and long against the demons that played with his desires. Though their relationship had not gone past passing conversations and smiles, it seemed his feelings ran much deeper – only to be attacked and manipulated; tormented into seduction and submission. His new mistrust and hatred against mages was so strong.
It was difficult for her not to see herself as nothing more than demon bait waiting to wreak havoc on innocents. For the first time, she thought of her powers as a curse rather than a means to fight; a means of survival and revenge. She always viewed the world in black and white, but as of late, everything was turning to different shades of grey. No more good and evil or right and wrong. As Cullen had put it, she hoped her mercy would not be her own downfall.
Again, the same question kept creeping to the front of her mind: was it the right choice? She was glad to restore order. The Mages gave their support and several now followed them back to Redcliffe to help cleanse Connor.
As she walked with the group down the road she silently watched the dirt trail move under her feet. She couldn't voice her concerns yet. She would have to wait until they camped again.
An arm slid around her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. Violet looked up to find Alistair looking down at her with a small smile. His face was soft with concern. "Are you all right Violet?"
It was nice to have him there. Though she didn't try to hide her emotions it was still a pleasant surprise to have someone take notice. She would tell him later. Now wasn't the time. "I'm all right Alistair. Thank you," she said with a sad smile.
He frowned. She knew he wasn't buying it. "Are you sure?"
"If you're a good boy, maybe I'll tell you later," she said, trying her best to lighten the mood and give him a genuine smile.
"Ah, then I shall do my best my lady." He gave her a final squeeze before letting his arm drop to casually walk beside her.
The rest of the party hung back, chatting and gossiping amongst themselves. Violet resumed watching the dirt crunch under her boots. After a few moments she looked back up and found Alistair looking at her. She quickly averted her eyes and stared into the distance.
Was he watching me the whole time? Violet turned a little to catch a peripheral view. Alistair had turned away the same instant and his ears were a bright pink.
The clouds were gathering and turning a dark grey. The wind howled faintly as a chilled breeze graced her cheeks. It isn't sun burn, she concluded and giggled inwardly.
"It's about to rain," Alistair confidently pointed out as he looked up into the sky. Thunder softly cackled in the distance.
"The clouds are getting dark, indeed," Zevran added. "Unfortunately, it looks like a coming storm. Not a summer shower."
"Keep walking along the path. I'll find you," Morrigan announced and quickly handed Leliana her staff. Leliana was startled by the gesture, but took it as Morrigan shifted into a raven and flew into the air. Her clothes dropped to the ground at Leliana's feet.
"Oh! Um… I suppose I'll hold onto these," she said and began picking up the garments.
The clouds lit up now and then with the thunder increasing its volume and frequency. The winds howled louder and flapped the group's loose clothing. A couple of the mages held down their robes to keep it from flying up too high. At that point, Zevran started tailing in the back with a suspiciously pleased grin. The few female mages that huddled together eyed him uncomfortably. Eventually, Wynne took notice and sternly ordered him to walk in front of them.
Zevran chuckled. "You are keeping an eye on me then, my dear Wynne? I hope you enjoy the view."
Wynne sighed irritably, but made no comment. Violet couldn't help but smile though. The assassin's teasing was quite entertaining. At the corner of her eye she thought she saw Alistair frown, but the raven's return grabbed her attention.
They followed the raven toward the mountainside and eventually came to a sizable cave. By then the rain began its descent and fairly soaked the party's clothes.
It didn't take long for a fire to blaze and have the travelers settled around it. The Circle mages looked the most pleased to get off their feet for a while. Violet smiled remembering how she first complained about walking such long distances and the calluses that formed on her soles.
She found a boulder farther into the cave and sat down. Laughter quickly echoed through the cave and she watched everyone's smiling faces. It was a nice sight. It felt peaceful and light-hearted despite the ugly weather. After watching them for a moment longer she finally decided to pull off her boots and started to rub her foot. She was starting to wonder about buying new shoes when Alistair walked up next to her.
"Still not used to walking?" he asked and leaned against the cave wall.
"I'm getting there. I'm forming big ugly calluses and everything," she said as she squished her face in disapproval and extended her leg to wiggle a foot.
Alistair chuckled. "Oh yes, they're hideous. Best to put them away, I think."
Violet scoffed and pretended to be offended. "Well, my feet are still dainty compared to your thick stumps," she said, waving a hand toward his. "I'll bet they're as bad as the darkspawn's."
"Ouch! Comparing me to darkspawn now? I'm hurt."
"That's what you get for calling my feet hideous," she said, grinning with her nose upturned. "And it looks like I won't be telling you about what I was thinking earlier after all."
"Oh," he said, just remembering their quick conversation. "I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically. "Can you forgive me?"
She continued to hold her nose high and thrust her foot toward him. "Maybe; if you rub my feet for me, human." Violet smiled wickedly.
Alistair snorted, but started to drop to his knees. "As you wish, my lady," he said and started to gently massage her soles.
Violet smirked. She half expected another retort, not submission, yet there he was on his knees. She laughed.
"And what is so funny?" he asked, looking up at her curiously, but still amused.
"Don't you find it strange that a human, almost-templar, prince is rubbing the feet of a lowly elf-mage?"
Alistair paused for a moment, looked down at his hands, then continued to rub. "You make me sound so important."
"You are important," she said. She didn't mean to sound so serious, but she was.
He scoffed. "Everyone has a funny way of showing it. Make Mr. Important sleep with the dogs and disown him for being a bastard. Brilliant."
Violet didn't know what to say. She sat in silence for a moment somewhat regretfully enjoying the massage. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, finally.
He looked up, startled by the question. "Doing what?"
"Why are you massaging me?" She looked at him, searching for something. She didn't know what to expect nor did she know what she wanted to hear.
Alistair slowly lowered her leg and gently raised the other. He caressed her calve with a pensive expression then shrugged his shoulders. "Why not?"
Violet shifted then leaned forward. She didn't know why she was getting irritated. "I'm a mage, Alistair. I'm an Elf. What am I? I'm something no one wants. Or, if I'm wanted, it's just to be used. Sure, I'm a Grey Warden, but why? To fight. That's my purpose in life. To serve. But, even so, my powers are feared. My race is hated. I'm expendable, aren't I?"
"You are a Grey Warden. Not just a Grey Warden, but one of the last of two in Ferelden, helping to end the blight. You and I are the only ones with the power to stop this. We are on a mission to build an army and defeat the archdemon. If we succeed at this horribly daunting task, the people of Ferelden will have no choice but to remember you as their hero. You are not expendable. We need you."
Violet's breathing evened. Alistair looked up at her. The fire vaguely lit her face. Her expression softened. "Why would they remember me when they can remember a prince? What is to stop them from creating tales of how Prince Alistair started as a Grey Warden and ended the blight? How he survived the massacre at Ostagar and built and led his own army?"
"It's just as impressive to hear of what you call a 'lowly elf-mage' raise to the ranks of hero of Ferelden." Alistair frowned. "And no one knows I'm a prince. No one needs to know."
She sighed. "Think about it Alistair. Who is supposed to take your brother's place when we defeat Loghain?"
He flinched. The revelation stung hard and fast.
"No doubt once the Arl awakens he will tell you the same." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. If he became king there would be no way for the two of them to be together. She hadn't thought of that consequence when Alistair initially confessed, but now it was blatantly obvious. Alistair's face was shadowed, so she couldn't tell that he grew pale.
"You are important," she continued. "You shouldn't be on your knees. I should be the one kneeling. That is my place."
He sighed heavily and his nose flared. "No. Your place is to stand proud, beside me, as our leader." He took both her hands, held them tightly, and looked into her eyes. "And I will follow you until the end."
Violet gave another sad smile. "What if I make a wrong choice and doom us all?"
Alistair chuckled. "Then Maker preserve us."
They sniggered. Violet gazed at their hands. She didn't want to let go, but she still held her doubts about the whole situation. Would it be better to seek nothing more than a brotherly connection? It would certainly make things a lot easier for them in the end.
Love; it was a weakness. Cullen's image quickly ran across her mind again. Regretfully, Morrigan's philosophy on love was starting to grow on her. Was it better not to have connections?
"Alistair," she said his name slowly.
"Yes?" he said cheerfully, but quickly dropped when he saw Violet's sad expression. "What's wrong?"
She looked down at their hands again and squeezed them. "I am grateful for your promise to protect me and as a partner I expect to reciprocate that." She looked up and saw he was watching her closely.
"Of course," he said.
"I hope to be a good partner." She said the next phrase slowly, "You have been a great friend and deserve no less. You are, and always have been, my best friend, Alistair."
She tried to be careful with her words. Violet knew it was unwise to lead him on if there really was no chance to be together and she didn't want their fraternization to jeopardize their mission. If she was to be the leader he described, that's what needed to be done. Though it would have been better to simply tell him they could only be friends, she couldn't bring herself to say it. This was as close as she could get and hoped he would get the hint.
Fairytale endings were for fairytales. She should have been grateful to have seen him again let alone be his comrade.
Alistair's brows creased and he looked at her sternly. He let out a small sigh before replying, "So are you."
It was then Alistair finally stood back up, let go of her hands, and slowly made his way back to the fire. Violet's heart wretched as she looked back at him. Her eyes started to water. I guess he got the hint.
She scoffed quietly to herself and stubbornly rubbed the tears from her eyes.
How ironic, she thought. By admitting he is my best friend, did I just lose him?