A/N: Wow… I've really slacked off lately, eh? Oops.
"It's such a shame you cannot stay any longer," the young woman cooed into Zevran's ear, her tiny hands clasped onto his forearm. Alistair fidgeted noticeably, attempting to keep his face stoic. Don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes… he repeated mentally. Zevran's smooth laugh and gentle patting made the woman unlatch from him.
"A shame, maybe. But there is no shame for how we spent our time here, yes? I will return, my dear lady." His accent seemed to be what wooed them, Alistair noted, too edgy to think about anything but the now.
Denerim was next. Denerim… the place he lost everything, where he was exiled, all of it. For now, Alistair focused on the way Zevran picked up woman as a distraction. "Really? Do you promise?"
It was nearly sickening. "Of course, my dear. I promise I will return." One cat-like smile and he was on his horse. As smoothly as physically possible. A little less graceful mount and Alistair too was on a horse.
"Goodbye, Zevran…" Her girlish giggle was all that Alistair focused on as Zevran led them from the stables. A small snort left him at the irony. He lived here for years when all he wanted was to be someone. Now, when he was someone, all he wanted to do was to curl up in the hay loft and hide from the big mean world. Oh, how people change.
The two paraded themselves through the village, taking the scenic route up to the bridge, where the knights – including Ser Perth – were waiting with the family. A brief goodbye and a promise to visit and they were off.
The three day visit felt more like a week-long visit into his past. His past before her. He caught up with Eamon about Ferelden, while the questions about his whereabouts were notably ignored, which he had to admit was nice. The Arl was accommodating, providing both information and entertainment.
Apparently, since his departure and the end of the Blight the darkspawn had set up a new goal. One that Eamon knew only little about, from Emily. They had divided into two factions that were at war. Like the born hero she was meant to be, Emily slaughtered them in countless numbers and something happened and now everything was fine. Though, darkspawn were still threatening the area's and the Warden's needed to be ever vigilant.
As the days flew by and Denerim approached steadily on the horizon, Alistair began to wonder about the illness Emily was suffering. Though, he couldn't out and say that. No, that'd be too easy, and be much too complacent.
So, one evening while eating the lamb stew Zevran had prepared – he was a very good cook, but still Alistair watched everything – he questioned the Elf. "So… tell me more of what has happened with the Wardens."
He ignored the small, almost unnoticeable grin on the Assassin's face, "Well, after the Blight ended there was a ceremony, a funeral for Loghain. After that, Wynne, Shale and Sten left on a boat, the Qunari back to home and the women left for Tevinter. Me, the Warden, Leliana and Max left for Highever that evening, after the party in her honor. Morrigan had left on the night before the battle after harsh words she and the Warden shared. Oh, we accompanied Fergus back to Highever too. When we got there we spent time helping rebuild and reconstruct, then Leliana left back to Orlais."
Zevran paused for a long moment, as if trying to recall the order of things. "After the bard left, we continued to help her brother, until a missive from the First Warden came, announcing her as the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. A lovely young woman, much younger than the Warden and so much more innocent came to collect her and bring her to Vigil's Keep – where we are headed – to meet the Orlesian Warden's stationed here. I stayed in Highever for a while longer.
"But, as I was told when she arrived there was no welcoming party, and the Keep was being attacked by darkspawn, she quickly dispatched them, finding an apostate mage – that Ander's man – and Oghren in the Keep. There was a talking darkspawn that they killed. Right as that happened the Queen appeared at the Vigil's gates. They spoke to her briefly, conscripted the mage and then did the "Joining"." The Elf smiled at Alistair, a little reassuring smile.
"All but the woman survived, so I'm told. Later that evening while the other two were resting she conscripted the Howe, who has turned out to be quite loyal, now that things are set straight in his mind. Hah, it's nearly funny to think about. Apparently at one point he tried to sneak into her room to kill her," Alistair felt his muscles tighten in anger. Zevran was almost as good a story teller as Leliana, "instead, he found her nude on top of her blankets, dead asleep. From what Oghren tells me it was quite the interesting night. I believe he said, ahem," he took on a deeper voice, mocking Oghren's gruffy tone, "'The sodding nug-humper came back into the common room, his face more red than the fire, his armor looking a tad too tight on him too. Har har.' Those were his words not mine.
"It wasn't long after when I arrived, you already know how that one went. Weeks passed and Leliana returned. During our stay at the Keep the Warden was taken by this "Architect", one of the talking darkspawn who had ordered the attack on the Keep. When she returned, she returned with an Orlesian rogue, Warden Russell Tucker. Quite the fellow he is, tall man, dark hair, bright green eyes, and," Zevran seemed reluctant to say it, "Nearly better than I with women."
Alistair laughed at that. A loud, belly laugh that left him gasping. Left him stunned he had laughed that hard. But man did it feel good! He felt as his a small weight resting on his chest was lifted, even through the prospect of an other man constantly around Emily should worry him, he felt… good. The humor in it was not lost on him.
"We ought to sleep now, Zev. We've got a long ride tomorrow; perhaps you will indulge me again tomorrow night." With that, he crawled into his tent, where he slept well for one night.
Morning came, and morning went. As did the nights, as well. A week and a half passed and they were at the Gates of Denerim, the same gates he'd cursed at, and sworn he'd never seen again. A wave of emotion rained down on his body, now more full than when Zevran found him, clean-shaven and tidy. Even his armor was pristine. The splintmail was like a second skin on him. Heavy enough for defense yet light enough for movement.
The gates were currently open, and he and Zevran joined the crowd of people rushing into the city to set up their shops, it was sun-up. Men, women, carts, and horses were a never ending stream into the city. Simply following their current led them to the Market district, where they grabbed a fresh fruit for something to eat while they slowly rode towards the castle.
They were meeting Queen Anora officially, so it was to be held in the Landsmeet chamber. As they grew closer, the invisible hand on his insides tightened. He closed his eyes as his horse instinctively followed Zevran's.
She stood over the older man, his sword down, arm's raised. "I surrender, I surrender. You… you are indeed powerful. I have… underestimated you."
"Yes, yes you have," She whispered, Alistair was close enough to hear her, as was the man kneeling before her. His eyes locked with hers and they seemed to be conversing without speaking.
Anora's voice shrieked from the side of the chamber, "Do not kill him Warden! I beg of you, his crimes have been many, yes, but he does not need to die—"
Riordan spoke next, "It does not have to be this way."
"What..?"
"Allow Loghain to join the Warden's, we are too few as it is…" His voice drifted off, as if slightly uncertain of this himself.
"No! Absolutely not!" he shouted, causing Emily to jump a little. "This… this man killed our King, he killed Duncan! I will not be his brother!"
Emily was chewing her lip then, a nervous habit she had, her fingers fiddling with the plate of her armor. "I… I…" She seemed stuck between a rock and a hard place. Her face turned, her helm lay on the ground, forgotten, her eyes as white as hot embers, tinged blue with sadness as she stared into Alistair's face. Her expression begging him to listen. Only his face twisted in disgust.
"You…" He couldn't speak, he could barely hear her speak over the pounding of blood in his ears.
"For Loghain's crimes he is to be conscripted into the Grey Warden's, to become what he very nearly destroyed. He will server under me, he will not be our General." Alistair noticed her pointed stare at Anora, had they spoken of this already? Rage ran through his body.
"No! No! I refuse to be his brother! If he is to become a Grey Warden, I will no longer be one!"
"Alistair, please…" Now, reliving the memory, he was almost compelled to listen.
"No!" His yelled, his voice echoing throughout the hall. "Make your decision Emily, it's me, or him. I cannot be the brother of the man who killed Duncan."
"Alistair, please listen, I have a—"
"A plan? Fuck your plans, Emily. So much for it all, was everything we had a plan too? Goodbye, Emily." With that, the man turned, and then the voice of the harpy sung.
"If you leave now, you renounce the throne," Anora nearly sung.
"Take it, take the fucking throne, you won't see me again, ever. I renounce my claim on it and I will leave Ferelden, tonight."
Alistair turned, only enough to see Riordan and Emily. He stood tall, almost proud of his actions, while tears leaked from her eyes. She was a strong woman, she almost never cried, he noted now. He had made her cry. that moment was soon erased by alcohol though, a good enough solution for him.
With the memories came the guilt. With the reawakening from his nightmare came the sight of the cause. Before him was the Palace. It was a large expanse of stone, fashioned to be strong under the harsh weather of Ferelden winters, green grass and fresh flowers came from the Garden's to either side of the courtyard they were trotting up to.
And then, from the grand entrance came the Queen and her entourage, with a flourish. Anora, Queen Anora hadn't changed, her skin was taunt still, hair tied too tightly and, her face painted to try to look naturally beautiful. A snake's smile twisted her face. "Greetings Zevran Arainai, and greetings to you as well, Warden Alistair Theirin."