Denerim rose on the horizon. They would reach it's gates the following day. They'd camped in a little hollow a short walk from the road. Ilaria was looking forward to a little time in the city. She knew their stay would be short, but the thought of a hot bath, a warm meal and a soft bed for a few nights in a row was appealing.
Zevran was everything he promised to be. He'd proved himself to be a capable fighter through a few skirmishes in the last few days. He was helpful both setting up and taking down camp and quick to comply with any request given to him. Ilaria wanted to trust him but couldn't ignore the unease she felt. She'd promised to take responsibility for his actions and knew she'd never forgive herself if she was wrong. Each night she cast a mild sleeping spell over the golden assassin before sleeping herself and then lifted it each morning. She kept a close eye on all his movements just as she'd promised Deylan. She spent a great deal of time talking to him while they traveled. She'd been to Antiva but it seemed like a different place through his eyes. Her desire to trust him was at war with her fear of the consequences of that trust.
Alistair had barely spoken to her at all since she'd spared Zevran's life. She assumed he was angry with her and had avoided him because of it. She found herself feeling morose at the thought that she damaged their friendship. She was all the more surprised when he dropped down beside her near the fire just before sunset.
"Hey," he said and smiled.
"Hello, Alistair." She returned his smile and hoped the thrill she felt with his presence wasn't obvious. There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again.
"Looks like we'll be in Denerim tomorrow."
"I certainly hope so," she responded emphatically, thinking of how nice it would be to be indoors.
Alistair chuckled. "I didn't know you were so fond of the city."
"It's not the city. It's the warm food and beds that I'm fond of." She gave him a teasing, conspiratorial look. "I'm not a big fan of the cold weather you have around here," she whispered as she looked around with mock severity.
"Well, I'm sure we'll be able to find a bed somewhere..."
She couldn't help giving him a suggestive look that made him backtrack, stumbling over his words.
"Alistair, I had no idea..."
"No, no, no... Uh... I mean, you'll have a bed... all to yourself. Not we... I mean, I'll have my own bed and you'll have your own bed and..."
Ilaria burst out laughing, unable to control herself any longer.
"I'm sorry, Alistair. I couldn't help myself." She gave him a crooked grin. "You're just too cute when you blush."
She trailed her delicate fingertips over his cheek making him turn an even deeper shade of red. She smiled, thoroughly amused. She'd joked with Anders like this often. The difference was in the response. Where Alistair would flush and stutter, Anders would come up with a smacking reply that would leave reeling. Thinking of Anders sent a wave of melancholy through her. She dropped her hand and turned her gaze to the fire not wanting Alistair to see it. She couldn't help but wonder about Anders. Was he okay? Had he tried escaping again? Did he miss her? And, with an unexpected swell of something like jealousy, who was he sleeping with now? She forced her features to smooth, unsure if Alistair was watching or not. She turned to look at him when he cleared his throat.
"So... um... I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"
Ilaria's interest peaked. Alistair had never asked her for help with anything before though he constantly offered his.
"I might consider it," she teased. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well... how much to you know about my parentage?"
"Well, you did tell me you were a bastard. I noticed you left out that you were a bastard prince though." She winked at him.
"Oh... so, you heard about that, huh?"
"Yeah. I don't think this group will have many secrets. Too many nights on the road without much to do but gossip." She smiled again. "But what does this have to do with your favor? Are we storming the castle?"
He chuckled. "Oh, yes. And then we'll spend the night in the larder raiding the cheese and fine wines. Anyway, so, my mother, she was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle and she had another child, a daughter, my older sister. I found out she's alive and living in Denerim and I was hoping to visit her while we were there."
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Alistair. I'm happy for you."
"Thanks. I was just wondering... if you don't mind that is... Would you come with me? It's fine if you don't want to. I know we don't know each other well..."
He was beginning to prattle so Ilaria interrupted. "I'd be happy to. But are you sure you wouldn't rather see her on your own?"
"Um, no. I'd think I'd really rather you came with me." He sighed heavily and looked off into the distance. "I guess I'm just a little nervous and you've always made me feel so comfortable. I was just hoping that if you came with me it might help me relax a little."
His sincere confession was touching and Ilaria reached out and put her and over his, gently gripping his fingers.
"If my being there will help you feel better, than I wouldn't let you go without me." She smiled up into his soft brown eyes and was rewarded by a happy smile as he twined his fingers in hers.
"Thanks," he said and seemed about to continue when Zevran's lilting voice interrupted.
"Ah, mia dolce, are you ready for some training?"
Ilaria had spent an hour each evening for the last several nights tumbling through the snow with Zevran in an attempt to improve her close combat skills. She knew she'd never be as skillful as the assassin but it was important that she be able to protect herself should anyone get close enough to inhibit her casting. On the previous nights, she'd looked forward to their sparing; tonight she wished she could just remain here by the fire, relaxed, and talking with Alistair. She slid her fingers from Alistair's grasp as she rose.
"Just let me gather my things," she said before turning back to look at Alistair. She gave him a wistful smile before walking off.
Alistair had been pleasantly surprised the next day as the group finished their walk into Denerim. Ilaria kept him company, peppering him with questions about his sister and what he knew about her. He found himself confessing more to her than he'd expected about his feelings and his desire to have a family. She'd been warm and understanding and had even briefly spoken about her father. He quickly found himself alternately relaxed and flustered when she teased him. Her attention, even through teasing, left him feeling unusually content.
He slept well that first night in a bed but woke to a stomach full of knots knowing that the time was rapidly approaching that he might meet his sister. He quickly washed and dressed before heading to the main room of the Silver Vixen, the cozy little inn they'd rented rooms at near the edge of Denerim. Deylan, Ilaria and the others were already in quiet conversation at a large table in the corner heaped with breakfast: eggs, ham, pastries, fresh bread, hot coffee, and baked apples.
"No, it's nothing serious," he heard Ilaria explain as he approached. "I just have a few items I'd like to pick up in the market. I can do that while you trying hunting down this Brother Genitivi. It'll save us some time."
"Alright," Deylan responded as Alistair sat down. "But you should take someone with you."
A part of Alistair's brain knew that this was the moment he was supposed to chip in and say he'd go but the knots in his stomach were making it hard to concentrate. He finally realized his missed opportunity when Ilaria spoke for him.
"Alistair mentioned he was familiar with Denerim. I thought he could take me into the market and then we could meet you back here this evening." Her quick even response surprised him. It didn't even sound rehearsed. She'd somehow known without his saying so that he'd prefer to keep this visit to his sisters quiet.
"Uh, yeah, I'd be happy to show her around. We can meet back here tonight."
Deylan eyed the two of them carefully. It was obvious he knew there was something he wasn't being told and now he was just deciding whether or not it was important enough to worry about. He must have decided their trip to the market was innocent enough.
"Very well. Just, please, be sure to meet back here by dark."
Ilaria popped right up out of her seat and planted a quick kiss on Deylan's cheek. Alistair shoved some sort of pastry into his mouth and grabbed another and followed Ilaria up the stairs to grab their heavy cloaks for the walk to the market and Goldanna.
Alistair sensed the tension coming off of Ilaria almost as soon as Goldanna opened her mouth and it was steadily increasing. It was when this bitter woman who was supposed to be his sister called the petite red-head by his side a tart and implied that she was chasing him for gold that he began to sense magic rippling through her. He glanced down to see her jaw clenched and a spark darting between her fingers.
"Alistair, I think we should leave," Ilaria said through clenched teeth.
"I agree," he responded sullenly. "Let's go."
The weight in the pit of his stomach grew as he followed Ilaria out the rough wooden door. Family wasn't supposed to be like this. Family was supposed to be accepting and loving... a home. The mixture of disappointment and anger tuned out the rest of the world and it took him a moment to realize Ilaria was speaking to him.
"Alistair... Alistair?"
His eyes finally met hers. The intense color of her eyes in the sunlight struck him and for a moment he was lost in a very different emotion.
"Alistair? Are you alright?" Her cold fingers against his cheek pulled him out of the swell of emotions threatening to overcome him.
"What? I'm sorry. I was just... thinking." He place his hand over hers for a second before gripping her fingers lightly and pulling them away from his face.
"Are you alright?" she repeated.
"I'm fine. I just..." he sighed heavily. "I can't believe this is the sister I've been wanting to meet. I thought family was supposed to accept you... no matter what. Now I just... I feel like an idiot."
He let go of her hand and began to turn away. He could feel the sting of unshed tears in his eyes and he did not want her to see him cry. He stopped as her hand gripped his arm and she pulled him around to face her. She reached up with both hands and, placing them on his cheeks, she forced him to look in her eyes.
"Alistair, you are not an idiot. You are one of the kindest, most accepting men I know and that woman in there is a fool to not give you the chance to show her who you really are." She lowered her hands but maintained eye contact. "There are some truly terrible people in this world. You can't just let everyone walk all over you. If you're going to find any happiness in your life, at some point you're going to have to stop and ask yourself what you want and then decide if it's worth fighting for. And if it is, never give up."
They stood there in silence for several moments sharing an unspoken bond building upon respect and empathy. It didn't occur to Alistair to break their gaze until he noticed that the snow had begun to fall. Fluffy white flakes were beginning to stick to Ilaria's hair and eyelashes. Her cheeks were red with the cold and he thought of how cold her fingers had felt against his cheeks. He grinned at her and grabbed her hand, pulling it through his arm.
"Come on. You're freezing and the Gnawed Noble has got some fantastic spiced cider this time of year. Let's get you warmed up."
She smiled at him as he led her toward the tavern. Even with all the disappointment he was feeling over Goldanna's reaction to him, having Ilaria next to him, gently leaning against him for warmth, made him feel peaceful and happy and, for a moment, he hoped the day would never end.