Legacy

Author's Note: I really, really cannot stay away from this story. Every time I tell myself that I need to write a chapter for Take Me, I end up sitting down and thinking up what will happen next in this. Haha, sorry Take Me fans. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, but I do own Beka~

Warning: Again – it's Dragon Age. Beware.

xxx

Was a long and dark December
When the banks became cathedrals
And the fog
Became God

Priests clutched onto bibles
Hollowed out to fit their rifles
And the cross was held aloft

Violet Hill, Chapter Four

As they grew closer to the village of Redcliffe, the more eager Beka became. Thoughts of a hot bath and a soft bed filled her head, and it got to the point where she was nearly skipping down the road. If the others noticed, they didn't comment. Her excitement was contagious, for soon Leliana had launched into a tale about a young woman and her dog (and after overhearing Leliana talking to the Mabari hound that one night at camp, Beka was certain she knew who this story was about) and their adventures.

She couldn't help but be a little impatient when Alistair bid her to stop, motioning for the others to continue. "I…need to tell you something, before we get to the village." He looked nervous.

"What's on your mind?" Beka shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Hot bath, hot bath…

"Remember how I said Arl Eamon raised me?"

"Yes." Beka frowned, wondering where this was going. When they had been exchanging life stories on the way to Lothering, Alistair had told her that his mother had died giving birth to him, and that Eamon that taken care of him until he had been packed up and sent away to train as a templar.

Hot bath, hot bath!

"I'm a bastard! My mother was a servant and my father was the king!"

Hot bath, hot ba – wait, what? Beka's eyebrow rose and silently urged him to continue.

"My father was King Maric. There, I said it! I just thought this would come up and now that you know, we can go." Alistair turned to leave, his face twisted into a grimace. Beka stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"Wait, Alistair – please. Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Her voice was gentle, but really Beka was a bit upset. Hadn't he trusted her enough to tell her this? Granted, they had only known each other for a couple of week. But still…

He licked his lips and, as if unsure, said slowly, "I didn't want you to know."

Oh. Her shoulders slumped. For some reason, that statement hurt worse than him not telling her in the first place, and more than it sure have. It's not like I made an effort to be somebody he could trust, Beka realized. I spend more time grumbling over my own problems than worrying about them.

"I mean, most people treat me differently when they find out, you know?" Alistair shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. Beka recognized the motions – he did it whenever he was nervous. "Duncan did – he kept me away from the battles, and so did King Cailan. It's so much easier to be just some commoner who happened to become a Grey Warden; less judgmental glances, less rumors. Loghain probably knows, but I expected that."

"I understand, Alistair," Beka shook her head. "You don't have to explain yourself. I guess I'm just not used to people not telling me things." Back home, secrets could end up getting you killed by the guards.

Alistair was all smiles again, and he extended his hand. "Whatever I know, you will know. How's that sound?"

Beka nodded, satisfied, and clasped his hand with a wide grin. "We've got a deal – expect the same from me."

The matter settled, Alistair hoisted his pack up higher on his shoulder and turned to face the rest of the group, who were waiting, if a little impatient, down the hill. "Are we ready to proceed?" Sten asked, uncrossing his arms. Beka apologized for making them wait and motioned them to walk on, and once again Beka found herself thinking about that hot bath.

A suddenly thought occurred to Beka then, when her eyes fell upon Alistair's back. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Does this mean you're the heir to the throne?"

Alistair cast a horrified glance over his shoulder. "Oh Maker, I hope not."

Leliana fell into step beside her as Beka giggled. The bard talked about the red clay and hills stained with blood, and Beka politely listened with a half-smile quirking up the corner of her mouth.

A hot bath, I'm getting a hot bath!

xxx

It turned out she wouldn't be getting that hot bath after all. A man from the village, who clutched at a strung bow so hard his knuckles were white, met them. He revealed to them that they hadn't heard from the castle in days, and the village itself had been attacked every night for the past couple of nights. They needed help. Tomas, as the man was later introduced, took them to meet with a man dressed in noble clothes – expensive and colorful, the kind of clothes Beka never would be able to afford. They were stained with mud, ripped, and slightly faded, and the sword at his side had probably seen it's fair share of action. Teagan, Alistair whispered to her, was Eamon's brother. Beka could only nod her thanks, for Teagan had went on to explain what was happening in more detail. Creatures, demons the undead, whatever they were, left the castle each night to attack the village. The people were scared – these were fishermen and farmers, and were unfit for battle.

Beka could sense Sten's impatience, Leliana's horror, and Morrigan's complete disregard, but it was Alistair who worried her. His face was blank, hard as stone, but his eyes swirled with emotion. She could see the worry in his pale blue eyes.

"It seems foolish to help them," Sten rumbled from somewhere behind her. Beka shrugged. "We have darkspawn to fight. We are wasting time."

"We have to get into the castle somehow, Sten. If these things are appearing from the castle, we might as well…" Beka said.

He agreed, if reluctantly.

Alistair was extremely grateful. This was his home after all, right?

Beka linked arms with him and called her hound to her side, leading the group out of the Chantry-turned-refuge, and out into the blinding sun.

She told Sten to go and convince Dwyn to help out, as per Murdock, the town's mayor, had suggested. She sent him off with instructions to not kill anybody, please and took Alistair and Morrigan with her to get the blacksmith's help while Leliana and the dog stayed in the Chantry.

Alistair wouldn't stop laughing. When Beka asked why, he told her that she had been grumbling under her breath about sexist town mayors for the last five minutes.

Beka pinched him.

xxx

She had never seen anything like them. They were easy enough to kill, but the brute force behind their attacks left her arm tingling and shoulder aching. Her dog was constantly at her side, snapping at anybody who came to close. Once or twice a heavy mace grazed her side, and one attack had managed to put a dent in the side of her armor.

Beka straightened to check on each of her party members. Leliana, who was so unused to wearing armor for long periods of time, hadn't thought about how tired she would get so quickly. But the bard was smiling widely and singing snippets of songs. Sten was swinging his burrowed long sword in wide arches, cutting down the creatures before they could even lift their maces. Morrigan fought several feet away, her fighting style more directed towards ranged attacks. She seemed unharmed. Alistair, who had practically thrown himself into the middle of the fray, was panting heavily, staggering under the weight of his shield. The creatures seemed to flock towards him, beating against his shield and trying to find a way through his defense. Beka called out to him, but he only smiled and turned to face an approaching corpse.

The militia from Redcliffe fell until there was only a couple left, and Beka was clueless as to what to do. Did she have the right to order these people to leave their stations and run for safety? She did have a right to order them around in the first place? When she had ordered the knights to stand their ground at the gate, she hadn't even thought about it. She knew that the village would fall if these creatures broke through. Ordering Ser Perth and his knights had been the most logical thing.

"Dawn is approaching." Morrigan had joined her, sensing her concern. She might have cared very little about the village's welfare, but Morrigan wasn't one to back down when challenged.

Beka pushed sweaty strands of hair out of her face. "But will they survive to see it?" She pointed her dagger to the remaining militiamen.

"I do not know," Morrigan sniffed.

In the end, only one survived, and Beka sheathed her sword, reaching out to lay her hand over one of the man's eyes. Alistair stood by her side, a familiar and comforting presence, and one that Beka greatly appreciated. Then she stood, wincing at the pain in her side, and watched as the sun poked up over the horizon and the people began to reappear from their hiding places.

xxx

Author's Note: Whelppppp, there you go. Redcliffe village. Personally I hate going to Redcliffe village, so I get it over and done with as soon as possible! I don't hate it as much as I do the mage's tower, which is next, and Orzammar. Orzammar, I detest thee!