The Awakening

A Dragon Age Fanfiction

By Bionca Femme

Chapter 4:

Morning found Alistair hurriedly pulling on his clothes and scrambling downstairs for a breakfast that he knew he was terribly late for. Zevran looked up at him with some surprise on his face when he barreled into the room with his hair a mess and his tunic half tucked into his trousers. Ignoring the elf he ladled out a bowl of porridge from the cauldron on the sidebar for himself and took a seat next to his Assassin friend. He could feel the elf's eyes burrowing holes into the top of his head as he tucked into his meal.

"Alistair?" Zevran inquired after a moment.

"Zev?" Alistair replied through his mouthful of mush, only just managing not to get it everywhere.

His reply was met with an expectant silence and Alistair raised his eyes and was confronted with the dreaded raised eyebrow of his friend. Alistair sighed heavily and took a drink of the tea he poured himself before sitting down. "Nothing happened," he said finally.

"I find that hard to believe with the smoldering looks the two of you were exchanging all through dinner. What did happen, precisely?" Zevran folded his hands under his chin and gazed at Alistair raptly, the way a child would when being told a particularly exciting fairytale.

"You aren't going to let me eat my porridge until I tell you everything, are you?" Alistair's eyes narrowed.

"Let me think," Zevran tapped his chin and made a show of thinking. "No...no, I think not."

"Alright, if it'll make you happy," the ex-templar huffed. "So she invited me there to be a shoulder to cry on, and she cried and told me of her past and how she came to be with the Grey Wardens. You know...normal stuff."

"Alistair, nothing that a Grey Warden does is normal. Honestly, I would have thought you'd caught onto that by now."

"What can I say? I'm a slow learner," Alistair grunted and then shoved another spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

"So you at least got to feel her in your arms then, yes?" the elf pressed.

Alistair could feel his face heat up. "Yes," he mumbled.

"So, what was she like? Is she a battle-hardened woman, with muscles that ripple and flex beneath her armor? Or is she soft and warm like an Antivan flower?" Zevran needled.

Alistair went all dreamy eyed, "Softer than she looks...and she smelled unbelievable. Like hyacinth and honey." He was swept up into his own fantasies a bit before a cleared throat brought him crashing back to reality.

"So are you going to woo her?" the Antivan asked with a grin.

"Woo her?" Alistair blinked at him stupidly for a moment. "Wait...what?"

"You know, dinner...dancing, making love to each other beneath the stars?" Zevran rolled his eyes. "Wooing. The art of endearing oneself to his or her intended for the purpose of a relationship... or just relations...whichever you prefer."

"I know what wooing is!" Alistair glared at him indignantly. "I just don't think that it would be appropriate for me to pursue my superior. And I wouldn't just want 'relations' with her either, she deserves more than that."

Zevran studied him for a bit. "No, I don't think that is it at all. I think you're scared to open up to her."

"And you say that 'cause you know me so well," Alistair sneered and then immediately regretted it. "Look, I'm...sorry. It's just that I'm not ready for...wooing."

"What is not to be ready for? What else do you have in your life besides dark spawn?" Zevran pointed out.

"I don't want things to be...well, awkward."

"Awkward is your middle name my friend," Zevran chuckled.

"My middle name happens to be Frederick, actually," Alistair replied.

"Truly?" Zevran asked with some surprise.

"No," Alistair deadpanned and then heaved himself up from the table. "Where is she anyway?"

"She is in the throne-room with the Senechal. They're going over some business," Zevran dropped him a wink before Alistair turned away completely.

Alistair snorted in response and deposited his dishes in the basin by the door before he left the mess hall. He would have gone the opposite way of the throne-room if he had his way. But yesterday proved that she would not simply let him be. So rather than wait for her to find him, he would try to at least make himself useful to her by trying to alleviate some of the burden that had been thrust upon her shoulders. As the only other Grey Warden on hand, that duty fell to him.

He entered the throne-room and his quarry was indeed where Zevran told him she would be. She was standing before Varel and two other people he didn't recognize. She seemed so tiny in comparison and yet still larger than life. If ever there was a question why she was chosen by the First Warden to take over the Arling, this was the answer. Whether it be one person in the room or twenty, all eyes were on her. Her stance told of hidden strength, her warm voice naturally set people at ease, her smile was positively infectious, her determined expressions doubly so. And when Varel explained who the prisoner below the dungeons was, her answering growl in response caused the Senechal to step back a pace.

"You mean to tell me that you've had him down there since a week before my arrival and you're only now informing me?" Alistair, who was leaning in a doorway, couldn't see her face but he could imagine her furious expression. He winced, he'd seen it on women before and he was not about to step in and be on the receiving end of that.

"My Lady Sidona," Varel held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Please try to understand that we're short on men and it took four Wardens to capture him. Gustav said that you might think he'd make a good candidate for the Wardens, so we left him," he tried to explain.

"You left that man in our dungeons for two weeks without informing me!" she threw her hands up into the air. "What if the dark spawn had gotten a hold of him? It may be the law to execute him, but I will not be a party to negligence and cruelty, Varel!"

Varel looked suitably ashamed of himself by the time her tirade was over. Just when Alistair seemed to think the argument was through the blond haired man to Varel's left spoke up. "In Varel's defense it was a terribly Orlesian thing to do."

There was silence in the hall and Alistair thought that Sidona would explode on the spot, leaving nothing but a blackened soot-stain where she stood. Instead she squared her shoulders and looked the man right in the eye. "Whatever problems you may have with Orlais, Sir, are your own business. I am Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens and your Arlessa. I am Orlesian no longer, Ferelden is now my home. It is not the policy of the Grey Wardens, Orlesian or otherwise, to condone needless cruelty to prisoners, and neither is it mine. You would do well to remember that before you speak out of turn."

Alistair felt a sudden compulsion to grab the man and pummel him. Rather than make a spectacle of himself in front of Sidona, however, he settled for coming to her rescue instead. "Commander, there you are!" he said, sounding as if he'd been looking all over for her. "I've been trying to track you down all morning," he affected a slight pout meant to convey that he thought she was avoiding him. "Didn't you say that you needed me to help you with Varel's long list of obligations today?"

Sidona turned and regarded him with relief on her face and a smile that was warm and grateful for his presence. He felt a twinge of guilt for having stood there while the yet to be named man tried to stomp all over her authority. "Alistair," she reached for his arm when he offered it to her and she clasped like a lifeline. "The Senechal has a prisoner for us to look at. I believe his name is Nathaniel Howe."

Alistair nodded. "Rendon Howe's son."

"Just so," replied the Commander. "I understand that The Hero of Ferelden killed the previous Arl after finding out he kidnapped Queen Anora and tortured several nobles, yes?"

"That's right. He was a terrible man, that's for certain. I wonder what his son is like," he mused.

"You're welcome to come with me to sate your curiosity," she inclined her head towards the door indicating that she'd like to leave the throne-room.

"As you wish my lady," he offered a curt nod to Varel and the pinched-faced woman by his side. He favored the other man with a warning glare

"Thank you for your time, Varel, Garavel, Mistress Woolsey," she nodded to each as she said their name and then let Alistair lead her out of the throne-room and into the corridor.

Once there Sidona let go of his arm and took a step away from him. "Thank you for coming to my rescue Alistair," she gave him a smile and started to walk off down the hall.

"Wait, I thought we were going together?" Alistair's lengthy stride caught him up with her and she stopped in her tracks.

"After last night I...well it seemed that you would not appreciate my company so soon," she fidgeted with her fingers nervously and avoided looking up into his face.

Alistair sighed heavily. In his head he knew that explaining himself was a bad idea and letting her think that she had offended him could only help him stay away from her. But his heart swatted the notion aside like a gnat and instead decided the truth was in order. "My leaving last night had little to do with you and more to do with..." he trailed off and then rubbed a hand over his face. "Lyna was the only one besides Duncan that I've ever really talked to about my past. I lost both of them. I just...people I confide in and care for tend to...die, or leave, or send me away. I'd rather that not happen again."

Sidona finally tilted her head up to look at him. "But Zevran is your friend, have you not told him of your past?"

"No," Alistair replied with a grimace. "Its not really the same."

"I don't understand," Sidona's expression turned puzzled.

"Duncan was like a Father to me, and Lyna was like a sister. Zevran is a good friend, but...we're not as close as that," Alistair was growing uncomfortable with the way this conversation was progressing.

"So, I would have to become like a sister to you?" she asked.

"No!" Alistair blurted out and his face reddened. "I mean...it's just...blast!" he crossed his arms. "I just don't see you as someone I could think of as a sister."

"Oh," Sidona said sadly. "I see."

"No," Alistair growled. "No, you don't. Please don't get upset or offended, but...last night I had to stop myself from behaving...well, really inappropriately."

"Oh," Sidona replied thoughtfully, and then her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Maker!" he covered his face to hide his embarrassment. "This is way more complicated than I intended for it to get! I am sorry, Commander."

"Alistair," she said softly. "It's alright."

"No, it's not," Alistair said. "You're my superior. Really, its ok. I won't mention it again if you won't."

She shook her head. "Alistair, there is no Grey Warden rule against seeing your superior."

"There...there isn't?" he moved his fingers apart and peered through them at her cautiously. "Oh."

She laughed then and his stomach did somersaults. "No there isn't. Otherwise I would never have invited you up to my rooms last night."

His hands fell away from his face. "I...you...what?" he asked in confusion.

"I'll just let you think on that for awhile, shall I?" she smiled up at him and then she pushed herself upwards onto the tips of her toes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "I will see you later, mon cher."

She gave him one last dazzling smile before she disappeared down the corridor, leaving Alistair still staring after her with astonishment.

It took several minutes for Alistair to collect his wits after Sidona left him in the hallway. He thanked the Maker silently that no one had happened upon him standing there gaping like a fish out of water as he tried to reconcile what just happened with what he previously perceived as the reality of the situation. 'How can one woman single-handedly upend my life with but a few words and a kiss on the cheek?' he thought to himself before he took off in the direction she'd left in. He fully intended to not let her get away with just making statements like that, kissing him and running off. "That little minx!" he growled.

A short while later he entered the courtyard to find Anders sitting at the foot of the statue of Andraste and making babytalk to a bundle of orange fur in his lap. He stopped just sort of the Mage and cleared his throat. When Anders looked up Alistair crossed his arms. "Anders, please tell me you have a good reason for sitting at the foot of the Maker's bride and making coochie-coo noises at your nether regions."

"I'm not!" Anders responded with an indignant glare. "The Commander gave me a kitten she found just a moment ago," he turned his attention back to the kitten. "Isn't that right Ser Pounce-a-lot?"

The orange ball issued a soft "mew" in reply and stretched out its tiny kitten body before curling up tightly and going to sleep.

Alistair opened his mouth to comment when a shout from one of the ramparts interrupted him. "Travelers on the road!"

Alistair turned around to see who it was entering through the gates and immediately regretted it. There stood Anora, Queen of Ferelden in all her bitchy glory. Alistair groaned and then his eyes settled on the contingent of Templars behind her and he turned to Anders hastily. "I think they're here for you," he said.

Anders face drained of color. "They're going to execute me!"

"How many times did you escape from the Circle again?" Alistair asked thoughtfully.

"Seven," replied Anders weakly.

"Holy Maker!" Alistair's eyes widened in astonishment. "Well, they certainly won't be throwing you a tea party," he looked around for the Warden-Commander and found that she was nowhere in sight. "Come on, lets get down to the dungeon where Sidona probably is and we'll fix this. You may be an apostate but I don't think you necessarily deserve to die."

"Oh, thanks," Anders chuckled weakly and followed the ex-templar through the door to the dungeons as quickly as he could, to avoid being spotted by the Templars.

Once they reached the dungeons they found Sidona standing before the cell talking to the prisoner. "You're not making a very convincing case for yourself," she said to the dark haired fellow Alistair assumed was Nathaniel Howe.

"I could lie, if you prefer," Nathaniel folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. "Look, I know your order saved us from the blight, to the victor goes the spoils, right?"

"What will you do if I just let you go?" she asked warily.

The question not only startled Alistair but the prisoner as well. Nathaniel scoffed at first and then scowled. "If you let me go, I'll just come back here. You might not catch me next time."

"You don't wish to redeem your family's honor?" she pressed.

"Oh certainly! I'll just go join Queen Anora's service right now. She'll surely want a Howe as a soldier," he bit out sarcastically.

Just then Sidona heard Alistair and Anders approach. She turned and smiled affectionately at Alistair and then regarded Anders with a friendly nod. "I see that Ser Pounce-a-lot has warmed up to you quickly."

Anders smiled sadly. "Yes, although it looks as though I'll have to leave him with you, after all."

Sidona's face turned worried. "What? Why? Are you leaving?"

"The Queen has shown up with some Templars. Though I am sure that Anora is here to see you, I don't think the Templars are here simply to say hello," Alistair commented dryly.

Sidona groaned. "Maker preserve us! Why is everything more complicated than it needs to be!" she turned a glare on Nathaniel. "I've decided what to do with you."

Nathaniel sighed heavily. "Good, finally I can stop waiting to die."

"You may yet have your chance," she smiled smugly. "Nathaniel Howe, I hereby conscript you into the Grey Wardens. The Maker have mercy on your soul."

"You can't do that!" he growled angrily.

"Oh, she very much can. I think its fitting, considering how much you and your father hate Grey Wardens," Alistair replied. He turned to Sidona and his voice and face softened. "What do you want to do about the Mage?"

"I have a name you know!" Anders muttered.

Sidona warred with her indecision for awhile. "He helped us, and he's not too terribly annoying. Do you not agree?" she asked. Her eyes conveyed her intent and he smiled.

"You want to conscript him too?" Alistair tilted his head. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said firmly.

Alistair turned his gaze on Anders. "As long as he knows that escaping from the Wardens is not an option, then I don't think I have a problem with it. Its not as if he's a blood mage."

"Anders?" Sidona's dark eyes settled on Anders awaiting his response.

"We get to travel a lot, right?" Anders asked hopefully.

"Too much," Alistair snorted.

"And I'll get to keep my cat?" he asked Sidona.

Sidona smiled. "Of course, when we're away he can stay at the Keep."

"Well, I guess that will work," Anders grinned happily.

Sidona's smile turned into a grin. "Wonderful, now...let us go up and upset some Templars, shall we?"

Anders grinned back evilly. "Oh, this I've got to see!"

Alistair had to agree. It was turning out to be quite the eventful day. "What about...you know...him?" He jerked his head in Nathaniel's direction.

Sidona eyed Nathaniel, "We'll deal with him after we get rid of the Templars, yes?"

Alistair and Anders agreed and they followed her as she made her way back up to the courtyard. Sidona made a beeline directly before Anora and sunk to one knee. Alistair, much to his discomfort followed suit along with Anders. Despite his dislike of the woman it wouldn't do to embarrass Sidona by acting like a child and sulking.

"My Queen," Sidona bowed her head from her kneeling position.

"You may rise," Anora's tone was pleased. "I see that the dark spawn have given you quite the welcome party. I'm sorry that I could not get here with my men in time to be of service."

Alistair bit back a retort. He knew damn well that she most likely waited until it was clear before coming to welcome the Wardens. She wouldn't put herself at risk that way.

"We are humbled that you thought to come and welcome us personally, Highness," Sidona replied when she was finally back on her feet. Anders and Alistair rose after she did and stood just behind her in a silent show of support.

Anora's eyes left the Commander and met those of her deceased husband's half-brother. "Alistair, it is a ...pleasant surprise to see you here. I thought you were traveling to Highever to put up a memorial for Duncan."

Alistair only just barely managed not to snarl at the woman for using Duncan's name. "Duty called me elsewhere, your Majesty."

Satisfied with that answer she turned her attention back to Sidona. "This is Knight-Commander Rylock," she gestured gracefully to the Templar woman at her side, who bowed to Sidona. "The Chantry has sent her to collect an apostate lurking in your midst."

"Apostate?" Sidona made a show of looking very surprised. "My Queen, there are no apostates here. The only Mage I have is a recruit I rescued from dark spawn. Poor boy," her smooth voice dripped with empathy, she gestured towards Anders with a pout on her lips. Anders quickly caught on and adopted a bedraggled posture. "The dark spawn ripped apart his Templar friends before his very eyes! He was so distraught that he killed quite a few of the monsters in retaliation. I can't begin to tell you how impressed I was with him. Without his help I don't think the Vigil would be standing right now!"

"This is an outrage!" the Templar Commander sputtered. "He couldn't have, Anders cares only for himself and I'm certain that he murdered those men in cold blood and used the dark spawn attack to cover his crimes! I will see you hanged for what you've done here!" she pointed a bony finger at Anders.

"Hanged?" Sidona clucked her tongue at the woman. "I do apologize, Commander Rylock. But that will be quite impossible, I'm afraid. I conscripted him only just this morning. If only you'd shown up yesterday..." the Warden Commander said with mock sympathy.

A snicker escaped from Alistair before he could contain it. He covered it well enough by feigning a coughing fit but he knew by the glare he was receiving from Anora that no one was fooled.

"You can't do this-," the Templar woman started to say only to be cut off by Anora who looked bored and a bit perturbed by how the conversation was going.

Sidona turned to Alistair with a puzzled expression. "Why does everyone tell me that?"

Alistair bit his tongue and offered her a shrug in reply.

"I believe that the Grey Wardens still retain the right of conscription. A privilege that I will allow, as my husband would have wanted," Anora firmly stated, ignoring the exchange between Sidona and Alistair..

The Knight-Commander's mouth which had been hanging open in shocked outrage shut with an audible snap. "If...it is your Majesty's wish," she said and then turned on her heel and returned to the rows of Templars that silently awaited her behind the Queen.

Anora let out a long suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I do apologize," she said. "That woman has been bothering me about your Mage for days. Honestly, I am glad that you've conscripted him," her large blue eyes drifted to Anders and her cheeks flushed when Anders regarded her appreciatively.

Alistair shook his head and watched as Anora conversed with Sidona for a few moments. By the end of the conversation he was amazed by how skilled the Warden Commander was at dealing with the Queen. Both women danced the dance of the nobility with skill and ease. With smiles that did not reach their eyes and carefully worded pleasantries that held more implications than their outward meaning conveyed. By the time it was over Anora had confessed to having some trouble with the Bannorn and that all her resources were needed there for the moment. She did promise to send some Denerim soldiers as soon as the unrest was dealt with. But until then, they were on their own. Sidona thanked her graciously and then just as abruptly as she arrived, the Queen of Ferelden left their presence, taking the Templars with her.

Only when she was out of sight did the two Wardens and their recruit let out a sigh of relief. Sidona turned to the two men with a scowl. "That could have gone better."

Alistair's eyebrows shot up. "I don't think it could have gone any better than that. Anora doesn't play well with others."

"I could tell," she commented and then her gaze settled on Anders. "It seemed as though she was quite taken with you, however, Anders."

Anders straightened with a smug expression. "I am irresistible, I will admit."

Alistair rolled his eyes. "More like incorrigible."

"Whatever the reason, she finds you attractive, that much was clear. Eventually, if your amenable to travel, I think I'd like you to go to the Grey Warden compound in Denerim. I have a feeling that we'll need eyes and ears there before long," she said thoughtfully.

Anders inclined his head. "As you wish, Commander."

'If he survives the joining.' Alistair thought to himself. He saw the expression on Sidona's face and knew that she was thinking the same thing.

She sighed heavily and then turned to Alistair with a grim expression. "Lets go retrieve Nathaniel and get their joinings over with. I'd like to get them over with before I have to deal with the nobility this evening."

Alistair nodded knowingly. It could very well be that he would end up in her sitting room again tonight, comforting her over two more deaths. And as much as he would enjoy holding her, the possible reason the privilege and the tears she would no doubt shed because of it, gave him a hollow feeling. He prayed to the Maker that both Anders and Nathaniel lived. If only so he didn't have to watch her cry.

A/N: Really makes you wonder what the Imperial Court is like, yes?