The Awakening
A Dragon Age Fanfiction
By Bionca Femme
Chapter 6:
Sidona held up her hand to signal the others to hold their position as she peered around the corner. They had made their way down into the secret passageway beneath the abandoned cottage and it wasn't long before they found the hidden underground cove. She smiled "Ah, good," she grinned and turned to Alistair, who eyed her quizzically.
"He's out there, along with four others. There is a mage," she locked eyes with Alistair. "Do you feel up to dealing with him?"
He nodded. "Oh sure, that cherry flavored swamp water did the trick. Don't worry about me."
She nodded, satisfied that he wasn't going to collapse from exhaustion in the middle of battle. "Bien, on the count of trois, yes?"
"On the count of what?" Alistair's eyebrows knitted together.
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "That's Orlesian for three."
Alistair blushed, "Right, I knew that."
Nathaniel snorted and Sidona merely shook her head fondly. "Alright, on the count of three."
The two men nodded and quietly drew their weapons. "One," she said, drawing her own dragonbone sword and Warden heavy shield. "Two…" she bent her knees, readying herself for the sprint. "…three!"
The three launched themselves out into the openness of the cave, both Sidona and Alistair letting out loud fearsome warcries. Nathaniel took up position on the stairs leading up to some storage.
The two warriors met with snarling resistance but neither were phased by the animosity that the smugglers displayed in their attacks. The Dark Spawn were evil incarnate, after all.
The battle was quickly over and Sidona stood over the prone figure of the man that had led them on a merry chase through the city. Her boot was planted firmly on the man's chest, and she watched for a while with amusement as he struggled vainly to squirm out from underneath her. Finally he gave up fighting and decided that he would start bargaining. "You seem like an intelligent woman, Warden-Commander. You know an opportunity when you see one, am I right?" he tried to turn a dazzling smile on her but the effect was ruined by his bad teeth.
"I am an intelligent woman," she replied. "At least intelligent enough to know, how do you say, bullshit, when I hear it." She heard Alistair snicker and she wondered if she pronounced it wrong. By the look on the smugglers face, however, it seemed he at least understood what she was trying to say.
"Listen," he stammered out hastily. "You just let me go and I promise I'll leave Amaranthine."
Sidona narrowed her eyes at the wretch. "And why did you not offer this to me before now? Instead of throwing many of your men in my path to be slaughtered. Those men's deaths could have been avoided," she growled and then ground her heel into his rib, making him groan in pain.
"I'm sorry! I am!" he wailed.
"Oh, if only all problems in this world could be fixed by those few simple words, ah? If only it were so easy to go to those men's wives and children and say, 'I killed your husband and father, but I am sorry.' What an uncomplicated world this would be, no?" she mocked. "But," she sighed theatrically. "Never let it be said that I am a Warden-Commander without mercy. I am turning you over to the authorities," she said with a frown. Obviously preferring to kill him but not being able to see any practical reason to, other than personal enjoyment.
"But, they'll hang me!" he whimpered.
"Then start praying, for only the Maker has any mercy for you now," she replied and removed her boot from his chest. She gave Alistair a nod and he bent down and hauled the man to his feet. By then Nathaniel had joined them and Sidona tilted her head towards the exit her eyes never leaving the smuggler. "You first, and slowly," her voice lowered in deadly warning.
The man took two steps and then he burst into a run towards the dock, obviously meaning to dive into the water and disappear out into the cove. None of them, with the exception of Nathaniel could have jumped in after him as both Sidona and Alistair wore plate armor. "Nathaniel," Sidona spoke in an even tone of voice, "take him down."
Before the man hit the water one of Nathaniel's arrows pierced him through the heart. The three of them stood there for awhile, watching the body of the smuggler bob up and down before finally sinking beneath the surface of the dark sea water.
"Imbecile," Sidona muttered.
"Oh, I don't know. Death by hanging or death by running for freedom," Alistair replied with a shrug. "Its quite an interesting choice don't you think? Death or…oh, more death!"
Nathaniel shook his head. "He would have hanged publicly. Maybe he had family here and didn't want them to witness his shame."
Neither Alistair nor Sidona had anything to say to that. There was a faraway look to the Rogue's eyes and Alistair could only surmise that the man was thinking of his Father. Alistair kindly refrained from pointing out that Lyna had at least not executed Nathaniel's father in public. Not like she had Teryn Loghain.
"Well, now that we have this all taken care of, let's cheerfully loot their bodies and then go find out where our Antivan Crow went," Sidona suggested.
"Sounds good to me. Knowing Zevran he's either found trouble or trouble has found him," Alistair gave her a lopsided smile.
They went through the pockets of the smugglers, taking money, jewelry and any valuable weaponry that they could find. Alistair found a lock-picking kit and immediately handed it over to Nathaniel.
"You're giving this to me?" Nathaniel looked at him with some surprise.
"Yes, why? Do you have one already?" Alistair asked distractedly as he rifled through the last smugglers pockets.
"No, I just would have thought you'd give it to your elf friend," Nathaniel pointed out, his confusion made his face even more pinched looking that usual.
Alistair stuffed the handful of silvers he found into his money pouch and then craned his neck to look at Nathaniel. "Well, as much as he proclaims to be highly skilled, he still has trouble with lock-picking. Lyna and Leliana were much better at it than he was. So he stuck to poisons and traps. He's much better at disarming traps than setting traps though."
"Oh," Nathaniel replied and then tucked the kit into a pocket. "My thanks."
Alistair stood and clapped the slighter man on the back, rather harder than he meant to. "I'm glad you like it, Nate."
Alistair left Nathaniel to join Sidona where she was looking over the smuggled goods near the dock. "Its nice to see you two getting along," she grinned at him cheekily.
"Who? Me and Nate?" Alistair asked.
Sidona's eyebrows shot up. "Nate?"
Alistair laughed. "I don't think he likes it much. I guess its my way of getting under his skin."
"Still," Sidona smiled at him affectionately. "I am glad that you gave him that kit. He needs us to reach out to him. I would hate for him to feel like an outsider. There is much that he has suffered and though it is his Father's fault, he is having trouble facing that."
"I wonder what kind of Father Rendon Howe was?" Alistair said thoughtfully as he glanced back at Nathaniel who was going through the contents of a crate.
They emerged through a different secret trapdoor, this one surprisingly opened out into a backroom of the Crown and Lion, an Inn as old as the city itself. Some say that the city itself was built around it and the Inn was built along the Pilgrim's Path centuries ago. Even more surprising to the three companions was the fact that standing at the bar and haggling with the Dwarven bartender was Zevran.
"Ninety-three sovereigns!" exclaimed Zevran. "Oh, I see. This is a joke, you are playing with me, surely. I was not aware that dwarves possessed such wit! It must be a surface dwarf thing, yes?"
"You heard right, ninety-three sovereign and not a copper less!" the Dwarf replied with a sniff.
Zevran lifted an eyebrow at the Dwarf, "Well then, you won't be parting with it today my friend. I happen to be good friends with Master Wade. I could merely describe the dagger to him and he could make me one of twice the quality."
At the mention of Master Wade the Dwarf's face colored. "Ain't no human can make you anything better than this dagger. This blade was made by the Paragon Branka herself!"
Zevran responded with an amused snort. "Oh? Is this after or before she enslaved some of your people on the Anvil of the Void? Rumor has it that she's gone quite mad," he purred out.
"Why you-," the Dwarf started to retort angrily but Zev held up his hand.
"Now, I would be willing to part with maybe…ohh, ten sovereign. It really is a decent blade. Not the best I've ever seen, but quite handsome," he offered.
"Ten? Ten?" the Dwarf growled. "I may be a dwarf but I can't live on the stone alone! Seventy!" he countered.
"You mean the dwarves don't just simply spring out of the stone like miniature golems? Twenty sovereigns!" Zevran counter-offered.
"No, we got Mothers the same as you, you swooshy arrogant prig! Fifty Soveriegn!" the Dwarf shook his fist at the elf.
This went on for another fifteen minutes or so as the companions looked on with awe. When it was over, Zevran had managed to walk away with a fine volcanic wrought dagger for only thirty-five sovereign. He joined them with a devilish grin on his face. "Well, that was invigorating," he said.
"You're a public menace," Nathaniel said before either Sidona or Alistair could close their mouths from the shock of what just transpired.
Zevran tilted his head to the side with a look of interest on his face. "Intriguingly enough, you are not the first to tell me that," he said thoughtfully.
Sidona shook her head and then looped her arm through Alistair's. "Well Zevran, if you have taken care of all your business then we can go speak to the merchant and then the Captain. I cannot wait to leave this city."
Zevran nodded. "Indeed, I will give a full report once we return. If, that is alright with you, my dear."
They left the city almost near nightfall, the refugees thanking her profusely as they filed in through the gates. They were an hour outside of the city by the time they made camp. Which was fine with Alistair, somehow even though he missed his bed at the Vigil, making camp had become a familiar practice and the act strangely set him at ease. He even managed to get out of cooking as Sidona insisted that she make the evening meal. Which turned out to be roasted rabbit and wild onions, it was actually quite delicious. With full bellies they decided to turn in early and they drew straws for first watch. He and Sidona, coincidentally enough, ended up on first watch.
"So, when are you going to tell me about your past, Alistair?" Sidona asked once Nathaniel and Zevran were sleeping in their tents.
"Well, there's not much to tell, really," he looked up at her from where he was cleaning his armor. They were both clad in a shirt and trousers now, but their weapons were nearby.
"I have difficulty believing that," she replied. "However, I understand if you are not ready, mon cher."
"Mmm, alright, I will tell you. But you have to tell me what 'mon cher' means and why you keep calling me that," he answered with a grin.
She grinned back. "It means 'my dear'."
Alistair blushed. "Oh."
"Does it not please you that I think of you so? Would you rather I did not call you that?" she asked worriedly.
"Oh no…its not that," he laughed nervously. "I just…wow! I mean, no one has ever really spoken to me like that before. The only people who ever really cared about me were Duncan and Lyna and well, you know…"
One of her eyebrows lifted, "Alistair, have you never had a sweetheart?"
He shook his head, "I grew up in a Chantry, it wasn't exactly a life for rambunctious boys. I mean, if I had become a Templar, I would have remained Celibate. Its why the Chantry starts training its Templars from a young age. Innocence is easier to control."
Sidona frowned. "But it is not their only method of control, no?"
"Oh, you mean Lyrium?" Alistair replied and with her nod he cleared his throat. "Well, yes. The chantry does control the Lyrium trade. Though Lyrium isn't necessary to use Templar's talents, they just say it makes it easier. Though I never got hooked on it, lucky me."
"Lucky for us all," she smiled sadly. "I don't know what we'd do if you ran out. Though it seems that Anders always seems to have an ample supply," she murmured thoughtfully to herself. "So the Chantry was…lonely for you?"
Alistair set his breast plate down and picked up a greave. "I guess it was, when I took the time to think about it. Mostly though I think I felt abandoned. I suppose you know that I was raised by Arl Eamon?"
"Yes, that is what the Bard's say. You are the bastard Prince. Prince Alistair the Brave. Come from the ranks of the Grey Wardens along with the Dalish Hero of Ferelden to save Thedas from the Archdemon. That even when offered the throne of your Father you refused, deciding instead to bare arms against the darkspawn and save your people by staying a Grey Warden," she reiterated the tale with a grin.
"Maker's breath!" Alistair exclaimed. "I didn't take the throne because I didn't want it!"
"No?" her eyebrows shot up. "Many people would like being King, even for a day."
"Well, I suppose I am not many people, then. Eamon, Isolde, even Teagan spent a lot of time telling me that I would never take the throne and that I was a bastard child. I wasn't even worthy enough to sleep in the castle with everyone else. I got put in the stable," Alistair growled.
"Oh, Alistair!" Sidona's eyes grew sad and she got up from her seat and sat down next to him. She leaned her head upon his shoulder. "What an awful thing to do to a child!"
Alistair shrugged careful not to jostle her head too much. "It was mostly the Arlessa's doing. She resented me because of the rumors that I was Eamon's bastard instead of Maric's. Though if they had waited until I'd gotten older they would have seen how closely I resembled Cailan and Maric."
"No wonder," Sidona said sadly.
"No wonder what?" he turned to face her.
Sidona didn't reply, instead she laid her hand against his cheek. "Alistair?" she asked.
Alistair had let his eyes slide shut as he leaned into her touch, her warm hand felt good on his cheek. "Yes?"
"Kiss me," she whispered huskily.
"As my Lady commands," he whispered back and he pushed the greave off his lap and replaced it with the elven woman in his arms. His lips found hers and one of his hands buried itself in the silken mass of her fiery red hair. She moaned against his lips, her mouth opening slightly and he used this to his advantage, snaking his tongue past her lips and tentatively stroking hers. Her hand had found its own way into the hair at the base of his neck and as he plundered her mouth her fingers flexed, scraping her nails over his skin and grasping his hair firmly. He growled in response and pulled her tighter against him. As a result her breasts pressed against him, she felt soft in his arms and Maker was she ever warm against him. He slid his hands under the back of her shirt and up the line of her spine and realized that she was not wearing a breast-band. His already reacting body went into over drive and the tingling feeling that was racing throughout his whole body suddenly became an ache and centered in one particular spot. It was all he could do to restrain himself from grinding himself against her bottom, which was squirming strategically in his lap. He pulled out of their heated kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. "I…Maker…we need to stop," he hissed as she wiggled against him and poked her lower lip out. "And you definitely need to stop wiggling."
"What if I don't want to stop," she purred. "What if I want you to take me, right here?" she wiggled again.
Alistair groaned. "You are an evil woman," he replied and both of his hands grasped her hips and held her firmly in place, causing her to growl in frustration. "I want you, I do. Just…not here."
She sighed unhappily, "Why not?"
Alistair chuckled and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Because if I know Zevran he's awake and listening to us, and I don't want to share this with anyone else."
"Spoil-sport!" Zevran shouted from his tent. "If you aren't going to be entertaining, at least do me the courtesy of being quiet," he grumbled.
Alistair and Sidona looked at each other and then Sidona started giggling uncontrollably. Alistair watched her with an affectionate smile. One that she kissed after she was done laughing. "Alright, mon cher. We will wait until we are back at the Keep, but then you are all mine."
Alistair chuckled, "Yes, my Lady."
She removed herself carefully from his lap which he mentally thanked her for. One more wiggle would have been his undoing and he would have taken her right there, just as she had asked him to.
He looked at her and his heart ached along with his nether region. She was beautiful when she was disheveled from his attentions. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm, not missing the way her eyes slid closed and she shivered. "Maker's breath but you're beautiful, I am a lucky man."
Her cheeks colored and she smiled at him. "I think I am the lucky one."
He squeezed her hand gently and then released it and picked the greave back up from where he'd discarded it. He attacked it with determination and the cloth he'd been using, hoping, but knowing it was no use, that his arousal would go away quickly.
"Alistair!" a feminine shout from behind him made him turn from the view of Redcliffe Castle. He'd come there after the battle, waiting for Bann Teagan to come and speak with them. He'd been glad that he had gotten there ahead of everyone else. It gave him some time to reflect, to steel himself to face Isolde again…and Eamon. When he managed to get all the way turned around, he found blue eyes, pointy ears and the ever present half smile of his fellow warden staring back at him. "Hey," he greeted.
"Lethallin," Lyna's head canted to the side, as if she were a mabari observing him with curiosity. "Why did you not wait for me? Are you alrigh?"
"Yes," he said immediately and then watched as one of her blond eyebrows lifted upwards in that way that suggested that she knew that he was lying. "Well…no," he admitted."
"Is this about what you told me before? About the Arl raising you?" she asked. When she received a shrug coupled with an embarrassed shuffle she sighed. "Would you rather go back to camp and let me handle them?"
He shook his head. "No, I owe it to the Arl to make sure he's ok."
"Alistair, you owe them nothing," she replied bluntly.
"What? No, I owe him everything!" he narrowed his eyes at her. "He raised me, he didn't have to. He put food in my mouth and clothes on my back and…and…" he trailed off.
"He made you sleep in the stable and let his bitch of a wife treat you like trash until he finally got sick of her nagging and he dumped you on the Chantry's doorstep where they intended to turn you into a Lyrium addicted bully," she finished for him.
He flinched, "Ok, I see your point."
"Alistair, all your life these people have tried to tell you who you are. You yourself told me how happy you were when Duncan conscripted you. These people will only use you to their own ends, they care nothing for you. If they had, they would not have discarded you so. The Dalish would never do that to a member of the Clan. I was orphaned at a young age and the entire village raised me like I was their own. Don't let them make you feel grateful to them for wronging you," she finished by pulling him into a hug.
Alistair felt his eyes sting and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Your parents are dead too?" he felt a little ashamed. All this time he had acted as though he was the only one.
He felt her chuckle. "That whole speech and that's what you get out of it?" she pulled out of the embrace and ruffled his hair. "Honestly, little brother. What am I going to do with you?"
Alistair's eyes widened, "Brother?"
"I have no clan, no home to go back to. My home is with the Grey Wardens now, with you. But I tell you this truly, I would have adopted you anyway," she ruffled his hair fondly.
He jerked his head away from her hand and fixed her with an affronted scowl before fixing his hair. "Why am I the little brother, then? I'm almost twice your size!"
"I'm older than you," she replied with a triumphant grin.
"By three months!" he laughed. Then the entire conversation sunk in for him and he was again hit with a sense of awe. "Thanks, I really needed that. And you don't know how happy it makes me to know that I have family again. After Duncan…I just felt so lost. I'm so grateful that you're…well, you."
Before Lyna could reply, they were joined by Teagan who then proceeded to tell them about a secret passage located below the mill.
Alistair awoke to find that it was near morning and somehow in the middle of the night, Sidona had managed to sneak into his tent and crawl into his bedroll with him. He shifted slightly and lifted the blanket to find that she'd also slipped into his spare tunic and had one arm and one leg draped over him. He replaced the blanket over them both and tightened his arms around her, chuckling as she mumbled incoherently and burrowed further into the crook of his arm. He kissed the top of her head. "My home is Amaranthine, now. With you," his whispered gently.
A/N: And on the count of three, ready? One, two...three! "Aww!" Alistair can be quite a sweetheart can't he?
I'm sorry that its taken me so long to get anything out to you. I had some terrible things happen to my computer and long story short, it died.
Along with all of my files! Grrr. But I worked all weekend and on the tainted Knight and this story between two laptops and I think that I can safely say that I'll have a few more chapters of The Tainted Knight out to you soon, (for those of you following that story)
Thank you, Melismo, for enduring the four chapters I clobbered you with. =)