A/N: Advance apology for the days between chapters. I'm paying a visit to my mother, which means I have a packed social calendar and will probably not have much time to write. Or tons, depending on things… But I will get chapters up as they finish!
Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 33
Hero
The Shores of Lake Calenhad – Spring 2, 25th day
Knight-Commander Hegarty surveyed his Templars as they formed up on the shores of Lake Calenhad. It had taken the better part of the morning, but all forty-five men were now ready to march out. It wasn't quite what the Grand Cleric had ordered, but it was close enough not to delay any further.
Besides, how hard was it to arrest one pregnant Grey Warden?
Highever
Alistair's face was pale and taut as he rode through the gates of Highever. They should have run into the Warden's party en route. They had not, and seen no evidence of a large force traveling that way.
His last hope was that they were still at Highever, deciding not to risk the journey. Once in the gate, he knew that hope was lost as well. He could sense no Grey Wardens in Highever.
A bewildered Fergus met them at the gate. "I expected you to head straight for Amaranthine. They should be halfway there by now."
Alistair's heart pounded under his armor, but he kept his voice calm. "They were taking the Coastlands Road, correct?"
"Yes," Fergus replied suspiciously.
Alistair's jaw locked as he ground his teeth. Fury built inside him. He dismounted and stalked away.
At Fergus's confused look, Zevran hopped off his mount and explained, "We did not met them on the road. Search parties…"
Fergus was already barking orders. "Scouting parties! Three of them, now!"
Zevran left Fergus to handle the organization of the official search parties. He knew where he was going, but there was something to be checked on first.
He found Alistair in the garden, his forehead against an apple tree, its blooms starting to fall. Finn stood guard in front him. The old Mabari looked worried and whined at Zevran to confirm it.
"Alistair…"
"Oh leave me alone," the king practically sobbed.
Zevran stood his ground. "We shall find her, safe and sound. And she will have the baby and you and she and all your children will go back to Denerim and make a perfect royal family."
Alistair laughed bitterly.
Zevran continued, "Fergus is putting together search parties, you should be there, commanding them."
The king finally looked to the assassin. "What about you?"
"I am going to follow a hunch. Pray I am wrong."
"What…"
Zevran held up a hand and shook his head. "Just pull yourself together and be the man she loves when we bring her back." With that, Zevran turned and departed.
Alistair sighed with resignation and collapsed onto a bench, the same one he had collapsed on in the same fashion when she had returned from Weisshaupt. They had fought. He'd wanted to get married right away, she insisted on delaying a bit.
They still weren't married, despite his best attempt.
That was going to change.
When Elinora was back in his arms, there would be nothing that could stand between them and proper marriage, he'd seen to that. Maybe then she would stop vanishing from his life.
…be the man she loves…
Who was the man she loved?
At Ostagar, his heart had flipped over the moment he saw her. He was in love by the morning after her Joining, after holding her half the night through her fever. Throughout the Blight, he stood by her side, protected her, from one end of Ferelden to the other.
Like she needed a protector.
But she did.
Elinora walked into trouble like a drunkard into a bar. And worse, half the time it was with her eyes wide open. She could handle the trouble she found herself in, most of the time. Other times… he smiled to himself and shook his head, those were the time she needed him.
And then there were the quiet moments. The ones when they didn't have to be king and commander. Those were when she really needed him, and he needed her.
Alistair got off the bench. There was work to do, messages to be sent.
And then he would go find her.
The Fade
Wynne sat by the Fade-fire, impatiently tapping a finger against her crossed arms. Alistair had never seen her so worried.
"Wynne, what's wrong?"
The old mage looked to Alistair and rose. She tried to smile, but couldn't. She was more transparent than usual and seemed to waiver. "She's in danger."
"I know."
"Not the half of it, my dear boy." She weakly jerked her head toward the edge of the floating island, past the ever-present tent. "Look."
Alistair went to the edge and looked.
Away from him was another island, much smaller and emptier than this one. At the center glowed an oval-shaped orb, warm and welcoming. A black thing, Alistair could only describe it as a solid cloud, hovered underneath the island, tentacles reaching upward toward the surface and the orb upon it.
Standing between the monster and the orb was Duncan.
The old Warden's sword and dagger were out and his entire body was alert. A tentacle would reach up and he would hack it off, some easier than others. The detached end would vanish in a puff of black smoke, and the rest of it would retreat. Another always eventually replaced it.
"Duncan!" Alistair cried. The old warrior turned and gave him an approving nod before going after a thin tentacle that had reached up behind him. Alistair searched for away to get to the island and help him.
A very light touch on Alistair's should prevented him from trying to jump over the abyss. Wynne stood behind him and shook her head. "He protects your child. I protect Elinora and Petra. But neither of us can keep it up for much longer." Wynne looked sad and old. "Get her safe."
With that, Alistair was thrust out of the Fade.
Highever
The raised alarm of the guards pulled Alistair out of the Fade. He never would have slept, but Fergus had poured several tankards of ale in him to get him stay the night, claiming he needed rest and a direction to go in before riding out. The Teryn was right, but Alistair didn't have to like it.
He threw himself out bed and into a pair of breeches and boots. He was in the Great Hall before Fergus, right when Zevran entered.
Carrying Cailin.
Alistair cried out wordlessly and ran to his nephew.
"The boy is fine," Zevran reported as he passed Cailin into his uncle's arms. "Exhausted and in need of water, but unharmed."
Fergus jogged in and caught sight of Cailin. He swore.
Zevran raised an eyebrow with a smile for Fergus. "Looks like you owe your sister five silvers."
"Not the point." Fergus growled.
"No," Zevran sighed. He would never understand the Cousland sense of humor. "They went south, heading into the Bannorn. Elinora sent the child back to tell us."
Twyla and Maddox rushed in. Twyla gasped at the sight of Cailin.
Cailin wrapped an arm around his uncle's neck and whispered, "Go get mother."
Alistair cuddled his nephew, kissed his forehead and passed him into Twyla's waiting hands. "I need a horse. Now," commanded the king.
Zevran looked to Alistair. "We all do."
Fergus was already barking orders.
Twenty minutes later, Alistair was in the courtyard, armored and ready to ride. A groom held his horse. But the saddle was already occupied, by Cailin.
"No," Alistair said flatly.
Cailin said nothing, but gripped the pommel.
"Cailin, you need to rest," Alistair argued.
"I ate. I drank a bucket of water. Not sleeping, not till she's home." The boy was resolute.
"It would be faster to take him with us than to argue with him." Zevran had fond smile on his face. The boy reminded the former assassin of himself when he was that age, or would have been if he hadn't been a slave.
Alistair said nothing and mounted up, Cailin safely in front of him. Zevran followed suit.
Fergus jogged over to meet them. "I've got one hundred men for you. My best woodsmen and scouts, top warriors and three knights, all ready to head out. That should put you on at least equal footing with the Templars and Wardens if needed. You're sure you don't want the rest, and me?"
"No." Alistair said in his best king voice. "I need the army to head for the western border, as we discussed. Word is going to spread quickly and I want Orlais to see we're ready. And I need you commanding them."
Fergus shook his head. "Your majesty, as your almost-brother-in-law, I feel the need to tell you you're mad, but I will follow your command. But if you return without my sister…"
Alistair smiled. "I fully expect and deserve at least a punch in the face."
Cailin wiggled against his uncle. "Let's go!"
And so they went.