That You May Always Remember Me

Chapter 7

"where exactly are we going?"

In the Orlesian town near Elissa's camp there was a ruddy brown horse at the stables. It was nothing pretty, but clearly well-fed and sturdy, so Alistair purchased it from the horsemaster and led it back to the group alongside his own stallion. He held the reins out toward Elissa, whose eyes quickly darted between the man and the horse. "We're going to ride those?" she asked.

"Fastest way to get around," he replied, patting the beast's strong neck. "Unless you've learned to fly in the past ten years."

Elissa didn't laugh or smile, but continued to watch the animal hesitantly, biting her lip so hard Alistair was afraid he'd see blood break soon. "Did I used to know how to ride one?"

"Of course you…" Alistair thought back to their travels across Fereldan - travels that had always been on foot. He remembered a time in Redcliffe when Leliana practically begged Elissa to use their limited funds to buy a few horses and save her poor shoes from falling completely apart. Elissa simply said they didn't have the coin and bought the Bard a pair of sturdier shoes instead, which didn't seem, to please her as much as her old ones had. Alistair was surprised to recall Elissa's expression when faced with the large animals then was incredibly similar to her expression now, and he sighed at the realization that it wasn't that she couldn't remember how to ride, but that she'd never learned in the first place. Without saying another word, he took the horse's reins and went back to the stables, leaving Elissa standing alone and uncomfortably with his stallion. He returned a short time later, somewhat agitated and muttering that the horsemaster wouldn't give him back the entirety of his coin.

They'd set up a small congregation on the edge of town, just before the woods began, and prepared to leave as soon as possible. While everyone else checked and double-checked their packs, Elissa sat alone, surrounded by the wolves that had served as her companions for years. Alistair listened as she spoke words of advice to them in hushed tones and smiled. If there was one thing Elissa was more compassionate toward than people in need, it was dogs. His smiled faded, though, as he realized that once she recovered her memory he would have to explain that her beloved Mabari passed away years ago. He'd kept it with him after she presumably died, but the poor thing would hardly eat. The veterinarian told him there was no specific cause of death, but Alistair knew it was a broken heart. He'd been surprised the same thing hadn't happened to him yet. "You can take them with you, if you want," he commented and crouched beside Elissa, reaching a hesitant hand out to the head of the nearest beast, which bared its teeth aggressively.

Elissa scratched behind the angry wolf's ear and smiled tiredly at Alistair. "They're wild animals. They belong out here, not in a city." The wolf whined in her hand and she frowned. "For years I thought the same about myself. I guess that's changed."

Alistair bit his lower lip. "I know they mean a lot to you… Do they have names?"

"Of course," she responded in a cheerier tone. "That's Flower, and Boulder, and Fuzzy…"

"What about this one?" he asked, pointing to the animal that had growled at him and was keeping close to Elissa.

She raised her other hand to cup the wolf's face and smile sweetly at it. "He's my favorite; always by my side, whether we're fighting, eating, or sleeping." She scratched him harder as the dog happily licked at her wrists.

"So what's his name?"

Elissa shifted her eyes before answering quietly. "Alistair."

Alistair stifled a laugh but couldn't stop the smile from creeping across his face. "That's a good name."

"It just sort of… came to me." Elissa looked up at him self-consciously, and upon seeing his grin, rolled her eyes and sighed. "It's just a name!" she argued and stood to leave the area, followed by the wolf. Alistair remained, though, smiling and laughing to himself as it dawned on him that she remembered more than she realized.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Put your foot here," Alistair explained, holding the stirrup in his hand. Elissa looked to the horse's large face and took a small step backward. "I promise you nothing will happen." He smiled charmingly at her and her feet shuffled slightly forward. Eventually, after much hesitation, one foot found itself in the leather strap. "Now lift yourself up and throw your other leg over to the other side." Elissa fearfully did as she was instructed and found herself sitting squarely on the horse's back.

"I did it!" she exclaimed at her small triumph, beaming down at Alistair. "What do I do now?"

"Nothing," he responded, and placed his own foot onto the stirrup, lifting himself to sit behind her.

She tensed as his arms wrapped around her sides to grab the reins of the beast. "What are you doing?"

"You can't ride," he explained. "So either we all walk, which would take about a thousand times longer, or you ride with me." She failed to find a way to argue with this and, after Viola and Cole readied themselves on their own steeds, the group set off for the Frostbacks.

Alistair rode as gently as he could while still keeping pace with the others. He watched Elissa struggle in front of him until she eventually developed a rhythm with the beast beneath them, smiling when he saw her gaze finally rise from the saddle she sat upon to the landscape around her. They had left the snowy climate of southern Orlais for more temperate lands. The ground was a mix of brown and green, but the air still chilled your bones when you sucked it all into your lungs at once.

"Where did you learn to ride?" His grip tightened on the reins of the horse as she spoke her first words since they set off on their journey.

"In Redcliffe," he began. "That's where I grew up." He had to remind himself that she didn't know everything he might assume she did. "I worked in the castle as a boy, but I was somewhat friendly with a young man who served the stables. He fancied this maid and used to beg me to cover his work cleaning out the stalls so he could spend more time with her. I told him I would do it if he taught me how to ride." He laughed to himself. "What a fool! She wound up leaving him for a Templar, but I got a lifelong skill."

"It sounds like he was in love," Elissa commented, watching the horizon. "Even after all of that, I doubt he'd call it a waste."

Alistair sighed and struggled to breathe in the sweet scent she had managed to keep in her hair. "Maybe you're right."

They rode in silence for a while more until Elissa spoke up again. "So where exactly are we going?"

"We'll stop at the Frostback Mountains first," he explained. "That's where Viola's organization keeps their fortress. After that we'll leave together for Denerim."

"Denerim." Elissa rolled the word around her mouth as she tried to find some connection to it. "Did I used to live there?"

"No," Alistair answered regretfully. "But it's where I live now. We can certainly arrange for you to visit your own hometown but that will have to wait until we get to the city."

Elissa nodded slightly, bobbing along with the horse. "So what do you do in Denerim?"

"Do?"

"You know, how do you make a living?" Alistair sucked in a sharp breath and Elissa quickly realized his reluctance to answer. "Come on, I don't know anyone there except you, and I barely know you. You can at least tell me what your job is." When Alistair continued to fail to respond, she smiled devilishly. "Fine, I'll have to guess. You have calluses on your hands." His heart stopped briefly when her fingers ran across his palms in examination. "Right where you would hold a sword. That and your prowess fighting the demons means you might be a soldier of sorts. They're old calluses, though, so a former soldier then. What do you do now…?" He ripped his hands away from hers and gripped the horse's reins tightly. "Nothing too ordinary. If you were a blacksmith, or a butcher, or a farmer your hands would show it. No, the only work they do nowadays is pushing a quill across some parchment. White collar then. A former soldier would only have so many options… You're too young to be retired. Maybe you've been promoted. But I can tell you're not experienced enough to be a general, and many lower positions would still wield a weapon fairly often. Maybe you married rich and your wife's father got you some easy job as a manager or overseer of some sort." She glanced back at him briefly and caught sight of his blush. "That seems to have hit pretty close. So what is it?"

"You're giving up? And I was so enjoying listening to you guess…"

Her laugh was the same after ten years and it lightened his heart to hear it again. "I admit defeat. What do you do, Alistair?"

"Well, you were pretty close…" He didn't like this; it could only lead to questions of how and why and he hated those, but she deserved to hear at least part of the truth. "I don't fight anymore. I mostly order people around and make decisions for everyone else."

"So a manager like I guessed?"

He shrugged. "In a sense." Breathing in deeply he finally answered, "I'm the king."

She snorted and lurched forward. "Sure, and I'm the Empress of Orlais. I asked a serious question, you know."

"And I gave you the answer. My name is Alistair Theirin and I'm the king of Fereldan."

She turned around as much as she could in her position atop their horse. "King? For real?" He shrugged again and nodded. Turning back to the horizon she sighed and remained quiet for an amount of time that made Alistair uncomfortable until she continued, "So how did I become friends with the king of Fereldan?"

"It's not all that surprising, considering you're father was a Teryn." She started to turn around again, but Alistair forced her to face forward because he knew an entire rant was about to be released from him out of sheer anxiety. He couldn't stop it, or the speed at which it all came out. "But that's not how we met. You're family was killed at the beginning of the Blight, but you were saved by a Grey Warden named Duncan. He took you to Ostagar where you also joined the Wardens, but then everyone died at the ensuing battle except for you and me. So we scoured the country fulfilling treaties and righting wrongs until the final battle against the Archdemon, where you slew it and seemingly died yourself. That's why I didn't look for you: everyone thought you were dead." He gulped, realizing that it was all too much at once, but couldn't stop himself from adding, "They call you the Hero of Fereldan."

"Oh," was all she said until they reached the Frostbacks. Upon entering the Inquisition's base their horse was taken away to be cared for and each of them were led to a room with fresh sheets and a warm bath. Alistair watched the stones in the wall as he sat in a meaningless tub of now filthy water and considered what damage he had done with Elissa. It was all the truth, but how much of it could one person handle at once? Surely he had said too much, he'd pushed her away, she was now racing back to the wilderness. Rising from the bath and wrapping a beige towel about his body he decided that he would have to present her with more than his own account and prove that she really was all that he claimed.