Thank you to Jen, Shakespira, voltagelisa, Eva Galana, Nithu, CCBug, jenncgf and Cousland1982 for your wonderful reviews!
And special thanks to my good friend Jen for another excellent editing job! You're the best! ;)
The Qun and all characters with the exception of Blythe and Allis belong to Bioware.
o~~~~~~~~o
The Wardens and their eclectic band of companions began to stir as the sun rose over Lothering. Only one person had been needed to take watch as they were still within the confines of the village. Knowing she would never get to sleep, Blythe had volunteered for first watch, and Reaper had stayed at her side to keep her company. Blythe now lay fast asleep in her tent, as fatigue finally overwhelmed her.
Alistair had taken second watch, and was now preparing breakfast as the others rose. He grinned at Allis, who walked over and winked at him. Allis' face fell when he saw what Alistair had prepared for breakfast.
"What's…that?" he asked doubtfully, looking at the grey mush in the pot Alistair stirred.
"This," Alistair smiled proudly, "is Fereldan lamb and pea stew. I learned to make it while on the road with Duncan and the other Wardens. Although," he added with a slight frown, "it sometimes wasn't needed. Usually the other Wardens had already eaten before I'd made it. Oh, well. Their loss, I suppose."
"I see." Allis grinned, raising an eyebrow.
"Here, have a taste," said Alistair, offering him a spoonful.
Allis gulped hard. "Thanks," he muttered, and reluctantly raised the spoon to his mouth as Alistair looked on expectantly. Upon tasting the foul slop, Allis' left eye clamped shut and his mouth twisted in disgust.
"Too salty, right?" mused Alistair. "Hmmm. I always make that mistake."
"Salty?" gasped Allis, his eyes streaming. "I think I'll need to eat some salt to take the saltiness away!"
Alistair grinned sheepishly. "Well," he asked, "can't you cast a spell on it or something, to make it more appetising?"
Allis laughed at Alistair's hopeless optimism. "Alistair," he joked, "I'm only a mage, not the Maker himself!" Then, seeing the disappointment behind his smile, Allis took his Alistair's hand and pulled him behind a tree.
"There is something you're good at, though," purred Allis. "You're a first-rate kisser."
"Oh?" Alistair asked, blushing. "Remind me?"
Allis stood on his tiptoes and reached for Alistair's face. The Templar leaned down and softly brushed his lips against Allis', wrapping his arms around the mage's waist.
His neck hurting from the difference in their heights, Alistair moved his hands to Allis' bottom and lifted him up, resting him against the tree as Allis' legs wrapped around his waist.
"Hello, there!" giggled Allis as he wrapped his arms around Alistair's neck.
"Hello, yourself," Alistair whispered, breathing heavily, as he leaned in toward Allis and kissed him deeply. Allis moaned softly as he felt the weight of the huge warrior pressing against him. Alistair felt his stomach knot as the mage's hands traced softly through his hair and down his neck.
Alistair gently pulled away, his face crimson, a huge grin spread across his face. He cleared his throat and set Allis down on the ground.
"Now, why'd you go and stop, just when I was getting into my stride?" moaned Allis playfully.
"Well," grinned Alistair. "We have an audience." Reaper sat next to them, watching intently, his head cocked to one side.
"Sorry, boy," Allis chuckled, ruffling the fur on Reaper's head, "No kisses for you. Your breath isn't as nice as Alistair's!"
The two men laughed, and turned as they heard voices coming from behind them.
Jowan was being led from the Chantry, bound and gagged, by four Templars. Two of them helped him onto a horse, and tied him to it, before the Templars mounted their own horses and rode out of the village with Jowan in the centre of the procession.
"Not taking any chances, are they?" Allis observed.
Alistair shook his head. "Nope. They'll take him back to the Tower for execution." He turned to Allis with a quizzical expression on his face. "I have to say, I was surprised when you agreed with me on what should be done with him. I thought that mages would stick up for one another."
"Not with him," replied Allis. "I saw what he did to those Templars in the Tower – it was completely unnecessary. He could have paralysed them or enthralled them, but he meant to kill them. And he just ran off and abandoned Lily and Blythe to their fates. Then, when he went to pull that dagger out last night? No. He deserves everything he gets."
They watched as four more Templars exited the Chantry, flanking an enormous man who resembled a human, but his ashen skin and red eyes told otherwise.
"What's that?" asked Allis.
"That's a Qunari," Alistair replied. "They're a race of proud and mighty warriors hailing from Par Vollen in northern Thedas. The Chantry has raised several Exalted Marches against them throughout history, so they hate one another. They have some very interesting ideas about mages," Alistair added with a grin.
"What do you mean, interesting?" asked Allis.
"They call them saarebas – meaning defective tools - and keep them on a leash," he chuckled.
Allis looked at Alistair doubtfully, then, realising he was being serious, spoke. "In that case, I'm surprised the Chantry doesn't love them," he remarked.
"True!" laughed Alistair, as they watched the Qunari being locked in a cage by the Templars, who then headed back to the Chantry.
"You don't think they've locked him in there just for being a Qunari, do you?" asked Allis.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Alistair replied. "Shall we go and speak to him? I think we could use someone like that."
"Good idea," Allis concurred as they walked over toward the cage.
As they approached, they realised with awe how huge the Qunari actually was. He towered over Alistair – who was easily 6'4" tall himself – and he must have weighed in excess of 350 pounds. He stood proudly with his eyes closed, and chanted softly to himself.
Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Annan esaam Qun.
He repeated this over and over again. Allis and Alistair looked at one another, not wanting to disturb him. Alistair cleared his throat. The Qunari opened his eyes and glared at them.
"You are not one of my captors," he said in a deep and surprisingly soft voice. "I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace."
"You're a prisoner?" asked Allis.
"I am in a cage, am I not?" he replied without malice. "I have been placed here by the Chantry."
"Have you a name, Ser?" asked Alistair.
"I am Sten of the Beresaad, the Vanguard of the Qunari peoples."
"I am Alistair, and this is Allis. Pleased to meet you."
Sten regarded them with scepticism. "You mock me," he replied, "Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands. Though it matters little now. I will die soon enough. I suggest you leave me to my fate."
Allis and Alistair conferred quietly for a moment. Allis approached the cage and spoke. "We find ourselves in need of skilled help."
"No doubt," Sten replied. "What help do you seek?"
"We are sworn to defend the land against the Blight," Allis replied.
Sten appeared interested in this. "The Blight? You are Grey Wardens, then?" Allis nodded. "Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill, though I suppose not every legend is true."
Allis smiled good-naturedly. "Then you can see why we need your help, Sten!" he grinned. "Do you think the Revered Mother would set you free?"
"Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my assistance?" Sten pondered. "It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here."
"We'll return later," said Allis.
"Farewell, then," replied Sten.
o~~~~~~~~~~~o
Anders and Dav stood beneath the trapdoor, speaking quietly. Dav had brought Anders and Cullen some water. It was late morning, and Anders' exhaustion was evident in the morning light.
"How is Cullen?" asked Dav.
Anders rubbed his eyes hard and yawned. "Not too good, Dav. He hasn't slept properly for two nights, now, and neither have I. We nodded off for a bit last night, but I woke up when he started talking to himself. For the last few hours he's been having conversations with people who aren't there. He's losing touch with reality."
"Those bastards," muttered Dav, referring to the Chantry, not actually realising the true gravity of the situation. "Is this what you were expecting?"
Anders nodded and yawned again. "Yes, and I'm hoping he'll come through it. Although I've heard of addicts who never recover completely." Anders voice broke at the end of the sentence. "Oh, sorry, Dav. I'm just so tired it's making me weepy! I just can't risk putting him to sleep with the Templars around."
"Well, that's another reason I came to see you," said Dav, "the Templars have other things on their mind at the moment. A group of them just rode in from Lothering. They caught Jowan, and have just taken him back to the Tower. It looks like they've postponed the search for you for the time being, at least in this area."
"They caught him? Good," Anders muttered. "I just wish I could have got my hands on him," he said angrily as he yawned once more.
"Come on," said Dav. "I think we can risk a little spell. I'll put you both to sleep."
"Oh, thanks, Dav," sighed Anders as they made their way through the tunnel, Dav locking the first door behind them. As they entered through the second door, Anders put a finger to his lips.
They stood in the doorway and watched Cullen for a few minutes. He sat hunched in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, a pained expression on his face. Although he directly faced the two mages, he appeared not to see them.
"I'm so sorry," he sobbed quietly to himself. "I should have done more to protect you. I just let you go, and now I don't know where you are, or if I'll ever see you again. I don't even know if you're still alive…" with that, he broke down in tears.
"Who's he talking about?" whispered Dav.
"Blythe," replied Anders. "A mage from the Tower. They were in love with each other, but she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens five days ago."
"The Grey Wardens?" whispered Dav. "Have you told him about Ostagar?"
Anders shook his head. "No, and I'm not looking forward to it, either. I don't think he needs to know at the moment, do you?"
"I love you!" Cullen shouted, distraught, looking straight ahead, "please believe me, Blythe! No, I would never wish harm upon you! No, I didn't want you to leave! Why are you saying that? I love you…!"
Dav gestured for Anders to lie down, and he complied. Dav crouched down next to Cullen and held his hand over him, speaking softly as he sent the Templar to sleep. Dav moved Cullen into a lying position and pulled a blanket over him.
Dav shook his head and walked over to Anders. "This'll put you out for about five hours. I'll come back and see you then."
Anders clasped his hand. "Thank you," he said as Dav put him to sleep.
o~~~~~~~~~~o
A group of men stopped at a likely spot for an ambush along the Imperial Highway between Lothering and Redcliffe. One of their spies had just returned with information regarding the Grey Wardens' activities in Lothering.
"Are you certain of what you heard?" asked the leader, a blond, tattooed elf with golden eyes.
"Yes, boss," the mole replied. "Stood outside the tavern, I did, when they sent Loghain's men packing. Then I overheard one of 'em – this big fella with light brown hair. He was talking to this elf - a mage, I think…"
"Spare me the physical description," interrupted the elf. "I already have one. Just tell me what they said."
"Oh, right," mumbled the infiltrator. "They said they're leaving for Redcliffe today."
"How many?" asked the elf.
"Er, three, boss," he replied. "I thought you knew that…"
"Not how many Wardens, you imbecile!" the elf exclaimed. "How many are travelling with them?"
"Oh, erm, let me see…they got this woman from the Chantry, another woman, a mage I think, but she looks scary…a dog, and this big oaf they let out of a cage."
"A dog. You really think I need to know this?" said the elf flatly.
"Well, it was a big dog. One of them Mabari."
"How about the female Warden?" asked the elf, a wicked smile on his face. "Was she pleasing to the eye?"
"Oh, yes boss. Very pleasing! She had a right nice set of knockers on her! I don't suppose you'd let us…have a go?"
The elf looked disgusted. "Knockers? What about her face? Did you even look at that? No, I guess not. And no, I don't suppose you could 'have a go'."
The elf stood up and looked into the distance, taking a deep breath. "It has been too long since I have known a woman. Men, they are a pleasing distraction. But women…they are softer, and smell nicer. And are less hairy…well, except for that one woman…at least, I think it was a woman. But, I digress.
Speaking of smelling nice," he said to the mole, fanning his hand in front of his face, "you need to take a bath!"
"Well, I have been on the road…" the spy muttered. The elf waved him away impatiently. A blonde woman dressed in peasant clothing walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
"You know, Zev, if it's a woman you want to know…" she purred seductively, stroking his ear.
"No thank you, my dear," the elf replied, swatting her hand away. "You are working with the Crows now. We don't shit where we eat. We have to keep our minds on our marks. Get into position. If you gain a high vantage point in those hills, you will see them approach long before they see us."
"Charming," the woman muttered, making her way up into the hills.
o~~~~~~~~~~o
The Wardens were packed and ready to leave. They'd earned some money from the Chantry Board, and had stocked up on provisions. Allis bought some basic armour and weapons for Sten and Leliana before they left. Alistair's stew had 'accidentally' been tipped over by Blythe, so they'd had dried rations for breakfast. Alistair had been very quiet as they were preparing to leave, and Blythe wondered if she'd offended him over the stew incident, so she went over to talk to him.
"Is everything alright, Alistair?" she asked, sitting next to him and putting her hand on his back as he pulled his boots on.
Alistair looked up at her and sighed. "Allis!" he called and beckoned the elf over.
Allis approached and sat in front of them. "What's up, big fella?" he trilled, then his face fell as he realised that Alistair looked troubled.
"There's something I need to tell you two," said Alistair, looking at the floor. "And I don't know how you're going to take it."
"Just spit it out," said Blythe. "It'll be over and done with then."
He sighed again and spoke, not looking at either of them. "Alright. You remember I told you that Arl Eamon raised me, right? And that he didn't have to?" Allis and Blythe nodded, looking puzzled.
"Well, the reason he did that was…because…my father was King Maric."
Silence fell. Alistair's gut knotted as he dreaded their reaction. Say something, please, he thought desperately.
"Are you sure?" asked Blythe at long last. Alistair nodded and looked at Allis, who averted his eyes, his face unreadable.
"Doesn't that make you heir to the throne?" Blythe asked in awe.
"What?" cried Alistair. "I hope not! At least I don't think…no. It was always made very clear to me that I was a commoner, and now a Grey Warden, and in no way in line to the throne."
"So why are you telling us now?" Blythe asked gently.
"Because I didn't want us walking into Redcliffe without you knowing. It will probably come up, and I didn't want any…awkwardness." He said quietly, looking at Allis, who had not yet said a word. "Look, I would have told you sooner," he explained, "but how do you bring something like that up? Ho, there! My name's Alistair, and my father was the King?" The Templar fell silent after realising his weak attempt at humour had failed.
"Does Loghain know?" Blythe asked.
"I would imagine so," he replied heavily, "as he fought with King Maric, and apparently I'm the spitting image of Maric when he was younger.
Well," he stood up, eager to change the subject. "There it is. You know now. I really didn't want to tell you at all, but I thought you had a right to know."
"Why didn't you want to tell us?" asked Blythe, standing up with him.
"Because people change when they find out. They see me as the bastard prince instead of just Alistair. Duncan knew, and kept me out of the fighting because of it. I wanted you not to know for as long as possible. If it means anything to you at all," he said, directing his words towards Allis, "I have no intention of taking the throne. In fact, the very idea terrifies me.
No, the rightful heir is Eamon. He has a claim through marriage, and, more importantly, he's very well liked by the people. That is, if he's alright…oh, I hope he's alright."
Blythe felt terribly sad for Alistair, and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. "Well, you'll always be just Alistair to me," she said, smiling, and pinched his cheek. Alistair forced a smile in return and watched as she walked away, leaving he and Allis to talk.