Chapter Nine
"I've made a thing I love; I ask no more
And never shall redeem the heart I lent.

Me in my world and thyself in thine,
Two petals on the same and silent flower.
And evermore I'll welcome thee in mine,
Your dear creation was my finest hour.
Emilie Autumn, Alas (The Knight)

"Alistair."
That one word could not break through his blurry psyche. He was probably dreaming again. He could have sworn Trija had told him Salvia was his daughter. That little girl that had lit up his life so brightly in a way impossible to pinpoint and without even trying to.

He didn't quite know how he had reacted or was reacting, or whether it was a true representation of how he felt. He wanted to say that he was amazed, or that he was thrilled, or that he wanted to run away from Anora and everything, as foolish as that would be. But then again, that was what Morrigan always called him, wasn't it? Fool. Spat out like it should be punishable by death.

He had tried not to think about most of his old companions in a while, most of all Morrigan. He couldn't quite place why he was thinking about them all now as if they were just outside their tent. Tent. What tent? He thought, snapping back into himself and realising the when and where.

"Alistair." It was breathy when uttered this time. He had broken their kiss to gently kiss the crook of her neck and shoulder, smiling as he felt her shiver at his touch. Once she had gathered herself, she proceeded to grab his hand.
"You may want to...move." She gasped, recovering herself further and moving deeper into the house.

Alistair allowed himself an "ah" to escape his lips as she led him away, relishing her small hand in his larger one.

The atmosphere changed when the door closed. It was more mature in a sense that they knew what was going to happened, and that they both wanted it. Trija seemed it fit to press the man against the door and kiss him rather fiercely.

Alistair reached behind them to unpin her hair, allowing it to cascade down her shoulders, the distracting noises she made unleashing all sorts of emotions. A thought of amazement flitted through his mind; he was newly amazed at how correctly they still fitted together.

He ran his hands down her sides and down her hips. He mentally braced himself and prayed that he might survive this without ruining more than Trija's life. It was now or never.

As soon as he blinked, he could feel her familiar territory, clothes being pushed aside and discarded. He heard and felt Trija say an "I love you" against his lips as they stumbled throughout their dusty minds and their fumbled their way into each other's arms.

**
The winds were relentess in the nighttime. It was so cold, and the wind just did not care for the stress of it all. It swept in and out of the already swaying trees, screaming at stone buildings and the firm old oaks that could not be swayed. As an extra bit of leverage, the wind would occasionally include icy spatterings of rain that miserabley tried to assault exposed skin with as much ferocity as a full pelt.

When her eyes flicked open, the young elf could hear the rain against the walls of her house as it fell. At first she panicked; she no idea she was, the area cloaked in darkness and silence. Lighting a candle whilst remembering where she was and what had transpired, Trija let the smile tugging at her lips unfold.

Sitting up, she brought her arms in and folded them across her chest, disturbing the blankets. Out the window she could see that the moon was waxing, the shadowed part not fully able to blend in. She stared at it and wondered how many other people were doing the same thing.

It was probably very early in that winter's morning, yet much too early for even the toughest labourers to be up and tending the fields or animals or people. No signs of life could be heard from the other houses, despite their distance and difference in size. She contemplated on paying a visit to Kerren, but decided that now was not at all appropriate.

She contemplated checking up on Salvia, but realised that her daughter would be deep in sleep. Not her daughter anymore, but their daughter, even they couldn't all be together. As for Farridan...well, he would return soon. He would have to listen; not understand, but listen.

Stirring from next to her made her turn her neck to see the warm body beside her. After getting his bearings, Alistair met the eyes that watched him, with a far-off look in his sleepy eyes that Trija had seen before. This made her smile.
"I think there may be a search party for you soon," she stated. Alistair furrowed his brow as he sat up, the candlelight distorting its surroundings.

"I would hope not." He sighed, looking around the room, his gaze finally resting on the woman next to him. His brow furrowed for the second time when he spotted something about her. Trija seemed puzzled.
"What?" She half-laughed, smiling as she did.
"That scar..." he trailed. "On your shoulder, I've never seen it before." Trija noticed where he was looking and bit her lip. She found herself taking a quick intake of breath when Alistair silently lowered his lips onto the scar in question. Her back stiffened and arched as she remembered to breathe. Little goose-pimples of pleasure surfaced on her skin.
"Alistair, you will be the death of me." She groaned when he quickly brought his lips away. He trailed his fingers dow her side from where they had gently rested next to her scar.

"But I still haven't been completely truthful with you," she pieced together, pausing so long to allow the words to surface that Alistair's hand lamely dropped away.
"Salvia is...ill. Not ill in a physical, sense, but she is...is often plagued. Most nights she is haunted by horrible dreams; about death and slaughter and butchery. They come every night, even some days."
"She wouldn't want you to know this, but you must...as her father." She grinned at him as she slotted the end words, and he reacted in a wild imitation of her own grin. Trija remained silent for a few moments more, eyes wandering the room once more.

"I know somewhere that it is a result of her tainted blood." She said, almost to the room. Alistair was obviously shocked by this, and Trija felt suddenly and inexplicably ashamed.

"It was because of that why I would have thought myself barren but," she sighed wistfully "obviously not." She began to worry when he did not reply. She turned to see him looking rather dumbfounded. Trija suddenly had the urge to shake him.

"Alistair."
He heard his name like his ears were filled with water. "I'm...sorry."
She tilted her head to the side in a silent question, blinking at him.
"There's no need to apologise for being lost in thought." Trija chuckled. Alistair shook his head at that.

"I mean I'm sorry for how this ended. I left you because I didn't want to put you through the pain of these things being a King's consort would bring, and it seems by trying to avoid them I produced them twice over."

The elf furrowed her brow, eyes looking to ceiling. "Alistair, there is nothing here to apologise for. We knew the risks and ignored them. Nothing we can do or say will change that."

Alistair slowly nodded as agreement came to him. A smile overcame his face. "Then let me just say that you and Salvia may just be the two best things to ever have happened to me."
Trija grinned back at him, and he noticed that she gently clasped his arms. She chuckled once more, before allowing comfortable silence to return.

"What happens now?" Came her voice from under the silence. He remembered asking her the same question years ago, the response setting his nerve endings on fire. He thought of how to reply for a moment, but remained silent as he attempted to sum up the words of all the many different scenarios that played through his mind. All would be deemed equally foolish and justifiable.

"I...don't know." This was all he could say. They were not as young as they had been, so they could not make promises they knew had passed them, or perhaps that would never pass. The rain grew a little heavier now, threatening to blow into their shelter and warmth.

Trija pondered this for a moment. "I think I know."
She held his gaze for a moment before he sat up. Alistair desperately hoped for every impossible thought to come true. With that, she sloped off the bed and to the other side of the room silently, his eyes still watching her.

She dressed herself anew, taking great care not to meet Alistair's eyes. She methodically placed her feet, one in front of the other, to peer out of the doorway. Upon doing so, she noticed her own daughter at the end of the corridor, carefully stepping out of her own room. Despite a pang of guilt, Trija smiled at the girl, quickly closing her own door behind her.

"Good morning, love," the little girl looked up at her, her eyes full of sleep. Trija ran her hands through the girls hair, inspecting a night's sleep worth of damage. "How did you sleep? You don't need some of that special valerian tea, do you?"

Salvia's eyes widened in a parody of horror, screwing her face up in disgust as she did. "No. I didn't wake up, I just had one nightmare the whole night. About gnomes."
Trija made a disapproving noise, at which the little girl panicked. "But it smells of socks..."

The unmistakable sound of the front door opening startled Trija. She panicked, and she and Salvia eyed each other for a few moments. Farridan. She rushed to meet the man, unknowingly bringing Salvia by the hand. He didn't seem to notice them while he emptied his satchel onto the table nearest him.

"Er, morning...Farridan." Trija mustered awkwardly. She had never been a good liar. Her husband grinned at her, holding up the book he had been thumbing indecisively.

"My book," he said "on the Heroine of Fereldan, no less, has just been bought."
Farridan raised his eyebrows, he rest of his face following in joyous pursuit. Trija let out a breath of laughter, one hand flying to her face.

"What?" She laughed in disbelief. "Who on earth would find me interesting?"
Farridan closed the gap between them to grasp her in a tight hug.
"Oh, do try not to be so modest, sweetheart." He chuckled. "You did save Ferelden, after all."
He released her from the bone-crushing hug after that.

Trija watched as the man swung Salvia around him and into another embrace, speaking words she could not quite fathom or discern. That pang of guilt returned as she slowly backed away to find Alistair. Yet, upon walking the halls of her home, he was nowhere to be found.