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Chapter 22 - Picking Up The Pieces
Saw the world turning in my sheets
and once again I cannot sleep.
Walk out the door and up the street
look at the stars beneath my feet.
Remember rights that I did wrong, so here I go.
Hello, hello. There is no place I cannot go.
My mind is muddy but my heart is heavy. Does it show?
I lose the track that loses me, so here I go.
I'm not calling for a second chance,
I'm screaming at the top of my voice.
Give me reason but don't give me choice.
'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again.
Same mistake - James Blunt
.
.
Fiona stood there quietly, looking up into Alistair's eyes. Alistair looked deeply into hers for a moment, then blurted his next words out.
"I'm sorry! I should have realized that you did - um- do love me and that you only wanted-"
"It's all right, Alistair. I'd have reacted exactly the same way. Maybe even worse. You have every right to be angry. And if I had been angrier, well. I'm sure you know that when a mage gets angry, sometimes magic can get out of hand. Fortunately, I kept it under control back there," she said quietly.
"We have a lot to talk about," Alistair said quietly, the corners of his lips turning upwards as he gave her a smile.
"Yes, that we do. But the hour is late, and I think we should get some sleep, so that when we talk next, the words make some sense," she hadn't moved, and kept her body in front of him. He was a lot taller, however, and his eyes searched the room for Chantalle.
"She doesn't want to talk to you, Alistair. I'm sorry," Fiona spoke again, gently this time.
"But-"
"You are very stubborn. I daresay you inherited that from me as well," Fiona sighed.
His eyes gazed into hers, where he found a spark of amusement. He was surprised at that.
"That as well? What else did I inherit from you?" His eyebrow shot up.
"Your anger, of course," Fiona sniffed, and then continued talking. "It's best that you leave, Alistair. Everything will be better later."
"But-"
"Alistair, please. We must get some rest. Try to trust me once for a change. I know I probably don't deserve your trust, but just try."
Her words had the desired effect. Alistair swallowed and nodded his head, looking like a beaten puppy. Fiona softened.
"It will be all right, Alistair," she whispered. "Have some faith."
And she closed the door.
Alistair stood there staring at the door for a few minutes. He felt the sadness taking over and there was a lump in his throat. From beyond the door, he heard Chantalle break into tears and start crying, Fiona's soothing words completely drowned out by his own feelings.
His heart had broken into a million pieces.
...
Maker help me. If I lose Chantalle, then I might as well die. As we are already in the Deep Roads, I'd consider walking into darkspawn to end it all, but I don't know if they would attack me, with the whole deal we've just made with The Beloved. Oh yes. I haven't written about that yet, have I?
Fiona made a deal with the Beloved. The Beloved is a highly intelligent darkspawn, much like the Architect, the only difference being that The Beloved is stupid. It truly believed Fiona when she said that she still carried the Taint. I must admit, I truly admire her, and the ruse she played. It has enabled us to gain a small victory for the moment.
The Beloved's army will defeat the General and his army. Oh. I forgot to write that, didn't I? The General is also a 'highly intelligent' darkspawn. He is the one attacking the wardens at Weisshaupt. He is searching for Morrigan's child, who is the result of the Ritual Duran performed with her in order for us to slay the Archdemon and live. The soul of the Old God now inhabits Morrigan's child. And that is what The General is after. I swear this just gets better and better.
The Beloved wants something entirely different. He wants the blood of a warden to continue the Architect's work.
Maker help me, I can't even write coherently. The only thing that seems important to me right now is Chantalle. The rest matters little. Well, that is not entirely true. I confirmed today that one of my parents at least, is alive.
Fiona is my mother. My real mother. Somehow something inside me already knew that. Maybe I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I don't know. I do know I should try to control my stupid temper because I pushed Chantalle away because of it! I shouldn't have done that.
But I did.
And now I may have ruined everything with her. Because of my anger and stupidity.
He flung down the quill, shutting the journal with disgust, and the tears started again. Bending his head down and placing his forehead on his arms, which were crossed on the table, he cried quietly, until exhaustion finally claimed him and he dozed off.
The next morning when he woke up, he stood up quickly, looking around for Chantalle wildly. Then the memory of what had happened came crashing down at him and he sat back down, his shoulders slumped.
"Hey, Commander!" Anders's voice came through the door as he knocked. "We're waiting for you for breakfast.
Alistair stood up and opened the door.
"I'm not having breakfast," he replied in a monotone.
"You'd better shave and bathe. You stink," Anders replied, wrinkling his nose.
Alistair's sad gaze turned into a glare.
"Are you here to just make me feel worse?" He hissed.
"No. I don't think you can feel any worse, to tell you the truth," Anders replied, pushing past him and walking into the room.
Alistair sighed as he faced the inevitable. It looked like he would have to be putting up with Anders after all. He closed the door and sat down at the table again.
"Look, Alistair. I know you must feel really badly. But Chantalle can't stay upset at you. She loves you," Anders sat down on the other chair facing Alistair. "Now, I took the liberty of ordering you some hot water for a bath. And you will shave and get dressed afterwards, because you have to talk to her."
"I suppose that's true," Alistair said frowning. "I'm so afraid to make things worse."
"You can't possibly make it worse, Alistair. We still have things to do against the darkspawn. Fiona says we're to set off for Orlais tomorrow." Anders smiled. "Besides, you are unbelievably lucky."
"Lucky? How so?" He asked, half-dreading his answer.
"There is nothing better than make-up sex. Just ask Oghren," A wolfish grin appeared on Anders's face and Alistair groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
There was another knock on the door and without waiting for an answer, Duran walked into the room, closing it behind him.
"Hey there, Alistair! What's that shit on your face?" He chirped, his eyes twinkling.
Alistair shot him a look and rubbed his chin, which was now completely covered in stubble.
"I haven't shaved...yet," he said, throwing a wayward glance at Anders, who was grinning.
"Oh, hey there, mage. How's it going?" Duran said cheerfully.
"You are just in time, my friend," Anders's said chuckling. "I was just telling our Commander here that Chantalle loves him and to stop feeling so sorry for himself."
"He-ey! I'm not feeling sorry for myself!" Alistair cried out indignantly, straightening up.
"That's-my-boy," Duran patted his arm, while he sat on the last available chair in the room.
"I know things may seem terrible now, Alistair. But once you two make up, you will be transported into the realm of delight. There is nothing in the world like make-up sex," Anders commented, a dreamy look on his face.
"What?" Alistair managed to get out, sounding deeply embarrassed to have to listen to that again.
"It's true! Just ask Oghren."
"That is so not what I want to hear right now," Alistair shuddered with disgust.
"Whatever," Anders replied as there was another knock on the door.
Alistair sighed and stood up to open it.
Three maids stood there with pails of hot water. He smiled at them, opening the door wider and in they went.
"Well, all right. Just leave me alone while I bathe, okay? I'll be down afterwards," he said as they filled the tub behind the screen with hot water.
"Oh, no you don't. We are here to make sure you do bathe and get yourself ready. We're not leaving without you." Duran spoke up this time.
The maids left the room, and shut the door behind them.
"All right, all right," he said, totally annoyed at them, as he stepped behind the screen. "But once I'm done, I hope that Anders doesn't continue to talk about Oghren and his -er- sex life."
...
They all made their way to the dining area in the inn. Chantalle wasn't there.
"Chantalle isn't here!" Alistair turned to them whispering. The rest of the wardens flung a cheerful hello at him and he managed a weak smile.
"No, she's in Fiona's room," Duran replied, speaking out of the corner of his mouth and giving Alistair a shove in Fiona's direction, who sat at the table sipping tea. "Just sit next to Fiona and talk to her."
He smiled at Fiona, who smiled back and sat down next to her.
"So," he said, and then he stopped, unsure of what to say next.
"So, did you sleep well, Alistair?" Fiona asked, her eyes warm on his.
"I didn't," he replied truthfully, "but thanks for asking."
Fernan and Marcus excused themselves from the table, announcing that they had to go do some shopping.
Alistair waved them away with a half-smile, and turned back to Fiona.
"I screwed up, didn't I?" He asked her, and Leliana snorted. He turned to her, and reddened slightly. "I snapped at you last night. Will you forgive me?"
"Oh, Alistair, there is nothing to forgive! You were angry, and I understand. I know you didn't mean what you said to me!" Leliana answered. Anders stared at her, the look on his face unreadable at the moment.
"Alistair, Chantalle loves you, but she is afraid. Your anger frightened her last night. She's worried that it may happen again, and of what could happen should you ever be angry at her," Fiona said thoughtfully.
"Maker's breath! I could never be angry at her! Last night, I even controlled myself when she talked to me, I actually felt that I was cooling down," Alistair cried out, the words tumbling out of his mouth non-stop. "I love her too much. She is everything to me."
"Alistair, we know that. And she loves you too. But you should try to control that temper of yours, which unfortunately is the same thing I keep repeating to myself from time to time," Fiona sighed. "I'm so sorry I didn't speak to you sooner about everything. I was very afraid of your reaction. And you did react much like I expected you would. I think you had every right to react the way you did."
"Yes, I'm sorry about that too. Truly. I don't know if I had a right, I mean...can anger ever truly be justified? But I do know I pushed Chantalle away, and that is unacceptable. It was a mistake to do that," he added.
"I'm sorry I've been such a bad mother. It's my fault that you felt so unhappy and bitter almost all your life-" Fiona began to say, but Alistair raised his hand to stop her while shaking his head. Fiona smiled then. "We have wasted too much precious time on this. We should make up the time we've lost together as mother and son, don't you think?"
"Yes. I think-I'd...I'd like that very much," Alistair stammered out. There was so much emotion in his voice, that Fiona felt the tears well up in her eyes.
Alistair saw the unshed tears in her eyes, and without saying another word, gathered his mother into his arms for the first time in his life.
He did not let her go for a long time.
He finally felt that he was wanted and loved by a parent.
He had a mother.
And he intended to keep her by his side.
Maker take the Weisshaupt wardens if they dared to lay a finger on her. He would kill each and every one of them if he needed to.
He would never let her go back there. He would never let her go.
Ever.
...
A/N: Alistair feels that he finally has a chance at having a relationship with a parent. This is one of the main reasons for writing this fic. I wanted to explore this, as I felt angry myself (and shocked) when I discovered about Fiona!