I want to thank my dear reviewers: megglesnake, PheonRen, LadyCallia, Warrose and Jinx1983 for all your constant support and feedback! You ROCK! :D
This is a revealing chapter, lol :D
Bioware owns and I...I play with ALISTAIR! :P
Chapter 26 - Not Happening
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man
It surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Carry on Wayward Son - Kansas
.
.
Alistair turned to Chantalle, his eyes dark.
"This letter is from Arl Eamon," he said quietly.
"The man who sent you away to the Chantry when you were a boy?" She asked.
"The very same," he sighed and sat at the table, pulling her close so that she sat on his lap. He still had the missive in his hand.
"Are you going to open it?" Chantalle said, eyebrows slightly raised.
"Do I have to?" He answered automatically without thinking.
"Well, don't you want to know what he wants?"
He sighed again, briefly kissing her on the cheek before speaking.
"We didn't exactly part on best terms. He, um, wanted me to be king, and I refused the throne. Duran helped me out with that one. If it wasn't for him, I'd be king right now."
She saw the darkness in his eyes again and gently caressed his long hair. It felt smooth and silky at her fingertips.
"We had a discussion after Anora regained the throne. After both the Landsmeet and the Blight were over. We argued about my birthright and I was furious at him. I called him a stuck-up noble who only wanted power for himself."
"Well, you might have been right to say that. He pushed you away and then he wanted you on the throne? It sounds to me as if he was trying to manipulate you."
"I am still angry at him. He was the one who lied to me about my mother. He told me that my mother was a serving girl at the castle. He told me she had died. I know that he was following Maric's orders, but still..." His eyes fixed themselves on the wall opposite of where they were sitting. "He knew the truth. And nobody would want me on the throne if they knew who my real mother is. So, he kept the truth from me and hid it well, so I could become king...knowing full well that nobody would accept me if they knew about my mother. It makes me dislike him more, right now. What is more, the woman he said was my mother had had another child before me. A girl. I tried to contact her in Denerim. Her name is Goldanna. She turned out to be nothing but a gold-digging harridan. And if he had only told me the truth, I would have been spared that pain. The pain of knowing that not even an apparent family member wanted me."
She frowned at this, her eyes sad as she brought a hand to his cheek. He held it there, and took it to his lips, kissing her palm.
"I do know one thing. If he has written, it's because he is planning something. Something to do with the throne. And me. He's obsessed with it all."
He held her closely and the letter dropped from his hand, unnoticed. His lips were suddenly upon hers, seeking her passion and love, his urgency to make her his at that moment filling him completely.
He pushed the thought of Eamon getting in touch with him away. The thought of an unwanted throne, of a throne without her.
The last thing on his mind were two little words.
Two little words that echoed briefly and were promptly pushed aside as well, leaving behind steely determination where they had been.
Not happening.
...
They were still on the chair, except they were in various stages of undress. Their coupling had been fast and needy, and they were still panting. Alistair's trousers were bunched up at his feet, his smallclothes just under his knees. Chantalle's dress had been bunched over her waist, her smallclothes had been pushed down to her feet and now lay on the floor, and his hands were still grasping her hips.
He pulled her close and sighed into her ear, kissing the tip. He did the same to the other ear as well. Then, taking her face between his large hands he looked deeply into her eyes.
"I will never let you go." His voice was quiet, calm and composed.
"What if you do have to take the throne? What will happen to us?" She asked.
"I will never let you go," he repeated, this time enunciating every word. "Ever."
He stood up, picking her up so that she lay in his arms, and stepped out of his trousers and his smallclothes and carried her to the bed.
"I think you should read the letter, my love," she whispered.
"I don't want to read the letter," he murmured in between light-feathered kisses on her collarbone, trailing down to the valley of her breasts.
She mewled with pleasure, but then held his face in her hands and looked deeply in his eyes.
"You cannot run from this. You have to face it. Open the letter." She spoke softly but he heard the firmness in her words, and inwardly agreed with her.
He could not run from it.
Sighing, he got off the bed and went to where the letter lay and picked it up. Then went back to the bed, sitting on it. Taking a deep breath he broke the seal, opened it and began reading immediately, barely stifling a cry of disgust when he was done.
Alistair,
I know we did not part on the best of terms when we last spoke. However, I would like you to set aside our differences and try to understand what I am about to say.
Denerim is in turmoil right now. Anora is but a step away from becoming a tyrant and abusing her power. She has sent out missives to all the nobles asking for a Landsmeet to call for your arrest and immediate execution, based on the grounds that you have been preparing a surprise attack on Ferelden as you are in Orlais right now. She has the insane idea that you will seize the throne by force.
She is paranoid, just as much as her father was and will use the Landsmeet to convince the nobles that what you are doing in Orlais is pretty much declaring war on Ferelden and on her as a ruler.
I beg of you, please come forward and tell the nobles at the Landsmeet why you were away, the true reason behind your trip. I do not know what it is that you are doing there, but the fact that you left with a handful of wardens tells me that it has something to do with your order, and I hope that is the case.
You must bring together evidence of what you have been doing to the Landsmeet and you must oppose her.
And like it or not, you must take your place on your father's throne. This is your duty. You must do this for Ferelden.
Please consider what I have said.
The Landsmeet is taking place two days after Satinalia.
I hold no ill wishes upon you, dear boy, and hope you will come to your senses.
I do not wish a warrant for your arrest and execution to be sent out.
I await news from you eagerly.
Eamon Guerrin
Arl of Redcliffe
He sat there stunned at the words he had just finished reading. Chantalle put a comforting hand on his arm.
"Is it very bad?" She asked in a tremulous voice, dreading his reply.
He faced her, unshed tears glistening in his eyes.
"I will not let you go. Ever." He repeated, as he took in the sad look on her face.
"What did the letter say?"
"Let me handle it. You have to trust me, Chantalle. I will fix this, I promise," he replied quietly.
"Alistair, I want to know what that letter says," her voice a whisper.
"Queen Anora, who is Cailan's widow, wants to call a Landsmeet, right after Satinalia, which is in about a month." Glancing at the blank look on her face, he understood and went on to explain. "The Landsmeet is a gathering of all the nobles in Ferelden, to decide on what has to be done for the good of the country. Queen Anora has discovered I am here in Orlais. She is convinced I am calling upon the Orlesian forces to invade Ferelden in order to take up my 'rightful place' on the throne. She wants the Landsmeet to convene in order to put out a warrant for my arrest, and my execution." He paused for a moment at her sharp intake of breath.
"Eamon wants me to be there, during the Landsmeet, and put forth evidence that what I was doing here was strictly Grey Warden business. That would not be necessary, I'm sure word has already gotten out how we were here to stop the darkspawn attacks and how bad things had gotten before we managed to end the threat. However, I do have Leonie as a witness and fellow Grey Warden. She could help me out. I'm not worried about that at all. What I am worried about is the effect this could have on the nobles. They are going to want to depose Anora immediately and..."
He felt a lump in his throat and swallowed, keeping his eyes averted from her.
"They will want you to take your father's place as king," her soft voice ended the sentence for him.
There were no words to say to that, he could only nod miserably. It seemed that he would never be able to run from his birthright. It would always be there, causing him sorrow and discomfort, wherever he went.
"I don't want to become king. I never wanted the throne. I hate being in court. I just want to be a Grey Warden," he added miserably, looking down at the letter he held in his right hand.
When she didn't reply, he turned to look at her, and her clear blue eyes were regarding him curiously.
"What?"
"This Queen Anora is a bad ruler then?"
"Yes, it seems that way," he admitted.
"She is abusing her power?" Her next question did not surprise him.
"Yes, she is. Very much so."
"Alistair, you have to take the throne. You would never abuse your power. You would be a good, kind king. And Ferelden could change under your rule.
"I can't take the throne, Chantalle. I can't take it more than ever now, can't you see that?" He said, exasperation lading his voice.
"I do not understand. Maric, the king, was your father, was he not?" Her rosy lips puckered for a moment in thought.
"Yes. But my mother, Fiona, is an elf. I cannot take the throne. Nobody would want that, even if I am Maric's son. So it seems that they will not see me on the throne after all this is said and done with," he said in a firm voice, flinging the letter away. Then he took her in his arms, and began to kiss her.
She broke away from his kisses.
"They wouldn't have to know that. Fiona and everyone who is close to you could keep the secret," she said quietly.
"Chantalle, I told you. I am not taking the throne. That is not happening. Ever," he said again, and his voice held a hint of annoyance in it.
"We'll talk about this later, my love," she smiled, and when she did, her elusive dimple showed up again, but this time he bent down and captured it in a kiss.
"Hmmm," he said as his lips now traveled right down to the valley of her breasts again. "Now, where was I?"
...
The following day, he met with Fiona in her room. Alone.
"What is it, Commander?" She said in an amused tone.
He smiled but she instantly saw that his smile did not reach his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Alistair then held a parchment out to her.
"I received this yesterday," he said. "I want you to read it."
She sat down at her desk and read it quietly. When she was done, her brown eyes had darkened so much they looked black.
"Who is this Eamon Guerrin?"
"He's the man that Maric chose to raise me. I grew up there, in Redcliffe, till after I was ten. By then, the arl had remarried an Orlesian woman that was much younger than he. Isolde hated me. She convinced the arl to send me away to the Chantry, where I spent the next ten odd years of my life, training to become a Templar. He was the one who put me forward as a possible candidate to the throne, in order to rid Ferelden of Loghain."
"Loghain? Maric's best friend?"
Alistair bristled at her.
"Yes. I assume you heard about Ostagar? He is the man who betrayed Cailan and left him and the rest of the Ferelden Grey Wardens to die on the battlefield."
"I never did like him. He seemed like an angry, bitter man to me," she replied darkly.
"You - you met him?" He asked, disbelief and confusion in his voice.
Fiona sighed. After a while, she turned to him and motioned at the only other empty chair in the room.
"It's time we talked about how I met your father and why, Alistair. It's time you knew a little bit of the madness we were thrown into. You'd better sit down. This is going to be a long story."
...