Chapter 42: The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything
Aeden led his companions as close as they dared to Ostagar, but needed to find a safe place to set up camp in order to keep the horses safe from the darkspawn. They found a spot about an hour's walk outside the ruins that seemed to be relatively safe. Once the horses were safe, Aeden started for the ruins with Alistair, Sten, Wynne and Delia.
They walked south along the Imperial Highway. Delia couldn't help but remember when she first arrived at Ostagar. Her losses were so fresh at that time and she really had no idea what joining the Grey Wardens would truly mean. Since then she found so much more than she ever had anticipated. Her new 'family' was very close knit, and she had never before felt as if she was such an integral part of the whole.
It wasn't long before the ruins showed themselves through the remains of the forest. Alistair looked as if he was ill, so Delia took his hand and smiled at him, knowing words couldn't convey the support that her actions would. He squeezed her hand and smiled sadly back as they continued down the road.
As they entered the ruins, the wardens sensed the darkspawn almost immediately. They had to fight wave after wave of the monsters, but they were able to defeat them easily. Alistair was visibly upset when they discovered Cailan's armor had been distributed among the higher ranked monstrosities. Delia carefully placed each piece of armor into her pack as they recovered them, knowing she would be spending many hours cleaning it and making certain it was restored to its former luster for Alistair.
The map they had received from Elrich proved to be accurate and the key to Cailan's chest was recovered easily. Aeden led them through the makeshift walls erected by the darkspawn toward where the Royal Encampment had been located. As they made their way there, they found the remains of Duncan's camp. The darkspawn had desecrated it, making it into an almost demonic altar. It took all of their concentration to not be sickened by the sight, and they continued to the royal area.
Cailan's chest was intact, although it looked as if the darkspawn had tried to break it open. Alistair used the key to open the lock, and then pried the door open the rest of the way. Inside he found the documents Elrich had spoken of as well as Maric's sword. He ran his hand along the blade, looking at it wistfully.
"A copper for your thoughts, love," Delia asked as she put her hand on his arm. "Are you alright?"
"It's just so… difficult. Cailan was a good man, perhaps a bit idealistic, but he didn't deserve this. And then here is my father's sword. It never should have been in my hands, but here it is and there is no one else who deserves it more than I do, simply by default. I wish I could have known them both. I mean… to have had a father and a brother… I would have really liked that."
"I know, my love. For some reason The Maker had another path for you, and his reasons may not ever be clear to us, but there is a reason. You must have faith in that. Come now, we had best be moving. I'm certain there are many more darkspawn about."
He nodded his head. "Yes, I can sense them – too many to count, but they seem to be in small clusters." With a sigh, he allowed her to lead him toward the bridge that crossed the battlefield to the Tower of Ishal.
As they crossed the bridge, Aeden, Alistair and Delia were all lost in their thoughts. They remembered running across the bridge under heavy fire the night of the battle. It seemed that all their memories flooded back in an instant, but then they were stopped in mid-step by a gruesome sight. The darkspawn had taken the corpse of the king and impaled it on a series of poles.
Knowing they had to kill the darkspawn before anything else, Alistair kneeled at the base of the bizarre shrine. "You deserved so much better, my brother. I promise that we will return and give you a proper pyre as soon as we can."
He stood and continued the walk toward the tower. As they neared the other side of the bridge, another group of darkspawn attacked. It seemed as though one of them was a special emissary – one with greater abilities than they had seen before. It ran away from them, leaving various grunts to battle. Once they crossed the bridge they found more pockets of darkspawn which the party dispatched quickly.
As they walked the final distance to the Tower of Ishal, Alistair reached once more for Delia's hand. Everything seemed as if it were a nightmare to him. Perhaps he would wake up and find himself once more back in the Chantry before he had ever met Duncan? No, he didn't want that to happen. He actually was beginning to understand that fate had brought them all here at this time for a purpose. As he looked into Delia's eyes before Aeden opened the door to the tower, Alistair realized for himself how much strength she had given to him in the short time they had known each other. The smile he gave her radiated that strength, and she was surprised at how powerful he seemed in that moment.
They entered the tower and continued to kill darkspawn as they made their way through the first floor rooms. Aeden led them to the hole in the floor they had discovered the night of the battle, and the five carefully climbed down. There were a series of tunnels under the tower that no one seemed to have been aware of. More darkspawn attacked, as well as corrupted spiders. The spiders were the one thing that really bothered Delia – their webs would get stuck in her hair and she couldn't get them out without help. Alistair would usually oblige, even though he would be laughing at her while he pulled them out.
Finally they located a hole in the wall that led out to the battlefield. Corpses were strewn everywhere, and the stench was overwhelming. Choking back their nausea, they made their way to the center of the field where they found the corpse of an ogre with Duncan's sword and dagger still implanted in its chest. As they moved toward the corpse to retrieve the blades, the powerful emissary appeared. Chanting a spell, it reanimated the dead ogre and as it charged the group the emissary reanimated the corpses that lay on the battlefield.
The three warriors split up their talents with Sten battling the undead while Aeden and Alistair focused on the ogre. Delia protected Wynne, allowing the mage to spend her energy healing the warriors instead of protecting herself. The emissary continued to animate the corpses surrounding the party, and finally their numbers threatened to overwhelm them! As Aeden shifted his fight to kill more of the undead, the ogre grabbed Alistair. His shriek of pain forced Delia's attention to shift away from Wynne to him.
Seeing her love being squeezed to his death was not something she wanted to ever see. A sudden surge of energy overtook her and she ran straight at the beast, leaping into the air and thrusting her blades into the monster's decaying chest. As the ogre fell onto its back, Delia twisted her blades, her anger channeling into a strength she never had seen in herself before. Once she was convince the creature was dead, she leaped off and ran to Alistair.
Sten and Aeden had killed the last of the undead and were battling the emissary. They didn't seem to need any more help, so Delia focused on Alistair, pulling healing poultices from her bag.
She gently lifted his head into her lap and poured a potion into his mouth. "Alistair? Can you hear me? Please, love, talk to me… I need to hear your voice."
A tear fell from her eye onto his face, and his hand wiped it away before he thought about it. "Whoops… well, I guess you know I'm alright then… and I was hoping to have all your sympathy."
Delia pushed his head off her lap and stood up angrily. "I thought that thing had killed you, and you're going to make fun of me? Now? Why would you do something so… so cruel!"
Alistair stood up with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, darling, I just couldn't help myself. After you saved me from the ogre's clutches, it only seemed the only thing I could possible do is swoon in front of your amazing self." He smiled broadly and, taking her hand in his, kissed her softly on her knuckles, then turned her hand over and kissed her palm. "You truly are the most amazing woman, Delia," he whispered into her ear before he put his arms around her and drew her into a lingering kiss.
Wynne watched the two from across the field, her demeanor softening from the battle into a more sentimental mood.
"Ah, young love," she said to herself as she watched the two lovers.
Upon hearing the mage's comment, Aeden looked across to see the two kissing. Smiling mischievously, he whistled loudly before calling over to them. "Alright, enough you two. We still have work to do here. Wait until you're back at camp and we can ignore you!"
Both Alistair and Delia blushed as they released each other. They retrieved Duncan's blades from the ogre's corpse before they followed the other three back to the tower's tunnels, keeping their distance from Sten who was glaring at them in a way that left them both feeling like teenagers caught by their father.
They walked back to where Cailan's body hung. As they drew closer, Wynne noticed Alistair's discomfort and put her hand on his shoulder.
"Alistair, are you all right?" she asked with concern in her tone.
"Ugh. They left him here to rot. We need to do something."
Aeden nodded his head. "He is of royal blood and deserves a pyre."
Alistair looked up at his brother, a sorrowful look on his face. "He was a good man who hoped too much and died too young. He deserves what little honor we can afford to give him."
Sten walked up to the king's body and started the process of removing it from the poles. Before long he was able to set Cailan down on the ground. They used the poles to form the foundation of the funeral pyre, and then searched for the rest of the wood needed around the outside of the ruins.
Once Cailan's corpse was laid on the pyre, Delia arranged his arms and legs in a proper manner. Alistair recited appropriate prayers for the dead while the group kneeled in front of the pyre. Then he stood and turned toward his friends.
"I wish I could have known my brother better. I suppose I'm fortunate to have spoken to him at all, given my own history." He nervously ran his hand through his hair as the rest of the party stood. "The first time I met him was when I was a young boy. He barely acknowledged my presence, but that was fine by me at the time. At least I had one conversation with him that I can remember. It was the day before Duncan returned from Highever with the two of you." He smiled at Delia and Aeden. "Cailan requested I join him for tea, and he asked me about my life in the Chantry and how I became a warden. He seemed duly impressed that I was a member of the Grey Wardens; of course that's because he idolized them so very much.
I would like to think if my life had been different, I would have been close to him, as you were, Aeden and Delia, to your brothers. I sit and listen to your stories and wonder what it would have been like, had Maric raised me as his own child." He turned and looked sadly at the corpse. "I'll never know if we would have been friends, but I make this promise to you, my brother. I will do everything in my power to unite Ferelden and protect her against the Blight and the Archdemon. You will be proud of me."
Alistair reached for a nearby torch and lit the pyre. As the flames rose higher and hotter, Delia went to his side and slipped her arm around his waist. She stood on her toes so that she could whisper in his ear, "I'm certain he already is proud of you. You will be a wonderful king."
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head and they stood together as they watched the pyre burn. After they stood for a time, Wynne convinced them to sit across from the fire with the rest of the group. They stayed until the fire burned itself out, and then brought torches with them as they made their way back up the Imperial Highway to the campsite.
Although they arrived late in the evening, Leliana made sure there was plenty of stew for them to eat. They sat at the fire, eating their dinner in near silence, each one replaying the events of the day in their own minds. Aeden spent time explaining everything that had happened to those that had remained at the camp so that they would understand Alistair's pensive mood and give him time to grieve.
They had been able to give Cailan a proper send-off to the Maker, but there was no sign of Duncan's remains. All they had were Duncan's sword and dagger. Alistair's grief for his mentor was like a newly opened scar, but he tried to be strong. He had to be strong. His life was changing, whether it would be better or worse would be up to him, as he needed to become the king he never expected to be.
Alistair sat, staring at the fire with Delia in his arms leaning against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, causing her to snuggle closer to him. He made a decision right then – he needed Delia to be his wife, no matter what. She made him complete and gave him the strength and courage he never had before. Delia made him want to be a good… no, a great king. He wanted to make Ferelden the most wonderful country in all of Thedas! One thing that was clear to him was that he couldn't do it without her at his side. It was time to plan a proposal, not that he knew what to do, but he knew it had to be meaningful and honest. She gave meaning to his life, and he wanted to show her every day just how precious she was to him.