Chapter 77: Rituals
Dinner was served for all the visitors at Redcliffe Castle at the same time, so the cooks kept the meal to a simple stew and bread. The dining room was bustling with soldiers and townspeople, so Aeden made a recommendation to his friends that they take their meals and remove themselves to Eamon's study. At least there would be room enough for their group there, even if there wouldn't be enough chairs for everyone.
They actually enjoyed themselves as their conversation flowed from battle strategies to good natured teasing. When Leliana finished eating she brought out her lute and played for her friends' entertainment. Aeden sat listening to her nearly in a trance. Although he hadn't said anything to her, he realized he was becoming more and more intrigued by the beautiful bard, and he started to hope that after the Blight he might be able to pursue a more personal relationship with her. Those hopes had to wait, however, because his sense of duty forced him to keep his own desires hidden.
The easy banter was suddenly stopped when Riordan entered the room and asked the two wardens to join him. Delia gave Alistair a gentle smile and squeezed his hand as he stood, looking apologetically at her. Something felt wrong to Delia. There was a secret that Riordan was keeping from them – she could feel it. She wished she could tell what it was, but Riordan had been in the wardens for so long that secrets were well hidden in his mind.
A short time after the wardens left the room, Morrigan stood and walked out of the room. No one really took much notice, as she usually would leave the group after their meals without saying anything, but Delia watched her as she seemed to almost stalk out of the room, like a cat on the prowl. The mage was being very guarded about her thoughts, and Delia couldn't feel what her plans were any better than she could read the senior warden. Her instincts made her feel uneasy, but she tried to relax to the sounds of the soft strumming of Leliana's lute.
An hour passed without the wardens' return, and Delia was unhappy. She didn't think their meeting should have taken that long, but she didn't want to interrupt them. Instead, she called the two dogs and excused herself from the group, saying she would take the dogs for a short walk outside for some fresh air. Soldiers were milling about in the courtyard, their tents and campfires a reminder of how full the castle was after the darkspawn invasion in the town. Delia walked down the stairs and over to a large tree. As the two dogs played, she sat with her back against the tree trunk. She never realized that she had company until it was too late.
"My, my, what have we here? I would have thought you would still be with everyone else as they try their hardest to forget the horrors we shall be facing in the next few days." Morrigan seemed to have come from nowhere, and her catlike movements unnerved Delia.
"I simply came outside for some fresh air and to allow the dogs a chance to exercise. They needed to run before it's time for bed."
"Since you are here, might I have a word with you?" The mage moved slowly toward Delia, seeming to stalk her prey.
"Is everything alright, Morrigan? You seem… troubled."
"I am well. 'Tis you who are in danger. There is a reason why a Grey Warden is required to kill the archdemon, you see. A secret that the wardens will not divulge, however I know it for my mother told it to me. You see, when the archdemon dies its soul, its very essence, travels to the nearest being containing the darkspawn taint. A warden must sacrifice themself so that the archdemon's soul will be destroyed as it attempts to take the warden's body. Because the warden's body has a soul already inside, both the warden's and the archdemon's souls are shattered. Should the archdemon's soul enter a darkspawn as its host, the darkspawn shall not retreat as the archdemon's essence is still intact, leading the horde to further battle."
Delia's jaw dropped. "So, one of the wardens must die then?"
Morrigan nodded. "Yes, however, I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole."
Morrigan circled around Delia, her yellow eyes never leaving the queen's face. "There is a ritual that if performed on the eve of battle offers a way out for all the wardens."
Delia looked at her suspiciously. "Just what sort of ritual is this?"
"It is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi existed."
"And what is required to perform this ritual of yours?"
Morrigan smiled eerily. "You must convince Alistair to lay with me. Here, tonight. And from this ritual a child will be conceived within me. The child will bear the taint, and when the archdemon is slain its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb the essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no grey wardens dying in the process."
Delia's eyes narrowed skeptically. "And why are you speaking to me of this? Shouldn't you be speaking to the wardens about it? And why does it have to be my husband who impregnates you? Why not Riordan or Aeden?"
"Riordan would not be suitable. He has been a warden for too long. The father must have become tainted as recently as possible. I have already spoken to Aeden. Unfortunately, he has not accepted my proposal. That leaves Alistair."
"Why are you speaking to me then? Shouldn't you be convincing him?" she asked guardedly.
"Alistair despises me. You know this. He rarely listens to reason… but he would listen to you. You of all people could influence him."
Delia's hand moved unconsciously to her own abdomen. "And what of my child? Wouldn't my child be this beacon for the archdemon's essence?"
Morrigan shook her head. "No, your child has developed too far already. Your body will have removed most of the taint from it and the archdemon will not sense it. The child for this ritual must be conceived the night before the battle."
Delia stood up and looked the mage straight in her eye. "It is not my place to tell my husband what decisions he should make for his country's sake. It seems to me that the wardens have refused your offer and you are unwilling to take your appeal directly to the king. If you wish for him to take part in this ritual of yours, it is his decision to make, not mine. I am curious, however, what would become of this child when it's born?"
Morrigan looked at her with a smug determination. "The child shall be mine to raise by myself. I shall disappear and you shall not see me again, nor shall you seek to find me."
"And what is this child to become? Will you have your child attempt to remove mine from the throne? You could completely destroy whatever stability we can give to Ferelden! And what of this old god? What assurance can you give that the child will not be evil? Have you thought of that? You are asking far too much… you are asking me to put the future of this entire country in your hands."
"That is not what I wish. It is simply giving freedom to an ancient power. Is there no beauty in that?" the mage spat angrily.
Delia's eyes flashed in anger. "It is an ancient power that could destroy everything we have worked to save. I will not help you, Morrigan. Convince the wardens yourself, or not at all."
As Delia whistled to the dogs and stormed toward the castle doors, Morrigan called after her. "You are a fool. I offer you a way to save your husband and his friend. Die if you feel it is worthwhile. I will not stand by and watch you waste this opportunity."
Delia ignored the ranting of the mage as she slammed the door behind her. She ran through the halls of the castle to her quarters, hoping to find her husband there. As she burst through the doors, she found that he was indeed there, speaking to Aeden. Both of the men looked distressed, and her own facial expression must have divulged her own angst. Alistair rushed to her and pulled her into his arms.
"What's wrong, love?" he asked softly as he ran his fingers through her hair.
"It's Morrigan. She wants me to ask you to take part in an ancient ritual tonight so that the essence of the ancient god can be saved when you slay the archdemon." Delia shuddered and Alistair hugged her closer.
"Aeden and I were just discussing that very ritual. I suppose that since he said no, she decided to appeal to you to convince me?" He spoke soothingly and tried to stay calm.
Delia nodded. "Yes… I have to ask, Alistair, when did you learn about… what happens when the archdemon is killed? Have you been hiding that from me all along?" Her words came out in between sobs as she tried unsuccessfully to keep herself from crying.
"Actually, that is what Riordan wanted to talk to us about tonight. I swear to you, my heart, that I didn't know. I would have told you." He pulled her even tighter into his embrace as her sobs increased.
Aeden put his hand on her shoulder. "If it's any consolation to you, Delia, Riordan will be trying to take the killing blow himself. If he fails, it falls to me. I will not fail, I promise you."
He looked at his friend. Alistair's eyes showed his own despair. eHe Here Alistair was, the newly appointed king, with a wife and child on the way, and he could lose everything he finally had – the family he had always wanted. Aeden's own heart was breaking for both of them. He knew that there were no guarantees as to which warden would die to end the Blight. Maker knew that it was possible that they would all three fail!
"I… I'll leave you two alone. We'll talk tomorrow at breakfast. Try to sleep, both of you." Aeden walked out of the room, motioning to Dusty to follow.
Once the door was closed, Alistair led his wife to a chair nearest the fireplace and pulled her onto his lap. They sat there simply holding each other for a long time as they allowed their fear and grief to work through their systems. When they finally relaxed, Alistair undressed himself and his wife. He took her to bed. Both of them needed to feel each other and how alive they were. They almost were studying each other's bodies, as if they needed to memorize every contour, every scar, even the odd looking moles. Finally they exhausted themselves and fell into sleep as they embraced.
Delia found herself outside of her grandfather's hunting cabin. A mist had risen from the lake, making everything look strangely translucent. As she looked around, a voice called to her from the cabin.
"Delia? Are you there?"
She turned to the cabin and as she thought she was walking toward it she found herself instead inside. Standing in front of her was her beloved grandfather, smiling at her warmly.
"Grandfather! I… I thought I would never see you again!" She pulled him into a hug, feeling happier than she had in ages. "I've missed you so much."
"And I've missed you, my dear child." He pushed her to arm's length and smiled. "I suppose you aren't really a child anymore, especially since you are expecting one of your own."
Delia laughed. "I will always be your 'dear child'. But, this can't be real, can it? You're dead, so how can I be seeing you?"
"We are in the Fade. I've been asked to give you a very important message, one that will determine the very fate of Ferelden."
She looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"
He sat in his favorite chair with a sigh. Delia sat next to him and looked around. Everything was exactly as she remembered in the room. The walls had paintings of his favorite mabari and one of the battles he fought in the Orlesian War. The floor was covered in a rug crafted from the skin and fur of a huge bear her grandfather had killed in the Frostback Mountains. Everything felt so comforting and, dare she think it, normal.
"Delia, I know that you were told about why the Grey Wardens are needed to kill the archdemon. What you don't know is that you will be forced to make an awful decision. You will decide whether you wish to save Alistair's life or to rebuild Ferelden."
Delia looked at her grandfather in shock. "What do you mean? How can I save either?"
"I was asked to speak to you on behalf of Andraste herself. She is most impressed with you and your friends," he said with a proud smile. "You were able to pass through her gauntlet and save Arl Eamon with her ashes after you determined how to administer them properly. You reached out to the Dalish elves and forged friendships that haven't existed since Andraste's days. You and your friends have forged your way with seemingly insurmountable odds to form alliances for one purpose – to save Ferelden. Now you must do what you must to save the country from this Blight."
He stood and paced in front of the fireplace. "You still have some of the ashes, correct?" As Delia nodded, he continued. "You can use the ashes to either save Alistair, or to save your country. The Blight has devastated the land. To perform your duty means that you cannot save Alistair's life. There is a ritual you must perform after the archdemon is dead. You can save Alistair's soul this way, but his life will be forfeit."
"Save his soul?" Delia looked baffled.
"Yes. You see, when the archdemon's essence tries to enter his body, both souls are shattered. If you administer the ashes to Alistair, you will restore his soul to his body and it will be repaired, but the land will still be blighted and will not recover for hundreds of years. Your duty is to Ferelden and you must perform the ritual as Andraste wishes. She will repair Alistair's soul in return, but he will remain in the Golden Kingdom and you may not reunite with him until your own natural death."
Delia wiped away a tear. No matter what she did, she knew her husband would die in the battle. "Tell me what I need to do."
"You must get to Alistair's body. Stand above him and spread the remainder of the ashes to the four winds. Pray while you do this that the Maker will restore the land and its people. The words must come from your own heart. Then you must take the remainder of the ointment you created for Eamon and mark Alistair's forehead with the Maker's mark as you ask the Maker to restore his soul. Then you must take the Tears of Andraste and open the stopper and drip one drop onto the mark you just made. That will seal the mark and complete the ritual. The Tears themselves must be brought to Haven as soon as possible. They are to have a special chest created for them by the Dalish elves to be made from Ironwood. The mark of the Maker is to be inlaid on the lid using silverite. You will need to be the one to make the pilgrimage to place them alongside the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and you must speak to the Guardian to seal the room where they are kept. Pilgrims will be allowed to visit the Temple, but no one will be allowed to touch the relics ever again."
Delia nodded and wiped her tears from her cheeks. "I give my oath, Grandfather, that I will perform my duty. Ferelden will be cleansed." The words of the Grey Warden's motto rang in her ears: "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice."
Bann Alfred walked to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her gently on her forehead and wiped the tears from her face. "I know you will do your duty, no matter how it breaks your heart. I am so proud of you, as is your mother. We will watch over you, my dear child, and you shall be a fine regent for your child until he is able to reign."
"He?" She looked at her grandfather's face as he smiled yet again.
"Yes, you are having a son. And he will be the image of his father, so there will be no question that he is a Theirin. Teagan will be a fine advisor for you, as will Aeden. Keep them close. You shall need Trent and Zevran for your security. They will keep you safe. I promise that you will have some joy in your future." He hugged his granddaughter close. "I love you, my dear child. Have faith and the Maker will reward you. May he watch over you and keep you safe."
The world around her seemed to dwindle into a mist as Delia's eyes opened. She was still in her bed with Alistair's arms around her. Now she knew that this would be her last night with him, and her tears started again. Even though she tried to be silent, Alistair woke up.
"He-ey… why are you crying?" He kissed away the tears and pulled her against his chest.
"I… I'm just afraid. Let's just try to sleep. Just… hold me close, would you please?"
"Your desire is my command," he purred as his arms wound around her.