Chapter 79: Blessings of the Maker
Her eyes slowly opened, revealing a room that was furnished simply. The cot she was lying on was comfortable even though the sheets and blankets were quite worn. It made them feel soft and comforting and they were nice and warm. The walls were unpainted stone, the only color in the furnishings found in a small rug next to the cot which, although it was very faded, showed that spring flowers had been woven into its original design. A small set of drawers stood against the inside wall and a simple wood chair and a small wooden table sat next to a small window. Delia didn't remember this room and had no idea where she was.
Delia was dressed in a simple linen nightgown. It was not a piece of clothing she owned, nor did she recognize it. She lay there looking around as she tried to remember how she might have gotten to this place or even how she was dressed in this fashion. Memories started to flood into her mind, reminding her that she had lost her one and only love as he destroyed the archdemon to save Ferelden. She remembered performing the ritual her grandfather told her Andraste had asked for, and she prayed that the Maker heard her pleas.
The door opened, and a young woman walked in. She carried a jug of water and a bowl and had a towel draped over her shoulder. The clothes she wore showed that she was an initiate of the Chantry. The woman set the bowl and jug on the dresser and walked over to the table, picking it up and moving it and the chair next to the cot. As she set them down she looked at Delia's face. Noticing her eyes were open, she sat on the chair and gently picked up Delia's hand with a warm smile.
"My lady, you've woken up. Maker be praised!"
Delia smiled back at her. The initiate seemed genuinely pleased to see her awake, and the only feelings Delia could feel from her were comfort and warmth. The woman was truly a believer in the Maker and took her Chantry studies and duties seriously.
"My… my name is Delia. Would you please tell me where I am?"
Her smile grew even broader. "Yes, my lady, I know who you are. You are the rightful Queen of Ferelden and you are in the Denerim Chantry. Your friends brought you here after the battle because we were one of the only buildings where the darkspawn did little damage. My name is Catriona, but my friends usually call me Cat because I can be very quiet when I move about the hallways. I was going to wash you, but since you are awake, allow me to get something for you to eat. I know your friend, Wynne, is anxious to see you as well. Would you like me to send her in?"
Delia nodded. "Yes, thank you, Cat. I would like to see Wynne, and I do find that I am rather hungry." She watched as the initiate stood and started to walk quietly to the door. As her hand reached the handle, Delia spoke once more. "Oh, and Cat, thank you. I mean it. I appreciate everything you have done for me."
Cat looked at her and nodded. "You are most welcome. I do the Maker's work, and it is my honor to be able to attend to you, my queen."
Cat left the room and Delia sat silently. "Well, at least Wynne is alive. That's a start," she thought to herself. She almost dreaded speaking to the mage. Which of her friends had survived? Her heart ached badly enough for her husband, but to lose any of her other friends, her adopted family, would completely destroy her.
A soft knock on the door preceded Wynne's entrance. The elder mage smiled broadly as she walked over to Delia and hugged her warmly. She sat on the chair and took Delia's hand into her own.
"How are you feeling, my dear girl? You have been through quite a trauma."
Delia looked down. "I… I suppose that's one way to put it. What happened to me? How did I get here?"
"You were struck by lightning. Zevran carried you here. You are a very lucky woman to have survived."
Fear suddenly took over as Delia's hands clasped her abdomen. "What about the baby? Is he…?"
Wynne smiled and with a soft chuckle she nodded. "The baby is fine. You both are. However, there are many people who are worried sick about both of you and would like to see you. Do you feel well enough for a walk in the garden? The fresh air would be good for you."
Wynne walked to the dresser and opened a drawer, removing a fresh tunic and breeches. Delia recognized them as garments she had packed into her own pack.
"Wynne, where is the rest of my pack?" Her eyes darted around the room.
Wynne reached down at the side of the dresser and picked the pack up, handing it to Delia along with the clothes. "Why don't you get dressed? I'm sure that Cat will be back shortly with some food. We can eat and then go to the garden."
Delia grinned and nodded. "That sounds good. I… I can't wait to see the… others."
Wynne nodded and walked to the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
Once Wynne was gone, Delia dressed slowly. Her body ached, and her chest and foot showed the evidence of her brush with lightning. It was difficult to get her arms through the garment, but once she had the clothes on she found her boots at the foot of the cot and put them on as well. Then she sat on the cot with her pack and searched. Inside she found the small box keeping Alistair's rose safe. Opening the box, she gently removed the rose and touched the soft petals. "It reminded me of you, actually…" His voice, in her memory, made her cry again, as the heartache tried to take her over completely. She brushed away her tears and kissed the rose before returning it to the box. Her rings were still on, the ironwood rings on her hand and the dwarven stone ring intact on its necklace. "I only have these… things… left to remind me of you…"
Cat arrived with some soup and bread, with Wynne following behind her carrying another chair. They sat at the small table to eat, neither of them speaking. When they finished, Wynne offered her arm to her friend to help support her. The two walked out of the room and down the hallway a short distance until they reached the door to the garden. A cloak rack stood next to the door, and Wynne helped Delia wrap a warm woolen cloak around her shoulders before they went outside.
It was a beautiful day, and the sun was warming the air nicely, especially within the enclosed garden. There were some flowers blooming near a statue of Andraste, and Wynne assisted Delia to a bench nearby.
"Rest here, child, while I find everyone else. I'll be right back." Wynne gave her a hug and walked back to the Chantry leaving Delia alone with the statue.
She just sat there, looking at the Maker's bride. "Dear Andraste, I hope the Maker heard our prayers. I don't know how I'll manage without Alistair here, but if Ferelden has hope at least his sacrifice won't have been in vain."
Delia reached out and picked a flower. It was a tulip, as red as the rose Alistair had given to her. Tulips had always seemed to be so delicate in comparison to a rose. The rose defended itself with the thorns that would grow on its stems while the tulip was easy prey for the rabbits and deer that seemed to find the flower an irresistible delicacy. Right now Delia felt as vulnerable as the tulip. There was no longer anyone to protect her, not the way Alistair had.
As she held the flower in her hand and contemplated what had become of her life, the door opened and closed behind her. She didn't turn her head, deciding her friends would make themselves known. She heard what sounded like a single set of footsteps walking toward her, the heaviness of the steps making her think it was Trent who was coming to her.
"Delia…"
The voice was unexpected. Her entire body stiffened in response. It couldn't be true… it wasn't possible.
"Delia, I've been so worried. Thank the Maker you are alright."
She turned around slowly. She couldn't believe who she saw standing there. It was Alistair! He was wearing soft leather breeches and his black doublet with a cloak pulled around for warmth. He smiled at her and strode quickly to her, pulling her up and into his arms.
Delia pushed back gently so she could see his face. Her hand trembled as it moved to his cheek, softly trailing along his cheekbone and down to his jaw. His smile seemed to be as bright as the sun itself as he chuckled.
"But… you were dead!" she whispered. "You killed the archdemon and you sacrificed yourself! How is this possible?"
"Fooled you, did I?" he laughed huskily as he kissed her.
As the two held each other Delia started to sob uncontrollably. Alistair looked at her with concern.
"Love, what's wrong? What did I do?" He kissed her forehead and sat on the bench with her.
"It's just… the Maker gave me a choice. I could save Ferelden or… you. And…" A sob choked her voice as Alistair shushed her.
"I know. She told me." He held her close and ran his hands through her hair.
"She? She who? I didn't tell anyone."
Alistair pushed her to arm's length so he could look directly into her eyes. "You know I killed the archdemon for Ferelden, right? Well, just before I ran to thrust my blade into its skull, I prayed that the Maker would watch over you and our child, but I also asked for Him to heal our country and its peoples. I think I impressed him." He looked at her with his lopsided smile. "Anyway, I pushed my sword into the skull as far as possible, and then this blinding light seemed to take over. I was… floating, for lack of a better word, but I was all over Ferelden. I saw the entire country. And I saw you, running through the retreating horde. I wanted to stop you, for your safety, but I couldn't do anything. Then you performed your ritual, and when you put the Maker's mark on my forehead my spirit was suddenly pulled together and I was standing in the Fade. Your mother was there. She told me what Andraste had asked you to do, and when you prayed to the Maker, he was moved by you and your sincerity. You asked Him to heed Andraste's prayers as well as your own, so he granted her a boon. So here I am, Andraste's special gift to you. That's when She sent the lightning bolt. The power had to pass through you in order to give me my life back."
"My mother told you that? In the Fade?" She searched his eyes for something hidden, but even her talent was telling her that he was being completely honest.
"Yes, and may I say that although she is quite a beautiful woman in her own right, you are far more beautiful. Then again, I may be prejudiced, just a little. You did, however, inherit your gorgeous eyes from her."
They both laughed and Delia threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He recoiled in pain.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked in surprise.
"Just a little. I was left with an interesting wound, the scars from which will give me fodder for many a tale in the years to come. The archdemon grabbed me in its teeth, and the bite is still healing. Wynne has been working on it, and hopefully it will be better soon."
Delia pulled his shirt up to see the wounds. A series of punctures crossed his chest and abdomen. The line should have also had a wound centered on his heart, but there was no hole there.
"Did you knock out one of its teeth? It seems like a tooth was missing there," she touched the center of his chest in the line of marks, "No hole, just a bruise."
"Funny thing about that… and another reason why the Maker saved me actually." He pulled something from his pocket. It was the embroidered heart Delia made for him in Orzammar. "You see, I always put this over my own heart. It seems to have protected my own heart from the dragon's tooth. If it hadn't been there, I would have been dead before I could have killed the monster. I'm sorry it's so damaged, love."
Delia took the torn object from him and looked at it in amazement. "I'm not sorry at all. If this is what saved you, it also saved our country. I can't believe that something so… insignificant did something so amazing! I'll make you another one. It will be far more beautiful, I promise."
He took the heart back with a teasing look of astonishment. "You can make another, but you can never replace this one. This one came simply from your love, and that's what protected me. I want you to repair this one and I want to keep it with me always, just as I have kept it since you gave it to me. It has kept me safe and allowed me to keep my promise to come back to you. There is no replacement for your love. It was the strength of your love that convinced the Maker to give me back to you as a reward for your faith."
Alistair pulled her close and kissed her again, this time more deeply than she remembered him ever doing before. It was a kiss meant to show how significant she was to him, how he treasured her and her love more than any riches or power. He would not take this opportunity to have his wife and child for granted. He promised the Maker that a day wouldn't go by without his showing his appreciation for the blessings bestowed on him.
The two sat in the garden, holding each other and kissing, until the sun started to set. Then the two walked together, hand in hand, back inside. Neither of them could wait to be reunited with their friends, the people they had chosen to be their family. They couldn't believe the many blessings the Maker had granted to them, especially when Delia was informed that no one from their party had been killed in the battle except for Riordan. Plans for his pyre could wait until after they had their reunion. The morning would mean a return to duty and responsibilities, but this night they would enjoy simply being alive and with the people they loved the most.