Author's Note: Well I got a new chapter up sooner than I expected! The muse is really pushing me on this one and so I keep writing lol. This one is from Ayla's POV, and we finally get to the end of Lothering here. Next one is going to be from Alistair's POV. If anybody has a preference for POVs for certain events, please let me know and I'll try to accommodate. (IE if you want to see Brecilian Forest from Alistair's POV, or Orzammar from Ayla's POV, etc.)
As always, thanks to those who have favorited and followed so far, really glad you're enjoying the story! Special thanks as always goes to those who have submitted reviews, especially to Arialla MacAllister for her nice long review of Chapter 7 :). I would love it if more people could submit reviews, I'm like a kid at Christmas with those! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Bioware owns Thedas, I own Fallor.
Lothering, Part 2
While the others settled themselves down to sleep, Ayla sat by the door to the barn. She'd left it partially cracked so she could see through it to the town beyond. She took one of her swords out and laid it across her lap. She'd often found that even the small advantage afforded by having one weapon already out saved enough time and effort to be more than worth it.
Not for the first time, as she peered into the darkness beyond, she was grateful for the heightened senses her powers offered her. As with everyone in Fallor who had successfully gained an animal kin, she had certain abilities available to her even when she wasn't in her animal form. In her case, it was an increase in smell, hearing, and eyesight, which often came in handy.
As the darkness grew more complete, however, she decided to try something she hadn't put into practice yet in Ferelden. If one's control over their shape-shifting was good enough, they could change just one part of themselves as needed. She'd been fortunate enough to learn how to shift just her eyes, so she could see better in the dark. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and brought the image to mind, allowing the change to pass over just her eyes. When she opened her eyes, she was both pleased and relieved to find that it had worked; she could make out everything in the town now as clearly as if it were day.
So, that answered one question for her. She could still shift in Ferelden, though the world was not her own. However, she still didn't know if it would be a good idea to do so. Even in Fallor, and the other countries of her world, the gift of shape-shifting was looked on with suspicion by those who didn't possess it. That was in a place where it was widely known, and acknowledged; she didn't think it would be any better here. Many people also thought shifters were little better than wild animals themselves, due to their instincts and powers, and some even called them demons.
She admitted it could be difficult to control the animal inside sometimes; it was the animal's rage at losing its pack, combined with her own human grief, loss, and rage, that made her so unstable when it came to bandits. But that didn't mean that she was incapable of controlling it, or that shifters were any less human, in her mind. And she was willing to deal with the challenges of control, if it meant gaining the powers necessary to make her more of a threat on the battlefield. As far as she was concerned, it was due to the shifters that Fallor, in spite of being such a small country, had never been successfully taken over. She wondered what Alistair would think. Would he still want her, if he knew she was a shifter?
It was then that she picked up on a noise behind her. She realized, as she listened more closely, that it had been long enough since she'd started watch that everyone had fallen asleep. About an hour, maybe? But the rhythm of Alistair's breathing had changed. It had gone from slow and steady to rapid and shallow; he was also tossing and turning in his sleep. It was when she caught the whisper of "Duncan, no . . ." that she realized he was in the throes of a nightmare.
She took a long look out at the darkness, to make sure there was nothing nearby, before going to wake him up. She didn't want to leave him to suffer. Fortunately, he'd chosen a pile of hay nearest to her and the door; she should be able to wake him up without disturbing the others. She let the change slip out of her eyes as she quietly crept over to him, bringing the lamp with her in her empty hand so he'd be able to see who it was. It wouldn't do to have him open his eyes and see an animal's eyes reflected back at him, or not know who was trying to wake him up.
She crouched down next to him, and shook his shoulder. He'd left his armor on, which she recognized as a soldier's habit; never knew what might face you when you woke up, after all. His gauntlets, sword and shield were lying off to the side, however. "Alistair, wake up," she hissed.
Like any good soldier, he woke up immediately, jerking up so fast their heads almost smashed together. Luckily, she was fast enough to rear back in time. He looked around frantically for a second, hand groping automatically for his sword, before his hazel eyes met hers. "Ayla? Is something wrong?"
"No." She shook her head, keeping her voice low. "You were having a nightmare; I thought you might appreciate an interruption."
He blinked, putting a hand to his forehead as he gathered himself. "Yes, I guess I was. Thank you."
"No problem." She straightened up, taking the lamp and her sword with her again as she went back to the door. She sank down into her seated position, sword across her knees, as she scanned the darkness again, straining her hearing as well. She was surprised and pleased to hear Alistair approaching her from behind, trying to keep the clank of his armor as quiet as possible.
He sat down next to her, only a few inches away, so that heat thrummed through her body at his nearness. He smelled good, as well, she realized, like fresh pine and male. But as he turned to look at her, she noticed how haunted his eyes were, and realized now wasn't the time for that.
"I don't know if I could sleep just now," he murmured in answer to her questioning look. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?"
"Of course not," she reassured him. She thought for a moment, before deciding it might help him to talk, if he was able to do so now. "Do you want to talk about it? About Duncan and the others, I mean?"
He looked startled, and took a deep breath, looking away. Just as she'd decided he wasn't going to answer, he finally spoke. "You don't have to do that; I know you didn't know him very long at all, and you didn't meet any of the others."
Well, he was talking; it was a start at least. She knew that even someone who liked to be alone with their grief, as she did, would eventually need to talk about it before they exploded. "That doesn't matter. It's not about me; it's about you and what you need. If you need to talk, I'm here to listen whenever you're ready. I understand that they meant a lot to you."
He took a shaky breath, still not meeting her eyes. "I should have handled it better. Duncan warned me right from the beginning that something like this could happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us; not with the Blight and everything. I'm sorry." He finally looked at her with this statement, his hazel eyes dark with crushing grief.
She reached for his hand, laying her own over top of it. The leather gloves she wore were fingerless, so for the first time, they were touching skin to skin. It felt like fire spread through her body from where she touched him, especially when he flipped his hand over and twined his fingers through hers. It was a little terrifying for her to realize how much her heart ached for his grief; it made her realize that he was already coming to mean more to her than a quick tumble. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that, but she was too full of curiosity and desire about him to let it stop her now.
She shook her head at him. "There's no need to apologize. You handled it much better than I did, when my father – well, when I lost my father." She hated, hated that her voice still wanted to choke up whenever she spoke of her father. He snorted derisively. "It's true. I would barely speak to anyone for weeks after that, even my own brother, unless it involved our work or planning our revenge. So, you see, you're already doing much better than me, and you lost more than one person." She smiled at him reassuringly.
He gave her a tentative smile back, and she squeezed his hand. He appeared lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again. "If you say so. I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."
"He had you, and the other Wardens, didn't he?" Ayla knew that often the warriors one fought side by side with could become like a second family; it was like that for her and her brother, with the Avallonne members.
"I suppose he did." This time the smile he gifted her with was a genuine one, if sad. "It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him, in the battle. I feel like I abandoned him."
"No, it doesn't sound stupid. I understand completely." If only I'd been with Father that day, then maybe . . . "But he saved your life, all our lives, really, by sending us to the tower." She knew it would be small consolation, but she felt she had to remind him of it, anyway.
Alistair sighed heavily. "Yes, I know. I think he came from Highever, or so he said." He paused for a moment, looking out at the stars. "Maybe I'll go up out there sometime, see about putting up something in his honor. I don't know. What happened to your father? Not that I mean to pry, I'm just . . ."
It was Ayla's turn to sigh. She didn't really want to talk about it, but she supposed it was only fair, given that she'd pushed him to talk about his own grief. Besides, maybe he'd understand about the bandits better. "My father was Captain of the Order before he died. I think I mentioned that part of our duties are as a peacekeeping force."
He nodded, giving her silent encouragement with those marvellous eyes of his, so she continued, struggling to keep her voice even. "He went on a lone, routine patrol. As Captain, he was one of our finest warriors, obviously, even at his age, and we were at peace, so no one thought anything of it. Myself included, though I should've gone with him. But he was ambushed, by a group of bandits operating in that region. There were so many of them, that even with his skill, he was overwhelmed, and he was killed."
She took a deep, shaky breath, and he squeezed her hand as she had his earlier. "I won't go into detail, but they didn't kill him quickly. When they dumped his body in front of headquarters, as an example, it was mangled almost beyond recognition. Later, my brother and I found out which group was responsible. We hunted them down ourselves, and killed them all, one by one. We didn't let them go quickly either. That's why . . . I react to bandits the way I do. I know they're not the same ones. But anytime I see a group of bandits, stealing, tormenting, or killing those weaker than them, I can't control the rage I feel. I have to kill them all." She winced. Great, now he'd realize how damaged she was.
"I'm sorry." She turned her head to look at him, shocked. He was looking at her with sympathy, not disgust. "I shouldn't have asked. I can't even imagine, really, what it must have felt like."
"No, it's okay," she smiled at him. "I could have refused to talk about it. I . . . wanted you to understand, about the bandits. I didn't want you to think badly of me for what I did on the highway."
He shook his head, and she was warmed by the admiration in his gaze. "I was a little startled, sure, but I couldn't really think badly of you. You've done so much to help us, just because you can. You've been so good to me – to us, and so brave. And I can't blame you for your reaction to bandits. But can I ask you for a favour, if you don't mind?"
He was so damn sweet, that he floored her. She didn't think she could refuse him anything right then. "What would you ask of me?"
"Just don't be so reckless when you fight bandits, from now on. You had me worried sick when you charged in there, without even keeping an eye on your back. So just – be careful." He grinned crookedly at her.
She grinned back at him. "I knew you had my back." And it was true, she had known it. She hadn't understood her complete faith in it at the time, still didn't, but she absolutely trusted him to watch her back. Though she trusted her brother equally, she'd never met anybody else she'd trusted like this until now. It made no sense, but she wasn't going to analyze it too closely.
He shook his head, though he was still smiling. "I do have your back, believe me. But I'd still feel a lot better if you were a bit more careful. I'm the one with the heavy armor and the really big shield, remember."
"All right, all right," she laughed, holding her other hand up in defeat. He was too cute to refuse. "I promise to try to be more careful." She glanced at him, considering. She wanted to do something more for him, and the idea came to her suddenly. "Maybe I'll go with you to Highever, when you go. For Duncan, I mean."
His smile was suddenly so warm that she was sure her heart rate doubled. "I'd like that. So would he, I think." He cleared his throat. "Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little. I think I might be able to sleep now."
"Yes, you should probably try to get more sleep. You do have a watch later on." She smiled ruefully. She didn't want him to go back to sleep, though. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so comfortable talking to someone.
He got up, letting go of her hand, and it suddenly felt cold without the warmth of his. "Good night, Ayla." His voice had taken on a low, husky quality that sent shivers down her spine. Damn it, she was in trouble.
"Good night, Alistair," she replied softly, watching him as he turned and went back to his makeshift bed. She resisted all urges to join him; she was on watch, and she didn't think he was ready for that, anyway. It's going to be a long night, she thought, turning her gaze back to the darkness.
"Ayla, wake up."
Ayla woke up promptly when she heard Alistair's voice the next morning. To her surprise, once Aedan had relieved her, she'd slept quite well. Though she had deliberately chosen a spot far enough away from Alistair so she wouldn't succumb to temptation in the middle of the night.
The temptation in question was crouched down next to her, having gently shaken her shoulder as she had his previously. He grinned crookedly at her as she sat up. "Good morning, my lady."
"Good morning, ser," she grinned back at him. She stretched her arms up and arched her back deliberately. She always liked to stretch upon waking anyway, but Alistair's reaction didn't disappoint. She saw him swallow out of the corner of her eye as his gaze followed the motions of her body and darkened, and a blush spread over his cheeks.
Of course, Aedan just had to pick that moment to interrupt. "All right, it's time we got going," he announced as he strapped on his sword and began packing up his things.
Ayla bit back a sigh of disappointment as Alistair shot to his feet and, still blushing, went to gather his own things. She knew it wasn't a good time, but still. She got up and packed her own things together as well, noticing that the other women were awake and gathering their packs too.
"We'll start by heading further out of town." Aedan headed for the door to the barn, and they all followed, including Striker. "The bandits are supposed to be hitting the farmer's fields out there. Once we've dispatched them, we'll collect our reward at the Chantry, and see about getting that qunari, Sten, released. Then we'll head for Redcliffe."
Everyone nodded, and Aedan took the lead, heading further north from the barn they'd been in and out to fields that stretched out past the houses of the town. They'd made it past a rather large hill to their west, and farmer's fields to their right, when Ayla spotted figures in the distance and an arrow landed right by Aedan's feet.
"There they are," he murmured. "Leliana, Morrigan, can you give us some cover fire? The rest of us will confront the bandits head on. I'd like to leave at least one of this group alive, so we can find out if there's more of them hiding elsewhere." He gave Ayla a significant glance.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, I'll leave you one."
The three of them, along with Striker, drew their weapons and headed towards the bandits, Alistair taking point again. He caught some arrows on his shield, while Ayla and Aedan ran in zigzag patterns to make themselves harder targets. Arrows and arcane bolts streaked past them towards the bandits.
Once they confronted the small group of about half a dozen bandits, it didn't take long before there was only one left. Ayla had done her best to control her rage and bloodlust, but had still made pretty short work of the inexperienced bunch with the help of the others. She had, however, with no little effort, managed to leave Aedan the last of them.
The bandit lay on the ground, with an arrow in his leg and Aedan's sword at his throat. "Tell me if there are more of you, and where your hideout is," Aedan prompted, his tone steely.
"Bugger off," the bandit spat back. "I ain't telling you anything."
"I suggest you tell him what he wants to know," Ayla said icily, fingering her sword hilt. "He's the only thing keeping you from a very slow, painful death right now."
The bandit met her gaze, and his sneering look faded as she glared all her hatred at him. He turned back to Aedan and began to babble the location of a cave, another mile further out of town, explaining that there were twelve more in the group. Aedan nodded as the man finished, and then suddenly drove his sword through the bandit's neck.
"What?" Aedan asked as he turned, wiping off his sword. Everyone was staring at him. "I didn't say I was going to let him live after he gave me the information."
Ayla shrugged. She was fine with that. She didn't think she would have been able to let the bandit go after Aedan got what he wanted, anyway. Leliana looked shocked, though. Alistair was thoughtful, and Morrigan looked pleased again. "Let's keep moving," Aedan added, turning to head in the direction the bandit had indicated.
They found the caves easily enough, though they had to dispatch half of the group on the way. They'd already fallen into an easy rhythm of teamwork with each other, though, especially Ayla and the two Wardens. Their skills complemented each other well, and they were able to deal with the first group without incident.
The second group proved a little more troublesome; the bandit leader was with them, and he was a good deal more skilled than the others. He was a huge man, bigger than Alistair, wielding an immense greatsword. Eventually, however, with Aedan and Alistair distracting him from the front, Ayla was able to jam a sword through the gap in his underarm, and she twisted viciously. The man fell to his knees with a groan, and Aedan took his head off with a stroke of his sword.
They quickly looted the bandit's camp, taking any valuables they could find, and Aedan decided to take the leader's armor and weapon, stating they would probably fit the qunari. He and Alistair divided that load amongst themselves. They also collected one of the bandit's shields, which was marked with their group's emblem of a blood-red skull, as proof for the Chantry board. They made their way back to the Chantry after that.
After they'd spoken to the Chanter, and collected their reward, Leliana offered to intervene on their behalf with the Revered Mother. Morrigan didn't want to go in, and Ayla didn't see any point to it, so the two remained outside with Striker while the men went in with Leliana.
Ayla asked Morrigan some questions that had been bothering her in regards to mages, the Templars, and the Chantry. She felt Morrigan would probably be most accepting of her ignorance, since her mother had seemed to be aware that Ayla was of another world. Morrigan did turn out to be surprisingly patient, and answered all of Ayla's questions with an equally surprising lack of scorn.
Though her obvious hate of the Chantry colored her responses, Ayla found she couldn't blame Morrigan for that once she'd heard all of the things that were done to mages. She discovered that the reason that there were Templars was in case mages succumbed to demons, which were apparently wont to plague them. This was something that didn't happen in Ayla's world. The only danger magic power had there was in killing a mage who overused it, or if they were powerful enough and lost control, maybe others nearby. But there was no possession, which explained the difference in how mages were treated here.
It sounded to Ayla like the Chantry had gravely overcompensated for the possibility of possession, though. Mages were basically prisoners, with little to no freedoms, except for ones like Morrigan and her mother, who refused to live under Chantry control. Morrigan explained that this came with its own problems, however. They were branded apostates and, any time their existence was discovered, were hunted. If not for her mother's power, Morrigan believed they likely would've been caught and killed long ago. Ayla had just expressed her sympathy, feeling like she understand Morrigan a little better now, when the others re-emerged from the Chantry.
"She agreed to give us the key, thanks to Leliana," Aedan announced as they approached. Leliana beamed, and Morrigan snorted. "Come on, we'll sell some of the things we got from the bandits, then we'll release Sten and leave."
The others followed Aedan back over to the merchant from yesterday. Aedan sold off most of the armor and weapons they'd found on the bandits this morning, except for the leader's gear. Finally, they headed to the qunari's cage.
It was to the west of the tavern, towards the edge of town. As they approached it, Ayla looked up at the man in awe. He was at least another foot taller than Alistair, and even broader in the shoulder, with immense arms. He had darkly tanned skin, braided white hair, and purple eyes. He made for a very intimidating picture, even in plain homespun clothes.
"I have the key to open your cage," Aedan announced as they approached. The qunari was staring at them all with an unreadable expression.
"I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with it," the qunari answered at last, in an even, measured tone.
"She agreed to release you into our custody. You do still wish to fight the Blight, do you not?" Aedan folded his arms, watching the qunari for a reaction.
"Into your custody? So be it," the qunari sighed heavily. "I will follow you into battle. In doing so, I will find my atonement."
Aedan unlocked the cage, and the qunari stepped out. "You met Morrigan and Striker yesterday. These are my other companions," Aedan gestured to each of them in turn, "Alistair, my fellow Warden, Ayla, a warrior from another country who is aiding us, and Leliana, who was one of the Sisters here at the Chantry. She also decided to give us her aid in fighting the Blight. Everybody, this is Sten, one of the qunari peoples."
Sten looked at them all expressionlessly as they all offered various greetings. "May we proceed? I am eager to be elsewhere."
Aedan sighed, obviously unsurprised at Sten's lack of friendly reply. "Certainly. Here, we found some armor and a sword I thought might suit you."
He and Alistair knelt and opened their packs, unloading the pieces of the chainmail armor they'd found. Alistair took the greatsword off his back. Sten looked the items over before nodding. "These will do."
He strapped himself into the armor with a fair amount of ease, refusing help as the others waited for him. Finally done, he picked up the greatsword and checked its balance experimentally. Ayla noticed the grimace of unease, the first expression she'd seen on his face, as he handled the weapon. She understood the discomfort of fighting with an unfamiliar weapon. Alistair gave him some dried meat, cheese, bread and a waterskin from his pack before they moved on. Sten ate on the way as Aedan lead them to the highway to the northwest, which led out of Lothering and to Redcliffe.
The stone steps leading up to the highway were within sight when Alistair drew his sword. "Darkspawn!"
Ayla heard it just after he said it; the sound of someone screaming for help. She drew her swords as well, and they all ran for the highway, hearing the cries get louder as they drew near.
As they darted up the stone steps, Ayla spotted two dwarves huddling among a wagon and a bunch of crates to their left, as a group of about eight darkspawn raced towards them from the right. Alistair ran to intercept, catching the blow of a Hurlock on his shield, and Ayla followed.
The battle was soon joined quickly. Leliana and Morrigan stayed back, as before, sending arrows and spells into the ranks of the attacking darkspawn, while the men drew the attention of the darkspawn. Ayla snuck into the fray, weaving around and behind the darkspawn, stabbing and beheading where she could. The battle proved to be over quickly; Sten had been a great help, cutting down two darkspawn with massive swings of his sword almost immediately.
Ayla swiped her swords off on a filthy rag taken from the darkspawn and sheathed them. She noticed Alistair had searched her out with his eyes almost immediately again following the battle; it gave her a warm feeling whenever he did that, so she couldn't help smiling at him when their eyes met, and his face lit with an answering smile. She turned her attention to the dwarves who were approaching Aedan. One looked to be a fair bit older, with the required beard and long sandy hair; the other was young, with no beard, short hair, and a rather foolish grin on his face.
"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend, I'm much obliged," the older dwarf said as he stopped in front of Aedan. Ayla followed the others in gathering around behind Aedan to listen.
"You are most welcome, my dwarven friend," Aedan answered with his usual unfailing courtesy.
"The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here's my son, Sandal." He gestured to the young dwarf next to him. "Say hello, my boy."
"Hello," Sandal said in a dull tone that confirmed Ayla's suspicions that he was a bit simple in the head.
"Road's been mighty dangerous these days," Bodahn continued. "Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we're going the same way."
"Well, if you are travelling around Ferelden, we might be," Aedan answered. "We are currently on our way to Redcliffe, to gain an audience with Arl Eamon, but we have other destinations around Ferelden after that."
Bodahn perked up visibly at this news. "There's good trade to be had at Redcliffe! Mind if my boy and I come along? We could use some protection on the road, and perhaps we could be of help to you in return."
Aedan crossed his arms thoughtfully, gazing at the dwarf. "Would you let us use your wagon to store some of our supplies? That way, we could carry a bit more than normal."
Ayla had to admit it would be nice to be able to carry more things. If they had a wagon, they might even be able to have tents and cooking supplies, which was something they'd avoided buying in Lothering because of the lack of means to carry it. They all awaited the dwarf's response.
"Why certainly!" Bodahn beamed in response. "I'm also willing to offer you a fine discount for the inconvenience of our presence! How does that sound? Good, yes?"
Aedan looked back at everyone, and they all nodded in response. "Sounds like a deal," he agreed. "Just mind yourselves; it might get a bit dangerous."
"Wonderful! Thank the kind man, my boy!" Bodahn turned to his son.
"Thank you, kind man," Sandal responded in the same dull tone.
"You're welcome," Aedan replied. "Let's get moving, then. I'd like to be well away from Lothering by nightfall."
"Of course!" Bodahn nodded, and gesturing to his son, he began gathering up crates and placing them on the wagon. Everyone moved to help, and once the wagon was loaded, they made sure the highway was clear of obstacles like darkspawn corpses before they began to move out.
Aedan took the lead, as usual, and the others arranged themselves around the wagon, to guard it as best as possible. Ayla followed, relieved that they were finally on the road again, headed towards Redcliffe. She only hoped, for Alistair's sake, that Arl Eamon was alive once they got there.
Second A/N: I had considered having Ayla overhear the Warden/Alistair nightmare conversation, but decided I'd rather have a little alone time with her and Alistair. I'm still undecided if I want to include the darkspawn nightmare conversation, so if anyone has an opinion on that, please let me know! Also, I know Bodahn doesn't join your group here (at least I never could get him to) but as far as I'm concerned it makes more sense this way. As always, feedback would be appreciated! Thanks!