Author's Note: Wow, I think this is the longest one yet! Partly due to the fact that the first section is really just fluff between Ayla and Alistair, but hey, it is a romance, after all. There will be more fluff to come. I also had a specific place that I wanted to stop, and didn't really want to cut the chapter before then. I know there's a fair chunk of game dialogue from Redcliffe in here, but I do want to showcase the main plot point conversations and how they affect the characters, and what the characters are thinking at the time. Besides, this is an Alistair story, and Redcliffe is an Alistair-centric event. I will skip over all the side quest and errand type conversations though.
This chapter is from Alistair's POV. I will likely do all of Redcliffe from Alistair's POV, unless it ends up being more chapters than I expect.
As always, big thanks to those who have favorited and followed so far! I'm so glad that you enjoy the story enough to do that! I would love more reviews however, they are very motivating ;).
Disclaimer: As always, Bioware owns Dragon Age and its dialogue and characters, and I own my character.
Confessions
They were making camp for the second night in a row after having left Lothering. Judging by the map of Ferelden they'd been able to purchase off the dwarf, Bodahn, they would reach Redcliffe early tomorrow afternoon if they left at first light again.
Which didn't really leave him with much time, Alistair mused. He knew he had to tell Aedan and Ayla the truth about who he really was before they got to Redcliffe. The problem was, he still didn't really want to. Right now, nobody in their immediate group had any idea of who he really was, and it was remarkably freeing. He couldn't even remember the last time that had happened.
But, he knew there was a good chance that someone would bring it up when they got to Redcliffe. He figured that, as the leader, Aedan had a right to know important details like that before he got blindsided with them. And if he told Aedan, but not Ayla, she might be angry with him when she did find it out. So he'd decided he would pull the two of them aside at some point and tell them. None of the rest of them needed to know before it was brought up, though, as far as he was concerned.
He still had no idea how exactly he was going to go about his confession, though, which is why he hadn't so far. He admitted that he'd had the perfect opportunity to tell Ayla last night that he hadn't acted on. He simply hadn't wanted to tell her, terrified that she might see him differently. He'd been enjoying the conversation with her so much that he hadn't wanted to do anything to spoil it.
He had to admit, he was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her. When she'd first brought up the subject of him being raised by Arl Eamon last night, he'd done what he always did when people asked him personal questions: deflected it with stupid humor. This usually succeeded in exasperating people to the point where they never bothered to continue the conversation, let alone ask him the question again. Ayla, however, had not only seemed to find his attempt at humor amusing, but she'd actually played along with it.
Then, when he'd said something about strange dreams, she'd told him she had dreams of the two of them making mad love. He still wasn't sure if she'd been flirting with him or just trying to get him to blush (which he had, of course), since it seemed to be a source of great amusement for her when he blushed. At any rate, he'd been so flustered, aroused, and tongue-tied, that he'd only been able to focus on one thing: her original question.
He'd somehow succeeded in getting himself back on track and had told her all about being raised by Arl Eamon, even about his mother's amulet, which he'd never told anyone before. But when they'd come to the subject of who his real father actually was, he'd glossed over it, only telling her that Arl Eamon wasn't his father, despite what Lady Isolde thought. She'd accepted it, but he was afraid she really would be angry with him when she found out that it was actually something important.
So, he had no idea where to start, or what to say. That was also not the only problem he had when it came to Ayla. Ever since their talk in Lothering, he'd been getting increasingly more obsessed with her. He'd tried to tell himself it was a bad idea, for any number of reasons, not the least of which was he didn't know how she felt, and that she was going to leave when the Blight was over. But being logical hadn't seemed to discourage his feelings in the slightest. Especially considering the very graphic and vivid dream he'd had about her last night.
As a result of that dream, he'd thought about what to do about his attraction to her all day. He'd finally decided that he was going to try to act on it. After all, if she liked him, and things went well, maybe she'd want to stay here. He couldn't think of any way to get himself to stop being attracted to her, anyway, and would it be so bad to allow himself something like this, just this once?
Having decided to pursue her, however, raised the very real problem of what to do next. He'd been raised in the Chantry, where young boys were kept very much separate from young girls, and taught in no uncertain terms that they weren't supposed to have any impure or sinful thoughts regarding them. Any boys (or girls) found doing something they shouldn't be were very strictly punished. Since he got punished enough as it was, he'd never really tried anything along those lines.
When he'd finally left the Chantry, six months ago, he'd had very little exposure to women his own age, resulting in a complete lack of experience. His Grey Warden brothers had tried to take it upon themselves to "help" by telling him various outlandish and inappropriate things, some of which sounded downright impossible to Alistair. They'd also tried to drag him to brothels to "fix" his lack of experience, but he'd flatly refused. As dumb as it might sound, he wanted his first time to be perfect, with somebody who actually wanted him, and not just the money.
He'd also wanted it to be with a woman who was really special to him, and he'd decided Ayla might actually be that woman. He'd never been so singularly interested in one woman before. Most of his fantasies prior to meeting her had been formless ones, usually starring faceless women, or maybe a pretty woman he'd seen briefly in passing at some point. Since finding her in the Wilds, his fantasies had consistently starred her, and had been far more frequent than before. It seemed pretty clear to him that Ayla was a good candidate for his first time.
However, this decision did not solve his original problem: What in the Maker's name were you supposed to do when you liked a woman? As this question crossed his mind for possibly the hundredth time that day, he realized he'd finally made it back to camp with his armload of firewood. He kicked at the ground in frustration. If only he wasn't such an idiot when it came to this sort of thing.
He suddenly spotted Aedan across the camp. He was at Morrigan's fire, which, like the night before, was so far away from the main fire and everybody else that it was completely out of earshot. He was amazed to see that the witch was actually smiling. That's it! He could ask Aedan for help. If Aedan could get the Witch of the Wilds to smile, surely he could help Alistair with Ayla!
He'd have to get Aedan away from the camp to ask him, though. He'd noticed that Ayla's hearing was unnaturally sharp, and he didn't want her to overhear the sure-to-be-awkward conversation that he would have with Aedan. He'd see about talking to him later, Alistair decided. He headed over to the main fire, which was in the middle of the circle of tents provided by Bodahn's generosity. Among many of the other things they'd done last night setting up camp had been acquiring various items from Bodahn that they'd been lacking or unable to carry before, and now their camp seemed almost homey.
He heard the sound of lively, upbeat music as he approached, and soon spotted its source. Leliana was playing a fast-paced song on the lute that Aedan had bought from Bodahn after learning she was a travelling minstrel from Orlais prior to being a Chantry Sister. And Ayla was dancing along to the music, whirling in tight circles and stomping her feet.
She looked more beautiful than ever, Alistair thought in awe. For the first time since he'd met her, all her fiery red hair was out of its braid, tumbling to her waist and whipping around her as she spun. How would all that hair look spread out underneath her . . ? No, no, think about something else! Her eyes were glowing, her face was flushed, and everything about her bespoke perfect enjoyment of the moment. She was wearing a light cotton tunic and leggings designed to be worn under armor, both of which hugged her curves nicely as she spun.
He walked over to them and deposited the wood by the fire just as Leliana wound up the song. Amazingly, he found himself able to speak without much difficulty. "What was that song, Leliana? Is it Orlesian?"
Leliana stopped playing and Ayla stopped dancing, both of them smiling at him. He had to actually ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out for Ayla. "Oh no, it is actually from Ayla's country! She has been teaching it to me. It is a lovely song, yes?"
Alistair nodded, trying hard to keep his focus; he was actually curious about the song, especially if it was from Ayla's country. He still hadn't asked nearly enough questions about that. "Does it have any words?"
Ayla grinned up at him as she pushed a tangle of hair out of her face. "Actually, it does. It's one of my favourite songs from back home."
"You must sing it for me, then!" Leliana exclaimed. "How am I to learn the song properly if I do not know the words?"
"Oh, well . . ." Ayla looked embarrassed for once, glancing down at her feet. "I'm not much of a singer, I'm afraid."
"Oh, but you must!" Leliana begged.
"Yeah, come on," Alistair fixed her with his very best puppy dog eyes. He'd love to hear her sing. "For me? Please?"
"Oh, very well," Ayla huffed out in exasperation, though she was smiling. "But, if I do this for you, you have to dance with me when Leliana has the words right!"
Now it was Alistair's turn to be embarrassed. "I don't know about that . . . I've never really danced before." That was another thing the Chantry didn't really bother teaching.
Ayla waved her hand as though this were a minor concern. "Don't worry about that! Dancing is easier than singing; you just have to move to the music, that's all. And I won't sing unless you agree."
Alistair threw up his hands in defeat, though he was secretly pleased at an excuse to be close to her. "All right, fine! But I won't be held responsible if I step on your feet."
She slanted an amused look at him. "Don't worry, I'm fast. Ready, Leliana?"
Leliana nodded, positioning her fingers on the lute, her blue eyes taking on a look of intense focus as Ayla began to sing.
Sail away where no ball and chain
Can keep us from the roarin' waves
Together undivided but forever we'll be free
So sail away aboard our rig
The moon is full and so are we
We're seven drunken pirates
We're the seven deadly sins
We're seven drunken pirates
We're the seven deadly sins
But It's the only life we'll know
Blaggards to the bone
So don't wreck yourself
Take an honest grip
For there's more tales beyond the shore
Ah the years rolled by and several died
And left us somewhat reelin'
In and out came crawlin' out
And spewed upon the ceiling
So what became of rebels
That sang for you and me
Grapplin' with their demons
In the search for liberty
Sail away where no ball and chain
Can keep us from the roarin' waves
Together undivided but forever we'll be free
So sail away aboard our rig
The moon is full and so are we
We're seven drunken pirates
We're the seven deadly sins
Sail away where no ball and chain
Can keep us from the roarin' waves
Together undivided but forever we'll be free
So sail away aboard our rig
The moon is full and so are we
We're seven drunken pirates
We're the seven deadly sins
We're seven drunken pirates
We're the seven deadly sins
We're seven drunken pirates
We're the seven deadly sins *
Alistair smiled as he listened to her. As he'd thought, he enjoyed her singing; her voice was as clear as a bell and full of passionate enjoyment while she sang along to Leliana's lute, even if she didn't quite hit all the notes perfectly. When she finished, he grinned teasingly at her. "Drunken pirates, huh? Are you secretly a drunken pirate and that's why you like this song?"
She laughed, giving him a playful shove. "No! I like it because it makes me want to dance to it without holding anything back. You don't get quite the same effect for the song with just the lute, though. Usually a full band of minstrels with several instruments plays it. But this is close enough. Do you have it, Leliana?"
"Almost!" Leliana's eyes gleamed. "You will have to teach me as many songs as you can remember. I have never heard anything like this one."
"Of course!" Ayla smiled brightly at her. "As often as we get the chance, I'll teach you. We'll go through it a couple more times if you're ready."
Leliana nodded, and began to play as Ayla sung through the song a few more times. Finally, Leliana announced that she was ready to do it on her own, and Ayla turned to Alistair. "Ready?" She gave him a wicked grin.
He felt his heart skip a few beats. "No," he retorted, but he took the hands she held out anyway and turned to face her. He was grateful that he'd also gone out to the stream to wash prior to collecting firewood, so he was wearing a light tunic and leggings similar to Ayla's and leather boots. If he'd been wearing his armor, he wouldn't have had any hope of keeping up with her.
She took one of his hands and put it at her waist, while hers went up to his shoulder. His other hand she linked with hers, keeping both their hands up in the air. Alistair took a shaky breath. He could feel the heat of her skin and the curve of her waist through her tunic, and the skin-on-skin contact of their hands was sending little trails of fire up his arm. Just focus on the dancing, not on her.
Leliana started to play and sing, and Ayla tugged on his arm and shoulder as she started back into her whirling dance. He did his best to follow her, and stumbled a bit at first, but soon started to get the hang of it. As far as he could tell, she wasn't really following any particular pattern, just keeping up to the beat. By the time they got partway through the song, they were both spinning and stomping in circles around the clearing by Leliana, and Alistair was enjoying himself thoroughly, particularly when he watched Ayla's eyes sparkle up at him.
All too soon, the song was over and they stopped, their hands dropping down to their sides, although neither immediately let go of their linked hands right away. Alistair felt a sudden stab of guilt as he realized that during that song, he'd felt perfectly happy. How could he feel so good so soon after everything that had happened?
"You don't have to feel guilty all the time," Ayla whispered to him, squeezing his hand. "Nobody would expect you to, or want you to, least of all Duncan I'm sure."
Alistair looked down at her in astonishment. "How did you –"
"I saw it on your face." She tapped the side of his face lightly with her free hand. "You'd make a terrible gambler, you know. Besides, I had that feeling often enough myself to recognize it in someone else."
"Right. Well – thanks. I'll keep that in mind." He might've said more, or had the courage to do something else, but just then Aedan came over.
"All right, as much as I enjoyed listening to you play, Leliana, we should probably all retire for the night now. I'd like us to leave at dawn tomorrow, and get to Redcliffe as soon as possible." Aedan glanced at the three of them, and they all nodded in turn. "Right, I'll see you all in the morning, then."
He headed off to his own tent, as Leliana set aside her lute and picked up her bow. Last night, they'd established a more fair watch schedule to include the other three, which meant Leliana got first watch tonight. She headed for the perimeter of the camp to start a patrol, calling out a good night to them as she left.
"Maybe we should do this again sometime," Alistair suggested, looking down at Ayla, wishing fervently that he could think of something else to say.
She smiled at him, squeezing his hand lightly again before letting it go. "Absolutely. You make a good dance partner, Alistair. See you in the morning." She turned and headed to her tent.
Right, the morning, Alistair thought as he went back to his own tent. He still had to think of how to talk to her and Aedan sometime tomorrow. Needless to say, he did not sleep well that night as his mind went through various confession scenarios.
It was when they were stopping for a quick lunch break at the top of a hill that Alistair decided it was finally time. They'd be at Redcliffe in another two hours or so, and in their travelling formation, it would be hard to get Aedan and Ayla alone away from the others. He still hadn't really settled on how to go about it, but there was nothing for it now.
Ayla was sitting next to him eating. He leaned over to her. "I have something I have to tell you and Aedan. Can you come with me to get him?"
She looked up at him, scanning his face. He tried to keep it as impassive as possible. She nodded. "Of course, let's go."
The two of them stood up and went over to Aedan, who was trying to talk to Sten without much success. As always, Striker was at his side. Ever since they'd left Lothering, Aedan had been going around to each of the party members whenever he got the chance, trying to talk to them, find out more about them, and make them feel welcome. Alistair personally thought he was wasting his time with Sten, who tended to answer with one word if it was at all possible. For some reason, though, Aedan persisted in trying. Oddly, it seemed that the qunari liked Striker better than any of them; Alistair was sure he'd seen Sten talking to the dog last night at camp, though he hadn't been close enough to overhear what was being said.
He interrupted Aedan as soon as he felt it was safe. "Aedan, do you have a moment? I need to talk to you and Ayla alone."
Aedan turned to him and gave him the same searching glance Ayla had before nodding. He expected they were both burning with curiosity as to what he had to say. Aedan turned briefly back to Sten. "I apologize for the interruption, Sten. I will come back later to finish this conversation with you."
"I am certain you will," Sten said heavily, sounding not at all thrilled at the possibility.
Alistair led the two of them a good ways away from the other three on the hill, Striker following, until he was satisfied that none of the others should be able to overhear. Finally, he turned to Ayla and Aedan, who were both staring at him expectantly.
He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "I need to tell the both of you something I - should probably have told you earlier." He was so nervous that he couldn't keep from wringing his gauntleted hands together.
"Relax, Alistair," Ayla prompted him. "Just get whatever it is off your chest, you'll feel better." Great, she was being so nice to him about this that it was making him feel even guiltier for not having told her sooner.
Aedan, however, sighed as he watched Alistair fidget and sweat. "Oh great, I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"I don't know, I doubt it. I've never liked it, that's for sure." Alistair hesitated again before plunging onwards. "I told you both before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in? The reason he did that was because . . . well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my . . . half brother, I suppose." He trailed off at the end, half mumbling this part into his chest. Maybe they wouldn't hear him.
He looked up to see both of them staring at him. Well, gaping at him really. He couldn't really read any expression other than shock on both their faces. He sincerely hoped that neither of those expressions was about to change into anger. He honestly didn't know what to expect of either of them, though.
What he was not expecting was for Aedan to suddenly break out with a mischievous grin. "So, you're not just a bastard but a royal bastard?"
Alistair let out a relieved laugh. So far, so good. "Ha! Yes I guess I am at that. I should use that line more often!"
"I'm not sure I quite understand," Ayla said slowly. "Why didn't you tell us this sooner?" Alistair tried to read her expression, but it was carefully blank.
She's probably mad. Or upset. I have to fix this. "I would have told you both, but it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret." He watched her face, still hoping to see some sign of what she felt as he continued. "I've never talked about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me . . . even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want anybody to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry." Please, Maker, don't let her hate me for this, he begged silently.
She nodded after a moment, though her expression still didn't clear into anything that made Alistair think he was forgiven. "I think I understand. I'm technically a noble too, after all, but it's never really meant anything to me either."
Now it was Alistair and Aedan's turn to gape at her. "You're technically a noble?" Aedan exclaimed incredulously. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She shrugged, not quite meeting either of their gazes. "Well, it's kind of a long story. Simply put, the Trichlor clan to which I belong is one of the eight oldest in Fallor, which gives the heir to the clan a seat on the King's council. That makes it one of the most important clans in the country after the Clan of Kings. But any of the heirs who enter any of the Orders are not allowed to inherit the clan's seat, since seats are also given to the Captain of each Order, and they want to make sure no one can hold two seats. So as soon as my father entered the Order, his seat passed to his younger brother. It could have gone back to my brother or me, but we both entered the Order as well. So it doesn't really mean anything to us, since we're not really viewed as nobility anymore, only soldiers."
"I suppose that makes sense," Aedan said thoughtfully. "Actually, it's quite similar to the Grey Wardens. Now that I am one, I'm not supposed to inherit Highever either. Wardens can't hold lands or titles. But even still, Alistair," he pinned Alistair with a glare, "you should have told us. Do you even realize what this means?"
Alistair looked back and forth between the two of them. Both were looking at him expectantly, Aedan with his arms crossed and a bit of glare to his expression still, Ayla still unreadable but not outright mad at least. He'd been surprised by Ayla's admission that she was a noble as well, but relieved that she seemed to understand how his status wouldn't mean anything to him. He realized all over again how little he knew about her. Once he was sure she wasn't mad at him, he was going to have a long talk with her about this country of hers. But what was Aedan getting at?
"You're right, I should have told you," Alistair admitted. "It's brought me nothing but problems, to be honest, so I was hoping to avoid it if I could. I'm not sure what you think it means, though."
"Are you kidding, Alistair?" Aedan threw his hands up in the air. "Cailan is dead! He had no children! That leaves you as the only living Theirin! How could that not have occurred to you?"
"That would make Alistair the new king, would it not?" Ayla asked, looking over at Aedan for confirmation. "If your former king never named an heir?"
Alistair was backing up, shaking his head. There was a perfectly good reason why this hadn't occurred to him, and that was because it was impossible! There was no way he could be the king! "Oh no. No no no no. They make it very clear to me, over and over, that I'm a commoner and in no way in line for the throne. Not to mention, you said it yourself, Aedan! Grey Wardens can't inherit! And that's fine by me. I have no illusions about trying to be king! No, if there's an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood, but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly, very popular with the people."
Aedan sighed, shaking his head. "Alistair, it's a totally different situation if you're in line for the throne, instead of just a Teyrnship. As soon as the Landsmeet finds out who you are, they won't care that you're a Warden. All they'll see is that you're Maric's son, and they'll want you on the throne to preserve the bloodline. And I imagine Loghain must know, he was Maric's best friend after all. This means he'll see you as a threat to Anora's rule, and likely try to have you killed as soon as possible. This isn't just something we can ignore."
Alistair felt his mouth opening and closing, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He'd been terrified at the thought of just leading this party, never mind an entire country! He'd been pushed off to the side his entire life, told to follow, and now everybody would expect him to suddenly know how to lead? As if that wasn't bad enough, Loghain was going to be trying to kill him specifically! That was just great! What in the Maker's name was he supposed to do?
He met Ayla's eyes, and she must have seen the desperation in his gaze, because her face softened. "Look, Aedan, do we really need to worry about this now? Shouldn't we be more worried about defeating the darkspawn to save this country instead of who's going to run it? Once we've got our army recruited, then we can go confront this Loghain fellow. If he sends more soldiers after us in the meantime, we'll just have to kill them. He's after both of you anyway."
Aedan frowned, drumming his fingers on his arm. "I suppose you've got a point. If Ferelden falls to the Blight, nobody will be worrying about who should be king. We'll just have to take things one at a time, and get to Loghain later. Eamon may have some thoughts on the subject as well, if he's recovered. We'll finish our food and get to Redcliffe as soon as possible."
Alistair sagged with relief. He was safe for now, and he was sure Arl Eamon wouldn't want him to be king. He'd always been one of the most adamant that Alistair was not to think of himself as a Theirin, but simply a commoner. He'd set all this straight, unless . . . "Hopefully he's not as sick as we've heard." He looked at Aedan anxiously. "If they're really searching for the Sacred Ashes to heal him, I don't even want to imagine how serious of an illness it is."
"That does worry me," Aedan admitted. "From everything I've heard, the Ashes are supposed to be nothing but a myth. Looking to them for a cure sounds rather desperate. But the only way we'll find out is if we go see for ourselves."
"So, let's get a move on then." Ayla walked past them, heading back to where she and Alistair had left their packs and food. "We only have so many hours of daylight left."
The two of them nodded and followed her, the dog trotting along behind. They quickly finished eating and began to pack up their things, ignoring the curious stares from the other three. Alistair imagined that they'd probably at least been able to tell that Aedan had been yelling, though it didn't seem that anybody knew what he'd been yelling about. That much was a relief, anyway. He could only imagine the kind of ammunition this would give Morrigan. Once they were ready, Aedan signalled for them to move out, and they continued on the trek to Redcliffe.
Though Ayla walked near him on the way, as she normally did, they made the remainder of the journey in silence. Alistair had no idea what to say to her after his confession, and she didn't seem inclined to talk to him. It wasn't until they were nearly at Redcliffe, able to see the castle in the distance and the cliffs that surrounded the village, that she finally spoke. "Something's not right."
Alistair turned to look at her. "What? What do you mean?"
She sniffed the air, a grim look on her face. "It smells like a battlefield. Blood and death."
"What? Are you sure?" Alistair tried to smell something other than outdoors. He couldn't smell anything at first, but suddenly the wind picked up, and it blew the rotting stench of death right in his face. Sadly, he was as familiar with the scent as Ayla seemed to be. "Maker, you're right! The village must have been attacked! Aedan, we have to hurry!"
He hurried forward, Ayla close behind, until he'd caught up with Aedan at the head of their party. He noticed as he did so that Striker was growling, the fur on his back bristling. Aedan looked down at the dog, then back at them, but seeing the look on Alistair's face, merely nodded before hurrying along with them. Everyone else followed suit.
As they approached the village, a single man came across the bridge leading into the village to meet them. While he looked panicked, and sported a bow and arrow, he didn't appear to be injured. Everybody drew to a halt in front of the man as he stopped. "I – I thought I saw travellers coming down the road, though I scarcely believed it!" the man exclaimed. "Have you come to help us?"
"What do you mean, come to help?" Aedan demanded. "We were coming to see Arl Eamon, what happened?"
"The Arl? Then . . . you don't know? Has nobody out there heard?" the man cried, panic plain in his voice.
"We've heard the Arl is sick, but that's all," Alistair replied hurriedly. "Did something happen to the village?"
"Sick? He could be dead for all we know!" the villager exclaimed. "No one's heard from the castle in days. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone's been fighting . . . and dying."
Morrigan snorted. "Apparently everyone agrees that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other. Marvelous, really."
While Alistair had actually been thinking along the same lines, because it seemed like people were fighting and dying everywhere they went, he couldn't believe the witch had actually said it out loud. Didn't she realize that some things you should really keep to yourself? The villager apparently chose to ignore her however, for he merely continued speaking to Aedan. "We've no army to defend us, no Arl and no King to send us help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they're next!"
Ayla stepped forward, holding up a hand to halt the villager. "Wait. What sort of monsters are these that are attacking? They're not darkspawn, are they?" She glanced at Alistair as she said this; he shook his head. He couldn't sense any nearby darkspawn, and the bulk of horde felt as though it was still well south of Redcliffe.
The villager shook his head. "I – I don't rightly know; I'm sorry. Nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagan, he's all that's holding us together. He'll want to see you."
"Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?" Alistair demanded. He was relieved; even if Arl Eamon was still sick, Bann Teagan should have some idea of what to do. The Bann had always been kind to him when he was a child, and Alistair found himself looking forward to seeing at least one familiar face that was still alive.
"Yes, it's not far, if you'll come with me." Without waiting for an answer, the villager turned and began heading across the bridge.
"Come on," Aedan gestured to the others. "We have to find out what's going on here before we can do anything else."
They all followed the villager across the bridge and down the hill into Redcliffe. The further they went into the village, the more the sights and smells of recent battle became obvious. There were battered barricades set up at the bottom of the hill leading to the castle, and more set up at intervals on the way down into the village. There were very few villagers out, and those that they did see were all armed, some of them wearing shoddy armor as well. An impromptu training area had been set up in front of the Chantry, and several men were firing arrows at straw dummies, while others practiced with wooden swords. They were obviously not trained fighters, but rather villagers hoping desperately to defend themselves; their movements were sloppy, and many arrows flew past their targets or barely hit the edges.
The man in front of them led them directly into the Chantry. Once inside, they saw that this had become the base for the village; women, children, and the elderly were all packed inside, ranging along the walls. Temporary bedding, healing stations, and packs of food were everywhere. The Chantry was full of activity and the babble of loud voices and crying. As they approached the back of the Chantry, Alistair spotted the Bann.
He was wearing a shield with Redcliffe's heraldry on his back, as well as a longsword, both of fine make, but no armor that Alistair could see, merely a silk tunic and matching leggings. He bowed to an older man who walked away as the party came up, then turned to face them. The Teagan that Alistair remembered was a young, beardless man; the one that turned to face them sported a full beard, and his light brown hair was longer, with a small braid along the side. His kind brown eyes were the same as Alistair remembered, though they were full of concern now, and his face was more lined.
The Bann turned to the villager who'd brought them here. "It's . . . Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They're obviously not simple travelers."
"No, my lord," Tomas replied before any of the party could. "They just arrived, and I thought you would want to see them."
"Well done, Tomas. Greetings, friends." The Bann bowed his head to them. "My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the Arl."
Alistair was trying to think of something that would make Teagan realize who he was, when it came to him. The last time he'd seen Teagan, just before he'd left. He'd been so furious when he'd found out that he was being sent away, that when the other stableboy insulted him, instead of ignoring him or trading insults, he'd simply knocked the other boy into the mud and they'd started pounding on each other. Teagan had been the one to find them and break it up, and he'd gotten Alistair cleaned up and had promised not to tell anyone what had happened. As far as Alistair knew, he never had.
Alistair stepped forward next to Aedan. "I remember you, Bann Teagan, though the last time we met, I was a lot younger and . . . covered in mud." He could feel the others staring at him, but no one commented.
"Covered in mud? Alistair? It is you, isn't it?" A large, genuine smile broke across Teagan's face as he met Alistair's eyes. "You're alive! This is wonderful news!"
The relief Alistair felt at having been recognized faded as he realized the reason Teagan would have thought he was dead. Ostagar . . . and Loghain. He frowned. "Still alive, yes, though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it."
"Indeed." The chill in Teagan's voice was evident as he spoke. "Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things."
Aedan chose this moment to step forward and offer his own bow. "Greetings, Bann Teagan. We've never met personally, but I believe you may have met my father, Teyrn Cousland. My name is Aedan, and I am a Grey Warden, like Alistair. These others are not Grey Wardens, but companions who have agreed to assist us. This is Ayla, Morrigan, Leliana, and Sten." He pointed to each of them in turn; Ayla and Leliana bowed, but Morrigan and Sten gave no indication they'd noticed the introduction. "I take it you don't believe what Loghain is saying?"
Teagan turned curious eyes to them. "You are the youngest Cousland? I thought I recognized you. It is a pleasure to meet you, and your companions, though I wish it were under better circumstances. But no, I do not believe he pulled his men in order to save them, or that Cailan risked everything in the name of glory." Teagan scoffed before continuing. "Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the King. I don't believe it. It is an act of a desperate man."
"I apologize for interrupting," Ayla began, coming up alongside Alistair, "but do you know what it is that is happening in this village? We had come to see the Arl, but we hear you are being attacked by some sort of monsters."
Teagan sighed. "Yes, well, I'm afraid Redcliffe is suffering from a number of problems. My brother is gravely ill. On top of that, no one has heard from anyone in the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts. The attacks themselves started a few nights ago. Evil . . . things . . . surged from the castle. We were able to drive them back, but many perished during the assault."
"Just what sort of evil things are we talking about here?" Aedan demanded. "No one has said so far what they might be."
Teagan shook his head. "That's because we do not know for sure. Some call them the walking dead; decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh . . . They hit again and again each night, coming with greater numbers every time. Loghain has started a war over the throne, so no one has responded to my urgent calls for help. I have a feeling tonight's assault will be the worst one yet." The Bann hesitated, then met Alistair's eyes again. "Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends."
For the first time in his life, Alistair wished he was in charge. He wanted so badly to tell Teagan that of course they would help, and to feel sure that everyone would back him up. But he'd given up leadership to Aedan, and so the choice wasn't his, no matter how badly he wanted it to be. He shook his head reluctantly. "It isn't just up to me. Though the Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon." He looked hopefully at Aedan as he said this. He could only hope that Aedan would make the choice he wanted him to.
Aedan nodded in response. "Of course we'll help. I could not just leave these villagers to die."
Morrigan exhaled loudly in annoyance, folding her arms. "How pointless, to help these villagers fight an impossible battle. One would think we had enough to contend with elsewhere."
"Morrigan -" Aedan began, but Ayla interrupted him as she turned to address Morrigan. "Yes, we have other things to contend with, but the Arl can help us with most of them. That's why we need to do whatever we can to help him."
The witch rolled her eyes in response, but said nothing further. Ever since they'd gone off hunting together the last two nights at camp, the two women seemed to have started developing a mutual respect for each other. Alistair had to admit that it disturbed him a little bit that Ayla seemed to be getting along with Morrigan, but as she'd been able to keep the witch from pestering him too much, he'd decided not to worry about it.
Teagan had apparently chosen to ignore that little aside, for he merely beamed at their party. "Thank you! Thank you, this . . . means more to me than you can guess." After sending Tomas back to his post, he continued briskly. "Now then, there is much to do before nightfall. I've put two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is outside the Chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up the cliff at the windmill watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle."
Aedan nodded, giving Teagan a quick bow. "We're on our way."
"Very well. Luck be with you, my friends."
Aedan headed for the door, motioning for the others to follow. Alistair felt like he owed Aedan more than ever before, for agreeing to do this. He vowed to himself that he would find some way to pay him back. In the meantime, he was going to do everything he could to save Redcliffe and its people. He felt that he owed Bann Teagan and Arl Eamon that much, at least. He could only hope that they would get the village through the night.
Second A/N:
*Lyrics are taken from the song Seven Deadly Sins by Flogging Molly. If you've ever heard it, you'll know why it's a whirling, foot stomping kind of song! I figured Alistair had probably never danced just for the fun of it, and thought maybe it was time he should! I also didn't think that the Warden got to have a very good reaction to Alistair's confession, which is why Aedan does a little yelling here :). Don't worry, Ayla will have more of a reaction to his news later when they're alone. Hope everyone enjoyed!