A/N: Thanks as usual to those who've favorited, followed, reviewed, and read in general!
Special thanks to PheonixTears589 and Kenjie11 for their very encouraging words in regards to the last chapter! Please read and review everyone, help keep my muse happy!
**This one contains a bit of smut at the start. Not full-on smut, but for those of you who don't wish to read it, please skip down to the first break in the chapter. Everything following that is only plot related and smut-free. For those of you who are going to read it, it's my first attempt at writing smut for public consumption, so please be gentle! *hides*
Chapter 15: Nights at Camp
Alistair had just returned to camp from bathing at the river when he saw Zevran talking to Ayla. He scowled as he approached the two of them. Ever since they'd made camp for the night, the elf had made suggestive comments to everyone, including himself and Aedan, though he wasn't sure how serious Zevran had been about the last two. But his comments had most often been directed at Ayla and Leliana, and though Alistair had warned him off more than once, the elf had continued, and Ayla wouldn't let him intervene directly, saying it wasn't worth bothering over.
But that did not sooth his jealousy at all. He could feel it boiling through his veins as he got close enough to hear Ayla say, "You will have to give me another chance to spar with you, only without holding back this time."
"Such a slanderous accusation, my dear!" Zevran exclaimed, hand over his heart. "You wound me!"
"I will if you hold back on me again," Ayla retorted.
"Ah, well, if you truly wish to spar with me and see which one of us comes out on top, I will of course be more than happy to indulge you, my dear," Zevran smirked at her, his tone as suggestive as always.
"Zevran," Alistair growled as he reached them. He would have said more, but Ayla turned to him with a bright smile.
"Alistair, there you are! Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
He paused, all anger draining out of him as he looked down at her and she winked. He suddenly remembered what she'd said about coming to find her at camp. She'd obviously been to the river already to wash up like he had been, since her hair was down in all its fiery glory and she was wearing the cotton tunic and leggings she liked to wear around camp, just as he was. All thoughts of Zevran flew from his head, replaced by a wave of nervousness and desire at the thought of being alone with her.
"O-of course, if you want to," he managed, taking the arm she was holding out to him as though he were escorting her at a ball.
"Ah, I see that we will have to spar some other time. It appears as though you are already . . . busy, as it were." Zevran looked back and forth between the two of them, a wicked grin on his face.
Alistair was torn between being embarrassed and being smug that Zevran obviously knew what they had in mind. Ayla obviously had no such qualms, for she merely smiled at the elf and said, "Indeed we are. Have a good night, Zevran."
She turned and tugged on Alistair's arm to lead him away from Zevran, back towards the river, as Zevran called after her, "Alas, I fear it will not be as good as your night."
Embarrassed it is, Alistair thought, feeling his face flame as Ayla led him out of the camp. Fortunately, Wynne had already been sleeping in her tent, and Aedan and Leliana had been talking at the far side of the campsite from where they had been, so he hoped they hadn't heard what Zevran had said. He wasn't really sure that he wanted everybody to know they'd gone off alone.
Ayla stopped when they got to the edge of the river and sank down gracefully onto the grassy bank. It was a beautiful summer night, just warm enough not to be uncomfortable, and the reflection of the moon and stars shimmered on the water. But Alistair only had eyes for her as she patted the grass next to her. His palms were sweating, his heart was racing, and he couldn't decide if he was more nervous or eager.
"Relax, Alistair." She smiled up at him as she tucked her feet underneath her. "Sit down."
He sank down onto the grass next to her, a good deal less gracefully than she had, and willed himself to calm down. He twisted his hands together, not sure what he should do next.
She laid a hand on his knee. "Alistair, look at me."
So he did, thinking again as he looked at her how beautiful she was. What if he did something wrong? What if she decided she wasn't interested anymore? He didn't know if he could take it if he screwed this up, and Maker forbid, she decided Zevran was more worth her while.
She squeezed his knee, smiling reassuringly as she said, "I know you haven't had much opportunity for this sort of thing before. Aedan told me a bit about what being raised in the Chantry is like. You were raised to look at the idea of being with someone much differently than I was. So, I guess what I'm saying is, I don't want to go too fast for you. Let's just enjoy being alone together for once and we'll stop whenever you want to stop."
Alistair stared at her in astonishment. What he had done to deserve a woman like this? He didn't even know what to say in response to her generous understanding. "I - I – thank you," he stammered at last. "You're right, I . . . don't really know what I'm doing here, or what to do next."
She smiled and shrugged at him, her eyes twinkling. "Do whatever you want to do. Like, do you want to kiss me?"
"Maker, yes," he breathed. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath of air. And, at least, he sort of knew what he was doing when it came to that. He leaned down towards her, all his focus on those lips of hers.
She reached up, looping a hand around the back of his neck, and pulled his head the rest of the way down to hers. When their mouths met, he forgot entirely about being nervous as fire raced through his veins. He reached for her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap, never breaking away from her mouth.
She chuckled softly against his lips as she wrapped her other arm around his neck and pressed herself more fully against him. For the first time, he could feel the warmth and softness of her body against him as they kissed, only cotton separating them now instead of armor. It was the most incredible sensation, he thought hazily as she straddled his lap.
He kept one arm wrapped around her waist as he put his other hand at the back of her head, tangling his hand in that wonderful hair of hers, which felt as silky as he'd always thought it would. He ravished her mouth as he kept her pressed tightly against him, loving the taste of her, the feel of her wrapped around him. He was becoming harder by the second.
She pulled her mouth back a little ways from his, drawing in a deep breath. "Anything else you'd like to do?"
He stared at her uncomprehendingly before she added, "You can touch me wherever you'd like, you know." She leaned up and whispered against his ear, "I liked the way you touched me the first time you kissed me."
He shuddered from the feel of her hot breath on his ear, and it took him a second to realize what she was talking about. She meant when he'd squeezed that lovely, rounded backside of hers. And she'd . . . liked that? She nodded when she saw the comprehension in his eyes.
He took the hand resting on the swell of her hip and slid it over her bottom, squeezing gently. She moaned and bit her lip as he did so, and all his blood rushed straight south. She gave him a quick, fierce kiss. "Touch me, kiss me, wherever you want to."
Kiss her wherever he wanted to? Well . . . he gently tilted her head to the side with his other hand and nudged her hair out of the way, before placing a kiss just behind her ear, laving the area with his tongue. Encouraged when she gasped, "Oh, yes, Alistair," he continued on his way down the side of her neck.
He alternated between kissing, licking, and sometimes gently sucking as he made his way down her lovely neck, enjoying the taste of her skin and the noises she made as he did so. Her hands were roaming all over his shoulders and back, creating trails of fire wherever they went, and she would occasionally rock on his lap, shooting white hot lust through his groin. He felt incredible; he'd never realized how amazing this would feel, and suddenly understood why all his Warden brothers had been so obsessed with it.
He started exploring her with his other hand, trailing it back to her hip and then up underneath her tunic, loving the softness of her skin under his hand. He let his hand roam all over her back and sides as he kissed his way across her collarbone and down to the v-neck of her tunic. "Ayla," he murmured against her skin, "you're so soft and you taste so good."
"Alistair, hold on a second," she said breathlessly, putting a hand to his chest and pulling back a little. He was confused, dropping his hands to his sides, wondering if he'd done something wrong, until she pulled her tunic over her head.
His breath left him in a whoosh as he took in the sight of all that bare, creamy white skin, the only thing left being her breast band wrapped around her chest. She reached up behind her back and undid the clasp, unravelling the breast band. He watched her movements like a hawk until the band fell away, and groaned aloud at the sight of her full breasts and rosy nipples when they were finally bared to his gaze.
"It isn't fair for me to be the only one shirtless," she murmured, smiling as she tugged at the hem of his tunic. Taking the hint, he pulled his own tunic off, tossing it aside.
He was thrilled at her reaction when her eyes widened and she licked her lips before running her soft hands over his chest and his abdomen. "You're even more handsome than I thought," she breathed.
"I . . . I am?" He didn't even realize she'd thought he was handsome; no woman, at least, no woman that wasn't a prostitute, had ever told him so. But he couldn't doubt her words, not when she was nodding and looking at him like that, her eyes blazing with desire. Her hands drifted to the waistband of his leggings, and his whole body jerked when her nails grazed his skin there. He gasped and grabbed her wrists. His control over his arousal was slipping; if she touched him there now, he'd embarrass himself completely. "Hold on, I'm not done touching you yet."
"Oh?" She grinned wickedly at him. "Then by all means, touch away."
Letting go of her wrists, he settled his hands at her hips, pulling her closer again. Deciding to pick up where'd he left off, he pressed his lips to the upper swell of her left breast, then began trailing his mouth down until it reached his ultimate target. When he pulled her nipple into his mouth, she gasped and arched her back, giving him better access as her fingers tangled in his hair, holding his head in place. Enjoying the little mewling noises slipping from her throat, and the way her hands clutched at his hair, he suckled on her for a little longer before switching his mouth to her other breast.
He'd never felt like this before, he thought as his hands began to roam her body again. It was like he was on fire, his blood molten lava, his body tingling everywhere they touched. And he'd never felt so confident in his life before as he did now, knowing that he was the one giving Ayla such pleasure, which in turn, seemed to give him more pleasure. He mentally thanked his fellow Wardens for the advice they'd pushed on him so long ago, knowing that it was coming in handy now.
She was leaning over him, pressing kisses to his neck and shoulder, running her hands over his back, as he continued his attentions on her breast. He trailed his hand up and caressed her other breast, squeezing gently, then pinching her nipple. As he did that, she suddenly bit down on his shoulder, and the combination of pain and pleasure was so electrifying that his hips bucked beneath her.
She gasped, then ground down on his lap, and he pulled his mouth away from her, suddenly unable to focus on anything but the sensation throbbing in his loins. "Ayla," he moaned, before dragging her mouth to his, needing to taste her again.
As he kissed her fiercely, holding her head in place again as his other hand kneaded her breast, she rode his lap in a grinding rhythm that was winding him tighter and tighter. His hips began bucking up to meet her of their own accord, and he could feel the vibrations of the gasps and moans she was making inside his mouth, which only aroused him further.
He pulled his mouth away from hers, gasping for air as she rode him relentlessly. The pressure was building faster and faster in his body. "Ayla . . . I . . . think I'm going to . . ."
"Me too," she groaned, burying her face in his neck and holding onto him as she kept going, never breaking her rhythm. Suddenly, she gave a sharp cry before biting into the side of his neck, and the jolt that sent through him finished him off. His back arched and he clutched her convulsively to him as his release hit him and he saw stars.
He fell back on the grass, simply laying there, trying to catch his breath as she lay on top of him. He hadn't let go of her, his arm still clutching her around her waist, and after soothing the place she'd bit with her tongue, she laid her head on his chest.
"That . . . that was incredible," he managed at last, feeling that word was completely inadequate to describe what had just happened. "I've never felt anything like that before. I . . . was that okay?"
She chuckled, lifting her head to look up at him. If he'd thought she looked beautiful before, it was nothing to how she looked now, hair mussed, lips bright red from his kiss, eyes glowing with a soft light as she smiled. "You just gave me an intense orgasm without even taking all my clothes off and you're asking if it's okay?" She laughed again as his face flamed. "Not only was it okay, it was amazing, and I hope you do it again sometime. If you want to, of course." She winked at him.
"Maker's breath, how could I not want to do that again?" He tucked strands of her hair behind her ear, watching her face soften as he trailed his hand down her cheek. "You're so beautiful. I am a lucky man."
He was surprised when she blushed and ducked her head at his words. "I . . . I don't know about that," she said softly. "I'm not anything special, really."
His eyes widened. How could she think that about herself? "Yes, you are," he said firmly, catching her chin in his hand and making her look at him. "You're brave, compassionate, generous, smart, funny . . ."
She cut him off by pressing her lips to his, kissing him passionately, her tongue rubbing against his even as the rest of her body rubbed against his bare chest. By the time she was finished and pulled back, he could barely remember his own name. "What was I saying?" he asked dazedly.
She smiled. "Nothing important. Do you want to . . . keep going?"
"I . . ." he hesitated. He really wasn't sure. He'd loved what they were just doing, and he still wanted her with a surprising fierceness, but at the same time, he really wanted his first time to be something . . . special. Perfect. He wanted it to really mean something, to happen in the perfect place. He wasn't sure if this was it. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to go . . . all the way, just yet. I mean, I am, but I'm not . . . I must sound like an idiot. Turning down an incredible woman like you? I mean, I'd have to be."
"It's okay, I understand." She smiled at him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You don't take this sort of thing lightly. I can wait until you're ready."
"See what I mean?" He smiled at her in turn, pulling her back down for another tender kiss. "I am a lucky man. So . . .was that my reward? Because if so, it was much better than cheese."
She laughed. "I should hope it was! And no, I actually had something a little different in mind, but you distracted me. Still, I suppose it worked out just as well in the end."
Something different? What exactly had she been planning to do? "What were you going to do instead?"
She winked at him as she pushed herself off his chest, going to collect her breastband and tunic. "You'll just have to wait and see next time, won't you?"
"Oh, that's not fair," he groaned as he sat up, enjoying the view as she leaned over to pick up her clothes. "You are an evil woman."
"Am I?" she grinned as she wrapped her breastband back on. "Come on, we'd better get back before everyone gets worried."
Alistair sighed as he went to collect his own tunic. He wasn't looking forward to going back and not being alone with her anymore, especially if it meant Zevran flirting with her again. But he knew she was right. The two of them finished dressing and made their way back to camp. As he wrapped an arm around her, he was already wondering when he'd be able to get her alone again. They didn't have to go all the way, but he certainly wouldn't mind a repeat of what they'd just done.
As it turned out, with the way the watch schedules worked out for the next few nights, and with all the bandits and other issues they ran across on their way back to Redcliffe, they weren't able to spend much time alone. At best, they were able to steal a few kisses and caresses before someone or something would interrupt them. Then, on the last night on the road before they reached Redcliffe, Alistair had the nightmare.
It started out as the typical darkspawn dream he'd become used to. The archdemon was there, growling and snarling its unintelligible commands to the horde screaming below it. The whole thing was, as usual, fuzzy and difficult to make out. But then, it suddenly morphed into something different.
He was on a battlefield, fighting for his life against the darkspawn. As he rounded a corner, he saw the archdemon in front of him. He stumbled to a halt as he saw the bodies gruesomely stacked around it, and recognized his friends. Aedan, Leliana, Morrigan, Sten, Wynne, even Zevran, were all lying dead around it, along with everyone he'd ever known or met before. And as he watched, the archdemon flung something out of its mouth, which landed at his feet.
Ayla's lifeless green eyes stared up at him, her body twisted and mangled, her hair now the red of blood. As he crumpled to his knees in grief and despair, a scream ripped from his throat.
He woke up with a start, sitting up in his tent, trembling and shaking. Aedan was suddenly there, pulling aside the tent flap, dressed only in leggings, looking as though he'd been pulled from sleep, slightly wild-eyed. "Are you all right? What happened?"
"It was . . . the darkspawn dreams. At least . . . it was at the start." He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.
Ayla appeared next to Aedan, dressed in her armor, as she'd been on watch, looking at him with concern. "Alistair? What's wrong?"
He grabbed her arm, pulling her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce embrace. She froze for a second before hugging him in turn. He could feel his heart rate finally steadying now that he had her, warm and alive, in his arms. "Nightmares," he mumbled into her hair.
Aedan studied him, grey eyes dark with sympathy. "It wasn't the typical dream? Do you remember what you saw?"
"Yes, it was . . . it started out like it normally does. But then, it changed. I was fighting darkspawn, and the archdemon was there. And everyone was dead around it. You, Leliana, Morrigan, everyone. Then the archdemon . . . flung something at me. I looked down, and saw it was . . . what was left of . . ." He couldn't bring himself to say it, but his arms tightened around Ayla, desperate to keep her safe.
"It was me, wasn't it?" Ayla asked softly, pulling back to look up at him, touching his face gently.
He nodded, swallowing convulsively. "I – I woke up after that."
Aedan nodded slowly. "It sounds like the same one I just had, more or less."
"What, you mean . . . even that part at the end?" Alistair stared at him in confusion as Aedan nodded. "But that doesn't make sense. We should only share the part where the archdemon talks to the horde."
"I think . . ." Aedan hesitated, then continued, "I think that last part was the archdemon talking to us. Taunting us, basically. 'Here's what I'll do to your friends, you're all going to die'."
"Oh, great. Well, it would seem we have its attention," Alistair said sarcastically. "I didn't even know it could do that."
"What are you two talking about?" Ayla pulled all the way back from Alistair to look between the two of them. "Do you two dream about the archdemon often? Why doesn't it send dreams to the rest of us? We're all going after it, aren't we?"
Alistair hesitated, looking at Aedan. He nodded in response. "You might as well tell her. I think we owe her that much. I'll take the watch for now; I don't think I can sleep for a while anyway." Aedan walked away, leaving the two of them alone in Alistair's tent.
"Well?" Ayla looked at him expectantly. "What is it that you have to tell me? That the archdemon somehow talks to the two of you?"
Alistair shook his head slowly, trying to think of how to explain it. "Not exactly. It's to do with us being Grey Wardens. Do you remember how I told you that the Joining changes our bodies?" When she nodded, he went on, "Well, it's because we take the taint into us. We . . . deliberately drink the blood of darkspawn, magically enhanced somehow, and become tainted. There's not a lot of people who make it out of the Joining alive."
Ayla was watching him, her expression frustratingly unreadable. "I take it this helps you fight the darkspawn somehow?"
He nodded. "We can sense the darkspawn with enough practice, so we know where they are and when they're coming, how many of them there are. We also seem to be faster, stronger, better able to recover from wounds. And the most important part of it is that we are able to use the taint in us to defeat the archdemon. Only Grey Wardens can do it, so only we can truly end the Blight."
She raised her eyebrows. "How? How do you use it to defeat the archdemon?"
"I –" Alistair paused, suddenly realizing he didn't actually know. All he knew was that Duncan had told him they used the taint. He'd never actually gone into detail. "I don't know. Duncan . . . never got around to telling me that."
She nodded, but he could tell that she was wondering just how they were supposed to defeat the archdemon now, just like he was. "So these dreams are some kind of side effect?"
He snorted. "I guess you could say that. We get a few wonderful things in exchange for our ability to defeat the darkspawn. The dreams are one; we hear the archdemon when it speaks to the horde, and we feel it, just like they do. With enough practice, you can block them, I'm told, but I haven't been able to do it so far."
He hesitated, watching her, wondering if he should tell her the rest. Well, if she was going to be involved with him at all, it was only fair that she should know. "We also don't have to worry about dying of old age. The taint gets even those of us that survive the Joining eventually; I've got about 30 years left, give or take. And it makes it very difficult for us to have children, or so I've been told."
She was still watching him, but he couldn't tell what she thought. There was sympathy on her face, but there was something else there too. Guilt, maybe? That didn't make any sense, though. What could she have to feel guilty about? "I'm . . . sorry, Alistair," she said at last. "That's just . . . horrible. I can't imagine what you all must go through. But you say this . . . taunting, as Aedan called it, is new?"
He reached for her, a little scared that she would refuse now that she knew everything about what he was, but she went into his arms again willingly and he hugged her close as he thought about the dream. "Duncan never mentioned anything about the archdemon being able to talk to us directly. Maybe it never has before. It could be because there's only two of us that it's easier to get at us, I don't know. But yes, that's . . . new." He chuckled hollowly as the image of a lifeless Ayla flashed before his eyes again. "And what a wonderful surprise that was."
"I'm sorry," she said again. "That must have been . . . horrifying. Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"
He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I doubt it. Why don't you go sleep, and I'll join Aedan on watch. Maybe eventually one of us can try to go back to sleep."
She looked up at him, frowning. "Are you sure you don't want to try? I can go back on watch, I don't mind."
"No, I don't think I even want to try." He got to his feet, pulling her up with him, and reaching for his sword and shield. The two of them left the tent.
She turned to go to her tent, but turned abruptly back. "Thank you for telling me about the Grey Wardens. I think you're all incredibly brave." She went up on her toes to kiss him again quickly before turning and leaving.
He watched her go for a minute, marvelling at how easily she'd somehow made him feel better already. Was it any wonder he was falling for her? He didn't know what he'd do if that dream came true. He went and joined Aedan on watch, trying very hard not to think about the dream anymore. But neither he nor Aedan got any more sleep that night.
They reached Redcliffe Castle the next day in the middle of the afternoon. Morrigan was already waiting outside the castle walls for them. Alistair had no idea how she'd managed to know they were coming before anybody else did.
"Here you are at last," she said caustically, throwing her hands up in the air. "I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten lost."
Aedan flashed her a grin. "Worried about me, were you?"
Morrigan snorted. "Hardly. I was merely wanting to leave this place as soon as possible." She noticed Zevran and Wynne and her eyes narrowed. "Picked up more strays, I see?"
"I suppose you could say that." Aedan turned and gestured to Wynne. "Wynne, this is Morrigan, a mage and one of our fellow companions. Morrigan, this is Wynne, a mage of the Circle who decided to lend us her healing powers. And this is . . ."
"Zevran, my ravishing beauty, at your service." Zevran had suddenly appeared before Morrigan and was bowing low. "I am available to help you with anything if you so . . . desire."
"And he's the lecherous elven assassin we didn't kill for some reason," Alistair finished for Aedan. Since Zevran was still driving him insane with his incessant flirting with Ayla, he secretly hoped that the elf would transfer his affections to Morrigan. Then, if he was lucky, maybe Morrigan would kill him or turn him into a frog.
"I desire nothing from you, elf," Morrigan sneered. "Now begone."
"Anyway," Aedan interjected, pushing his way between the two of them, "how did everything go while we were gone?"
They all began making their way inside the castle while Morrigan explained what had happened while they'd been away. She and Jowan had been able to keep Connor under control until Irving and the other Circle mages had arrived. They'd then begun the ritual, and apparently Morrigan herself had gone into the Fade and confronted the demon, saying she hadn't trusted anyone else to be able to do it. She'd succeeded in killing it inside the Fade, and Connor had awakened none the wiser. Irving and the other mages had left to go back to the Circle this morning, and everybody was now merely awaiting their return. Sten and Striker were currently out hunting out of sheer boredom, apparently.
When they entered the main hall of the castle, they found Teagan and Isolde waiting there for them. After exchanging greetings, Aedan proceeded to ask how Connor was.
"He seems to be his old self," Teagan replied. "He does not seem to remember anything, which is a blessing. I suppose we will need to send him to the Circle of Magi's tower for . . . training, once the war is over. It's so odd to think of the boy as a mage, of all things. Eamon has much to mourn and rebuild, should he recover. But at least he can be thankful that both his son and wife are safe."
Lady Isolde smiled and bowed to Aedan. "I owe you my deepest thanks. I had nearly . . . I can scarcely believe Connor is the boy he once was."
"There is still the matter of Jowan," Teagan continued before Aedan could reply. "His poisoning Eamon began this whole mess, yet he lives. I must decide what becomes of him. We will hold him for Eamon to decide his fate. If he doesn't recover, Jowan's fate is sealed. What do you think?"
Aedan frowned, running a hand through his hair as he considered and everyone looked on. "I think that is probably best for now. He did help us, but he also set in motion an incredible amount of damage. And if Eamon doesn't live, I don't think there is any way he can redeem himself. Do as you like with him."
Teagan nodded. "Very well. I shall have the mage imprisoned again for now. But our task is not done yet. Whatever the demon did to my brother, it seems to have spared his life . . . but he remains comatose. We cannot wake him."
What? Alistair thought. After everything they'd gone through, they still hadn't succeeded in saving Eamon? What would they do if he didn't recover? They couldn't possibly face Loghain without him.
"The Urn!" Lady Isolde cried. "The Urn of Sacred Ashes will save Eamon!"
Aedan raised his eyebrows skeptically and crossed his arms. "The Urn is a legend, is it not? What makes you think it will ever be found?"
"There's a possibility it won't, but there is a reason it's still an option. I am not simply grasping at straws," Teagan informed them.
Lady Isolde stepped forward, staring seriously at Aedan. "My husband funded the research of a scholar in Denerim – a Brother Genitivi. He has been studying the inscriptions on Andraste's Birth Rock. When Eamon fell ill, I sent the knights to speak to Genitivi. I hoped that he had finally discovered the location of the Urn itself. They were unable to locate Genitivi. In desperation, I sent more knights in search of the brother or some clue of the Urn's location."
Alistair watched Aedan, wondering what he would do. Did he actually think it was possible to find the Urn, or worth their time to search for it? There was still so much that they had to do. After a long moment of consideration, Aedan nodded. "I will see if I can find this Genitivi, to start with. If he's found something useful, I will attempt to find the relic."
Teagan nodded, both his and Isolde's faces lighting up with relief. "No one else can. Even if I wished to do it myself, I cannot abandon Redcliffe to its own devices. Perhaps you could seek out the brother's home in Denerim and see if any clues remain on his whereabouts. It is the only place to begin the search, I think. I must continue with the rebuilding. You are welcome to stay here for the night, if you wish. I wish you luck, and may the Maker go with you."
"I think it would be best if we could stay here for the night, and we will set out for Denerim in the morning," Aedan said, looking up at Lady Isolde. "If you wouldn't mind getting our rooms prepared, I'd like to confer with my companions."
"Of course!" Isolde exclaimed. She bustled from the main hall, waving for servants, who followed her up the stairs.
Aedan led them outside to the courtyard, where he turned to address them all. "I think it would be a good idea to go through the Brecilian forest on our way to Denerim. If we happen to come across the trail of the Dalish, we will go find them first and see about getting them to join us. If we don't see anything immediately obvious, we'll continue heading north to Denerim. I'd like to see what the situation is in Denerim, anyway, and we can get some better equipment there. Does anyone object?"
Morrigan snorted loudly. "I think 'tis foolishness to go looking for the ashes of a dead woman. Even did you find them, 'tis no guarantee they would actually heal the man."
"But think how incredible it would be if we did find the ashes of Andraste Herself!" Leliana exclaimed.
"I would have to say I agree with Morrigan," Ayla said, shrugging. "It does sound a bit like they are grasping at straws to heal Arl Eamon. Sorry, Alistair," she added.
He smiled down at her. "Don't worry about it. As much as I want the Arl to live, I think it's a bit of a wild goose chase myself."
Aedan nodded thoughtfully, looking at Wynne and Zevran, who shook their heads, apparently not comfortable enough in the group yet to offer opinions. "I'm inclined to agree, actually. But as I said, I'd like to go to Denerim anyway. And if we don't find anything useful at this Genitivi's place, I won't bother continuing the search. We'll continue on with collecting aid for the Blight, and we'll have to hope that Teagan can fill in for his brother."
Alistair sighed. He sincerely hoped that they would find something useful in Denerim, as much as he doubted it. He'd also have to find a chance to ask Aedan if he could visit his sister while they were there. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound like the best plan. I think we should go through the Brecilian Forest on the way, as well."
Everyone else nodded in agreement. "All right, it's settled," Aedan declared. "We'll leave for the Brecilian Forest in the morning. Try to get some rest in a real bed while you have the chance, everyone. It'll be a long time before we see another one."
They all split up, and Alistair made his way back inside the castle with Ayla to find some food. He was sincerely hoping that the worst was over. Maybe their luck had finally changed, and they would find the Dalish, gain their support, and get the information they needed for the Urn. If Ayla was there with him, he thought, he felt sure he could do anything.