A/N: Well, this is about a week, and a day, later than I meant to have it up. I actually got it all written yesterday but didn't have time to go over it and post it, so you're getting it today instead! The next chapter will be the last one, and if anyone's wondering, yes, it will pick up exactly where this one leaves off ;). And there should be no reason why I can't have it up by the biweekly mark this time. Anyway, hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, and read the story so far - it would be great to hear from you all as well!
Special thanks to the reviewers of the last chapter. To Guest Jay Silver - I'm very glad you both decided to give the story a chance in spite of your uncertainty about an OC, and that you liked where I went with it! And to Guest Judy, I'm glad you enjoyed it! Extra special thanks to faithful reviewers eriaaile, Lethal Dragon, NoleeJade, Asilyessam, Candle in the Night and WolFang1011 - I always love hearing from you guys!
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Chapter 56: The Hero of Ferelden
"So, are you ready for your celebration, oh Hero of Ferelden?" Alistair was grinning teasingly at Aedan as he asked the question at the door to his room, causing Aedan to roll his eyes.
It was two weeks now since the battle with the archdemon, and Anora had decided that things had recovered to the point where a celebration could be held to bring morale up and to give the Fereldan citizens a reason to be happy and cheerful at long last. Therefore, she had decided that a parade through Denerim would be held to celebrate the victory over the archdemon, with Aedan at its head. Prior to the celebration, however, Anora's coronation would be held within the castle, to which the nobles and all the major players in the battle would be invited. His own coronation would not occur until after he and Anora wed, which would not be for a few weeks yet, but he still had the parade to deal with in the meantime. And to his dismay, Aedan had discovered that most of the credit for the victory was being given to him; apparently, the people of Ferelden had even gone so far as to give him the title of hero, and it was not a title he was overly fond of.
"Don't you start calling me that," he told Alistair sternly. Bad enough he had to hear it from everyone else; he certainly wasn't going to take it from someone who had fought the archdemon at his side.
Alistair gave him a large, unrepentant grin as he shrugged, hands up. "Why not? It is one of your titles now, after all."
"Not one I've done anything to earn," Aedan retorted, retreating into his room to grab his sword and finish getting ready for the ceremony. Alistair followed him in, closing the door behind him as he waited. Aedan strapped his sword on, sighing. "I just – I don't understand why everyone seems to be giving me the credit. Yes, I dealt the final blow to the archdemon, but I certainly didn't fight it alone, nor did I even do the most damage to it."
"Well, maybe not, but it's not only about the archdemon, either," Alistair answered as Aedan went about applying the last few pieces of the largely ceremonial armor Anora had insisted he wear. When Aedan looked over at his Warden brother, raising an eyebrow in question, Alistair went on, "It's about everything. The Blight, the gathering of the army, the problems that were solved to get our allies to help – you led us through it all. That's why they're calling you the hero, because you were at the head of it. And, I think, people find it easier to have one particular person to shower their gratitude on."
Aedan shook his head. "But I didn't do any of the rest of it alone, either. You and everyone else were there to help me every step of the way."
"Of course you didn't do it alone," Alistair agreed, "but the people don't know everyone involved, or what they did. They just know that you took command, confronted Loghain at the Landsmeet and outmanoeuvred him, led the army into battle, and dealt the final blow to the archdemon. That makes you a hero to them, so I say you should take the title and use it to do some good. It's not often a Warden gets made into a public hero; you can use that to make sure no one forgets about what we've done for them again."
Aedan stared at Alistair in surprise; he hadn't really thought about it that way, but now that his brother had put into words, he could see his point. As much as he didn't want the title of hero, it did carry with it a lot of weight and influence, especially as he would be taking the throne. He could use that influence to make sure that no one forgot what they owed the Wardens, ever again, not to mention all the other good he could do for the various people of Ferelden. And he could see to it that the others all got the credit due them, starting with Alistair.
"You have a good point," he said at last. "I'll see what I can do with the title to benefit the Wardens and everyone else. But I still don't want you calling me that, or I'll hit you. Got it?"
Alistair grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't worry, hero, I've got it." He laughed when Aedan shot him a glare, raising a gauntleted fist in his direction. "Last time, I swear."
"Right," Aedan drawled, suspecting that it would be far from the last time Alistair chose to tease him with the title, but he couldn't help grinning anyway. He was pleased to see him in such high spirits; during the battle, when Ayla had been thrown free of the archdemon, he had thought she might not survive, and had feared the devastating consequences that would have on Alistair. Seeing how his brother had been while she'd been recovering, before she'd awakened, he knew he'd been right; if she hadn't lived, Alistair would never have been the same. He might even have gone off and gotten himself killed.
Much to Aedan's relief, though, that hadn't happened. Aside from how it would have affected Alistair, he would have missed Ayla himself, not to mention how the others of their party would have felt. That all of his friends had managed to get through the battle intact was something that Aedan thanked the Maker for on a daily basis. And he was pleased for Alistair that everything had turned out so well for him; Alistair had informed him the other day that Ayla had accepted the ring Aedan had helped him pick out, and the two intended to get married soon, likely not long after his wedding to Anora. So it was no surprise to see him in such high spirits, in spite of all that had happened.
He strapped the last bit of the rather gaudy armor on; it was similar to Alistair's, but where his was gold, Aedan's was silver plate, accented with black and, in Aedan's opinion, topped with overly large pauldrons. In short, it was not something he would have ever worn into battle, and he doubted Alistair would have either; but Anora had insisted, saying that the Wardens should be outfitted in new armor befitting the occasion. From the sounds of it, she'd given all of their party new outfits, though it would only be himself, Alistair, Oghren and Sten that had new armor. Aedan supposed it would be difficult to find gleaming leather armor or something of the sort for the rest, so they had been given formal outfits or dresses to wear instead.
He gestured to the armor, asking Alistair in a resigned tone, "How does it look?"
"Well, it looks like it's on right, if that's what you're asking." Alistair shrugged when Aedan raised his eyebrows at him. "What? I'm not keen on it either, but you're the one who said we should wear it."
Aedan sighed. "Because it's a ceremony, and Anora insisted that as the guests of honour, we have to dress appropriately. And she's got a point, even if I don't like it."
"In that case, you look very ceremonially appropriate. Now can we go? We're going to be late at this rate." Alistair gestured to the door behind him.
"Yeah, let's go." Aedan headed toward the door, asking Alistair as they went through it and started down the hallway towards the main hall, "What's got you in such a hurry for this, anyway?"
"After Anora's coronation is done, I've got a surprise for you," Alistair informed him. Aedan must have looked slightly alarmed, because Alistair grinned and added, "Don't worry, it's a pleasant surprise, I promise."
"If you say so." Aedan followed him towards the ceremony, wondering just what sort of surprise was in store for him when he got there.
Aedan watched from his place below the steps leading up to the throne as Anora knelt in front of the Revered Mother, receiving her blessing and swearing the oaths to officially take her place as Queen. She was wearing a pale blue dress of silk accented with gold, a golden girdle around her waist to create the high-waisted style that she favoured, and her hair was done up carefully in its braided buns. She looked beautiful, Aedan had to admit, even if she wasn't the woman he wished he could be looking at right now.
Finally, the Revered Mother finished her speech, settling the golden circlet on Anora's head before gesturing to her to rise and turn to greet the crowd of nobles and warriors waiting below. The crowd cheered wildly as Anora waved to them all, smiling brightly. When the cheering finally died down, she launched into a speech of her own as the Revered Mother descended the stairs to join the crowd.
"My friends," Anora called out, her voice ringing out clearly over the hall, "we are gathered to celebrate those responsible for our victory. Of those who stood against the darkspawn siege in Denerim, there is one in particular who deserves commendation. The one who led the charge against the archdemon and killed it remains with us still, an inspiration to all he saved that day. Ladies and gentlemen, may I formally present my betrothed, Aedan Cousland, who shall soon be your king."
Taking his cue, Aedan went up the stairs towards her as the crowd cheered loudly behind him. He took Anora's hand, lifting it to his lips to press a lingering kiss there, bringing a light blush to her face. When he was done, he let her hand drop gently, giving her a cheeky grin when she frowned at him. Though they had spent a good deal of time together over the past couple of weeks, it had largely been concerned with official business, and little of it had been personal. This was likely the most he'd touched her in that time, and he'd thought that he might as well start remedying that, since they were getting married and all. Anora likely didn't agree with the timing of his decision, he realized, but her face softened at his grin. She had always been quick to forgive him, he reflected as he turned so that he was partially facing the crowd and partially facing her at the top of the stairs.
Anora gave him a slight, approving nod before she continued, her voice still loud enough to carry to the assembled crowd, "Aedan, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it only appropriate that I return the favour. As a reward and an engagement present, I offer you a boon of your choice."
Aedan cast a quick glance towards Alistair, waiting at the front of the crowd below, who nodded at the look, before turning back to Anora. "I would request that the sacrifices of the Wardens never be forgotten again."
She smiled, nodding in agreement. "An excellent point. We can begin with a monument here in Denerim dedicated to your companion Riordan and all the other Grey Wardens who fell to save us. We should also collect scholars to learn more about the darkspawn. We'll face them again, here and with the dwarves." She turned fully now to the crowd below, declaring, "Let it also be known that the arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There they can rebuild, following the example of those who went before them." She turned back to Aedan, saying in a lower voice, "There is a group of eager Fereldan citizens waiting outside for their parade to start so they may get a look at their hero and king. I suggest you make an appearance before they storm the gate." She chuckled lightly at the slight frown he couldn't quite keep from his face. "Just tell the guard at the door when you are ready."
"Thank you, Anora," he murmured sincerely. They had discussed granting a small tract of land to the Wardens, rather than having them continue to operate out of a building in Denerim, but he'd never thought she would agree to give them an entire arling, so he hadn't brought it up. The fact that she'd decided to do it on her own was more than he'd ever expected.
She smiled gently up at him. "You are most welcome. Now, go on. I believe Alistair had a surprise for you before the parade."
"You're in on this surprise of his?" he asked her, shocked. True, the two of them had been getting on better than he had expected, considering Anora had viewed Alistair as a danger to her throne before, but he hadn't thought they would be friendly enough to conspire together.
"Just go already," she told him, an edge of both impatience and amusement in her voice, and he finally did as he was told, descending the stairs.
The crowd below had broken up, some going to the tables set up along the sides with food and drink, others gathering in groups to discuss matters, some sitting up on the balconies above, others leaving the castle to go see the parade. Alistair was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, and gestured to him to follow as he went away from the stairs towards the back of the hall. "What is this surprise?" Aedan demanded as he followed Alistair.
"Do you remember that mission you sent me out on after Ayla first woke up?" Alistair asked over his shoulder. Aedan nodded, wondering what this could have to do with anything. "Well, I found someone that I thought you'd like to see. He wanted a few days to clean up and get settled before you saw him, so in the end, we decided a surprise at the celebration would be best."
Aedan was trying to work out who Alistair could possibly be referring to; obviously it wasn't Morrigan, since he'd said 'he', but who else could Alistair have found? At that moment, Alistair stopped by the corner of one of the balcony walls, gesturing to a man in red-tinged armor of chain mail overlaid with plates, who turned just as they were approaching. When Aedan glimpsed his face, the reddish-brown hair and the small, neatly trimmed beard he recognized so well, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him; he could only stare in utter disbelief at the brother he'd thought long dead.
He barely registered Alistair saying that he'd leave the two of them alone to catch up before he walked away; he was still trying to gather his scattered wits. "Fergus?" he managed at last, his voice coming out in a croak. "Is that really you?"
As if he'd merely been waiting for him to speak, Fergus grinned widely before pulling Aedan into one of his crushing bear hugs. Aedan returned the embrace fiercely, swallowing back the lump of tears in his throat, still a little dazed at the turn of events. He'd accepted that he was alone, that all his family was gone; to have his older brother alive and well in front of him was far beyond what he could ever have hoped for or dreamed of. Well, perhaps not as well as he had been, Aedan admitted to himself as they pulled back at last, and he noticed that his brother's face was thinner, more lined, with dark circles under his eyes and a slightly haunted expression lingering under the joy of reunion. Still, that was only to be expected, all things considered.
"Of course it's really me, little brother," Fergus said, whacking him on the back of the shoulder. "Do you doubt your eyes?"
"Well, yes," Aedan admitted. "I've thought you dead for a year now; I assumed you'd died at Ostagar along with everyone else. If I had known . . . I swear I would have looked everywhere for you."
"I know you would have," Fergus assured him quietly, "but how could you possibly have known? At any rate, it sounds like you had far too much to do to be searching for me." He shook his head in wonder. "When I heard that my little brother was not only a Grey Warden but also leading Ferelden into battle? I was surprised, to put it mildly. Father . . . he would have been so proud of you. I know I am. You've done good."
Aedan stared at his older brother in astonishment. "Fergus, how can you say that? I failed you! I'm . . . I'm so sorry. You trusted me to look after Oren and Oriana, and I . . . by the time I killed the men that came for me and got to their room, it was too late. I didn't save them. I didn't manage to save anyone except myself," he finished with disgust. He'd thought he'd come more to terms with what had happened, but having to face Fergus and admit just how completely he'd failed in his duty to protect his family brought all his shame and disgust with himself boiling to the surface again.
"Stop it, Aedan," Fergus ordered him quietly, squeezing his shoulder. "It was not your fault, and you didn't fail me. You did the best you could; no one could have known or guessed what Howe was planning to do. If anyone had, I would never have left with almost all of our troops that day. You are not to blame," he continued firmly, as fury started to darken his face and creep into his voice. "That greedy, traitorous bastard Howe was the one to blame. I just wish I'd been there to help you kill him. At least Amaranthine now belongs to the Grey Wardens. There's some justice in that, I think."
Aedan took a shuddering breath, relief seeping into his body and easing some of his disgust with himself. Fergus didn't blame him, and while that didn't make him feel completely better, it did lighten some of the burden weighing on him. "I wish you'd been there too," he said softly. "I made him suffer for what he did, though, I promise you. But, how did you know about all this already?"
"Alistair told me when he found me," Fergus answered, gesturing to where Alistair stood at a table several feet away, talking to someone Aedan didn't recognize. "I ran across him and his men while I was trying to make my way to Denerim. You see, I never made it to the battle at Ostagar," he explained. "We were still scouting in the Wilds when we were attacked by a party of darkspawn. Most of my men were killed. I woke up two weeks later in a Chasind hut, wounded and feverish. By the time I was able to sneak out of the Wilds a little over a month ago, you were already marching to Denerim. I tried to get word to Highever, only to be told there was no one left to get word to. So I started to head to Denerim, deciding I'd try to find out what happened there, and heard all these rumours as I went about what had happened."
"It was more than a little confusing, the different versions I got. Some people said everyone was dead, some said you were still alive but no one knew where, some said you were with the Wardens but were probably dead now, and so on." Fergus shrugged, continuing, "By the time I ran into Alistair, I didn't know what to believe. Anyway, he asked me who I was and where I was going, and when I told him my name, he looked at me like he'd seen a ghost." Fergus chuckled, a little bitterly, Aedan thought, more than a little floored by his brother's tale. "That piqued my curiosity, so I asked him what he knew about me and Highever. He told me who he was and how he knew you, but he was a little reluctant to give me any more details. Said I should probably talk to you about it, but I told him I was sick of waiting to hear the truth, and I wasn't about to wait any longer. So he told me some of what had happened to you in the past year on our way back, starting with what Howe had done. It was all . . . a little difficult to hear. I was happy that you were still alive and Howe wasn't, but those were the only good parts of the story. I guess part of me had still been holding out hope that it wasn't as bad as I'd heard, and to find out otherwise . . . well . . . I needed a little time to adjust myself before I was fit company for anyone."
"Of course you did," Aedan agreed quietly, disturbed at the obvious pain on his older brother's face that he was trying so hard to mask. "I'm . . . so sorry about everything, Fergus. That . . . I was all you had to come back to."
Fergus scowled at him. "Don't be an idiot, little brother. There were times on my way back when I thought I would have no one at all to come back to. To find out I still had my brother, that I wasn't completely alone now, was the best thing that's happened to me in the past few months. I don't know how you handled being alone, thinking you were the only one left."
"I wouldn't say I handled it well," Aedan muttered, shrugging, "but I wasn't alone. If I really had been, I don't think I could have stayed sane."
"Yeah," Fergus smiled slightly, his expression lightening a bit. "It seems like you found yourself some really good friends while you were defeating the Blight. Like I said, little brother, you've done good. And I hear you're finally marrying Anora."
"Indeed, I am." Aedan plastered a bright smile on his face, as though he was overjoyed about it, although in truth, he'd been feeling a little depressed about it in the past couple of weeks. He wasn't, after all, marrying the woman that he loved, and he'd been lonelier than he'd expected to be since Morrigan had left. His bed had felt startlingly empty and cold without her in it, more so than he had realized it would be; the whole situation had made it hard to feel any enthusiasm for his upcoming wedding. The worst part of it all was he knew he had no right to complain about the situation; he'd brought it all on himself.
Fergus was regarding him speculatively, a suspicious frown on his face. "Hmm. You've fallen in love with someone else, haven't you?" he asked in a low voice.
Aedan was startled, to say the least. Judging by the grin on his older brother's face when he'd mentioned Anora, Aedan had guessed that Alistair must not have mentioned anything about Morrigan or the fact that the marriage was a political alliance, and he'd tried to act accordingly. "How did you –"
"Do you think I don't know you, Aedan?" Fergus demanded, still keeping his voice low after glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was near enough to hear what they were discussing. "Five years ago, you would have been ecstatic at the thought of marrying Anora. Now it seems like you're more depressed about it than anything, so that means you have to be in love with someone else. Who is it? Your friend didn't get into any specifics about anything besides the Blight and Howe. Is it her?"
Aedan followed his brother's gaze, realizing he was pointing at Ayla. She'd entered the hall late, obviously just returning from the scouting mission he'd sent her and Zevran on yesterday. She was weaving her way through the crowd in a flowing dress of navy blue, shot through with silver threads, her flaming hair loose, and had just reached Alistair. His fellow Warden slipped an arm around her waist, looking down at her with such love on his face that it almost hurt Aedan to see it, knowing he couldn't look at Morrigan that way. And as happy as he was for Alistair, he couldn't help feeling the slightest twinge of jealousy as well, knowing that Alistair would get to be with the woman he loved all the time, while Aedan himself would be lucky to see Morrigan every few months. He tried to ruthlessly quash his jealousy as he looked back at Fergus, shocked. "You mean Ayla? She's like a sister to me. Besides, she and Alistair are together, and even if I was attracted to her, I would never –"
"I know you wouldn't," Fergus interrupted him with a sigh. "Do you think I don't know that's part of the reason why you stayed away from Cailan and Anora after they got married? That's why I thought it would make sense that you're getting married to Anora, if the woman you were in love with now didn't return your feelings. So, if it's not her, then who?"
"She's not here," Aedan muttered as Fergus kept looking around the hall, realizing he wasn't going to get out of this without telling him everything. "She left after the battle. She's – well, she's an apostate." He proceeded to tell Fergus a shortened version of everything that had transpired between him and Morrigan, why they were not together, and why he'd decided to marry Anora. "There was no easy choice for me, big brother, no perfect happy ending. I think – this was the best I could hope for."
Fergus shook his head. "You know, Aedan, you can be terrifyingly practical sometimes. I always knew you were ambitious, though, as much as you tried to hide it. I was actually going to ask Father to give you the teyrnship, instead of me, before all of this happened. I never really wanted it, but I knew you did – and I knew you'd be good at it. But, since you're going to be King now, I suppose I have no choice."
Aedan stared at Fergus, blinking in shock. He'd never realized how well his big brother saw through him – he'd always thought he'd been better at hiding his feelings than that. "You – you knew?"
His older brother snorted at him. "Of course I knew. You weren't as good at hiding it as you thought you were. I don't think Father and Mother ever realized, but I could see the look on your face sometimes when you knew they weren't looking."
Aedan sighed. "I'm sorry, Fergus. It wasn't that I thought you wouldn't be good at it – I just wanted to be able to make a difference, and at the time, I didn't see any other way for me to do it."
"I wasn't mad about it," Fergus told him. "I just thought it was unfair that neither of us could do what we wanted just because of the order we were born in. When I saw how unhappy you were about being left behind while Father and I went to fight, I finally decided I was going to talk to him about it. But by then, it was too late." Fergus sighed, his green eyes looking a little watery before he went on, "At any rate, after everything that's happened, there's no way I'm abandoning Highever now. It will always belong to the Couslands."
"Yes, it will," Aedan agreed, squeezing his big brother's shoulder in turn. "I would not trust anyone else to watch over it, and I know Anora will agree. But, Fergus, if you become Teyrn, you do realize . . ." he hesitated, not wanting to voice it quite yet.
Fergus nodded, clearing his throat. "I know. Eventually, I'll have to . . . remarry. I don't think I can ever . . . that is, I think we'll both end up in political marriages."
"Fergus . . ." Aedan didn't know what to say. Tell him that he'd get over Oriana eventually? That one day he'd fall in love again? It wasn't like he could promise any of those things would happen, and there was no getting around the fact that Fergus would need another heir. Particularly as Aedan himself might not be able to provide any heirs, either for the throne or Highever.
"Don't worry about it, little brother." Fergus looked over his shoulder. "At any rate, I suppose I should let you get to your parade. Anora is waving at me rather impatiently. I'll talk to you again, before I head to Highever and see if I can clean up the mess Howe made of it. I hope you'll come to visit me when I do."
"Of course I will, as often as I can," Aedan promised him, though he wasn't sure how eager he was to go back. There would be a lot of bad memories for him there after what he'd seen, but he couldn't just refuse to visit Fergus. He'd just have to try to deal with the memories when he went.
"Good. Highever won't be the same without . . . everyone around. Take care of yourself, you hear? Or I'll find you and nag you like Mother did until you're ready to tear out your hair." Fergus smiled at him, though there was a sad quality to it that wrenched Aedan's heart, especially when he had a sudden vision of his mother nagging him about Striker being in the kitchens again.
"Of course I will," Aedan muttered, hugging Fergus again, patting him on the back as he pulled away. "You'd best take care of yourself, too. Let me know if you need to talk about anything."
"The same goes for you, little brother. Stop trying to hide it all," Fergus scolded him.
"Right," Aedan nodded, realizing Fergus was right. He likely did need to talk about things a little more, and it was good to know he had his big brother back that he could turn to if need be. He glanced around the room as he left Fergus, wondering if he should talk to anyone else, but seeing Anora making shooing motions at him, decided he'd best just get on with it. He could thank Alistair for finding Fergus later, and speak to the others as well.
He headed to the double doors leading out of the hall, and after speaking to the guard and finding out there was an escort waiting to parade him through the streets of Denerim, plastered a smile to his face and headed out to greet the waiting citizens. He'd make sure he used this new title of his to do something good for the Wardens and the people of Ferelden, after everything that he and everyone else had gone through to make all of this happen.
"You actually convinced Wynne to perform it for us?" Ayla asked, surprised. A few days ago, she and Alistair had gone to speak to Wynne and ask her to assist them with the bonding ceremony. They'd even go so far as to finally tell her where Ayla really came from, so that she'd fully understand why they wanted to do it. Wynne had turned them down at the time, however, and Ayla had thought that would be the end of it. She hadn't known that Alistair would go by himself to Wynne to convince her, but it appeared he'd succeeded at talking her into it at last. "I thought we'd have to wait for the next time we saw Morrigan."
Alistair nodded, smiling down at her in answer. "I did. She still took some convincing, mainly because of the blood aspect of it, but when I pointed out that the Joining ritual was very similar, and the Circle had helped with that at Ostagar, she eventually gave in. I also explained again how important it was to both of us. So . . . do you have everything that we need?"
"Thank you," she beamed up at him, "for trying again. It means so much to me." He smiled, his eyes warm as she went on, "And I think so, yes. I have the five candles, the red ribbon, and then there's the tokens we have to exchange that are of great import to each of us." She touched her armband.
"And you're sure you want to give that to me?" Alistair frowned at her, clearly concerned. "It is one of the only things you have left of your home."
"It is, yes, but you'll always be wearing it, and I'll always be with you, so it's not like I'm giving it away," she pointed out. "Besides, the locket is the only thing you have of your mother's. It's the same thing for you."
"I suppose so," he agreed after a moment, still studying her closely. "As long as you're certain, anyway."
"I am," she said firmly. There was no doubt in her mind about any of this, not about giving him her armband or the bonding itself. She had wanted this since the moment she had accepted that she loved him. But she would give him one more chance to back out, if he wanted, before it was too late. "Are you sure that you really want to go through with this, though? Because we can do it tonight. There's a full moon, and we have everything else we need. But if you've changed your mind, I would understand."
"No." He shook his head, and she could see the conviction in his eyes. "I want this. If we can do it tonight, let's do it. It has to be outside, right?"
"Right. There's a spot in the castle gardens I thought would be perfect, so we wouldn't have to go far. How about you go get Wynne, and I'll get everything set up? It's already dark, so we should be ready to go." Alistair nodded in response to her words, heading for the door to their room, and she crossed the room to her pack, where she'd stored all the items they would need.
Seeing that Alistair was heading down the hall to Wynne's room, she went the opposite direction towards the door that led out to the gardens. No one would be out in the gardens tonight, as they were all either celebrating within the castle itself or out in the streets of Denerim following the parade. The gardens, contained as they were within the castle's walls, would be isolated and the perfect place to perform the ceremony, as all they really needed was the earth beneath them, the air around them, and the water in the nearby well.
She was both excited and nervous, she realized as she drew the five-pointed shape into the dirt in the clearing she'd found in the center of the garden near the well, making it just large enough for her and Alistair to stand in. She was eager to become truly bonded to Alistair, and yet not knowing for certain whether it would work or how it would feel afterwards made her nervous as well. But in spite of that feeling that made her hands just a bit shaky and caused sweat to trickle down her back even in the coolness of the night, she was certain, deep in her heart, that this was what she wanted.
She set up the candles at each of the five points, to represent the five elements of the Goddess's magic, and lit each one to provide the fire. The well was near enough to provide water. Spirit would be there in each person present, and there was no need to have any other representation of it. She set the red ribbon out in the middle of the ring, and dug out the piece of parchment she'd written for Wynne with the words she'd need to know.
Alistair appeared just as she'd finished, followed by Wynne, both of them wearing what they'd worn to the coronation and celebration earlier, just as she was. Alistair, she knew, wasn't terribly fond of the ceremonial armor, but she privately thought he looked very handsome in it. Wynne, however, seemed to quite like the long-sleeved red dress she'd been given that was accented in gold, and it did look quite well on her. Wynne frowned slightly as she stopped just outside of the ring of candles and Alistair stepped inside.
"You are both quite certain of this?" Wynne asked, looking closely at both of them.
"We are," Ayla said firmly, nodding even as Alistair did. "We made sure of that before we came here."
Wynne sighed. "Very well, then. How do I perform this . . . binding?"
Ayla handed her the parchment, explaining, "These are the words to start, and these are the words you say when we've both added our blood to the ribbon. Then you tie it around our hands, and channel the magic as you would any other spell, I suppose, into us and into the ribbon as we say our words. And once we are finished the words, there should be a flash of light, as I recall, and it is done."
Wynne took the parchment, gesturing for Ayla to go stand within the ring along with Alistair. She stepped within, facing him, the ribbon between them, and pulled out the dagger she wore beneath her skirt. "We have to cut each other," she informed him, "just enough to get the seven drops of blood on the ribbon, okay? Then once Wynne has bound our hands together, we'll say the words. I'll start, and you repeat after me. Are you ready?"
She could see the warmth glowing from his eyes as he replied, "Absolutely, love."
She smiled, and scooped up the ribbon, holding both it and her dagger as she nodded at Wynne.
Wynne glanced down at the parchment, then back up at Ayla. "Well, if you're sure this will work," was all she said before she began.
"I invoke thee, Goddess, Queen of all the Worlds, to bear witness and bestow your magic upon these two who wish to be bonded together as one, as life-mates, from now until the end of their days in this world." First Wynne's hands, then her body, began to glow with the swirling colors that passed to her from the ground beneath her, the air above her, from the well nearby, from the flames of the candles, and the spirit within her, and the mage stepped forward until she was just outside the small ring, placing her hands on each of their shoulders when Ayla nodded. An odd tingling sensation began running through Ayla's body when Wynne's hand touched her shoulder.
Alistair had pulled his gauntlets off, and now extended his left hand to Ayla. She made a small cut on the pad of his ring finger with the dagger, wincing apologetically at him as she squeezed out the seven drops of blood carefully onto the ribbon before passing both items to him and holding out her own hand.
He frowned a little as he repeated what she'd just done, mouthing 'I'm sorry' at her when he cut her finger, but she shook her head at him to let him know it was fine. He squeezed the drops onto the ribbon, then handed it to Wynne, who'd briefly removed her hands from their shoulders to hold the ribbon as she recited the five spell-words, "Tine, cre, uisce, aer, spiorad."
The ribbon flared brightly with yellow light, and the glow remained as Wynne carefully bound their left hands together at the wrist, and the two of them linked their fingers together. Ayla couldn't help but squeeze Alistair's hand tightly, and he squeezed hers in turn, giving her a reassuring smile. She could both feel the warmth of the magic creeping up her arm from the ribbon and see the glow of it as it went, as the same happened with Alistair's arm, even as the tingling returned when Wynne's hands went back to their shoulders. She nodded at Alistair, and then began, speaking a few words at a time and allowing him to repeat after her. "As I have now found my mate, so I wish to become one with you, bound together. My breath is your breath. My light is your light. My joy is your joy. My warmth is your warmth. My sorrow is your sorrow. My pain is your pain. My darkness is your darkness. My strength is your strength. My weakness is your weakness. My heart is your heart. My body is your body. My blood is your blood. My soul is your soul. My life is your life. These things I swear to give only to you, and to no other, for as long as I shall live. This token that is dear to my heart," with this Ayla took her armband off with her right hand and passed it to Alistair, who in turn took off the locket and passed it back to her, "I give to you to remain yours, as I am, to show to all that I am yours and you are mine, bound together as one, as mates, for life."
The glow had spread from the ribbon all through their bodies as they had recited the words, and by the time they were done, they were both glowing brightly, so much that Ayla could barely stand to look at it. As soon as the last word was spoken, the light flared bright and white-hot, causing an intense warmth and some sort of indescribable feeling to burst through Ayla's body, making her cry out and sway abruptly with the force of it, as she heard and felt Alistair do the same.
In the next moment, the light and the odd sensations and feelings were gone. She could, however, sense something as though it were at the edge of her mind or the edge of her vision, something that gave off a feeling like light and warmth and comfort. She looked up, meeting Alistair's eyes, their left wrists bound together and their hands still tightly held together. He smiled brightly at her, which was accompanied by a sudden wave of warmth from that new sensation, before he asked a trifle uncertainly, "It worked, right?"
"Can't you feel something different? I can," she told him as Wynne began to untie the ribbon around their hands. "Like a sensation, as though something or someone was just outside of your field of vision?"
"Now that you mention it," he said softly, tilting his head, his eyes going blank for a moment, "yes. Sort of like when I sense where the darkspawn are, but instead of something wrong, something dark, this is . . . warmth and light. What does that mean? You said we could sense emotions from each other, right?"
"We can, but it will take some time to figure out what sensations apply to what feelings." She let go of his hand as the ribbon fell away, flexing her fingers, and he did the same. "And it's only something you're feeling strongly. So if you're a little annoyed or irritated, or some other mild feeling, I wouldn't know. But if you're really happy or really angry, or something like that, I would be able to tell. But it will all take some time and practice to figure out."
"Then I look forward to figuring it out." He grinned, before turning to Wynne. "Thank you, Wynne. We appreciate it."
"Yes, thank you," Ayla added, smiling at the older woman. "You have no idea how much this means to me – to us."
Wynne had been looking a bit uncertain, but now she smiled warmly. "I think I do. Alistair was quite passionate when he explained it to me again. And though it was certainly the most unusual spell I have ever performed, it was quite . . . interesting, as well. The words were rather beautiful, also. At any rate, you are most welcome. I think I shall head back to my room now; that was rather an exhausting spell."
With that, Wynne turned and headed back towards the castle, while Ayla and Alistair blew out the candles and gathered up the supplies, returning them to her pack along with his gauntlets, so that he could take his hand in hers as they headed back to their room.
"You know," he said softly as they walked, "I still want an actual wedding, too. Something with all of our friends there. I just want to be joined to you in every way I possibly can, in the ways of both your world and mine."
She nodded, smiling at him. "I want that too. I think maybe a week or so after Aedan's wedding, like we were talking about." She toyed with the locket around her neck. This was the other way that she knew the bonding had worked; she could see, now, the faint glow coming off the locket, and the fact that it smelled strongly like Alistair in spite of it resting against her skin now. The same was true of her armband, now around Alistair's upper arm; it glowed just lightly enough to see if you were looking for it, but her own scent was like a beacon on it among the scent of his body, to warn any other shifters that he was off-limits.
She pointed it out to Alistair, and after glancing closely at the armband and the locket, he smiled. "Now that I know to look for it, I can see it. They do glow, though it's just a little bit. That's amazing."
"It's to make it obvious," she explained. "Well, to anyone in Fallor, anyway, it would be obvious that we are bonded and not available to anyone else. I suppose, much like rings do here." She touched her ring gently, and nodded at the one that she had given him a few days ago after receiving hers, a solid band of silver with swirling black lines and a few small topazes set in it.
"So men in either world will know no one can have you but me?" he asked teasingly.
She grinned at him. "That's the idea. And you, good ser, are off-limits to women in either world."
They had reached the door to their room by now; he swung it open and pulled her in, shutting it behind them. "Of course I am," he said huskily, and she got the sudden sensation of heat, as though she stood too close to a fire. "From the beginning, I was only yours."
She could feel the sizzling flare of lust that rose up in her veins at his words, and saw his eyes widen at the same time she felt it. "Let's test out this bond," she whispered as she closed the distance between them, reaching for a strap of his armor. "So you can find out what me wanting you so badly I can hardly think straight feels like."
He groaned at her words, eyes darkening, and she was suddenly no longer sure if the blazing flames of desire she could feel came from him or her as they both began working to strip off his armor. But at the moment, she didn't care; she only wanted to see just how far they could push the limits of their now-shared lust.