Thank you to WellspringCD, my beta reader, and to every one who takes the time to read. A particular thank you to those who review; the positive reaction to Chapter 33 was immensely gratifying! It's nice to know that so many of you are enjoying the story. I hope it continues to entertain.
Alistair stiffened, listening. He had been restless and unable to settle since Fearghal and Zevran had left them to go to the Pearl. A part of him had wanted to go with them. For all his indignation at Fearghal's suggestion, the idea had taken hold in his mind. A soft thud came from downstairs, followed by a murmur of voices, then all was quiet. It might be robbers. Alistair had felt extremely uneasy about leaving the door unlocked. He would rather have been woken by Fearghal and Zevran knocking when they returned, but Leliana had been adamant that she wanted to sleep undisturbed in a good bed for what might be the last time in weeks or even months.
Alistair slipped out of bed and pulled his breeches on. He padded across the room, then along the landing and peered cautiously down the stairs.
"You're back then. Hey, where's your armour? What... oh!"
Alistair turned and fled back along the landing, into Teagan's bed chamber. He shut the door behind him and stood in the dark, shaken. He was kissing him! Alistair tried to make some sense of what he'd just seen. Fearghal and Zevran had seemed completely oblivious to him. It wasn't just a kiss but a kiss. Fearghal had had Zevran clasped tightly to him, the assassin's hands had been running through Fearghal's hair.
Alistair felt a stab of jealousy, swiftly followed by irritation. Maker's breath, they've just spent the last few hours at a brothel and now they come back here to... to... He stripped off his breeches and got back into bed. He tensed, hearing soft footfalls on the stairs followed by a murmur of voices, too indistinct to make out the words; the muted click of a door closing. Alistair waited for Fearghal to enter Teagan's room, then realised that he must have gone into Zevran's room. Alistair felt unexpectedly bereft at the thought. He thumped his pillow and tried to get comfortable.
Alistair frowned in the dark. Where's Fearghal's armour? He's been wearing the new plate that Teagan gave him... A loud groan interrupted his thoughts. Alistair felt a shiver run through him at the sound. Fearghal. Alistair pushed away the thoughts that threatened to crowd in. Another groan. In spite of his resolve to not even think about what might be happening in the next room, Alistair felt the familiar ache in his loins.
More moans, the pitch higher. Zevran. The creak of a bed, then Alistair could hear the elf moaning softly again. It went quiet, for a moment, for which Alistair was grateful, then Zevran moaned even more loudly and Alistair could hear the Antivan babbling and gasping. Maker's breath! What is Fearghal doing to him? The thought was in his head before he could stop it, and his hand moved down under his small clothes.
Alistair heard Fearghal groaning again, softly at first, then more loudly. Alistair started to stroke himself. Zevran started to babble and moan again, punctuated by Fearghal's groans. Alistair's hand tightened on himself as he heard the rhythmic creaking of Zevran's bed. Oh, Maker! They're... He remembered crude conversations amongst the other initiates, things that Alistair hadn't believed were possible at first. His fist moved faster as an image of pounding into Fearghal flashed through his mind, then he was coming hard, his breath ragged, as he felt warm liquid spray over his belly. Moments later he heard Zevran cry out, then Fearghal groaning loudly.
Alistair lay, trembling. He really is going to drive me mad.
~o~O~o~
Alistair slipped out of bed and pulled the curtain back slightly. Judging by the light, it was still early. He stretched and pondered going back to bed for an hour. The house was still quiet, no-one else seemed to be up. He yawned and stretched. I'm up now, might as well go and heat some water and get washed. He pulled on his shirt and breeches and made his way quietly downstairs. As he reached the lobby, he glanced into the living room and was surprised to see Fearghal.
Fearghal was slumped in the chair, fast asleep, a small frown creasing his face. His shirt hung loosely, as if he'd just thrown it on and come down. A small pile of papers was on the floor at his feet. Unable to resist, Alistair crept in and picked up the papers. His eyes widened as he registered the greeting on the letter. Frowning, he sat in a chair and started to read.
~o~O~o~
1 Drakonis 9:30
Greetings, My Lord Teyrn
I pray you will not think it inappropriate for me to contact you. In ordinary circumstances I would address my concerns to my liege lord, the Teyrn of Highever; however, for reasons that I will explain, I am loathe to do so.
Enclosed is a message that was intercepted by one of my men. The messenger was behaving in a suspicious and surreptitious manner in Amaranthine and was detained. The Captain of the Guard confiscated all the prisoner's belongings and found this message concealed amongst his luggage. He opened it and read it, then brought it to me.
You understand, I would not have opened the message myself, given whom it is addressed to; however, it was brought to me already opened and I confess that the contents greatly disturbed me.
I realise that I should have brought it to the attention of Teyrn Cousland, however there has been much disquieting talk in recent months about the extent of his relations with Orlais, particularly in regard to the new trading agreements he reached with them late last year. I confess, I was much alarmed to discover that the prisoner had entered Ferelden through the port at Highever. Indeed, Orlesian ships are now frequent visitors in our most northern port.
I hope you will forgive my breach of protocol and not think me too forward in drawing this matter to your attention.
Your humble and obedient servant,
Rendon Howe
Arl of Amaranthine
~o~O~o~
27 Cloudreach 9:30
Greetings, My Lord Teyrn
As you suggested, I have established a small band of men posing as merchants in Highever. They have identified an Orlesian trader there, who they believe to be an Orlesian spy, possibly even a bard. The woman's movements are sometimes furtive and her associates are not all connected with her purported trade. They continue to watch her closely. It may be necessary to arrest her and question her.
I will, of course, continue to keep you abreast of the situation as it develops.
Your humble and obedient servant,
Rendon Howe
Arl of Amaranthine
~o~O~o~
3 August 9:30
Greetings, My Lord Teyrn
The Orlesian woman has been most forthcoming after a little persuasive interrogation. I had wondered if she was a bard, however she gave up her secrets so easily, I very much doubt it. She is truly is contemptible creature. She was babbling like a brook at the mere sight of her 'accommodations'. Still, I suppose one can expect nothing more of an Orlesian, and of the lower classes at that.
She was able to confirm that regular correspondence has passed between the parties we suspected, and has been doing so for almost a year. She also maintained that the trade agreements between the Teyrn of Highever and Orlais were established to facilitate said correspondence more easily.
I hesitate to state it so baldly, but I fear the conclusion must be that Cousland is a traitor. I will be arriving in Denerim to discuss the details of the mustering of troops called for by the king. I hope that we will have the opportunity to meet privately and discuss these issues more openly than I dare in a letter.
I remain your humble and obedient servant,
Rendon Howe
Arl of Amaranthine
~o~O~o~
Alistair whistled softly as he reached the end of the last letter, then jumped as Fearghal stirred in his chair. He looked up and met the deep blue eyes staring back at him.
"It's not true, my father would never have betrayed Ferelden to Orlais," said Fearghal quietly.
"Is it possible, though, that Howe genuinely believed he was a traitor?" asked Alistair.
Fearghal sighed and leaned forward, rubbing his face. "I don't know. It's possible, I suppose." He thought about it, then frowned. "But if that was the case, then why not just arrest Father, like he claims he went to Highever to do?"
Fearghal looked up as Leliana came down the stairs, then back at Alistair. "I'm no good at all this skulduggery and politicking!" Fearghal burst out.
Zevran came down and both he and Leliana came into the living room.
"Ah, this is where you got to," said Zevran, smiling. "Those are the letters we found last night?"
Fearghal nodded gloomily.
"May we see?" asked Zevran. Fearghal tugged the letters out of Alistair's hand and passed them to Zevran, who sat down on the settle with Leliana to read them.
"Hang on a minute," said Alistair frowning. "Where did you get those?" He was surprised to see Fearghal actually blush.
"Well, we..um... " muttered Fearghal, refusing to look at him.
"You went to Loghain's estate, didn't you? I can't believe you! Are you mad? What if you'd been caught?" Alistair was furious.
"Then I'd be in Fort Drakon and you'd be heading out to Haven!" retorted Fearghal.
"You lied to me! You sat there and agreed with me that it was an unnecessary risk. You told me what you thought I wanted to hear and went ahead and did it anyway."
"Well, I did agree with you... sort of," mumbled Fearghal.
Alistair snorted.
"You were right about it being too risky for both of us to go, but the chance that the vial might be in Loghain's estate was too good to pass up. Maker knows how long it will take us to get to the place on Genitivi's map and then to Redcliffe; probably the best part of a month. I get why Eamon is important, but we still have to visit Orzammar and find the Dalish. I just thought that if we could get the vial it would save us some time."
Alistair's eyes narrowed. "So why not just say that yesterday?" he demanded. "Better still, why not send Leliana and Zevran back to the estate?"
"Because I didn't want an endless discussion about it. Because you refuse to lead, yet you bitch and quibble about every damned decision I make! I just wanted to get it done," yelled Fearghal, his fists bunching.
"I see. So you want the marsh witch to speak her mind, but I'm just supposed to shut up and let you go ahead with whatever half-baked, cock-eyed plan comes into your head?"
"Well, you fucking lead then!" Fearghal sprang out of his chair and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"I think that some breakfast is in order," said Leliana, setting the letters down and nudging Zevran. He took the hint and followed her from the room. Alistair barely glanced at them as they passed him. He sat in the chair, fuming to himself. He treats me like some sort of child. A child that can't be trusted to have a sensible opinion or anything useful to say. He looked up as Zevran, entered carrying two steaming mugs of tea.
Zevran offered a mug to Alistair. "Leliana thought this might help."
Alistair glared at the assassin but accepted the tea. Zevran just grinned and seated himself in an armchair. He sipped his tea, slurping it noisily, then looked across at Alistair.
"Tell me, Alistair, are you truly angry because Fearghal went behind your back, or because he took me with him?"
"No!" protested Alistair. No! Yes! Partly... "You think I shouldn't be angry because he went sneaking off on a foolhardy, dangerous mission without telling me? And really, out of all of us, was Fearghal really the best person to go with you?"
Zevran shrugged. "On the face of it, perhaps not, but as it turned out, if I had taken anyone else, we would probably be in Fort Drakon by now."
Alistair put his mug down. "I'm going to get washed and shaved before breakfast." He fetched a jug of hot water then went upstairs. He was surprised to see Fearghal in the room they had shared, leaning against the window frame, starting out over the city. He half-turned and nodded at Alistair, his face flat. Alistair returned the gesture, then stripped of his shirt and began to shave.
"I meant it, you know. If you think all of my decisions are so awful, I'm happy for you to lead," said Fearghal, still staring out of the window.
Alistair snorted. "Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I'm stranded somewhere without any pants." He scraped the razor across his face. "It's just...look, I know I've had a sheltered life. I probably am naïve, but I'm not stupid."
Alistair set the razor down and rinsed the last traces of soap from his face. "We're the last two Grey Wardens left in the whole of Ferelden. We need to be able to trust each other. I don't know why we're necessary to end the Blight, I only know that Duncan and the other wardens were adamant that the Archdemon could only be defeated by a Grey Warden. We both need to stay one step ahead of Loghain until this is done. We can't afford to take unnecessary risks."
Fearghal stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone behind your back like that."
"Fair enough." Alistair nodded and started to wash.
Fearghal watched Alistair for a moment longer, then shook himself and went to get some more hot water.