Chapter 12 - Painful Truths

Alyx stood out on the moonlit balcony, blankly staring over the silver-tipped waves of Lake Calenhad. The stars were out in full force, shining brightly in stark contrast to the night sky. They seemed to pulse in time with the soft rhythm of evening sounds that just seemed so utterly normal it was almost surreal after the trials of the past several hours. She pulled her dressing gown tightly over the simple nightshift generously lent to her by Lady Isolde, shivering as a cool evening breeze wafted up off the water.

A range of emotions passed over her features as she recalled the events of the day. Fear…desperation…determination…pure, unmitigated joy…but mostly fear. She willed herself to keep it together, if not for herself then for her companions, but most especially for him. She gnawed on her bottom lip, hoping she had made the right decisions, but the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she had yet to truly believe she had. She hugged herself tightly, nails biting skin through the light-weight fabric.

She sensed his presence even before two strong, achingly familiar arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a warm, solid chest. Lips brushed against her temple, feather-light, followed by a trail of similar kisses pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Come to bed, love," he said in a low, husky voice by her ear as he nuzzled his nose into the bend of her neck.

She shivered again, this time in anticipation.

"Alistair—"

"No. I know what you're going to say, but not tonight," he growled as he turned her to face him. "Tonight should be just about you and me. We'll have plenty of time to talk over the next few days."

Blue eyes met hazel, a silent battle waging between them as they stared deeply into each other's eyes. Alyx finally sighed, a small smile briefly hitching up one side of her mouth as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest.

"Make love to me?" she whispered as she snuggled into his warmth.

His chuckle reverberated deep in his chest, pleasantly vibrating against her cheek. She knew he was smiling down at her though she could not see his face.

"With pleasure," he replied softly before pulling away far enough to claim her lips with his own.

The kiss began as a gentle caress, slow and sultry, but soon deepened in intensity until they were both frantic with desire. They moved as one through the open doors leading back inside, shedding clothing in their wake.

Somehow they made it to the bed, though how, she couldn't recall. He pressed her gently into the folds of the soft, feather-down mattress as he balanced himself over her, need stamped in every line of his face as he lowered his head to devour her mouth.

Alyx very nearly purred as she ran her hands over the broad expanse of his shoulders and traced the planes of his sculpted back. She could never get over how beautiful he was. Velvety, golden skin wrapped around steel that rippled like water under her fingertips. A sweet feeling of possession coursed through her as she marveled over the fact that she was the only woman to have ever touched him this way.

Alistair's hands were everywhere, and wherever they led his mouth followed, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. They played a little game of give and take until both of their breathing was ragged, their bodies slipping and sliding against each other from the thin sheen of perspiration that coated them both. The pressure building within her begged for release, but no matter how she pressed him with her tender ministrations, he was insistent on drawing things out.

"Alistair, please," she panted as she arched her body against him imploringly. I need you inside me now."

He moaned, eyes turning nearly black in intensity as his self-control snapped. She cried out in pleasure as he entered her in one, smooth motion and reflexively tightened around him, making him growl deep in his throat in response.

"Maker, woman! Are you trying to kill me?" he breathed before grabbing her hips and repositioning them so he could move even deeper inside her.

There was a moment; hardly more than a second or two, that she realized that there was something different about their lovemaking this time. There was a sense of desperation that had not been there before, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she realized this could be their last night together. Then he was moving inside her and she lost all sense of time and space as they climbed to the apex together. She screamed in pleasure and shuttered against him, stars dancing in front of her eyes as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over her, intensifying as he let out a guttural cry of his own when he climaxed a heartbeat later.

They laid there intertwined for a long time afterwards, their hearts racing in unison as the aftershocks of their lovemaking swept over them. Eventually he propped himself up on one elbow, a lazy, sated grin flashing across his beloved features. He traced the chain around her neck with one callused finger, and then gently thumbed the amulet that was cradled between her breasts. It had been his mother's amulet…and now it was hers. It was such a simple thing, just a modest silver piece with Andraste's holy flame etched on one side, but it held a depth of meaning that only the two of them could know. His gaze flicked back to her face, his expression quickly changing to one of wonder.

"You know, I still can hardly believe it," he murmured.

"Believe what?" she asked, an amused smile spreading across her face.

"That you are mine," he replied softly, "As I am yours."

Tears threatened once again, the intensity of his gaze nearly undoing her altogether.

"I love you," she whispered, tenderly cupping his cheek in one hand.

"And I you…always," he replied as he briefly leaned into her touch.

Slowly, he lowered his head to claim her lips once again. She closed her eyes and reached out to draw him closer, but her arms grasped only empty air. Her eyes shot open, panic climbing into her throat.

She was no longer in the guest room at Redcliffe.

The stench of sulfur, blood and death surrounded her, the screams of men and darkspawn alike filling the air in bone-chilling familiarity. The feral cry of a dragon pierced the air and shook the ground beneath her feet. The archdemon, she thought as every hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. That was when she saw him; face streaked with blood and sweat and a determined gleam in his eyes.

"No!" she breathed, recalling the argument they had just that morning.

"Of the two of us I am the Senior Warden, so if it comes down to it I should be the one to slay the archdemon," he had pronounced in grim determination.

"Absolutely not! You are the King, Alistair! Fereldan needs you, not I. I have nothing else to lose, save you," she argued.

"You're wrong, Alyx, in so many ways. I didn't want to be King, but now that I am…there is no greater gift that I could offer my people than to end the blight, here and now. I will not…nay…I cannot let you sacrifice yourself."

She knew in that instant what he was planning and her blood ran cold. Without thinking she sprinted forward, praying with every fiber of her being that she would make it to the archdemon before he did, but in her haste she stumbled and tripped, falling hard against the stone floor. Her breath left her body in a woosh as she hit the ground with a hollow thud. The sickening crack that followed told her that something had broken, but she was beyond feeling any physical pain. She lay there spread-eagle and coughing up blood for half a heartbeat, staring at the ground as if the answer to the world was written in the cracked stone, and then her mind snapped back into focus.

She looked up just in time to see him disappear underneath the beast's belly, and judging by its cry of pain, his aim was true. The archdemon writhed like a worm on a hook, its bloodshot eyes rolling wildly. Alistair appeared again, blood-soaked and grim. He stumbled towards it, purpose written in every line of his body as he raised his sword to strike, but hesitated as he glanced up at her over its monstrous head. It was only a split second, but she saw everything in his eyes at that moment: apology, sorrow, regret, fear, resolve, but above all else, love; strong and endless. She tried to scream, to tell him to stop, but nothing would come out. She watched as he lowered the blade into the archdemon's skull with a sickening bellow, blade flashing as it slid home. A bright, fathomless light shot out from the wound, growing in strength until it was blinding. All of a sudden the beam exploded in a burst of light and sound. She screamed his name once in agony, and then the world faded to utter darkness.

Alyx startled awake, a broken sob escaping her lips before she could stop herself.

No, no! Not again, please not again, she chanted in her head as tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her face.

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last that she had relived those last days of the blight…that bittersweet night at Redcliffe before the march to Denerim, always followed by the battle atop Fort Drakon. Those images had haunted her dreams night after night for months on end until she thought she would lose her mind. Yet it had been so long since the last nightmare that she thought she was finally free of their torment.

Why now? She asked herself as she struggled to collect her thoughts.

That's when it hit her. I saw him, her mind whispered just as his name escaped her lips. She knew he hadn't been real, but even an ethereal version of Alistair had brought forth feelings and memories that she had tried so hard to bury deep inside of herself.

I thought I was over this…I was getting better, she thought as she closed her eyes against the pain.

And she had improved.

Directly after the blight, simply breathing in and out had been a chore, and then as her health improved, taking one step in front of the other. When she was well enough to travel she had gone back to Highever with Fergus, but even then she was detached and unwell. She remembered how exhausted she had felt when they finally arrived at her childhood home. She had expected to feel something as she walked through the familiar halls, still a mess from Howe's machinations, but it wasn't until much later that she felt anything but…empty. She hardly ate or slept, never even left her room or spoke unless spoken to until Fergus, Wynne and Leliana ganged up on her and forced her to take care of herself. With good reason as it turned out. She had been lucky to have so many people who cared for her enough to keep her from completely falling over the precipice.

It wasn't until she had been home for more than a year that she finally gained some semblance of peace. She was not entirely whole, nor did she think she would ever be again, but they had fallen into a daily rhythm that kept her mind and heart quiet. The blight was over, Highever had been restored to its former glory, and her brother was beginning to come to terms with his new position as Teryn. Just thinking of those times made her yearn for her small yet devoted family, but Highever was no longer home. Amaranthine was, and the sooner she got used to it the better.

She shot up in the bed and the world immediately tilted on its axis. Alyx groaned as her head pounded in time with the lurching of her stomach. She reached up to put her head in her hands and immediately winced at the sharp pain that stabbed through her left hand and shot straight up her forearm. When she looked down at her hand she saw that it was deeply gashed and caked with dry blood. She sat there and stared at it unblinking for a confused moment, then glanced down at the bed sheets and noticed that they, too, were covered in blood.

Curious, she thought before spotting the reason for her injury.

The mirror that had been hanging above the washstand across from the bed was now laying on the floor in a hundred pieces. She blushed as she recalled her actions of the night before. She had punched the first thing she saw, and unfortunately it had been the poor, defenseless mirror...or not so defenseless, she thought wryly as she looked at the bloody mess she'd made.

She remembered coming to her rooms, desperately trying to contain her emotions until she was alone. As soon as the door had closed behind her she had let out all of the anger and pain that had been building up within her ever since she had accepted the position of Warden-Commander. Seeing him had simply been the final straw. She supposed it could have been far worse than a broken mirror, considering how intoxicated she had been, but it still didn't excuse her actions. With a sigh she realized that the innkeeper would be angry when he found out, and rightly so. She would have to compensate him, and generously if she had any hope of keeping this quiet.

She roughly brushed the tears from her face as disappointment set in. Get a hold of yourself! She silently scolded. This is not how a leader acts. How can your men trust you if you can't even take care of yourself?

Fear crept over her as she realized that her companions had witnessed her breakdown last night. She knew that Oghren would understand, but Anders and Nate? Would they see it as a weakness? What would stop Anders from running off, or Nathaniel from using it against her? After all, she had done nothing to gain their loyalty.

Slowly, Alyx stood and shuffled to the washstand, her head throbbing with every step. Gritting her teeth she poured water into a chipped bowl and began the painful process of cleaning her wounded hand. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a light knock on the door.

"Enter," she commanded, hiding her arm behind her back as she turned just in time to see Anders meekly poke his head through the open doorway.

"Ah, so you are awake," he said as he strolled into the room, but stopped short when he saw the shattered mirror and bloodied sheets. Anders sighed. "Show me."

Blushing, Alyx held out her hand for his inspection. He cursed colorfully as he took her hand in both of his and moved it from side to side to examine the full extent of the damage.

"You're lucky, Commander," he murmured as he gently ran his fingers over her wrist. "Another inch lower and you might have bled out before anyone would've thought to bother you."

She blushed even harder at his words, averting her eyes momentarily as he grabbed the cloth she had been using to continue cleaning the dried blood from her wounds. When she glanced back at him she noticed that his mouth was set in a thin, grim line as he concentrated on his work. A lick of fear crept into her chest as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Anders?"

"Hmm?"

"This isn't what it seems. I would never…"

"I know," he said with a small smile. "You don't have to explain, my dear. Just promise me something? The next time you feel like picking a fight with an inanimate object…resist."

She chuckled, and then winced as her head reeled from the motion. I am never drinking again, she told herself.

When he finished cleaning her wounds his large hands engulfed her own, fingers briefly glowing blue as he worked the healing spell. A subtle warmth spread through her hand and up her arm, and then dissipated as he released her. She looked down at her hand, flexing her fingers as she appreciated his handy work. There was no evidence of injury to be seen or felt.

"Thank you, Anders. You are Maker sent."

"I doubt the templars would agree with you there," Anders replied cheekily before his expression turned serious once again. "Are you sure you're alright? You look a little…green."

"Oh, I'll be fine. Just suffering from the after affects of ill-advised overindulgence," she grumbled and then narrowed her eyes at him speculatively. "Why aren't you? You drank more than I did."

"You forget my dear Lady, that I have magic at my disposal. Hold still," he replied as he wrapped his long fingers around the back of her neck. She sighed with pleasure, head reflexively falling onto his arm as warmth washed over her, melting away the residual pain. She glanced up at him when he dropped his hand and was confused by the strange, almost strained expression on his face. Hmm, interesting.

"My thanks," she murmured with a grateful smile.

"I…uh…you're welcome," he said gravely once he cleared his throat.

"So…now that's out of the way…why did you come knocking on my door in the first place?" she asked.

"Oh. Right, that. The rest of us were planning on grabbing a bite to eat. Thought you might be hungry, so I decided to come let you know before Oghren ate everything in sight."

"I suppose I could use some food in my stomach. Be down in a minute?"

Anders nodded and turned on his heel to leave.

"Anders?" she called as he reached the door. He turned and raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"Can you not…say anything about…you know…" she said, pointing at her newly-healed hand.

"Of course," he replied, his eyes softening slightly as he threw a small smile in her direction before leaving the room.

Alyx noticed her armor had yet to be returned, so she was forced to make do with the borrowed dress from last night. It was a bit worse for wear since she had never changed out of it before falling into her bed, but there were worse things than appearing a bit rumpled in public. She splashed her face with clean water and rearranged her hair in her normal coiled braids before leaving the room.

Oghren, Anders and Nathaniel were already gathered at a table full of food in the middle of the taproom. Apparently Anders hadn't been joking. At the rate her companions were eating, the fare would have all been gone had he not come to get her.

"It's 'bout time you joined the livin'," Oghren grumbled as she sat next to him.

"Ha, ha," she muttered as she began piling food on a spare trencher. "You have no room to talk my dwarven friend."

"So what's the game plan, Falc?" Oghren continued, ignoring her last comment as he rolled half-masticated food around in his mouth like a grazing cow.

"We'll stay in Amaranthine for a couple more days. Scout for more information, take care of some loose ends…maybe check into the smuggling problem for Constable Aidain. Then I thought it best to head towards the Wending Wood. If the darkspawn are attacking the caravans, we need to stop them before the city runs out of supplies. If we're lucky we might even be able to salvage something in the process, even save a few lives if we're really lucky."

They all nodded in agreement before falling into silence as they ate. Soon Alyx grew agitated by the anxious glances Anders and Nathaniel kept throwing in her direction. They were being careful with her, like she was a fragile piece of Orlesian glass. At first she thought Anders might have gone back on his word and said something to the others about her little incident, but she knew that Oghren would never let something like that slip by without…Oghren. She ground her teeth in frustration as she realized what the source of their concern had to be.

"The rest of the day is yours, gentleman," she said finally as she stood and stretched at the end of the meal, straining to keep her words light. "Oghren, a word if you would…in private."

Alyx turned on her heel and walked out of the front door of the inn, never turning to see if he was behind her though she knew he would follow. She almost smiled when she heard the other two cat-calling and teasing him as he grumbled obscenities behind her. She stopped near the spot that she and Nathaniel had talked yesterday afternoon and swung back around to shoot an accusatory look at the grim-faced dwarf.

"You told them?" she hissed.

"What?" he grunted. "I had to tell'em somethin' after you went tearin' out of here last night. It's not like it's a big secret or nothin'. You were engaged to the man."

"And for all anyone knew it was a political match," she growled. "Exactly what did you tell them?"

"Just the bit 'bout the two of ye bein' mad for each other…and the archdemon thing."

"And?"

"And that's it, I swear…for the most part…"

"Oghren!"

"What?"

"There are some things that are to be kept secret for a reason. If you said anything about—"

"No! I would never…Ancestor's tits woman! I was drunk, not suicidal!" he growled, an expression of hurt crossing his face.

Alyx sighed, pinching her nose between two fingers as she tried to calm herself. She suddenly felt like she was kicking a puppy…granted a drunken, fowl smelling puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Oghren. I do trust you, it's just…how am I to convince the others to follow my lead if they believe I'm going to fall to pieces at the mere mention of his name?"

"I get it, Falc, better than those two nug-humpers ever could."

"I know that, Oghren," she replied softly.

"Besides, I think that's the least of yer worries, at least when it comes to those two."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"No? Ah, well, it's no skin off my arse if ye can't see what's right in front of ye'," he said with a shrug.

"Oghren?"

"Huh?"

"You don't think I'm unstable, do you?" she asked nervously, wringing her hands.

"Look," he sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "I know what losin' him did to ye'. I was there. Sod it, I probably know better than anyone how hard it is to go through that hell. Ye've done good, kid, and I respect ye for pickin' yerself up like ye did."

"Thanks, Oghren. You've been a good friend," she replied warmly.

"Don't let anyone tell ye otherwise, Falc. Oghren's got yer back."

She laughed at that and surprised him by giving him a quick hug.

"You know I love you, right?" she said.

"He he, jest don't tell Felsi," Oghren mumbled. "Uh…not to ruin the warm and fuzzy-like mood, but…you do know they will eventually find out about…you know…right?"

"Yes, I am quite aware of that, but if and when that happens, I will be the one to tell them. Understood?"

"Aye, Commander."

"Good. And if for whatever reason you decide to regale them with anymore stories of my past…don't," she commanded.

"Hey! At least I didn't tell 'em ye were gonna' be Queen," he said defensively.

"Marvelous," Alyx said with a sigh.

*Muse Tunes: "My Love" by Sia; "Betrayal and Desolation" by James Horner (Braveheart OST); and "Together We Will Live Forever" by Clint Mansell (The Fountain OST).