Chapter 32: Hero of One
Alistair / Ser Sellose
I burned. I lay on a beach unable to move with a harsh sun beating down on me. The sand was hot against my skin, blistering my back. My eyes stung and I kept them closed. A harsh ringing in my ears accompanied the heat. It hurt. It all hurt.
"You cannot stay here" spoke a familiar voice.
Squinting my eyes as I opened them, I felt hot tears scalding my cheeks with the pain. It is a sad thing when even tears offer no relief. My vision was bleary as I looked up at the figure who had spoken, light glinting off his armor. As my eyes adjusted, his figure became clearer and I could just barely make out Rian's face amid the glare. His brow was furrowed, he looked troubled.
"You cannot stay here, my king," he insisted again, "you are on the edge of the border of the Fade. Much longer and the mist will claim you. There will be no going back once it does."
As if to illustrate his point, I could make out a swirling mist beyond him. It looked ominous but soothing and my skin felt seared so that part of me longed for the moist vapor that mist promised. I leaned my head back again and closed my eyes, hoping the stinging would abate. More so than the rest, the space over my ribs hurt where I had been branded. Recognizing it seemed to clear some of the muddled, scorched thoughts in my head.
"King Alistair there is not much time!" He encouraged, "Get up! Our country needs their king!"
I moaned, "I cannot help one woman, how can I help a country?"
"You inspire us, Alistair." He scolded and I ventured to open my eyes again, he was no longer standing but on his hands and knees next to me, trying to get me to stand up without touching me, "You are a good man. You do not want to be king because you worry that you have nothing to offer. You do not desire power but you want what is best for your people. Some men see people as beneath them, but you treat everyone with respect, insisting that all can be worthy of it. You are not limited by your birth."
"I hate feeling this helpless," I murmured, feeling something stirring inside at his words.
His voice sounded exasperated at the next words, "Then do not allow yourself to be helpless. You were not just given the strength of arms; you were given a wise mind. Use it!"
"I do not have the strength for this!" I growled, shifting slightly against the sand, every limb feeling like lead.
"You swore to Arl Auber that you would bring Svenya to Denerim safely," he challenged me, "would you allow yourself to be forsworn?"
"What if I cannot save her?" I demanded, feeling something in my arms loosen and they no longer weighed as heavily against the ground, "I have already had one woman haunt me who I could not save, who instead saved me and everyone."
Rian considered what I said before tearing into me, "If you stay here you will not be able to save anyone. You are the king of Ferelden and you are honor bound to try! You have faced an archdemon and hordes of darkspawn. You are no coward."
"I did not face the archdemon – Tabris did! I would have traded this crown I did not even desire for her life. She took my place to strike that final blow for the sake of Ferelden and for the sake of the love she bore for me. It was a love I threw away out of a sense of duty and it was a mistake," I ground out the words, frustrated, exhausted, "Now another woman has sacrificed her freedom on my behalf and she knows me not at all. I am not a man if I could not spare her this outrage, let alone be a king. If I cannot save her, what is the rest of Ferelden to me? I may as well stay here and let the Fade have me."
"Sometimes it is not about being the hero of all, sometimes it is about being the hero of one! There is more to all this than one woman, but that is where you must start. It is all in ripples, Alistair, like in the face of a great pond when a stone is cast in to disturb the surface. They move outward. Whatever starts in the Cauldron will end in Denerim. You are in the place you need to be in order to address those resulting events and it starts now!" He was shouting at me by this point, his voice daring me to get up and I found myself struggling to move if only to be in a better position to argue. I rolled over onto my stomach, the grit of the sand grinding into my raw wound on my chest, and it made me even more determined to get up onto my hands and knees to face him.
In response he got to his feet and I followed suit. Squaring off we stared at each other, as if we were two opponents taking each taking the other's measure. His eyes were no longer the same. Rian looked older somehow, as if death had matured him. He saw both me and beyond me.
"Why me?" I demanded.
Rian sighed, like a man carrying the weight of eternity and his eyes took on a vague look of pity, "Because, Alistair, you have the potential; not all men do. You have not reached the apex yet, but you are on the journey to it. This was necessary."
The wound on my chest seemed to twinge with that and I blurted, "I am sorry. It should not have been you to die. It should not have been your responsibility to tell me this."
"What I chose belongs to me, and not even your regret can steal it from me or lessen it. You are not alone in feeling this. A sacrifice is a gift to those we love; it is not intended to be a burden but a source of strength. It is my privilege to guide you now." He smiled slightly, "Now go, she needs you. That comes first. The rest will follow."
The world became shiny around the edges and I thought I heard a voice singing. The Chantry hymns were broken, off key, vaguely familiar and yet strange. Letha's voice found me there and I turned in order to be better able to hear it, to make out the words:
"It is only in love that we bear the burden of living,
It is only in love that we learn the joy of giving,
It is only in love that we follow the Maker's feet,
It is only in love that we learn to be complete…"
"It is only in love that we find honor,
It is only living in honor that enables us to love.
Maker soften the hearts of men,
So we might live in honor and learn to love again."
The phrases were mismatched or mistaken, I could not decipher which, but the words drew me away from Rian and away from the mist. I felt the heat, but I shivered too, my skin felt clammy and the blinding sunlight reverted into shadow as I moved forward.
My eyes fluttered open, looking up into Letha's face, I shuddered slightly where I lay on the floor, but beneath me there was a blanket that eased the cold of the stones. She gently rested a cold rag upon my forehead and it did not smell as greatly of the brackish water we had been using.
"Is he coming around?" This masculine voice was not familiar to me, but it sounded concerned.
I cocked my head slightly so I could get a better look at the speaker. The man wore simple, elegant clothes of hunter green and deep brown. The face was neither hard nor soft, the nose was hawkish, but the eyes softened this feature. It was the eyes that caught my attention more than anything else. They were deep brown eyes and were very familiar. They looked like Svenya's eyes…
"I am sorry," the man stated, "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. I am Murchad and I believe you are a friend of my sister, Mae."
I swallowed down a very dry throat, "Is she alright? They have not hurt her, have they…?"
"Physically she is fine, but she is very worried for you. I am afraid your wounds look angry and I suspect the brackish water they left for you did not help." He groaned, "You probably need a healer but I cannot bring you one, even if there were one in the vicinity. Most of the women that could be characterized as such have either fled these lands or were taken by the Templars."
I struggled to sit up, but every muscle ached and my right shoulder and left shin especially hurt, though nothing compared to the branding burns. In the end, Letha maneuvered herself behind me and hoisted me up with trembling arms. At this angle I could better address Murchad, "Are there Templars still here?"
"Yes, but they leave on the morrow, with both my sister and me in tow." He explained, kneeling on the floor so he would not tower above me.
"Why take your sister with them?" I asked, confused.
"It is Ser Manning's wishes that they should be married near the Templar compound at Heidrunscap. It is close to Swidden, so Mae will be sent there as a guest of Boese and to make final preparations for the ceremony." He said all this with a glum expression.
I hissed amid the throbbing in my skull, "How can they perform a ceremony with no Chantry? There is no Revered Mother or Sister to speak the rites."
He sighed, "It probably does not matter to Ser Manning, Arl Boese or my father. The Templars have holy authority here. They will probably have another Templar perform the rites and assume that is enough. I was forced to announce the banns myself near the ruins of the Chanter's board. May the Maker's Bride forgive me!"
"Blasphemy!" This was croaked by Sister Letha behind me, her shocked voice choking on the word.
"I know," he acquiesced, "but if I had refused it would not have ended well."
I felt myself shudder again with fever, but I forced myself to remain upright and take some of my weight off Letha, "We cannot sit by and do nothing. Do you know what your father has planned for us?"
"Yes," he admitted, "they made plans this afternoon in Father's study. They plan to free you to the custody of the Templars, provided you do not die of illness here. I doubt that was what my sister had intended when she demanded that they free you, but they are not interested in following the intent of their deal as much as the letter of it."
"Might they take us along with you tomorrow, then?" I questioned, feeling the mill of my mind turning in my head which made it throb worse.
"Not if you are in this condition. The trip may be short, no more than two days, but it could potentially kill you with the autumn chill in the air coupled with a fever." He replied.
I groaned, "Your sister studied herb lore under Bruna. She could make me some kind of tea that might alleviate my symptoms."
"In less than a day?" he sounded incredulous.
"It is a chance we have to take," I insisted. "Perhaps you could reason with your father that it might be wise for me to be brought along with you tomorrow. My presence could assure that your sister will not back out of her bargain until the ceremony has been completed. With me ill I am not likely to cause your guards trouble."
He shrugged, "It might work, but I would have to broach it with my father. I will try and communicate with Mae, but what if she cannot concoct anything for you that will help?"
"Then I am at the Maker's mercy, as are we all in this situation." I allowed.
He glanced nervously down the hallway before getting to his feet, "I have stayed too long as is. I had only intended to bring you some blankets and some thicker clothes. There is fresh water in a clean bucket. I do not know if I will be able to return, but I will try my best."
"Thank you, Murchad," my strength seemed to be ebbing and Letha lowered me onto my back again as the young man hastily called for the guard who let him out.
"Will he help us?" Letha asked quietly once he had left.
I shook my head, "He will try. If he is anything like his sister, then it will be enough!"
"He is kind," Letha observed.
My head hurt too much to nod. His eyes had said more than his words. He was frightened for Mae and that enabled him to act. There was a determination that struggled to the surface within those depths and that had the potential to make him a powerful ally. I had to trust Murchad, he was our only option.
I allowed sleep to claim me again, hoping that if I must dream that a friend would be waiting for me. Thoughts of Bruna and Ser Grey niggled at the edge of my troubled mind and I wondered what had become of them. Wherever they were, I prayed that they were safer than we.