I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. Sorry for the slow updating; the holidays took quite a bit of my time.
Thank you all so very much for how well this story is being received! Arsinoe de Blassenville, CCBug, tgail73, Shakespira, celtic-twinkie, Biff McLaughlin
I cannot believe that this story has reached over 200 reviews! Woot!
CCBug & Isabella Monroe had a neat idea that I want to continue with my story. When
their stories reached 100 reviews, the reviewer of that review was mentioned in the story. Now, Isabella (A Girl in King Alistair's Court) made me (yup! Me!) a regular (and a romance for Anders…*swoon*). Since I had already past 100 by that point, I figured I'd do it at 200. So…thank you tgail73 for submitting the 200th review for this story.
The Halla Reborn
Chapter 41
The young elven maid scanned the hallway, the tray in her hands heavy. She tilted her pretty red head, certain she had heard voices at the further end of the hall. Frowning, she turned back to the Arlessa's door, and gently knocked upon the hard wood of the door.
The soft voice of Lady Isolde allowed her entry, and Gail placed a delicate hand upon the handle, turning it slightly. She paused again, certain this time that her sharp elven hearing had, indeed, heard voices. They were getting louder. She realized then that the voices were not from the end of the hall, but rather echoing from the lower level. Concerned, she pushed into her lady's room, placing the tea tray upon the side table at the Arlessa's elbow.
"Are those voices I hear?" Lady Isolde asked as she turned fully to look at Gail. The young elf nodded her head, brushing a stray lock of red hair from her green eyes. Frowning slightly, the Arlessa rose to her feet, indicating that Gail should follow her as she swept from her chambers, seeking out the source of the voices. With a quick glance to the tray, the young elven maid hurried after her mistress.
DA:O
"What did she mean, about how you saw Adela?" Nelaros asked around a piece of the hard bread he was chewing. His eyes intense as he watched the human lift his head to face him.
A black brow rose, lips a hard line beneath his prominent nose. "She was trying to divide us, Nelaros," Loghain explained, frowning at the younger man.
"We are already divided, human," Nelaros scoffed, tossing the uneaten half of the bread upon his plate. "Race and circumstance divide us. And you are evading my question."
With a sigh, Loghain looked at the other man. "Do you truly think that this is the time to discuss this?"
The elf shrugged his broad shoulders. "Why not?" he asked, scowling. "We'll never see the light of day. That blood mage of yours plans for one or both of us to die here."
"Only for one of us," Loghain reminded the elf. Nelaros' features only darkened more at the words.
"Yes, I am to die for you," he spat, scowling down at the plate. "So why not let me die knowing how you see my intended?"
The Teyrn shook his head, his eyes fixed upon the irate features of the elven man beside him. "I knew her mother," he said quietly, his gaze shifting to the locked door of the Fade chamber that so resembled his back at the palace. "She was, perhaps, one of my closest friends, in many ways closer to me than even Maric. She was a remarkable warrior, someone I knew I could always trust. Unfortunately for her, she had learned the hard way that although she was completely trustworthy, those who held her trust were not always so."
"Adela…" the elf prompted, not truly interested in the human's history with Adaia.
"You wish to know how I see Adela?" Loghain snorted. "You need to know how I saw her mother." the man paused, his head bent, as he got lost within his thoughts, his memories.
Nelaros watched the human, and sudden understanding came to him. The anger he felt bled from him as he realized the truth. He didn't say a word of his suspicions, and watched as Loghain sat quietly for several moments. "Never mind," the elf stated, his face blank. "I do not need to know at this moment how you see her. However," the elf pointed a long finger at the other man. "If we do manage to escape from this prison, you and I will need to have a long discussion about Adela."
Pale blue eyes blinked, and Loghain's dark head rose, his gaze scrutinizing the perceptive young man. They sat there, staring at the other for some time. Then, with a nod, without another word, the pair went back to their meal, ears alert for any sound from the demon that pursued them.
DA:O
Adela had never been so glad to see a place as she was Castle Redcliffe. As their small group entered the outskirts of the fishing village, they had been inundated by villagers - those who had been present when they had liberated it from the walking undead, but many that the elf did not recognize. The villagers, however, recognized the woman they had declared their savior, and shouted the Maker's Blessings upon her. She had noticed that the Revered Mother of the Chantry came out to smile upon them and offer blessings as they walked by.
Feeling a little bemused, Adela glanced up at Alistair. She noticed that his eyes had settled upon the figure of the Revered Mother and raised a brow at that. She knew what he was thinking, and found herself smiling broadly up at him, stepping closer to nudge him with her shoulder.
As her eyes scanned the cobblestones that made the walkway of the bridge, she wondered how her friends were. She found herself missing them greatly: Leliana's song during the evenings, The Sten's steady presence, Roland's friendship…her thoughts paused upon the knight, and her smile turned downwards into a frown. She did not relish the conversation she would need to have with her friend.
The guards at the top of the wide steps drew to attention as the group approached. One of the knights stepped forward, making his way down the long stairs, to meet the companions. He lifted a hand to remove his helm, revealing the auburn head of Ser Perth. With a wide smile, he greeted the companions, bidding them to enter the castle. Almost gratefully, the entire group nodded their agreement and followed the knight into the castle.
Much had changed since they had last walked the halls of Castle Redcliffe. The most noticeable, of course, was the distinct lack of corpses and the smell of death and decay. Floors and walls had been scrubbed to a near shine, and the scent of baking bread and cloves permeated the air, helping to wash away the unpleasantness that had so been a part of the grand ancient manor just mere months prior.
The group past servants, guards and knights alike, almost every one of them paused to pay their respects with a nod or shouted greeting. Adela's eyes swept over the forms of each of the servants, but found she did not recognize any of them.
Leliana was the first of their missing companions to find them. With a cry and toss of her arms, Adela found herself enveloped in a tight embrace, the Orlesian hugging the smaller woman as she reached a hand out for Alistair, pulling him into their shared embrace. Laughing, the large man allowed himself to be drawn into the hug, blushing slightly when he felt the bard's soft lips touch lightly upon his cheek in welcome.
Almost abruptly, the pair were released as Leliana assaulted Zevran and Niall with a tight hug. The men returned her embrace, laughing and teasing. Then, the bard's blue eyes settled upon the quiet form of their Witch. Yellow eyes met blue, and, with a laugh, the bard embraced her beloved Witch, kissing her soundly upon the lips. Blushing and choking, Morrigan returned the embrace, only to remember herself and pull away - slightly - from the warmth of Leliana's body.
Laughing, shaking their heads, the group turned as the rest of their companions made their way down the stairs.
The Sten greeted them quietly, acknowledging their presence with his usual stoicism: a slight nod of his massive head. Hafter, not one for observing protocol, pushed past Roland's knees, leaping up upon his mistress, paws on her shoulders as the beast towered over the tiny woman, barking out his displeasure of her having been hurt and of his being sent from her side. Adela hugged the great war hound to her, petting his ears and murmuring promises to never part from his side again. Placated, the animal dropped to all fours, taking his place by her side as the elven woman was swept up into Roland's arms.
Adela returned Roland's embrace, for she was, indeed, pleased to see him. She felt him kiss her lightly on the cheek, murmuring how happy he was to see her about. He had pulled her tighter against his chest, and she could feel and hear the quickening of his heartbeat. As their embrace relaxed, Adela stepped back, still maintaining their clinch. Her blue eyes searched his face, taking in the shorter hair, and the relief that so clearly emanated from his green eyes. She reached up a slender hand and brushed it across one of Roland's cheeks.
"We'll need to speak later," she whispered to the knight, smiling up at him. Gazing down into her eyes, he merely nodded as she stepped away to be greeted by Wynne and Artemis.
DA:O
"Do you hear that?" the elf asked as he placed his ear against the hard wood of the door. Loghain straightened, his sword and shield ready as he nodded.
"She's not even attempting to use stealth," the General of Fereldan's armies remarked dryly, his eyes staring at the door as the elf rose to his feet.
"It's a game to her," Nelaros remarked. "She knows she can't lose, so she lets us pull the lead a bit, before she yanks it back to set the hook."
Smirking, Loghain looked over at the other man. "I take it you fish?"
Nodding, allowing the slightest of smiles to cross his face, the elf replied, "My father and I always took time to go to the coast and fish. It's a little different fishing the larger waters of the Waking Sea than the little puddles I'm certain you flatlanders like to pretend are real waters."
Chuckling at the other man's insolence, Loghain remarked, "I'll have you know, whenever I went fishing, more often than not it was in the waters of the Amaranthine Ocean."
"I thought you seldom went back to Gwaren?"
The smirk still firm upon his features, Loghain replied, "I never said I went fishing often."
Chuckling, the two men turned their attention back to the door. Their mirth was short lived as they heard the unmistakable laughter of the demon that hunted them. Glancing around, they came to the mutual decision that remaining in the small chambers would not benefit them against the magic wielding demon. With a final look at each other, they shifted their positions. Nelaros reached for the door knob, turning it quickly. Loghain leaped into the hall, his eyes shifting from ceiling to floor, seeking out their hunter.
Nelaros stepped behind Loghain, his eyes searching the gloom of the hall directly behind the human. The demons' chuckle could be heard again, however, neither could discern the direction due to a strange echoing in the corridor.
DA:O
Wynne embraced him in a motherly fashion, and Alistair found that he quite liked it. Since joining the wardens, he had gained a growing sense of what family was. Now, with Wynne he had a mother figure and soon, with Adela, a wife. With plenty of friends around him, he felt that his life could, finally, be full.
At the thought of the lovely elf, he raised his eyes, skimming over their happy, reunited group. He noticed that Leliana had maintained a hold upon Morrigan, one arm around the witch's slender shoulders, and that Morrigan did not appear put out at all. Zevran and Niall were talking with the pair, and he noticed Leliana's blue eyes twinkle with mirth. The Sten stood silently in the background, his strange lavender eyes scanning over the group, as always watchful for any danger, their stoic guardian.
Artemis stood nearby Adela, who was enfolded in a tight hug by Roland, Hafter close at her heels. Alistair watched as Roland's lips brushed across Adela's smooth cheek, and he had to fight against the rise of jealousy that so easily bloomed in his chest. Closing his eyes, he shook the feeling away, reminding himself that Adela was his, that she loved him, and that soon they would be wed. He opened his eyes to see Adela's small hand brush briefly across Roland's cheek as she bent forward slightly to whisper something to him before removing herself from his embrace. Taking a deep breath, Alistair moved from Wynne as Adela approached them, happily embracing the elder mage. Watching as the two women embraced, he hoped that Adela would speak with Roland soon.
DA:O
Despite the chuckle that escaped her full, purple lips, the demon was not amused. Not in the slightest. She had hoped for a worthy prey, one that would not succumb quickly to her might. That had been the deal she had garnered with the maleficar. A prey to amuse her, give her a few hours of pursuit, but who would, eventually, fall to her greater power.
Several days of pursuit, and still the rebellious elf had not realized that his sole purpose was to please her, and then feed her.
The fool stood shoulder to shoulder with the human. And he was not one she was allowed to sink her teeth into. Such a pity, really. Despite his being rather aged, he had a strength and stubbornness about him that could sustain her for many months, had she only been allowed to consume him. As it was, the elf would offer her a substantial meal. One that would last at least as long as the meal the human would provide.
She tired of the cat and mouse game. Actually, she had tired of it days ago. She was hungry, and if she did not move quickly now, she feared her meal would be lost. Lost to one of the more powerful demons that threatened the boundaries of her domain, eager for the feast they knew awaited within her borders.
Why could mortals never learn that, no matter how hard they fought, ultimately they would lose?
DA:O
Gail trailed behind Arlessa Isolde, following her down the staircase and into the main hallway. There, standing amidst more smiles than tears were all of the Grey Wardens and their companions. The elven maid watched as tension eased from Isolde's features. The noblewoman stepped forward, making her way through the crowd, to stand before the young human Gail remembered was Alistair.
Alistair paused, turning his gaze to the woman who had been the bane of his childhood, and whose child he had the misfortune of having to kill. Gail noticed that the elven Warden tensed slightly at the human's side, her small hand slipping into the human's massive paw. The Redcliffe elf frowned slightly at the gesture before remembering her place, her features smoothing out once again into the impassive mask of a servant.
Isolde stood, staring up into the face of the young warden. Her own features were devoid of emotion. What thoughts whirled in her mind none could tell from the passive expression that sat upon her once pretty face. The scaring from her eye had healed greatly, but the eye itself had not been saved. In its place sat a jeweled eye patch. Yet, the rest of the Arlessa's face was as pretty as it had ever been.
She surprised them all when she offered them a smile, placing an elegant hand upon Alistair's brawny arm.
"Wardens," she turned her gaze to Adela, her smile widening. "We are so very pleased that you have all," her eye shifted to Alistair with significant meaning as she gave his arm a slight squeeze, "returned to us safely."
Immediately the tension that had threatened the room eased, and everyone once again resumed their well wishes and greetings. Isolde had turned to the elven warden, taking the younger woman's hand in her own to squeeze it gently.
Gail relaxed, pleased that there would be no scene. Her backbone immediately stiffened, however, upon the entry of Arl Eamon.
DA:O
Nelaros watched as the desire demon circled him and his companion. His gem blue eyes narrowed slightly as she raised a hand. Now! He shouted in his mind at Loghain. As if on cue, the older warrior rushed forward, his sword raised, shield held before him, and his war cry tumbling from his lips.
"For Fereldan!"
The tactic had the desired effect. The demon was more interested in Nelaros, and had paid scant attention to the human. True enough, Loghain had been bent over double, as though he were in pain or exhausted. Simple tactic, but it had worked. The demon was now absorbed in defending herself against a very well rested and undamaged Loghain, who was furious enough to carve bits from her flesh.
Nelaros crept behind the demon, slightly amused that she no longer paid attention to him. After all, wasn't it he she was supposed to try and kill? A glance over at Loghain's furious face and sweeping sword assured the young elf that the demon, at least, had self preservation in mind as she defended herself against the man.
The elven warrior swept his blade out, cutting deeply into the hovering demon's side. She gave out a keening wail, swiping a clawed hand at him. He barely ducked from the main force of the blow, but felt her talons claw bloody trenches across his face. Grimacing at the pain, the elf stepped back, bringing his shield up as the demon turned to give the worrisome elf her full attention.
Loghain, trained and seasoned warrior that he was, took advantage of their foe's distraction, slamming his shield into her back, pushing her closer to the elf and his sword. Nelaros allowed a small grin to cross his bloody face as he drew his weapon back and then plunged it forward. The blade bit into the soft flesh of the demon's bare abdomen, and black, acidic blood spurted from the wound, covering the elf's sword hand. A cry of distress escaped Nelaros' lips as the blood made contact with his flesh, burning. Coughing slightly, shaking his hand, he refused to relinquish the position he had - a position of power against the demon. She was hurt - badly. He moved to pursue his advantage, but the demon moved quickly. Snarling, she backed away from both men, a long clawed hand clutching at the wound in her stomach.
"Fools!" she hissed, continuing her retreat. "I could have given you an easy death. Now, however…" she glanced behind her slightly and then turned, a malicious grin upon her full lips. "You shall have to deal with my pets."
As she spoke, four fiery figures emerged from the gloom behind her. She continued her retreat as her 'pets' advanced.
With a glance to each other, the two men braced themselves to face off against the fiery might of the rage demons.
DA:O
The merriment that had permeated the great hall quickly subsided as the Arl of Redcliffe stalked into the room. He barely glanced at those companions who had been his guests throughout the winter months. His gray eyes flickered, briefly, across the form of his wife. Those same eyes, hard and cold, settled upon the face of Alistair, barely registering the presence of the elven woman - the Warden Commander - who stood beside the young man.
A smile smeared upon his face, Eamon reached over with a hand, offering it to Alistair. As Alistair took the hand, the Arl spoke his first words, "Alistair, my boy!" he proceeded to clap the other hand to the younger man's shoulder. "We are so very pleased to see you alive and well!"
Sheepishly, glancing down at Adela, Alistair nodded his head. The gestures felt unnatural to the young warden, and he found himself shifting slightly out of the Arl's range. "Thank you, My Lord," the young man said respectfully, bowing his red-blond head slightly. "Trust me, we are all pleased to be alive and well."
"Indeed, Your Grace," Adela stepped forward slightly, "we very much appreciate the hospitality you offered to our companions while we found ourselves separated."
Those eyes settled upon the diminutive form of the elf. Alistair was certain he noticed a slight narrowing of those eyes, but then the expression turned decidedly friendly, so he thought perhaps he had imagined it.
"Commander," the Arl bowed his head slightly as a show of respect for her rank. "It is, indeed, my utmost pleasure to host you and your contingency. After all," he swept his arms out to encompass everyone in the hall, "had it not been for you and your companions, not only would I have died, but all of Redcliffe would have fallen to the undead spawn that invaded."
Alistair watched as Adela studied the Arl's face, then offer him a smile. "It was our pleasure, Your Grace."
"And now that you have all returned to us safely, I find that I have a matter that I must discuss," he turned to Alistair, "with Alistair here."
The young man in question frowned, and he glanced over his companions. He noted that Roland was watching them, concern clearly showing in his eyes. The two men's eyes met, and Roland gave a near imperceptible shake of his head, and Alistair recognized it as a warning. Turning his attention back to the Arl, he said, "I would be more than honored to discuss anything with you, My Lord. However," he stepped to the side, giving more space to Adela, making her more prominent in the foreground rather than background. "Anything you have to discuss with me should also be discussed with my Commander."
Now he was certain he saw a flicker of annoyance pass behind the Arl's eyes. He looked over at Roland again. Yes, the recruit was definitely trying to warn him of something with regards to whatever it was the Arl wanted to discuss with him.
Arl Eamon glanced at the elven woman, and back up at Alistair. With a sigh, he indicated the pair to leave the room and led them to his study.
DA:O
The odor of burning wood, flesh and hair rose, causing the two men to cough, turning their heads away from the smell. The demons, all four of them, moved languidly amongst the bodies of the dead that littered the floor along the passageways of the palace, setting clothing, hair and flesh alike aflame. His hand on Loghain's arm, Nelaros turned, scanning the area they had just passed through. The human paused, following the elf's gaze.
The section of the palace they led the demons through was deserted, save for the multitudes of bodies. It was also greatly damaged, with great hunks of the ceiling laying upon the floor, walls torn apart leaving gaping holes to the rooms beyond. Debris and rubble littered the floor, offering many areas for the desperate pair to hide behind.
Of course, Nelaros' idea was not merely to hide, but to ambush.
After a brief discussion, the two split, taking up positions behind fallen statues of armored heroes and ceiling debris. The demons made no attempt to hide their approach, their gyrating, column-like forms slinking amongst the refuse. Pulling out a crossbow he had acquired from one of the many corpses of soldiers, Nelaros pulled back the crank, setting the bolt in the cradle. Setting the weapon against his shoulder, he sighted in, waiting for the pursuers to enter his field of vision.
Behind his own fortress of rubble, Loghain mimicked the elf's actions, setting a similar crossbow and set in to wait.
DA:O
Arl Eamon was a gracious host, and so made certain that both wardens were comfortable almost immediately. He offered each a glass of brandy or wine, each of which were declined. As the Arl poured himself a snifter, Bann Teagan entered the room. The two wardens exchanged surprised glances, and the Bann himself seemed a bit bemused by the company.
"Good, Teagan, I'm glad you are here," the Arl turned to face his brother, giving him a slight nod of his head as his younger brother settled himself in a chair next to Adela. "Now we can plan a strategy against Loghain."
Adela glanced over at Alistair, who sat, remarkably impassively, staring at the man who had promised his father he would care of him. She could not tell for certain, but she thought she noticed a momentary twitch of Alistair's lips.
"What strategy, brother?" Teagan asked, confusion in his tone of voice as he rose to pour himself a glass of wine.
"We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne," Eamon remarked, his eyes settling upon Alistair's paling features. "Someone with blood ties to the ruling family."
The Bann almost dropped the carafe of wine as he turned to Eamon. "Surely you cannot mean Alistair?"
"Who else?" Eamon remarked, ignoring the incredulous look Adela cast him. Alistair, meanwhile, sat, dumbfounded, wondering if this was the reason for Roland's warning glances.
"Fereldan already has a ruler upon the throne," Adela found her voice and rose to her feet. "If you will recall, Your Grace, upon her marriage to Cailan, Anora was appointed as Queen." The elf took a slight step forward. "Not Queen-Consort, but Queen. It was part of the marriage contract Loghain and Maric worked up."
A gray brow twitched. "You seem to know quite a lot about such things, Commander."
Frowning, she replied, "You mean for an elf," it was not a question. "Arl Eamon, you are quite aware of my friendship with Cailan and Anora. It was never a secret. And, yes, I do happen to know quite a bit." More than you know, she thought angrily, still quite upset that Eamon had tried to convince Cailan to set Anora aside. She remained silent on that point, however. It had nothing to do with their current discussion.
Eamon stared down at the smaller woman for several seconds, as though trying to get a sense of her strengths and weaknesses. "Do you really think that people will continue to allow Anora to sit upon the throne? After what her father did at Ostagar?" He finally demanded.
A blond brow twitched slightly. "Begging your pardon, Your Grace," Adela said in respectful tones. "But, you have been ill since before Ostagar. No one truly knows what happened there." She prayed Alistair would remain silent at this point. She was pleasantly surprised when he did. "We were at the battle, and still do not know, precisely what happened…"
"There are rumors…" Eamon began but Adela cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.
"There are rumors, indeed. Many pegging the Wardens as having betrayed Cailan and Fereldan to the darkspawn." her frown deepened and she actually scoffed. "Do you believe those as well? Or only those that would better suit your designs to the throne?"
Teagan bit back a startled cough and Alistair rose to his feet, standing close to Adela. Eamon took in the young man's stance, how close he stood to the elf. His eyes narrowed. "Alistair has a responsibility…"
"As did you, Your Grace," Adela cut in again, heedless of station. "Yet while you failed spectacularly at that, Alistair, however, has never faltered in his."
Silence hung heavy in the air. Adela had not meant for her anger to get the better of her, but she found it difficult to stay her tongue.
"The decision is Alistair's, young lady," Eamon replied in a condescending voice.
"That is true," Alistair spoke up. "It is my decision." He looked Eamon fully in the face. "I have no desire to become King. I am a Grey Warden. And, as such, cannot hold titles. My responsibilities are to eradicate darkspawn and stop Blights." The young warden smirked, shrugging his shoulders slightly at the astonished expression that crossed Eamon's face. "I think that I'm doing a pretty good job of that."
His face reddening, Eamon snarled out, "It's because of this elf that you deny your proper rank!"
"Eamon!" Teagan exclaimed, slamming his glass down as he took a step to his brother. "That elf, as you so named her, saved your life. She saved Isolde's life and the village!"
"But not Connor's!" Eamon shouted, anger taking firm hold of him as he rounded on his sibling.
Silence reigned, and Teagan shook his head. Adela reached over and gently patted Alistair's arm, letting him know that she was there for him.
"There were many who perished, Eamon," Teagan's voice was lower, softer, conciliatory. "The Wardens did everything they could to save Connor."
Taking a deep breath, Eamon hung his head. "I apologize," he murmured. "I know that you and your companions did all you could. I…my grief," he raised his head to look at the young elven woman. "sometimes gets the better of me."
Casting Teagan a thankful look, Adela stepped forward. "It is understandable, Your Grace. If there could have been anything we could have done differently, we would have."
Eamon's gray eyes settled upon Adela's blues, searching. Finally, he nodded. "I know. My brother," he waved a hand in Teagan's direction. "and knights have all told me of the lengths you and your companions went to save the village, to try and save Connor. It was not your fault." He bowed his head slightly. "That mage…"
"Brother," Teagan put in, stepping forward, though apparently still cautious of his brother's sudden volatile nature. "There are many factors in 'guilt' for what happened to the village and here."
The Arl merely nodded his head. "We still have Loghain to attend to." He said as he raised his head, his eyes searching the faces of each of the wardens.
"And we will," Adela assured the man. "However, we have matters regarding ending the Blight to see to."
"Without any more nonsense about my being king," Alistair added vehemently, glaring at the Arl.
"Alistair…" Eamon began, but this time it was Alistair who cut him off.
"No, My Lord. There is no discussion. I am not going to be king. I am a Grey Warden." There was a sudden twinkle in his eye. "And, you are correct. This woman is very dear to me. As a matter of fact, she has agreed to be my wife." He actually smirked at the annoyed expression that crossed Eamon's face. Adela was rather surprised by the delight the other warden was taking in baiting the older man. A glance over at Teagan told her that he, at least, was neither surprised nor dismayed by the news.
Eamon opened his mouth to speak again, but Alistair had finally seemed to have enough of it. "That is not up for discussion either, Your Grace." And, with those words, Alistair clasped Adela's smaller hand into his own, and led her from the room.