Origins AUaphreal42September 17 2011, 20:08:49 UTC
This is the start of an AU I was thinking about picking up again, and I'd welcome thoughts on it, particularly since I've seen comments on this community that people are tired of Origins retellings focusing around a Cousland. Is the premise for this different enough to be interesting?
“So what precisely brings you to Redcliffe?” the Warden asked, his tone casual despite the spatters of blood covering everything. “Not that I minded the help with that ambush.”
“Actually, I was looking for you,” Alexia replied, flicking the blood off her greatsword before sheathing it.
“Really?” he asked with a grin. “I hadn’t realized the tales had spread so far. What precisely drew you to me? My charming wit? My handsome smile?”
A soft footstep behind Alexia’s shoulder suggested her companion had gotten close enough to observe this exchange, and she could only imagine that he was not amused by it. “Your blood, actually,” she answered with a shrug.
Alistair raised an eyebrow but continued undeterred. “Not my usual thing, but I could make a concession for a woman in armor who knows how to handle a large sword so well.”
Alexia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She heard leather armor creak as the man behind her shifted his stance, and she decided to quickly get to the point before he did serious harm to the person they’d come all this way looking for. “Your bloodline,” she clarified. “You’re the last surviving member of the Theirin line, and we’re going to help you claim your father’s throne. And as much as I might be flattered by the attention, I’m not looking for the position of royal mistress. Teyrna is the extent of my ambition, even if I weren’t a married woman.” She gestured over her shoulder to where her husband was standing, and watched Alistair’s eyes narrow in response to the fierce glare she was sure he was receiving.
“I’m not sure who told you what, but I have no interest in being king.”
“Interest or not, you have a duty. Would you rather leave the power in Loghain’s hands?” Seeing the flash of disgust that twisted his features, she nodded. “Bann Teagan told us you should be returning from Lake Callenhad, so we came to intercept you and make preparations to head to Denerim.”
“If you’ve spoken with Teagan, then you’ll understand why I can’t join you,” he replied stiffly. “Arl Eamon is gravely ill, and I have to help find the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure him.”
“The arlessa is sending her men to chase fables.” Her tone was hard and blunt. “You’re needed for more important work, sire.”
Anger flared in his eyes, and he raised his voice. “Arl Eamon is like a father to me. I won’t just let him die. You can’t know what it’s like to see him like this, to think of him dying.” His voice faltered with emotion, and she cut him off harshly.
“To see the man who raised you, who you’ve loved and respected and honored all your life cut down by a cowardly traitor while your duty demands you to be somewhere else? No, I can’t imagine. Please, your majesty, tell me what that’s like.”
Dimly, she was aware of the pressure of a hand on her shoulder through the heavy plate of her pauldron and heard her husband say her name with a note of caution and concern. She took a deep breath and composed herself, shrugging the hand away gently as she squared her shoulders.
Recognition flickered across the Warden’s face as he put the pieces together. “Alexia… teyrna… Cousland. The Highever massacre,” he said with a groan. “Maker, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Clearly.”
Alexia turned her head in response to her husband’s muttered comment. She twitched her lips into a slight smile at his unrepentant expression as she mouthed, “Not helping.”
Turning back to the man she planned to make king, she smoothed her face back into a sympathetic expression. “Eamon is a good man, and I want to see him recover nearly as much as you do,” she said reassuringly. “But we can’t put the needs of one man ahead of those of the kingdom. We’ll find a way to undo what was done to him, but first we need to secure your throne and put a stop to Loghain.”
“And the Blight,” he added firmly.
“For which you’ll need an army, which you can only command as king,” she countered.
Re: Origins AUaphreal42September 17 2011, 20:09:37 UTC
(Didn't all fit in one post. Someday I'll learn concise, but today is not that day.)
{Note to self: Insert explanation of Warden contracts and plans to send Althgar, who has been busy looting bodies or something, to Orzammar.}
“So we’re agreed,” Alexia stated. “We all return to Redcliffe to free Connor, and then our paths diverge. You,” she nodded to the dwarf, “go rally Orzammar against the Blight, and we go to Denerim to claim the throne.”
“After killing Loghain,” Alistair amended, his eyes hard.
“And my father,” her husband added grimly.
“I’ll help you both,” Alexia agreed, reaching up to touch the pommel of her sword as she turned to begin heading back to Redcliffe.
“So what precisely brings you to Redcliffe?” the Warden asked, his tone casual despite the spatters of blood covering everything. “Not that I minded the help with that ambush.”
“Actually, I was looking for you,” Alexia replied, flicking the blood off her greatsword before sheathing it.
“Really?” he asked with a grin. “I hadn’t realized the tales had spread so far. What precisely drew you to me? My charming wit? My handsome smile?”
A soft footstep behind Alexia’s shoulder suggested her companion had gotten close enough to observe this exchange, and she could only imagine that he was not amused by it. “Your blood, actually,” she answered with a shrug.
Alistair raised an eyebrow but continued undeterred. “Not my usual thing, but I could make a concession for a woman in armor who knows how to handle a large sword so well.”
Alexia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She heard leather armor creak as the man behind her shifted his stance, and she decided to quickly get to the point before he did serious harm to the person they’d come all this way looking for. “Your bloodline,” she clarified. “You’re the last surviving member of the Theirin line, and we’re going to help you claim your father’s throne. And as much as I might be flattered by the attention, I’m not looking for the position of royal mistress. Teyrna is the extent of my ambition, even if I weren’t a married woman.” She gestured over her shoulder to where her husband was standing, and watched Alistair’s eyes narrow in response to the fierce glare she was sure he was receiving.
“I’m not sure who told you what, but I have no interest in being king.”
“Interest or not, you have a duty. Would you rather leave the power in Loghain’s hands?” Seeing the flash of disgust that twisted his features, she nodded. “Bann Teagan told us you should be returning from Lake Callenhad, so we came to intercept you and make preparations to head to Denerim.”
“If you’ve spoken with Teagan, then you’ll understand why I can’t join you,” he replied stiffly. “Arl Eamon is gravely ill, and I have to help find the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure him.”
“The arlessa is sending her men to chase fables.” Her tone was hard and blunt. “You’re needed for more important work, sire.”
Anger flared in his eyes, and he raised his voice. “Arl Eamon is like a father to me. I won’t just let him die. You can’t know what it’s like to see him like this, to think of him dying.” His voice faltered with emotion, and she cut him off harshly.
“To see the man who raised you, who you’ve loved and respected and honored all your life cut down by a cowardly traitor while your duty demands you to be somewhere else? No, I can’t imagine. Please, your majesty, tell me what that’s like.”
Dimly, she was aware of the pressure of a hand on her shoulder through the heavy plate of her pauldron and heard her husband say her name with a note of caution and concern. She took a deep breath and composed herself, shrugging the hand away gently as she squared her shoulders.
Recognition flickered across the Warden’s face as he put the pieces together. “Alexia… teyrna… Cousland. The Highever massacre,” he said with a groan. “Maker, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Clearly.”
Alexia turned her head in response to her husband’s muttered comment. She twitched her lips into a slight smile at his unrepentant expression as she mouthed, “Not helping.”
Turning back to the man she planned to make king, she smoothed her face back into a sympathetic expression. “Eamon is a good man, and I want to see him recover nearly as much as you do,” she said reassuringly. “But we can’t put the needs of one man ahead of those of the kingdom. We’ll find a way to undo what was done to him, but first we need to secure your throne and put a stop to Loghain.”
“And the Blight,” he added firmly.
“For which you’ll need an army, which you can only command as king,” she countered.
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{Note to self: Insert explanation of Warden contracts and plans to send Althgar, who has been busy looting bodies or something, to Orzammar.}
“So we’re agreed,” Alexia stated. “We all return to Redcliffe to free Connor, and then our paths diverge. You,” she nodded to the dwarf, “go rally Orzammar against the Blight, and we go to Denerim to claim the throne.”
“After killing Loghain,” Alistair amended, his eyes hard.
“And my father,” her husband added grimly.
“I’ll help you both,” Alexia agreed, reaching up to touch the pommel of her sword as she turned to begin heading back to Redcliffe.
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