There and Back - Chapter 102
Chapter One Hundred Two: Duty and Suffering
We ate a late dinner, slightly subdued compared to our usual boisterousness, given those that were missing from the table - Aedan, Zevran, and Wynne. Kallian still looked a bit thunderstruck at the chatting and teasing, but she sat on a corner between Wulf and Solona, with Leli across from her, and she didn’t look like she was panicking too badly. Nathaniel sat across from me and just watched silently.
Anders was feeling better, so when we were done, we brought up plates for Zev and Wynne, and Alistair, Morrigan, and I followed the healer up to the room where Aedan lay sleeping.
I stopped Morrigan outside the room, giving her a hug and thanking her for her help; her expression was a humourous combination of pleased and irritated, and she sniffed. “He is our leader, and a Grey Warden. He will be needed, and that means he must be healed.”
“I know. And I thank you for believing that, and for helping, regardless of your reasons.”
Her lips twitched in a small smile, and I squeezed her one more time before entering Aedan’s room.
Zevran looked exhausted, and I hugged him. Wynne smiled tiredly at us, and Anders joined her on that side of the bed. Morrigan went over there too, and the three mages got into a quiet discussion of magic that went completely over my head. Finally ready, their auras flared and weaved together, and the healing began.
It was gentler than the last time, it felt like; more precision and less raw power, I assumed. None of them needed Lyrium, and they didn’t look completely exhausted when they were done. Wynne assured us that Aedan would be fine, and now was just sleeping. She put a sleeping spell on him that would last until morning, and we all left an anxious Zevran there, climbing onto the bed beside the rogue.
Theron whispered that he would go fill Duncan in on everything that had happened, and we wished him goodnight. Alistair and I passed the library on our way to bed, and I saw Nathaniel sitting there, in the dark, a glass of some sort of brown liquor - whiskey, perhaps? - in his hand. Gesturing to Alistair to go on to his room without me, I poked my head into the library cautiously.
“Nathaniel? You okay?”
“Not especially, no.” His words were slightly slurred, and I wondered how much of that brown liquor he’d had. He gestured to a chair across from him, and I perched uneasily on the edge.
We sat silently for a minute, awkwardly, and I was about to stand up again and excuse myself when he finally spoke. “She begged me to, you know. To rape her. It would be better than letting Thomas have her, she said. Kinder. She begged me to ‘accidentally’ kill her instead of letting it drag on.”
I closed my eyes, trying to force back the tears and the horror I knew he didn’t need from me. I was frantically trying to think of something - anything - to say, and coming up blank, when he spoke again.
“And Maker help me, I was going to do it.”
I sat, thinking about what I could say to that. “Nathaniel…if it had been me, I would have said the same thing. Some fates are worse than death, and sometimes mercy requires a friend’s help, no matter how painful.” I reached out and gripped his hand. “You wouldn’t have been wrong.” I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see my sincerity. “You are not your father, and you are not the monster he tried to make you into. You are a good person, who was trying to do the best you could in an unwinnable situation.”
He watched me, mouth moving without sound, looking so lost I wished I could take all of it away. Suddenly, the hand holding his drink dropped, the glass falling from his fingers to shatter on the ground. His whole body slumped, and I looked up from the shards of glass to see his head loll back, eyes closed. I jumped to my feet, wondering if he’d been injured and somehow no one had noticed; I was ready to scream for help when he let out a sonorous snore.
Leli stepped out of the shadows in a corner of the library, reaching out to touch my shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. He needed to say that to someone, and he wouldn’t talk to any of us who… saw him.”
I looked at her suspiciously. “You drugged him.”
She sighed. “He needs rest, yet he wouldn’t close his eyes. You coming along while he was…talkative…was pure coincidence. He probably won’t remember telling you in the morning, but he’ll feel better for it all the same, yes?”
“Leli…” I remembered Aedan had done something similar to Alistair back at Soldier’s Peak; it seemed slipping sleeping draughts into people’s drinks was common practice in Thedas, but something about it felt wrong. They should have been left to deal with their feelings their own way. But what if he hadn’t? What if he refused to deal with it? I shook my head.
“I know, Sierra. And I’m sorry you were burdened with his guilt. But I…” She looked at the sleeping man, a slight grimace on her face. “I couldn’t let him just suffer like that anymore,” she finally continued. “He’ll sleep for twelve hours, and hopefully wake refreshed. Will you help me get him to the barracks?”
I looked at the snoring, limp body in front of me and sighed. “You could have at least gotten him back to the barracks before you knocked him out.”
Leli chuckled, and between the two of us we hoisted Nathaniel up and began walking him down the hallway. Even as emaciated as he was, he was heavy, and he was a good six inches taller than either of us; it was awkward. When we passed by Alistair’s room, I paused, shifting Nathaniel’s weight, and then turned and knocked. Alistair, wearing his soft sleeping trousers and a shirt he’d obviously just thrown on, answered, his expression confused until he saw the dead weight Leli and I were dragging.
Without even asking, he stepped out, took Nate’s arm, and slung the man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He made it look so easy, and Leli and I exchanged amused glances as we both ruefully rubbed at our sore backs. I followed Alistair and Leli to the barracks, helping to ease the poor man into a bed. Leli worked his boots off, and then tucked him in.
“He looks so peaceful like this.” Leli’s expression was wistful.
“Yeah. Like a baby,” I teased.
“Or a puppy,” Alistair added.
She grinned and waved us away. “Get off with you, then.”
I gave her a quick hug. “Good night, Leli.”
Theron was in his room in the barracks, one of the few rooms with an actual door, and we stopped to talk briefly. Blake was asleep, dead to the world on a little trundle bed at the end of Theron's bunk.
“How are you doing?” I asked, noting the bags under Theron's eyes and the pale complexion.
“This is harder than I thought. Watching, not being able to even say anything. Loghain…how did I never see what he’s become? He’s completely mad. And I could get Anora to tell the truth, I know I could.”
“In the end, though, does it matter?” Alistair’s question surprised me, and he flushed when Theron and I both stared. “Whether she colluded in a trap or was caught in one herself, she had nothing to do with the torture, or the…other things, that Howe was doing. She wasn’t the one who called the retreat at Ostagar. And clearly Loghain is the one calling the shots at the palace.”
“It matters to me,” Theron muttered. He looked from me to Alistair. “If something bad happened, and it was possible…just possible…that Sierra was involved, that she caused some of the suffering, wouldn’t you need to know, so you could make your decisions?”
“Sierra would never.” I smiled at my husband and squeezed his hand. “I can’t imagine having to wonder about that. But…if you think it’s even possible, if you can’t be completely sure that it’s not… Doesn’t that answer your question?”
Theron’s face was so crestfallen, I felt sick. I reached out to pull him into a hug, and felt Alistair wrap his arms around both of us from behind me.
“We’re here for you, whatever you need, whatever you decide, okay?” I whispered.
He nodded, then turned away. “I think I’d like to go to sleep now.”
“One second.” I gestured to Alistair to stay, and slipped out of the room, finding Anders sitting on his bunk, expression somewhat…smug.
“Anders, I want to talk more later - tomorrow, maybe - but can I have one of those sleeping potions?
He rummaged in his pack and handed me a small vial. “Trouble sleeping?”
“It’s not for me. Thanks.”
He nodded knowingly and I headed back into Theron’s room. “Drink this.” He looked about to object, but I put my finger on his lips to stop him. “Drink it. You need rest, and I know you aren’t going to sleep, between worrying about Anora, Loghain, and the Landsmeet.”
Alistair nodded encouragingly, and he sighed and took the vial, popping the cork with his teeth and tossing the entire contents back.
We wished him a good night, and left him to get ready for bed before he passed out entirely. Alistair and I wandered back to his room hand in hand; I barely paused to check if we were being watched before following him inside. I assumed Kallian and Solona were in my room, but didn’t want to risk waking them up by checking.
Alistair sat on the bed while I changed out of the dress I wore. “So what was that all about with Nathaniel?”
“He was feeling guilty for his father’s actions. So Leli drugged him to sleep.”
“What is with the people we know drugging someone to make them sleep?”
I laughed; I hadn’t been sure if Alistair knew Aedan had done that to him. “I don’t know.”
Once I was naked, before I could slip into a nightgown, Alistair tossed off his tunic and reached out, pulling me into his arms and laying us both back on the bed. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“Still feeling guilty?” He tucked my head under his chin, stroking my hair softly.
“Wouldn’t you?” I sighed.
“Probably.” He chuckled when I pinched him. “But that doesn’t mean you should. You aren’t responsible for Rendon Howe just because you knew in advance that he was evil. It isn’t your fault that you can’t prevent every bad thing from happening. Just like it's not Nathaniel's fault because it was his father.”
His calm voice and the slow beat of his heart soothed me, and I drifted to sleep, exhausted from the emotional day we’d had. I woke several times with nightmares - between darkspawn, Nathaniel, and Kallian, I slept poorly - but most of the time managed to avoid waking Alistair; I wasn’t the only one having bad dreams, though, based on the muffled shouts I could hear from across the hall. After my final nightmare, a horrifying vision of being Kallian and watching Nathaniel strangle me as I lay tied down, naked and helpless, I woke up struggling and accidentally smacked Alistair in the head.
He sat up, gathering me into his arms, holding down my flailing limbs and shushing me until I relaxed. I sobbed into his shoulder and he held me until I cried myself out, then slowly, reverently made love to me until I shattered in his arms and afterwards, fell into a deeper, dreamless sleep.
The next day everyone woke at varying times, so the dining room kept up a steady supply of bread, cheese, and fruit and everyone just grabbed plates and helped themselves whenever they got up. Eamon left early with a contingent of soldiers to accompany Connor and Isolde to the docks. We agreed to wait until he returned to have our talk.
True to Leli’s word, Nathaniel’s expression was slightly less tortured when we finally met in the library, though he wouldn’t meet my eyes; Kallian had stopped flinching every time one of the men looked at her, though she still clung to Wulf. Anora, Eamon, Teagan, and Alistair were there, as well as Leliana and the two elves, with Theron playing door guard as usual.
I jumped out of my chair when Aedan came through the door, and launched myself into his arms. He laughed and held me while I cried on his shoulder; Zevran stood behind him, looking relieved and happy, and I hoped that meant whatever problems the two of them had, they’d worked them out. Everyone else came up to offer handshakes or hugs, depending. Anora offered a nod, and Aedan responded with a brief bow - more than she deserved, certainly, but he seemed determined not to act like she’d betrayed him. He also greeted Nathaniel with a friendly smile, which made my heart soar.
I pulled Aedan to a seat between me and Zevran; Zevran sat with Aedan’s hand possessively on his shoulder, while I held the opposite hand. Alistair, grinning at Aedan’s recovery, cleared his throat and started the meeting.
Almost immediately, Anora requested a more private audience with Aedan, Alistair, and Eamon. Unable to come up with a good enough excuse, the rest of us, except Theron and Nathaniel, were forced to leave. Eamon insisted Alistair’s ‘bodyguard’ stay. Anora was highly offended, but couldn’t do much about it. Aedan asserted that Nathaniel was now the Arl of Amaranthine, and thus had a direct interest in the discussion - Nate started to argue until Aedan’s glare shut him up. I was startled, so used to assuming Nate would become a Grey Warden that I hadn’t thought about the implications. Being rescued from his father’s dungeon, helping to defeat the man…he very well could take over the Arling. Reluctantly, I left.
I followed Zevran back to Aedan’s room, and he assured me he and Aedan were doing well.
“Seeing him like that, carrying him back here, wondering if we’d make it in time... A petty misunderstanding about hurt feelings seems rather pointless, no?”
I laughed. “Yeah, too bad Alistair didn’t almost die at Soldier’s Peak - maybe I’d have been able to forgive him sooner.”
I told him what Nathaniel had said before passing out; he was sympathetic.
“Even the Crows don’t give someone those sorts of choices during training. Kill a rival, someone you trained with, absolutely, but someone who’d nursed you to health after an injury? No. Although I suppose usually no one nursed any of us back to health; if we were too badly injured for a healing potion or two, we would die.”
“Nate killed his father?”
“Oh yes. Aedan was fighting him while the rest of us dealt with the guards and the mage; Howe was quite good for an old man.” He grinned, his expression feral. “Nathaniel was supposed to wait outside the door, but instead he followed us, picked up one of the dead guards’ swords, and ran his father through. Cut his throat, after, for good measure. Aedan told him he didn’t have to, that he shouldn’t have had to kill his own father…but hearing what he’s been through, I’m not sure if that’s true. I imagine it might provide Nathaniel some…”
“Closure?”
“Just so. Now, tell me about the palace?”
I told him what I knew of the discussion, the assassination attempt, and Loghain’s responses.
“I’m guessing this Cauthrien didn’t know about Loghain hiring the Crows, then, yes? How I’d love to be able to tell her.”
“You’ll get your chance at the Landsmeet. She’ll be there with orders to keep us out. Even without all this, she’d let us through. She idolizes Loghain, but she’s not stupid. Just a little blind.”
I spent a while going from room to room, checking in on my companions, while I waited for the meeting to be finished. I’d barely seen Duncan in a couple of days, and so I spent a while chatting with him, ensuring he was caught up on all the details of what had been happening.
As I’d predicted, he wasn’t happy that I’d put myself at risk by writing to Nathaniel, and was even less pleased with my letter to Varric.
“What if the Chantry hear about your skills as a seer?” he asked, after I paraphrased the one to Varric. “Bad enough Greagoir knows. You think it will matter to them that you have templar powers when you seem to be able to predict the future? Or when they learn you were sent to another realm by darkspawn magic? Never mind the Grey Wardens. I’m sure they’d love to study you and find out how you seem to nullify the taint somehow, and determine how much you know about the Architect. If they even dreamed of how many of their secrets you knew, they’d probably try to put you through the Joining again, which could very well kill you, given your…odd…reaction to the last Joining.”
“I know, Duncan. I know, it’s a risk. But you think it’s better to allow Kirkwall to degenerate into chaos, to not prevent all-out war between mages and templars, given the chance? My life isn’t worth all of those who might be saved.”
He sighed. “I thought you told Alistair you don’t have a hero complex.”
I snorted a laugh and hugged him. “It’s not a hero complex. It’s a duty, and you, of all people, can’t blame me for that, right?”
He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Fair enough.”
I checked in on the others in the barracks; Sten was impatient to get done with the politicking so we could get back to trying to kill the Archdemon, Jowan was anxious being in a city so near a very large, well-staffed Chantry, the dwarves were bored and wanted to find something to go kill, though Bel had been working on his voice training when Leli had time, and he barely stuttered at all any more. Anders was asleep, still recovering from the magebane.
Blake was practicing his letters, between running errands for Theron, Duncan, or any of the others. He assured me he was doing well, and that no one had been unkind to him since Theron had taken him on. He'd probably put on ten pounds, since that day in the kitchens at Redcliffe, and he was going to need new clothes soon. I read with him for a while, just enjoying the simple pleasures of reading and watching a keen student learn.
I knew Morrigan had taken to eavesdropping in bird form, but I found Wulf and the other women - Kallian, Solona, Wynne, and Leliana - in the dining room, mostly trying to help Kallian feel at ease, from what I could tell. Wynne had checked her out and declared that Anders had done a good job at healing her, leaving her physically well, at any rate, and everyone just refrained from asking about her mental state.
I sat down with them in the middle of a discussion about what Kallian wanted to do since she was free. She didn’t seem to know, just insisted she could not live in the Alienage anymore, though she did want to go visit her father. Happy to have something to do, we decided we would accompany her there right away. Faren was happy to come, as was Zevran, so we all went to change into armour and meet in the hall. Wulf, Solona, Leliana, Wynne, Zevran, Faren, and I all accompanied Kallian when we left Eamon’s. She seemed less nervous with fewer humans around, and so many women. Wearing armour, a borrowed bow on her back, with a handful of people following her, she seemed almost like what I imagined she’d been before Vaughn - confident, relaxed, competent.
Until we were approached by a guard. I didn't recognise him, but he must have been one of Kylon's, since no one else should have been patrolling the Alienage gates. The poor sergeant hadn't been able to rid his ranks of all the idiots, apparently; this one was probably in his twenties, had tiny, piggy eyes and was significantly overweight. He had a sword at his hip, a heavy, impractical, ceremonial thing that looked like it had never been used, but no helmet and the straps on his armour strained against his bulk.
He held an apple, biting into it noisily and then addressing Kallian with his mouth full, spittle and chunks of apple spraying from his lips. "Oy, you! Knife-ears!"
Kallian tensed, and Wulf took her arm, dragging her halfway behind him. I stepped forward, blocking his line of sight to the fearful elf, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Ser?" I inquired, voice flat but not disrespectful. "May I help you?"
He looked me over, his gaze travelling over my tight-fitting armour with a leer. He tore his gaze from my chest to look back at my face. "I've got no quarrel with you, though I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, sweetheart." Zev stirred behind me, and I waved my hand in a gesture I hoped he'd understand. "But them knife-ears can't just parade around here with weapons. They're goin' to Fort Drakon."
I drew myself up, trying to look as haughty as I could. "I am lady Sierra Cousland, and these are my guards and my lady's maid. You shall not interfere here, guardsman, or I can guarantee your superiors will not be pleased by my complaints."
He looked at Kallian skeptically. "Body guards, I could almost let pass, my Lady, but that's no lady's maid." His tone was a little more respectful, but I still wanted to strangle him with my bare hands.
I took a chance that he was a pervert, in addition to an idiot. "Oh, you know, hired body guards are all fine and dandy, but there's nothing quite like the protection of a well-trained friend with unquestioning loyalty." I winked, and his eyes widened. I could hear Zevran chuckle at my back. “And she is very well trained.”
He looked at her again, apparently unconvinced, and I glanced back to see her standing firm, cheeks flushed, but refusing to back down. I tilted my head, gesturing to her bow, and with a nod she unslung it and nocked an arrow. I turned back, grabbed the apple from his hand, and tossed it into the air, hoping beyond hope that she knew what she was doing with that bow. I probably should have asked her first.
To my relief, she spun and fired so fast I barely registered the movement, and the apple was pierced neatly through the center and pinned to the side of the building an inch from the idiot’s right ear. The shaft vibrated with the force of the shot, and I doubted I’d be strong enough to pry the arrow free.
The guard gasped and jumped away, then turned to glower at the elf. He looked like he might try to make something of it, and I sighed.
I fished through the coin pouch on my belt while I nodded my head at the group behind me. “Look, guardsman, the group you see behind me are all that good.” I nodded at the arrow. “They’re not going to go quietly, and you’re here all alone. And your sergeant owes my family a really big favour. Take this,” I gave him a small handful of coin, “and go buy yourself a new apple. Forget you saw us. And next time you see Sergeant Kylon, ask him about my brother, Aedan Cousland, the Grey Warden. I think you’ll find he agrees that you should walk away.”
Grumbling, shooting dirty looks at me and Kallian both, ser piggy finally turned and walked away, leaving the gate unguarded. I approached Kallian slowly, stopping a few feet away. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Though I’m not sure whether to be flattered or irritated.” She chuckled, and I relaxed, releasing a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. I had been afraid she’d be offended - or traumatised - by my implication that she was a servant in more than just the traditional sense. It was sickening and racist, but it felt at the time like the best way to end the conflict before someone had gotten hurt.
“Definitely flattered.”
“I’m sorry that I cost you-“
“Nothing I wasn’t more-than-willing to pay. I’m just sorry it was necessary. Nice shot, by the way.” I grinned.
“Not that nice - I meant to nick his cheek.”
We ate a late dinner, slightly subdued compared to our usual boisterousness, given those that were missing from the table - Aedan, Zevran, and Wynne. Kallian still looked a bit thunderstruck at the chatting and teasing, but she sat on a corner between Wulf and Solona, with Leli across from her, and she didn’t look like she was panicking too badly. Nathaniel sat across from me and just watched silently.
Anders was feeling better, so when we were done, we brought up plates for Zev and Wynne, and Alistair, Morrigan, and I followed the healer up to the room where Aedan lay sleeping.
I stopped Morrigan outside the room, giving her a hug and thanking her for her help; her expression was a humourous combination of pleased and irritated, and she sniffed. “He is our leader, and a Grey Warden. He will be needed, and that means he must be healed.”
“I know. And I thank you for believing that, and for helping, regardless of your reasons.”
Her lips twitched in a small smile, and I squeezed her one more time before entering Aedan’s room.
Zevran looked exhausted, and I hugged him. Wynne smiled tiredly at us, and Anders joined her on that side of the bed. Morrigan went over there too, and the three mages got into a quiet discussion of magic that went completely over my head. Finally ready, their auras flared and weaved together, and the healing began.
It was gentler than the last time, it felt like; more precision and less raw power, I assumed. None of them needed Lyrium, and they didn’t look completely exhausted when they were done. Wynne assured us that Aedan would be fine, and now was just sleeping. She put a sleeping spell on him that would last until morning, and we all left an anxious Zevran there, climbing onto the bed beside the rogue.
Theron whispered that he would go fill Duncan in on everything that had happened, and we wished him goodnight. Alistair and I passed the library on our way to bed, and I saw Nathaniel sitting there, in the dark, a glass of some sort of brown liquor - whiskey, perhaps? - in his hand. Gesturing to Alistair to go on to his room without me, I poked my head into the library cautiously.
“Nathaniel? You okay?”
“Not especially, no.” His words were slightly slurred, and I wondered how much of that brown liquor he’d had. He gestured to a chair across from him, and I perched uneasily on the edge.
We sat silently for a minute, awkwardly, and I was about to stand up again and excuse myself when he finally spoke. “She begged me to, you know. To rape her. It would be better than letting Thomas have her, she said. Kinder. She begged me to ‘accidentally’ kill her instead of letting it drag on.”
I closed my eyes, trying to force back the tears and the horror I knew he didn’t need from me. I was frantically trying to think of something - anything - to say, and coming up blank, when he spoke again.
“And Maker help me, I was going to do it.”
I sat, thinking about what I could say to that. “Nathaniel…if it had been me, I would have said the same thing. Some fates are worse than death, and sometimes mercy requires a friend’s help, no matter how painful.” I reached out and gripped his hand. “You wouldn’t have been wrong.” I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see my sincerity. “You are not your father, and you are not the monster he tried to make you into. You are a good person, who was trying to do the best you could in an unwinnable situation.”
He watched me, mouth moving without sound, looking so lost I wished I could take all of it away. Suddenly, the hand holding his drink dropped, the glass falling from his fingers to shatter on the ground. His whole body slumped, and I looked up from the shards of glass to see his head loll back, eyes closed. I jumped to my feet, wondering if he’d been injured and somehow no one had noticed; I was ready to scream for help when he let out a sonorous snore.
Leli stepped out of the shadows in a corner of the library, reaching out to touch my shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. He needed to say that to someone, and he wouldn’t talk to any of us who… saw him.”
I looked at her suspiciously. “You drugged him.”
She sighed. “He needs rest, yet he wouldn’t close his eyes. You coming along while he was…talkative…was pure coincidence. He probably won’t remember telling you in the morning, but he’ll feel better for it all the same, yes?”
“Leli…” I remembered Aedan had done something similar to Alistair back at Soldier’s Peak; it seemed slipping sleeping draughts into people’s drinks was common practice in Thedas, but something about it felt wrong. They should have been left to deal with their feelings their own way. But what if he hadn’t? What if he refused to deal with it? I shook my head.
“I know, Sierra. And I’m sorry you were burdened with his guilt. But I…” She looked at the sleeping man, a slight grimace on her face. “I couldn’t let him just suffer like that anymore,” she finally continued. “He’ll sleep for twelve hours, and hopefully wake refreshed. Will you help me get him to the barracks?”
I looked at the snoring, limp body in front of me and sighed. “You could have at least gotten him back to the barracks before you knocked him out.”
Leli chuckled, and between the two of us we hoisted Nathaniel up and began walking him down the hallway. Even as emaciated as he was, he was heavy, and he was a good six inches taller than either of us; it was awkward. When we passed by Alistair’s room, I paused, shifting Nathaniel’s weight, and then turned and knocked. Alistair, wearing his soft sleeping trousers and a shirt he’d obviously just thrown on, answered, his expression confused until he saw the dead weight Leli and I were dragging.
Without even asking, he stepped out, took Nate’s arm, and slung the man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He made it look so easy, and Leli and I exchanged amused glances as we both ruefully rubbed at our sore backs. I followed Alistair and Leli to the barracks, helping to ease the poor man into a bed. Leli worked his boots off, and then tucked him in.
“He looks so peaceful like this.” Leli’s expression was wistful.
“Yeah. Like a baby,” I teased.
“Or a puppy,” Alistair added.
She grinned and waved us away. “Get off with you, then.”
I gave her a quick hug. “Good night, Leli.”
Theron was in his room in the barracks, one of the few rooms with an actual door, and we stopped to talk briefly. Blake was asleep, dead to the world on a little trundle bed at the end of Theron's bunk.
“How are you doing?” I asked, noting the bags under Theron's eyes and the pale complexion.
“This is harder than I thought. Watching, not being able to even say anything. Loghain…how did I never see what he’s become? He’s completely mad. And I could get Anora to tell the truth, I know I could.”
“In the end, though, does it matter?” Alistair’s question surprised me, and he flushed when Theron and I both stared. “Whether she colluded in a trap or was caught in one herself, she had nothing to do with the torture, or the…other things, that Howe was doing. She wasn’t the one who called the retreat at Ostagar. And clearly Loghain is the one calling the shots at the palace.”
“It matters to me,” Theron muttered. He looked from me to Alistair. “If something bad happened, and it was possible…just possible…that Sierra was involved, that she caused some of the suffering, wouldn’t you need to know, so you could make your decisions?”
“Sierra would never.” I smiled at my husband and squeezed his hand. “I can’t imagine having to wonder about that. But…if you think it’s even possible, if you can’t be completely sure that it’s not… Doesn’t that answer your question?”
Theron’s face was so crestfallen, I felt sick. I reached out to pull him into a hug, and felt Alistair wrap his arms around both of us from behind me.
“We’re here for you, whatever you need, whatever you decide, okay?” I whispered.
He nodded, then turned away. “I think I’d like to go to sleep now.”
“One second.” I gestured to Alistair to stay, and slipped out of the room, finding Anders sitting on his bunk, expression somewhat…smug.
“Anders, I want to talk more later - tomorrow, maybe - but can I have one of those sleeping potions?
He rummaged in his pack and handed me a small vial. “Trouble sleeping?”
“It’s not for me. Thanks.”
He nodded knowingly and I headed back into Theron’s room. “Drink this.” He looked about to object, but I put my finger on his lips to stop him. “Drink it. You need rest, and I know you aren’t going to sleep, between worrying about Anora, Loghain, and the Landsmeet.”
Alistair nodded encouragingly, and he sighed and took the vial, popping the cork with his teeth and tossing the entire contents back.
We wished him a good night, and left him to get ready for bed before he passed out entirely. Alistair and I wandered back to his room hand in hand; I barely paused to check if we were being watched before following him inside. I assumed Kallian and Solona were in my room, but didn’t want to risk waking them up by checking.
Alistair sat on the bed while I changed out of the dress I wore. “So what was that all about with Nathaniel?”
“He was feeling guilty for his father’s actions. So Leli drugged him to sleep.”
“What is with the people we know drugging someone to make them sleep?”
I laughed; I hadn’t been sure if Alistair knew Aedan had done that to him. “I don’t know.”
Once I was naked, before I could slip into a nightgown, Alistair tossed off his tunic and reached out, pulling me into his arms and laying us both back on the bed. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“Still feeling guilty?” He tucked my head under his chin, stroking my hair softly.
“Wouldn’t you?” I sighed.
“Probably.” He chuckled when I pinched him. “But that doesn’t mean you should. You aren’t responsible for Rendon Howe just because you knew in advance that he was evil. It isn’t your fault that you can’t prevent every bad thing from happening. Just like it's not Nathaniel's fault because it was his father.”
His calm voice and the slow beat of his heart soothed me, and I drifted to sleep, exhausted from the emotional day we’d had. I woke several times with nightmares - between darkspawn, Nathaniel, and Kallian, I slept poorly - but most of the time managed to avoid waking Alistair; I wasn’t the only one having bad dreams, though, based on the muffled shouts I could hear from across the hall. After my final nightmare, a horrifying vision of being Kallian and watching Nathaniel strangle me as I lay tied down, naked and helpless, I woke up struggling and accidentally smacked Alistair in the head.
He sat up, gathering me into his arms, holding down my flailing limbs and shushing me until I relaxed. I sobbed into his shoulder and he held me until I cried myself out, then slowly, reverently made love to me until I shattered in his arms and afterwards, fell into a deeper, dreamless sleep.
The next day everyone woke at varying times, so the dining room kept up a steady supply of bread, cheese, and fruit and everyone just grabbed plates and helped themselves whenever they got up. Eamon left early with a contingent of soldiers to accompany Connor and Isolde to the docks. We agreed to wait until he returned to have our talk.
True to Leli’s word, Nathaniel’s expression was slightly less tortured when we finally met in the library, though he wouldn’t meet my eyes; Kallian had stopped flinching every time one of the men looked at her, though she still clung to Wulf. Anora, Eamon, Teagan, and Alistair were there, as well as Leliana and the two elves, with Theron playing door guard as usual.
I jumped out of my chair when Aedan came through the door, and launched myself into his arms. He laughed and held me while I cried on his shoulder; Zevran stood behind him, looking relieved and happy, and I hoped that meant whatever problems the two of them had, they’d worked them out. Everyone else came up to offer handshakes or hugs, depending. Anora offered a nod, and Aedan responded with a brief bow - more than she deserved, certainly, but he seemed determined not to act like she’d betrayed him. He also greeted Nathaniel with a friendly smile, which made my heart soar.
I pulled Aedan to a seat between me and Zevran; Zevran sat with Aedan’s hand possessively on his shoulder, while I held the opposite hand. Alistair, grinning at Aedan’s recovery, cleared his throat and started the meeting.
Almost immediately, Anora requested a more private audience with Aedan, Alistair, and Eamon. Unable to come up with a good enough excuse, the rest of us, except Theron and Nathaniel, were forced to leave. Eamon insisted Alistair’s ‘bodyguard’ stay. Anora was highly offended, but couldn’t do much about it. Aedan asserted that Nathaniel was now the Arl of Amaranthine, and thus had a direct interest in the discussion - Nate started to argue until Aedan’s glare shut him up. I was startled, so used to assuming Nate would become a Grey Warden that I hadn’t thought about the implications. Being rescued from his father’s dungeon, helping to defeat the man…he very well could take over the Arling. Reluctantly, I left.
I followed Zevran back to Aedan’s room, and he assured me he and Aedan were doing well.
“Seeing him like that, carrying him back here, wondering if we’d make it in time... A petty misunderstanding about hurt feelings seems rather pointless, no?”
I laughed. “Yeah, too bad Alistair didn’t almost die at Soldier’s Peak - maybe I’d have been able to forgive him sooner.”
I told him what Nathaniel had said before passing out; he was sympathetic.
“Even the Crows don’t give someone those sorts of choices during training. Kill a rival, someone you trained with, absolutely, but someone who’d nursed you to health after an injury? No. Although I suppose usually no one nursed any of us back to health; if we were too badly injured for a healing potion or two, we would die.”
“Nate killed his father?”
“Oh yes. Aedan was fighting him while the rest of us dealt with the guards and the mage; Howe was quite good for an old man.” He grinned, his expression feral. “Nathaniel was supposed to wait outside the door, but instead he followed us, picked up one of the dead guards’ swords, and ran his father through. Cut his throat, after, for good measure. Aedan told him he didn’t have to, that he shouldn’t have had to kill his own father…but hearing what he’s been through, I’m not sure if that’s true. I imagine it might provide Nathaniel some…”
“Closure?”
“Just so. Now, tell me about the palace?”
I told him what I knew of the discussion, the assassination attempt, and Loghain’s responses.
“I’m guessing this Cauthrien didn’t know about Loghain hiring the Crows, then, yes? How I’d love to be able to tell her.”
“You’ll get your chance at the Landsmeet. She’ll be there with orders to keep us out. Even without all this, she’d let us through. She idolizes Loghain, but she’s not stupid. Just a little blind.”
I spent a while going from room to room, checking in on my companions, while I waited for the meeting to be finished. I’d barely seen Duncan in a couple of days, and so I spent a while chatting with him, ensuring he was caught up on all the details of what had been happening.
As I’d predicted, he wasn’t happy that I’d put myself at risk by writing to Nathaniel, and was even less pleased with my letter to Varric.
“What if the Chantry hear about your skills as a seer?” he asked, after I paraphrased the one to Varric. “Bad enough Greagoir knows. You think it will matter to them that you have templar powers when you seem to be able to predict the future? Or when they learn you were sent to another realm by darkspawn magic? Never mind the Grey Wardens. I’m sure they’d love to study you and find out how you seem to nullify the taint somehow, and determine how much you know about the Architect. If they even dreamed of how many of their secrets you knew, they’d probably try to put you through the Joining again, which could very well kill you, given your…odd…reaction to the last Joining.”
“I know, Duncan. I know, it’s a risk. But you think it’s better to allow Kirkwall to degenerate into chaos, to not prevent all-out war between mages and templars, given the chance? My life isn’t worth all of those who might be saved.”
He sighed. “I thought you told Alistair you don’t have a hero complex.”
I snorted a laugh and hugged him. “It’s not a hero complex. It’s a duty, and you, of all people, can’t blame me for that, right?”
He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Fair enough.”
I checked in on the others in the barracks; Sten was impatient to get done with the politicking so we could get back to trying to kill the Archdemon, Jowan was anxious being in a city so near a very large, well-staffed Chantry, the dwarves were bored and wanted to find something to go kill, though Bel had been working on his voice training when Leli had time, and he barely stuttered at all any more. Anders was asleep, still recovering from the magebane.
Blake was practicing his letters, between running errands for Theron, Duncan, or any of the others. He assured me he was doing well, and that no one had been unkind to him since Theron had taken him on. He'd probably put on ten pounds, since that day in the kitchens at Redcliffe, and he was going to need new clothes soon. I read with him for a while, just enjoying the simple pleasures of reading and watching a keen student learn.
I knew Morrigan had taken to eavesdropping in bird form, but I found Wulf and the other women - Kallian, Solona, Wynne, and Leliana - in the dining room, mostly trying to help Kallian feel at ease, from what I could tell. Wynne had checked her out and declared that Anders had done a good job at healing her, leaving her physically well, at any rate, and everyone just refrained from asking about her mental state.
I sat down with them in the middle of a discussion about what Kallian wanted to do since she was free. She didn’t seem to know, just insisted she could not live in the Alienage anymore, though she did want to go visit her father. Happy to have something to do, we decided we would accompany her there right away. Faren was happy to come, as was Zevran, so we all went to change into armour and meet in the hall. Wulf, Solona, Leliana, Wynne, Zevran, Faren, and I all accompanied Kallian when we left Eamon’s. She seemed less nervous with fewer humans around, and so many women. Wearing armour, a borrowed bow on her back, with a handful of people following her, she seemed almost like what I imagined she’d been before Vaughn - confident, relaxed, competent.
Until we were approached by a guard. I didn't recognise him, but he must have been one of Kylon's, since no one else should have been patrolling the Alienage gates. The poor sergeant hadn't been able to rid his ranks of all the idiots, apparently; this one was probably in his twenties, had tiny, piggy eyes and was significantly overweight. He had a sword at his hip, a heavy, impractical, ceremonial thing that looked like it had never been used, but no helmet and the straps on his armour strained against his bulk.
He held an apple, biting into it noisily and then addressing Kallian with his mouth full, spittle and chunks of apple spraying from his lips. "Oy, you! Knife-ears!"
Kallian tensed, and Wulf took her arm, dragging her halfway behind him. I stepped forward, blocking his line of sight to the fearful elf, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Ser?" I inquired, voice flat but not disrespectful. "May I help you?"
He looked me over, his gaze travelling over my tight-fitting armour with a leer. He tore his gaze from my chest to look back at my face. "I've got no quarrel with you, though I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, sweetheart." Zev stirred behind me, and I waved my hand in a gesture I hoped he'd understand. "But them knife-ears can't just parade around here with weapons. They're goin' to Fort Drakon."
I drew myself up, trying to look as haughty as I could. "I am lady Sierra Cousland, and these are my guards and my lady's maid. You shall not interfere here, guardsman, or I can guarantee your superiors will not be pleased by my complaints."
He looked at Kallian skeptically. "Body guards, I could almost let pass, my Lady, but that's no lady's maid." His tone was a little more respectful, but I still wanted to strangle him with my bare hands.
I took a chance that he was a pervert, in addition to an idiot. "Oh, you know, hired body guards are all fine and dandy, but there's nothing quite like the protection of a well-trained friend with unquestioning loyalty." I winked, and his eyes widened. I could hear Zevran chuckle at my back. “And she is very well trained.”
He looked at her again, apparently unconvinced, and I glanced back to see her standing firm, cheeks flushed, but refusing to back down. I tilted my head, gesturing to her bow, and with a nod she unslung it and nocked an arrow. I turned back, grabbed the apple from his hand, and tossed it into the air, hoping beyond hope that she knew what she was doing with that bow. I probably should have asked her first.
To my relief, she spun and fired so fast I barely registered the movement, and the apple was pierced neatly through the center and pinned to the side of the building an inch from the idiot’s right ear. The shaft vibrated with the force of the shot, and I doubted I’d be strong enough to pry the arrow free.
The guard gasped and jumped away, then turned to glower at the elf. He looked like he might try to make something of it, and I sighed.
I fished through the coin pouch on my belt while I nodded my head at the group behind me. “Look, guardsman, the group you see behind me are all that good.” I nodded at the arrow. “They’re not going to go quietly, and you’re here all alone. And your sergeant owes my family a really big favour. Take this,” I gave him a small handful of coin, “and go buy yourself a new apple. Forget you saw us. And next time you see Sergeant Kylon, ask him about my brother, Aedan Cousland, the Grey Warden. I think you’ll find he agrees that you should walk away.”
Grumbling, shooting dirty looks at me and Kallian both, ser piggy finally turned and walked away, leaving the gate unguarded. I approached Kallian slowly, stopping a few feet away. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Though I’m not sure whether to be flattered or irritated.” She chuckled, and I relaxed, releasing a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. I had been afraid she’d be offended - or traumatised - by my implication that she was a servant in more than just the traditional sense. It was sickening and racist, but it felt at the time like the best way to end the conflict before someone had gotten hurt.
“Definitely flattered.”
“I’m sorry that I cost you-“
“Nothing I wasn’t more-than-willing to pay. I’m just sorry it was necessary. Nice shot, by the way.” I grinned.
“Not that nice - I meant to nick his cheek.”