Fic: Teagan's Chance: News

[signcherie]

Title: Teagan’s Chance: News
Author: SignCherie
Rating: E
Pairing: Teagan/f!Mahariel
Summary: Teagan and River Mahariel have fallen in love. Where does that leave Alistair?

x-posted to swooping_is_bad

This chapter, like others, can stand alone, but if you're interested, previous chapters are here.

When Alistair emerged from his royal quarters in the morning and saw River waiting for him in the corridor, he tried to turn around and go right back in.

Unfortunately for him, River grabbed his arm before he could escape. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I can try,” he said hopefully.

River smacked him lightly on the arm.

“Careful,” Alistair said. “You can’t just hit a king like that. That’s treason, you know. I could have you thrown in the dungeons.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded somberly. “Executed, even.”

“I’ll take my chances,” River replied dryly. “If I was in the dungeons--or dead--you’d actually have to do all this work by yourself.”

Alistair made a face. “You make a good point.” He heaved a sigh. “All right, then, give it to me. What cursed thing would you have me do now? Some mind-numbingly boring meeting with the Bannorn? More diplomatic relations with Orlesian representatives?”

“What makes you think it’s anything like that?”

“It’s what you’re always after these days. There’s always some kingly duty or other you’re trying to drag out of me.”

River shrugged. “Why can’t I just want to see my friend? It’s not like I get to do that much anymore.”

Instantly Alistair felt guilty. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He cocked his head toward the end of the hall, and River nodded. Together, they began walking. “Maker, sometimes I miss the old days. Darkspawn lurking around every corner, abominations, werewolves, angry dwarf royals--those were the days.”

“You can still deal with the dwarf royals.”

Alistair groaned. “Yes, but back then, you had to deal with them.”

“Well--I still do.”

“True.” He brightened a little.

“No, I know what you mean,” River said. “It was simpler back then. See bad guy. Hit it with sword. Mostly.”

“Mostly. As I recall, that wasn’t exactly how you chose to deal with the dwarf royals.”

“No, but I thought about it.”

Alistair snorted.

“Well, mostly it was simpler,” River clarified. “We fought together. We travelled together. If we wanted to talk, we talked. If we didn’t want to talk--we usually talked anyway.”

Alistair laughed. “No palaces, no politics,” he agreed. “Not between us, anyway.” Inwardly, he added, No Anora, no Teagan....

He stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. River’s long hair was pulled back, the way she always used to wear it when they travelled, emphasizing her delicate facial tattoos and pointed ears. She wore an embroidered silk shirt and trousers. At the moment, River looked strongly Dalish, and Alistair was momentarily transported back to the first time he saw her. He had thought, then, that she looked exotic and a little savage. Now that he’d known her so long, fought with her and laughed with her, he thought that “exotic and a little savage” was a perfectly apt description.

“Things may not be as easy as they were back then,” River said, “but you’re still my best friend, lethallin. I still need you. I don’t want you to forget that.”

Alistair swallowed around a lump that seemed to have grown in his throat. “Is this the sappy, happy portion of our day, then?” he said, trying to make light of it. “Shall we make daisy wreaths and dance in a circle?”

River rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I should have known better than to try to be serious with you,” she teased.

Alistair stopped walking and took River’s hand. She looked up with wide eyes.

“I need you, too,” Alistair said gruffly. “Maybe more than ever. Lethallan.”

River squeezed his hand. Then she threw her arms around him in one of her trademark bear hugs.

Inconspicuously, Alistair sniffed her hair. How did the woman always manage to smell like lilacs?

“Actually,” River said, releasing him, “I haven’t been completely honest with you. I do have a favor to ask of you.”

“I knew it!” exclaimed Alistair. “What is it this time? Antivan ambassadors? Squabbles between nobles? Or a giant stack of paperwork that needs signatures?”

She shook her head. “This is something for me.”

Alistair’s eyebrows shot up. “A personal favor? This should be good. I can’t remember the last time you asked for something for yourself.” He didn’t think she ever had, now that he thought about it.

“I want you to give me away.”

At first, Alistair had no idea what she was talking about. She wanted to go and be Chancellor for the Orlesians? Then reality hit him.

He stopped walking.

“You’re getting married,” he said.

River beamed, oblivious to Alistair’s shock. “He asked me,” she said. “Can you believe it? Me, bonded. To a shem nobleman, no less.”

I can believe it, Alistair thought. Teagan’s no fool. He’ll tie her to him whatever way he can. It’s what I would do.

Something awful occurred to him.

“Will you move to Rainesfere?” he asked weakly.

She shook her head. “No. We’ve talked about it. I’m going to stay on here. We’ll take turns visiting each other as often as we can.” She grinned. “I told him I had a flexible boss.”

Relief flooded him.

Followed by guilt.

She was staying because of Alistair. Because he needed her help. Long distance relationships were hard enough, but a long distance marriage? Perhaps such a thing might suit some people--himself and Anora, for example--but not a woman as warm and open as River.

And suppose they had a child one day. Granted, it was unlikely, but not outside the realm of possibility. Would she leave her child behind at Rainesfere while she served Alistair at the palace? How could Alistair, as her friend, allow such a thing?

On top of that, there was Teagan, whom Alistair also cared about a great deal. It was clear to anyone with eyes that Teagan was completely besotted with River. It would be devastating for him to live so far from the wife he adored.

No, Alistair realized with dismay, this was not a sacrifice he could allow them to make.

“River,” Alistair said.

River did a double take. “What in the name of the Creators is the matter, Alistair? You’ve gone completely white.”

Alistair frowned. “Nothing. I mean--” He took a deep breath. “Look. I can’t let you do this.”

River raised an eyebrow. “You can’t let me get married?”

“Yes. I mean no, not that. I can’t let you do--the rest of it.”

“Alistair--I hate to break it to you, but we’ve already done ‘the rest of it.’”

Once again, it took Alistair a second to understand. Then he covered his face with his hands.

“Maker’s breath, woman. Don’t you think you could keep some details to yourself?”

River looked confused. “Is that not what you’re talking about?”

“No. No.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alistair, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The whole...living apart thing. You know. You, staying here, being my Chancellor, and him, staying there, being Bann of Rainesfere. I can’t let you do that.”

River began to speak, but Alistair waved a hand.

“No, let me say this. You know how much I’ve relied on you, but this...this is more than I can ask of you. You’re my friend. I can’t let you make that sacrifice. Not for me. I’ll find a way to do this myself. You deserve as much.”

River studied Alistair’s face. Then she laughed.

“Something’s funny?”

“No. I’m sorry.” River grew serious. “You’re very generous, Alistair. But I have a few things to say now.”

Alistair opened his mouth, then closed it.

“First of all, you are doing this yourself.”

Alistair chuckled. River frowned at him.

“Oh. You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. I may be there to act as a buffer for some things, to keep you from having to deal with too much at once, but you’re the one making the hard decisions. You’re the one doing the job. I’m just a...glorified secretary.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“No, you don’t give yourself enough. You never have. But that’s beside the point. It’s very nice of you to give me a chance to get out of this job, but I’m not going anywhere. I chose this, you know. I asked you for this position.”

“Of course. But--”

“I love my job, Alistair. I make a difference here. Besides, you’ve already forgotten what I just told you.”

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

River took his hand. “I still need you.”

That’s not fair, Alistair thought. Not at all fair. How am I going to get over you when you say things like that?

“But, staying on here--what about Teagan?”

She smiled slightly. “I love him. Very much. But this is where I belong, and I’m not going to change who I am to be with him.”

Alistair scrutinized her face. She was wearing her solemn “I mean it” expression. The one that made her eyes go all big and serious and made her look all adorable. His lips quirked. His adorable little savage Dalish warrior.

She would beat him up if she knew what he was thinking. But, Maker, that expression made his heart ache.

“He makes you happy,” Alistair murmured. “I can tell. You smile more since you started seeing him.”

“He’s a good man,” River said simply. “I’m very lucky. Honestly, I don’t know what he sees in a worn-out soldier like me.”

He hated it when she put herself down. It made him want to grab her and tell her exactly what Teagan--and every other right-thinking man--saw in her; how beautiful and sweet and kind and unselfish and loving she was. How it was Teagan who should be thanking his lucky stars and praying to the Maker to make him worthy of her. How Alistair would give anything to be in Teagan’s shoes.

He could tell her. He could tell her everything. The words were on his lips.

She looked at him, completely oblivious to his internal struggle.

He couldn’t do it.

“This is what you want?” Alistair asked instead.

“It’s everything I want.”

Alistair let out a breath. “Then I guess I can’t argue.”

So she would get married. But at least she would stay. He knew it was terribly selfish of him, but he was so grateful that he didn’t have to let her go completely.

Yet.

River punched him lightly on the arm, again, making him jump. “Ow! What is it now?”

“You never answered my question.”

Alistair racked his brain, trying to remember whatever it was he had forgotten.

“The wedding, Alistair. Will you give me away?”

“Oh! That.”

“You humans have unusual traditions. But Anora explained this role to me, and I think it should be you. Outside of Teagan, you’re the most important person to me in the world.”

Alistair sighed. Outside of Teagan. He wanted them to be happy. Really, he did. But he couldn’t help wondering how he ever let this happen.

“Of course I’ll give you away. You know I can’t refuse you anything,” he said honestly.

Again, River threw her arms around him. “Thank you, lethallin,” she said.

This time, Alistair hugged her tight against his chest, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Congratulations,” he whispered.

Alistair lay on his bed, staring up at the ornately decorated ceiling. As soon as River had gone, Alistair had headed straight back to his quarters. He knew it was irresponsible, that he had important Things To Do, but at the moment he just didn’t care.

He should be thinking about River getting married, but it was like his brain had just turned itself off. At the moment, the only thought passing through his head was to wonder whose idea it had been to paint scenes from the Chant of Light on the royal ceiling. Then he wondered if Anora stared at those scenes when she...joined him. Oh, look, there’s Maferath about to betray Andraste. Ugh.

It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Anora. She was perfectly polite to him, and they worked well together in the business of governing. It was just that...she was cold. Alistair knew that when she looked at him, she didn’t see a man. She saw the reason her father was dead.

And if he was honest, when he looked at her, he saw Loghain’s daughter. A woman who idolized the man that had taken everything Alistair had.

He would have liked it to be different, but he wasn’t a fool. The highest emotion he and Anora would ever feel for each other was...respect.

Was it wrong for him to wish for more? Maker’s breath, he wanted to feel. He wanted to know passion, and fire, and love. He wanted to know what it felt like to have a woman look at him with longing in her eyes, and know that that longing was for him.

He wanted someone to want him. He wanted someone to love him.

The worst of it was, he really believed River could have been that woman. If he had told her about his feelings, back when they were both single, he was sure she would have given him a chance. She obviously cared about him a great deal. If he had told her, back then, surely that affection could have turned into something more. They could have had a love that would rival legends.

Ah, there it was. He knew his thoughts would get around to River eventually.

The sound of a door swinging open startled Alistair out of his rumination. He sat up on the bed.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

It was a servant girl, an elf. Alistair was sure he’d seen her before.

“I didn’t know you were here, Your Majesty. I will come back later.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He didn’t mean for it to sound harsh, but the words came out louder than he meant them to. The girl stopped in her tracks.

He sighed. “Just...don’t call me Your Majesty, okay? I’m not majestic. I’m just me. Just plain old me.”

The girl looked at him with wide eyes.

“Wait,” Alistair said. “I know you. You’re Brigid. I met you the night of the coronation ball.”

The girl fell into a curtsey.

“Don’t do that,” groaned Alistair. “Please. I’m really, really not in the mood for it.”

She straightened, watching Alistair with cautious eyes. “My apologies, Y--ser.”

“Tell me something, Brigid. Have you ever gotten news that toppled your entire world?”

Brigid spoke in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “You heard about the Warden’s marriage.”

Alistair started. “Does everyone know how I feel about her, then?”

She shook her head. “Just me, I think. I saw you that night...you know. Outside the kitchens.”

Alistair exhaled angrily and looked back up at the ceiling. “Did you ever wish, Brigid, that you could be someone else?”

Brigid nodded. “Yes, ser,” she said quietly, her eyes on the floor. “All the time.”

“Alistair,” he said. “Not ser. Call me Alistair.”

She looked up at him and met his eyes. Something she saw there must have given her courage, because she suddenly gathered her nerve. She turned from him and shut the door to his quarters.

Alistair blinked.

Brigid crossed the room to Alistair’s closet and opened it. She began to rummage through his clothes.

“Andraste’s eyes,” she muttered. “Don’t you have anything simple?”

“I doubt it,” Alistair said, baffled. “Anora arranged for my wardrobe.”

She removed a simple cloak from the closet. “This will have to do,” she said, tossing it to a surprised Alistair. “You can put it on over.”

“Do...for what?”

“We’re escaping. For today. Two people who don’t want to be who they are. Just for today, we won’t be.”

He looked at the cloak, and then up at her. It struck him, at that moment, how pretty Brigid was. Her eyes were big and brown and had thick black lashes. She was looking at him, too, and a small smile quirked her lips.

Something in her gaze made Alistair shiver. Suddenly he realized what it was.

She was looking at him with longing in her eyes.

Alistair put on the cloak.

“Do you know a secret tunnel out of the palace, then? Because if you do, we really need to beef up security around here.”

She shook her head. “No, ser. We’re going out the servants entrance.”

“Ah,” he said. “Lead the way then, Brigid.”

She smiled, her shyness returned, and headed for the door, gesturing for him to follow.

Alistair, for his part, felt more hopeful than he had in a long time.