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A Pound of My Flesh	By : Spydie Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4636 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon age and make no money from this fan work.

Chapter List
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AN: Weeeeeee. This chapter was a bitch to write, just saying.
Chapter 3: Crossed
Allana stared at the pile of things left by him. She couldn't bear to toss them, but they could not bring it all with them. She started sorting through his things. A bag full of food, mostly cheese, was placed in with the party's inventory. There were two pairs of well-worn wool socks, dotted with small holes, that she decided to ditch. His plainclothes were threadbare, and after taking a moment to inhale the scent of cedar and soap, his smell, she decided to toss them as well.
She had taken the Joining chalice to Riordan after the Landsmeet to prepare for Loghain's joining. Today, they would venture outside of Denirim to hunt for Darkspawn and gather the blood. As Junior Warden, Allana was to accompany him. Her own Joining felt like a lifetime ago.
The elven warden held the statues in a bundle in her arms. It was heartbreaking to let them go. She knew of no use for them, but she couldn't forget the excitement he had shown when she gifted them to him. She slipped them into her bag, taking up the little space she had left. The bag barely buckled, but she needed something of his. If she was able, she wouldn't let any of it go - even the holy socks. She was desperate to hold on to him, couldn't bear to let him leave her mind.
She found a curious small pouch within his bag containing a wooden box. She had never seen him with this, he must have gotten it recently. When she opened the box, she couldn't hold back the tears. In the center, buried in soft black velvet padding, was a thin silver band with an emerald stone. She held it in her hands for several minutes before tucking it into her bag. She couldn't wear it, though she knew it was meant for her.
One day, she wanted to look for him. If she survived, her focus would be him. Perhaps then he will have forgiven her.
But duty came first.
...
"He's coming to," a voice muttered as Alistair struggled to sit up. The rhythmic shaking of the wagon made him feel ill and he clutched his stomach. Opening his eyes, he noticed the faces surrounding him. The men were armored, but their armor had seen better days.
"Are you alright?" A young man asked, helping him to sit up. Alistair's armor had been removed and he could feel the man's hand on his back helping to steady him. Alistair groaned, but allowed the elf to help him. Once sure that Alistair was in a sitting position, the man handed him a waterskin. The warden eyed him before taking a long swig to ease his thirst. The man patted him on the shoulder and pulled a roll from his bag to hand to Alistair. He ate it with no hesitation, but could not find his voice to offer the travelers thanks.
"Were you robbed? It is unfortunate that you are ill prepared for traveling, though it is apparent by your armor and sword that you have seen much," the man said to him. The others in the group were silent, staring at Alistair expectantly.
"Something like that. . . " Alistair muttered. Robbed of a crown. Robbed of my dignity. Robbed of my heart, he thought.
"Where were you headed? We found you days from any town or village," the man asked. "We are headed south to Denirim, currently. Then west to Redcliffe."
Alistair groaned at the thought of heading back. He remained silent, taking another pull from the waterskin. The men eyed him curiously. After a moment, the man spoke again, "We are assisting the towns with the fight against Darkspawn. Or bandits. Whatever offers a bit of coin, really. You are welcome to travel with us. I recommend at least staying until we reach Denirim to restock before continuing your journey."
"How far 'till Denirim?" Alistair asked, holding his throbbing head and taking another drink from the waterskin.
"A few hours. Should be there by sundown," the man replied. After a moment, he continued, "The name is Alan. The two others are Brock and Henry. Leading the wagon is Rich," he said with a nod to the other men.
"I'm uh. . . Duncan," the warden replied, unsure if the group had known about the happenings at the Landsmeet.
"Well, Duncan, welcome to the group," Alan said with a chuckle.
...
"I passed your test. Fate has a twisted sense of humor it seems," Loghain said with a smirk. Allana stood with the man just outside the walls of Denirim, leaning casually against the bricks. "I suppose you think I'm some sort of monster. More so since I survived your ritual; you keep striking at me, and I just refuse to die decently."
"I don't think you're a monster," Allana said quietly. I'm the monster, she thought.
"You're a poor liar, you know. It's kind of you to say so, all the same. We must settle things between us somehow or another or neither of us will get any work done. So what will it be?" Loghain asked.
Allana looked at him for a moment. "We're going to have to work together."
"Is that punishment meant for me or for you?" he replied with a chuckle. "Just like that, we're allies? I can't imagine it's so simple. I don't know what concession you want from me, Warden. I expect my word will not satisfy you."
"As Riordan said, if you desert us, the Darkspawn will find you. Our taint is like a beacon. You're a Grey Warden now. Nothing can change that," she said, thinking only of Alistair.
"I think it's time we got to the point here. What do you want from me?" the former general questioned. "I can't imagine you spared my life in the Landsmeet by accident. You have some plan in mind?"
Allana remained silent for a few moments before speaking quietly, "I intended for you to have a purpose. . .with Alistair gone. . . It doesn't matter now."
"A purpose? And aiding you in the fight against Darkspawn is no purpose?"
Allana watched as a small wagon entered the city gates, not wanting to look at the newest Warden. She gave a sigh. "Did you ever wonder why it needs to be a Grey Warden that defeats the Archdemon?" she asked.
"I never gave it much thought, I suppose."
"It is all I think about," Allana admitted. "With so few of us in Ferelden, and it must be one of us that does the deed."
"How few is there?"
"After the defeat at Ostagar, all that remained was Alistair and myself. Now, with you and Riordan, it makes a total of four," she said with a sigh. "And now with Alistair gone, it is just the three of us. And Riordan. . . I believe his Calling is nearly upon him."
"Calling?"
Allana paused for a moment. "After surviving your joining, Wardens have only about thirty or so years before the taint begins to consume them. It is customary that when Wardens feel that time is upon them, they venture to the Deep Roads to kill as many Darkspawn as they can before the taint. . . kills you. That is the Calling."
"Oh, being a Grey Warden just gets better and better. I suppose I should be grateful; I am still alive, after all."
"The best part is the nightmares. Dreaming of the Archdemon every night is absolutely wonderful. I haven't had a full night's sleep in nearly three months. And the constant hunger is quite magnificent as well. Got to love those perks!" Allana said with a laugh. It was an automatic response to reply with humor. His humor, she thought.
"Oh my. This will be quite the fitting punishment."
...
Night had fallen when the group's wagon entered the gates of Denirim. All was still and quiet but for two figures standing a distance from the gates. The gates opened and Alistair placed a helm upon his head.
The group was able to find accommodations at The Pearl, amongst comforts of other things. Alan told him that they would scout for work in the morning, insisted that they enjoy themselves for now. Alistair found no comfort here, and decided to go for a walk.
He made his way through they alleyways, not wanting to be recognized. Curiously, a small group of seedy-looking men gathered around a trash-heap, pulling through clothing and-
His woolen socks. His worn bedroll and tent. He shoved the group of men out of the way and drew his sword; the men scattered. He sheathed his blade before looking through what was left of his things. He was able to find a usable waterskin, but many of the items had already been picked over. He was sparked with anger when he realized his valuables - gifts given to him, trinkets he had saved. He roared before marching back to the Pearl, seething with anger.
The ring was gone. It was meant for her and she just tossed it out, along with everything else he had owned, to be sorted through and pawned by the scum of Denirim.
Allana had hurt him, but Alistair wanted her to feel pain as well.
AN: UGH THIS CHAPTER. I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING BUT THE ROADS DO NOT COMPUTE. Anyways, reviews would be lovely.
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A Pound of My Flesh