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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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After supper, Leliana regaled the Wardens and the rest of their companions with a story that would have made even the most hardened sailor blush. Sten seemed less than amused by the tale, while Morrigan appeared completely bored. Solona laughed so hard, she was forced to wipe tears from her eyes. Alistair, on the other hand, was so red in the face he could have acted as a beacon in the dark woods which surrounded them.

By the time everyone was ready to retreat to their respective tents, Alistair was still so embarrassed he considered avoiding Solona completely. Unfortunately, the two Wardens needed to have a serious discussion and, considering they were slated to arrive in Redcliffe before noon the next day, he knew it couldn’t wait. He had to tell her his secret. If he didn’t, Eamon, or worse, Isolde would surely reveal his parentage.

The Warden paced in front of the fire as he awaited Solona’s return from the small pond that lay just beyond the coppice surrounding their campsite. It seemed an eternity passed since the mage and the redheaded rogue departed for their baths. Alistair took that time to mull over the words he would use to tell Solona the truth, but none of them were quite right. He had no idea how to even begin that conversation.

When the two women emerged from the treeline, instead of approaching his fellow Warden as he planned, Alistair stopped in his tracks, his feet frozen in place. He couldn’t do it. How could he?

As she walked past, the light scent of honey and fresh lavender was carried on the hint of a breeze to invade his senses. His heart began to beat faster as he caught a glimpse of her bare body by the firelight that shone through the thin linen shirt she intended to wear as a bed smock. The erection he acquired at the sight made stopping her even more difficult. Somehow, he mustered enough inner strength to grab her arm before she was beyond his reach completely. She turned to face him with a slight scowl.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“I think I’ll just head on to my tent now,” Leliana interrupted before giving Alistair a wink and a knowing grin behind the mage’s back. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

“Very well,” Solona told her.

“Goodnight, Solona,” the redhead bade before giving a tilt of her head to the other woman’s fellow Warden. “Goodnight, Alistair.”

The two Wardens extended their farewells to the rogue before Solona returned her attention to Alistair. The expectant, yet annoyed look in her lapis eyes prompted every thought in his head to leave him entirely. He honestly couldn’t remember what it was he was going to say to her, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“I was wondering,” he began then faltered to rephrase. “How about a game of Confessions?”

Her right brow arced. “Really?” she questioned. “Normally getting you to agree to play is like pulling teeth. Why the sudden interest in playing now?”

He presented her with a sheepish smile and a shrug. “I don’t know,” he lied. “I just thought it was a nice night for it, I suppose. But if you’re not interested…”

Her lids narrowed with suspicion. “Alright,” she agreed. “Just give me a few moment to stow my things and grab a blanket.”

“I’ll be waiting with knobs on,” he told her as he sat down on the fallen log next to the fire.

After several minutes, she finally returned, barefooted with her shoulders wrapped in a heavy wool blanket. She plopped down next to him then turned her head to regard him with a frown. Alistair wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or confused given her expression. Whichever it was, it induced a harsh gulp from his ever-tightening throat. She was obviously waiting for him to start and didn’t plan to speak a word until he did.

Alistair ran his tongue across his lips as he thought of his first question. It had to be something benign. He wasn’t quite ready for the difficult inquiries just yet.

“How old were you when you got your first real kiss?” he asked, hoping it was harmless enough not to illicit any more wariness from his fellow Warden.

She seemed a bit surprised by his query. “Oh,” she exclaimed before regaining her composure. “I don’t know…Eight? Nine?”

“That young?” he questioned with bewilderment.

“Yes,” she replied. “There was tongue involved and everything. And that was two questions, so now I get to ask two.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “Ask away.”

“How old were you when you got your first real kiss?” she asked before quickly adding. “And yes, it had to involve tongue.”

“Fourteen,” he answered.

“And what was the name of the first person you kissed?”

There was no way Alistair was answering that question. He should have known not to start out with that one in the first place. His first kiss was a mistake, and it cost him his only friendship in the monastery. He had to reveal something embarrassing, but nothing quite that shameful. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m a virgin,” he told her, then immediately closed his eyes against the backlash of the teasing he knew he was about to endure.

“Really?” she questioned. After a long pause, she added, “That does explain some things.”

“Explains what?” he wondered aloud.

“I never wear smallclothes except during my moon cycle,” she confessed.

Damn. She caught me again.

Alistair bit his lips to prevent himself from asking the obvious question of Never? If he did, he knew she would answer and then be allowed another question. When the impulse was over, he exhaled a long sigh.

“Was the first person you kissed male or female?” she asked.

Maker, not that.

Alistair’s brow furrowed and his eyes darted back and forth as he searched for something embarrassing to tell her. He drew a complete blank. He couldn’t think of a bloody damned thing. His shoulders drooped in defeat.

“Male,” he mumbled.

He wanted to tell her it meant nothing. That it was just experimental, and there was no real attraction at all. The problem was, if he said either of those things, it would have been a lie. Alistair made a promise back then, when he was fourteen, he would never tell anyone he was sexually attracted to both women and men. In the monastery, such things were frowned upon, and Alistair learned quickly that any deviation from the norm was not taken lightly by the other initiates or the templars. In Orlais, it was more acceptable. In Ferelden, however, it could likely get a man or, in his case a boy, beaten in his sleep. He was just lucky Cullen never told anyone.

Alistair apologized, of course, immediately and profusely. He tried to laugh it off as a joke, telling Cullen he just wanted to see the look on the other boy’s face. His friend didn’t buy it for a second, and Alistair felt he needed some sort of grand gesture to prove he was worthy of being Cullen’s friend. So, to make up for that transgression, Alistair chose to reveal the secret of his birth that he wouldn’t dare tell anyone else.

Unfortunately, it backfired and he lost his best friend anyway. He was never quite certain if Cullen turned his back on him because of the kiss, the secret Cullen perceived as a lie, or a combination of both things. Either way, that evening taught the young initiate a lesson he would never forget-Never reveal anything that personal unless absolutely necessary. Sadly for him, talking about his father to Solona had finally become unavoidable.

To Alistair’s surprise, the mage actually seemed to perk up a bit upon hearing his answer to her last question. As if something in her thoughts was somehow vindicated, but she didn’t tell him what it might be. She took hold of his hand with a genuine smile.

“It’s alright, Alistair,” she told him. “Nothing to be down about. It happened all the time in the tower.” When he gave her a questioning scowl, her grin broadened. “Trust me. It doesn’t bother me in the least.”

“Are you sure?” he asked still waiting for the backlash of his confession.

Solona presented him with a nod. While her expression was one of understanding, her lapis eyes began to glisten in the firelight. Something was definitely wrong, but he was unable to discern what it might have been.

“Of course I’m sure,” she confirmed. “And I won’t even count that as your next question.”

“Thanks,” he whispered with an appreciative smile.

As he stared into Solona’s eyes, Alistair realized he no longer wanted to play the game. She refused to shun him for what he considered was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Perhaps they were finally close enough for him to tell her about who he really was without feeling the weight of her scorn.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. “I should have told you a long time ago, but I guess I was afraid of what you would say. I was afraid you might look at me differently. It’s something that never meant anything to me, but it has haunted me my entire life.”

She kept hold of his hand as she shifted her body closer to his. “What is it, Alistair?”

“You asked me before if Eamon was my father,” he continued. He licked his lips. “He’s not, but there was a reason he took me in. You see, my father…was King Maric Theirin.”

For several moments, Solona could do nothing more than stare at the man sitting next to her. She was completely frozen in place and in time. Her heart was still reeling from the confirmation that the man she had fallen in love with preferred the company of other men. Now, he was telling her that he was a prince. No. The future king of bloody Ferelden. If he were going to be king, it could mean only one thing for their future. He would take the throne and she would be forced from his life forever. She had read enough on governance and politics to know it could go no other way. She was going to lose him, just as she had lost everyone else in her life who ever meant anything to her.

She sucked in a quick breath to prevent the flood of tears that threatened to fall and quickly let go of his hand as her indignation began to rise. Her chest rose and fell with every heavy, labored breath. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to get so close to him, to fall so deeply. If she had known. If he had told her, she would have kept a better guard around her heart. It was difficult enough to know he would never truly be able to love her back, not in the way she wanted, but to lose his friendship too? It was more than she could bear.

Solona stood, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders. She had to get away from him before he saw how badly his words stung her, how furious and morose she really was. She couldn’t let him know how thoroughly he had just shattered her already broken heart. He could never know.

She felt his hand grip her wrist as she attempted to walk away. “Solona, please. For the Maker’s sake, please don’t go.”

For a long moment, she simply stood there, facing away from him, attempting to regain her composure. She wanted to scream at him, to pommel him until his outsides were as crippled and fragmented as her soul, but she couldn’t. No matter how badly she wanted to hurt him, she still loved him. Instead, she jerked her arm from his grasp, and slowly walked to her tent.

Never again. This is the last time you allow anyone close enough to break your fool heart.

After Miriana passed out on deck following the attack, Garrett rushed to check on her. Her skin was as white as newly fallen snow and felt like ice to the touch. He feared her dead, but when he placed his ear against the left side of her chest, he found her heart still beating strong. After trying everything he could think of to wake her to no avail, he scooped her into his arms and took her to his cabin where he lay her gently down on his bed and covered her with three thick blankets.

For the rest of the afternoon and throughout the night, the captain remained in a chair at her side, clutching her hand. She never stirred, not once, but he was consoled by the fact that the blue and grey hues of death never colored her delicate skin. She had saved the Call and most of her crew, and Garrett would not allow her to wake alone after such a feat. He didn’t know how she managed it, and he didn’t care. He just knew that he and his men were alive, and it was because of her.

At first, Garrett worried the events of the day would finally push his crew to mutiny. Instead, the men surprised him when nearly all had come by at various points to check to see if their heroine had recovered. Each and every crewman who visited, requested that the captain give Miriana their thanks and to let them know when she awakened. If any had qualms about having the young mage aboard before, their fears and trepidation had all been allayed.

When the first rays of the morning sun came shimmering through the window at the head of the bed, Garrett’s eyes began to grow heavy. Several times, he was forced to jerk himself awake, but after a while, his body finally started to give way to its need for sleep. As he lay his head upon the mattress next to Miriana’s leg, he felt her fingers twitch against his. He looked up in time to see her chest swell with a sharp gasp, followed by her lids parting to reveal the most beautiful pair of blue eyes the captain had ever seen.

Miriana had no idea how long she had wandered around in the darkness before she found herself back in the peaceful meadow within the Fade. But where everything was always a bit blurry and surreal in the past, it had become more vibrant, more substantial to her. A large part of her wanted to stay in that sunny field forever, but after a time, Faith finally urged her to rise and make her way to a small cabin that lay on the edge of a nearby forest. The moment she walked through the door, her eyes opened to the sight of Garrett’s cabin.

When the mage felt warm, calloused fingers squeeze her own, she gazed down the bed to lock eyes with the captain’s. The smile he wore was one of both relief and gratitude, but what he was thankful for, she could not guess. He kissed her knuckles before taking a seat on the bed beside her.

“Finally decided to rejoin the living, eh love?” he asked. “I must admit, you had me a bit worried there for a moment.”

Miriana could have sworn she recognized tears swimming in his crystal green-blue eyes. The effect was more mesmerizing than ever before, but, for once, she didn’t shy away from his gaze. She simply returned his gesture with a smile of her own and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine, Garrett,” she told him. “But I could use some tea…If you don’t mind.”

He patted the back of her hand. “Of course not, love. Just give me a moment to fetch one of the crew. I need to let them know you’re awake, anyway. Martinez might skin me alive otherwise.”

“What do you mean?” she queried.

Why would the crew care if I was awake?

“Well,” he explained. “Nearly every man on the crew has come by asking how you fare. Ramirez has stopped in twice, and I swear Martinez has dropped by every half hour.”

“Why?” she voiced the question foremost on her mind.

His lids narrowed and his face screwed up as he feigned deep concentration. “Well, let’s see,” he replied. “It could be because you’re the most beautiful woman who ever graced the seas.” He paused long enough to flash a rakish smirk. “Or perhaps it’s because you saved our lives, love.” He chuckled. “I honestly think the crew likes you more than myself now. If I’m not careful, they’re going to be calling you captain before this run is through.”

Miriana had to laugh at that notion. The only thing she knew about ships was what she read in storybooks. Reality was far different than those tales. She knew he was teasing, but she seriously began to wonder what life on a pirate ship might be like.

After a promise to return in short measure, Garrett left his quarters to talk to his men, leaving Miriana time to think on what had occurred. She was possessed. She could feel the spirit of Faith inside her. After everything she was taught by Wenda about demons and possession, she thought it would feel darker somehow. Instead, there was light, warmth and a sense of fearlessness she had never before known.

She realized the change when she spoke to Garrett. For the first time since she met him, Miriana didn’t feel nervous in his presence. She didn’t worry about sounding stupid or silly to him. She was completely relaxed. It had to be Faith’s doing, somehow.

I do like him, Miriana.

The voice was loud inside her head. Too loud. It seemed to echo throughout her skull and send a shock across her nerves. That was when it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was an abomination. She invited a spirit in to share her body and her mind. How would she ever be able to return to the Circle?

She wondered if there was a way to be rid of the curse she had placed on herself. Would the templars know right away? Would they kill her on sight? Perhaps, since she wasn’t possessed by a demon per se, she could get away with it. Maybe she would even be able to find a tome, or some ancient spell to reverse what she had done.

As the door to the cabin opened and Garrett stepped inside, Miriana realized the saddest of truths. No matter how much she cared for him, she had to return to the Circle. It was more important now than ever. She had never known anything to be written or researched about possession by a virtuous spirit of the Fade. It was possible that Faith would remain as she had always been, a companion, a friend, but there was always a chance things would end badly. It was very possible she posed a danger to Garrett and everyone else around her.

That knowledge only left one path open to her, she had to continue on to Kinloch and research the tower’s libraries. Only when she found the answers she needed would she be truly free to give her heart to anyone. Unfortunately, by the time she discovered the truth, Garrett would be gone, and it would be far too late.

I swear for two people so much in love Alistair and Solona acted like they didn’t know one another at all sometimes. I don’t know if it was because they had no real experience with relationships or the fact that both of them felt unlovable, but they seemed to expect the worst from each other. Looking back, I can’t help but chuckle to myself thinking about all the times their lives would have been so much easier if they would just have been honest about how they felt.

Although it took Alistair some time to forgive Cullen for what happened while they were templar initiates at the monastery, I couldn’t really hold it against him. When the situation occurred, Cullen was only thirteen and had only been in training for a few months. Given that the boy was a bit sheltered and unaccustomed to such things, his initial reaction was natural. I wouldn’t say I condone his behavior, but I find it understandable given the circumstances, and he did apologize to Alistair for it later on.

My crew had never been fond of having a woman aboard, and, at first, Miri was no exception. After what she did for us, however, they would have followed any command she gave them. I even began to wonder if she was going to have to refuse marriage proposals before the end. From that day on, Miri was always well loved by the crew and they couldn’t have respected her more. Half of them treated her like a little sister, and the other half acted like she was my wife which made them take her requests as seriously as they did my own. At one point I worried that Martinez might take exception to the way the crew treated Miri until I realized he was one of the biggest offenders.

-G
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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight