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In good times and in bad	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 14749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction

Chapter List
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@Brad: Thanks a lot for your awesome review. I always feel so astonished and bouncingly happy when ppl tell me, they like this story. I do hope you keep enjoy reading. Updates usually take no more than two weeks - and if this story doesn't get finished, I'm probably dead (which hopefully won't happen, right? ;)
Chapter 65
When Warden's Peak appears in sight, we all stop and gawk stupidly. The fortress doesn't look half as dilapidated as when we first came here. Walls have been rebuilt, roofs repaired; there's actually windows... and a whole village of huts and small houses clinging to the side of the mountain outside the fortress. And there's people. A whole lot of them. And most of them are elves. Above all that, high on the towers, there's a banner I've never seen before. On one side it bears the colours of the Theirin family as well as the Theirin mabari, on the other side of the crest there's the Grey Warden's colours with the silver griffon facing the mabari, all that is bracketed by the Cousland laurel wreath.
Oh blast!
"Oh, someone's been creative," Leliana observes. "They don't have much taste but their work certainly transports a message. The Grey Wardens, the last of the Theirins and the last of the Couslands working together to claim the throne of Ferelden and save the kingdom from a tyrant, the archdemon and the darkspawn. All that connected to Warden's Peak - am I the only one to find this rather ironic?"
Oh blast!
"Avernus must feel like it's history repeating," Zevran adds cheerfully.
"Let's just hope he doesn't get strange ideas about a demon army," Wynne mutters gloomily. "Really, Rori, my dear, why did you have to allow him to stay here and go on with his studies?"
Rori doesn't listen. She's too busy taking in the change and digesting the sight of the new banner. "Levi! Gilmore!" Rori cries when the two of them approach to welcome us. "What... what is that? Where have all the people come from? What are they doing here?"
"The bastard prince has gained quite a reputation," Gilmore explains after properly bowing to Rori and me. He has recovered from his injuries by now, looking far better than the last time we saw him. Even his leg isn't as stiff anymore. "News from the Circle and from Orzammar has spread..." The way Levi grins, he and his travelling family have done their best to spread as many news as possible all across the kingdom. "A lot of elves from Highever have arrived, too, next to the refugees from the south. There have been riots after Teyrn Cousland's death and Howe has put down the rebellion violently. Burnt down the alienage, that's what he did."
"That two-faced bastard!" Rori hisses, angrily wiping her tears away. It has to be tough for her to learn her hometown and her people have suffered and she couldn't do anything about it. "But... that banner... Gilmore! We cannot use that!"
The knight shrugs. "We didn't start the fire. That was you and the prince. You've made quite an impression. The tales they tell about you, if only half of them are true, you all are already a legend. These people believe in you and that is a strong motivation. I couldn't stop that anymore even if I wanted. I doubt even you could stop it."
"Oh Maker!" I groan. I never wanted this to happen. It's too big for me, more than I can handle and yet I am supposed to get everything done and make it right.
I need a drink.
I'd even take a sip of Oghren's flask although Zevran suspects it's dwarf piss - literally.
Our arrival hasn't gone unnoticed and people begin to gather around us. I find myself being pushed forward and everybody seems to expect me to do something great, some trick as if I was a trained animal going to jump through a loop - one that is on fire. People bow, they fall down to their knees, mutter my name as if it was an incantation, outstretched hands brush against my armour... and I keep muttering: "No, please, stand... that's not... really, get up again... there's no need to..."
This is creepy... creeeeepy...
I feel so lost and overwhelmed, weighed down by the expectations they have in me, I can hardly talk at all. How I get onto that huge box that serves as a makeshift dais, I don't remember. I stare at the crowd in horror; they stare back at me in awe. I am fucked...
"Err..." I begin, sounding like a complete retard. "You're expecting a speech now, aren't you? Oh blast..."
People start chuckling.
"You do realize that princes usually got scribes that write such speeches for them, don't you? And here I am without a scribe to save me from making a complete fool of myself. All I’ve got is my dear fellow Warden telling me to say something motivating and kingly... instead I am babbling a lot of nonsense, right?" I begin to sweat and grin stupidly, my brain is trying to catch up with my tongue but it is faster and ignoring the one and only conscious thought I still have: Shut up! I don't, though. I keep babbling, feeling as if some maniac babbling demon has possessed my body. "You have achieved much here at Warden's Peak and you can be proud of that. There's still a long way to go but if we have faith in the Maker and in our strength of endurance, in the stubbornness and doggedness of the Fereldan people, then we can succeed..."
"That's what we do. And what do you do?" someone calls from the crowd. That probably never happens to a real king. At least not when facing a crowd of farmers and craftsmen. In the Landsmeet, well, that's a different story...
"Me? Do something? Like... ´for real? Looking pretty with a crown on my head and holding foolish speeches is not enough?" I exclaim, eyes wide with shocked surprise. My audience laughs. I guess, I am at the safe side as long as they do not start throwing foul eggs and tomatoes. "Blast, someone should have told me, becoming king actually is hard work," I mutter. More laughter. Out of the corner of my eyes I can see Sten hiding his face in his hands and shake his head. Morrigan is rolling her eyes. Leliana is dragging Rori towards my makeshift stage, probably to have her make the best of my bad job.
"Before anybody ever got the idea I could possibly become king, I became a Grey Warden," I say calmly, solemnly. "And that's what I am first place: I am a Grey Warden. And Grey Wardens do whatever is necessary to stop the darkspawn. In Peace, Vigilance. In War, Victory. In Death, Sacrifice. That is the Grey Warden's motto. I will end this Blight or die trying. That is what I do."
There's a moment of stunned silence. And then there's cheering and people shouting my name and praising the Grey Wardens. It's insane. I have no idea what happened. I haven't said anything über-smart, have I? Certainly not.
"You believed in what you said," Rori explains when I ask her a short time later. My knees are still wobbly and I feel like floating five feet beside my own body. "They heard, saw and felt you were honest and true to your cause."
"Was I... kingly?"
"First... no," Rori admits.
I groan.
"But you were cute," she tries to comfort me.
I groan even louder.
"Then, when you talked about the Wardens... yes, you were very kingly then." Rori beams proudly at me. "And sexy," she adds in a purred whisper. The sound of her voice sends a tingling down my spine.
"I hate that," I complain sullenly. "I am no good at holding speeches. I am no good at being kingly. I do not know how to be kingly. It all happens by mere accident!"
"You are doing fine, Alistair," Leliana assures me. "You haven't been raised to become the leader of a nation. But that is part of your charm. They love you because you are one of them and yet you are special. They believe you will recognize their worries and sorrows and are more likely to make their lives better than some stuck up noble that’s never left their castle."
And that's good? I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything at all. Eamon and his bloody blasted plan! Loghain and his damn treachery! Cailan, that stubborn idiot, and his insistence on fighting right at the centre of the battle next to a handful of Grey Wardens! What in the name of the Maker did he think he was doing? Did he think at all? At least the people of Ferelden are used to a moron running their country. That's comforting... Oh Maker, I am so fucked!
Avernus is high up in his tower and is completely unaware of what is taking place in the rest of the keep.
"He's too old and weak to actually climb the stairs," Gilmore says as he leads the way. Rori pointed out he didn't have to make the effort but he insisted. I cannot get rid of the impression, him carrying Solona's luggage, is quite a giveaway of his true intentions. He has been gawking at the young, dark-haired beauty ever since she was introduced to him. I certainly won't complain. It keeps him from gawking at Rori instead or paying too much attention of what she and I do. "How old is he? And why doesn't he eat anything? What does he live off?"
"Avernus has done a whole lot of very wicked and evil things. I doubt he recalls what really turned him into whatever he is," Rori muses. "Or he doesn't want to tell me."
"Could he be... a demon?" Jowan croaks, clearly terrified by the possibility. "Maybe he's possessed by one?"
I shake my head. "We made sure of that. As sure as one can be. There was a demon here in the keep, possessing the former commander's body. Avernus was keeping her locked in. Be careful anyway. The veil is thin here. It got repaired but still, this is a dangerous place."
Jowan has turned a whiter shade of pale. "I... I am not sure... maybe you should have left me at the tower. Maybe making me tranquil or killing me would have been a better choice... I do not want to hurt anybody anymore..."
"Then pull yourself together and make sure it doesn't happen," Rori snaps. She's fed up with Jowan's whining. He's been constantly wailing ever since we picked him up at Kinloch Hold. "This is your very last chance. If I wasn't sure you deserved it, you wouldn't be here. No! Don't thank me! You and Solona are here because you are needed. There's no turning back now, understand?"
Gilmore reluctantly leaves before we enter Avernus' laboratory. He'd rather come with us, but this is Grey Warden's business. Thus the reason we throw the nosy golem out as well once she has put down the darkspawn filled barrels.
"Lyrium," Rori says and drops the package on Avernus' working table. "Apprentices." She nods at the mages. "And darkspawn. Alive and still kicking." She knocks her knuckles against one of the barrels. A hissing noise is the answer.
"Hmph." That's all the praise one can expect from the ancient mage. "Why in the name of the Maker did it have to be shrieks?" he complains once we have locked the beasts into the cages that line the walls. They make a hell of a noise.
We cannot perform the Joining ritual with Solona and Jowan, still they get a far deeper insight into the Grey Warden secrets than Rori or I had before we were confronted with the goblet filled with darkspawn blood. They cannot work with Avernus without that knowledge. It is a shock for both of them, but they accept their fate.
"I am a dead man already," Jowan mutters. "Without you, I'd have died without being given the chance to make up for my crimes. Now, I have this chance and I will use it. Perhaps... perhaps one day Lily will forgive me..."
"This is... uhm... not exactly an ivory tower... and, well, you said it would be unpleasant. I guess, it's not worse than being made tranquil," Solona sighs, wrapping one dark curl around her index finger as she looks around the laboratory. "And that knight... he is cute..." She claps her hands together, rolls up her sleeves and presents a bright smile to Rori and me. "Should we get working then? Perhaps a spell to make those shrieks shut up would be a good start?"
I have my doubts about Jowan, but Solona, she's going to be an awesome Grey Warden.
Gilmore waits for us at the stairs that lead down towards Sophia's office. He greets us with a broad, boyish grin. "Done with your Grey Warden business? Good, there's someone who's dying to meet you, Lady Rori. And I don't dare to make them wait any longer."
"Fergus?" Rori asks hopefully and Gilmore's smile falls from his face.
"No, it's not him. I am sorry, I shouldn't have raised false hopes. Maker, I am such a inconsiderate fool!"
"Don't worry, Gilmore. You meant well." Rori hugs him briefly. She doesn't get to give him a proper hug because he practically jumps at the contact, murmuring something about how this is not appropriate behaviour for a young noble lady. Rori ignores him, stepping closer when he steps away until she has him cornered and can finally give him the hug he deserves.
"Stop being silly, Gil. We've been friends forever."
"We were children then," Ser Gilmore stammers, blushing violently. "Things have changed when... when... you turned into a young lady."
"You cannot be my friend anymore because I have breasts?" Rori doesn't sound amused.
"Err..." Poor Gilmore squirms and stutters. "It just isn't... that's not what a knight should do... I..."
I feel utterly sorry for him. We didn't have a good start and he still keeps glaring at me as if I was an abomination... still, I do know how he feels...
What he actually wants to say is, that it changed the moment he noticed he felt more for her than he should for a childhood friend. But he cannot tell her that. He'd rather cut his own tongue out before admitting to her that he's been having a crush on her for years. And she - of course - is completely oblivious.
She doesn't notice the way he looks at her or that expression on his face when he sees her with me. She is unaware of how his gaze follows her when she leaves the room, how he blushes when she addresses him and doesn't understand why he and I don't get along.
Gilmore stammers and stutters some more but it's hardly understandable. It's good to see that I am not the only one capable of making a complete fool of myself.
"Don't you want to meet that person Gilmore mentioned before?" I decide to rescue the knight. I really don't want to walk in his shoes. Sure, now there's Solona but for now she is clearly just a distraction.
And Solona... she's been talking about Cullen all the way from Kinloch Hold to Warden's Peak. Cullen's cute curls, Cullen's sexy smirk, Cullen being hot in his armour, Cullen, Cullen and - yep - Cullen.
They both seek some comfort, it seems. I do hope they find what they are looking for.
Gilmore takes his chance and leads us into the kitchen. Barkley is the first to bounce through the door, barking happily.
"What is that? That's what you call a clean pot? If I can't see my reflection in it then it is not clean...," a screeching voice complains. "Who let that dog into my kitchen... get out you flea-infested... Barkley?"
The dog is bouncing around an old woman with a sour look on her face, her grey hair pulled up in a tight bun.
"Nan!" Rori exclaims, pouncing the old cook.
"Lady Rori..." For a second a smile forms around the old hag's lips. Then she spots Gilmore and me. "Hey, you! Yes, you, get out of my kitchen. I just had that floor scrubbed and now you come here with your muddy boots." She swats a kitchen towel at Gilmore and me. "Lady, take that dog out of here. How often do I have to tell you that the dog is not to enter my kitchen... Don't look at me like that, you beast..."
Grinning Rori smacks a kiss to the old woman's cheek and I can see her melt.
"She came here with the elves," Gilmore explains while we obediently stand at the threshold of the kitchen, not daring to enter. "They took her with them when they fled from the castle same way Rori escaped. Had to drag her along as she insisted on bashing some heads in with her pan."
"You sound... surprised? About the elves..." I can totally see Nan in battle mode, lunging herself at Howe's killers with her pan raised.
"Well, you don't know Nan, your Highness. Nan and elves... I never got the impression they liked each other much."
"Don't be ridiculous, lad," Nan snorts. "I bark at anybody." Unfortunately that's when she takes notice of me. "And who would you be?"
"I am Alistair, ma'am." The way she scrutinizes me I am expecting her to force me to scrub pots until my fingers bleed.
"Prince Alistair Theirin," Rori corrects my timid introduction.
"Now you mention it. Looks a lot like Cailan, doesn't he? Ah, Cailan, he was such a rascal. Loved my sweet buns, though. Always came to my kitchen with Fergus to steal some." She chuckles at the memory. "It is a shame what happened to him. It's even more a shame what happened to the teyrn and the teyrna. And my poor darling Oren. When you go to get Howe, Lady Rori, you take me along. I have a bone to pick with that treacherous scumbag."
Soon the three of us sit together at the kitchen table; eating Nan's freshly baked sweet buns that we dip into hot chocolate. I feel like a little boy again, when I sat in the kitchen of Redcliffe Castle at rainy days. This is one of the most peaceful moments for a long time. It feels a bit like coming home. I don't even mind that Nan keeps calling me Cailan.
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In good times and in bad