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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
I only switch out of my mourning stupor when we reach Lothering. I still cannot believe what has happened. They are gone. All of them. Dead. I will never see them again. Everything went wrong. I should have been fighting with them, I should have died with them. Instead I am here, and I don't even know where here exactly is.
Rori picked up when I dropped everything at her feet. For a moment I panicked and thought she would leave me alone when she said I was the real Grey Warden, not her. Instead she took right over when I didn't even attempt to. She has been leading us here, us being Morrigan - however we came to be loaded with her! - Rori, Barkley and I. It's quite unfair to make her end the Blight all on her own while I only trudge after her.
"Glad you are back with me," she remarks, smiling warmly at me, when we are done making plans that sound so vague that I don't even want to call them plans. Still, trying to get to Arl Eamon sounds like the best idea we can probably follow.
"I'm sorry...," I begin but she interrupts me.
"No harm, done, Alistair. Actually I acted the same way during my journey to Ostagar with Duncan. I understand how you feel."
Blast it! I am so sucked up with myself that I keep forgetting she has lost her family. I haven't once asked her about it. I haven't once cared to check if she needed any comfort, someone to talk to while she listened patiently to me when I unburdened my heart to her. She offered words and gestures of comfort and I gave her... nothing. I feel like a complete moron now.
Rori goes and makes it worse when she slides the shield she has been carrying along off her back. I've been wondering why she would drag it along as she prefers a two-weapon combat. With the shield on her back she reminds me a bit of a turtle. A very cute and extremely dexterous turtle. "Here." She hands the shield to me. "Take it. Yours broke during the fight with the ogre. You need a new one."
I look at the crest on the kite shield and finally it begins to dawn on me why she wouldn't leave the shield behind. Heraldry wasn't part of my templar training but Arl Eamon played this game with me when I was a kid. If I could guess the crests at the tourneys we visited correctly, he would buy me a gift or some sweets. Once in Denerim I did so well that he bought me a miniature golem doll.
"But... this is your family shield... It's a Cousland heirloom. I cannot accept such a gift from you."
"As far as I know I am the only Cousland left. Fergus could still be alive. I hope he is but I have to be realistic about his chances. That makes you... You are what comes closest to family for me now. Please, take it." She sounds so serious and so sad at the same time. She's probably right, though. We are the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. We got noone to turn to but each other.
"This is an honour I do not deserve."
"Alistair!" she cries in exasperation. "If you don't take this shield right now I swear I am going to bash in your pighead with it."
"Oink," I go and she raises the shield. Much effort for such a petite and frail girl. If she doesn't watch out she'll topple over. "Alright, here's the deal." Rori squints her eyes at me suspiciously. "I will borrow that shield from you. And you can take it back whenever you want."
"Deal."
And that's how I get a new shield and Rori gets someone to carry her family heirloom.
"So... Arl Eamon...," Rori says when we march into the village. "I have met him a few times... can't say I made much of an impression. At least not a good one." She grins sheepishly, looking all compunctious and guilty. She even squirms a bit. "He and Father got along quite well... especially when they wanted to convince the king of doing something Loghain didn't like. Mostly when it got something to do with Orlais."

"You didn't make much of an impression?" I prompt. Did I mention I'm as curious as a cat?

"Oh, you know, I was one of the flower girls at his wedding with Lady Isolde... and... err... those flower girl dresses weren't made for climbing trees and play tag in the stables... And I lost all the white rose petals from my basket. Replaced them with wildflowers. The Arlessa wasn't amused."

"Oh, now I remember," I laugh. "That was you?"

"Yeah, that was me," she mutters, blushing deep crimson at the realization that I was there, too. "I'm sorry, I can't remember having met you there."

"I wasn't really taking part... The Arlessa wasn't particularily fond of me. I was in the stables, hiding up in the hayloft. I saw you running around with the other noble children." Actually only boys but her. She was wearing a pale pink silk and chiffon dress and matching boots. Isolde was fuming for weeks after, when one of her flower girls appeared all covered in mud and Eamon still made his bride let the girl take part because of her high and mighty parents.
"Why didn't you come down to play with us?"
"I was a shy boy." Truth is, they had made clear I wasn't to mingle with the nobles. Well, Isolde had made that clear. I didn't understand what I had done to her to despise me that much.

"But why weren't you at the wedding? You weren't hiding from that, too, were you. Oh... you weren't invited?" Rori asks after a moment. The way she frowns she just put two and two together. "But... you said Arl Eamon raised you?"

"Did I say that? I meant dogs raised me. Giant slobbering dogs from Anderfels. A whole pack of them in fact."

"Really? That must have been hard for them," Rori laughs. "And fun for you," she adds after a short pause.

"Well, they were flying dogs, you see. Surprisingly strict parents, too - so much for the fun - and devout Andrastians, to boot."

"So, they did not let you ride on them? Riding on flying dogs, that must have been almost like riding a griffon. They certainly miss you terribly. Do you write at least? I bet your mother's a bitch." The moment the words have left her mouth, she claps her hands over it, eyes wide in shock of what she has just said.

"All right, all right! I give! I cannot match your rapier wit," I laugh before she can even start to stammer an apology. She's cute when she blushes. "Let's see... how do I explain this? I am a bastard." Rori opens her mouth for another remark but I cut her short this time. It's one of my weak spots and I don't feel much like taking the jesting route this time. "And before you make any comments, I mean the fatherless type. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn't my father but he took me in anyhow, put a roof over my head. He was good to me and he didn't have to be."

"So you know who your father is?"

"I know who I was told was my father. He died even before my mother did, anyhow." That's the first blunt lie I ever told her. I don't know why I do this. It's self-protection, I guess. I just cannot make myself tell her the truth - that King Maric was my father -, although it makes me feel awfully guilty after all the comfort she has tried to give me after Duncan's death. All the time when she talks to me, it seems she does care. But fact is, I do not know her. And she doesn't know me. For me, the man who sired me, who never took any interest in me, never cared, he indeed could have died even before my mother did and it wouldn't have made any difference. "It isn't important." And another lie. Now after Cailan died, even I have to admit, someone could believe my Theirin bloodline to actually be important. Oh Maker! I do hope nobody gets strange ideas about that. I feel fine being just Alistair.

"But Arl Eamon sent you away to the Chantry. Why would he do such a thing when he cared for you?"

"The new Arlessa resented the rumours which pecked me as his bastard. They weren't true but of course they existed. The Arl didn't care. But she did. So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. The Arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home to me anymore at that point."

"What a cruel thing to do to a child," Rori murmurs, squeezing my hand comfortingly. To say I'm surprised by this gesture is quite an understatement. It makes me feel even worse for having lied to her.
Lothering is crowded with refugees. I do hope they do not plan to stay and wait for the darkspawn. At the church Rori stops in front of the chanter's board.
"The Chantry is still running the Chanter's Board? Now THAT's dedication!" I laugh.
"Good for us. We are broke. We need some money and if we don't want to start a second career as robbers like these pricks on the road, this sounds like a good idea, don't you think?"
See? That's another reason why Rori is the better leader. For a noble woman she's incredibly pragmatic. I have to keep that in mind for Morrigan if she ever asks me again why I don't take the lead. We need money, Rori finds a way to earn it. She doesn't sit and fret and wait for others to do the job for her. She just does it. There's no complaining or whining. She certainly grew up in luxury. Still not once have I heard her complain about her situation. When I ask her about it, all she says is: "If complaining and wailing got me anywhere, I'd complain and wail all day long. But it won't change a thing. Doing something instead, now, that can improve my situation. So I certainly won't waste time and effort on something that can't."
"That's a rather grown-up and pragmatic point of view for a noble woman your age."
"Blame my father. He always used to say: 'Pup, don't wait for things to happen, make them happen.'"
So instead of becoming robbers ourselves we kill some - and I get another proof for Rori's pragmatic nature when she raids the corpses of the slain men without even flinching.
She notices me staring at her while she rummages through the pockets of a decapitated man. His head has rolled to one side and the dead eyes glare at Rori accusingly. "What? He doesn't need the coins anymore. We do."
"I'm a little surprised a noble woman would do something like that." It has never occured to me before to sack the belongings of the dead. With darkspawn I'd rather not touch them. With other opponents I kind of feel it would disgrace them. Even a criminal deserves some respect.
"They are dead. It doesn't hurt them, Alistair." Rori pulls at a heavy purse that got stuck under its previous owner. "We are Grey Wardens. We do whatever is necessary to end the Blight." Her stomach rumbles loudly. "And at the moment it is necessary to feed this Grey Warden to keep her from starving."
"At least one of you has some common sense," Morrigan remarks dryly as she drifts past me. I wish she would disappear. Rori thinks she is useful. Same kind of useful as raiding corpses.
Rori isn't always that brave and pragmatic, though. When we explore the area around Lothering in search for some boy's mother, she pokes her head into a cave - and screaming as if the archedemon itself was chasing her, comes running towards me, jumping straight into my arms. "Spiders!" she squeaks, her face ashen.
"You are afraid of a few itsy-bitsy tiny spiders?" I laugh and almost choke on it when I see the arachnoids emerge from the cave. They are as big as a full grown stallion.
Rori hides behind me. "Save me, white knight in splendid armor! Kill the itsy-bitsy tiny spiders!" she teases.
That's what my big mouth gets me into over and over again. "I guess, I could do with some help," I mutter, grinning sheepishly.
"I can cheer for you? No? Oh well..." She gets her bow ready. "But I'm not going anywhere near that beasts!"
After we've passed in and out of the Chantry the third time, Rori has had about enough of the wailing lunatic that has been driving the people crazy with his apocalyptic clamor. She turns on her heels and pushes past the crowd gathered around the ranting man. "Oh shut the fuck up!" she snaps at the darkskinned man. She has to tilt her head back to actually look him in the eye.
"There, one of their minions is already amongst us!" the man screams, pointing at Rori. The people around him have been scared by his words but now some begin to chuckle. Rori is a rather small young woman with a pretty heartshaped face, large blue eyes, rosebud lips and bright red tousled hair - she looks like a doll, certainly not like a darkspawn minion. She casts a quick glance over her shoulder at me but all I can do is shrug. I do not know how this man could tell she carries the taint inside of her. I have never heard of people being able to sense a Grey Warden.
"Listen to yourself! You're acting like a complete idiot," Rori hisses, arms akimbo. "I am not going to stand here and just wait for the darkspawn to come. Nothing is lost yet if we just pull ourselves together and do something! We can still defeat them."
"That little girl got stones," one of the villagers remarks on passing by. She is a tall woman with short dark hair and brown eyes. She has a younger man trudging behind, clearly her brother. "You should listen to her, not him."
"Hawke and the girl are right. Let's leave now. Maybe we can reach Denerim."
"You should leave, too," Rori tells the stranger after the refugees have left and the lunatic has come back to his senses.
"First I have to convince my mother to leave. She can be rather stubborn."
"If necessary I just carry her!" her brother exclaims.
"Now, I really want to see that, Carver," the woman chuckles.
"I've been in Ostagar," Carver says in a hollow voice. "Mother just has to listen to me!" He turns to us, frowning as he tries to figure out where he has seen us before. "You were there, too, weren't you?" he asks. "Is it true what they say, that the Grey Wardens betrayed King Cailan?"
"It is not!" I exclaim, anger flaring inside of me.
"If they betrayed him they certainly wouldn't all be dead now," Rori points out. "What an intrigue should that be where the traitors all die due to their own plan? And what would they have gained from murdering Cailan? Loghain is the one who walked away from the battlefield."
"I couldn't believe these stories about the Wardens. I was there and saw them fight. One of them, dark skin, black beard, fought with a sword and a dagger, he even saved my life," Carver mumbles. "Now all we can do, is run."
The siblings bid their farewell to us. I doubt we will ever see them again. I just hope they make it out of this village before the horde arrives.
We set up camp outside Lothering this night. Next to an evil witch Rori has added a creepy Qunari to our group and an ex-sister with crazy visions. I am not sure if I like this. Rori isn't sure either but she's downright practical, so who am I to complain? I forced the role of the leader upon her as I wasn't willing to take it. To critizise her decisions now seems wrong. I look at our little party and sigh. An ex-noble and ex-sister, an almost templar, a full-time witch-bitch and a grumpy Qunari murderer. I swear the dog is the only one normal here. "More crazy? I thought we were all full up."
"We need all help we can get. Didn't you say the good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together?" Rori teases.
"Aw, that's not fair! You're using my own words against me!"
Rori grins impishly. "Well, what can I say, I am a mean person."
"You are not! Morrigan is mean. You are... cute."
"Cute?" she laughs. "Raiding corpses is cute?"
"When it's you raiding them, yeah, I think it is." The look on her face makes me reconsider my words. "This didn't turn out like I wanted it to sound. I sound like..."
"... a creepy deviant?" she completes my sentence. If not for the twinkle in her eyes and the smile that tucks at the corners of her mouth I could feel offended. But with Rori this is a game we play. I enjoy how she isn't miffed by my habit of jesting whenever I try to hide my true feelings. Too many people just tell me to give it a rest and start to grow up and be serious. Rori doesn't do that. I can't say how much I enjoy these little verbal battles with her.
"I do, right? Oh blast it, that much for trying to make a good impression. If you excuse me now, I will go and sit with the other nutcases."
During my watch I notice Rori is tossing and turning on her mat. I can hear her groan and sob in her sleep. I have no idea if Duncan told her about the nightmares - I think I might have mentioned but I am not sure. I gently shake her awake, making sure she isn't too startled. I know she sleeps with her dagger at hand and I don't want to risk her stabbing me out of fear and confusion. She wakes with a startled cry but I catch her hands, trying to be gentle, before she can punch me. "Hush, it's only a dream."
She's pale, her eyes huge and frightened. "It felt so real," she whispers, hugging herself. I don't know what to do so I seek refuge in making a joke out of it. A wry smile is my reward. We decide to move on and I go and wake the others so that we can get going. Well, I trick Barkley into waking Morrigan by throwing a stick for him right into her tent. He bursts through the entrance and next I hear Morrigan scream bloody murder.
Haha!
While we pack the tents and other stuff Rori has purchased with the raided and earned money, I notice that our leader is missing. I cannot remember when I last saw her so I leave Morrigan with Sten and Leliana and search for Rori.
For a brief moment I am terrified that she has left me alone. I have no reason to believe she'd just run but being left behind is something I cannot cope with easily. It's a fear that makes me go cold inside. I look around the camp and follow a small path towards the brook. The birds begin to sing, greeting dawn. The night turns grey, the sun bathes the horizon in soft flames of pink, orange and red.
I find Rori crouching at the side of the brook. She is hugging her knees to her chest and she's sobbing. Blast it, I should have seen this coming. How could I expect her to cope with everything? She saw how her family got murdered, then we made her drink poison without giving her as much as a hint of a warning before. We threw her into a horrendous battle against the darkspawn and if that wasn't enough, I burdened her with the problem of ending the Blight. It is she who has to make the decisions while I stay in the background because I feel unable to get anything done right.
Even now when she sits there and cries I retreat. I keep telling myself it's because I don't want to invade her privacy. Truth is, I am a coward. One step backwards, then another. I step onto a dry branch with the thrid and she looks up at the sound of snatching wood. I freeze when her red rimmed eyes meet mine. My heart skips a beat. I am trapped. What to do now?
I am still occupied with the process of thinking while my feet carry me towards her. I kneel down next to her, wondering what I am doing here. "Hey," I coo softly while I caress the side of her face with my thumb. "Don't cry."
Obviously this was the wrong thing to say because she only cries harder - and throws herself at me, her arms wrapping around my neck, she buries her face at my chest. I hold her, feeling her body tremble in my arms. It feels strangely right, as if she belongs there. The urge of protectiveness returns to me. I was too busy with myself and my own grief to pay attention to anybody else. There's no words to express how sorry I am.
And yet she is the one to apologize. "Sorry," she snivels, when she shrugs out of my embrace. Her eyes are all puffed and red, traces of dried tears smear her cheeks.
"No harm done, Rori."
"I greased your shirt with snot," she points out.
"An improvement, if you ask my opinion, all those blood stains from the battle were getting rather old. I was looking for a new adornment anyway."
She laughs and snuffles, then wipes her nose at her sleeve.
"Whoa, here, you can have my handkerchief. It is clean! I promise. At least cleaner than my shirt."
"There's a knot in your handkerchief."
"Yeah, it shall remind me of something I should not forget."
"And what is it you have to remember?"
"I don't know. I have forgotten."
"Oh, Alistair!" Rori laughs. Oh, how I love that sound of her ringing laughter.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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In good times and in bad