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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
- 95
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- 97
Morrigan is gone - an immense improvement of my situation. I just wish she had cut me loose before she left. Lying naked on an altar in the middle of a creepy stone circle in the dark dark night... not exactly what I'd call relaxing. The ghostly lights are back, illuminating the whole predicament. This night certainly earns a place in the top ten worst moments of my life... Now, don't nail me down on the specific order of worst-ness... I am certainly not in the condition to think straight... I am not even sure if I am actually really conscious...
Okay, let's see...
The day Eamon sent me off to the Chantry. This one dulls compared to all the other worst days, but for a ten year old it ranked pretty high. It was the day when I realized I was truly and completely alone in this world.
My Joining - not the part of being a Grey Warden, but becoming one. Now thinking about it, I totally agree with Rori using Avernus' studies to make this torment less tormenting. That will last until I next meet that weird wizened wizard...
Duncan's death at Ostagar. Loghain got what he deserved - and still the dull ache of loss didn't fade a bit. I thought everything would be different when he died, that the emptiness Duncan left behind would somehow disappear... Guess Rori is right, it won't until I fill it and a death cannot fill anything. It's just another empty spot. It's the same for her with Howe and her family.
Meeting Goldanna. Maker! What a shrew! And again all hope shattered that maybe there could be a family for me... And then I find out my mother isn't my mother and Goldanna isn't my sister. I wish I had known before I went there and made a complete fool of myself...
Fighting the broodmother formerly Laryn - actually all days in the Deep Roads were terrible, but Laryn stole the show.
Isabela. Everything about her. It just wasn't worth the trouble.
The night Rori turned into a werewolf. Her agony tore me apart inside. I had to watch her suffer and there was absolutely nothing I could do to help her.
Fort Drakon. And again I couldn't protect the woman I love. Sure, I tried, pretty hard actually. But it wasn't enough. And although Rori calls me her hero, I didn't feel very heroic, bleeding all over the place while I had to watch how those sodding bastards... Merciful Andraste! Good thing, Rori hired Zevran or I'd have to sign some death warrants as my first kingly act.
The Landsmeet. Walked in as Just Alistair, walked out as King Alistair. Sometimes I wonder if I ever overcame the first shock. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will overcome the first shock. I still jump and look around for Anora every time anybody calls me Your Majesty.
And now sleeping with Morrigan...
I am just trying to figure out if Ostagar was worse than Morrigan or the other way round when...
"Alistair?"
"Ro-rori?"
I am so utterly thankful she's here, even more when she cuts the bonds, massages my wrists, wraps a blanket around my shoulders and shortly later I sit on the altar, munching cheese sandwiches and drinking sweet tea. Typically Rori! She's so practical. Instead of sitting around in the dark forest and bawling her eyes out while Morrigan and I were... err... busy... she organized food and drink and a warm blanket and bawled her eyes out in the process. At least they are all puffed and red and her cheeks smeared with dried tears.
I thought I wouldn't be able to eat anything, not when feeling so... dirty. Actually I'd wallow in self-pity right now without Rori. About how tough it was to be brought up by flying dogs, how scrubbing countless pots while at the chantry ruined my manicure... all those terrible things that only happen to me, you know. Rori doesn't pity me, neither about the dogs nor the pots nor the encounter with Morrigan. Bless her! I'd feel worse if she did. But Rori is gentle and loving, comforting and supporting in a way that helps me regain some of my dignity. And she doesn't allow me to break down. Instead I find myself standing in the middle of a shallow river right after I stuffed the last sandwich into my mouth, and thoroughly scrub myself to get rid of any trace of Morrigan still sticking to me.
So I splash around in the icy water and try to get over just having sired a demon brat with the evil witch-bitch. And I wonder what kind of mother she will be and if it matters at all when the child will have the soul of an old god... She said it won't be evil... But Morrigan will be the mother... and, well, she's not exactly the motherly type, you know. But she cares about Rori - at least that's what she said and she sounded... sincere. And while I splash and think, I look up when the moon emerges from behind the thick clouds and there, a few yards downstream, I catch sight of a female figure scrubbing herself just like I do...
When I turn to the shore there's Rori waiting for me. She lit a fire and the first thing she hands to me - even before wrapping my shivering freezing self in a blanket - is my mother's amulet. It smoothly fits into my palm, its weight is comforting. My mother never was there for me - but she cared. When she gave me away, she sought to protect me. This amulet, it's a sign, a reminder that, although she is not there, she thinks of me.
"Be right back," I mutter as I return to the river once more.
A piece of bark, a twig and the leave of a mable tree make for a nice little ship. And off it sails downstream with my Grey Warden amulet on board.
I watch Morrigan fish the boat out of the water. When she looks up and spots me, she inclines her head. I nod in return, feeling rather soppy and foolish...
That's when Rori whispers behind me: "I love you." Seems she's feeling rather soppy, too.
"You have a questionable taste in men," I grin. "Obviously I am a notorious cheater and now I even impregnated another woman."
"What can I say? I have a soft spot for bastards," Rori giggles. And then she pounces me, I slip, we tumble backwards into the water and she so has to get out of her clothes as not to catch a cold. And of course we somehow have to get warm again.
I'm already kissing her fiercly when we stumble out of the water. Rori is a little reluctant, though. "Alistair," she gasps. "Are... are you sure?"
"I need you," I murmur, and blast, yes, I do. Being with Rori feels so right, it negates everything so wrong that happened before. After Riordan's revelation my plan for my last night alive certainly included Rori and excluded Morrigan. I don't really see why it should be the other way round now. Convincing Rori takes exactly ten seconds. Then she goes: "Oh bloody blast it!" and we get right to the steamy bits.
When the cold wakes us, the sky is already turning grey.
Blast! We're going to be late for the battle!
No careful sneaking this time. We jump into our clothes, grab our things and run.
"Good morning, Murdock. Tomas." I breathe rushing past the startled guards patrolling the camp. We burst past Ser Perth and Ser Donall standing guard in front of my kingsize tent. They yelp in surprise but we're already inside and receive our welcome reception - can't say it's very affectionate.
"WHERE IN THE NAME OF THE MAKER HAVE YOU BEEN!?" Eamon roars.
Rori and I stand there, frozen to the spot, holding hands as we gawk stupidly at the assembled people. Teagan, Riordan, the Grand Cleric, Irving. Yeah, and Eamon. None of them looks happy. Actually the expressions vary from greatly disappointed (Eamon) to utterly relieved (Riordan), 'Told-you-so!' (Grand Cleric) and confused (Irving - as he has fallen asleep in the armchair - it's incredible what kings drag along for camping! - and only got startled out of his slumber by Eamon's yelling). Teagan takes one look at us and starts laughing.
Oh blast! Rori and I are in for a right royal dressing-down. We of course deserve it. More than any of those assembled can imagine.
Not that there's much there considering the dressing. We were in such a hurry, we only put on as much as absolutely necessary to cover the important parts. Rori carries her boots in one hand. She ran all the way in her rainbow-coloured archdemon socks. The hastily closed blouse reveals far more than it should, giving everybody who cares to notice a grand view down her cleavage - and with a bosom like hers, it's impossible not to notice.
My own appearance also is far from royal. I have to hold on to my pants to stop them from falling - couldn't find my belt nowhere - and the shirt is back to front.
"Err... forest?" I mutter. Quite obvious actually with all the leaves and twigs entangled in Rori's hair.
"And what did you do there?" Eamon demands to know.
Rori and I turn a brighter shade of pink, ears glowing, and I begin to sweat.
"Err..." I mumble, unable to look Eamon in the eyes. Now, what we did there... Oh, well, some blood magic sex ritual including a Witch of the Wilds, the king of Ferelden and an ancient pagan altar used to worship an elven goddess... Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Nothing to get upset about... Oh mercicul Andraste! And still no lightning of divine wrath sent from heaven above. I am somewhat getting the impression the Maker gives a damn.
"Uhm..." Rori murmurs, shifting her weight uneasily. Then with a sheepish grin, she adds compunctiously: "Bit of frolicking? Uhm... kinda." We exchange a look and although she's flushed head to toe, there's utter relief displayed on her face. And on mine. Who would have thought that all those awkward moments of people walking in on us would one day save us? Nobody in here is even questioning we did anything else in the forest but some decent all night long lamp post licking.
Eamon's face is as red as ours. Different reason, though. He is hopping mad. "You are the king and future queen of Ferelden and at the eve of the battle - a battle that will decide the fate of this nation - you run off into the forest for... your own pleasures!?"
"They are kids, Eamon," Teagan says soothingly.
"They are the monarchs of Ferelden!"
"That title doesn't make them any older or wiser. They are kids and behave just like kids do."
Err... yes, with the slight disparity that most kids don't perform blood-magic sex rites to imprison the soul of an old god in a human baby.
"Yes, and why not? I mean, that's probably the last night of our lives. What better way to spend it?" Rori shoots back defiantly. Teagan's face is red, too, by the effort of biting back his laughter.
"You should have spent it with prayers and contemplation!" the Grand Cleric preaches.
Rori snorts.
My attempts to look somewhat docile completely fail. All Rori's fault.
"Stop grinning!" the Grand Cleric snaps at me. "Nothing has changed. You are still a disgrace."
"A royal disgrace if you please," I correct her. Is this all she got? I get worse from Morrigan. Teagan almost chokes on his suppressed laughter by now.
"As the leader of this nation you have a responsibility...," Eamon begins but Rori cuts him short.
"So we went into the forest and had wild animalistic extramarital and un-replicating sex in various positions. Get over it!"
This... uhm... conversation is not exactly quiet. No wonder half of the camp is gathered outside the kingsize tent by now. Rori's declaration - shouted at the top of her voice - earns her a thunderous applause from our audience and some wolf-whistles.
Considering the Grand Cleric's expression she would love to bell, book and candle us right here and now. I'd advise against it. Rori is capable of founding her own religion. "For the love of Andraste! Don't we have other things to worry about?" Rori snaps. "Like, you know, the Blight, the archdemon, Denerim getting torn down by darkspawn right now? Do we really want to waste time arguing about the king's love life?"
"That is absolutely none of your business anyway," I add firmly.
"I thought you deserted," Riordan admits, sounding so utterly relieved that we didn't that my bad conscience scathingly glowers at me with contempt.
"Well, we're here now, so how about we prepare for battle?" I mutter, feeling like a complete failure, coward and traitor. I very much doubt, Riordan would pat my shoulder and go: 'Good of you, son!' if he knew anything about the ritual. It could save his life, too, sure, but I don't think he'd appreciate. Thinking about it... Duncan wouldn't appreciate either. Blast! Too late for regret. Let's at least get the rest done right. "Now out of my tent! I'd prefer to put on my armour without everybody and their dog watching."
"I am too old for this," Irving murmurs to himself as he slowly hobbles past us. "Bet that the archdemon will choose the highest tower it can find for the battle. And I will have to climb all the stairs to get it. Have to talk to Dagna again about this lift-thing... Climb into a box and get lifted to any floor you like... If I didn't fear she'd blow up the whole tower..."
"Don't get distracted again," Teagan chuckles as he passes by, winking at me as he pats my shoulder. "Couldn't blame you if you did, though," he adds as Rori chooses this very moment to bend, putting on her boots. Her backside is as lovely as the front. Especially in these tight leather pants.
"Maker preserve us!" the Grand Cleric mutters, looking pointedly at Rori and me as if it was our fault that the darkspawn came into the world to begin with.
"The men and women out there rely on you, Alistair," Eamon reminds me. "The king controls the moral of his soldiers."
"Yeah? Then I better not tell them we're all doomed, right?"
Instead two hours later, King Alistair in his shiny splendiferous armour, mounted on a noble steed, prepares to hold a speech, preferably an encouraging one ... I feel like a clown and Master Dennet muttering to Teagan "The boy's riding as if he had a pole stuck up his shirt" when I pass by, doesn't help with my uncomfortableness. The army has assembled on a hill with a grand view at Denerim, burning houses, masses of darkspawn and corpses littering the ground included. Not exactly the best motif for a picture postcard. And high up in the sky the archdemon is circling above the city, breathing its blue flames onto my palace!
"It's burning down my house!" I cry, feeling personally insulted.
"How about stopping it then?" Zevran advises cheerfully. Then he beams at the drunken dwarf who beams back at the murderous elf and both roar: "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire! We don't need no water let the motherfucker burn. Burn, motherfucker, burn!"
"When you said you had mushroom ragout last night with the Legion of the Dead, what kind of mushrooms did you mean actually?" Wynne wonders aloud. All the granny mage receives for an answer is Oghren and Zevran giggling like little girls.
"Whatever they ate, I want some, too," Rori says, hurrying after the dwarf and the elf staggering off arm in arm, singing at the top of their voices: "The archdemon's flyin' over your head if you wanna survive, get out of bed. You're in the army now. Oh, oh you're in the army, now."
I guess I can't just join the choir. Too bad. Okay, so here we go. I push my horse to the front of the army - my army - riding up the staircase off a former watchtower. Towering over the men and women, elves, dwarves and humans, one golem and one Qunari - I can see the fear in their eyes. They all look at me for guidance - what a joke! Just that this is serious, so I put on my serious face and shout in my serious voice:
"Before us stand the might of the darkspawn horde. Gaze upon them now but fear them not" Easier said then done, really. I myself very much feel like wetting my pants and the effort of controlling my facial features already results in a cramp in my jaws. I have no blasted clue what to say next when everybody expects me to say something epic. That's when I spot Rori giving me thumbs up. "This woman beside me," I go on, beckoning Rori to join me and Shale just lifts her onto my horse to sit behind me. "Err... this woman behind me is a native of Ferelden, risen to the ranks of the Grey Wardens..."
"Risen is quite a euphemism considering how and why I got there," Rori mutters in my ear.
"She is proof that glory is within reach of us all..."
"Glory sounds like a pretty inscription for a gravestone," Rori murmurs. "Say something positive!"
"Shut up and look confident," I hiss under my breath, nudging her with my elbow. "She has survived despite the odds, and without her, none of us would be here!"
"Fortune favours fools," Rori whispers as I turn the horse and have it prance down the stairs and ride up and down the long row of soldiers at the very front.
"Today, we save Denerim!" I shout and Rori goes: "YAY! "
"Today, we avenge the death of my brother, King Cailan!"
"Woot!" Rori cheers.
"How many of those mushrooms did you eat?" I whisper.
"Uhm..." Rori begins to count on her fingers.
"But most of all," I return to the speech-business. "Today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honour their sacrifice." Rori is still immersed in figuring out her mushroom consumption. "Battle starts now," I inform her.
"Awesome!" she beams, clapping her hands.
"You are the commander of this army," I remind her.
"Oh, well... darkspawn, this way!" My fellow Grey Warden points at the burning city. "You can't miss it."
I decide it's better to keep her here with me and draw my sword, lifting it in the air. "For Ferelden!" I roar, my cry answered by a thousand throats. Rori squeals with delight. "For the Grey Wardens!"
As I spur my horse to galop, rushing down the hill with thundering hooves, and with the cavalry wheeling up into line behind me, I can hear the distant singing of the Legion of the Dead: "So always look on the bright side of death. Just before you draw your terminal breath..." And Rori whistles along...
"WHOA!" she breathes when suddenly a wall of magical fire appears in front of us, rolling towards the front line of darkspawn with their rampart of pikes, blowing it away as if it was a card house...
Then we crash into the darkspawn, cutting down bodies left and right. This is it. The final battle. Our adventure ends here... perhaps there will be new ones awaiting us afterwards...
It all rests in the Maker's hands.
- 95
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- 97
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In good times and in bad