Hoping One Day We'll Make A Dream Last | By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction |
Can Alistair and Rori save their baby or do they face another tragedy? Will they ever be the happy family Alistair dreams of? Learn about Alistair's struggle to become a good king, about political intrigues and new alliances formed. Be their guest at the royal wedding. Find out how the Grey Wardens react to Rori's survival after slaying the archdemon. Accompany Rori and Alistair to Amaranthine and Kirkwall. Find out the truth about the Calling. Read how Rori tracks down Morrigan and find out about the witch's gift to the monarchs of Ferelden. Follow Alistair on his desperate search for his missing father, King Maric. Can he finally solve the mystery of his mother's true identity? Witness Rori's departure on search for a cure for the Calling, her final adventure should she fail. And Alistair left alone at the brink of yet another catastrophe threatening to destroy Thedas.
Find out about all that and more in Hoping One Day We'll Make a Dream Last, Part 2 of the Roristair Series.
In Good Times and in Bad, first part of the series, can be found here: http://games.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600089183
Alistair will tell from a first person, past tense point of view. For Rori's part Alistair will be the narrator, telling her story from a third person, past tense point of view.
Just imagine Alistair sitting in an armchair, with the dogs sleeping on the rugs in front of the fire place. And there's this one person in the second arm chair to whom Alistair tells the story of his life.
Chapter 1 - Broken Dreams
Alistair Theirin, newly minted King of Ferelden, reluctantly opened his eyes and was instantly rewarded with splendid sunlight flooding in through the windows - and a splitting headache...
How's that for a start? Sounds quite dull, doesn't it? Maybe if I had some darkspawn break in through the window... I could fend them off only armed with my pillow... What? Just tell the story? Stick to the truth? Alright, alright... Now, where did I stop?
Err, yes...
My head wasn't the only part of my body hurting. No surprise as my last memory included being gnawed at by the archdemon. My own condition, however, wasn't the reason for my great anxiety. It was the absence of my beloved soon-to-be wife. Last I had seen her, she had lain in my arms, more dead than alive, and with her talent for worst timing had chosen that very moment to confess to me she was with child.
Boy, she had some nerve!
After some thorough contemplation, I came to the conclusion, that I indeed was still alive and by the look of my surroundings – formerly nicely furnished room, lots of bloodstains, breathtaking view onto the burning havocked capital - somewhere inside the palace.
A rope dangling from the torn canopy of my bed turned out to be a bell and as soon as I rang it, Wynne sailed in through the doors with an encouraging smile plastered across her face. "How do we feel today?" she chimed as she put her hand on my forehead to check my temperature.
"I don't know how you feel. I'd feel much better if I knew what happened to Rori."
"Alistair, you should for now concentrate on getting better..."
"Wynne! How is Rori? Where is she?"
"She is... as well as can be expected under the circumstances." Wynne answered evasively.
"What!? What does that mean? And what about the baby?"
"You shouldn't get yourself all worked up about her. You were badly injured, mostly internal bleedings. I did what I could for you. And for Rori. There is nothing you can do right now but rest. Everything else is in the Maker's hand." The granny mage smiled a warm, motherly smile and pinched my cheek.
If that was meant to comfort me, it didn't work. Not a bit. She didn't once mention the baby! They say no news are good news – well, blast that! I never believed that to be true.
Groaning, I got out of bed as soon as Wynne disappeared - meaning I dropped onto the rug and lay there, unable to get to my feet as my legs were unwilling to support any weight. No surprise there with one of my legs thoroughly bandaged and splinted.
Blast it!
I pulled myself forward, dragging the rug along. It nicely slid across the smooth floor. I rounded the bed when two pairs of boots appeared in sight.
“Your Majesty! What in the name of the Maker are you doing?” the owner of the darker and much dirtier footwear exclaimed.
“He is not yet crowned so it is your Highness, if you please,” the shiny boots corrected.
“I doubt he cares much about being correctly addressed right now, Eamon.”
Right. Couldn't have cared less. All I cared about was Rori. So I decided not to bother with my visitors and just moved on with the task at hand: Find Rori! I slid to the right and crawled around the obstacles in my way – only to be stopped again, two strong arms hauling me off the ground and before I could even protest, I was back in bed and Eamon tugged the blanket around me like he occasionally had done when I was a boy.
“Your Highness, you were seriously injured. You should stay in bed.”
“Wynne said I had internal bleedings. That's nothing much to worry about,” I sulked. “I mean, inside - that's where the blood is supposed to be, right?”
“Did Wynne also say something about a serious head injury?” Teagan wondered while Eamon had a facepalm moment.
“Look, you cannot get up now...,” Eamon began, sounding as if he was talking to a specially retarded toddler. Exhaustion was written all over his face. Teagan didn't look much better.
“Ain't I king?” I cut him short. “And don't kings give orders? That kind of orders people actually yield to?”
“Alistair, please be reasonable...” Eamon sighed in exasperation. Not your Highness, not your Majesty, not your Whateverness or your Somethingesty. Just Alistair. Nice try, Eamon.
“Alistair isn't reasonable. He doesn't want to be reasonable. He wants to be with his woman. Now!” I sulked, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“He's learning pretty fast, don't you think?” Teagan chuckled. “That sounded very much like Cailan. We better do what his Highness wants, hm?”
"Yeah, if the king wants to see his woman you probably shouldn't keep him waiting,” I wholeheartedly agreed with my sort-of uncle. “He might get mad, start crying, you'll feel bad and well... it won't be pretty."
“She can't walk, you can't walk. How do you want to get there, your Highness?” Eamon unnervedly demanded to know.
I grinned from ear to ear as I wiggled my eyebrows at the Arl.
Ten minutes later...
“Faster, Teagan!”
“You're no little boy anymore, Alistair,” the bann panted, running faster as he pushed the wheelbarrow down the corridor past startled servants and smirking guards. I waved graciously at my subjects, an incarnation of kingliness and dignity worthy the Theirin blood – alright, alright, I admit, I wasn't looking very kingly that moment, wearing my nightshirt and my bare legs dangling over the sides of the wheelbarrow.
“You saying, I'm too heavy?” I laughed, clutching the sides of the wheelbarrow when Teagan slithered around a corner. “Or it's you being a bit rusty?”
“Indeed. My last wheelbarrow race was way back.”
“About ten years,” I said fondly. Teagan always had been in for a race or two whenever he came to Redcliffe. We were the best wheelbarrow-racing-team ever. There was that one time when Teagan stumbled and let go of the wheelbarrow and it rushed all the way downhill from the windmill to the market place... Boy, what a ride!
“How time flies.” Teagan chortled.
Eamon followed on our heels – and wheels. “Your Highness, I have to protest! This is inappropriate behaviour for a king! So many have died, so many lost their beloved, their homes...”
Really? I mean, who can stay serious when being pushed around in a wheelbarrow? I'm telling you, it's absolutely impossible.
“Arl Eamon, there's one thing I have learnt from Rori during the last year: You better enjoy life whenever you get a chance because there's a tragedy waiting around the next corner for sure.” Teagan had the wheelbarrow halt in front of a set of doors guarded by Ser Gilmore – rolling his eyes - and Darrian Tabris – almost choking on biting back a laugh. “Or behind the next door,” I added with a heavy sigh.
The moment Teagan rolled me through the doors, Wynne came face to face with me, poking her finger at my chest. “Alistair, if you open your wounds up, I'm not going to heal them again. You can just treat them yourself. And if they fest, weeping bloody pus, and burn like the flames of Andraste's pyre, don't come to me. All I'm going to say is: "Alistair, didn't I tell you to stay in bed?"
„You didn't specify which bed.“ I offered a lopsided grin of extraordinary dorky charm. Wynne just stared back at me untouchedly. „That bed over there seems as good as any other bed, right?“ I croaked, my grin turning from irresistible to sheepish – alright, it had been sheepish all the time. That much for appearing cocksure and nonchalant.
„That's Rori's,“ Wynne said icily.
„Perfect! The day is looking up already.“
„She needs rest.“
„Alistair!“ Rori's voice sounded from a heap of blankets and pillows. „Thank the Maker you are here! And you had a wheelbarrow race! Without me!“
„My dear, wheelbarrow races are the last thing you should be worried about,“ Wynne scolded her as she returned to stand at Rori's bed with Solona. Jowan slumped in an armchair, struggling to stay awake, while Avernus sat in his wheelchair as if it was a throne. All of them wore a concentrated and thoroughly worried expression. Well, not Avernus. He looked delighted. He kept rubbing his hands excitedly and his grin was somewhat... creepy. Okay, Avernus was always somewhat creepy.
With some help from Teagan and Jowan, I managed to climb into bed next to my woman. She immediately snuggled to me, resting her head at my chest. I held her close, nuzzling the top of her head. Even with the metallic stench of blood tainting the air, the faint scent of verbena was still lingering on her. She was engulfed by magic, spells so powerful I could sense them through the lyrium still circling in my blood.
„You missed the whole show,“ Rori murmured as if she had read my mind. „First Avernus and Wynne had a row – I thought they'd blow up the whole palace. And all the time Solona screamed at them to pull themselves together because I was bleeding to death meanwhile. The one actually keeping me alive was Jowan. He's totally drained, the poor lad. I don't know how but they must have managed to settle their dispute, because next time I drifted back to consciousness there were four mages hovering around me, casting spells together. It involved a whole lot of chanting and waving their hands around... and then there was this light, like glitters of gold raining down on me. I now glow in the dark!“ She pulled the blanket over our heads to show me the golden glow surrounding her. „I totally can read without a candle at night!“
„That's amazing, goldy. Especially the part of you still being alive.“ I kissed her forehead gently. Maker's Breath, it felt so good to hold her!
„Hey, now your lips glow, too!“ Rori giggled.
„Now, are you going to tell me what's going on? Are you alright?“ Apart from glowing she didn't look well. Her face was ashen, dark shadows beneath her eyes gave away how exhausted she was. But worst was the sadness in her eyes that betrayed her smile. „What about the baby? The one you didn't tell me about because?“
„I couldn't tell you!“ Rori exclaimed, compunctiously casting her eyes down. „You would have never let me fight in the battle!“
„Damn right, my dear! How could you risk your and the baby's life like that!?“
„Three Grey Wardens.“ She didn't say no more. She didn't have to. Our chances had been odd. So very odd it was a miracle we actually made it. There had been hundreds of Grey Wardens during all the other Blights before. This time, there had only been three. She had been scared out of her mind, desperate and close to breaking down after Riordan's revelation that one of us would have to die for sure. She could have backed out of it then easily. One word about her being with child – my child and thus the heir to the throne – and she would have been tucked away safely far far away from any darkspawn.
„How long have you known?“
„Morrigan informed me when we marched on Denerim. Before I was blissfully oblivious. It was a shock. I never expected this to happen. Not after you told me about Grey Wardens being infertile.“
„She offered you a potion,“ I recalled the scene in the warcamp, how upset Rori had been. „You said it was a remedy for your sickness but you didn't drink it because of the drastic side effects... Wait! That witch-bitch tried to kill my child!“
„She meant well.“
„How can killing a baby be meant well!?“
„She tried to protect me. End it quickly instead of suffering through losing the child. She warned me about the consequences should I decide to fight.“ Her voice was so small, choked by tears rolling down her cheeks. I cannot even imagine how torn she had to be back then. Still I was furious and disappointed because she hadn't trusted me but left me out when we should have decided together.
„Alistair, please don't be mad at me,“ she whispered, her tears soaking my shirt. „I... I tried to tell you but either you were busy or fell asleep...“
„So it's my fault?“ I snapped, regretting at once how harsh I sounded. I didn't even give her the chance to defend herself, but sat up, emerging from beneath the blanket. What can I say, I was feeling betrayed, helpless, I was scared... Alright, I was acting like a complete jerk.
All the while the mages hovered around us, never agreeing on anything. The bickering went on and on and all I got from it was that both Rori and the baby were in danger and they couldn't agree on what to do about it. Then Eamon got in on the discussion, urging the mages to save the baby cost what it may. Meaning, he didn't mind Rori kicking the bucket as long as the heir didn't die.
„Can anybody here tell me about the baby's condition?“ I demanded to know. „The suitable for dummies version, please.“
„We could stop the placenta separation...,“ Solona began.
„The what?“
„You don't want to know,“ Rori muttered. „Give him the short version, Sol. Just the basics.“
She hid beneath the blankets but I still could hear her crying. It was heartbreaking and melted my self-righteous fury away. She was suffering and I didn't make it any easier for her. Sliding my hand under the blanket, I searched for hers to hold it. Her small cold fingers clenched around mine and she pressed her cheek against the back of my hand.
„We managed to stop the bleeding but the taint will still kill the baby,“ Solona blurted out after a moments hesitation. „I'm... I'm sorry.“
Doom!
DOOM!
Can't say I didn't expect it. But there's a mighty big difference between fearing something could happen and the real thing.
„Isn't there anything we... you could do?“ There was such a huge lump in my throat, I hardly could press the words past it.
Wynne said „No!“ same time Avernus said „Yes!“
„There is no cure for the taint,“ Wynne snapped furiously. She and Avernus were like cats and dogs. Couldn't blame her. Avernus and his dubious methods put me into templar mode whenever Rori as much as mentioned him.
„I never claimed there was.“ Avernus snorted. „Not yet.“
„But you said...,“ I began only to be cut short by the ancient mage.
„Don't you have other patients to take care of? Any political decisions to make?“ Avernus pointedly stared at Wynne, the Guerrins and his apprentices. Jowan and Solona got the hint and hurriedly excused themselves.
„An heir is essential for the stability of this nation. If there is a possibility to save this child...“
„Eamon, heir or not, it's their decision,“ Teagan said firmly as he led his brother out of the room.
„Do you really want to listen to whatever this... person has to say?“ Wynne grouched, arms crossed in front of her chest.
„Bloody blast it, yes!“ Rori's muffled voice sounded from beneath the blankets.
„My dear, I think you are making a mistake,“ Wynne preached on her way towards the door.
Rori snorted loudly in reply. I could hear her rant under her breath: „Always knowing better, always lecturing. Try walking in my shoes before you judge me! Maker!“
„Spit it out already,“ I sighed when Avernus rolled his wheelchair as close to the bed as possible and regarded us with undisguised curiousity.
„First tell me how you survived slaying the archdemon,“ the old geezer chuckled.
„Err... by not dying?“ I offered a sheepish grin. Not as dorky as Rori's but I of course had much more experience in playing the fool. She totally exaggerated it.
„There's magic involved, right?“ Avernus went on, completely unperturbed by our feigned ignorance.
„I don't know...,“ I began,
„Don't waste my time. I'm running short of it and so are you.“ He drummed his fingers at the armrest of his wheelchair. Rori and I looked at each other. She shrugged, I shrugged. I wiggled my eyebrows, she frowned. I shook my head, she nodded. Yeah, we couldn't have made it any more obvious. „Are you afraid I could blackmail you?“ Avernus coughed. It took me some time to figure that raspy sound actually was a laugh. „I am not interested in your political games. I am a man of science, that's what you spared me for, didn't you? The knowledge you gained could be very helpful for my researches – and thus helpful to you.“
„Okay, fine,“ Rori said after some more shrugging and eyebrow wiggling. „We cheated. It was a ritual.“
„I knew it!“ Avernus slapped his thighs. „Tell me everything about it! I need to know every tiny detail you can remember.“
So we told him about Flemeth and her daughter, about the stone circle and Mythal. He even had Rori draw the runes Morrigan had etched into my skin. And I had to describe the actual ritual... I stammered and stuttered, blushed a deeper shade of pink and drove Avernus crazy by beating around the bush instead of calling a spade a spade.
„Hmph, that's hardly anything I could work with!“ Avernus complained sullenly after our confession. „Too bad you aren't mages. That could have made a difference.“ He pocketed Rori's sketches and steepled his fingers, regarding us once more as if we were frogs about to get dissected. „It is astonishing you are with child to begin with. Even without slaying the archdemon your odds to have a healthy child would have been long. When you slayed the archdemon, you absorbed an abundance of taint, more than your body can handle for long – and more than enough to poison your baby.“
„But... you said there is a cure?“ Rori's voice trembled. She kneaded her fingers nervously until I took her hands in mine.
„There isn't,“ Avernus said matter-of-factly. For him it came all down to science and researches, there was no place for any emotions. It was both disturbing and soothing... Rori and I already were close to hysterics. Avernus grounded us. “I can try to keep your baby alive until it is born. I cannot guarantee the success and it requires some sacrifices... and your baby will still be born with the taint.“
„Blood magic!? You do recall I was trained as a templar, right?“ I growled menacingly. Avernus didn't seem impressed. I blame it on the nightshirt and the splinted leg. What could I have done to him? Swat him with a pillow?
„You saved your own life by taking part in a blood magic ritual. If that's how templars act nowadays, the order has relented,“ Avernus retorted with a nasty smirk.
„Why use blood magic when it cannot save the baby? The taint would kill it anyway,“ Rori pointed out.
„The baby could undergo the Joining.“
„WHAT!?“
By the love of Lady Andraste!
„Haha, funny old man!“ I laughed. Neither Rori nor Avernus joined in.
Blast!
„A Grey Warden baby, that's... that's absolutely insane,“ I croaked.
„If my calculations are correct,“ Avernus went on, unperturbed by our shocked expressions and I shaking my head no until I felt dizzy, „the baby should develope a resistance against the taint throughout the pregnancy – in case it survives. It wouldn't be immune but more likely to turn into a ghoul than die after birth. My latest research allowed me to refine the Joining. It should not be as deadly anymore as it used to be. We didn't yet have the opportunity to test it...“
„You want to use my baby as a guinea-pig?“ I snarled furiously.
„No, that's what Darrian and Gilmore are for.“ Avernus dismissed my suspicion with a wave of his hand.
„Charming,“ I muttered.
„And I would have another five months to improve the potion before the baby is born,“ Avernus added excitedly. „The odds of survival should be fifty percent.“
„Bloody blast it!“ Rori breathed. „That's your solution? Are you nuts?“
„There's no more but a thin line between genius and insanity,“ Avernus grinned toothlessly.
„Merciful Andraste!“ I groaned as I tried to imagine the consequences. „As a Grey Warden the baby would have the same nightmares we have! Always. I cannot imagine what this would do to a child. It's insane! How could we condemn our child to such a cruel fate? Not to mention the Calling!“
„Isn't there anything else we could do?“ Rori asked meekly. She disliked Avernus' idea as much as I did but she wasn't yet willing to give up. That's Rori to a T for you.
„This is the solution I have to offer.“ The shrivelled mage shrugged. „There isn't another one I would know of.“
Blast! That was something to digest. I was stunned, staring stupidly at the wall across the room. I was feeling so numb inside that very moment... I hadn't had time to get used to the idea of being a father. It was nothing I ever wasted much thought on. Guess, I was much too young back then. Even after becoming king and with Eamon nagging me about the heir, I never really imagined myself as a father. There was too much going on and when Rori finally told me, I was half unconscious.
Rori just sat there and chewed at her lower lip. Defiance was written all over her face. She was far from accepting the inevitable. „There has to be another way!“
„Rori,“ I whispered softly, hugging her tightly. „We cannot always win. Sometimes we lose.“
„I've lost too much already,“ Rori hissed, going rigid in my arms. „If there's a way avoiding death when slaying the archdemon, then there is a way to save this baby!“ She pulled the blanket over her head once more, muttering to herself.
„Rori?“ I asked after some time had passed.
„Shush! I'm thinking!“
Avernus dozed off in his wheelchair, I tried to scratch my bandaged leg beneath the bandage – and finally noticed my dear companions had adorned my bandage with best wishes for me to get well soon while I had been asleep. Oghren had drawn a huge... uhm... asparagus with two... err.. circles at the bottom and scribbled 'Keep it up!' onto my leg. 'Softie! - Best Wishes from Shale' stood next to 'You're on your last leg, Alistair, my royal friend'. 'Hmph. Not bad for a basra.' was to be found on my shin, bracketed by two large paw prints. 'I pray for you – Leliana' came in a very twirly handwriting. Wynne had left several 'Stay in bed!' and 'Don't scratch!' notes all across my leg.
Charming.
I chuckled, thinking fondly of my companions while I squeezed a pencil into the bandage to scratch my ichting skin.
„HA! The Urn of Sacred Ashes!“ Rori blurted out, suddenly emerging from the blanket. Startled I broke the pencil, half of it now stuck inside my bandage. Blast! While I tried to wiggle it out with my little finger, Rori excitedly bounced up and down in bed – until Avernus snapped at her to lay down and keep still for fuck's sake.
„If the Guardian allowed us to cure Eamon, he certainly won't deny us saving an innocent child,“ Rori rejoiced. She wiggled around in bed giddily until a scathing glare from the mage had her freeze. „Andraste's ashes certainly would cure the baby – and us,“ she explained her trail of thoughts. „They could cure the taint, right? Without any blood magic involved.“
„Haven is several days away,“ I mused, pulling forcefully at my now stuck finger. „Many darkspawn haven't yet returned to the Deep Roads. They could cause another delay.“
„The baby won't survive that long,“ Avernus said matter-of-factly. „We have done the utmost but our magic is already fading. It cannot protect the child for much longer. I admit, the ashes of Andraste herself could indeed be an artefact so powerful it could cure the taint itself. However, even if Rori could travel – and she can't – you'd never get there in time – unless you allow me to perform the ritual I mentioned before.“
„The one that requires a sacrifice?“ By the look on Rori's face she was indeed considering this option. Maker! Even I was considering it – if only for a brief moment.
„One each day,“ Avernus corrected.
„One each... Maker!“ Any consideration went out of the window that moment.
„Don't you have any convicts awaiting their execution?“ Avernus suggested. „It doesn't matter how they die, does it?“
„It doesn't, right?“ Rori agreed coolly.
„Whoa! Wait! Rori, I need to talk to you. Alone. Now.“
„Does your conscience prick you?“ the old mage chuckled as he rolled his wheelchair towards the door. „Aren't you king now? A conscience is nothing you can afford, son. But you are one to find out the hard way.“
I turned to Rori as soon as we were alone. She pouted, tears streaming down her face. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, she refused to look at me.
Awesome!
„Rori, please, this is not the right thing to do – and you know it...Blast! Could you perhaps give me a hand?“
„I am trying to save our baby!“ she snapped. „Avernus is right – who cares how some convicts die?“ Unnervedly she examined my hand. „I'll have to cut it open.“
„You can't be serious!“
„Well, we could also cut the finger off but opening the bandage sounds like the better solution to me.“
„That's not what I mean.“ Despite the situation I couldn't help grinning. I sobered quite quickly though. “Blood magic, Rori! The real über-evil... dreck! How can you even consider this?“ I was tempted to grab her by her shoulders and shake her – if not for my finger still stuck in that blasted bandage.
„Why not?“ Rori cried. She had the cutest hiccup as she sobbed. Maker, she was so young and vulnerable, she had endured too much already. And yet she still tried to live her dream – cost what it may. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to save our child, too... but... not at any cost. „In the end they are dead. They can at least be of some use in the process!“
„You have seen blood magic at work, Uldred, Caladrius – do you really want to be like them?“
„It's nothing like that!“ Rori muttered defiantly, finally freeing my finger. „Ferelden needs stability. The succession to the throne is of vital importance...“
„Finding excuses now like Loghain?“ I cut her short. „Rori, Avernus isn't even sure his ritual works!“
„Bloody blast it!“ she screamed, drumming her small fists agains my chest until I caught them in my hands. “We at least should give it a try!“
„Rori, you remember when we found Branka in the Deep Roads?“ I whispered breathlessly, pressing her hands to my chest. „You made me promise to stop you should you ever overstep the line and become like her.“
Slapping her across the face couldn't have silenced her more effectively. She stared at me, eyes puffed, cheeks smeared with tears, all snotty nosed and her hair a tousled mess of red curls. She didn't say a word, just cried silently and hugged herself.
A pang of guilt stabbed my heart. Maker preserve me! If she had begged me then, I would have faltered.
But she didn't. She slumped against me, clinging to me as she cried. And I held her close, crying with her. This was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make in my whole life. It was the right thing to do and yet it felt so terribly wrong, it tore me apart inside.
That much for 'And they lived happily ever after'!
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