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peopleofthedas2010-12-04 11:48 am
Vir Lath Sa'vunin Chapters Twenty-Seven and Twenty-Eight
A Dalish-centric AU gen fic featuring two Mahariel Wardens, one bastard prince, and lingering ghosts.
Title: Vir Lath Sa'vunin (We Love One More Day)
Rating: T (Language and Violence)
Authors: ![[personal profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
twist_shimmy and lenna_nightrunner
Post Word Count: 2670
Summary: When their parents died, Tesni Mahariel was left to raise her brother Caerwyn with the help of the rest of their clan. True to their penchant for getting into trouble, Caerwyn and Tamlen went hunting one day and ran afoul of a mirror, of all things. The next thing Tesni knew, Caerwyn had been recruited by the Grey Wardens. As if she’d let some shemlen just take her brother away! Determined to keep Caerwyn safe, Tesni goes after them, and antics ensue. She’ll stop the Blight to protect her family, Caerwyn will help--grumbling all the while--and Alistair will do his best to bond with his tattooed and bristly new brethren. When all is said and done, the blurred lines between friendship and blood bonds will draw them down a path that will change all three of them forever.
In this installment, bridges are burned, plans are formed, and the ground drops out from beneath our heroes' feet.
TESNI
After my interactions with the bann and the dead boyking, I wasn’t prepared for a noble who didn’t smile. Granted, I was the reason his wife was dead and the mage responsible for his poisoning was back in the grasp of the Circle. He had reasons not to smile, and the fact that his frown deepened when we all began to discuss Loghain was at first reassuring.
Caerwyn, Alistair, and I stood in the great hall and looked up at the arl. I had thought we would have this conversation in his study, but he appeared to prefer a position where we had to literally look up at him. This, of course, did little to set Caerwyn at ease, and the range of expressions on Alistair’s face were fascinating. I did my best to keep my expression bland, but little of what Eamon was saying proved agreeable.
“How far have you progressed on gathering troops?”
“The Circle has promised mages, and Alistair told me you lost no men at Ostagar.”
Eamon crossed his arms. “What is it you intend to do with this army?”
I glanced at Alistair. “Stop the Blight.”
“That will not be possible without taking on Loghain.”
My brother scowled. “So we kill him.”
Eamon shook his head. “You can’t use a force dedicated to eradicating darkspawn to incite a civil war.”
“But he is the reason why we don’t have an army now,” I replied, and received another headshake for my troubles.
“No, we must outmaneuver Loghain politically.”
“Oh, yes, because that has worked so well for this country in the past,” Zevran muttered, and drew the ire of every shemlen in the room.
Eamon stared him down, and then pretended to ignore him. “What we must do is submit someone with a stronger claim to the throne.”
“Is there something wrong with the queen?” I asked. Alistair had mentioned there being a queen, hadn’t he?
“Anora is capable, but common. Ferelden deserves a Theirin on the throne.”
“We don’t ha--” My eyes widened at the same time Alistair began protesting. “You can’t be serious.”
“Alistair is a son of Maric. He could draw support from Loghain.”
Ridiculous. “He’s a Grey Warden.”
“And he doesn’t want to be king!” Alistair interjected. “Let’s not forget that.”
Eamon sighed. “Alistair, if you do not do this, I will be forced to support Loghain. Is that what you want?”
“N-no, but....” Alistair trailed off angrily, and I stopped resisting the urge to cross my arms.
“You can’t make him king. Grey Wardens are politically neutral,” I reminded him.
“So you say,” Eamon said with a frown, “but in reality that never proves true.” His eyes dismissed me and pinned on Alistair. “This is the only way to defeat Loghain.”
“No, it’s not.” Caerwyn stepped in front of his brother, keeping Alistair from clear view of Eamon. I agreed silently; it couldn’t be. I wasn’t about to agree to a plan that made my new brother unhappy. He was my clan, and we made decisions together.
“You would honestly side with the man who poisoned you?” I asked.
“For the good of the country, I would have to.” His eyes found mine, and I shook my head. He was bluffing. No man who resented the absence of the mage who poisoned him would back the man responsible for the plot.
“You’re lying.” Caerwyn’s eyes narrowed, and he shook off my hand when I put it to his shoulder to silence him.
“Young man, watch where you hurl accusations.” Eamon kept his voice light, but there was a tightness around his eyes that had not been there before. “Alistair, do not make me make this decision.”
I heard the clink of armor as he shuffled awkwardly behind my brother and me. “You can’t have him,” I said.
The guards lining the edge of the hall were staring at my hands, so I kept them at my sides. Caerwyn felt the tension just as I did and scratched at the back of his head, whistling.
We go in?
I shook my head slightly and waited for Eamon to respond.
“I am grateful for what you did for me and my son, but I cannot let you tear our country apart via civil war.”
“That was Loghain’s doing, not ours.”
“You intend to make the problem worse.”
Alistair shook his head. “We’re just trying to stop the Blight, my lord.”
“And I am trying to keep our country whole. Forgive me, but I cannot give you aid against the Blight if you refuse to help me heal Ferelden.”
I half-expected a fight, but he gave us supplies, let us pack, and sent us on our way with another apology. The look on the bann’s face as we left was... interesting, but he said nothing as we strode from the main hall, packs in hand.
“What a waste,” Caerwyn said with a scowl. “You said he would help.”
“I was wrong. It happens,” I replied, taking a long drink from my waterskin. “Would you rather I let him make Alistair king?”
Caerwyn snorted, and Alistair scuffed his feet through the dirt of the path leading away from the castle. “Do you think he’d really support Loghain?” he asked. “Even after the poison, and the death of his nephew?”
“Eamon is no coward,” Leliana mused. “He loves Ferelden.”
“More than family?”
I clasped Alistair’s shoulder. “That’s why leaders shouldn’t oversee more than one clan.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at me weakly, and I ruffled his hair.
“Which begs the question,” Zevran interjected, “what does our Warden mean when she talks about clan? Her fellow Wardens, or are the rest of us so lucky?”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “All of you.”
Shale gave a low chuckle. “I am certainly no family of its. It is far too squishy.”
“Oh, Shale, must you be so literal?” Wynne looked up at the golem and sighed.
Sten surprised us all by speaking without being directly addressed. “A dangerous idea, Warden. A common goal does not turn misfits into family.”
Zevran laughed. “‘The family that kills together stays together,’ you know.”
“I know nothing of the sort,” Sten replied.
“Ah, I grew up with such sayings. Alas, you are not a Crow!”
“That is obvious.”
“Quiet, all of you.” I made a slicing motion across my neck. “No more talking until we make camp.”
By the time the sun had set, no one was still in a talkative mood, so dinner was quiet enough for me to hear the heavy tread of an animal in the trees. Because of this, I was able to warn my companions not to shoot when my bear lumbered into the ring of light provided by the fire.
“Andaran atish’an,[1] Da’rlasha.” I fell to my knees and inspected her healing wounds as she snuffled at my hands and hair, asking for food. I gave her half of the food on my plate and then spent the evening acquainting the rest of the group with her for safety’s sake.
Sten was the last to come over and be introduced. As he presented his hand to my bear, his violet eyes fixed on my tattoo. “Is the bear part of the clan, as well?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “Foolishness.”
Sten spent the rest of the night silently gazing at the fire, while Caerwyn attempted to get Alistair over his fear of bears. I watched in difficult silence until Leliana sat beside me and asked to hear a Dalish story.
“Caerwyn says that you are quite a storyteller,” she said with a smile, and I soon found myself in the center of my companions, telling them a tale of the Trickster Wolf and a poor, unsuspecting hunter. It was nice to make people laugh, and before I knew it the time had come to assign watches and send everyone to bed.
I took first watch with Zevran and Da’rlasha, and was feeling rather drowsy until a twig snapped and sent me scrambling for my bow. Zevran stepped into the shadows while I nocked an arrow and aimed toward the sound.
Seconds later there was a scuffle, and Zevran reappeared with a shem in tow, one hand buried in his hair, the other holding a dagger to his throat.
“Let him go, Zev.” The man was unarmed.
“Much obliged, Warden.” The man rubbed at his throat. “I must say, you’re a hard woman to find. Levi Dryden’s the name, and I’ve been trying to catch up to you for weeks now.”
I lowered my bow. “Why?”
As he spoke, our next step became clear to me: it was time to give my clan a home.
Twenty-Eight: I Went Out, Felt the Sun on My Face. Then a Tug on My Leg, and Now I'm Back in the Cave. (Superchunk)
CAERWYN
It'd never felt so good to be on the road again. Tesni led, and we followed. We didn't need kings or nobles or even keepers; we were a new and strange kind of clan, and she held us together.
As usual, we fought occasional battles on the road during the day, and sometimes one during the night thanks to our blood, but for the most part we were able to make good time, which we knew was essential if we were going to carry out Tesni's plan.
Which was to get to Warden's Keep: a place the new shem said used to belong to the Fereldan Grey Wardens before they were wiped out. Now it’d be our clan’s home, and from there we’d figure out how to take on Loghain and the darkspawn and anything else that stood in our way to the archdemon.
Three days traveling and fighting was fun again. Everyone was in top fighting form: Zevran danced and Leliana sang, Sten and Alistair hacked and blocked, Dalasen and Da’rlasha ripped and clawed, I dodged and sliced, Tesni’s arrows flew, Shale shook the earth, and Wynne healed us so quickly we hardly had time to feel the pain of our wounds. We were almost a proper clan.
And then it all went wrong.
Even after covering a lot of ground that day, everyone was still so full of energy. We’d had some good fights and a hot meal and were making good progress. As she often did, Leliana played for us, and it wasn’t long before Tesni joined her in singing.
Zevran approached Tesni at the end of a song and held his hand out to her. “Come, my Warden,” he said. “One who sings so beautifully must surely dance as well.”
Tesni eyed him suspiciously and he chuckled.
“Go on, Tesni,” Leliana said. “I have not played for dancers in a long time.”
When the music began, Tesni offered her hand to Zevran and they immediately fell into step with the rhythm of the song. Wynne and Alistair clapped their hands in time with the music and I watched as Tesni’s face grew brighter with every movement.
How long had it been since I’d seen her dance?
‘Impressive’ wouldn’t begin to describe it. Zevran was almost as good without knives as he was with them, and I’d forgotten how graceful Tesni could be. It was as much a duel as it was a dance. One moment they were opponents and the next they were comrades. It was impossible to tell who was better.
When the song ended there was a call for another, but when Zevran took Tesni’s hand again she leaned toward him and whispered something. He smiled at her, nodded, and sat down next to Alistair.
Before I caught on to what was happening Tesni was in front of me, holding out her hands. I looked up at her and shook my head. She couldn’t be serious.
“Ar souveri,”[2] I said, and yawned.
“Liar.”
She grabbed my hand and hauled me to my feet.
“Tesni, I don’t kn--”
“You do know how to dance,” she insisted. “You just don’t know you know how.”
I scowled and tried not to look at our clan members as she took my other hand in hers. And then the music began, and we were off. Well, she was off. I was looking down at her feet and struggling to follow along.
But the others began to clap in time again and Tesni was actually laughing and it got easier.
“There, da’vhenan,” she said. “Didn’t I tell you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh too as I admitted she’d been right with a nod. Her joy was infectious and I grinned like an idiot as Tesni led me in circles and dips and we stopped making it try to look like a proper dance and just let our feet move.
But then we felt it--all three of us at once. Alistair stood up at the same time Tesni and I stopped dancing abruptly and broke apart, trying to catch our breaths as our blood stung and burned in our veins. Leliana stopped playing and the others looked at us.
“Armor on,” said Tesni, and everyone immediately got up and obeyed. We were all back out of our tents in our armor with our weapons at the ready seconds before the shrieks attacked.
The fight didn’t seem like anything special. I sliced my way through the fray, helping Zevran and Leliana distract some of the shrieks so they wouldn’t all attack Alistair and Sten at once. Strangely, when we’d taken one down and I spun to face another, it ran.
So I ran after it. But when I’d caught up with it and forced it to turn and face me, I stopped dead in my tracks.
No.
My knives fell out of my hands and dropped to the dirt.
No, it couldn’t be, no, no, Creators, no.
“Lethallin,” a horrible voice choked out. And when its eyes met mine there was no way I could deny it was him.
“Ta--” I swallowed. “Tamlen?”
“Tamlen’din,” the corrupted voice said, and my chest ached as I saw in my mind the Tamlen from the Gauntlet. The one who’d told us he was dead. Who’d told us to let go. Whatever that thing’d been, it’d lied to us.
“Kill me.”
He was looking down at the daggers I’d dropped and I shook my head in horror.
“I--” I choked on my words. “I-I can’t. Abelas, lethallin, e-emma....”
“Ar halam.[3] Please, brother,” he begged. “End it.”
“Caerwyn?” Tesni’s voice. “Caerwyn, wha--”
I heard her bow clatter to the ground behind me. My legs suddenly couldn’t support me anymore and I fell to my knees.
Tamlen covered his face and turned away from Tesni. “Don’t.... Don’t look at me.”
“Tamlen?”
Tesni reached out toward him and for a moment it looked like he was going to attack her before he jerked himself away.
“Stop me!” he said, and it wasn’t until then that I realized why he was there. I closed my eyes and I could feel Tesni next to me. And in front of me, making my blood burn...
Darkspawn.
“Please, emma vhenan,” Tamlen said to Tesni. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She hardly paused before she answered. “You won’t have to.”
Tesni’s eyes closed as she reached out and pressed her palm to his cheek. With her other hand she took one of her knives from its sheath.
“Ma serannas,”[4] he whispered, and closed his eyes.
I saw her straighten her shoulders and take a deep breath.
No.
“No!”
But she gripped her knife and surged forward with a howl. The blade flashed, blood sprayed, and as Tamlen staggered she gripped his head and twisted like we used to do with kills so they’d feel no pain as they died.
I looked away before I heard the sickening sound of his neck breaking. Then the thud of a heavy body hitting the ground. It was over.
Tesni walked back to me in silence. She let one bloody hand fall onto the top of my head like she was going to ruffle my hair, but then it slipped off.
I couldn’t look up at her. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t--
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I laughed like a drain when I saw the picture and the text beneath it.
And oh, how often have I wished that I had a choice about agreeing with Eamon or not. I hate being forced into things.
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Now this is an interesting development. How on earth do they finish out the Blight without Eamon.
Fascinating.
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Since you neatly skirted around a near-pointless trip to Denerim, we haven't seen how Alistair deals with Goldanna yet. With a clan at his back, his desperate need for family should be somewhat sated, which could make his interactions with her very different from what we see in-game.
And with a family and their approval already in-place, I wonder if he doesn't find a way to "self-harden" and take control of his own fate, along the way.
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Actually, I honestly don't know. That's Shimmy's responsibility.
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Ah well, they can all run off together instead.
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And Tamlen made me have a sad. :(
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i hate that scene.
*cries all over again*
stupid eamon. stupid darkspawn.
;_;
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I've only played through the scene once, so I had to go watch tutorial videos a couple of times to remember what happened and get a feel for it, and it just hurt.
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