Fanfic: First Day

[amhran_comhrac]

Title: First Day
Series: Apostates of Amaranthine (although I mucked up my own timeline a bit so the holiday theme would work)
Characters:  f!Amell (Maggie), Alistair, appearances by Anders, Zevran and Oghren
Rating: E
Warning: Bittersweet angsty nonsense that is rather unlike me.
Word Count: 1080
Summary:  I was writing this for the holiday theme post but, well, seven hundred words isn't enough for me to make a grocery list.  I'm amazed it's barely over 1000 considering my chapters usually top out at six times that length.
I am still trapped in Boston, damn this snow.  So here's a nice dose of Holiday Angst.
 

First Day, 31 Dragon

Maggie shivered, hunched near the fire. 

“You know it’s First Day,” Alistair said.

“Huh,” was all Maggie said in reply.

“When I was a boy in the monastery we would always have a big party on First Day,” he went on, eyes taking on an almost nostalgic look.  “We’d get drinking chocolate, and a big meal, and no chores.  And all the young boys would get a present- some kind of toy, usually.  It was the best day of the year.”

“In Orlais there were great banquets,” Leliana contributed.  “Right after the midnight Chantry service.  And children leave their shoes by the hearth, so when they wake they’re filled with sweets.”

“Musicians play in Antiva,” Zevran added.  “We feast on figs, dates, and honey that have been baked into cakes and cookies.  Children wake hoping La Befana, the old woman, has left them a present if they were good, instead of coal if they were bad.”

They turned to look at Maggie.  She shrugged.  “They cancel classes for the day,” she said.

“That’s it?”

“We get real lemon for our tea in the morning, and chocolate which I’ve since discovered isn’t a very good example of chocolate.  It was always kind of… gritty."

“Why do I even ask,” Alistair mused.

“Because it reassures you that you wouldn’t have wanted to be a templar,” she replied with a confident nod.

“That must be it,” he said.  “Well, thank you for not telling me the stories of all the fun times in the Circle to make me doubt my decision.” 

Maggie grinned, raising her mug of weak coffee.  “Happy to help.”

“Happy First Day, mage,” he said, grinning as snow fell on the group.

“You too, templar,” came the response, accompanied by a snowball hitting Alistair squarely in the nose.

First Day, 32 Dragon

“You must talk with him eventually!” Zevran paced the floor.

“No,” she said stubbornly.  “He hates me.  He’ll never forgive me for sparing Loghain.  Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, so you could die instead?  Or him?  Brilliant plan, that one.”

She jumped from her chair, the heels of her fancy new boots clicking on the polished floors.  “What do you want me to do, Zev?  Tie him down and make him listen to me?  He’s the bloody king, I can’t even get within fifty feet of him without an appointment!”

“He’s your best friend!”

She turned to the window, looking out at the ravaged city now blanketed by snow.  “Not anymore.”

First day 33 Dragon

“You all right?” Alistair asked, looking across the table.

“Fine.” Maggie’s voice was unusually quiet, eyes rimmed with red.  She gulped down what might have been her fifth glass of wine.

“You’re a lousy liar,” he said.  “Come on, try and cheer up.  I know you miss him, but this is the last First Day we’ll spend together.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “I’m moving to Amaranthine, not the moon, Alistair.  I’m sure we’ll still see each other.”

“Ah, you’ll be the big important Warden Commander.  No time for your old friends.”

That made her grin, finally, and Alistair sagged with relief.  “Says the king!” she laughed, throwing a chunk of bread across the table.  One of the guards made a noise of horror, followed by a sound of choking as he tried to resist bursting into laughter; the king had responded to the treasonous assault by using his spoon to catapult potatoes towards the mage.  Crumbs sprinkled down on the pair, giving the dining room a white blanket to match the grounds visible through the window.

First Day, 36 Dragon

Anders ran over to Maggie and grabbed her by the waist, swinging her around.  “Thank you!” he exclaimed.  “These are the best boots I’ve ever seen!”  His feet were encased with the glossy blue-black of dragonwing.  She laughed and kissed him.

Nathaniel and Sigrun walked into the main hall, still brushing snow from their shoulders, just in time to hear Oghren shout from the dining hall.  “Come on, you nughumpers!  Time to eat!”

First Day, 44 Dragon

“Presents! Presents!”  Oghren doubled over with laughter as his daughter attempted to scale the Warden Commander while she held a box above her head.  The girl had almost managed to knock her down when Anders reached over and rescued the box, elevating it another foot in the air.  “No fair!” she cried.  “Hold it at dwarf height!”

“What did I tell you about the tall folks?” Oghren said.

“Higher center of gravity!” she announced before barreling forward, knocking a surprised Anders flat on his back and rescuing the box.

Sitting up, he brushed white powder from the fur at his shoulders.  “I should have expected that.”

“You should have,” Maggie agreed.

First Day, 57 Dragon

Anders laughed, catching Maggie as she slipped on the ice.  “Watch out, you’ll break a hip!”

“You are so dead,” she said, wagging a finger at him.  “You’re five years older than me!”

Alistair walked over, face ruddy from the cold and grey streaking his beard.  “Is this guy giving you a hard time?” he asked.

“Isn’t he always?” Maggie said, pushing a lock of salt and pepper hair behind her ear.

“I’m glad you came.” Alistair’s voice was unusually quiet as they sat in the royal box.  Below them the First Day jousts went on as usual.  “This… this is probably my last First Day.”

Her head snapped up.  Eyes wide, she looked over at him.  “You mean…?”

Alistair nodded.  “It’s time.”

She was silent for a moment.  “I’m sorry,” Maggie finally managed, wiping her eye and squeezing his hand.

“It’s all right,” Alistair said.  “I’m ready.  I’m…” he shrugged.  “I don’t know, I’m tired.  I feel like I’m done.”  He glanced over.  “You?”

“Not yet,” she said quietly before glancing over at Anders.  “I suspect… but he hasn’t said anything yet.”  He was watching the jousters, cheering as Prince Duncan knocked his opponent from his horse.

“Already?”

“He was thirty when… that’s too old, really.  I didn’t know it then, but it gives you less time.”

“If he does, will you?”

“You have to ask?”

Alistair looked over at her.  “No, I don’t.”  Leaning back in his chair he smiled suddenly.  “Remember that First Day during the blight… you didn’t even know people gave gifts?”

“We didn’t even have enough food to make a proper meal, much less a feast!”

“Things have sure changed,” he mused.

“Some things,” she said.

“Some things,” he agreed.  “Happy First Day, mage.”

“You too, templar.”