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peopleofthedas2011-05-23 10:53 pm
bamftastik) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-05-23 10:53 pm
No More Heroes, Chapter 17
Title: No More Heroes, Chapter 17
Characters: Alistair, Morrigan, Anders, Oghren, Nathaniel, Leliana, Loghain/Justice, Zevran
Rating: T
Words: 1,500
Summary: Thanks to Morrigan, Alistair can perform the Joining for volunteers Anders, Nathaniel and Oghren. But he's not happy about it.
Previous Chapters
He had sworn never to do this again. Maker, he had sworn.
But Leliana had begged and Howe had made it a mark of honor and Oghren had just laughed. Alistair had sworn never to make another Grey Warden, never to condemn another to die. Yet here he stood, waiting beneath the trees with the familiar cup in his hands. She had recovered it from Ostagar, had given it to him. And then She had died.
It was Morrigan who had made this possible, Morrigan who had taken the choice away from him. Alistair's hands clenched around the Joining chalice as he spotted her striding up from the farmhouse. He would hate her for it until the day he died.
By all accounts that would probably be soon. He could just make out the city through the trees, but he could see nothing of the archdemon. He should feel relief, he knew. If any of them survived, he would be amongst brothers once again. But he knew what being a Warden meant now, knew what it meant in truth. Sooner or later, what he did today would doom them all.
Morrigan's injuries looked to have been healed, but he turned his eyes away as soon as she crested the ridge. The others had already gathered, Wynne and Sten and Shale, Scraps pacing restlessly between them. He spared Howe a solemn nod when he appeared from the trees, but grimaced as Anora appeared at his side. Oghren and Zevran followed soon after, the elf catching the dwarf as he stumbled. Choking back a belch, Oghren gave Alistair a wink.
They waited only for Anders now. Alistair felt he should say something, but he knew of no words other than those solemn few. The memory caused him to pinch shut his eyes. The last time he had said them...
"Is this not normally a secret ritual?"
Maker, he had forgotten. The voice sent shivers up his spine, his knuckles growing white around the cup. But Alistair forced himself to breathe, to open his eyes. He was not the only Warden here.
Loghain watched him, cold and expressionless.
"Does any of this look normal to you?"
"Hm." He inclined his head. "In times of war, there are few secrets. Though we might try to exercise discretion."
"That's funny, I don't remember asking for your opinion." He gestured to his companions, old and new. "They know. They know more about it than you."
"This body's memories..."
"Should have stayed dead." He turned away, working the stiffness from his fingers. "As far as I'm concerned, the last Warden died on top of Fort Drakon."
"And where does that leave you?"
"Standing in the woods with a dead man and a big, creepy cup." Anders appeared at a trot, leading Leliana by the arm. He grinned. "Sorry we're late."
Zevran tsked. "Leliana, my dear. Your skirt..."
She looked down, noticed that it was backwards and gave a little squeak. Straightening it, she shot the elf a red-cheeked glare. Anders, though, only laughed, kissing her on the forehead before turning to join Oghren and Nathaniel.
Oghren elbowed the mage with a chuckle.
"Right. I..." Alistair looked between them. He could think of nothing to say, nothing but... "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Uh huh."
"Nope." Anders shrugged. "But what's a little taint between friends?"
Oghren chortled. "Good motto for a Warden. Have to remember that one."
"Perhaps we'll emblazon it on our tunics. Form a club."
Nathaniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Could we just get on with it?"
The hope of Ferelden. Alistair supposed he wasn't much better. But again his eyes strayed back toward the city. If relief was to be had it was long in coming.
The glance chanced to bring his gaze to Loghain's again. The spirit watched him still, taking a slow step forward. "Is there something I must do?"
"No. Just... go away. I can do it. I've done it before." He swallowed hard. "Join us..." Each word came heavier than the last, each one threatening to choke him anew. Even then he had watched Her. Not Jory, not Daveth, only Her. She hadn't looked afraid, not like him, not like any of them. She had been, he knew, She had told him so herself. But that was later, just before he had...
Nathaniel stepped forward. Had he really said the words already? But Howe was taking the chalice from his hands now, bringing it slowly to his lips. He jerked, stumbling backward and falling to his knees. It was all Alistair could do to remember to catch the cup.
He had betrayed her. And now he betrayed her again. "I'm sorry," he whispered as Howe collapsed onto his back.
But the man breathed; he would live. Anora rushed forward to kneel at his side but Alistair barely registered the strangeness of it, choking on a laugh.
Oghren took the cup from him now, pausing a moment to look up at him with a curious expression. "You look more scared than I do."
He blinked. "Scared? You should be."
"But there's not much I can do about it now, is there?" He sniffed the cup, turning it to watch the contents swirl. With a shrug and a sigh, he threw back his head, blood sloshing down his beard.
Alistair had to snatch the cup away. "Maker's breath, save some!"
Oghren grinned beneath eyes gone white. "Now, that's the good stuff." With a belch, he toppled over.
"What is it they say?" Anders stepped forward, nudging Oghren with a boot as the dwarf began to snore. "The Joining kills one in three?"
"About that, yes."
"Lucky me." With a resigned smirk, he brought the cup to his lips.
"Anders."
He paused, raising his eyebrows at Morrigan over the rim. "Yes?"
"After you have recovered... come and see me."
"What?!" Leliana took a step forward, but Zevran grabbed for her sleeve, holding a fistful of straining wool as she struggled against him.
Alistair had almost forgotten that Morrigan was there, but he rounded on her now, putting himself between them. "Wow. Wow. You just don't waste any time, do you?"
"We do not have time to spare."
"What? Is Howe not good enough? Oghren?" He pressed a hand of his forehead. "Maker… of course that's why you wanted us to have the blood, why you wanted us to have the Joining. But you're just trying to help, right? Trying to save us all. Funny that the only thing you have to offer is between your legs."
For a moment, Morrigan looked as though she would strike him. Her breath came sharp through gritted teeth, but she only folded her arms.
But Alistair that stepped forward now, all of the fear, the guilt bubbling anew. "I know why She didn't take you up on your little offer, you know. It's not the blood magic or the fact that it might not even work. It's because She knew that there was no way I'd ever agree to it. Ever. That the thought of you-you... I would rather face a hundred archdemons. I would rather die, rather—"
Her hand pulled back before he could flinch, taking him full across the face. The slap echoed beneath the trees, the sting bringing tears to his eyes.
Morrigan stepped round, turning her gaze to the others. "Wynne. I would speak with you as well."
"Right..." Alistair's spat, his eyes narrowing as he rubbed at his cheek. "I don't think it works that way."
She ignored him. "And any other mages that you deem strong enough."
"What? Wardens aren't enough for you?"
Morrigan whirled, closing the gap between them, her fists balling at her sides as Alistair staggered backward. "Are you truly so big a fool? Has your tainted blood blinded you to all but death and sacrifice? You have refused me already; you need not do so again. But you have your archdemon's blood and you ask how it is that I acquired it. I ask you this... your Grey Warden scrolls. Do you think that they were all that Mother recovered from your ruined Tower? What other treasures were there, I wonder? What knowledge lost to the ages of your order?"
"Knowledge... what knowledge? What are you talking about?"
"But I forget. You do not need my help." She seemed to swell then, shoulders hunching as her body lengthened, the air around her shimmering. When her voice came again, it was strained, inhuman. "The archdemon flies again. How will you fight it? Your Grey Wardens of old had no such trouble. Perhaps there are no true Wardens left."
Alistair took another step back, eyes widening as the light began to fade.
The beast before him shook its head, back bristling as its tail swished in restless anger. It lunged, beak snapping at his face before powerful legs pushed off from the earth, taking to the sky on beating wings. For a moment Morrigan circled above them, disappearing into the clouds with a shrieking roar that had not been heard in ages.
Leliana moved to his side, mouth working as she tried to find the words. "Was that...?"
"A griffon. Maker's breath, that was a griffon."
Characters: Alistair, Morrigan, Anders, Oghren, Nathaniel, Leliana, Loghain/Justice, Zevran
Rating: T
Words: 1,500
Summary: Thanks to Morrigan, Alistair can perform the Joining for volunteers Anders, Nathaniel and Oghren. But he's not happy about it.
Previous Chapters
He had sworn never to do this again. Maker, he had sworn.
But Leliana had begged and Howe had made it a mark of honor and Oghren had just laughed. Alistair had sworn never to make another Grey Warden, never to condemn another to die. Yet here he stood, waiting beneath the trees with the familiar cup in his hands. She had recovered it from Ostagar, had given it to him. And then She had died.
It was Morrigan who had made this possible, Morrigan who had taken the choice away from him. Alistair's hands clenched around the Joining chalice as he spotted her striding up from the farmhouse. He would hate her for it until the day he died.
By all accounts that would probably be soon. He could just make out the city through the trees, but he could see nothing of the archdemon. He should feel relief, he knew. If any of them survived, he would be amongst brothers once again. But he knew what being a Warden meant now, knew what it meant in truth. Sooner or later, what he did today would doom them all.
Morrigan's injuries looked to have been healed, but he turned his eyes away as soon as she crested the ridge. The others had already gathered, Wynne and Sten and Shale, Scraps pacing restlessly between them. He spared Howe a solemn nod when he appeared from the trees, but grimaced as Anora appeared at his side. Oghren and Zevran followed soon after, the elf catching the dwarf as he stumbled. Choking back a belch, Oghren gave Alistair a wink.
They waited only for Anders now. Alistair felt he should say something, but he knew of no words other than those solemn few. The memory caused him to pinch shut his eyes. The last time he had said them...
"Is this not normally a secret ritual?"
Maker, he had forgotten. The voice sent shivers up his spine, his knuckles growing white around the cup. But Alistair forced himself to breathe, to open his eyes. He was not the only Warden here.
Loghain watched him, cold and expressionless.
"Does any of this look normal to you?"
"Hm." He inclined his head. "In times of war, there are few secrets. Though we might try to exercise discretion."
"That's funny, I don't remember asking for your opinion." He gestured to his companions, old and new. "They know. They know more about it than you."
"This body's memories..."
"Should have stayed dead." He turned away, working the stiffness from his fingers. "As far as I'm concerned, the last Warden died on top of Fort Drakon."
"And where does that leave you?"
"Standing in the woods with a dead man and a big, creepy cup." Anders appeared at a trot, leading Leliana by the arm. He grinned. "Sorry we're late."
Zevran tsked. "Leliana, my dear. Your skirt..."
She looked down, noticed that it was backwards and gave a little squeak. Straightening it, she shot the elf a red-cheeked glare. Anders, though, only laughed, kissing her on the forehead before turning to join Oghren and Nathaniel.
Oghren elbowed the mage with a chuckle.
"Right. I..." Alistair looked between them. He could think of nothing to say, nothing but... "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Uh huh."
"Nope." Anders shrugged. "But what's a little taint between friends?"
Oghren chortled. "Good motto for a Warden. Have to remember that one."
"Perhaps we'll emblazon it on our tunics. Form a club."
Nathaniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Could we just get on with it?"
The hope of Ferelden. Alistair supposed he wasn't much better. But again his eyes strayed back toward the city. If relief was to be had it was long in coming.
The glance chanced to bring his gaze to Loghain's again. The spirit watched him still, taking a slow step forward. "Is there something I must do?"
"No. Just... go away. I can do it. I've done it before." He swallowed hard. "Join us..." Each word came heavier than the last, each one threatening to choke him anew. Even then he had watched Her. Not Jory, not Daveth, only Her. She hadn't looked afraid, not like him, not like any of them. She had been, he knew, She had told him so herself. But that was later, just before he had...
Nathaniel stepped forward. Had he really said the words already? But Howe was taking the chalice from his hands now, bringing it slowly to his lips. He jerked, stumbling backward and falling to his knees. It was all Alistair could do to remember to catch the cup.
He had betrayed her. And now he betrayed her again. "I'm sorry," he whispered as Howe collapsed onto his back.
But the man breathed; he would live. Anora rushed forward to kneel at his side but Alistair barely registered the strangeness of it, choking on a laugh.
Oghren took the cup from him now, pausing a moment to look up at him with a curious expression. "You look more scared than I do."
He blinked. "Scared? You should be."
"But there's not much I can do about it now, is there?" He sniffed the cup, turning it to watch the contents swirl. With a shrug and a sigh, he threw back his head, blood sloshing down his beard.
Alistair had to snatch the cup away. "Maker's breath, save some!"
Oghren grinned beneath eyes gone white. "Now, that's the good stuff." With a belch, he toppled over.
"What is it they say?" Anders stepped forward, nudging Oghren with a boot as the dwarf began to snore. "The Joining kills one in three?"
"About that, yes."
"Lucky me." With a resigned smirk, he brought the cup to his lips.
"Anders."
He paused, raising his eyebrows at Morrigan over the rim. "Yes?"
"After you have recovered... come and see me."
"What?!" Leliana took a step forward, but Zevran grabbed for her sleeve, holding a fistful of straining wool as she struggled against him.
Alistair had almost forgotten that Morrigan was there, but he rounded on her now, putting himself between them. "Wow. Wow. You just don't waste any time, do you?"
"We do not have time to spare."
"What? Is Howe not good enough? Oghren?" He pressed a hand of his forehead. "Maker… of course that's why you wanted us to have the blood, why you wanted us to have the Joining. But you're just trying to help, right? Trying to save us all. Funny that the only thing you have to offer is between your legs."
For a moment, Morrigan looked as though she would strike him. Her breath came sharp through gritted teeth, but she only folded her arms.
But Alistair that stepped forward now, all of the fear, the guilt bubbling anew. "I know why She didn't take you up on your little offer, you know. It's not the blood magic or the fact that it might not even work. It's because She knew that there was no way I'd ever agree to it. Ever. That the thought of you-you... I would rather face a hundred archdemons. I would rather die, rather—"
Her hand pulled back before he could flinch, taking him full across the face. The slap echoed beneath the trees, the sting bringing tears to his eyes.
Morrigan stepped round, turning her gaze to the others. "Wynne. I would speak with you as well."
"Right..." Alistair's spat, his eyes narrowing as he rubbed at his cheek. "I don't think it works that way."
She ignored him. "And any other mages that you deem strong enough."
"What? Wardens aren't enough for you?"
Morrigan whirled, closing the gap between them, her fists balling at her sides as Alistair staggered backward. "Are you truly so big a fool? Has your tainted blood blinded you to all but death and sacrifice? You have refused me already; you need not do so again. But you have your archdemon's blood and you ask how it is that I acquired it. I ask you this... your Grey Warden scrolls. Do you think that they were all that Mother recovered from your ruined Tower? What other treasures were there, I wonder? What knowledge lost to the ages of your order?"
"Knowledge... what knowledge? What are you talking about?"
"But I forget. You do not need my help." She seemed to swell then, shoulders hunching as her body lengthened, the air around her shimmering. When her voice came again, it was strained, inhuman. "The archdemon flies again. How will you fight it? Your Grey Wardens of old had no such trouble. Perhaps there are no true Wardens left."
Alistair took another step back, eyes widening as the light began to fade.
The beast before him shook its head, back bristling as its tail swished in restless anger. It lunged, beak snapping at his face before powerful legs pushed off from the earth, taking to the sky on beating wings. For a moment Morrigan circled above them, disappearing into the clouds with a shrieking roar that had not been heard in ages.
Leliana moved to his side, mouth working as she tried to find the words. "Was that...?"
"A griffon. Maker's breath, that was a griffon."
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I love you!
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(AUs are fun!)
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Also, Morrigan wanting Anders to father OldGodBaby amused me far too much. Lol, before he'd even finished his joining.
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That was how I read it. Good. I wanted to make sure I was on the right page.
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