There And Back Again Ch 95 96

Chapter Ninety-Five: Royal Bastard

It was a night to remember; we made love and slept, snuggled and laughed – and made love some more. We fed each other breakfast in bed, thoughtfully ordered by Leliana, and then slept again, waking well into the afternoon.

Alistair gave me a wedding gift in bed; it was a small leather tube like the one he carried his drawings in. Excited, like a kid on Christmas, I opened it at Alistair's nod. Two pieces of vellum – high quality parchment – slid out when I upended the tube.

The first was a picture of me and Alistair. The details of our clothes were hazy, but it was clearly meant to be our wedding. Our hands were clasped, our rings visible; our faces were close together, foreheads almost touching. Alistair's expression was heartrendingly tender, his lips pulled back in a beatific smile. My answering smile was impish but sweet, and my eyes practically sparkled.

"Now I can draw your dress," he explained. "I know on Earth you'd have taken pictures to remember; this is the closest I could get."

I leaned in and kissed him, sweetly and softly, relishing the warmth in my belly from the thoughtful gesture.

The second piece of vellum took my breath away. There were seven, exquisitely detailed figures on the small piece of parchment: myself, Aedan, and what must have been our parents, as well as Fergus, Oriana, and Oren. Our parents were in the back, arms around those of us in front. I sat in the middle, with Aedan on one side and Fergus and Oriana on the other; Oren sat in front of us, leaning against my knees. Both of my brothers, as well as my parents, had either a hand on my shoulder or an arm around me, and we all looked content and happy.

Tears slipped down my face, unbidden, and I pushed the vellum away so as not to get it wet. I pressed my face into Alistair's shoulder and bawled as he carefully put the two pictures back into their tube.

"You drew me a family." I sobbed and clung to him, and he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"Aedan helped. Described what they looked like. He said it was pretty close. I thought we could have frames made and you could hang them wherever we end up."

"Thank you." I pulled him down and pressed my lips against his hard, urgency outweighing subtlety. "Thank you."

I kissed him again, leaning against him until he got the picture and flopped back onto the mattress; I fell with him, then climbed to my knees between his legs and proceeded to show him, in detail, with my fingers and lips and tongue how much I loved my wedding present.

Finally picking ourselves up, after a playful bath, we changed, gathered our wedding attire, and reluctantly left our little sanctuary to face the outside world.

Married now, we decided we no longer needed the fiction of separate rooms, and Alistair asked a servant to help move his things into my slightly larger guest room. Then, on mutual unspoken consent, we went looking for Theron and Aedan. We found both men in a discussion with Eamon in the library; Eamon huffed when we entered, and excused himself, leaving us alone.

I sighed. "He's never getting over this, is he?"

Alistair wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "I don't care. He can go to the Void, for all his opinion matters to me."

I looked up at him in surprise, and he smiled ruefully at me. "I've been thinking about what you – what everyone – has been saying. About how he treated me, growing up, and about how he's acted since this all started. He's important to our cause, so I can be polite, but I'm not going to allow him to treat me like the unwanted bastard anymore, never mind letting him treat you poorly."

He kissed my forehead, and I turned into his embrace, squeezing him close. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not. It's his loss. I have a family, now, and he can't hurt me anymore."

Theron stood and clapped his hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Not that you need it, but I will help in any way I can. And I truly think Eamon will get over it, out of pragmatism if nothing else – he needs me, and knows you have my protection if necessary."

"Speaking of which," Alistair said with a weird almost-smile, "mind telling me what that's all about,

brother

?"

Theron flushed, and gestured to the chairs, seating himself in a comfortable armchair. I snuggled up with Alistair on a small couch, Aedan sitting in a chair to my left.

"I suppose that wasn't the best way to inform you-"

"How about you start at the beginning?" I offered.

Theron nodded. "My reign has been at risk since my coronation because of the lack of an heir. I refused to admit it was a problem for a long time – denial, I suppose, of what I didn't want to hear – and some of those who are less happy with how much influence the MacTir's have at court have used that as an excuse to plot against me. Loghain was good at rooting out those problems, but it didn't change everyone's opinions.

"I don't know what I'm going to do about the situation. Anora...well, it's complicated. But while I figure it out, having an heir will stabilise the succession, appease the bannorn to some extent. You're a Theirin, Alistair, as much as it may pain you. Had I died at Ostagar, it would have been your duty to assume the throne. That won't be the case now, Maker willing, but I still have no heir. So my first act, when I take my throne back, will be to formally recognise you as a Theirin and my heir, until such a time as I have children of my own."

He looked nervous; Alistair looked...shell-shocked.

Wait, is that a thing, in Thedas?

After what had been said the night before, I assumed this would be the case; clearly Alistair had been better at blocking it out.

"I have a question, if I may." Theron nodded, but I turned to Aedan instead. "Why aren't you surprised, dear brother?"

He looked briefly startled, before smiling at me. "I didn't know anything, Sierra, I assure you. I merely assumed that if Theron here was smart, he would do exactly this. Call it political savvy, I suppose."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but reluctantly had to believe him.

It really isn't so surprising, I suppose...

I just hadn't considered it.

Alistair finally stirred. "But, but...I don't want to be King!"

Theron laughed, and Aedan and I grinned. "I suppose we had better make sure I stay alive, then, right, brother?"

"But I'm a Grey Warden. I can't even hold a title."

"As we've heard, it seems Weisshaupt is ready to ignore that rule when required. Having a Grey Warden as a member of the royal family can only benefit them; I'm sure they can be convinced of that. And it isn't like you'd have land titles or an Arling to run."

Alistair didn't look all that reassured, and I giggled. He squeezed me against his side, fingers digging into my ribs, tickling me. "You laugh, Sierra, but just wait until everyone starts calling you Princess."

The appalled look on my face made all three men crack up in hysterical laughter.

I stuck my tongue out at Alistair, then turned to Aedan. "What, exactly, does it take to have a marriage annulled in Ferelden?"

Aedan just laughed harder, and Alistair pulled me into his lap for a sweet kiss.

"Considering half the village of Redcliffe must be aware that the marriage was consummated last night, good luck with that, your Highness!" Theron wore a smug grin; Alistair and I both blushed crimson, and I hid my face in his shoulder while he groaned.

"I hate you," I pouted at Theron.

He chuckled. "You have to love me. I'm family!"

We laughed and chatted a while longer; at some point Zev joined us and nonchalantly stole my spot on the couch, as I was still in Alistair's lap. The rest of our companions trickled in slowly; I could feel the taint of the various Grey Wardens as they approached, and noticed something odd as I did.

There were extras, taint signatures I didn't recognise. One was rapidly approaching with Duncan.

"Riordan!" I jumped up off Alistair's lap, going over to peer out into the hallway. Sure enough, there he was in the flesh.

He wore some armour that was all black, sleek and deadly, sort of like the rest of him, really. He was of an age with Duncan, but looked a lot less haggard than he had in game. He was a little bulkier, and a lot cleaner. His hair was long and silky, tied out of his face; his facial hair was more Aragorn than the rather bushy mess I recalled from the game.

Belatedly, it occurred to me that the others were going to wonder how I'd known Riordan was coming. With no one being able to sense my taint, we had kept my Warden-ish status a secret, and while there'd been plenty of clues along the way, I'd just totally blown it.

I ducked back into the library, hoping no one noticed; I moved to stand beside Alistair and waited to be introduced. The two senior Grey Wardens came into the room one after the other. Duncan was smiling, while Riordan looked very serious. The lines on his face indicated he was always that serious, which jived with what I remembered from the game.

"This is Warden Riordan. Please introduce yourselves."

"Aedan Cousland." Riordan and Aedan nodded at each other.

Zevran, Sten, Oghren, Bel, Faren, Solona, Jowan, Anders, Leliana, Wynne, and Gorim all said their names. Then he turned to Alistair. "I remember you, Alistair. It is good to see you again."

Alistair nodded, then turned slightly towards me. "And this is Sierra Theirin. My wife."

I thought he puffed his chest out just a little when he said the word 'wife'; it was ridiculously cute and I stifled a giggle.

Riordan raised one eyebrow and then eyed me critically. "Wife?" He glanced at Duncan, who seemed unconcerned, and changed the subject. "I've heard much about you, Sierra. I would like the chance to talk with you more at a later time."

Aedan and Alistair both stiffened slightly, and I squeezed Alistair's hand and put my other hand on Aedan's shoulder. "Sounds good." I trusted Riordan, though I'd be taking at least Duncan, if not Aedan and Alistair with me when we spoke.

Duncan cleared his throat. "Riordan has brought us two other Wardens as well; we will meet them later. Tomorrow the Dalish scouts, the former werewolves, and some of Redcliffe's soldiers will be dispatched on patrol to keep an eye on the movement of the horde; Riordan and the other two will accompany them."

"Only two?" Aedan asked, clearly sounding aggravated. His expression was a combination of angry and depressed; Zevran put his hand on Aedan's other shoulder and squeezed.

I wasn't surprised, unfortunately.

Duncan shot Aedan a look, and he subsided, still a bit petulant. Duncan continued. "Arl Eamon tells me we will depart for Denerim two days from now. You all have some time to rest; I suggest you make use of it." He turned to Aedan, Alistair, and me. "You three, with us please?"

I sighed and followed Duncan; he led us out of the Castle and a ways down the road, out of sight of anyone watching. He picked a large tree and leaned against it casually. "I thought we could talk out here, where we won't be overheard." He gave Aedan a look; Aedan flushed slightly.

Sighing, I went to lean against a tree of my own, but Alistair stood behind me so I could lean back against him instead, his body heat keeping me from shivering. It was sort of weird being outside without armour on, but nice too. Aedan stood beside me, and Riordan watched attentively.

"Sierra?" Duncan nodded to me, bobbing his head at Riordan, and I sighed again.

"I don't know much about Riordan, Duncan. Um..." I turned to the Warden in question. "You are from Highever, or thereabouts. Your Joining was at the same time as Duncan's, but you've served in Orlais since. When Loghain closed the borders to the Orlesian forces, you were chosen to sneak across the border and see what you could find out. You went to Ostagar, or at least you were planning to – I don't know if Duncan interrupted you before you got there. And then you were going to go to Denerim and see what was happening there. In the game, you were tricked by Howe, imprisoned, and tortured, but obviously that hasn't happened. I truly know nothing else about you." I looked back at Duncan. "Sorry. The game didn't go into details."

Aedan interrupted, "Look, we can convince you about Sierra later. Why did you bring only two Wardens?"

I scowled; I knew exactly why. Riordan gestured at me, indicating he wanted to hear what I was thinking.

"They won't come without the Chevaliers. The other Grey Wardens have decided that, if Ferelden isn't going to take all of their help, it won't get any. They are making a point for the rest of Thedas – play nice with the Wardens, or else. They'll gather in force at the borders and wait for Ferelden to fall. I'm actually surprised you brought any at all."

Riordan grimaced. "You are correct. Commander Clarel refused my request for aid. The two I brought...are technically deserters, now, as am I. They were both Fereldan before joining and being transferred to Jader. None of us was willing to sit and watch while Ferelden either fell or defeated the Blight on its own."

Aedan swore, and Alistair paled; I could practically see the wheels turning. I felt sorry for him; he'd idolized the Grey Warden order, made it out to be something noble, in his head, and now was getting brutal confirmation of what I'd said – they were as political as any other group in Thedas, and could be far more ruthless.

Duncan didn't look surprised, or even that disappointed; he just looked tired. "Well, we know from Sierra's game that the Blight can be defeated with just three Wardens. We now have eleven. It will have to be enough." He turned to Riordan. "And for the record, I hereby officially conscript the three of you into the Grey Wardens of Ferelden."

We slowly made our way back to the castle. I was eager to meet the other Wardens, and Duncan had indicated we would be putting the three of them through the new Joining that evening. We arrived back to see a crowd in the training yard; the two newest additions to our crazy band of misfits were getting ready to spar, with our other companions and a large group of Redcliffe soldiers watching while Oghren took bets.

I took a moment to inspect the two men. The first was an older man, I guessed as much as ten years older than Duncan. He had a shock of short grey hair sticking up in all directions, and grey stubble to match. He was short and stocky, roughly my height but probably double my weight, and he carried a two-handed maul that might even have been heavier than Sten's Asala. The other was younger, maybe in his early thirties, his hair a brilliant ginger, but well-coifed. He was tall, clean-shaven, and handsome. He carried a dagger and a longsword, and I noticed a bow sitting nearby.

Both men were stretching and warming up; watching them, it was clear they were just pandering to the crowd, not really needing a warm-up. Oghren was almost overwhelmed with bets, and I wandered over to see what odds he was offering. It seemed pretty even, no one knowing whether the reach and heft of the maul could make up for the assumed speed of the younger rogue.

Riordan rolled his eyes and told the two that if they were going to do it, they'd best get on with it; the two men gripped their weapons and squared off.

Both men had what appeared to be impeccable skill. The two-hander swung and drove the younger man back, while the dual-wielder leaped around, never staying where the older man expected him to be. Neither was getting in any hits, however. I thought it would have been fun to compare Zevran to the ginger-haired man in technique – they seemed similar. Indeed when I found the assassin, he was watching critically, arms crossed over his chest. I thought he looked a bit pouty, actually, and I wondered if he was worried he couldn't compare.

Then I spotted Aedan, and the real reason for Zev's sulk became apparent. Aedan was watching the sparring with open appreciation written on his face; his gaze never left the younger of the opponents, and his mouth hung slightly agape.

I sighed, squeezed Zev's shoulder sympathetically, and then tapped Aedan lightly on the shoulder. He spared me a quick glance and a smile, then went back to watching.

"You might want to close your mouth, brother, before you get drool on your new shirt."

"Wha...? Huh? I'm not drooling." But he snapped his mouth shut, and shot a guilty look in Zevran's direction. Spotting Zevran's unusually serious face, he sighed and backed up to stand with the former Crow. Zevran ignored him, watching the sparring, making Aedan twitch. I suppressed a grin; they were so committed to each other, yet so totally terrified of admitting it.

Finally Aedan slipped behind the elf, putting his hands on Zev's shoulders and pulling back so the Antivan leaned against Aedan's chest. Zevran finally relaxed, and I saw Aedan whisper something in his ear. Zevran nodded and smirked, leaning back further, and I smiled softly.

Adorable, though they wouldn't thank me for saying so...

I turned my attention back to the fight to see the older Warden hit the younger with the haft of his maul, knocking him onto his arse, and swinging the head down to bump lightly against his chest plate. The younger man yielded, an embarrassed look on his face, and I snickered; whatever impression the handsome young man had hoped to make in Redcliffe hadn't worked out like he'd wished.

After a lot of cheering, cursing, and settling of debts, the crowd finally cleared, leaving the new additions with most of our group. We were introduced, one-by-one, to Conrad, the younger of the two Wardens, and Dougal, the older. The two men were joking with each other good-naturedly, and I gathered their sparring sessions were something of a common occurrence. I got a curious raised eyebrow from each when Alistair claimed me as his wife; nothing else was said, but I gathered that there would be an interesting discussion later between Duncan, Riordan, and the other two Wardens when I wasn't around. I almost wanted to be a fly on the wall for that.

Conrad immediately began flirting with Leliana and Solona; he was so obvious about it, though, that both women exchanged incredulous glances and walked away. Even Anders wasn't jealous. Aedan was very restrained with the handsome Warden, to my amusement, and kept a hand or arm possessively touching Zevran the entire time. The assassin looked positively smug, though I knew he wouldn't appreciate that being pointed out either.

There's a lot no one points out for those two...

As not an 'official' Grey Warden, I barely saw my husband or any of the senior Wardens for the rest of the afternoon. They had various meetings with Theron, the Arl, and Duncan, which I knew I'd hear about later, and instead I spent the afternoon being teased mercilessly by the girls about my Prince and our night at the tavern.

I saw Isolde a couple of times, as we sat in the main hall; if looks could kill, we'd both be dead. I sighed; it seemed that was one relationship I would forever have trouble with. I wasn't particularly disappointed – the woman made me crazy – but having Eamon as an adversary wasn't the way I'd have wanted to start out.

Supper was a raucous affair, with eleven Wardens, all of our other companions, as well as the castle inhabitants. The amount of food consumed was enormous, and that was with me holding back to avoid suspicion from Conrad, Dougal, and Riordan. Alistair promised to steal us some food from the kitchens after supper, so I ate lightly.

I was allowed to stay for the modified Joining; Duncan explained that I had made a deal with Avernus to study my blood in return for the improved formula. I doubted it would help Dougal much, but it would potentially add a handful of years to Conrad's life expectancy, which was good. No one looked surprised at Duncan's explanation, so I assumed part of the afternoon meetings had been convincing the three Orlesian Grey Wardens of my origin.