Nolo, Nolle, Nolui : Chapter 17

[nithu]

Alistair stretched, yawning. Although Fearghal had taken the first watch, allowing him a few hours sleep, he was finding it hard to stay awake. The mages' sleeping cubicles were remarkably intact, unlike the apprentice quarters below, which had been ripped apart. There had been noticeably few bodies up here too, although they were all so tired, Alistair doubted that a little detail like corpses would have disturbed their sleep.

 

Alistair prowled restlessly up and down the short section of corridor, pausing to peer into the cubicle where Fearghal had collapsed onto a mattress. The small window high up in the wall permitted a silver shaft of moonlight to penetrate the darkness. He looks so much younger than he does when he's awake. Alistair stiffened as Fearghal stirred restlessly and rolled onto his back, one arm flung up above his head. Then Fearghal started to snore and Alistair was riveted by the fact that someone could make that amount of noise and not wake them self up. He remembered Bennet had mentioned something about Fearghal's snoring but had thought Bennet had been joking.

In the next cubicle, Wynne and Morrigan stirred. Alistair heard Morrigan muttering furiously and then Wynne appeared, her face set in a bleary frown

Wynne sighed, shaking her head, and marched over to the mattress Fearghal slept on. "Fearghal, turn over!" she snapped loudly.

Fearghal stiffened, then, murmuring gently, turned onto his side and was quiet.

Alistair watched in astonishment.

Wynne gave him a small smile. "When I was newly-harrowed I slept in a cubicle next to a dreadful snorer," she told him. She looked back at Fearghal, muttering, "Someone really ought to reset that boy's nose."

They turned back into the corridor. "You should get some more sleep," Alistair told Wynne.

The older woman shook her head ruefully. "I doubt I'll get back to sleep now. It's strange, but it seems that the older I get, the less I need."

Wynne settled herself on a stone bench against the wall and Alistair sat down beside her. "I remember seeing him at Ostagar," she told Alistair.

"Who? Fearghal?"

Wynne nodded. "I was helping out in the Infirmary. He came scrounging food for a prisoner; he said the man hadn't been fed in days. He seemed so... furious about it."

Alistair shook his head wonderingly.

"You seem surprised," noted Wynne.

Alistair huffed softly. "He always seems so angry, that's no surprise. But the prisoner... I just don't know what to make of him," confessed Alistair. "I've seen him beat a man to death and less than an hour later he was helping a lost child."

Wynne nodded. "I know what you mean. He's a man of contradictions. He fights like he wants to kill the whole world, yet when that blood mage survived earlier, he let her go. I wonder what he's so angry about?"

Alistair pulled a face. "Being alive, I think," he sighed.

"You mean Ostagar?"

Alistair shook his head. "He was like this when he arrived at Ostagar. All I know is that Duncan had gone to Highever to test a knight but ended up conscripting Fearghal instead."

"There were rumours just before the battle at Ostagar of treachery at Highever," mused Wynne. "It was all very vague, but I heard that the Couslands were betrayed and all at Highever were slaughtered."

Alistair was silent, trying to remember little things that Fearghal had let slip. "He said that Duncan had taken him from one massacre and marched him to another one. 'Everything I ever cared about is gone.'" Alistair frowned. "We met another Highever man at Lothering. He said he'd had to tell Fearghal that his brother was dead."

Wynne clucked sympathetically. "Poor boy. I wonder if he has other family, elsewhere."

Alistair shook his head. "I don't think so. He's from Highever. He said Duncan had made an agreement with his father... his dying father." Alistair felt a sudden rush of anger and resentment. He's not the only person who's lost everything they care about!

Wynne patted his hand. "It's hard to be the one left behind when so many we care about have died," she said softly.

Alistair nodded miserably. "I keep feeling that I should be handling it better. Duncan warned me, warned us all, that this could happen. Any of us could die in battle... I just didn't expect everyone to die. I know I should be grateful to have survived, but I don't. I-I..." Alistair stopped, furiously blinking back tears.

Wynne squeezed Alistair's hand. "It may be a tired, old cliché, but time really does heal, Alistair. Honour your dead by doing your duty to the best of your ability and let time take care of the rest."

Alistair nodded. "I'm not sure my best is up to much but I will try. Thank you, Wynne." He smiled at her. "Maybe you be telling this to Fearghal, too."

Wynne smiled at him. "If I thought he would listen, I might." She sighed heavily. "He wields his anger like his shield, but I think time will heal him too, eventually."

Alistair looked thoughtful. "Bennet told me that he was good at heart. I don't know, it's hard to see it sometimes... or even most of the time."

Wynne cocked her head at him. "But you have seen it sometimes?"

Alistair nodded. "I think so," he conceded.

"Then maybe all you have to do is be patient."

~o~O~o~

The second day was as bad as the first had been. They made slow progress up the tower, clearing each floor room by room. Fearghal found himself impressed with Alistair; his templar abilities were certainly useful in dealing with the demons, abominations and occasional blood mage that infested the tower. Wynne, too, proved invaluable. Unlike Morrigan, she didn't excel at offensive magic; instead her forte was healing. She not only healed their minor injuries with a mere twist of her hand and a murmur, but she also was able to use her magic to combat their fatigue. They were able to make faster progress with her aid than they might have done otherwise.

Wearily, the party climbed yet another flight of stairs. "Maferath's balls! How many more floors?" groaned Fearghal.

"We are almost at the top," sighed Wynne. "This floor is the templar quarters. Above this is the Harrowing Chamber."

Fearghal stepped into the corridor and looked around warily. This section appeared completely deserted. He beckoned the others. "More of the same, I suppose. We check each room."

Fearghal headed towards a door and pushed it open. He stiffened in surprise at the oddest sight he'd ever seen confronted him. A templar stood against the wall, his eyes glazed and unseeing, where he was having a bizarre conversation with... Fearghal shook his head. Not a woman... some kind of demon?

"A desire demon," murmured Wynne.

The demon turned to face them.

Alistair made a strangled sound as he took in the almost naked, feminine form. Maker's breath! I thought Morrigan's outfit was skimpy but that's just... He swallowed nervously and hoped he wasn't blushing, although the heat in his face told him that he was.

"You are intruding upon a loving, intimate moment and I dislike disruptions," the demon informed them haughtily.

Fearghal snorted. "There's nothing loving or intimate here," he retorted scornfully. "What would a creature like you know of such things?"

The demon smiled and turned back to the enthralled templar. "I've given him what he always wanted. I saw his loneliness, his longing for a family that loved him," she argued.

Wynne turned to Fearghal. "She is feeding off his innermost desires and taking away his will. This... this is wrong!"

"No one else would have known his heart. He did not know it himself," protested the demon.

Fearghal frowned. "So you think you're doing a good thing?"

"We are partners. I give him what no-one else can and, through him, I experience what it is to be mortal."

Fearghal snorted. "I'll bet you have no more idea about what a family feels like, what love feels like than he does." he scoffed. "All you can do is give him a pale imitation of the real thing."

The demon whirled and confronted Fearghal, her hands shooting out to grasp his face. Fearghal went rigid, unable to pull away, his eyes drawn to hers.

"Oh yes, I see," she purred. "So much love, so much desire. Such a pity it is all gone. I could give them back to you... for a time. I could bring him back."

At the strangled sob that broke from Fearghal, Alistair charged the demon, knocking her to the floor. Free of the demon's grip, Fearghal staggered, then reached for his sword and shield.

"Help! There are bandits at the door! They're going to murder the children!" screeched the demon.

The ensorcelled templar sprang into life, reaching for his sword. "They will not get past me!" he growled. He swung the huge two-hander at Alistair, who had his back to him. Fearghal swung his shield up, blocking the blow, giving Alistair a few precious seconds to turn and raise his shield.

Once Alistair had engaged the templar, Fearghal turned to the demon snarling. For the briefest moment he had wanted what she offered. He was furious with himself for his own weakness, and with her for perceiving it so easily.

"You'll die for that, bitch!" Rage burned, white-hot, through his veins. The demon was powerful, but she had prodded a deep wound in Fearghal that hadn't even begun to heal. Driven by pain he was relentless, barely slowed by the magic she threw at him. The demon backed away from him and Fearghal drove his sword through her body so hard he felt the tip strike the wall behind her.

Alistair had hoped that the demon's death would free the templar. He had been trying to merely hold the man at bay; however, as the templar's dream faded, the man howled in anguish, seemingly enraged by the loss of the illusion. Alistair was relieved when Fearghal joined him, Fearghal's fury a match for the templar's. With the demon gone, Morrigan was also able to turn her attention to the templar. The templar was no match for the three of them and soon lay dead at their feet.

Alistair cleaned his weapon, and started to re-sheathe it.

"Alistair... er... thanks."

Alistair looked at Fearghal in surprise. His fellow Warden looked uncomfortable and faintly embarrassed. Alistair shrugged, unsure what to say.

Fearghal frowned. "I'm not sure I could have... I mean, if you hadn't... intervened."

"It was nothing," murmured Alistair. He grinned sheepishly at Fearghal. "Anyway, I should be thanking you. If it hadn't been for you, he'd have cut me in two with that sword," he said, nodding his head at the templar's corpse.

Fearghal waved off Alistair's thanks. "We should get moving," he said, turning and heading out of the door.

Eventually the corridor opened out into a large hall. At the centre of the hall was a huge... thing. Fearghal stopped, appalled. He turned to Wynne.

"A demon?" he asked

"Wynne nodded. The creature was about eight feet tall, huge, fleshy and twisted. There was almost something human in the distorted face. The creature swung round to face them.

"Oh, look. Visitors. I'd entertain you but... too much effort involved," it drawled. Its voice was deep and hypnotic.

All of a sudden, Fearghal wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep; he couldn't remember ever having felt so tired. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Good, that will make you that much easier to kill," he growled, stifling a yawn.

The demon made a disappointed noise. "But why? Aren't you tired of all the violence in this world. I know I am," sighed the demon. "Wouldn't you just like to lay down and... forget about all this? Leave it all behind?"

'Yes... forget...' thought Fearghal.

Fearghal heard Alistair groan. "Can't... keep my eyes open," mumbled Alistair

"Resist. You must all resist, else we are all lost... " urged Wynne, her voice sleepy.

The demon leaned over Fearghal. "Why do you fight? You deserve more... You deserve a rest. The world will go on without you."

All Fearghal could do was watch the twisted face, helplessly, as it faded away into darkness.

Comments

[elysium_fic]

Why do I suspect Fearghal's Fade dream is going to break my heart?

[nithu]

You have until Wednesday to get your hankie laundered ;)

[scarylady]

*begs* pleease don't do that goddawful Goldanna dream for Alistair. It suuuucks.

Um, am I allowed a piece of criticism? I hope it counts as concrit, but I apologise if not. I'm never sure where the boundaries lie.

Take a look at the convo between Alistair and Wynne. Virtually every sentence begins with one of the other of their names. It's an easy trap to fall into (I've done so myself) but it's worth moving around descriptions and/or shifting the dialogue to the start to break this flow up.

I hope this is OK, and that you take it as it's meant. We're all friends here, right? *looks hopeful*

[nithu]

I'd never noticed that before! Don't be nervous of telling me stuff like that, it's the kind of criticism I need (and want) :)

Er... I might have to re-write parts of the next chapter o_O I can only think of one (ooh, make that two!) dreams Alistair might have. Oh God, I do have to rewite that bit. It's just too delicious!

[scarylady]

I've killed the Goldanna dream? Yes!! *punches the air in triumph*

[nithu]

You are a bad influence! If my beta reader shouts at me (having thought the Tower was done), I'll refer her to you. But she's such a sweetie, I think you're safe, hehe.