Nolo, Nolle, Nolui : Chapter 22

[nithu]

The mood of the group as they travelled to Redcliffe was tense. When Alistair and Zevran had arrived back at the camp with an unconscious Fearghal, Wynne had been furious. She seemed to hold Alistair responsible for letting Fearghal get into a fight. That Zevran had stood up for Alistair just made things worse, from Alistair's point of view; the assassin was the last person Alistair wanted to be friendly with or beholden to.

 

With pursed lips and much muttering, Wynne had healed Alistair's nose. He still winced to think about it. She had straightened it first and when he'd yelped in pain, had demanded sternly if he really wanted a nose as badly bent as Fearghal's. There was a part of Alistair that wouldn't have minded; Fearghal's nose lent him a distinctly rakish air that Alistair envied. However, Alistair was quite vain about his straight, aristocratic nose and so he had borne Wynne's ministrations without complaint. Besides, he didn't want to snore like Fearghal did.

Fearghal had a broken jaw and a spectacular black eye. Wynne had conjured some ice and slapped an ice pack on the blackening eye and healed his jaw before tending to his head injury. For all Wynne's healing, Fearghal was left with a swollen jaw and one side of his face was interesting shades of purple and green. Alistair had watched him carefully after he'd come round, thinking that maybe his temper would still be up but instead, Fearghal seemed depressed and withdrawn. Alistair knew little of the Couslands at Highever and could only wonder at the loyalty they inspired in their men. He supposed that Fearghal had been sent there to squire as a boy, like many other minor sons of minor nobles. It must be like losing family.

As they travelled, Alistair had been hoping to get a chance to talk to Fearghal but Fearghal avoided talking to anyone, unless he absolutely had to. Given the close confines of the group, it was incredibly difficult to get the man alone, and Alistair had no desire to speak in front of the others. Finally they crested a hill and Redcliffe came into view. Alistair knew he had to speak now. He hung back, letting the others pass.

Catching Fearghal's eye, he took a deep breath and said, "I need to talk to you. There's something I probably should have told you earlier but... it just never seemed to be a good time."

The others had stopped and were looking back up the hill at them, obviously curious.

Fearghal's voice was flat and disinterested as he told them to carry on down the hill; that he and Alistair would catch them up shortly.

Fearghal's eyes narrowed as he took in Alistair's tense posture, the way he wouldn't quite meet Fearghal's eye. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"I doubt it. I never have, that's for sure." Alistair's eyes flicked briefly, to look at Fearghal, then away again.

Alistair took a deep breath and started to explain. "I told you about how Arl Eamon raised me; that my mother was a serving girl here and he took me in when she died?"

Fearghal nodded, waiting for Alistair to continue.

"Well the reason he did that was... well, because my father was King Maric." Alistair flinched as Fearghal exploded.

"What? You don't think you might have told me this before?" yelled Fearghal, his mind working furiously, trying to see all the implications of Alistair's revelation.

"When would I say that?" sighed Alistair. "It doesn't exactly crop up in conversation. 'Oh, by the way, King Maric had sex with a servant and produced a bastard son, which would be me.'" Alistair rubbed his face. "Besides, it's never meant anything to me. I'm just an inconvenience, a possible threat to Cailan's rule. My existence has always been kept a secret. I've never talked about it to anyone."

Alistair paused, trying to gauge Fearghal's reaction. Fearghal's eyes were cold and hard, Alistair found it impossible to know what was going on behind them.

"The few people who did know either resented me for it, or they coddled me... even Duncan kept me out of the fighting. I didn't want you to know. I'm sorry." Alistair fidgeted, wishing that Fearghal would just say something.

"I can't believe you were so stupid!" Although he kept his voice low, Fearghal's tone was livid.

"I said I'm sorry," flared Alistair. "Look, I know I should have said something. It's just this has never brought me anything but problems."

"Does Loghain know?" demanded Fearghal.

"I don't know... not for sure, but I assume so. After all, he and King Maric were close." Alistair flushed. "I almost told you before, when you thought Howe had sent Zevran after you, but... "

"You think they sent him after you?"

Alistair shrugged, "I don't know. I suppose it's possible."

Fearghal paced, lost in thought. "If Loghain knows, then..." He stopped as thought struck him. "You're the heir to the throne."

"What?" yelped Alistair, appalled at the prospect. "No! No, I'm not! I'm the son of a commoner... "

"And a king," interrupted Fearghal.

"... and a Grey Warden to boot. It's always been made very clear to me that there was no room for me raising rebellions or anything like that."

Alistair swallowed as Fearghal gave him an odd look; an unconvinced look. "Look, can we just move on? I'll just pretend you still think I'm some... nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"You and me both," muttered Fearghal.

"Welcome to the club," said Alistair.

Fearghal scowled. "We're not done talking about this, Alistair. But... now's not really the time or the place. The others are waiting for us."

Alistair looked down the hill; the rest of the group were waiting by a small bridge.

The lone guard on the bridge was pathetically pleased to see them. Fearghal groaned as the man explained that no-one had been in or out of the castle for days, except for some evil that had been attacking the town. The man seemed at a loss to explain further but offered to take them down to Bann Teagan who, it seemed, was leading the defence of the town.

"Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?" exclaimed Alistair, brightening. Fearghal's head jerked at the name.

"Do you know Bann Teagan, Fearghal?"

Fearghal nodded. "Not well. I'd forgotten he was related to Arl Eamon," he explained, shrugging.

The guard led them down the steep path into the town and into the chantry. The chantry was crammed with women, children and a few old men. As they made their way forwards, stepping over scattered belongings, a man at the front looked up.

"It's... Tomas, yes? Who are these people with you? They don't look like simple travellers."

Alistair stepped forward, smiling. "Bann Teagan. The last time we met I was a lot younger and... covered in mud."

Teagan frowned, then smiled broadly. "Covered in mud? Alistair! Is that you? You're alive!"

Alistair grinned. "Still alive, although not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it."

"Indeed. Loghain would have us all believed that all the Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things."

Fearghal stepped forward. "Not all of us died."

Teagan turned towards him. "So you're a Grey Warden as well? You seem very familiar. Have we...?" Teagan's eyes widened in shock. "Lord Fearghal!"

Fearghal frowned. "Just Fearghal. I, too, am a Grey warden."

Alistair looked on puzzled, his mouth dropping open when Teagan continued.

"I was greatly saddened to hear of your father's death. Teyrn Cousland was a fine man; he will be missed by many." Teagan paused, then continued hesitantly, "There are all sorts of wild rumours circulating about... "

"Later, Teagan," snapped Fearghal. He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. We'll talk later, I promise. We're here to see the Arl, but I understand that might be difficult."

Alistair only half-listened to Teagan, his mind reeling from the revelation that Fearghal's father was the Teyrn of Highever. Suddenly so much made sense. A part of him felt angry that Fearghal had withheld such the fact, especially in the light of Alistair's own revelation about his parentage and Fearghal's reaction; however, Fearghal's reaction to the news that the Couslands had been attainted seemed much more understandable.

Quickly, Teagan explained about the creatures that had swarmed out of the castle on the last few nights, walking dead that killed everything in their path. There had been an abortive attempt to evacuate the village that had been quickly abandoned when the creatures had attacked in broad daylight. The Mayor was organising a defence, but they had been sorely pressed the previous night, losing several men. It was unlikely they could fend off the monsters successfully again.

Teagan looked relieved when Fearghal offered to help. Alistair didn't realise he'd been holding his breath until Fearghal volunteered their aid and all the tension leeched out of him. Both Sten and Morrigan started to protest until Fearghal suggested they could leave if they wished and he hoped they had better luck than the villagers had had. Grumbling, they headed towards the door of the chantry with Wynne, Leliana and Zevran close behind them. Alistair lingered, waiting for Fearghal.

"You should speak to Murdock, he's getting things organised outside," Teagan told Fearghal. "He insists I stay in here, says I'm 'the last line of defence'. I suspect it's his way of telling me I'm getting under his feet."

Fearghal smiled. "Don't underrate yourself, Teagan. Besides, if he's not worrying about your safety, he'll probably be more effective."

"Fearghal, thank you for offering to help. It was really starting to feel quite hopeless."

Fearghal looked away. "Well, like I said to Sten and Morrigan, leaving doesn't seem to be an option. Besides," Fearghal's voice dropped, "you were a good friend to Rory. He'd never forgive me if... "

"Rory survived?" asked Teagan, astonished.

Fearghal shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

Teagan's face fell. "I'm so sorry," he said softly. "He was... I'll miss ... "

"I know. Truly, we'll talk later... when all this is over." Fearghal turned and seemed surprised to see Alistair still standing there. "Let's go and see Murdock," he growled, then nodded abruptly at Teagan and headed towards the door.

Murdock turned out to be a dour man who didn't seem to think they could do much to help. Fearghal grew impatient with his defeatist attitude. Alistair watched with interest; Fearghal had been raised giving orders and expecting them to be followed. Knowing who he was made Alistair notice things, analyse things he'd never given much thought to before.

The other thing that struck Alistair, as the day wore on, was the fact that any mention of Fearghal's past seemed to galvanise him into activity. Alistair could see the tension in the way Fearghal held himself; he snarled and growled at everyone, the air of barely restrained rage intimidating to all. It felt to Alistair as if he spent the afternoon smoothing ruffled feathers; Fearghal would scowl and thunder at people, then Alistair would step in and mediate. He supposed that people were so relieved that he was reasonable, compared to Fearghal anyway, they'd agree to almost anything.

By the end of the afternoon they'd got a lot done. Alistair recalled Bennet's words, 'Grief takes men different ways' he'd said. The blacksmith had been persuaded to open his forge; Alistair had been afraid that Fearghal was going to brain the man with his own anvil. A Dwarven mercenary and his cronies had been persuaded to aid in the defence of the town... if threatening to kill the man if he survived until morning counted as persuasion. Alistair had stepped in quickly when Fearghal became irritated with the Revered Mother's insistence that it was 'wrong' to tell Ser Perth's men that the medals she gave them would help them.

The fat landlord of the inn 'volunteered' to join the militia; Alistair had been happy to hang back during that conversation, repulsed by the man's avarice and cowardice. He'd been amused to notice the barmaid making eyes at Fearghal afterwards, plus she'd allowed them to help themselves to the man's stock. She'd been so grateful, she'd pointed out the suspicious elf who'd been hanging around for days. Fearghal had intimidated the man, then Alistair had come to his rescue. The elf had been pathetically eager to tell them the little he knew and had also been conscripted into the militia.

As the elf scurried out of the inn, Zevran laughed.

Fearghal turned to look at him, puzzled. "What's so funny?"

"You are, dear Warden."

Fearghal's eyes widened. Alistair tensed, expecting his anger to flare; he didn't think Fearghal would take kindly to being laughed at.

"Well, you and Alistair. I have rarely seen two men work so well together," explained Zevran.

Alistair rolled his eyes; the assassin had to know that Fearghal detested him. To his surprise, Fearghal relaxed and grimaced more than grinned, but there was a wry humour in his face that acknowledged the truth of Zevran's words. Saying nothing he turned and headed back down the hill to the chantry.

As they entered, a young woman approached Leliana. "There was no sign of my brother?" She bit her lip, struggling not to cry.

Leliana shook her head. "I'm sorry, I've seen no sign of him."

Fearghal had stopped to listen. "Who? Who is missing?"

"M-my brother, ser. I'd hoped he'd come back before nightfall... h-he's only nine..." the woman stopped, unable to hold back her tears any longer.

Fearghal swore softly under his breath and glanced out of the window. The light was fading and it would soon be dark. "Which is your house?"

The woman pointed. "That one, ser."

Fearghal turned to the others. "We don't have much time. I think we should split up. I'll take Zevran; Alistair, you go with Leliana. We'll check all the houses, pick the locks if you need to. Morrigan and Sten, I want you both to check sheds and outhouses. Let's find the little bugger before it gets dark." He started towards the door, then stopped, looking back at the woman. "What's his name?"

"B-Bevin, ser."

Fearghal nodded and headed out of the chantry, towards the house she'd pointed out.

The house was small and there weren't many places for a small boy to hide. Fearghal caught Zevran's eye and grinned at a noise from the large cupboard in the corner. He yanked the door open and pulled out the boy hiding within.

"You must be Bevin. What are you hoping to achieve in there?" he asked, amused as much as irritated with the boy.

"I wasn't always in there! I hid when I heard you coming. I was...er...well, it's supposed to be a secret."

Fearghal suppressed a smile. "Well, are you better at keeping secrets than you are at hide-and-seek? Although, maybe it's something I could help with?"

"Father said I could have his sword when I grew up. It was Grandfather's and he was a great dragon-slayer. I thought... if I was brave like Grandfather, I could use his sword and... k-kill the bad things that t-took M-Mother." The boy's eyes filled with tears.

"A great-dragon slayer, eh?" said Fearghal softly. "It must be a fine sword."

"It is," agreed Bevin sniffing. "Only... it's too heavy."

"Ah. Could I see it?"

Bevin turned back to the cupboard and pointed. At the back, the sword lay in its scabbard. Fearghal retrieved it and drew the sword, weighing it in his hand, surprised to find that it was a fine sword.

He sheathed it again and turned back towards Bevin. "You're very brave, Bevin. It's a fine thing you wanted to do. My fellow Warden, Alistair, is in need of a good sword. Would you mind if he used this sword? He'll be able to slay many of the monsters with this."

The boy gazed up at him, his uncertainty plain. "I can't give it to you; it was Father's. Kaitlyn would be mad with me if I did!"

"Kaitlyn's your sister?"

Bevin nodded.

"Come with me to the chantry and I'll talk to Kaitlyn. I'm sure there's some way I can help you both in return."

As they stepped out of the house, they almost bumped into Alistair and Leliana.

"Oh, you found him!" exclaimed Leliana.

"We found something too," said Alistair, smirking. "There're several barrels of oil in a storeroom back there. They might be useful; we could maybe use it to set the barricades on fire once those... things turn up. It could slow them down."

"That's an excellent idea, Alistair! Zevran, get Murdock to lend you some men and get those barrels up to Ser Perth at the barricades."

Alistair beamed with pleasure at the unexpected praise. His smile grew wider when Fearghal showed him the sword.

"Look at this, Alistair. A dragon-slayer's sword, no less!"

Alistair drew the sword and weighed it, testing its balance, as Fearghal had done. It whistled through the air as he swung it. He handed it back to Fearghal, regretfully. "It's a fine sword," he agreed.

"Let's go and see if Bevin's sister can be persuaded to part with it." Fearghal led them into the chantry and stood back a little as Kaitlyn fell on her brother, weeping with relief and scolding him at the same time. Once she had calmed a little she was more than willing to sell the sword, especially at the price Fearghal offered.

Alistair almost fumbled as Fearghal tossed the sheathed sword to him. He frowned at it. "What... ?"

"Your sword isn't nearly as good as that one," said Fearghal.

"You're giving it to me?" Alistair was dumbfounded.

Fearghal shrugged. "I don't need it. If nothing else, we need decent weapons and armour. Let's round up the others and head up to Ser Perth. It's almost dark."

Alistair stared after him, then quickly swapped his swords and ran to catch up.

Comments

[elysium_fic]

Maker help Ferelden if Alistair and Fearghal actually start playing Good Cop/Bad Cop on purpose!

[nithu]

Hehe. I couldn't resist it, they just sort of did it all on their own!

[elysium_fic]

I can definitely see why. Those two would be unstoppable though if they start applying that skill.

[scarylady]

God, Fearghal rumbles over people just like my Aedan did (yes, that Aedan). I love the good cop/bad cop combo, it's perfect.

And ha! Fearghal was properly caught out having blasted Alistair for keeping secrets and them having his aired immediately.

[nithu]

And Fearghal hasn't even twigged yet that the's been caught out! Alistair will be putting him right about that :D I do like Fearghal, but he can be incredibly dense sometimes!!

[scarylady]

Just a smidge over-focussed sometimes, methinks.

[nithu]

Yeah... tunnel vision.

[darkrose]

It sounds weird, but...Alistair and Fearghal are awfully cute.

Also, I liked the twist with both of them having their secrets come out at Redcliffe.

[nithu]

They do have their moments :) I must admit, it's purely accidental that both their secrets came out at Redcliffe... unless my subconscious planned it!