Nolo, Nolle, Nolui : Chapter 41
Feb. 16th, 2011 07:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fearghal watched Alistair lead the others towards him, his brown eyes full of concern, his face full of questions. Fearghal nodded at him, trying to reassure him; strangely, he felt a kind of peace. Together they moved further into the Gauntlet. They drew their weapons as they glimpsed armed shadows flickering ahead. Fearghal gasped as he realised that the ethereal figures were facsimiles of themselves. For a brief moment he wondered if he should put away his weapon, and then the ghostly figures attacked.
Their attackers' bodies might have been ethereal, but their blows were solid enough. Fearghal barely got his shield up in time as his spectral other self charged at him, screaming with rage. Alistair made a beeline for Morrigan's double, releasing a flash of blinding light as he did so. He ran the figure through as it staggered, then wheeled around and ran towards his own double, who was heading towards the real Morrigan with a grim determination. Alistair watched as his other self froze mid-stride and was shattered by a huge boulder that descended on it; he couldn't help but wince. He changed direction and charged Leliana's double, who had Fearghal in her sights. Moments later it was all over.
"You killed me!" said Alistair indignantly, glaring at Morrigan.
The witch merely raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "You killed me first."
"Hey, I did, didn't I?" said Alistair, grinning broadly.
"There is no need to look so pleased about it, templar," retorted Morrigan, scowling.
Fearghal grunted. "And just when she was beginning to like you."
Alistair looked astonished. "You do?" he asked Morrigan.
"No," she replied tartly.
"That's a relief," muttered Alistair.
Shaking his head, Fearghal led them past the corpses and they emerged into a large hall. Immediately in front of the door was a dusty stone altar. Beyond the altar a barrier of flame traversed the hall. Fearghal scraped away the dust of centuries and read out the inscription.
'Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight.'
"Now what?" asked Fearghal.
"I think that we must undress and step through the fire," said Leliana.
"What?" squeaked Alistair. "All of us?"
Fearghal rolled his eyes. "All of us. Unless you're offering to go first and we'll see what happens?"
"Er... ladies first?" suggested Alistair hopefully.
"Just get undressed, Alistair," snapped Morrigan, tugging her boots off.
Fearghal pulled his gauntlets off and dropped them on the floor, then started undoing the buckles of his armour. He sidled up to Alistair. "Look at it this way... how long have you been waiting for a woman to say that to you?" he murmured, smirking.
"That's not helping," growled Alistair, keeping his head down as he divested himself of his armour and the padded clothes he wore underneath. Eventually he was down to his small clothes. Staring down at the floor he saw Fearghal's small clothes drop on top of his clothes and steeling himself, he removed his own and let them fall to the floor.
He saw Fearghal's feet move towards the fire and looked up, watching the muscular body step through the flames. The flames shimmered and flared, then Fearghal disappeared from sight. Determined not to look left or right, Alistair followed him. Leliana and Morrigan were a heartbeat behind him.
Fearghal eyed the flames before him, took a deep breath and stepped forwards before he could admit to himself just how nervous he was. He could hear his father telling him 'Lead by example, pup. Never ask anyone to do something you're not prepared to do yourself.' Light flared around him and Fearghal tensed at the intense heat, only to relax a moment later as he realised that the fire wasn't actually burning him. Bathed in flame, he stood for a few moments, savouring the heat, feeling at peace, almost sleepy.
The flames disappeared and the Guardian appeared in front of them.
"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet; you have walked the path of Andraste and, like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy, pilgrims. Approach the Sacred Ashes."
Fearghal realised that he did indeed feel clean. In the intense cold, washing had been cursory at best, yet the accumulated sweat and grime had disappeared.
Quickly, they dressed and made their way to the far end of the hall. A stone staircase rose up in front of them. Solemnly, they trooped up it. At the top was a statue of Andraste, a large alabaster urn at its foot.
"I didn't think anyone could succeed in finding Andraste's final resting place, but here... here She is," murmured Alistair.
"I never dreamed I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes... I... I have no words to express... " Leliana stumbled to a halt, lost for words.
Even Morrigan was impressed. "Powerful magic, indeed," she mused.
His hands shaking, Fearghal removed the lid of the Urn. He pulled a small pouch from his pack and took a pinch of the ashes, sprinkling them carefully into the pouch, making sure to dust his fingers off. He tucked the pouch away then replaced the lid on the Urn. Fearghal stared up at the statue for a moment, then turned.
"Come on, let's get back to the others."
~o~O~o~
Alistair mopped up his gravy with a large chunk of bread, watching Fearghal carefully. The stresses of the day had caught up with Fearghal as they made their way down to where Genitivi and Zevran waited. His face had closed, his shoulders hunched; he had barely raised a half-hearted smile at his hound's effusive welcome. The scholar had been full of questions about the Urn which Fearghal had barely acknowledged, leaving it to Alistair to describe what they had seen.
Although it was growing dark, Fearghal had insisted on leaving the temple precincts. Zevran had led the way down the path, torch held high to illuminate the way as best as he could. Alistair wasn't ashamed to admit he was extremely nervous as he followed cautiously in Zevran's wake, his hand grasping Fearghal's arm as they bore Genitivi back down the mountain.
When they arrived back in the village there wasn't a villager to be seen, although most of the houses showed flickering lamp light leeching out of cracks in barred shutters. They decided to camp in a meadow behind the shop and Morrigan was busy setting wards before the tents were even up. Fearghal sent Zevran into the village to see if he could retrieve Sten's pack.
When Zevran returned with the pack, Fearghal eyed it warily, then grunted, "Set his tent up. Brother Genitivi can sleep in it."
Leliana had got a fire going and started cooking while Alistair, Zevran and Fearghal busied themselves erecting tents.
Genitivi eyed the tent that had been set up for him, then asked hesitantly, "One of your party was killed by the villagers?" He shuffled uncomfortably at the sudden tension in the air.
"No. I killed him," Fearghal informed him tersely.
Genitivi's eyes went wide and he swallowed nervously, wary of this mercurial Grey Warden.
"Sten was a Qunari," Leliana said quietly, trying to fill the awkward silence. "He didn't agree with... he attacked Fearghal." She sighed heavily.
Genitivi's alarm gave way to curiosity. "A Qunari! Oh, I wish I could have met him."
Fearghal gave him a disgusted look, then threw his empty bowl down and disappeared into his tent.
Alistair hesitated for a moment, then followed him.
Fearghal was laid on his bedroll, one arm flung across his face.
"Are you all right?" asked Alistair.
"I'm fine," ground out Fearghal.
Alistair sat down on his bedroll and started pulling off his boots. "Fine? Sten attacked you this morning, then we had to fight our way through the temple, then you had to confront the spirit of your father. Of course, why wouldn't you be fine?"
Fearghal sat up. "What do you want from me?" he hissed.
"I want you to stop pretending everything's 'fine' when it clearly isn't," growled Alistair, trying to keep his voice down.
"Is this about Sten? You were there, you saw it. He gave me no choice!"
"I know he didn't," agreed Alistair. "I think you did the only thing you could have done... I'm just not sure you believe it."
Fearghal sighed. "What's one more death? There have been so many," he said bitterly. "I have so much blood on my hands, Sten's hardly makes a difference."
"His blood is not on your hands!" protested Alistair. "He brought his death upon himself. If he felt so strongly that we were taking the wrong course, he should have said something."
Fearghal snorted. "Why would he? It's not like I went out of my way to get to know him. If I'm honest, he repelled me. Every time I looked at him I couldn't help thinking about what he'd done." He looked at Alistair expectantly.
"What?" asked Alistair.
"This is where you get to say 'I told you so'," said Fearghal.
"Yeah, that would be useful," drawled Alistair. "Anyway, it's not that you were necessarily wrong; he could have been very useful, it's just... "
"Just?" Fearghal's eyebrows rose.
Alistair watched him warily. "Well, I got the impression that you freed him, mainly to get at me."
"Well, ... Oh, what's the use? I've been told I'm stubborn and bloody-minded so many times over the years, it's a wonder I don't recite it in my sleep." Fearghal had the grace to look embarrassed. "You're right, I recruited him for all the wrong reasons. Having done that, I should still have handled him better, though."
"Look at it this way, in Lothering he faced death in a cage, overcome by darkspawn. At least he died fighting. I think he'd have preferred it," said Alistair.
Fearghal stared at him, then sniggered. "Is this your way of trying to cheer me up?"
Alistair shrugged. "I do my best," he said, with a little grin.
Fearghal spluttered with laughter. "Oh, Maker! I shouldn't laugh! Poor Sten... it's really not funny..."
Alistair watched, bemused, then was horrified to see Fearghal's laughter transform into tears. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... "
Fearghal hid his face in his hands. "It's not you... it's... " He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "I've been trying so hard not to give in to it but since... up there," Fearghal jerked his head in the direction of the mountain and the temple, "it's as if I can't put it away again."
"'Not give in to it'?" repeated Alistair, incredulously. "You make it sound like... it's self indulgent. Maker's breath, Fearghal!"
"It is," insisted Fearghal. "First it was all about getting to Ostagar. I needed to find Fergus and tell him, then when we arrived, he wasn't there and there was the Joining, then the battle and... We have too much to do, Alistair."
"Yes, and pretending it didn't happen has worked so well for you, hasn't it?" demanded Alistair.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?" yelled Fearghal. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, struggling with his temper. "I f-feel so... overwhelmed by it. I can't afford to fall apart again."
"I don't think we can afford for you not to," said Alistair quietly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you're bad-tempered, exhausted, sometimes irrational and just generally impossible," snapped Alistair. "It means that it rubs off on everyone else; it means that when you wake up screaming and yelling, it disturbs everyone's sleep... and don't tell me it's darkspawn nightmares because I know it isn't. It means that you have to start facing it." Alistair stopped, astonished with himself.
Fearghal stared at Alistair. His father's words in the Gauntlet came back to him. 'Take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it, and let it go.'
"You're not on your own," said Alistair. "I'll help in any way I can. If you want to talk, I'll listen. If you need to be alone, I'll share with Zevran; I know you've been desperate for your own tent."
"I don't think I could bear to be on my own at the moment," Fearghal confessed.
"Fair enough. Why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll organise the watches," offered Alistair.
It was a testament to just how exhausted Fearghal was that he merely nodded, curling up under his blanket as Alistair left the tent.
~o~O~o~
Alistair was relieved when Morrigan turned down his offer to pull a double watch, saying that she was happy to take her watch alone. Zevran said he would take his watch with Bane; even when asleep, the big hound always had an ear open. That left him to take his watch with Leliana, as usual.
The bard was unusually quiet and Alistair found himself missing her usual chattering.
"Is everything all right, Leliana?" he asked, seating himself on the log placed by the fire.
She sat down next to him. "It has been such a strange day. I think I am still trying to make some sense of it. First, there was Sten, then fighting our way through the temple, then finding the Urn. A curious mixture of barbarity and... I don't know quite how to express it. Seeing the Urn of Sacred Ashes was such a profoundly moving experience... it seems such a contrast to... all that had gone before."
"You're upset about Sten?" asked Alistair.
"It was such a shock," she admitted, "and it... it made me think of Marjolaine."
"Why?" asked Alistair, confused.
"It was what Fearghal said after. He accused Sten of insubordination. That is what Marjolaine said of me... how she justified betraying me."
"Oh, it's not the same, Leliana," protested Alistair. "Sten truly was in the wrong. Not for disagreeing with Fearghal, but the way he did it; he really didn't leave Fearghal any choice. Whereas Marjolaine, it sounds like she was trying to justify what she did. You were trying to protect her and she betrayed you, it's not the same thing at all." A thought occurred to Alistair. "You're not worried that Fearghal would... ?"
"I do not know, Alistair. A part of me thinks not but... he is so angry sometimes. He carries so much locked up inside of him; he is like... un volcan, some little thing triggers it and it erupts."
Alistair sighed. "I don't know what to say, Leliana, except that I truly believe that even at his worst I don't believe Fearghal would kill you or any of us merely for disagreeing with him. He might shout and rage, yes, but he only killed Sten because Sten was trying to kill him."
Leliana nodded her head. "You are probably right. Ignore me, I am being foolish." She looked around at the tent where Fearghal slept. "Who was that man we saw in the Gauntlet?"
"That was Fearghal's father."
"Ah, of course. I should have seen it, they have the same eyes. I think the Gauntlet was a bigger ordeal for him than for any of us. Still, maybe better for him in the long run, yes? If he can make peace with his past."
"I hope so, Leliana," Alistair agreed fervently.
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Date: 2011-02-16 10:53 am (UTC)Seriously, though, seeing how much Alistair has grown throughout this is amazing. It feels very gradual, and natural.
Now...hot man-loving, right? *g*
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Date: 2011-02-16 02:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 02:46 pm (UTC)*snorfle*
Ahhh, I love it when Alistair starts to step up.
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Date: 2011-02-16 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:21 pm (UTC)*waves pompoms*
While you're on a roll... go give him a kiss.
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Date: 2011-02-16 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-16 07:42 pm (UTC)It's not the despair; I can stand the despair. It's the hope!