DAO: The Warden's Journey

Title: The Warden's Journey

Author: Phsbarbie (Natasha Poe)

Game: Dragon Age Origins

Characters/Pairings: Alistair & Female Cousland(Angel)

Disclaimer: Dragon Age Origins and all it's characters are the intellectual property of Bioware/EA.


    "Angel, you're not going and that's final," I state in my best, most authoritative, most kingly voice. It's pretty good, if I say so myself. I have had ten years to practice it. And I have practiced it, until it's just the right tone to let whoever I'm addressing know I mean business.

    My queen, however, simply snorts, not bothering to look up from her packing. "I find it funny that you think you have any say in this."

    I slump down onto our bed with a sigh and examine my headstrong wife. To say the years have been kind to her would be an understatement. She's more beautiful now than the day I met her, and she still regularly makes my heart skip a beat. 

    Our lives have changed drastically since we defeated the blight, of course. Her long brown hair can now be found to be styled for court on a daily basis and silk gowns have replaced leather armor. Though she still carries daggers they're hidden instead of strapped on her hips and I know it's been at least a month since she threatened anyone with them. A sign of maturity, I think.

    Yet through all the changes, after all the years of hardship and responsibility laying on her shoulders, her lips still regularly quirk in that familiar smile, her eyes still glitter with life and laughter. And, as should be obvious by her response, her attitude hasn't changed any. 

    A decade has passed since we gave up our life of adventuring, trading it for one of ruling and rebuilding Ferelden, but to look at Angel today you'd think not a thing has changed. And I mean that quite literally. She's finished sharpening her daggers and slides them into place on the hips of her freshly oiled armor. Her hair is pulled back simply, ready for battle and the boots strapped to her feet are not made for delicately walking through a castle. More like stomping through the wilderness. In short, she looks as she did the day I met her, the day my life shifted course. And I'm terrified. 

    I run my hands through my hair, tempted to pull it all out. "At least let me come with you. Give me a week. I'll set up a temporary council to rule on our behalf..."

    She's already shaking her head no before I finish, her back still turned to me. "We've talked about this, Alistair. Ferelden needs her king."

    "Perhaps," I respond, "but I need my queen."

    She continues as if I haven't spoken. "We don't need a repeat of the Loghain situation, and you know one of the nobles would make a grab for the throne. We've worked too hard rebuilding this kingdom to start it all over again."

    My shoulders sag in despair and I stare at the floor. "I'd gladly abandon my throne if it would keep you safe." The sound of her packing ceases and an instant later she's stepped between my legs. Her soft hand raises my chin to look her in the eyes, a gentle smile on her face. 

    "I know that, love, I know. But I'll be fine. I am the Hero of Ferelden after all," she says, trying to tease a smile out of me. She fails. 

    "I can't lose you," I tell her, my voice sounding broken.

    She smooths her hands through my hair, trying to soothe me. Fat chance. "That's why I have to go, or you will lose me. And I'll lose you too. The taint is going to give us, what? Ten more years? That's not enough, Alistair. I can't lose you to the Calling. I won't."

    I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close, resting my head on her chest. Her words are true, I know, but I also know they're not her real reason for finding a cure. "It's not your fault," I tell her. 

    She's silent so long I don't think she's going to respond, but she does, so quietly it's barely above a whisper. "I know."

    I don't believe her. With a sigh I pull Angel even closer, so nothing could possibly exist between us. She lays her cheek on top of my head.

    It's been six weeks since she lost the baby, this one a bit over three month along. It was farther than any of the others; I think that's why she allowed herself hope. It's happened maybe half a dozen times over the last ten years. The wonderful news that we're expecting, followed by the heartbreaking news that the child couldn't survive the taint in her system.

    I've come to accept it over time. I've taken comfort in the fact that I'd rather have a childless life with my wife than have a dozen children with anyone else. I've hardened myself to it. But Angel... it breaks her heart every time. 

    She loves me, I know this, adores me as I do her, though I'm not sure why. But she knows what she's missing. She grew up with a loving mother and father, an older brother, even a nephew, a family torn away from her by Arl Howe's betrayal. It's no wonder she wants that again, that she wants me to have it for the first time. And it kills her that we can't. 

    "We don't really need to provide an heir," I insist, knowing the court's complaints aren't helping anything. "We can name Teagan next in line."

    She chuckles, the sound vibrating through my body. "Have you taken a good look at Teagan lately? He seems to have aged 30 years in the last 10." She has a point there. "Besides, that's not what this is about." I snort. "Not the only thing this is about," she allows. "Not even the main thing."

    "If I don't look convinced," I tell her, raising my head to meet her gaze, "it's because I'm not."

    She sighs. "Alistair, what would you do if I began to hear the Calling before you?"

    "Follow you into the Deep Roads," I respond instantly, not needing even a moment to think on it.

    She smiles softly at me. "And when it comes for you first, what do you think I'll do?"

    The thought alarms me. "I wouldn't have you sacrifice yourself for me, not for all the world."

    "Nor would I you, but one of us is bound to follow after the other. I won't let that happen," she says, looking as fierce as the day she killed the Archdemon. "I won't become another victim of fate. I am nobody's victim."

    I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I of all people know how stubborn my wife is, and there will be no changing her mind on this. I study her features, her blue eyes begging me to understand, and I give in. Not that it would make much difference if I didn't. She'd go anyway.

    "If a single month passes without word from you I'll abandon the throne and come after you, I swear it," I warn. 

    The smile that lights up her face is stunning. "I would expect no less." She kisses me, her lips clinging to mine, and I wonder how I'll be able to breathe with her gone.

    "Stay safe, my love," I tell her, trying to cover the sound of my heart breaking. "If you go to the Maker's side I'll live only long enough to avenge you before following after."

    She seems to be drinking me in, memorizing how I look in this moment. "Warn any assassins that come for you I'll do the same." She fetches her pack and returns to kiss me goodbye, a kiss I use to attempt to fuse my soul with hers. That way not all of me has to be without her.

    Angel turns to leave but pauses at the door, turning back to look at me with a teasing smile on her face. "Farewell, my love. I look forward to find you waiting for me upon my return. You make a pretty damsel."

    And then with a wink she's gone, leaving me sitting alone on a bed that still smells of her, something that I can tell will be both a torment and a comfort in the weeks to come. I do my best to struggle against the tears trying to surface; it won't do me any good to show up to the council meeting with red eyes. I brush away one or two as I lose the battle. 

    "As long as you promise to come back to me, my Angel, I'll wait for you forever."