Seen me around and want to hit me up for a thread? Drop a prompt or starter here and I'll run with it. Anything goes - gen, smut, horror, whatever takes your fancy.
[ At first, she had thought that it was the false Calling. It had been, for so many; even in and around the Deep Roads, she'd heard that the Grey Wardens were all hearing their Calling at the same time, panicking as death reached out with spindly fingers and beckoned them to death all at once. Luckily, the Inquisition had learned of the cause, along with a few of the stronger Wardens, but the toll was steep. Clarel and Erimond took things into their own hands, employing blood magic in a frantic and desperate attempt to save the order from complete extinction... though, thankfully, not all had gone along with the last-effort plan. While Wardens across Thedas feared that their ends had come, turned to forbidden magic and demons to save them, to try and prevent future Blights, it had been for nothing. The Calling was an imitation, and that knowledge had come at the price of countless lives on both sides of the field, and more.
Far from it all, away from Adamant when Alistair Theirin fell into the Fade and never came back, Robyn Cousland, the former Hero of Ferelden, knew her time had come. Immediately, and with deep, abiding regrets, she wrote to the handful of people close to her, to those she trusted. Without knowing the events of Adamant, she wrote to Alistair, too, and Leliana, who she knew was working within the Inquisition. I hear the music, Robyn said, and before she could actually up and go to the Deep Roads, the spymaster had turned up at her doorstep. So to speak, anyway; the Warden had been living in caves near Orzammar at the time and hadn't been surprised at all to see her old friend appear outside of it. Wearily, gratefully, Robyn reunited with Leliana, but it was far from an easy-going, social visit. After all, one of them was unquestionably dying, and the other one had bad news of her own.
Left in the Fade. Robyn's heart thudded dull and useless in her chest as it fought to both protect her from the taint and rebelled against what she'd heard. No. The Inquisitor hadn't been able to save them all, had needed to make a difficult decision. Robyn knows that need as well as anyone, having made more than one impossible choice, herself, but this one filled her with a bitter anger that was more or less completely unknown. The Warden had steeled her expression and kept any tears from falling, but Leliana knew, perhaps better than anyone, what the loss of Alistair meant to her. What it meant that she hadn't been there to save him. What it meant that she couldn't say goodbye.
... Except. Except, the real reason that the redhead had made the journey was to offer an alternative. One that she couldn't exactly provide, but that she could point out. So, without much choice and, really, with more hope than she'd felt in... years, Robyn set out with Leliana back to Skyhold. She'd never been to the fortress that belonged to the Inquisition, and as far as anybody else knew, she never would. Under cover of night, the pair slipped back into the mountain base, immediately went to the gardens that, now, were empty.
Except for two people. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him, a boy of (almost exactly) ten, dark in his features and very close to Morrigan's, except... the ears. Her breath catches almost painfully as a rush of mingled surprise, pain, and some other, indeterminable feeling overwhelms her. There isn't enough time to talk about it, but she manages a smile, and the boy, Kieran, manages one, too. Leliana, Morrigan, and Robyn stand together for the first time in a decade, eyeing each other with a lot unspoken and with the knowledge that it will be the last time.
"You gave him to me, once," Morrigan said, with a softness to her tone that the Warden hadn't expected. "'Tis only fair that I give him back to you."
It wasn't long after that, after short goodbyes and one, final ritual (for once, not involving blood magic) that Robyn found herself in the Fade. Physically in a Fade, in a way she had never been before, wide-eyed and afraid. Now, standing where she'd entered with no way back to Thedas, she finds herself much more unsure than she'd been just a moment ago. What if he's already-... But, she can't think that way, can't believe for a second that she won't have the time she so desperately needs with the person she loves and trusts more than anything. They'd promised to return to each other after her search for the cure, after his work with the Inquisition, yet here she is with that promise in limbo.
No. She steels herself, feeling much older than ever, and wanders into the wasteland, into the in-between world.
The Warden searches for what feels like days, though she knows from dreams that time is a vast illusion in the Fade. She has her weapons, encounters a demon or unfriendly spirit every so often, but nothing quite as terrifying as her own fears. If she comes across his body, if she's too late, then the trip might have been for nothing... if she hadn't already been dying, anyway.
It's a relief beyond reliefs when she sees something glinting in the distance, something she recognizes beyond a shred of doubt as the armor of a Grey Warden. More than that, she recognizes the body, the posture, the short slick of hair, even at a distance. She would know that man anywhere, and she feels dizzy with the knowledge that she hadn't been too late. That she wouldn't be made a liar. ]
What might such a handsome Grey Warden like yourself be doing in a place like this?
[ He may well think she's a demon, or a spirit, but Robyn is willing to try and prove herself to him for as long as she's still herself. Her voice carries in a strange echo across the distance between them. There's an emotional waver to it and her eyes, too far from Alistair for him to see, are glistening with the enormity of what she feels right now, with everything they've been through, with the knowledge that it's all coming to an end. Together, though. Together again, for good this time.
[It would have made a brilliant tale. Alistair of the Grey Wardens facing down a giant nightmare demon all alone, valiantly buying time for his companions to escape - it was just a pity about the ending. Good stories simply did not end with the hero wandering about the Fade until he died or went mad. Of course, he'd figured out a long time ago his life wasn't the sort that made for a good story. He was just a side character in other people's tales. He was alright with that but whoever was in charge could have written him a better ending.
Or one with better scenery at the very least. The Fade was not a pretty place when wide awake and the company rather left a lot to be desired.
He's been wandering aimlessly since the rift was sealed, the backlash tossing him free of the Nightmare and leaving him marooned the Maker only knew where. Which is likely the only reason he's still alive. His injuries from the fight have stopped hurting which may or may not be a good sign, and he has yet to grow hungry or thirsty - whether that is because of where he is or simply that very little time has passed it's impossible to tell. It feels like he's been here for years already yet he's no more in need of a shave than when the Inquisition's forces marched on Adamant.
Why the old Magisters ever wanted to enter the Fade he'll never know.
On the plus side, he does get plenty of visitors, even if he's yet to make any new friends no matter how hard they try. In fact, it looks like one is trying again right now. Alistair turns at the familiar voice, not even a little surprised to hear it here and now.]
Is that the best line you can come up with? It takes more than a little flattery to sweep me off my feet, I'll have you know.
[Smiling easily he draws his sword, still miraculously by his side, his gaze sweeping over the familiar form critically.
However long he's been here, this isn't the first time he's been approached by someone he knows. It had been difficult the first time a demon took Robyn's form. He'd known in his heart it couldn't really be her but it had been so long and he'd wanted to pretend so badly. There wasn't even the fear of doing harm to others should he let a demon influence him to hold him back - he was trapped here and the only one who could get hurt was him. It would have been easy to play along but it would have been a betrayal to the real Robyn, wherever she was. So in the end he'd driven it off and been left alone once more, however briefly.
Others had tried the same trick of course. Demons were nothing if not persistent. Robyn had appeared to him countless times in countless ways - rescuing, dreaming, dying, lost, waiting. Each one as false as the last.
They'd tried other guises too - his father, met only once in the Fade as well. Wynne as a spirit now herself, offering guidance once more. The Inquisitor and their allies come to bring him home. He'd almost believed the latter, hoping against hope that they'd found a way to open another rift and navigate the seemingly endless twists of the Fade just for him. But the Inquisition has bigger concerns than a single Grey Warden who chose his fate.
And the Hero of Ferelden has been gone on her quest for a cure since long before he wound up here.
Truthfully he can't raise his blade against it, not while the demon still wears Robyn's face but it will slip eventually. They all do. Until then it is nice to have a conversation with something that talks back for once.]
What brings you out here then? Come to see the sights? I'd offer you my map but I lost it the last time the floor decided it wanted to become the roof.
[It's very rude when that happens. And painful. And utterly disorientating which he guesses is rather the point, as though he could get much more lost.]
Oh, I know that. I wasn't the most practiced with my flirting, but it did take some gifts and suggestive comments to lure you into my tent.
[ She knows (already knew) that he believes her to be a demon. It's what she would think, and... honestly, what she had expected to find, herself. But, the demons haven't tried to win her over, and she suspects it's because she wouldn't be suitable for possession, having a failing body filled past its limits with the poison of the taint. It's fortunate that she hasn't had to spend much of her precious, remaining time warding off false Alistairs, seeing them in various states of death and despair, because convincing the real one of her identity won't be easy. ]
I am no demon. I'm the spirit of a woman much younger and much braver.
[ She quietly notes the sword, and in a distant, empty moment, considers what would happen if she rushed him. If he might kill her, a "demon" with Robyn's face. She'll have to seek out death sooner or later, a fate she's accepted, because the alternative, to rot away into a ghoul, isn't a choice at all. ]
We can just talk, if you like. [ No, she can't have him kill her without realizing who she is; the purpose of her finding him was to reunite, after all. To say goodbye. And... that would be too selfish, too horrible.
Robyn sits cross-legged on the ground, setting her crossbow aside. ]
I came here for... a few reasons. [ Briefly, she examines her fingers, calloused and rough from years of fighting. I'm hardly the girl who was taken from Highever all those years ago. ] But the most important was to find someone who gave his life to save others and to redeem a forsaken order. To seek out the Warden who made a promise and was left to die without saying goodbye to her.
[ Robyn eyes him from a short distance away, expression and tone anything but condemning. She can't help it; she blames the Grey Wardens for their weak minds, for blindly following a corrupted leader. She blames the Inquisition for having to sacrifice other people not in the organization because there was no other plan. She blames herself, most of all, for leaving the world worse than when she'd found it with no cure and, most crucially, without Alistair to carry on. ]
The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword....
[ She whispers, breath catching, suddenly afraid, and anguished, and-
Calm. Time, time is running out, and what she can do is to talk to him, to be with him. To apologize. To say a real goodbye. ]
... I remember when we first went into the Fade, [ Robyn begins quietly, eyes closed, recalling. ] When I found you, they showed you... visions of Goldanna and her children, and I felt so awful at taking you from that.
[ The Warden opens her eyes again, frowning, looking intensely world-wearied. ]
I'm sorry you never found the family you wanted, Alistair.
[His blade wavers, dipping towards the ground as her - its - words seem to sap the strength from him. Swallowing against the tightness in his throat, Alistair forces his smile back, more of a pained grimace than anything now.]
That's just mean. And unnecessary.
[It's a good double, he'll give the demon that. One of the best he's seen. Most of the others have had something... off about them. They don't sound right somehow. They're just imitating emotions they've never felt and can't understand, going through the motions perfectly but there's no depth to it. Or perhaps he's fooling himself and it's just the fact that he knows that every time he sees her face or one of the other familiar faces that have appeared to him that it can't be anything but a denizen of the Fade. He's alone here and will be for as long as he has left.
And now this creature appears and has the nerve to know exactly what to say to hurt him. Because it sounds so much like his Robyn and he would have given anything for the chance to say goodbye, it's true.
Despite his better sense Alistair moves closer to where she sits, taking in all the little details, the work the demon has put into this disguise. The signs of corruption as her tainted blood gets the better or her, the weariness and sorrow in her eyes... His heart clenches painfully and he has to look away, turning his attention to the twisted, unnatural landscape around them.
It's a demon, not real. The real Robyn is still out there somewhere. She might have even found her cure by now. He knows it's possible, he spoke to Grand Enchanter Fiona himself, hoping she might be able to tell him something he could send on to his absent lover to aid her quest. There had been nothing but he knows it's possible to cure the taint. If anyone can manage it she can. She will. They'll never see each other again but if she can live a long, fulfilling life then he doesn't mind not being able to share it with her.
Or with the family he never had.
Shrugging he leans back against an outcropping that wasn't there a second ago, sword seemingly forgotten in his hand.]
I found what mattered. Or she found me. Not everyone gets that. To be happy.
[Looking down at the achingly familiar shape again he finds himself wondering about it. It doesn't seem to want anything from him. Maybe it's just being patient or maybe it really is willing to just talk. Whatever the reason, it's still not the same as seeing the real Robyn one last time.... but he can let himself have this for now.]
And we were happy. The Inquisitor asked me about that you know. If we'd been happy. At the time I thought, once all was said and done, we'd be together again. Forever. [He chuckles, shaking his head ruefully.] See how well that worked out. [Heaving a sigh he looks back at it.] I got more than I deserved, I just wish- Ah, what does it matter? You already know and it doesn't change anything.
[ The last thing she wants to do is to hurt him, but she knows he'll have to realize the truth in his own time. He's smart, but stubborn, like her. Grown distrustful and world-wearied after so much time and so much loss. Robyn watches as he gets closer, unsure if it's a good sign, or an indication that he's giving up. Her chest twists painfully, heart going out to him with all the energy it has. ]
You deserved so much more. [ She says gently, though the mention of the Inquisitor sends a flare of anger coursing through her. ] You deserve a long and happy life away from all this. Free of demons and of the taint.
[ At least he wouldn't die because of it. It's a horrible thought, but she's the tiniest bit thankful that he, at least, won't be killed at the hands of the darkspawn or its poison. If she has her way, it'll be the same for her, though even as she thinks it, there's a streak of pain as it settles into her blood, infecting every corner of her body, gradually transforming her from human to monster. She swallows with difficult, feeling like a child for the tears that sting at her eyes, and in her mind she hears "afraid, afraid, afraid," as if there's something in the Fade that's finally found something worth taunting her about, lost case though she is. ]
We will be together. [ At the end, and beyond, she thinks. ] Somewhere... much better than all this. Somewhere worthier of you.
[ Whether that be at the Maker's side or otherwise, she's always believed that there is (has to be) more after their deaths. That she'll see her family again, and the others they'd lost along the way. ]
... Alistair, please. [ The Warden says suddenly, almost desperately, as another sudden jolt pulses through her. Can he see it in my skin, in my eyes? ] I-... I know you don't believe me, and I can hardly blame you. I know what you must have seen in here and how hard is can be to forget. To believe.
[ To believe that there could be one, last chance for them to be together, for so many other things. Wildly, she thinks that she ought to have made some kind of list of all the things she wanted to say, that she should have written him another letter that would actually reach him... but, she hadn't done either of those things. ]
The music is so loud, now. [ Robyn whispers, pleading. ] I don't know how much longer I can stay.
[ She can't ask him to kill her if he still thinks she's a demon, after all, and the idea of having to walk away without him knowing that she'd come to see him is... excruciating. ]
And she didn't deserve to watch her family die and get dragged into the Wardens. [He offers the demon a half-smile.] I won't pretend I'm not grateful all the same. I'm too selfish to put her happiness before my own.
[Not completely. Oh, he'd do anything for Robyn, to make her happy. But he's still perversely grateful for the murder of her family. If Howe had never turned on them then the two of them would have never met. And looking back he can't imagine getting to this point without her.
...Well. Getting to the point of standing against the entire order when they started talking about blood magic. The getting trapped in the Fade was definitely all him.]
So maybe this is entirely worthy of me.
[It is oddly comforting though, the demon's - spirit's? - words. A reminder that somewhere beyond this they'll see each other again. Free of the taint and duties and quests and everything that's kept them apart over the years. It's something to hold on to, even as he watches the apparition struggle against some illusory pain, mirroring the spreading darkness it pretends to feel.
Something else the demon says tugs at him in the wake of its impressively emotional plea. The music, the taint... It's the strangest thing. Has he felt the corruption in the previous 'Robyns' who appeared? It's there now, as strong and familiar as anything. None of the others he's seen were claiming to be feeling the true Calling so it had no reason to be this strong. But he can't recall any of them giving a sense of the taint that should have been in their blood. This one has copied it perfectly and the realisation claws at him with uncertainty.
He shifts back, hand flexing on the hilt of his sword as he stares at it suspiciously, silent in the face of its plea.
Finally, slowly, Alistair closes the remaining distance between them and drops to one knee in front of... whatever this is. His blade stays between them, resting lightly against his upraised knee as a barrier should it decide to attack. Carefully he reaches out to cup her chin in his free hand, studying a face he knows as well as his own. It's changed now, reminding him of the poor souls he's seen who'd succumbed to the taint. If this were real she wouldn't have long.
He remembers the music she speaks of too well. The false Calling at the least. Surely she can't be hearing it, can't be this far gone. Not the real Robyn. She's found a cure to this and is out there somewhere, cleaning up Clarel's mess or helping the Inquisition stop Corypheus or something. Anything.
She can't truly be here, almost lost to the corruption. It can't be.]
You're lying. [Even to himself it sounds like a plea.] You're just another demon.
[His hand tightens unconsciously on her jaw, his own drawing tight with pain and uncertainty.]
How could she have even gotten here? Why even come looking for me? Tell me that, if you expect me to believe you.
You are about as far from selfish as anyone could be.
[ Either king, thankless servant to his country, or Grey Warden, thankless servant to his country. Alistair's life has been trial after trial, and yet he smiles and laughs and brings the same to others. Her heart aches, looking at him surrounded by the twisted darkness of the Fade, left behind by people who didn't know him, who didn't love him. He saved them, she reminds herself patiently, but the words sit on her shoulders like weights rather than sinking in as truth.
No, he doesn't deserve this. Not at all. And she isn't so masochistic to think that she does, either; in fact, there are few people that she would say do deserve being abandoned in the Fade, still alive and left to wander and die alone. Still, it's difficult not to feel pinpricks of self-loathing as she thinks of the people she'd let down by failing to find a cure, of the work that could have been done if she'd survived to help rebuild. If she'd been able to take Alistair's place at Adamant so that he, at least, could live.
He approaches and she doesn't move, not wanting to startle him into action. Really, she's also feeling tired, weak in body and mind, and it's all she can do to not let herself fall into his arms and stay there until she isn't herself anymore.
Instead she keeps very still, moving only to gently cover his hand in one of her own at her jaw, the touch of a ghost. ]
Morrigan. [ Robyn says softly, knowing the animosity he and the apostate have always had (though, she isn't sure how much, if at all, they spoke during his work with the Inquisition, since she had also been there, in Skyhold). ] She was able to send me into the Fade, but she warned that it would be a one-way trip.
[ Of course. If it were that easy to traverse the Fade, physically, then the world would be a very different place. She manages a fleeting, pained smile as his grip on her tightens. ]
I think she wanted to thank me. [ The Warden whispers. ] For Kieran.
[ For indirectly giving her a son. What had it meant, the soul of an old god in that little boy? She hadn't noticed, hadn't had the time to scrutinize. He'd seemed so normal and now she would never know what it had meant that she'd convinced the man she loved (loves, always) to lie with another woman that night. To trust her enough to go into the arms of someone he hated to save them both.
Now that they're both dying only a decade later with not much time spent together in between, she wonders with a rattling emptiness if it had even been worth it. ]
I came here because I had to. I promised. [ Her voice shakes a little, wavering with the emotion that threatens to overtake her. ] I would never leave you alone. I wouldn't have stopped until I found a way, no matter what the cost.
[ Though, she hadn't even paid for this trip. The taint that was taking her life so much more quickly than it should is her own fault. ]
I would do anything for you, no matter how impossible.
[Her hand is pale against the dark leather of his glove, the skin mottled with dark patches. The touch of one almost consumed by the taint. Or a very good imitation of it.
The explanation for her presence is painfully believable. If anyone could manage this feat it would be Morrigan. It seems she's only grown more knowledgeable - more dangerous maybe - since they first met all those years ago. And yet he remembers seeing her with the boy - their son, as much as it aches to admit that fact. She'd been good with him. A good mother, surprisingly enough, and being one had changed her. Morrigan herself had scoffed when he'd said as much but it was true. She cared for her son, anyone could see that and it was reassuring to know that Kieran was being raised by someone who loved him.]
You met him?
[He can't help but ask. It tugs at him, the thought of Robyn and Kieran meeting. Of course she knew about him, had been the one to talk Alistair himself into the ritual that had saved their lives. But knowing that he had a child out there and meeting him were two very different things. If Robyn had seen Kieran herself it couldn't have been easy for her - serving as another reminder of the things she'd given up when she joined the Wardens.
He'd wondered, after seeing Kieran the first time, what he would have looked like with Robyn as his mother. What it would have been like to make themselves a family, free of the Wardens and the taint and everything. It's too late for that now but he would have liked to be there when they met. For her sake.
When she mentions their promise to each other he shakes his head, trying to deny what he's hearing. Finally Alistair lets the sword drop and clatter to the ground between them, hands shifting to grip her shoulders tightly.]
Please. [The word is barely a whisper, laced with desperation.] Tell me this is all just some demon's ploy. I'll let you take whatever you want from me. Everything. Just tell me it's a lie.
[In his heart he knows it's true. The sense of the taint within her, the way she knows exactly what to say, her courage in the face of death. The promises they made. The sheer depth of feeling in every word. It's his Warden, his Robyn, really here in front of him. Trapped, just like him, while the corruption within her steals the life from her even faster than the Fade could.
Still, he pleads, wanting desperately to be wrong.]
Tell me she's fine. You can even tell me she's fallen in love with some... Orlesian dandy and they've run off together and never once think of me. I won't mind.
[Better that than they both die here, after everything they've been through. The Maker can't be that cruel. Not after everything they've already sacrificed for the greater good. She deserves more than to end like this.]
I did. [ Briefly, the most fleeting of moments. Morrigan had been trying to talk her out of what she'd asked, unsurprisingly, but gave in before too long (it wasn't as if Robyn could survive beyond that, anyway, with the taint). Leliana, sharp as always, had watched discretely as the Warden cast little glances at the boy who was Alistair's and not hers. She remembers that night as if it had been one day earlier, when every fiber in her being had say no, but she'd convinced him anyway, unable to imagine him lying cold in her arms, but perfectly able to imagine him rushing past her to make the final blow. She could give her own life in an instant, but if there was something to keep him alive, anything-
And he'd thought he was selfish. She utters a tiny, dry sob, overwhelmed with all the things that the two of them together had been through, how it's all come down to this. Two Grey Wardens, heroes of the Fifth Blight, dying together, and alone, in another world. ]
He seemed good, Alistair. [ She says, hand still covering his. ] A normal boy.
[ Maybe not normal, exactly, but not darkspawn. Not a demon. Just a little boy with a strange story and Alistair's ears.
The sword falls and she starts, senses somehow ramped up, now, just before the end. He grabs to steady her and she lets it happen, feeling more and more as if the most perfect thing in the world would be to lean in to his touch and let herself slip away... except, that isn't an option at all, and so she steels herself, feeling crushed beneath the anguish that he gives off like waves of heat.
Should she have spared him this grief and lied? Acted the part of a demon, not been quite so... herself, and let him ignore or kill her? If he believed that the real Robyn was somewhere else, living a long and happy life, would he have been a little happier, here, even alone and dying? But, even as she tries to picture it, she knows that it would be going against everything they'd built their relationship on. Not kindness, but truth. She had told him all she knew about the dark ritual and he had gone through with it. Not kindness, but truth. She had left in search of the cure and left him because someone had to guide the Wardens when there was no one left. Not kindness, but truth.
And now- ]
An Orlesian? [ Suddenly, she laughs, very brief and breathless. ] Now you're just being insulting.
[ Maybe the Maker is cruel. All her life, she's believed in Him, but they're taught that He abandoned them for their sins. Still, she believes in Him, but she also believes in Alistair. Believes that there has to be something better for people like him, for all of their friends.
He's gripping her shoulders, and she moves to cup his face, as if they're finally seeing each other for the first time. ]
I would sooner enter the Fade to die than marry an Orlesian. [ Robyn says finally, smiling as much as her broken heart will allow. ]
[Not exactly a normal boy, no. But a good one maybe. One who will grow into a good man he hopes. He should have been ours he wants to say but it's too late for that. For both of them. It was too late when they met and it's far, far too late now.]
I've met some reasonable Orlesians.
[He laughs along with her because what else is there to do?
It's real. Not a demon's trick but the real Robyn Cousland, Hero of Ferelden, here with him. Trapped and tainted and dying, just the two of them alone in the Fade.]
I'm sorry. I thought-
[He shakes his head, eyes closing as he leans into her hands. She knows what he thought and why. He still wishes it were true, that this was a demon and he could picture her happy and safe somewhere. But it would be so much worse to let her die alone in the Deep Roads without him. He would have followed her without question if her Calling came before his. Instead here they are. Maybe it's not so different in the end.]
You didn't find it. The cure.
[It had seemed such an impossible task when they first spoke of it but he'd thought if anyone could do it she could. She's achieved so much that had seemed impossible at first, he'd hoped this would just be another impossibility added to her list of accomplishments. And instead here she is, the true Calling having come for her while he wasn't there.
It's real.
Robyn is here with him. Dying here with him.
Making a soft, choked sound Alistair pulls her closer and wraps his arms around her, face pressed against her neck.
He must have had a thousand conversations with her in his head while he was stuck here alone. There's so much he wants to say and now that she's here most of it seems so pointless. Everything but-] I'm sorry. Maker, I'm so sorry. I should have-
[He stops. Should have what? Much as he hates knowing she came to this point alone, what could he have done differently? Even if he'd known how little time she had left and what awaited him at Adamant, the Wardens had needed to be stopped. They could have destroyed all of Thedas if they weren't. But it feels so damned unfair. Wasn't stopping the Blight enough? Why did it have to be them standing against the order? Them giving up what time they had together for a world that scarcely seems to remember them? It's not fair and while that's nothing new, this injustice cuts deeper than most.
Pulling back eventually he attempts a smile, just as fragile and wavering as her own is.]
I'm glad I rank higher than marrying an Orlesian. You're too beautiful a sight to miss.
[Falling prey to the taint or not, she truly is. Beautiful as they day they first met.]
[ No. She hadn't found the cure. It would be her biggest failure, her biggest regret, the mistake that haunted her into death and after, she thinks. Despite years of searching, of investigations and interrogations, of all the time she'd spent alone all over Thedas, mostly in the Deep Roads, held together only by the idea of sparing the lives of the other Wardens and, most of all, of being able to save Alistair's life as he had hers, to be able to have normal lives and a family together after so many trials. They had done what the Maker called for and more, more than most, but it hadn't been enough.
Regret is in every inch of her face as she shakes her head, trying very hard to find the words to give voice to how she'd let them all down. ]
I couldn't. [ She laments, voice again wavering. ] I did everything I could think of, I looked... everywhere. I thought I had it, I tried more than once, and I think it... did the opposite, really. Made the taint more aggressive, rather than eliminating it.
[ Robyn attempts a smile as if to say "and here I am," but it comes off as crushed, vastly unhappy with her own efforts. With her results, or lack thereof. ]
... But, in the end, I accomplished nothing and saved no one. Even if I had found a cure, it would never have reached you. [ Another failing. She tightens her hands into fists as they slip from his face to atop his shoulders, shaking. ] It should have been me there, not you. They looked for me, but I kept on with the search, and you had to be the one to step forward. You were brought here and I wasted years.
[ With nothing to show for it except her failing body. At the word beautiful she laughs abruptly, almost dryly, and has to look away as a flush of shame reddens her pale cheeks. ]
You- Don't. [ Tears sting fresh at her eyes and she drops her hands, closing in around herself, overcome. ] I know what... what I am.
[ What I look like, too, not that it matters. It's just another reminder, though, of what's happened to her. Of what will still happen, and not too much farther into the future.
Finally, she pushes herself to meet his eyes again, to search his face. He looks so alive, still, healthy and whole, except that he's in the Fade. It hurts her more intensely than the taint ever could. ]
I was afraid I wouldn't get to see you. [ "Before." ] I wrote, before I heard about Adamant, but... they say that couriers aren't especially fond of delivering into the Fade.
[ Maker, if jokes could save them. If anything could. ]
[All that work to try and save them and all it resulted in was her speeding her own death. The irony is almost too much to bear. It's worse knowing for a fact that it is possible for a Warden to be freed from the taint, having met those who found an escape from their fate himself. But there's no escaping it for them. For her. He wouldn't have even cared if Robyn only managed to save herself and no one else. But even that is too much to ask it would seem.]
You tried. That counts for something.
[Even if it failed. Even if he wishes now she hadn't, if it meant she might have survived a few more years. Or maybe she wouldn't have, given it was her quest that had kept her away from the fight with the Wardens. She could have no more sat back and let them turn to blood magic than he could.]
You know I wouldn't have let you face Clarel and the rest of them alone if you had been there. We both would have wound up here, even if you had stayed.
[His voice catches as he speaks. Would the battle have gone any differently with her there? Would more Wardens have been willing to listen to the Hero of Ferelden and not fallen prey to the Venatori? There's no way to know now and nothing to be gained from dwelling on it. They're here now and all he can do is make the most of this moment.
Stroking her cheek gently Alistair refuses to look away from her, his gaze soft as he watches her.]
What you are is the woman I feel in love with. Nothing will ever change that. No taint or demon or even the Maker Himself.
[Her current appearance is just a reminder of how much she'd given up for the hope of a future. It hurts to see her like this but he could never turn his back on her for it. Not when, even at their worse, she still manages remind him of the many reasons he fell in love with her. Chuckling softly he hums in agreement. Leliana would have done everything in her power to track Robyn down and inform her of his fate but even she had limits.]
No, they're strangely reluctant. Even Leliana's ravens don't like coming here. It's rather selfish if you ask me.
[Cradling her face he leans in to kiss her softly, turning serious once more as he pulls back.]
I'm glad you came. I hated not being able to say goodbye.
[Even if he'd never wanted it to happen like this. Better this perhaps than a lonely death in the Deep Roads though. And they're both stuck here now and no amount of wishing will change that.]
[ Yes, she tried and failed. They'd both set out on missions that would end up taking their lives, and it needles at her painfully, more so than the blight sickness. There's a brief, watery smile, because she knows that they would have fought, if they were together, would have argued about who should stay and who should go, and in the end, it's entirely possible that the pair of them would have remained in the Fade together. In death, sacrifice. A sacrifice in the name of Thedas (not the Inquisition, perhaps) and for the Grey Wardens is as good a death as any.
... But,it hadn't happened that way for Robyn. She hadn't been able to help any of their order, whether at Adamant or with a cure for the taint. Though she doesn't want to waste time voicing her regrets to him any longer, they fester in her heart, twisting with agonized thorns.
His declaration of love draws them back a little, though. She can remember as clearly as anything the early stages of their relationship, the easy banter of fellow Wardens, as friends, and then the hesitant admissions of feelings. What had been light and playful became deep and vulnerable and quiet nights of honest discussions near the campfire are as vivid in her memory as the Fade around them. ]
You've grown so much. [ Is what she says, adopting a ghostly smile, still with a hand cupping his jaw. ] We both have.
[ From essentially children to a man and woman devoted body and soul to their cause and to each other: the two reasons they'd ended up here in the first place. His kiss is like a breath of fresh air in the stale, unnatural wisps of the Fade, and she leans into it, eyes fluttering shut. Too quickly it's over and he withdraws, taking little pieces of her heart with him. ]
One of us has to keep our promises. [ Robyn chides, almost playful. Then, there's a sharp gasp as she jerks inward, curling into herself and whining softly. It zaps through her veins like an electric shock, but one that doesn't stop immediately. When it does, she's left shaking, hands gripping tight around herself, fingers digging into graying skin. ]
I don't know how long it takes. [ Her voice wavers and she looks up into his face, again stricken by how alive he looks, how normal and healthy. Maker, how could you bring him here and abandon him? Why him, after everything? ] ... Alistair, I can't-... become one of them. A ghoul, or-
[ A broodmother. She shudders, drawing further into herself, panic welling up like a dam about to burst. ]
[All the preparations were nearly complete. In a few short days Robyn would be heading westward, following this new lead that had sprung up. He was hopeful that this might be it, the cure they'd been searching for. And yet the timing could hardly be worse. After hearing of the Champion of Kirkwall's encounter with this Corypheus they'd had to look into it. Even almost a decade later the memories of the Blight are still strong enough that the very idea of another archdemon or something worse rising leaves him feeling ill. They can't risk it. It might well be there's nothing to worry about, that Hawke truly killed the creature and they're nothing but a pair of paranoid old Wardens. But they can't ignore the possibility it, or something like it, is still out there.
At the same time they can't let this opportunity for a cure pass them by. They might never get another chance if they do. It's something they've talked about before, in the years following the Blight. Avernus had been the first to get them thinking but he's not the only Warden to escape his Calling and so they'd wondered if they could do the same. A possibility that becomes more pressing with every year that passes. They've both been Wardens for coming on ten years and Robyn was recruited during a Blight, which only strengthens the taint. There's no telling how long either of them have left. If they miss this opportunity they might not survive to find another.
It won't be the first time they've been separated by duty. In the years following the Blight they'd had no choice - he'd been tasked with cleaning up the darkspawn still left on the surface and she'd been rebuilding Ferelden's Grey Wardens. It hadn't been easy then and the distance between them had been far less than it will be this time. Worse, she'll be alone without anyone to back her up if she runs into trouble. Splitting up like this is the only choice they have and neither of them are happy about it. They'd talked in circles over it again and again, always coming back to the same place and even now Alistair still wishes he could think of a way to talk her out of going or taking him with her.
If there was only someone else they could trust to investigate the rumours of Corypheus. If just one of Robyn's recruits were here and not off on their own assignments- But they're not. And so he's back to their only choice being to separate.
They've been virtually inseparable since they realised what they had to do, making the most of what time they have together before her departure. There's no knowing how long it will be before they see each other again and his heart aches just thinking about it. She'll be facing who knows what out there while he's stuck here listening to gossip. A necessary thing but it still chafes.
Enough of that.
Finally giving up on the old records he was looking over for some hint of this old prison Hawke had mentioned, Alistair abandons his work to come up behind Robyn. Brushing aside her hair he presses a kiss to the back of her neck, then leans over to peer at what she's doing, chin digging into her shoulder. He'd been trying not to interrupt her but he's had enough of mulling over their impending separation. And a small part of him wants to delay her departure however possible, as unreasonable as he knows that is.]
Are you sure we can't get Oghren to investigate these rumours?
[His voice is light though the joke would obvious either way because really. Oghren. But it's enough to let her know what's on his mind, why he's interrupting. He wants as many moments together to keep him company on the lonely nights to come. Any way to keep them together even with an entire nation separating them in the months to come. Somehow he doubts he's alone in that.]
[ The heroes who ended the Blight have been reduced to a pair attached at the hip (when they're in the same area, that is) who play cloak and dagger more often than not. Two Grey Wardens, shrouded in legend and rumors, speaking only of official business to most, but occasionally seen, when they think no one's looking, laughing and leaning in to each other, appearing a decade younger. The pair is an enigma to most, considering that those who know Robyn Cousland and Alistair Theirin are scattered to the winds, and they keep it that way by almost never indulging in storytelling about their travels during that time.
Robyn used to open up to everyone, bringing in new recruits to their ragtag group without a second thought, be they initiates having visions of the Maker or a convicted murderer and qunari. She spilled her stories to all of them and to strangers, too, flouncing across Ferelden and even through the bloodiest of battles until the archdemon was finally defeated. The time after... was harder, somehow. Likely because her closest friends and her lover were gone, physically separated, for a time, as she tried to rebuild what was left of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. She'd certainly met new people, had gained valuable friends and allies, but life as Warden-Commander wasn't the same. Maybe she hadn't expect to live through the Fifth Blight and had thus been more carefree about things. Now that life seems more and more certain (until the taint claims her, that is), things are... darker. There's a heavy air to the world these days, even ten years later, that can get under her skin and have her lying awake at night wondering for hours what it could possibly be that has had her uneasy for so long.
The rumors of a long-dead magister come back from the dead is no help. After her experience with the Architect-- in fact, she's looking over her own, old notes at the moment, eyes scanning the words of a younger Robyn with eternal weariness. After the Architect, the darkspawn had become more complicated and dangerous, and now... with the rumors surrounding the Champion of Kirkwall, his father, and his activities, she knows there's no escaping the seemingly-inevitable shadows that have been pressing in on them for years. There's something foul in the air at Weisshaupt and it makes her wrinkle her nose unintentionally, an expression that she is quick to abandon once a familiar hand brushes across her skin and lips are soon to follow. She rests her head against his when he leans forward at her shoulder, humming happily, brightened each and every time she's in his presence, no matter the circumstances. ]
Is Oghren really your first choice for the job? [ Robyn asks with a lilting laugh, cupping his opposite cheek with a hand and then turning to press a kiss to the one nearest her. ] My love, I think you've really and truly begun to lose your mind.
[ Maybe they both are. These days, she feels much, much older than she is. ]
But, if you insist... [ She murmurs, adopting a grave expression and making a show of reaching out for paper with which to write a letter. ] I'll send a raven now, dispatch him for an utterly crucial Grey Warden assignment. To Oghren, I mean. The dwarf that I remember being stinking drunk more often than he was... anything else.
[ Her tone and eventual grin suggest the fondness that she actually feels for their brother-in-arms, but that doesn't mean she'd send him out to investigate Corypheus on his own. ]
[Whether he's agreeing that he's lost his mind or that Oghren really is his first choice, she can decide. It's enough that he has her attention and not that old report on another darkspawn that insisted on causing trouble for them.
The Architect, Corypheus... it used to be simple, he's sure. All the old stories of past Blights and the darkspawn themselves never mention this sort of thing. Even most of the Wardens records have not a hint of there being truly intelligent darkspawn beyond the archdemons. Though as Alistair's coming to realise, that may be less because these things weren't known of before and more because of the Wardens' need for secrecy even from themselves. He's hardly in a place to judge. The two of them are keeping their share of secrets. The true reasons behind this journey of Robyn's. Their fears regarding Corypheus. How a Warden can survive slaying an archdemon. The Wardens have always kept secrets, often with good reason. But the hints they've managed to unearth so far make it seem like this is a dangerous one to have kept. One he hopes won't end up causing more trouble than it already has.
But he'll have ample time to dwell on all of this when he's alone. Now he has Robyn's hand warm against his cheek, bringing a smile to his face and he has to relish it while it lasts. Watching her reach for the paper he hums thoughtfully, as if seriously considering the prospect, and nods against her shoulder.]
He knows how to kill darkspawn. Maybe even better than I do. [The dwarf is a terrifying sight to behold in battle. Moreso knowing he's drunk even in the middle of the worst fight imaginable. Just think, if he fights like that drunk then maybe all they need to do is sober him up and the darkspawn won't stand a chance.] And along with his breath I think he could slay any ancient magister that dared raise its head.
[Which means the problem is sorted and he can accompany Robyn on her journey now. With that settled Alistair turns to kiss her cheek in return, murmuring in her ear-] It's not too late to let me come with you.
[He knows what the answer will be and why. But knowing doesn't make him hate it any less. So she's going to have to deal with him asking the same question right up until she leaves.]
Then, it's settled. [ She says crisply, beginning to "write a letter," meaning she mimes tracing a letter against the paper without actually holding anything in her hand, moving with flourish. ] I'll send for him right away, he'll solve everything, and we'll vanish into the night and become Orlesian cheese traders like we've always wanted to be.
[ She can't help it: the mention of their teasing, of one of the jokes that's traveled with them over the years, has her heart flutter with all of the feelings she has for him and she turns, abandoning the ruse. Robyn wraps her arms around his neck, leaning back slightly over the table and the still-blank parchment just behind her. The Warden nuzzles briefly at him with the tip of her nose, mostly trying to tickle him, finally coming to rest with their foreheads touching. ]
If I trusted anyone else enough for this, I would give them the job in an instant. [ Robyn says finally, smiling sadly. ] You know that I would.
[ If only they could give up their duties as Grey Wardens to live the rest of their lives together. Unfortunately for that dream, though, both are too invested in the order and in the heart of it all to do so. The only thing that could possibly stop them from being together, the only thing that's ever managed to keep them apart, has been their work for the Wardens. Sometimes, she tries to make herself resent it, to curse the order and its never-ending line of impossible and dangerous missions. It never lasts, though, and she ends up feeling helpless and guilty in the face of a cause that she would give everything for. She is giving everything for it: not returning home to Highever, parting ways with the man she loves with all her soul, eventually dying once her Calling claims her.
Robyn shifts closer, drawing him into a hug, breathing in the scent of him as she tilts her chin upward into the embrace, the scruff of his cheek tickling her own. ]
Promise me you won't grow a beard. [ She says suddenly, pulling back to study him, trying to keep the clear amusement from her lips. ] I would never recognize you if you did. I could stand in front of you and still wonder whatever had happened to the long-lost Alistair Theirin.
[He watches the 'letter' being written with approval, eyes bright with amusement at the idea of Oghren sweeping in to fix all their problems.] Perfect. Nothing would make me happier.
[Shifting back to give Robyn room to move, he leans close again as she holds him, letting some of his weight rest against her so she can't easily move away. Even as he's squirming at the faintly ticklish sensation of her nuzzling him Alistair is doing his best to commit every second they're together to memory. Resting a hand on the small of her back, the other comes up to cup the back of her head and he stares back down at her with the same besotted smile he's worn when they're alone since he'd first laid eyes on her, or so he'd claim. In truth it might have taken a little longer than that. But not much.]
I know, I know. [Yet knowing what must be done never makes doing it any easier. Sighing, he lets himself be pulled into an embrace, curling around her protectively. The moment doesn't last long as Robyn pulls back to make what is clearly an insult to his manliness. Looking down his nose at her severely Alistair frowns.]
You don't think I'd look ruggedly handsome with a beard? Something like Duncan's? You wound me. [The attempt at affront doesn't survive long as he kisses the tip of her nose before rubbing his own rough cheek against hers. He's grinning when he pulls back to meet her gaze again.] If it pleases my lady, I shall shave every day in anticipation of your return.
[Arching an eyebrow he asks-] Is there anything else you'd have me do in your absence my love? Shall I chronicle each day and how much I miss you? Or light a candle in the chapel every night you're gone, until the Maker himself has no choice but to take notice of my despair and bring you back to me?
[It's all in jest yet privately he thinks he'll be writing her every day, regardless of the fact that once she sets out getting any letters to her will be almost impossible. They'll just pile up in a drawer somewhere until she gets back and he has to decide whether to give them to her or burn them out of embarrassment. Which isn't even a question, of course he'll give them to her so they can laugh over how ridiculous he is.]
Nothing? [ She laughs lightly, briefly letting her mind wander to all of the many scenarios that she imagines would make him (and, in most of them, her) happy. There are a lot, but... unfortunately, it's easier to dream of them than to make them a reality. Their lives are intensely complicated and they're so infrequently together.
It says a lot about their relationship, though, that they've only grown closer and closer in the years that they'd rarely been in each other's company.
As such, Robyn gazes up at him, lost in his eyes, torn between memories and the present. No, I have to be here. Now. If she doesn't commit this to memory, she won't have as much to hold on to when she's alone, likely far below the ground. The Warden reaches up to press a light kiss to his lips, hovering there, raising a hand to trace the outline of his jaw. When she hugs him and he returns the gesture, she savors each second of his larger form draped over her, always feeling incredibly safe when he does, though the world is far from it. ]
You have your own rugged handsomeness, Warden mine. [ Again she laughs, a light giggle this time, gaze sweeping the prickle of hair outlining his face. When he leans in to nuzzle her, she cries out in surprise and delight, squirming to get away from his ticklish stubble. ]
Oh, don't do that. You know what I mean. [ Sometimes, men let their bears get out of control. Oghren's had been a sight, but that could have been a dwarven thing. There had been some days where Alistair himself, ten years younger, had neglected to shave, and though she hadn't really noticed, herself, Wynne or Leliana would make quiet suggestions to the other Warden sometimes when it happened. Whether or not they were doing it to try and encourage the young pair getting together, she has no idea, even now; why should their affections for each other have anything to do with what the hair on his face looks (looked) like? ]
Come with me. [ She mutters at a little whine, but she doesn't, can't, mean it. Someone has to stay with the order and settle the strangeness there, to look into Corypheus while a cure for their poisoned blood is found. Robyn peers demurely up at him, next adopting a saddened little pout, kissing along his not-beard, gradually making it all the way around. ] I'll be lonely in a tent all by myself. I've had it with not turning to find you there, snoring, in the middle of the night.
[ And for so many other reasons, but... he knows. She'll certainly miss his presence with a vigor the second they part ways. ]
Almost nothing. [Or, yes, a great many things some possible - her safe return from this journey - some far from it - the two of them living happily and safely together with a home and a family, never needing to worry about the darkspawn or the taint ever again. But this is what they have and he won't waste time on what could be while he still has Robyn here with him.
Tilting his head to press into her hand, Alistair smiles.] You're just saying that to get me to agree. And to stop. [Which just means he has to curl down and rub his face against her neck, the rough rasp of stubble against her skin quickly stopping in favour of pressing a kiss to the pulse at her throat. He's almost tempted to ignore the request, absurdly hoping for anything that might bring Robyn back faster even if it were simply to tease him for looking like an overgrown dwarf. A very handsome overgrown dwarf but still.]
I will. I'll follow you anywhere. [He can't but she has to - does - know it's still true. If he could he'd follow her wherever she was bound, down into the very depths of the Deep Roads without question. This Corypheus is really just selfish, raising his head after having not been heard of for centuries. He could have had the decency to wait until they've found this cure. The cure Alistair himself only half believes can be found but he believes in Robyn with every fibre of his being. If it can be done she'll find a way.]
But I don't snore so you'll be missing out there either way. [He's never heard himself snoring so clearly he doesn't. Any snoring she's heard in the past has been from her hound or other companions and he'll argue that to the bitter end when they're back to sleeping side by side as they should. Attempting to catch Robyn's mouth with his own as she kisses his face, Alistair murmurs-] I'll miss you too. Every time I have to wake up alone.
[Expression turning solemn he shifts back a little to give himself space. Reaching up and fishing under his shirt he tugs a familiar, cracked silver emblem of Andraste's Flame over his head and presses it into her hand.] I was going to wait till you were leaving but... take this with you. So I'll still be with you.
[ The moment she sees the medallion she looks almost startled, instinctively pressing it back toward him. ]
I could never. [ Robyn says firmly, eyes blazing with intention. ] Not after everything. I know what it means to you, and you'll be with me whether I've taken it from you or no. You always are.
[ The sentiment is one she'll hold close, but she can't bring herself to take his mother's token. She thinks of when she'd first found it in Redcliffe, unsure of what to make of the cracked thing. She thinks of his expression when she'd turned it over to him, how full of wonder and awe he'd seemed at Eamon's repairing of the gift. Robyn closes his fingers over it again, clasping both of her hands over his. ]
I want you to keep it. [ The Warden says firmly, looking up at him with stubborn determination. ] You may find you need its strength in what's to come, as a reminder of those who care for you.
[ Of his mother and his uncle, long gone. Of her, the young Grey Warden of a decade past and of the present--
She seems as if something dawns on her and steps away slowly, slipping her grasp from his. ]
... I've just thought of something, I'll... be right back.
[ And Robyn slips from the room. It isn't much later that she returns, looking a little breathless, hurrying back over to him with a strange kind of brightness to her eyes. ]
Maybe this isn't the time. [ She says quietly, a little flustered. ] But-- Maybe it's the only time. Alistair-- [ She raises a hand to thumb at his cheek, though the other is still at her side, clutched at something in her fist as she strokes gently over his face. ] ... Hang on.
[ Maker, but she feels like a child at the moment. Robyn drops her hand and produces the other, unfurling her fingers to reveal two rings in faded gold, wedding bands for a man and woman. ]
I got them from Fergus: they were my parents'. [ She continues softly. ] I thought, just now... this seems right. We never needed for things to be official, but... maybe I want it that way, after all.
[ The palm stays open and she frets a little at her lower lip as if she's afraid he'll scorn the idea. ]
I am yours, just as I've always been. [ The Warden finishes, lifting his free hand with her own to press her lips to his knuckles. ] I want everyone to know that just as I do.
[He sighs, still holding the amulet as Robyn leaves, fond exasperation on his face. He's not prepared to drop the subject just like that - it's something he's put some thought into and is prepared to argue the point if he has to. Once she returns from whatever it is she's rushed off to do. Leaning back against the table Alistair waits patiently for Robyn to return, thumb rubbing absently over the surface of the amulet as he does.
When she's back, he shoots her a questioning look but holds his tongue. As curious as he is about what prompted her to rush off like that he knows there will be a good reason for it and she'll explain in time.
Although it seems she's having some difficulty putting it into words. With a worried frown he glances down at her clenched fist, mouth opening to ask what's wrong when she opens her hand at last.
He stares at the rings uncomprehendingly, mind blank and mouth hanging open until he gathers the presence of mind to close it.
...Her parents' rings. Her parents' rings. His gaze finally drags up to Robyn's face, disbelief written plain in his eyes. Her words shake it loose, too many other feelings to be easily untangled rushing in to replace it.
Finally, shakily, he exhales and covers her outstretched palm with his own, the amulet and rings caught between their hands. His other hand slips free to cup her cheek, mouth working soundlessly before he can finally force sound past the lump in his throat.]
I- [He stops and swallows, eyes suspiciously bright. The words 'are you sure' are on the tip of his tongue - stupid, given they've spent all these years together and he's never once had reason to think Robyn might one day no longer want him by her side. In a practical sense this will change nothing, just as Robyn says. They've each been the others since the Blight. But it does matter. Making such vows, before Andraste and the Maker for everyone to know-]
Nothing would make me happier. [His voice is tight but Alistair is distantly aware that he's smiling so broadly his cheeks hurt. Ducking his head he kisses her, murmuring against her lips-] I love you. Even if I should have been the one asking you.
[ She almost has to laugh at his reaction, because although she would be just as surprised, it's still incredibly endearing. She clutches their hands together, leaning into his touch, heart still hammering in her chest.
Nothing would make me happier. Still feeling like a younger girl, her stomach flips a bit and she ducks her chin, blushing and grinning brightly. She's in the midst of trying to determine a response when he kisses her and she kisses him back fiercely, her own hand rising against his face again, wanting more than anything for this, for them, to continue, to not need to part, after all. Maker, after all we've done, after what we've given, please-- ]
I love you, too. [ Robyn giggles, brushing his nose with hers in a brief nuzzle. ] And-- Hang 'should have,' we've always done things our way, and... I thought this would be a good time. We can say it was all your idea, if you like.
[ She doesn't care a bit, so long as he really does want to go through with it. When she'd been in Highever, growing up, she'd always imagined marrying a faceless, but handsome prince, or at least a noble, as her imagination dictated. Their family's status could well have allowed for either, once. Even so, they'd always just been fantasies, and they'd seemed much less important as she'd grown. She was close to her family and enjoyed her life as it was; why would there be any need to change that?
Technically, maybe, she'd be marrying royalty (though, of course, he'd renounced his claim to appease Anora). It matters even less now than ever, though, because she knows far and away that her feelings for Alistair would be there, would be just as strong and true, no matter where he'd come from. ]
We can go soon, before-- [ "Before we go our separate ways." Robyn swallows. ] We could go to the nearest Chantry or just find the closest Revered Mother, and-- We could really do this, Alistair. If you'll have me.
[For a moment it's possible to forget where they are and what is waiting for them. It's almost like back in that first year during the Blight, even the looming threat of the darkspawn failing to dim the joy of new love. The years since have matured them both but this is like that first giddy rush when he knew his feelings were returned.]
Much as I'd like to claim the credit I wouldn't dream of it. [And in truth he wouldn't want to. Tradition be damned, he's going to tell anyone who cares to hear it - and everyone who doesn't - that Robyn Cousland asked him to marry her. He'll sound like some ridiculous Orlesian noblewoman bragging about her engagement and he doesn't even care.] It's a perfect time.
[It could only be better if they weren't going to be separated in the near future. A prospect that is even more unwelcome knowing that it means, even if they find a Revered Mother now, they'll have only a few days together as husband and wife. There's another plea for her to take him with her on his tongue - or a suggestion that they should wait and plan a huge ceremony for next season, somewhere in Ferelden and it will take simply months to organise the guest-list alone and he can't do it on his own - but he swallows it all back down. This is enough. It's more than he'd ever hoped for growing up the unwelcome, unwanted bastard and is better than a thousand thrones he'd never wanted.]
Yes. Maker, yes. [He laughs. How could that even be a question?] Of course I'll have you. Forever. I can't let the only woman who can put up with me escape. [Pausing, Alistair kisses her nose.] We can go now.
[He makes no move to go anywhere just yet, despite the suggestion. He wants this yes, wants to swear himself to her forever before the Maker but he's almost afraid to move lest something goes wrong or he wakes up.]
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HOOAH aka the sad fade thread
Far from it all, away from Adamant when Alistair Theirin fell into the Fade and never came back, Robyn Cousland, the former Hero of Ferelden, knew her time had come. Immediately, and with deep, abiding regrets, she wrote to the handful of people close to her, to those she trusted. Without knowing the events of Adamant, she wrote to Alistair, too, and Leliana, who she knew was working within the Inquisition. I hear the music, Robyn said, and before she could actually up and go to the Deep Roads, the spymaster had turned up at her doorstep. So to speak, anyway; the Warden had been living in caves near Orzammar at the time and hadn't been surprised at all to see her old friend appear outside of it. Wearily, gratefully, Robyn reunited with Leliana, but it was far from an easy-going, social visit. After all, one of them was unquestionably dying, and the other one had bad news of her own.
Left in the Fade. Robyn's heart thudded dull and useless in her chest as it fought to both protect her from the taint and rebelled against what she'd heard. No. The Inquisitor hadn't been able to save them all, had needed to make a difficult decision. Robyn knows that need as well as anyone, having made more than one impossible choice, herself, but this one filled her with a bitter anger that was more or less completely unknown. The Warden had steeled her expression and kept any tears from falling, but Leliana knew, perhaps better than anyone, what the loss of Alistair meant to her. What it meant that she hadn't been there to save him. What it meant that she couldn't say goodbye.
... Except. Except, the real reason that the redhead had made the journey was to offer an alternative. One that she couldn't exactly provide, but that she could point out. So, without much choice and, really, with more hope than she'd felt in... years, Robyn set out with Leliana back to Skyhold. She'd never been to the fortress that belonged to the Inquisition, and as far as anybody else knew, she never would. Under cover of night, the pair slipped back into the mountain base, immediately went to the gardens that, now, were empty.
Except for two people. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him, a boy of (almost exactly) ten, dark in his features and very close to Morrigan's, except... the ears. Her breath catches almost painfully as a rush of mingled surprise, pain, and some other, indeterminable feeling overwhelms her. There isn't enough time to talk about it, but she manages a smile, and the boy, Kieran, manages one, too. Leliana, Morrigan, and Robyn stand together for the first time in a decade, eyeing each other with a lot unspoken and with the knowledge that it will be the last time.
"You gave him to me, once," Morrigan said, with a softness to her tone that the Warden hadn't expected. "'Tis only fair that I give him back to you."
It wasn't long after that, after short goodbyes and one, final ritual (for once, not involving blood magic) that Robyn found herself in the Fade. Physically in a Fade, in a way she had never been before, wide-eyed and afraid. Now, standing where she'd entered with no way back to Thedas, she finds herself much more unsure than she'd been just a moment ago. What if he's already-... But, she can't think that way, can't believe for a second that she won't have the time she so desperately needs with the person she loves and trusts more than anything. They'd promised to return to each other after her search for the cure, after his work with the Inquisition, yet here she is with that promise in limbo.
No. She steels herself, feeling much older than ever, and wanders into the wasteland, into the in-between world.
The Warden searches for what feels like days, though she knows from dreams that time is a vast illusion in the Fade. She has her weapons, encounters a demon or unfriendly spirit every so often, but nothing quite as terrifying as her own fears. If she comes across his body, if she's too late, then the trip might have been for nothing... if she hadn't already been dying, anyway.
It's a relief beyond reliefs when she sees something glinting in the distance, something she recognizes beyond a shred of doubt as the armor of a Grey Warden. More than that, she recognizes the body, the posture, the short slick of hair, even at a distance. She would know that man anywhere, and she feels dizzy with the knowledge that she hadn't been too late. That she wouldn't be made a liar. ]
What might such a handsome Grey Warden like yourself be doing in a place like this?
[ He may well think she's a demon, or a spirit, but Robyn is willing to try and prove herself to him for as long as she's still herself. Her voice carries in a strange echo across the distance between them. There's an emotional waver to it and her eyes, too far from Alistair for him to see, are glistening with the enormity of what she feels right now, with everything they've been through, with the knowledge that it's all coming to an end. Together, though. Together again, for good this time.
Woo! (you're still terrible)
Or one with better scenery at the very least. The Fade was not a pretty place when wide awake and the company rather left a lot to be desired.
He's been wandering aimlessly since the rift was sealed, the backlash tossing him free of the Nightmare and leaving him marooned the Maker only knew where. Which is likely the only reason he's still alive. His injuries from the fight have stopped hurting which may or may not be a good sign, and he has yet to grow hungry or thirsty - whether that is because of where he is or simply that very little time has passed it's impossible to tell. It feels like he's been here for years already yet he's no more in need of a shave than when the Inquisition's forces marched on Adamant.
Why the old Magisters ever wanted to enter the Fade he'll never know.
On the plus side, he does get plenty of visitors, even if he's yet to make any new friends no matter how hard they try. In fact, it looks like one is trying again right now. Alistair turns at the familiar voice, not even a little surprised to hear it here and now.]
Is that the best line you can come up with? It takes more than a little flattery to sweep me off my feet, I'll have you know.
[Smiling easily he draws his sword, still miraculously by his side, his gaze sweeping over the familiar form critically.
However long he's been here, this isn't the first time he's been approached by someone he knows. It had been difficult the first time a demon took Robyn's form. He'd known in his heart it couldn't really be her but it had been so long and he'd wanted to pretend so badly. There wasn't even the fear of doing harm to others should he let a demon influence him to hold him back - he was trapped here and the only one who could get hurt was him. It would have been easy to play along but it would have been a betrayal to the real Robyn, wherever she was. So in the end he'd driven it off and been left alone once more, however briefly.
Others had tried the same trick of course. Demons were nothing if not persistent. Robyn had appeared to him countless times in countless ways - rescuing, dreaming, dying, lost, waiting. Each one as false as the last.
They'd tried other guises too - his father, met only once in the Fade as well. Wynne as a spirit now herself, offering guidance once more. The Inquisitor and their allies come to bring him home. He'd almost believed the latter, hoping against hope that they'd found a way to open another rift and navigate the seemingly endless twists of the Fade just for him. But the Inquisition has bigger concerns than a single Grey Warden who chose his fate.
And the Hero of Ferelden has been gone on her quest for a cure since long before he wound up here.
Truthfully he can't raise his blade against it, not while the demon still wears Robyn's face but it will slip eventually. They all do. Until then it is nice to have a conversation with something that talks back for once.]
What brings you out here then? Come to see the sights? I'd offer you my map but I lost it the last time the floor decided it wanted to become the roof.
[It's very rude when that happens. And painful. And utterly disorientating which he guesses is rather the point, as though he could get much more lost.]
nONSENSE
[ She knows (already knew) that he believes her to be a demon. It's what she would think, and... honestly, what she had expected to find, herself. But, the demons haven't tried to win her over, and she suspects it's because she wouldn't be suitable for possession, having a failing body filled past its limits with the poison of the taint. It's fortunate that she hasn't had to spend much of her precious, remaining time warding off false Alistairs, seeing them in various states of death and despair, because convincing the real one of her identity won't be easy. ]
I am no demon. I'm the spirit of a woman much younger and much braver.
[ She quietly notes the sword, and in a distant, empty moment, considers what would happen if she rushed him. If he might kill her, a "demon" with Robyn's face. She'll have to seek out death sooner or later, a fate she's accepted, because the alternative, to rot away into a ghoul, isn't a choice at all. ]
We can just talk, if you like. [ No, she can't have him kill her without realizing who she is; the purpose of her finding him was to reunite, after all. To say goodbye. And... that would be too selfish, too horrible.
Robyn sits cross-legged on the ground, setting her crossbow aside. ]
I came here for... a few reasons. [ Briefly, she examines her fingers, calloused and rough from years of fighting. I'm hardly the girl who was taken from Highever all those years ago. ] But the most important was to find someone who gave his life to save others and to redeem a forsaken order. To seek out the Warden who made a promise and was left to die without saying goodbye to her.
[ Robyn eyes him from a short distance away, expression and tone anything but condemning. She can't help it; she blames the Grey Wardens for their weak minds, for blindly following a corrupted leader. She blames the Inquisition for having to sacrifice other people not in the organization because there was no other plan. She blames herself, most of all, for leaving the world worse than when she'd found it with no cure and, most crucially, without Alistair to carry on. ]
The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword....
[ She whispers, breath catching, suddenly afraid, and anguished, and-
Calm. Time, time is running out, and what she can do is to talk to him, to be with him. To apologize. To say a real goodbye. ]
... I remember when we first went into the Fade, [ Robyn begins quietly, eyes closed, recalling. ] When I found you, they showed you... visions of Goldanna and her children, and I felt so awful at taking you from that.
[ The Warden opens her eyes again, frowning, looking intensely world-wearied. ]
I'm sorry you never found the family you wanted, Alistair.
truth :|
That's just mean. And unnecessary.
[It's a good double, he'll give the demon that. One of the best he's seen. Most of the others have had something... off about them. They don't sound right somehow. They're just imitating emotions they've never felt and can't understand, going through the motions perfectly but there's no depth to it. Or perhaps he's fooling himself and it's just the fact that he knows that every time he sees her face or one of the other familiar faces that have appeared to him that it can't be anything but a denizen of the Fade. He's alone here and will be for as long as he has left.
And now this creature appears and has the nerve to know exactly what to say to hurt him. Because it sounds so much like his Robyn and he would have given anything for the chance to say goodbye, it's true.
Despite his better sense Alistair moves closer to where she sits, taking in all the little details, the work the demon has put into this disguise. The signs of corruption as her tainted blood gets the better or her, the weariness and sorrow in her eyes... His heart clenches painfully and he has to look away, turning his attention to the twisted, unnatural landscape around them.
It's a demon, not real. The real Robyn is still out there somewhere. She might have even found her cure by now. He knows it's possible, he spoke to Grand Enchanter Fiona himself, hoping she might be able to tell him something he could send on to his absent lover to aid her quest. There had been nothing but he knows it's possible to cure the taint. If anyone can manage it she can. She will. They'll never see each other again but if she can live a long, fulfilling life then he doesn't mind not being able to share it with her.
Or with the family he never had.
Shrugging he leans back against an outcropping that wasn't there a second ago, sword seemingly forgotten in his hand.]
I found what mattered. Or she found me. Not everyone gets that. To be happy.
[Looking down at the achingly familiar shape again he finds himself wondering about it. It doesn't seem to want anything from him. Maybe it's just being patient or maybe it really is willing to just talk. Whatever the reason, it's still not the same as seeing the real Robyn one last time.... but he can let himself have this for now.]
And we were happy. The Inquisitor asked me about that you know. If we'd been happy. At the time I thought, once all was said and done, we'd be together again. Forever. [He chuckles, shaking his head ruefully.] See how well that worked out. [Heaving a sigh he looks back at it.] I got more than I deserved, I just wish- Ah, what does it matter? You already know and it doesn't change anything.
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[ The last thing she wants to do is to hurt him, but she knows he'll have to realize the truth in his own time. He's smart, but stubborn, like her. Grown distrustful and world-wearied after so much time and so much loss. Robyn watches as he gets closer, unsure if it's a good sign, or an indication that he's giving up. Her chest twists painfully, heart going out to him with all the energy it has. ]
You deserved so much more. [ She says gently, though the mention of the Inquisitor sends a flare of anger coursing through her. ] You deserve a long and happy life away from all this. Free of demons and of the taint.
[ At least he wouldn't die because of it. It's a horrible thought, but she's the tiniest bit thankful that he, at least, won't be killed at the hands of the darkspawn or its poison. If she has her way, it'll be the same for her, though even as she thinks it, there's a streak of pain as it settles into her blood, infecting every corner of her body, gradually transforming her from human to monster. She swallows with difficult, feeling like a child for the tears that sting at her eyes, and in her mind she hears "afraid, afraid, afraid," as if there's something in the Fade that's finally found something worth taunting her about, lost case though she is. ]
We will be together. [ At the end, and beyond, she thinks. ] Somewhere... much better than all this. Somewhere worthier of you.
[ Whether that be at the Maker's side or otherwise, she's always believed that there is (has to be) more after their deaths. That she'll see her family again, and the others they'd lost along the way. ]
... Alistair, please. [ The Warden says suddenly, almost desperately, as another sudden jolt pulses through her. Can he see it in my skin, in my eyes? ] I-... I know you don't believe me, and I can hardly blame you. I know what you must have seen in here and how hard is can be to forget. To believe.
[ To believe that there could be one, last chance for them to be together, for so many other things. Wildly, she thinks that she ought to have made some kind of list of all the things she wanted to say, that she should have written him another letter that would actually reach him... but, she hadn't done either of those things. ]
The music is so loud, now. [ Robyn whispers, pleading. ] I don't know how much longer I can stay.
[ She can't ask him to kill her if he still thinks she's a demon, after all, and the idea of having to walk away without him knowing that she'd come to see him is... excruciating. ]
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[Not completely. Oh, he'd do anything for Robyn, to make her happy. But he's still perversely grateful for the murder of her family. If Howe had never turned on them then the two of them would have never met. And looking back he can't imagine getting to this point without her.
...Well. Getting to the point of standing against the entire order when they started talking about blood magic. The getting trapped in the Fade was definitely all him.]
So maybe this is entirely worthy of me.
[It is oddly comforting though, the demon's - spirit's? - words. A reminder that somewhere beyond this they'll see each other again. Free of the taint and duties and quests and everything that's kept them apart over the years. It's something to hold on to, even as he watches the apparition struggle against some illusory pain, mirroring the spreading darkness it pretends to feel.
Something else the demon says tugs at him in the wake of its impressively emotional plea. The music, the taint... It's the strangest thing. Has he felt the corruption in the previous 'Robyns' who appeared? It's there now, as strong and familiar as anything. None of the others he's seen were claiming to be feeling the true Calling so it had no reason to be this strong. But he can't recall any of them giving a sense of the taint that should have been in their blood. This one has copied it perfectly and the realisation claws at him with uncertainty.
He shifts back, hand flexing on the hilt of his sword as he stares at it suspiciously, silent in the face of its plea.
Finally, slowly, Alistair closes the remaining distance between them and drops to one knee in front of... whatever this is. His blade stays between them, resting lightly against his upraised knee as a barrier should it decide to attack. Carefully he reaches out to cup her chin in his free hand, studying a face he knows as well as his own. It's changed now, reminding him of the poor souls he's seen who'd succumbed to the taint. If this were real she wouldn't have long.
He remembers the music she speaks of too well. The false Calling at the least. Surely she can't be hearing it, can't be this far gone. Not the real Robyn. She's found a cure to this and is out there somewhere, cleaning up Clarel's mess or helping the Inquisition stop Corypheus or something. Anything.
She can't truly be here, almost lost to the corruption. It can't be.]
You're lying. [Even to himself it sounds like a plea.] You're just another demon.
[His hand tightens unconsciously on her jaw, his own drawing tight with pain and uncertainty.]
How could she have even gotten here? Why even come looking for me? Tell me that, if you expect me to believe you.
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[ Either king, thankless servant to his country, or Grey Warden, thankless servant to his country. Alistair's life has been trial after trial, and yet he smiles and laughs and brings the same to others. Her heart aches, looking at him surrounded by the twisted darkness of the Fade, left behind by people who didn't know him, who didn't love him. He saved them, she reminds herself patiently, but the words sit on her shoulders like weights rather than sinking in as truth.
No, he doesn't deserve this. Not at all. And she isn't so masochistic to think that she does, either; in fact, there are few people that she would say do deserve being abandoned in the Fade, still alive and left to wander and die alone. Still, it's difficult not to feel pinpricks of self-loathing as she thinks of the people she'd let down by failing to find a cure, of the work that could have been done if she'd survived to help rebuild. If she'd been able to take Alistair's place at Adamant so that he, at least, could live.
He approaches and she doesn't move, not wanting to startle him into action. Really, she's also feeling tired, weak in body and mind, and it's all she can do to not let herself fall into his arms and stay there until she isn't herself anymore.
Instead she keeps very still, moving only to gently cover his hand in one of her own at her jaw, the touch of a ghost. ]
Morrigan. [ Robyn says softly, knowing the animosity he and the apostate have always had (though, she isn't sure how much, if at all, they spoke during his work with the Inquisition, since she had also been there, in Skyhold). ] She was able to send me into the Fade, but she warned that it would be a one-way trip.
[ Of course. If it were that easy to traverse the Fade, physically, then the world would be a very different place. She manages a fleeting, pained smile as his grip on her tightens. ]
I think she wanted to thank me. [ The Warden whispers. ] For Kieran.
[ For indirectly giving her a son. What had it meant, the soul of an old god in that little boy? She hadn't noticed, hadn't had the time to scrutinize. He'd seemed so normal and now she would never know what it had meant that she'd convinced the man she loved (loves, always) to lie with another woman that night. To trust her enough to go into the arms of someone he hated to save them both.
Now that they're both dying only a decade later with not much time spent together in between, she wonders with a rattling emptiness if it had even been worth it. ]
I came here because I had to. I promised. [ Her voice shakes a little, wavering with the emotion that threatens to overtake her. ] I would never leave you alone. I wouldn't have stopped until I found a way, no matter what the cost.
[ Though, she hadn't even paid for this trip. The taint that was taking her life so much more quickly than it should is her own fault. ]
I would do anything for you, no matter how impossible.
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The explanation for her presence is painfully believable. If anyone could manage this feat it would be Morrigan. It seems she's only grown more knowledgeable - more dangerous maybe - since they first met all those years ago. And yet he remembers seeing her with the boy - their son, as much as it aches to admit that fact. She'd been good with him. A good mother, surprisingly enough, and being one had changed her. Morrigan herself had scoffed when he'd said as much but it was true. She cared for her son, anyone could see that and it was reassuring to know that Kieran was being raised by someone who loved him.]
You met him?
[He can't help but ask. It tugs at him, the thought of Robyn and Kieran meeting. Of course she knew about him, had been the one to talk Alistair himself into the ritual that had saved their lives. But knowing that he had a child out there and meeting him were two very different things. If Robyn had seen Kieran herself it couldn't have been easy for her - serving as another reminder of the things she'd given up when she joined the Wardens.
He'd wondered, after seeing Kieran the first time, what he would have looked like with Robyn as his mother. What it would have been like to make themselves a family, free of the Wardens and the taint and everything. It's too late for that now but he would have liked to be there when they met. For her sake.
When she mentions their promise to each other he shakes his head, trying to deny what he's hearing. Finally Alistair lets the sword drop and clatter to the ground between them, hands shifting to grip her shoulders tightly.]
Please. [The word is barely a whisper, laced with desperation.] Tell me this is all just some demon's ploy. I'll let you take whatever you want from me. Everything. Just tell me it's a lie.
[In his heart he knows it's true. The sense of the taint within her, the way she knows exactly what to say, her courage in the face of death. The promises they made. The sheer depth of feeling in every word. It's his Warden, his Robyn, really here in front of him. Trapped, just like him, while the corruption within her steals the life from her even faster than the Fade could.
Still, he pleads, wanting desperately to be wrong.]
Tell me she's fine. You can even tell me she's fallen in love with some... Orlesian dandy and they've run off together and never once think of me. I won't mind.
[Better that than they both die here, after everything they've been through. The Maker can't be that cruel. Not after everything they've already sacrificed for the greater good. She deserves more than to end like this.]
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And he'd thought he was selfish. She utters a tiny, dry sob, overwhelmed with all the things that the two of them together had been through, how it's all come down to this. Two Grey Wardens, heroes of the Fifth Blight, dying together, and alone, in another world. ]
He seemed good, Alistair. [ She says, hand still covering his. ] A normal boy.
[ Maybe not normal, exactly, but not darkspawn. Not a demon. Just a little boy with a strange story and Alistair's ears.
The sword falls and she starts, senses somehow ramped up, now, just before the end. He grabs to steady her and she lets it happen, feeling more and more as if the most perfect thing in the world would be to lean in to his touch and let herself slip away... except, that isn't an option at all, and so she steels herself, feeling crushed beneath the anguish that he gives off like waves of heat.
Should she have spared him this grief and lied? Acted the part of a demon, not been quite so... herself, and let him ignore or kill her? If he believed that the real Robyn was somewhere else, living a long and happy life, would he have been a little happier, here, even alone and dying? But, even as she tries to picture it, she knows that it would be going against everything they'd built their relationship on. Not kindness, but truth. She had told him all she knew about the dark ritual and he had gone through with it. Not kindness, but truth. She had left in search of the cure and left him because someone had to guide the Wardens when there was no one left. Not kindness, but truth.
And now- ]
An Orlesian? [ Suddenly, she laughs, very brief and breathless. ] Now you're just being insulting.
[ Maybe the Maker is cruel. All her life, she's believed in Him, but they're taught that He abandoned them for their sins. Still, she believes in Him, but she also believes in Alistair. Believes that there has to be something better for people like him, for all of their friends.
He's gripping her shoulders, and she moves to cup his face, as if they're finally seeing each other for the first time. ]
I would sooner enter the Fade to die than marry an Orlesian. [ Robyn says finally, smiling as much as her broken heart will allow. ]
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I've met some reasonable Orlesians.
[He laughs along with her because what else is there to do?
It's real. Not a demon's trick but the real Robyn Cousland, Hero of Ferelden, here with him. Trapped and tainted and dying, just the two of them alone in the Fade.]
I'm sorry. I thought-
[He shakes his head, eyes closing as he leans into her hands. She knows what he thought and why. He still wishes it were true, that this was a demon and he could picture her happy and safe somewhere. But it would be so much worse to let her die alone in the Deep Roads without him. He would have followed her without question if her Calling came before his. Instead here they are. Maybe it's not so different in the end.]
You didn't find it. The cure.
[It had seemed such an impossible task when they first spoke of it but he'd thought if anyone could do it she could. She's achieved so much that had seemed impossible at first, he'd hoped this would just be another impossibility added to her list of accomplishments. And instead here she is, the true Calling having come for her while he wasn't there.
It's real.
Robyn is here with him. Dying here with him.
Making a soft, choked sound Alistair pulls her closer and wraps his arms around her, face pressed against her neck.
He must have had a thousand conversations with her in his head while he was stuck here alone. There's so much he wants to say and now that she's here most of it seems so pointless. Everything but-] I'm sorry. Maker, I'm so sorry. I should have-
[He stops. Should have what? Much as he hates knowing she came to this point alone, what could he have done differently? Even if he'd known how little time she had left and what awaited him at Adamant, the Wardens had needed to be stopped. They could have destroyed all of Thedas if they weren't. But it feels so damned unfair. Wasn't stopping the Blight enough? Why did it have to be them standing against the order? Them giving up what time they had together for a world that scarcely seems to remember them? It's not fair and while that's nothing new, this injustice cuts deeper than most.
Pulling back eventually he attempts a smile, just as fragile and wavering as her own is.]
I'm glad I rank higher than marrying an Orlesian. You're too beautiful a sight to miss.
[Falling prey to the taint or not, she truly is. Beautiful as they day they first met.]
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Regret is in every inch of her face as she shakes her head, trying very hard to find the words to give voice to how she'd let them all down. ]
I couldn't. [ She laments, voice again wavering. ] I did everything I could think of, I looked... everywhere. I thought I had it, I tried more than once, and I think it... did the opposite, really. Made the taint more aggressive, rather than eliminating it.
[ Robyn attempts a smile as if to say "and here I am," but it comes off as crushed, vastly unhappy with her own efforts. With her results, or lack thereof. ]
... But, in the end, I accomplished nothing and saved no one. Even if I had found a cure, it would never have reached you. [ Another failing. She tightens her hands into fists as they slip from his face to atop his shoulders, shaking. ] It should have been me there, not you. They looked for me, but I kept on with the search, and you had to be the one to step forward. You were brought here and I wasted years.
[ With nothing to show for it except her failing body. At the word beautiful she laughs abruptly, almost dryly, and has to look away as a flush of shame reddens her pale cheeks. ]
You- Don't. [ Tears sting fresh at her eyes and she drops her hands, closing in around herself, overcome. ] I know what... what I am.
[ What I look like, too, not that it matters. It's just another reminder, though, of what's happened to her. Of what will still happen, and not too much farther into the future.
Finally, she pushes herself to meet his eyes again, to search his face. He looks so alive, still, healthy and whole, except that he's in the Fade. It hurts her more intensely than the taint ever could. ]
I was afraid I wouldn't get to see you. [ "Before." ] I wrote, before I heard about Adamant, but... they say that couriers aren't especially fond of delivering into the Fade.
[ Maker, if jokes could save them. If anything could. ]
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You tried. That counts for something.
[Even if it failed. Even if he wishes now she hadn't, if it meant she might have survived a few more years. Or maybe she wouldn't have, given it was her quest that had kept her away from the fight with the Wardens. She could have no more sat back and let them turn to blood magic than he could.]
You know I wouldn't have let you face Clarel and the rest of them alone if you had been there. We both would have wound up here, even if you had stayed.
[His voice catches as he speaks. Would the battle have gone any differently with her there? Would more Wardens have been willing to listen to the Hero of Ferelden and not fallen prey to the Venatori? There's no way to know now and nothing to be gained from dwelling on it. They're here now and all he can do is make the most of this moment.
Stroking her cheek gently Alistair refuses to look away from her, his gaze soft as he watches her.]
What you are is the woman I feel in love with. Nothing will ever change that. No taint or demon or even the Maker Himself.
[Her current appearance is just a reminder of how much she'd given up for the hope of a future. It hurts to see her like this but he could never turn his back on her for it. Not when, even at their worse, she still manages remind him of the many reasons he fell in love with her. Chuckling softly he hums in agreement. Leliana would have done everything in her power to track Robyn down and inform her of his fate but even she had limits.]
No, they're strangely reluctant. Even Leliana's ravens don't like coming here. It's rather selfish if you ask me.
[Cradling her face he leans in to kiss her softly, turning serious once more as he pulls back.]
I'm glad you came. I hated not being able to say goodbye.
[Even if he'd never wanted it to happen like this. Better this perhaps than a lonely death in the Deep Roads though. And they're both stuck here now and no amount of wishing will change that.]
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... But,it hadn't happened that way for Robyn. She hadn't been able to help any of their order, whether at Adamant or with a cure for the taint. Though she doesn't want to waste time voicing her regrets to him any longer, they fester in her heart, twisting with agonized thorns.
His declaration of love draws them back a little, though. She can remember as clearly as anything the early stages of their relationship, the easy banter of fellow Wardens, as friends, and then the hesitant admissions of feelings. What had been light and playful became deep and vulnerable and quiet nights of honest discussions near the campfire are as vivid in her memory as the Fade around them. ]
You've grown so much. [ Is what she says, adopting a ghostly smile, still with a hand cupping his jaw. ] We both have.
[ From essentially children to a man and woman devoted body and soul to their cause and to each other: the two reasons they'd ended up here in the first place. His kiss is like a breath of fresh air in the stale, unnatural wisps of the Fade, and she leans into it, eyes fluttering shut. Too quickly it's over and he withdraws, taking little pieces of her heart with him. ]
One of us has to keep our promises. [ Robyn chides, almost playful. Then, there's a sharp gasp as she jerks inward, curling into herself and whining softly. It zaps through her veins like an electric shock, but one that doesn't stop immediately. When it does, she's left shaking, hands gripping tight around herself, fingers digging into graying skin. ]
I don't know how long it takes. [ Her voice wavers and she looks up into his face, again stricken by how alive he looks, how normal and healthy. Maker, how could you bring him here and abandon him? Why him, after everything? ] ... Alistair, I can't-... become one of them. A ghoul, or-
[ A broodmother. She shudders, drawing further into herself, panic welling up like a dam about to burst. ]
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At the same time they can't let this opportunity for a cure pass them by. They might never get another chance if they do. It's something they've talked about before, in the years following the Blight. Avernus had been the first to get them thinking but he's not the only Warden to escape his Calling and so they'd wondered if they could do the same. A possibility that becomes more pressing with every year that passes. They've both been Wardens for coming on ten years and Robyn was recruited during a Blight, which only strengthens the taint. There's no telling how long either of them have left. If they miss this opportunity they might not survive to find another.
It won't be the first time they've been separated by duty. In the years following the Blight they'd had no choice - he'd been tasked with cleaning up the darkspawn still left on the surface and she'd been rebuilding Ferelden's Grey Wardens. It hadn't been easy then and the distance between them had been far less than it will be this time. Worse, she'll be alone without anyone to back her up if she runs into trouble. Splitting up like this is the only choice they have and neither of them are happy about it. They'd talked in circles over it again and again, always coming back to the same place and even now Alistair still wishes he could think of a way to talk her out of going or taking him with her.
If there was only someone else they could trust to investigate the rumours of Corypheus. If just one of Robyn's recruits were here and not off on their own assignments- But they're not. And so he's back to their only choice being to separate.
They've been virtually inseparable since they realised what they had to do, making the most of what time they have together before her departure. There's no knowing how long it will be before they see each other again and his heart aches just thinking about it. She'll be facing who knows what out there while he's stuck here listening to gossip. A necessary thing but it still chafes.
Enough of that.
Finally giving up on the old records he was looking over for some hint of this old prison Hawke had mentioned, Alistair abandons his work to come up behind Robyn. Brushing aside her hair he presses a kiss to the back of her neck, then leans over to peer at what she's doing, chin digging into her shoulder. He'd been trying not to interrupt her but he's had enough of mulling over their impending separation. And a small part of him wants to delay her departure however possible, as unreasonable as he knows that is.]
Are you sure we can't get Oghren to investigate these rumours?
[His voice is light though the joke would obvious either way because really. Oghren. But it's enough to let her know what's on his mind, why he's interrupting. He wants as many moments together to keep him company on the lonely nights to come. Any way to keep them together even with an entire nation separating them in the months to come. Somehow he doubts he's alone in that.]
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Robyn used to open up to everyone, bringing in new recruits to their ragtag group without a second thought, be they initiates having visions of the Maker or a convicted murderer and qunari. She spilled her stories to all of them and to strangers, too, flouncing across Ferelden and even through the bloodiest of battles until the archdemon was finally defeated. The time after... was harder, somehow. Likely because her closest friends and her lover were gone, physically separated, for a time, as she tried to rebuild what was left of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. She'd certainly met new people, had gained valuable friends and allies, but life as Warden-Commander wasn't the same. Maybe she hadn't expect to live through the Fifth Blight and had thus been more carefree about things. Now that life seems more and more certain (until the taint claims her, that is), things are... darker. There's a heavy air to the world these days, even ten years later, that can get under her skin and have her lying awake at night wondering for hours what it could possibly be that has had her uneasy for so long.
The rumors of a long-dead magister come back from the dead is no help. After her experience with the Architect-- in fact, she's looking over her own, old notes at the moment, eyes scanning the words of a younger Robyn with eternal weariness. After the Architect, the darkspawn had become more complicated and dangerous, and now... with the rumors surrounding the Champion of Kirkwall, his father, and his activities, she knows there's no escaping the seemingly-inevitable shadows that have been pressing in on them for years. There's something foul in the air at Weisshaupt and it makes her wrinkle her nose unintentionally, an expression that she is quick to abandon once a familiar hand brushes across her skin and lips are soon to follow. She rests her head against his when he leans forward at her shoulder, humming happily, brightened each and every time she's in his presence, no matter the circumstances. ]
Is Oghren really your first choice for the job? [ Robyn asks with a lilting laugh, cupping his opposite cheek with a hand and then turning to press a kiss to the one nearest her. ] My love, I think you've really and truly begun to lose your mind.
[ Maybe they both are. These days, she feels much, much older than she is. ]
But, if you insist... [ She murmurs, adopting a grave expression and making a show of reaching out for paper with which to write a letter. ] I'll send a raven now, dispatch him for an utterly crucial Grey Warden assignment. To Oghren, I mean. The dwarf that I remember being stinking drunk more often than he was... anything else.
[ Her tone and eventual grin suggest the fondness that she actually feels for their brother-in-arms, but that doesn't mean she'd send him out to investigate Corypheus on his own. ]
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[Whether he's agreeing that he's lost his mind or that Oghren really is his first choice, she can decide. It's enough that he has her attention and not that old report on another darkspawn that insisted on causing trouble for them.
The Architect, Corypheus... it used to be simple, he's sure. All the old stories of past Blights and the darkspawn themselves never mention this sort of thing. Even most of the Wardens records have not a hint of there being truly intelligent darkspawn beyond the archdemons. Though as Alistair's coming to realise, that may be less because these things weren't known of before and more because of the Wardens' need for secrecy even from themselves. He's hardly in a place to judge. The two of them are keeping their share of secrets. The true reasons behind this journey of Robyn's. Their fears regarding Corypheus. How a Warden can survive slaying an archdemon. The Wardens have always kept secrets, often with good reason. But the hints they've managed to unearth so far make it seem like this is a dangerous one to have kept. One he hopes won't end up causing more trouble than it already has.
But he'll have ample time to dwell on all of this when he's alone. Now he has Robyn's hand warm against his cheek, bringing a smile to his face and he has to relish it while it lasts. Watching her reach for the paper he hums thoughtfully, as if seriously considering the prospect, and nods against her shoulder.]
He knows how to kill darkspawn. Maybe even better than I do. [The dwarf is a terrifying sight to behold in battle. Moreso knowing he's drunk even in the middle of the worst fight imaginable. Just think, if he fights like that drunk then maybe all they need to do is sober him up and the darkspawn won't stand a chance.] And along with his breath I think he could slay any ancient magister that dared raise its head.
[Which means the problem is sorted and he can accompany Robyn on her journey now. With that settled Alistair turns to kiss her cheek in return, murmuring in her ear-] It's not too late to let me come with you.
[He knows what the answer will be and why. But knowing doesn't make him hate it any less. So she's going to have to deal with him asking the same question right up until she leaves.]
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[ She can't help it: the mention of their teasing, of one of the jokes that's traveled with them over the years, has her heart flutter with all of the feelings she has for him and she turns, abandoning the ruse. Robyn wraps her arms around his neck, leaning back slightly over the table and the still-blank parchment just behind her. The Warden nuzzles briefly at him with the tip of her nose, mostly trying to tickle him, finally coming to rest with their foreheads touching. ]
If I trusted anyone else enough for this, I would give them the job in an instant. [ Robyn says finally, smiling sadly. ] You know that I would.
[ If only they could give up their duties as Grey Wardens to live the rest of their lives together. Unfortunately for that dream, though, both are too invested in the order and in the heart of it all to do so. The only thing that could possibly stop them from being together, the only thing that's ever managed to keep them apart, has been their work for the Wardens. Sometimes, she tries to make herself resent it, to curse the order and its never-ending line of impossible and dangerous missions. It never lasts, though, and she ends up feeling helpless and guilty in the face of a cause that she would give everything for. She is giving everything for it: not returning home to Highever, parting ways with the man she loves with all her soul, eventually dying once her Calling claims her.
Robyn shifts closer, drawing him into a hug, breathing in the scent of him as she tilts her chin upward into the embrace, the scruff of his cheek tickling her own. ]
Promise me you won't grow a beard. [ She says suddenly, pulling back to study him, trying to keep the clear amusement from her lips. ] I would never recognize you if you did. I could stand in front of you and still wonder whatever had happened to the long-lost Alistair Theirin.
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[Shifting back to give Robyn room to move, he leans close again as she holds him, letting some of his weight rest against her so she can't easily move away. Even as he's squirming at the faintly ticklish sensation of her nuzzling him Alistair is doing his best to commit every second they're together to memory. Resting a hand on the small of her back, the other comes up to cup the back of her head and he stares back down at her with the same besotted smile he's worn when they're alone since he'd first laid eyes on her, or so he'd claim. In truth it might have taken a little longer than that. But not much.]
I know, I know. [Yet knowing what must be done never makes doing it any easier. Sighing, he lets himself be pulled into an embrace, curling around her protectively. The moment doesn't last long as Robyn pulls back to make what is clearly an insult to his manliness. Looking down his nose at her severely Alistair frowns.]
You don't think I'd look ruggedly handsome with a beard? Something like Duncan's? You wound me. [The attempt at affront doesn't survive long as he kisses the tip of her nose before rubbing his own rough cheek against hers. He's grinning when he pulls back to meet her gaze again.] If it pleases my lady, I shall shave every day in anticipation of your return.
[Arching an eyebrow he asks-] Is there anything else you'd have me do in your absence my love? Shall I chronicle each day and how much I miss you? Or light a candle in the chapel every night you're gone, until the Maker himself has no choice but to take notice of my despair and bring you back to me?
[It's all in jest yet privately he thinks he'll be writing her every day, regardless of the fact that once she sets out getting any letters to her will be almost impossible. They'll just pile up in a drawer somewhere until she gets back and he has to decide whether to give them to her or burn them out of embarrassment. Which isn't even a question, of course he'll give them to her so they can laugh over how ridiculous he is.]
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It says a lot about their relationship, though, that they've only grown closer and closer in the years that they'd rarely been in each other's company.
As such, Robyn gazes up at him, lost in his eyes, torn between memories and the present. No, I have to be here. Now. If she doesn't commit this to memory, she won't have as much to hold on to when she's alone, likely far below the ground. The Warden reaches up to press a light kiss to his lips, hovering there, raising a hand to trace the outline of his jaw. When she hugs him and he returns the gesture, she savors each second of his larger form draped over her, always feeling incredibly safe when he does, though the world is far from it. ]
You have your own rugged handsomeness, Warden mine. [ Again she laughs, a light giggle this time, gaze sweeping the prickle of hair outlining his face. When he leans in to nuzzle her, she cries out in surprise and delight, squirming to get away from his ticklish stubble. ]
Oh, don't do that. You know what I mean. [ Sometimes, men let their bears get out of control. Oghren's had been a sight, but that could have been a dwarven thing. There had been some days where Alistair himself, ten years younger, had neglected to shave, and though she hadn't really noticed, herself, Wynne or Leliana would make quiet suggestions to the other Warden sometimes when it happened. Whether or not they were doing it to try and encourage the young pair getting together, she has no idea, even now; why should their affections for each other have anything to do with what the hair on his face looks (looked) like? ]
Come with me. [ She mutters at a little whine, but she doesn't, can't, mean it. Someone has to stay with the order and settle the strangeness there, to look into Corypheus while a cure for their poisoned blood is found. Robyn peers demurely up at him, next adopting a saddened little pout, kissing along his not-beard, gradually making it all the way around. ] I'll be lonely in a tent all by myself. I've had it with not turning to find you there, snoring, in the middle of the night.
[ And for so many other reasons, but... he knows. She'll certainly miss his presence with a vigor the second they part ways. ]
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Tilting his head to press into her hand, Alistair smiles.] You're just saying that to get me to agree. And to stop. [Which just means he has to curl down and rub his face against her neck, the rough rasp of stubble against her skin quickly stopping in favour of pressing a kiss to the pulse at her throat. He's almost tempted to ignore the request, absurdly hoping for anything that might bring Robyn back faster even if it were simply to tease him for looking like an overgrown dwarf. A very handsome overgrown dwarf but still.]
I will. I'll follow you anywhere. [He can't but she has to - does - know it's still true. If he could he'd follow her wherever she was bound, down into the very depths of the Deep Roads without question. This Corypheus is really just selfish, raising his head after having not been heard of for centuries. He could have had the decency to wait until they've found this cure. The cure Alistair himself only half believes can be found but he believes in Robyn with every fibre of his being. If it can be done she'll find a way.]
But I don't snore so you'll be missing out there either way. [He's never heard himself snoring so clearly he doesn't. Any snoring she's heard in the past has been from her hound or other companions and he'll argue that to the bitter end when they're back to sleeping side by side as they should. Attempting to catch Robyn's mouth with his own as she kisses his face, Alistair murmurs-] I'll miss you too. Every time I have to wake up alone.
[Expression turning solemn he shifts back a little to give himself space. Reaching up and fishing under his shirt he tugs a familiar, cracked silver emblem of Andraste's Flame over his head and presses it into her hand.] I was going to wait till you were leaving but... take this with you. So I'll still be with you.
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I could never. [ Robyn says firmly, eyes blazing with intention. ] Not after everything. I know what it means to you, and you'll be with me whether I've taken it from you or no. You always are.
[ The sentiment is one she'll hold close, but she can't bring herself to take his mother's token. She thinks of when she'd first found it in Redcliffe, unsure of what to make of the cracked thing. She thinks of his expression when she'd turned it over to him, how full of wonder and awe he'd seemed at Eamon's repairing of the gift. Robyn closes his fingers over it again, clasping both of her hands over his. ]
I want you to keep it. [ The Warden says firmly, looking up at him with stubborn determination. ] You may find you need its strength in what's to come, as a reminder of those who care for you.
[ Of his mother and his uncle, long gone. Of her, the young Grey Warden of a decade past and of the present--
She seems as if something dawns on her and steps away slowly, slipping her grasp from his. ]
... I've just thought of something, I'll... be right back.
[ And Robyn slips from the room. It isn't much later that she returns, looking a little breathless, hurrying back over to him with a strange kind of brightness to her eyes. ]
Maybe this isn't the time. [ She says quietly, a little flustered. ] But-- Maybe it's the only time. Alistair-- [ She raises a hand to thumb at his cheek, though the other is still at her side, clutched at something in her fist as she strokes gently over his face. ] ... Hang on.
[ Maker, but she feels like a child at the moment. Robyn drops her hand and produces the other, unfurling her fingers to reveal two rings in faded gold, wedding bands for a man and woman. ]
I got them from Fergus: they were my parents'. [ She continues softly. ] I thought, just now... this seems right. We never needed for things to be official, but... maybe I want it that way, after all.
[ The palm stays open and she frets a little at her lower lip as if she's afraid he'll scorn the idea. ]
I am yours, just as I've always been. [ The Warden finishes, lifting his free hand with her own to press her lips to his knuckles. ] I want everyone to know that just as I do.
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When she's back, he shoots her a questioning look but holds his tongue. As curious as he is about what prompted her to rush off like that he knows there will be a good reason for it and she'll explain in time.
Although it seems she's having some difficulty putting it into words. With a worried frown he glances down at her clenched fist, mouth opening to ask what's wrong when she opens her hand at last.
He stares at the rings uncomprehendingly, mind blank and mouth hanging open until he gathers the presence of mind to close it.
...Her parents' rings. Her parents' rings. His gaze finally drags up to Robyn's face, disbelief written plain in his eyes. Her words shake it loose, too many other feelings to be easily untangled rushing in to replace it.
Finally, shakily, he exhales and covers her outstretched palm with his own, the amulet and rings caught between their hands. His other hand slips free to cup her cheek, mouth working soundlessly before he can finally force sound past the lump in his throat.]
I- [He stops and swallows, eyes suspiciously bright. The words 'are you sure' are on the tip of his tongue - stupid, given they've spent all these years together and he's never once had reason to think Robyn might one day no longer want him by her side. In a practical sense this will change nothing, just as Robyn says. They've each been the others since the Blight. But it does matter. Making such vows, before Andraste and the Maker for everyone to know-]
Nothing would make me happier. [His voice is tight but Alistair is distantly aware that he's smiling so broadly his cheeks hurt. Ducking his head he kisses her, murmuring against her lips-] I love you. Even if I should have been the one asking you.
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Nothing would make me happier. Still feeling like a younger girl, her stomach flips a bit and she ducks her chin, blushing and grinning brightly. She's in the midst of trying to determine a response when he kisses her and she kisses him back fiercely, her own hand rising against his face again, wanting more than anything for this, for them, to continue, to not need to part, after all. Maker, after all we've done, after what we've given, please-- ]
I love you, too. [ Robyn giggles, brushing his nose with hers in a brief nuzzle. ] And-- Hang 'should have,' we've always done things our way, and... I thought this would be a good time. We can say it was all your idea, if you like.
[ She doesn't care a bit, so long as he really does want to go through with it. When she'd been in Highever, growing up, she'd always imagined marrying a faceless, but handsome prince, or at least a noble, as her imagination dictated. Their family's status could well have allowed for either, once. Even so, they'd always just been fantasies, and they'd seemed much less important as she'd grown. She was close to her family and enjoyed her life as it was; why would there be any need to change that?
Technically, maybe, she'd be marrying royalty (though, of course, he'd renounced his claim to appease Anora). It matters even less now than ever, though, because she knows far and away that her feelings for Alistair would be there, would be just as strong and true, no matter where he'd come from. ]
We can go soon, before-- [ "Before we go our separate ways." Robyn swallows. ] We could go to the nearest Chantry or just find the closest Revered Mother, and-- We could really do this, Alistair. If you'll have me.
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Much as I'd like to claim the credit I wouldn't dream of it. [And in truth he wouldn't want to. Tradition be damned, he's going to tell anyone who cares to hear it - and everyone who doesn't - that Robyn Cousland asked him to marry her. He'll sound like some ridiculous Orlesian noblewoman bragging about her engagement and he doesn't even care.] It's a perfect time.
[It could only be better if they weren't going to be separated in the near future. A prospect that is even more unwelcome knowing that it means, even if they find a Revered Mother now, they'll have only a few days together as husband and wife. There's another plea for her to take him with her on his tongue - or a suggestion that they should wait and plan a huge ceremony for next season, somewhere in Ferelden and it will take simply months to organise the guest-list alone and he can't do it on his own - but he swallows it all back down. This is enough. It's more than he'd ever hoped for growing up the unwelcome, unwanted bastard and is better than a thousand thrones he'd never wanted.]
Yes. Maker, yes. [He laughs. How could that even be a question?] Of course I'll have you. Forever. I can't let the only woman who can put up with me escape. [Pausing, Alistair kisses her nose.] We can go now.
[He makes no move to go anywhere just yet, despite the suggestion. He wants this yes, wants to swear himself to her forever before the Maker but he's almost afraid to move lest something goes wrong or he wakes up.]
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