[ Denemrim seems heavy with silence tonight, in spite of the sheer number of people who live within its walls. It's in this quiet that Morrigan's words echo so loudly still, after the Witch of the Wilds had angrily decried the Warden's choice and left (assumedly for good). Robyn stood in that room for some time after, eyes lingering on the dying fire - on the bed - wondering if she had made the right choice.
"Then you are a fool." Perhaps so, to turn away what may be their one and only chance to avoid the loss of one of the few remaining Grey Wardens. But...to choose something that didn't sit well at all with her in this eleventh hour would be a betrayal of the path she had taken thus far. Robyn feels this, objectively, and...still mourns. For the loss of a friend and ally: the sharp sting, as if one of her fingers had left her hand.
Not long after, now saddled with the knowledge of what she may have declined, she walks. Leaves the room where Morrigan had offered life over death, down the cold halls of stone, and then up and out onto the battlements. Calen - attentive, as all mabari are - trots at her heels, tongue lolling. Though Robyn's mind is very certainly still looping her earlier argument with the mage, she admits a faint smile as the dog huffs and puffs and pants the whole way up. ]
Maker. [ She sighs and it's visible in the chilled air. Robyn presses her back to the stone and slides against it to the ground, arms crossed over her chest, hands grasping tight. What next? It seems clear, based on how Morrigan - Riordan - everyone was speaking that "next" is "a slaughter." Hopefully, if the Maker is indeed on their side, the sacrifices that must be made will ultimately lead to the end of the Blight. An icy hand curls around her heart as she tries and fails to avoid picturing who might be counted among the dead tomorrow, as she sees the faces of her friends and companions glassy-eyed and gone. If I have anything to do with it... Though her power is limited, she knows already that everything within her ability will go toward being the one to strike that final blow, as one Warden must, rather than her seniors.
Time - fate - would tell. She exhales again, trying to steady. Feeling decidedly unmoored. ]
[Alistair has had better days, to say the least. He'd take another bout through the dead trenches smeared with the visceral remains of darkspawn before reliving the emotional turmoil he'd been put through in Denerim alone. He had built up a fantasy in his head for how things would go once the Blight had ended, it helped him cope when the archdemon infiltrated his dreams at night. At first, he'd dreamed that he'd live with his sister and her children as one big happy family, surrounded by love. This, of course, fell shattering to the floor upon reuniting with her and the heartbreak that followed. He'd then thought maybe he'd travel, see some place beautiful in the company of those he cared for, but this too turned to heartbreak as Riordan had delivered his news. No happy endings. Not that he felt particularly entitled to one, anyway.
He had thought he saw his fellow Warden's shadow, he'd hoped it was hers, could tell it from anywhere, having seen it beside his own for so many battles already. Alistair followed her footsteps through the dark corridors tepidly, knowing in his heart that this may be their last interaction before one of them was required to give their life to save everything. Alistair knew that if it had to be him, he would do it without hesitation. Duncan would have wanted a heroes death for him, wouldn't he? But it still frightened him, and as he caught sight of Robyn huddled against the stone, he knew she feared it too. His heart sank.]
I see you can't sleep either.
[Alistair chuckles in his way-- anything to make the situation less tense, and finds a spot beside her to have a seat.]
[ Even without the natural nightmares suffered by all Wardens, Alistair and Robyn have respectively seen enough tragedy and horror to fill their dreams with darkness. Their days, too, if those memories were allowed to seep into an awake, wandering mind. Robyn often has to gently shift the night of the attack at Highever from her thoughts, bid the sounds of the attack back into the distant recesses of herself.
There is fresh grief for tonight, though. New, and...awful, as always.
Alistair finds her, as if the cursed blood that lives in both of their veins is somehow magnetic. The Warden smiles thinly, shifting to make room as he sinks down at her side. ]
Mm - no, not exactly. [ In another universe, this is a different conversation. One quite a bit more uncomfortable. She glances sideways, surreptitiously - wondering all at once if it was wrong to refuse Morrigan outright, to speak for Alistair when he might be perfect content to carry on with the deal in exchange for their lives.
(Somehow, she can't envision that being the case, but taking away his ability to choose sits badly with her nonetheless.)
She swallows. ]
...Hoping that the air up here wakes me up, actually. It'll be any moment now and the cold, cold air will shock me awake. Back to...before, and all of this will have been a particularly involved dream...
[ To imagine not having met any of her companions is a sadness all its own, but that would be a sacrifice she'd make to bring back the lives of those lost since the Blight began. Since the Grey Wardens were slaughtered, and King Cailan...and before that... ]
But, then, I'm not sure I've slept especially well since we began all this, whether we're at camp or allowed a real bed.
And I suppose that makes me something your subconscious came up with, then? [He scoffs,] I'm the best it could do?
[Alistair can't help himself, his coping mechanism is humor, and his mouth has gotten him into trouble more times than he can count on his fingers and toes. Perhaps if he makes enough jokes tonight, they'll forget about the bloodbath to come, and at least in their final hours have pleasant dreams.
He rests his arms over his knees, looking off into the cold, where she can't catch his gaze. A good night's sleep was asking too much, of course. He thinks this even before Robyn addresses it.]
Oh, if I've imagined all this, then I think I really must give credit to my subconscious for all of its vivid creations. [ Such an imaginative adventure they've had! And with such diverse traveling companions. The Warden smiles sideways, head tilted as she considers Alistair. ] How dare you insult one of my creations. That is: you.
[ She's happy to joke alongside him, to try and put themselves as much at ease as is possible. It's never been more difficult than it is today. ]
Well, I hope a bit of sleep won't make all the difference in the battle tomorrow. [ Who needs it, right?? ] ...I suppose it would be better to ask around, if anyone here has some sort of sleeping draught.
[ Not that it would be better to oversleep for the fight, either... ]
- If we had more time, [ Robyn starts up suddenly, taking another turn, unable (and perhaps unwilling) to stop herself from speaking her mind here, at the end) ] what would you do? If you had another day after this without responsibility...how would you spend it?
[Her playing along draws his attention again, and Alistair offers a
soft chuckle at her commentary.] Oh-- deeply sorry, I hadn't
realized you'd grown so attached to him.
[Alistair himself would rather not sleep, he thinks. He'd run on
adrenaline alone, and if they won the battle, he'd get sleep as his reward.
Assuming the Big Sleep wasn't in store for him instead... perhaps also
well-earned. It wasn't as if he had great aspirations, he'd be cursed to
nearly thirty more years of tragedy and fighting, battle would be the way
he went, one way or another, even if he'd much rather it be much later in
life.]
What a question. [He'd never really considered it. His dreams of a
family weren't precisely within reach, and that wasn't something he'd be
able to accomplish in a mere day anyway. But assuming he'd be given a
choice for once in his life... well, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
He's not the kind of person who had ever made a choice for himself.
He considered for a moment, his hands fumbling a bit over his knees almost
anxiously.] I suppose in the company of those I care for. Somewhere
beautiful. Is that too cheesy? That's cheesy, isn't it...
Cheesy is your style, usually, isn't it? [ Little double entendre, there. She winks, but there's a usual warmth that's lacking in her little smile. ] I think that's just fine, Alistair. It sounds...lovely.
[ To be with the people you love in a beautiful place. It's the kind of thing she dreams of, too. Somewhere in Ferelden, looking out over the land regrown after the blight. Though her family is gone, she would certainly cherish to spend that time with the companions she'd met thus far.
Robyn is quiet, considering. Calan rests his enormous head on Alistair's thigh, huffing contentedly. ]
If anything happens - [ She begins, nearly surprising herself, not looking over at him. ] Will you take care of him?
[ The Warden lays a hand on her mabari's back, indicating. ]
I suppose it satisfies my palate one way or another. [He chuckles
lightly, despite himself. It's easier for him to not address the awkward
elephant in the room. But then Robyn does just that as Alistair pats
affectionately at Calan's head, ever affectionate.
Alistair's gaze leaves the mabari to watch Robyn. She can't be suggesting
sacrificing herself, can she? But of course she would... she had always
been more strong and fierce than he ever was. Alistair isn't sure why he
hadn't expected as much of her. He swallows hard, feeling a lump in his
throat that he's not ready to come to terms with.]
Of course I would-- but you can't, I mean, you aren't expecting to...you
know.
I'm certainly not planning on it. [ The Warden huffs, crossing her arms. ] But I also think it would be naive to assume any one of us is without the risk. If the opportunity to slay the archdemon is...you know, just there, then I'm not going to stand 'round and wait for another Warden to take care of it, am I?
[ Not Riordan. Certainly not Alistair. ]
I only mean that...anything could happen tomorrow. [ Something small flutters suddenly in the pit of her stomach. ] Best to be prepared.
[ Grim though it may be.
Robyn goes quiet again, turning her hands over in her lap. ]
...Maker. [ There's a heavy sigh before she looks over at him, guilt clear in her face. ] Alistair, I've got to tell you-... Something happened. Morrigan's gone. Not-...dead, or anything, but...she left. Because of me.
Of course... [He replies quickly, even if he isn't happy about it. Alistair, too, is not going to let the perfect chance go to waste because he's afraid of death. It would put too many lives at stake.]
I would do the same. So then. I suppose, depending on who strikes that final, lucky blow, well, yes, of course. I'll watch after him.
[He pats affectionately at the mabari's back, scratching at him a bit when Robyn continues to speak. Her tone has changed, and it causes him to focus again on her.
He'd never trusted Morrigan, so it comes at no surprise to him that she's gone, and his eyes all but roll back into his head for good as Robyn tells him she's left. Of course she left... probably set them up for failure on purpose, that one. Never can trust a witch... Alistair scoffs.]
Hardly because of you, I'm sure. Maker's breath, what happened? Did she turn into a bat and fly away??
Er. [ The Warden flushes in increasingly-deeper shades, clearly more than a little uncomfortable with the situation. "Hardly because of me?" It could be entirely because of me. ] She...
[ Maker. With the event itself still incredibly fresh in her mind, but the opportunity now long gone, it's nearly impossible to get the words out to someone who was, in theory, so - ah, intimately involved in the situation... ]
She... [ Robyn begins again, curling her fingers into the material of her sleeve and then releasing it again ] ...Claimed that she had a way to avoid the need for any Warden sacrifice in defeating the archdemon. She said that...I should convince a male Warden - you - to carry out a ritual.
[ Not for the first time this evening, she wonders if she might have agreed, were she able to carry it out herself. If she were able. But, then...no. The whole issue had been the question of the ritual's greater, unknown consequences, and not its being a burden on another. ]
Morrigan said that she could prevent the sacrifice if you had a child with her.
[ Speaking it is like drawing the poison from a wound, though the wound is still left fresh and raw in its wake. ]
[Alistair's eyebrows pop up and he smiles, then laughs,
heartily laughs, like it's the funniest thing he's heard in his
life.]
She wanted you to convince me to have a child with her?
That's hilarious, maker--- really, hilarious. You see, that's why I
like you-- you're funny. You're... [His voice trails off
noticing that Robyn hasn't been laughing with him and reality sinks
in.]
You're not joking...
[Cue stammering, Alistair can't seem to grasp the situation, what
sort of ritual would that even be? How would having a child with her
save anyone?]
What sort of ritual is that?! How does she--- no, no.. it doesn't
matter. So you told her no? And she left angry? No wonder she looked
at me the way she did when I saw her... icy even for her.
I'm not sure what sort of ritual it is. That's why I told her I wouldn't ask.
[ His reaction...does reassure her, somehow. That she hadn't been mad in denying their mage an incredibly vague ritual to an unknown end. ]
I didn't mean to deny you your choice - Maker knows, it's got more to do with you than it does me - but I-...it didn't feel right. There were too many questions...
[ Surely it would be related to blood magic of some kind? How else could that save them from the archdemon? ]
So, ah...whoever does strike down the archdemon tomorrow has me to blame, I suppose. [ Robyn adds lightly, tucking an errant braid behind her ear. No, she doesn't really regret the decision, but that doesn't make it less of a complicated thing. ]
Please-- no, I think if anything you've done me a favor.
[There's a sort of... sigh of relief there.]
Thank you. Even if I do take the last blow. We don't know what other sort of consequences that may have had.
[Although, now he has a rather painful image in his head of... Ugh, no. Why is he thinking about this? Alistair visibly winces, and when he speaks again, his voice is rather timid.]
I was thinking the same... [ What sort of child might it be, if it were human at all? If Morrigan had been willing to explain more of the details...but, the mage had been mysterious from the start. It wasn't her way to stop to walk through each and every thing, to answer questions tirelessly. The Warden laments Morrigan's departure, certainly mourns the death - deaths - that will come tomorrow, but feels the knot in her stomach loosen slightly.
Alistair's comment...somehow, despite everything else, brings rosy spots high in her cheeks. ]
...It wouldn't be - er. Ideal, I imagine. For...the first.
[ To sleep with someone for the very first time in a questionable ritual with someone you've a distaste for? It sounds close to an absolute nightmare. ]
- I've not either, so. I can only guess at what that would be like.
[ They've never discussed This before, but...why not now? One or both of them may die tomorrow, and your potential last night alive seems as good a time as any to speak of intimacy with your fellow man, doesn't it? ]
[Alistair feels like he can't look Robyn in the eye after that comment, but considering the rapor they've built between one another, it's easy for him to not be embarrassed. There's no one in the world left alive that knows him better, he thinks.
He's still idly scratching at the Mabari as she speaks. About a million and ten sharp-tongued responses spark in his head, but they all feel inappropriate. He bites idly at his lower lip for a moment, trying with all of his might to for once in his life think before he speaks.]
Don't want to guess. Not with her-- [He waves it off.]
Look, I know as a man I'm expected to lunge at the chance for such a thing but, well, the opportunity never really presented itself and, well, I'd much rather enjoy the first and very likely last time I'm involved in the act.
[ This isn't the first time they've had somewhat bashful conversations, but it's certainly the first so directly about this, and it's...also a change in tone. The pair of Wardens both still have a respectful level of delicacy to their words, but they both know, too, that this may be their last night alive. The embarrassment is tempered greatly by that somber knowledge. ]
Don't think on it anymore. [ She offers bluntly, amending further: ] About - all that. With Morrigan. She's left now, so there's no use worrying on it anymore...
[ Is she trying to convince herself? Yes. Most definitely. ]
"Supposed to" is rubbish, Alistair. You should do what you like. [ Robyn tilts her head slightly, allowing a bit of a smile to peek through. ] You know, within reason.
[ The Warden certainly hadn't considered that she might be killed without having ever been intimate with someone, but she certainly is now that they're talking about it. It's...a complicated feeling, like everything else surrounding them these days. ]
I think with something like that, you...know. If it's the right thing, and the right time. Again, I've got nothing to base that on, but I do believe it all the same.
[Alistair laughed, but his cheeks were still very flushed pink. What he'd like? He very much didn't know. He rarely got to do things he liked, was used to people making decisions for him. Even though Robyn very much encouraged him to be more decisive, he often felt more comfortable following her lead. The thought that he may have had to lead a nation if things had went differently made him sick.]
I'd like it to be with someone I trust. Someone I care for. I don't know. It's a moot point now, I suppose.
[He felt childish talking about it, which was ironic because a well adjusted adult should have no issue discussing sex. It's just another thing about being human... well, being anything. Life. But there was still a childlike embarrassment factor to it, and a lot of it, he assumed, was because he was talking to a beautiful woman... who he trusted, and cared for. Oh, maker.]
[ All at once, the Warden is aware of how they'd transitioned somehow from a morbid discussion of the inevitably of their deaths to...this, and clears her throat. ]
I - yes, it's...right. [ Maker, how did they arrive here? There's an incredibly confusing blend of the initial sadness and...something else swirling around in the pit of her stomach. Desperation, maybe, prompted by the whole conversation. And...other things, too, more unexpected. And new. ]
Forget all of that. I'm sorry to have - complicated what should be a night of...I don't know, sitting around and telling stories, or doing nothing at all. Something simple, and easy...
[ Trying to drive home further the notion that everything is Fine, she reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it tight and looking determinedly at the other Warden. ]
I only ever brought up all of that - with Morrigan - because I care about you, Alistair. Enough that I wanted to make sure I'd made a choice that...didn't cross the line. That I didn't chance that I might drive you away the way I did her.
[The pink on his cheeks somehow managed to travel back to his ears, burning hot as Robyn takes his hand. He squeezes it back, shaking his head ever so slightly as if in disbelief. Did he really have to have feelings like this, the night before what may be the most important battle of his life? The one that might end it? And worse, may end Robyn's, leaving Alistair alone... making the loss of a loved one during battle an unfortunate trend in his life. ]
I know-- I... care about you too. And I am thankful. You won't get rid of me so easily... although I suppose you could soak me in lye with the rest of your linens.
[ That makes her laugh, and she gives his hand a last, affirming squeeze before withdrawing, scratching again at Calen's head. ]
You're - mm. Extraordinary. [ She says, eyes bright, looking...almost disbelieving. Then, something seems to occur to her, and the Warden gets to her feet. ]
Hang on - I've got an idea. I'll be right back. [ She holds out a hand to the mabari to indicate that he should stay behind before disappearing back down the tower's steps.
Within five to ten minutes, Robyn appears again, hands full: one holds a tankard (some of its contents sloshing somewhat as she approaches) and the other clutches a wine skin. ]
From some of our friends. [ She explains, now grinning. ] Oghren provided the ale, of course, saying nothing of what it is, but warned me that it's "a powerful one." He's also filled it...too much. [ It. Does not smell great, either. ] And the wine is a gift from Zevran, who said he'd be happy to "graciously" share with us the best red he's found in Denerim, though he also mentioned that wasn't saying much, "considering the state of Ferelden wine." [ She finishes in her best impression of his accent, laughing a little again. ]
Would you like some of either? [ The Warden offers finally, shrugging. ]
Well that's a first. [As she stands to leave, Alistair pats the Mabari on the back, giving him a caring look.] Right. We'll be right here, swapping war stories... or whatever manly thing is expected of us the night before a battle.
[Of course, Robyn will return to him still talking to the dog, but mostly telling him he's a very good boy and very clever. As she comes closer, he sits up, grinning at her bounty.]
Ah! Well. I suppose I should be the voice of reason, here, but when have I ever been known to do that? Hand one over. [He reaches for the ale, and once it's close enough for him to smell he regrets his choice immediately.]
I hope you've been a good influence on him while I've been away. [ She chuckles, scritching Calen's head again after Alistair accepts the ale. ] Because some of the others have also been talking to him, and I'm worried what sort of influence it will have on his impressionable mind.
[ The dog pants a bit, then rolls over on his side. ]
I think it's reasonable to have a tiny bit of indulgence the night before...something like this, don't you? [ Robyn takes a sip, then, pleased that Zevran had in fact given them a decent wine (or so she assumes, not exactly being a connoisseur of the stuff. ] Mm. You know, I think you've left me with the better stuff, here.
[ Perhaps not as potent as whatever sludge Oghren provided, but it's at least palatable. ]
Of course I have! [Hesitating for a moment, he takes a taste of the ale in front of him, and nearly gags, wincing as he tries to hold it down. It really is awful.]
Yes, of course. Ah-- you know... I've only had Dwarven ale once, and I was certain it was given to me as a joke. Are we sure this isn't an Oghren prank?
[Coughing, he clears his throat and attempts another sip, swallowing it down quickly so that he won't have to taste it, but it burns all the same.]
No, I'm not sure of that at all. But if he is pranking us, then we will find time for appropriate revenge.
[ Meanwhile, the wine is fruity and sweet and it brings blooms of pink to her cheeks before long. ]
You don't have to drink it, you know. [ She points out, giggling at the face he makes when he imbibes. ] I'd happily share the wine with you, if you'd prefer. ...To be honest, now I'm curious about just how "dangerous" that sludge he gave us actually is.
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"Then you are a fool." Perhaps so, to turn away what may be their one and only chance to avoid the loss of one of the few remaining Grey Wardens. But...to choose something that didn't sit well at all with her in this eleventh hour would be a betrayal of the path she had taken thus far. Robyn feels this, objectively, and...still mourns. For the loss of a friend and ally: the sharp sting, as if one of her fingers had left her hand.
Not long after, now saddled with the knowledge of what she may have declined, she walks. Leaves the room where Morrigan had offered life over death, down the cold halls of stone, and then up and out onto the battlements. Calen - attentive, as all mabari are - trots at her heels, tongue lolling. Though Robyn's mind is very certainly still looping her earlier argument with the mage, she admits a faint smile as the dog huffs and puffs and pants the whole way up. ]
Maker. [ She sighs and it's visible in the chilled air. Robyn presses her back to the stone and slides against it to the ground, arms crossed over her chest, hands grasping tight. What next? It seems clear, based on how Morrigan - Riordan - everyone was speaking that "next" is "a slaughter." Hopefully, if the Maker is indeed on their side, the sacrifices that must be made will ultimately lead to the end of the Blight. An icy hand curls around her heart as she tries and fails to avoid picturing who might be counted among the dead tomorrow, as she sees the faces of her friends and companions glassy-eyed and gone. If I have anything to do with it... Though her power is limited, she knows already that everything within her ability will go toward being the one to strike that final blow, as one Warden must, rather than her seniors.
Time - fate - would tell. She exhales again, trying to steady. Feeling decidedly unmoored. ]
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He had thought he saw his fellow Warden's shadow, he'd hoped it was hers, could tell it from anywhere, having seen it beside his own for so many battles already. Alistair followed her footsteps through the dark corridors tepidly, knowing in his heart that this may be their last interaction before one of them was required to give their life to save everything. Alistair knew that if it had to be him, he would do it without hesitation. Duncan would have wanted a heroes death for him, wouldn't he? But it still frightened him, and as he caught sight of Robyn huddled against the stone, he knew she feared it too. His heart sank.]
I see you can't sleep either.
[Alistair chuckles in his way-- anything to make the situation less tense, and finds a spot beside her to have a seat.]
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There is fresh grief for tonight, though. New, and...awful, as always.
Alistair finds her, as if the cursed blood that lives in both of their veins is somehow magnetic. The Warden smiles thinly, shifting to make room as he sinks down at her side. ]
Mm - no, not exactly. [ In another universe, this is a different conversation. One quite a bit more uncomfortable. She glances sideways, surreptitiously - wondering all at once if it was wrong to refuse Morrigan outright, to speak for Alistair when he might be perfect content to carry on with the deal in exchange for their lives.
(Somehow, she can't envision that being the case, but taking away his ability to choose sits badly with her nonetheless.)
She swallows. ]
...Hoping that the air up here wakes me up, actually. It'll be any moment now and the cold, cold air will shock me awake. Back to...before, and all of this will have been a particularly involved dream...
[ To imagine not having met any of her companions is a sadness all its own, but that would be a sacrifice she'd make to bring back the lives of those lost since the Blight began. Since the Grey Wardens were slaughtered, and King Cailan...and before that... ]
But, then, I'm not sure I've slept especially well since we began all this, whether we're at camp or allowed a real bed.
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[Alistair can't help himself, his coping mechanism is humor, and his mouth has gotten him into trouble more times than he can count on his fingers and toes. Perhaps if he makes enough jokes tonight, they'll forget about the bloodbath to come, and at least in their final hours have pleasant dreams.
He rests his arms over his knees, looking off into the cold, where she can't catch his gaze. A good night's sleep was asking too much, of course. He thinks this even before Robyn addresses it.]
No, I suspect not.
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[ She's happy to joke alongside him, to try and put themselves as much at ease as is possible. It's never been more difficult than it is today. ]
Well, I hope a bit of sleep won't make all the difference in the battle tomorrow. [ Who needs it, right?? ] ...I suppose it would be better to ask around, if anyone here has some sort of sleeping draught.
[ Not that it would be better to oversleep for the fight, either... ]
- If we had more time, [ Robyn starts up suddenly, taking another turn, unable (and perhaps unwilling) to stop herself from speaking her mind here, at the end) ] what would you do? If you had another day after this without responsibility...how would you spend it?
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[Her playing along draws his attention again, and Alistair offers a soft chuckle at her commentary.] Oh-- deeply sorry, I hadn't realized you'd grown so attached to him.
[Alistair himself would rather not sleep, he thinks. He'd run on adrenaline alone, and if they won the battle, he'd get sleep as his reward. Assuming the Big Sleep wasn't in store for him instead... perhaps also well-earned. It wasn't as if he had great aspirations, he'd be cursed to nearly thirty more years of tragedy and fighting, battle would be the way he went, one way or another, even if he'd much rather it be much later in life.]
What a question. [He'd never really considered it. His dreams of a family weren't precisely within reach, and that wasn't something he'd be able to accomplish in a mere day anyway. But assuming he'd be given a choice for once in his life... well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He's not the kind of person who had ever made a choice for himself. He considered for a moment, his hands fumbling a bit over his knees almost anxiously.] I suppose in the company of those I care for. Somewhere beautiful. Is that too cheesy? That's cheesy, isn't it...
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[ To be with the people you love in a beautiful place. It's the kind of thing she dreams of, too. Somewhere in Ferelden, looking out over the land regrown after the blight. Though her family is gone, she would certainly cherish to spend that time with the companions she'd met thus far.
Robyn is quiet, considering. Calan rests his enormous head on Alistair's thigh, huffing contentedly. ]
If anything happens - [ She begins, nearly surprising herself, not looking over at him. ] Will you take care of him?
[ The Warden lays a hand on her mabari's back, indicating. ]
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I suppose it satisfies my palate one way or another. [He chuckles lightly, despite himself. It's easier for him to not address the awkward elephant in the room. But then Robyn does just that as Alistair pats affectionately at Calan's head, ever affectionate.
Alistair's gaze leaves the mabari to watch Robyn. She can't be suggesting sacrificing herself, can she? But of course she would... she had always been more strong and fierce than he ever was. Alistair isn't sure why he hadn't expected as much of her. He swallows hard, feeling a lump in his throat that he's not ready to come to terms with.]
Of course I would-- but you can't, I mean, you aren't expecting to...you know.
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[ Not Riordan. Certainly not Alistair. ]
I only mean that...anything could happen tomorrow. [ Something small flutters suddenly in the pit of her stomach. ] Best to be prepared.
[ Grim though it may be.
Robyn goes quiet again, turning her hands over in her lap. ]
...Maker. [ There's a heavy sigh before she looks over at him, guilt clear in her face. ] Alistair, I've got to tell you-... Something happened. Morrigan's gone. Not-...dead, or anything, but...she left. Because of me.
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I would do the same. So then. I suppose, depending on who strikes that final, lucky blow, well, yes, of course. I'll watch after him.
[He pats affectionately at the mabari's back, scratching at him a bit when Robyn continues to speak. Her tone has changed, and it causes him to focus again on her.
He'd never trusted Morrigan, so it comes at no surprise to him that she's gone, and his eyes all but roll back into his head for good as Robyn tells him she's left. Of course she left... probably set them up for failure on purpose, that one. Never can trust a witch... Alistair scoffs.]
Hardly because of you, I'm sure. Maker's breath, what happened? Did she turn into a bat and fly away??
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[ Maker. With the event itself still incredibly fresh in her mind, but the opportunity now long gone, it's nearly impossible to get the words out to someone who was, in theory, so - ah, intimately involved in the situation... ]
She... [ Robyn begins again, curling her fingers into the material of her sleeve and then releasing it again ] ...Claimed that she had a way to avoid the need for any Warden sacrifice in defeating the archdemon. She said that...I should convince a male Warden - you - to carry out a ritual.
[ Not for the first time this evening, she wonders if she might have agreed, were she able to carry it out herself. If she were able. But, then...no. The whole issue had been the question of the ritual's greater, unknown consequences, and not its being a burden on another. ]
Morrigan said that she could prevent the sacrifice if you had a child with her.
[ Speaking it is like drawing the poison from a wound, though the wound is still left fresh and raw in its wake. ]
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[Alistair's eyebrows pop up and he smiles, then laughs, heartily laughs, like it's the funniest thing he's heard in his life.]
She wanted you to convince me to have a child with her? That's hilarious, maker--- really, hilarious. You see, that's why I like you-- you're funny. You're... [His voice trails off noticing that Robyn hasn't been laughing with him and reality sinks in.]
You're not joking...
[Cue stammering, Alistair can't seem to grasp the situation, what sort of ritual would that even be? How would having a child with her save anyone?]
What sort of ritual is that?! How does she--- no, no.. it doesn't matter. So you told her no? And she left angry? No wonder she looked at me the way she did when I saw her... icy even for her.
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[ His reaction...does reassure her, somehow. That she hadn't been mad in denying their mage an incredibly vague ritual to an unknown end. ]
I didn't mean to deny you your choice - Maker knows, it's got more to do with you than it does me - but I-...it didn't feel right. There were too many questions...
[ Surely it would be related to blood magic of some kind? How else could that save them from the archdemon? ]
So, ah...whoever does strike down the archdemon tomorrow has me to blame, I suppose. [ Robyn adds lightly, tucking an errant braid behind her ear. No, she doesn't really regret the decision, but that doesn't make it less of a complicated thing. ]
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[There's a sort of... sigh of relief there.]
Thank you. Even if I do take the last blow. We don't know what other sort of consequences that may have had.
[Although, now he has a rather painful image in his head of... Ugh, no. Why is he thinking about this? Alistair visibly winces, and when he speaks again, his voice is rather timid.]
You know I've... never even... Ugh, nevermind.
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Alistair's comment...somehow, despite everything else, brings rosy spots high in her cheeks. ]
...It wouldn't be - er. Ideal, I imagine. For...the first.
[ To sleep with someone for the very first time in a questionable ritual with someone you've a distaste for? It sounds close to an absolute nightmare. ]
- I've not either, so. I can only guess at what that would be like.
[ They've never discussed This before, but...why not now? One or both of them may die tomorrow, and your potential last night alive seems as good a time as any to speak of intimacy with your fellow man, doesn't it? ]
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He's still idly scratching at the Mabari as she speaks. About a million and ten sharp-tongued responses spark in his head, but they all feel inappropriate. He bites idly at his lower lip for a moment, trying with all of his might to for once in his life think before he speaks.]
Don't want to guess. Not with her-- [He waves it off.]
Look, I know as a man I'm expected to lunge at the chance for such a thing but, well, the opportunity never really presented itself and, well, I'd much rather enjoy the first and very likely last time I'm involved in the act.
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Don't think on it anymore. [ She offers bluntly, amending further: ] About - all that. With Morrigan. She's left now, so there's no use worrying on it anymore...
[ Is she trying to convince herself? Yes. Most definitely. ]
"Supposed to" is rubbish, Alistair. You should do what you like. [ Robyn tilts her head slightly, allowing a bit of a smile to peek through. ] You know, within reason.
[ The Warden certainly hadn't considered that she might be killed without having ever been intimate with someone, but she certainly is now that they're talking about it. It's...a complicated feeling, like everything else surrounding them these days. ]
I think with something like that, you...know. If it's the right thing, and the right time. Again, I've got nothing to base that on, but I do believe it all the same.
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I'd like it to be with someone I trust. Someone I care for. I don't know. It's a moot point now, I suppose.
[He felt childish talking about it, which was ironic because a well adjusted adult should have no issue discussing sex. It's just another thing about being human... well, being anything. Life. But there was still a childlike embarrassment factor to it, and a lot of it, he assumed, was because he was talking to a beautiful woman... who he trusted, and cared for. Oh, maker.]
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I - yes, it's...right. [ Maker, how did they arrive here? There's an incredibly confusing blend of the initial sadness and...something else swirling around in the pit of her stomach. Desperation, maybe, prompted by the whole conversation. And...other things, too, more unexpected. And new. ]
Forget all of that. I'm sorry to have - complicated what should be a night of...I don't know, sitting around and telling stories, or doing nothing at all. Something simple, and easy...
[ Trying to drive home further the notion that everything is Fine, she reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it tight and looking determinedly at the other Warden. ]
I only ever brought up all of that - with Morrigan - because I care about you, Alistair. Enough that I wanted to make sure I'd made a choice that...didn't cross the line. That I didn't chance that I might drive you away the way I did her.
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I know-- I... care about you too. And I am thankful. You won't get rid of me so easily... although I suppose you could soak me in lye with the rest of your linens.
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You're - mm. Extraordinary. [ She says, eyes bright, looking...almost disbelieving. Then, something seems to occur to her, and the Warden gets to her feet. ]
Hang on - I've got an idea. I'll be right back. [ She holds out a hand to the mabari to indicate that he should stay behind before disappearing back down the tower's steps.
Within five to ten minutes, Robyn appears again, hands full: one holds a tankard (some of its contents sloshing somewhat as she approaches) and the other clutches a wine skin. ]
From some of our friends. [ She explains, now grinning. ] Oghren provided the ale, of course, saying nothing of what it is, but warned me that it's "a powerful one." He's also filled it...too much. [ It. Does not smell great, either. ] And the wine is a gift from Zevran, who said he'd be happy to "graciously" share with us the best red he's found in Denerim, though he also mentioned that wasn't saying much, "considering the state of Ferelden wine." [ She finishes in her best impression of his accent, laughing a little again. ]
Would you like some of either? [ The Warden offers finally, shrugging. ]
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Well that's a first. [As she stands to leave, Alistair pats the Mabari on the back, giving him a caring look.] Right. We'll be right here, swapping war stories... or whatever manly thing is expected of us the night before a battle.
[Of course, Robyn will return to him still talking to the dog, but mostly telling him he's a very good boy and very clever. As she comes closer, he sits up, grinning at her bounty.]
Ah! Well. I suppose I should be the voice of reason, here, but when have I ever been known to do that? Hand one over.
[He reaches for the ale, and once it's close enough for him to smell he regrets his choice immediately.]
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[ The dog pants a bit, then rolls over on his side. ]
I think it's reasonable to have a tiny bit of indulgence the night before...something like this, don't you? [ Robyn takes a sip, then, pleased that Zevran had in fact given them a decent wine (or so she assumes, not exactly being a connoisseur of the stuff. ] Mm. You know, I think you've left me with the better stuff, here.
[ Perhaps not as potent as whatever sludge Oghren provided, but it's at least palatable. ]
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Yes, of course. Ah-- you know... I've only had Dwarven ale once, and I was certain it was given to me as a joke. Are we sure this isn't an Oghren prank?
[Coughing, he clears his throat and attempts another sip, swallowing it down quickly so that he won't have to taste it, but it burns all the same.]
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[ Meanwhile, the wine is fruity and sweet and it brings blooms of pink to her cheeks before long. ]
You don't have to drink it, you know. [ She points out, giggling at the face he makes when he imbibes. ] I'd happily share the wine with you, if you'd prefer. ...To be honest, now I'm curious about just how "dangerous" that sludge he gave us actually is.
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A triumphant return.
/o
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