Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.
Chapter Summary: Liss prepares for the Joining, and Nathaniel finally has a chance to talk to her.
Author Note: I KNOW, I know. It’s only been three days, but nobody has waited longer for this particular chapter than I have. It’s basically been written for a few months shy of a year now, so... it just poured out. Sorry. ‘‘‘:)
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Vigils Keep, 9:31 Dragon
“Lady Cousland?”
It was a man’s voice, and an unfamiliar one at that, which drew Liss from the ruminative daze into which she had fallen when Lucia led her out of the main hall and into a study. The room must have once belonged to the late Arl, considering its size and the number of portraits of the man that still leaned against the walls. One painting in particular had caught her attention, a large oil piece of two young men, set aside from the others. One of the men looked remarkably like Nathaniel, but more gaunt, with thin lips, and an icy expression Nate couldn’t manage if he tried. The other man, rosy cheeked and grinning from ear to ear, was her father.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, but unwilling to look away from the portrait, she answered absentmindedly. “Hmm?”
“Is everything all righ—“ the man she knew to be Seneschal Garavel stopped as he moved closer and realized what had captured her attention— “Oh.”
“I very distinctly remember asking that those paintings be destroyed.” Lucia, who had been rummaging through a large, griffon-adorned chest in the back, remarked from behind them. “Then again, nobody listens to me around here.”
Garavel chuckled. “That is uncharacteristically dramatic.”
“I am in a mood,” she answered, allowing the chest to fall closed as she found what she was searching for. Setting a small leather satchel down on the desk, she walked around to stand between Liss and Garavel, studying the painting beneath dark brows. “Garavel, why are they still here?”
“Perhaps that is a question for Nathaniel.” He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Apparently, not too long before you two left for Denerim he saw one of the guards carrying some paintings out, and stopped him.”
“Odd, considering that he’s the one who keeps complaining about them,” Lucia said with a frown. “Did he give a reason?”
“Hardly. Just said ‘Not that one,’” he explained, pointing toward the painting of the two men. “After that, I figured we should make certain he did not wish to keep any of the others.”
Liss struggled against the urge to weep. When Howe’s forces ambushed her home, they’d set fire to it, ravaged it entirely. She didn’t know if any paintings of her father still existed. She didn’t mind overlooking the other man in the picture, just to see papa’s smile again. Nate. She wished she weren’t so angry with him.
Shaking her head and takingas deep breath to steady herself, she turned to face Lucia. “I apologize for my distraction. You wanted to speak to me about something?”
“Yes.” The other woman smiled slightly, an acknowledgment of Liss’ choice to change the subject, and moved back toward the desk, opening the satchel and removing three vials, setting each down with a quiet clank.
“What are those,” Liss asked, stepping forward to examine the containers more closely. Two of the glass vials each contained a deep red substance, one substantially smaller than the other. The third vial held a sparkling blue powder.
“The First Warden would not like me telling you this prior to the Joining, but you were not conscripted. You volunteered, and you deserve to know how this works before you go through with it.” Lucia moved to lean against the desk. “To become a Grey Warden, you have to drink a mixture of darkspawn blood, blood from the last slain archdemon, and lyrium powder.”
She held up the vials in order as she spoke and Liss’ stomach turned. Of course it wouldn’t be as simple as saying some sort of magical words that granted one Warden abilities. No, she would have to ingest something so vile that the potions Nan used to give her for a cold actually sounded appetizing. Still, she wouldn’t be turned away by a bad taste in her mouth.
“Right.” She nodded. “Drink the magic blood. No problem.”
“That is the easy part,” Lucia stated matter-of-factly. “The ritual is a form of blood magic, one the Chantry and everyone else are happy to overlook because Wardens are useful. Drinking alters your blood, taints it. Those who do not have the willpower to control the corruption die instantly. Those who do have about thirty years before they lose their grip.”
“That’s what Nathaniel said,” Liss added absently.
“He told you?”
“Not about the blood magic or anything,” Liss corrected, “Just about the thirty years.”
Lucia didn’t seem appeased by the clarification. “He’s desperate to talk you out of this.” She shook her head.
Liss laughed bitterly. “I do not need his approval.”
Frowning, Lucia straightened up from her leaning against the desk and brought her eyes to meet Liss’. “No, you don’t, but he is not without his reasons.”
“You mean his need to ‘protect’ me? I do not fear my own death as much as he does.” Liss hated the belligerence in her own voice. She sounded like an impudent child. Why was she so angry that Nathaniel cared about her? It’s what she wanted all along. It made no sense that she should resent him for it now.
“I don’t think it’s the death that he really wants to protect you from,” Lucia explained, “It’s the life. Once you are Joined, you will change.
“How?” She crossed her arms, but made an attempt to soften her tone, remembering that Garavel was still in the room, and she was supposed to be a dignified lady.
“Immediately, most Wardens experience an increase in stamina and appetite, restlessness, insomnia. Nothing you eat will taste good either.”
“That doesn’t sound—“
“If you do not have nightmares, you will.” Lucia interrupted her, face as calm as ever, though Liss could sense her irritation. A sensitive subject, no doubt. “If you already have nightmares, then they will become worse, at least initially.”
Liss thought of every nightmare she’d survived since the attack. It was difficult to fathom how they could possibly be worse. She pressed her lips together and nodded, intent on just listening to the woman.
“Wardens are typically unable to have children as well,” Lucia sighed, “Especially not with another Warden.”
“I wasn’t aware.”
“Of course not.” The words were pointed, but not at Liss. “The Wardens aren’t keen on those things being common knowledge, lest people be dissuaded from joining.”
Lucia paused and began to return the vials to the pouch, the room falling silent with the exception of glass hitting glass. She then continued. “I do not care what you decide, but whatever your choice, I want you to be certain it is what you want, that you are comfortable with the sacrifices you are making.”
“Do you give this lesson to all of your recruits, Commander,” Liss joked, regretting it instantly when Lucia snapped her eyes up in a scowl.
“No. I don’t.”
“Why me, then?”
“Because I think Nathaniel is right,” Lucia remarked, voice clipped. “I envy your ability to choose this. I certainly didn’t get to.”
“I—“
“If you still wish to become a Grey Warden, I welcome you. You will make an excellent member of the order.” Lucia’s expression softened. “I just thought you deserved the truth.”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Liss stated adamantly, though her voice trembled. She wasn’t accustomed to reproach. It was so easy to forget that she had more freedom than most, freedom that terrified her in its vastness and uncertainty. As much as she railed against rules and order, she thrived in their existence, and in the comfort of knowing where her boundaries lay, where her support was. She had none of that for a year, under the open skies of the Fereldan countryside, alone and lost, praying for someone to tell her what to do.
“Very well,” Lucia said with a nod, grasping the pouch of Joining ingredients more tightly in her hands before handing it to Garavel. “See to it that everything is prepared. I am told that there are two other recruits?”
“Yes Commander.”
“Have someone send for them when it is time,” Garavel nodded and bowed slightly before exiting the room. Lucia turned back to Liss and continued, “I will show you to your room.”
Liss followed her out of the room, down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. There was a long hallway that seemed to have once been the guest wing of Vigil’s Keep, now serving as Warden quarters. As they walked, Lucia explained that the non-warden soldiers, those from Amaranthine who were out of employment when the lands were taken from the Howe family, stayed in barracks on a different wing. Wardens, both recruits, and fully-joined members stayed in private rooms. The luxury of living with tainted blood, Liss presumed.
Lucia slowed as they approached one of the last few doors in the hall, pushing it open and gesturing inside. “This one’s you.”
"Thank you.”
“You are welcome. You should try to rest. Eat something if you are able.” Lucia’s tone was direct, but not harsh. “I will send Alistair to retrieve you when the preparations are complete.”
Liss nodded in response, and the other woman left the room, closing the door gently behind her. The room was similar in size to that which she stayed in at Denerim, though far less elaborately decorated. Muted, earthy tones covered the bed and chairs. A silver griffon perched upon a sea blue banner that hung from the far wall. The Wardens were no decorators, but it was charming nonetheless.
Vibrating with a feeling she couldn’t quite place—nervousness, excitement, some indescribable mix of the two— Liss tried making herself comfortable in each of the chairs in the room, only to stand up shortly after, body pressuring her to move. She opened and closed every drawer on the desk, examined the spines of the books on the shelf, tested out the mattress, and still she could not seem to ease her nerves. Just as she was about to follow Lucia’s recommendation, to set out in search of something to eat despite her stomach’s anxious protests, there was a knock at the door.
“Alistair,” she asked, swinging open the door, eyes widening and heat rushing to her face when she saw dark hair and blue eyes. “Nate.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” he said so dryly she could not tell if he was serious
“Not disappointing,” she blurted, unable to keep the words from tumbling out of her mouth. She was supposed to be cross with him, damn it. “Just unexpected. Lucia told me Alistair would come to get me for the... you know.”
“Right.” He frowned, and tensed as if it were painful to speak to her. That was new. “I believe that is still the plan. I just came to talk. That is, if you aren’t opposed.”
“Depends.” She smirked and crossed her arms. “Are you going to yell at me again? I was not fond of the yelling.”
“My voice will remain at an appropriate volume, my lady,” he assured her, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. She glared at him briefly, hoping to impress upon him that she was, in fact, still angry, and that her choice to allow him into her room did not mean that she had forgiven him.
“I am going to hold you to that, you know,” she answered, moving out of the way. It wasn’t until he entered that she noticed he held a small, parchment parcel tied together with string, an empty cup, and a carafe of a white liquid that appeared to be milk. Curiosity getting the better of her, she asked, “What’s that?”
“You need to eat something before the ritual,” Nate answered with a smile, but didn’t answer her question, continuing instead to the desk where he sat the items down, and busied himself with untying the string. Liss scowled and closed the door, rushing over to stand beside him.
“That’s what Lucia said. Why?”
“You’ll be starving when you wake up,” he explained, “But you won’t want to eat. Having something right before helps, and you should eat something that you like. It will never taste the same again.”
“And so you’ve brought me something I like?” She eyed him curiously, uncertain what exactly he hoped to accomplish.
“I think so,” Nate said with a shrug, opening up the parchment to reveal several, small yellow cookies with red centers. “I remember we used to sneak these from the kitchen when Nan wasn’t looking.”
Liss’ eyes welled up with unwelcome, ridiculous tears. “Shortbread cookies with raspberry jam?” They were her favorites, and she hadn’t had them in years.
“Yes, though I don’t know that they’ll compare to Nan’s.” He laughed again. “There also may be a cook downstairs who is very angry that her cookies are missing.”
“Just like old times, then.” Liss laughed and cried at the same time, sitting down in the desk chair, and pouring some milk into the glass. She took a cookie and then offered one up to Nate, who stood leaned against the wall, staring off at nothing.
“You should eat them all,” he answered, shaking his head, “I am serious when I say that you will be starving.”
“If I must.” She feigned annoyance, and began nibbling at the cookie in her hand, very aware that Nate still looked uncomfortable. After several minutes had passed, she could take it no longer. “I accept your peace offering. Now, would you please sit down?”
Liss pointed to a stool that sat just a few feet away and Nate obliged, inhaling deeply, and finally speaking as he sat. “I know I was an arse before.”
“Really,” Liss teased, mouth full of the second cookie, “Hadn’t noticed.”
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and wringing his hands. “I may have made some unfair assumptions about why you wished to become a Warden. It made me angry to think that you might throw your life away for the sake of some romanticized adventure. I should have known better, and I apologize.”
“I wish that’s why I was doing this,” she admitted, dusting crumbs from her hands, and turning to face him. “I’ve lost everything, Nate, including my sense of security in the world. I didn’t realize how lonely freedom was. I will gladly corrupt myself to never feel that way again.”
“You don’t have to feel that way,” he remarked abruptly, and flinched, no doubt regretting the words.
“Oh? I don’t.” She laughed sarcastically. “Well, that’s a relief! I’ll just stop feeling that way, then. I’ll just ignore the fact that my family is dead and the other people in my life are all moving on and have no use for me anymore.”
“That’s not true.” Nate clenched his fists but his voice remained calm, true to his word. “I’ll always be there for you.”
“You mean, like you’ve been there for me for the past nine years?” With that, Liss shoved the remaining cookies away, appetite lost entirely as anger burned in her blood. The only reason she had ever truly been angry with him, presenting itself at her feet, too large and potent to be buried under affection. She pushed out her chair and stood abruptly causing Nate to flinch.
He stood as well, pained expression consuming his face. “Liss, I-”
“No,” she shouted, “ You don’t just get to swoop in and tell me you’ll be there for me when you have done nothing but show me otherwise. You couldn’t even write me a bloody letter.”
She threw her arms up in exasperation, but Nathaniel remained still, jaw set. “I know I haven’t been there for you, but I am trying to be there for you now. I want to fix this.”
“All you had to do was write to me, Nate, just once.”
“It hurt too much, Liss.”
“You should have told me, then.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I would have understood. I’d have hated it, but I would have understood because Maker knows I was hurting, too.”
Shaking his head, he moved to stand more closely in front of her. “I was a foolish, stubborn boy who believed that if I ignored you long enough, you’d finally see me for the pathetic piece of shit I thought I was, and realize you were happier without me in your life.”
“Nate, you were my favorite person in the world,” she said, voice cracking, “The only thing you did was make me think that I was the worthless piece of shit. I truly believed that you were happy in Starkhaven, living it up without me and not even caring.”
“I tried,” Nate admitted, laughing humorlessly, “I tried so damn hard to convince myself that my feelings would go away if I told myself I didn’t feel them enough times. We see where that got me. It’s nine years later, I’m still hopelessly in love with you, and miserable because I keep messing up.”
Liss froze, blinking a few times to make sure she heard him properly, replaying his words over and over in her head until she was certain. He said it. The one thing she’d wanted to hear since she was eleven years old and writing about him in her journal. The thing she’d prayed for since she’d desperately confessed her feelings to him in a letter the year after he left. He loved her, and she should have been elated because it was about bloody time, was it not? She should have wanted to say that she loved him too because she certainly did, but anger was all she could manage in the moment.
“And you thought now would be the appropriate time to have this conversation? Right before a dangerous, life-altering ceremony?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you.”
“”I thought that it might be the last chance to have it,” he said dejectedly.
“The last —” she eyed him with complete disbelief — “Will you stop acting as if it is my funeral for Andraste’s sake? I’d ask you to have some faith in me, but I know that is a lost cause.”
He lifted his hand as if to reach for her but dropped it and sighed. “I have more faith in you than I’ve ever had in anyone.”
Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she turned away from him. “I can’t do this right now, Nate. I just can’t. I have to —”
There was a knock at the door. “Liss? It’s Alistair. It’s time.”
“ —go.” She held Nate’s gaze as she finished the thought, but then broke eye contact as she walked past him, opened the door, and walked out, closing it behind her without another word. She knew it was unfair, and immediately wanted to rush back inside and smooth things over, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
“Sooo,” Alistair said as they walked down the hall, “I noticed that you’re crying. Everything alright?”
“No,” she whimpered unattractively.
Alistair moved in front of her and stopped, blocking her path. He spread out his arms and tilted his head, an offer for a hug, which she happily accepted.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” He released her from the embrace and looked down at her.
“Mhmm.”
“Fine, but you have to promise me two things.” He held out two fingers for emphasis.
“What,” she asked, laughing.
“One. Don’t even think about dying. It isn’t allowed.”
“Understood.”
“Two. When you get done not dying, you have to get whatever that was —” he pointed back toward her room — “sorted out.”
Liss sighed. “I suppose I probably should.”
“Swear?” Alistair held out his pinky finger and she couldn’t help but be amused at this very large man intending to make her pinky promise.
Locking her pinky with his she smiled. “I swear.”
“Great,” he said turning and beginning to walk again, “Now that we’ve got one sacred oath out of the way… ready for another?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered, shaky voice betraying the apprehension in her gut.
When they arrived in the main hall, the room was filled with the other Wardens in Amaranthine as well as common soldiers who attended to bear witness. Lucia and the seneschal stood at the center near the fire pit, the seneschal holding a chalice in his hand. Before them stood two other recruits, both soldiers, and both trembling beneath their suits of armor. Alistair motioned for Liss to stand by the two men, and she did so.
Once she was in her place, those in the room began reciting some sort of oath, a chilling invocation performed in unison that Liss could have done without. As the room chanted, Liss searched it apprehensively for familiar faces. Lucia. Garavel. Alistair. The other Wardens whose names she couldn’t recall in all of the chaos. As the first recruit was called forward to drink from the chalice, Liss’ pulse jumped. She watched as he took a slight sip, closed her eyes as he began to choke, and pretended not to hear as he breathed his last breath.
When the second man was called forth, she began to search the crowd again, desperately looking for Nathaniel. She shouldn’t have expected him to be there, considering the way she had walked out on him just moments before. She hadn’t even told him she loved him too, and as the second recruit strangled and died right next to her, all that she could think about is how she might never get to.
Lucia called her name and told her to step forward, brows furrowed in a silent apology. Liss took the chalice in her hands, examining the dark liquid that she could already feel sliding it’s way down her throat before she even drank. Taking a steadying breath, she brought the rim to her lips, and as she looked up Nate was there, several feet behind Lucia. Worry knitted his brows, but he offered her a reassuring smile nonetheless. She nodded at him and drank.
For a brief instant, it burned like fire, trailing its way down her throat, then she became suddenly cold, as if her blood had frozen entirely. An overwhelming, sickening sense of dread washed over her, but she fought it, refusing to let it take her. She wasn’t choking. As her vision faded to black and she began to fall to the ground, the last thing she remembered she heard was Nathaniel’s voice calling her name and the warmth of his arms as he caught her. She was safe.
okay dont get me wrong i like yoghurt sometimes as a treat but it is day 3 of not being allowed to eat real food or my jaws gonna kill me and i am getting kinda annoyed
sometimes I think about all that I have to have done before December: finding a grown-up job, finishing my thesis research, writing my thesis, defending my thesis
and I seriously consider locking myself in my room with my cats and watching Lilo and Stitch on repeat
