My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Teagan ran his fingers around the edge of the parchment in his hand as he thought, "Except, Lady Amell now has an entire arling to her name."

  "Well..." Alistair paused in his cuts and glanced up at his uncle, "not really, it belongs to the wardens."

  "But she is a recognized Arlessa. Sire, how did you see the line of succession in Amaranthine working?"

  "I don't know. The wardens will figure something out. They're good at that thinking thing, Lanny in particular."

  "Except the chances of the Banns agreeing to that irregular arrangement might not be feasible."

  The king tossed his knife and the missives onto the desk and he turned in his chair to face the few people wandering around in the lofty study. "What are you driving at, Teagan?"

  In the sharpest of tone the man was capable of, he said, "She may need to marry to maintain her power."

  A groaning chuckle rattled in Alistair's throat, but it quickly grew into a hearty laugh until he clutched his sides. "Maker, that's hilarious. Great, great joke. You can't be serious. You're not serious. You want to tell Lanny she has to marry, be my guest. Hope you brought flameproof underpants."

  Teagan sighed letting Alistair get through his babble before speaking again. It was one of the reasons the king loved having him around. "It need not be a true marriage. It could be in name only, for the sake of appearances."

  "Yeah, I know all about those," Alistair sighed well aware of the court's machinations to get someone, anyone attached to him as fast as possible. It wasn't like he was going to die this second from the taint. "No, Lanny'd never go for it. I mean, who could you see her picking? That Bann who farts every time he stands. Or that other one that's always bringing a sack of potatoes to the Landsmeet. What is up with that anyway? I feel like I should know, but..."

  "I would do it," Teagan said, his voice soft. "I am already an Arl, there would not be a danger of unbalanced power. And, I believe Lady Amell does not despise me."

  "No, she bloody loves you. Says you're the only person at court she's happy to see," Alistair said, mentally adding 'including me.' "Teagan, you don't need to throw yourself onto a pile of rusty blades for Lanny. She can handle herself when it comes to nobles. Better than most of us."

  "I..." the subtlest of blushes rose up Teagan's cheeks and his eyes glanced down at the floor, "I would not consider it a sacrifice on my part."

  "Right, okay, everyone else out," Alistair shouted. At first the servants and others wandering through the great study only looked up. Then their king rose off his chair and clapped his hands, "I mean it, begone. Get! Whatever it is kings shout to dismiss people. We need to talk alone." Either it was the fire in his eyes or the fact he'd absently picked up his blade to twirl in his fingers, but now everyone shuffled out of the study. Alistair waited until the door clicked shut and a few more beats as hopefully the last of them slipped away to complain about him in the kitchen. He'd be eating saliva soup for dinner for certain.

  Teagan peered through the closed door, those crystal blue eyes watching to see if anyone would come to his rescue. How did Alistair hear them described once? Something about star filled pools or was it a waterfall? Water was involved. Whatever it was, there was a lot of fanning hands and fake fainting in response. Second to clinching the Queenship, a lot of women sniffed around the newest Arl and for good measure too. He was a good man, he could take a joke -- maybe not as quick to give one, but at least knew how to laugh. And he had that whole chivalry thing down to an art. Practically whipped out kerchiefs to drape over puddles in his sleep.

  Something dark stirred in Alistar's core as he stared through his sort-of uncle. "Give me your spiel," he said, trying to shake off the thoughts dragging out the primal section of his brain.

  "My what?" Teagan blinked facing his king.

  "You don't wander in here, catch me chopping up proposals, and off the cuff suddenly think 'Hey, I could get married' like you want to eat a sandwich. So, lay it out."

  "I," the Arl's cheeks lit up even brighter in a blush, for the first time looking off put. Even in a chantry with the threat of walking corpses coming to drag away the last of the terrified villagers, Teagan still maintained an air of composure. But here, the man appeared as if he wished to leap off the roof to get away. "Lady Amell..."

  "You can call her Lanny. I think she's said it a few dozen times, in fact."

  "She is a formidable woman."

  "Great opening line there. Hey, I think you're formidable, want to get married?" Alistair folded his arms across his chest, unable to stop from picking apart Teagan.

  Rather than sneer or growl, the Arl only waited, his fingers worrying apart one of the marriage requests. "This is a delicate proposal I know, but it would be for her benefit. The gentry are questioning Amaranthine, especially in light of the loss of the city. Some question the fact their Arlessa isn't tied to someone else. If her line were bonded to another accepted house then, I suspect, there will be less accusations against her."

  "What kind of accusations?" Alistair glowered. These were the first he'd heard.

  "The kind people make against mages," Teagan answered with, either unwilling to say anything like it against Lanny or terrified it'd make Alistair snap. Blood magic. It was always blood magic. The one card the damn chantry held over her. As a grey warden she was safe, they couldn't touch her, but as an Arlessa...

  Teagan continued with his speech, "She can handle herself, more than handle herself in most situations but I fear what could happen if enough turn against her."

  "It doesn't have to be you," Alistair said. "You've seemed immune to marriage's charms so far. Why give in now?"

  Biting into the side of his cheek, Teagan sighed, "I am aware of the precarious nature of this request given your past intentions with Lady Amell."

  Intentions, was that it now? How about calling it the truth, the fact Alistair loved her. Had been enthralled with her the first moment they met and couldn't shake it since no matter how hard he tried. He'd noticed the diligence Teagan paid to the other grey warden in Redcliffe, the way they gently bantered while waiting for corpses to walk in and break up the party, but at the time Alistair shoved it aside. Maybe he felt a wee bit defensive of his charming and suave uncle, and then later pulled her up to his lake to show it off, but after awhile he shook it off. He trusted Lanny, trusted Teagan too. And they did seem to get on as friends. Whether she ever bore any interest beyond that Alistair had no idea.

  "I cannot deny I have a great respect for her," Teagan said. His eyes slipped shut and he shook his head, "More than respect, it is..."

  "Okay, that's uh," Alistair bounced up on his heels. His skin crawled from the way Teagan spoke of Lanny, "that's enough awkward heart wringing now. You want to do things the old royal line way, I get it, but it won't work. Sorry."

  Teagan blinked rapidly and faced down the king, "What do you mean?"

  "Lanny's as sterile as I am. Maybe worse with her being the whole baby growing side. There wouldn't be any chance of little arls carrying on either line." Not that I'd ever want to even think of that happening. The idea of Lanny and Teagan being anywhere near each other to...the darkness clawed up Alistair's throat to grip onto his brain. He needed to stop this fast. "And you really think Eamon'd be happy to have two Arling's faced with a future of no successor? He'd practically crack the earth in two from learning it."

  "Oh," Teagan slipped backwards, "I did not realize that, or consider it."

  "You can ask Lanny her thoughts, but the baby thing it, well..." Alistair leaned closer to Teagan and whispered, "she doesn't take it too well." Maker, he was being a right ass to Teagan, to her, to everyone but his limping ego. And yet, he couldn't stop. He let her go, gave her up so she could find someone else, and the second that threat rose he bullrushed in to stop it.

  Teagan, either accepting Alistair's logic or - more likely - realizing the king wasn't about to back down, nodded his head a few more times. He apologized for wasting his time, and tried to slip out th
e door.

  "Hey, no hard feelings," Alistair shouted to his retreating uncle.

  Pausing at the door, for a moment Teagan gritted his teeth showing a strain, but it washed away and he nodded, "Of course not."

  Nine years later, tossed about on the deck of a pirate ship while they slopped through the waking sea, Alistair kicked himself for being such an imbecile. If he'd been half the man he thought he was and let Teagan at least approach Lanny, propose his idea to her, then the cursed chantry wouldn't have come after her. She'd have had something beyond her flaky wardens to keep her grounded, and Alistair... He pinched himself in the thigh as he stared at the black waves pounding against the ship. If Lanny'd married Teagan he never would have taken her to Seheron, never would have slept with her and opened up all those old wounds without a second thought.

  He wasn't going to let his jealous streak hurt her again, even if it meant having to put up with a pain in the ass.

  Chapter Five

  The Fade

  ?:?? ?

  The blade sliced off three of the front legs, the spider screaming as only they could in a high pitched chitter approaching a whine. Lana rolled her shoulder back and drove her staff deep through its thorax. Ichor bubbled out of the hole washing across its twitching hairs. The damn things never died easy and this was no exception as it skittered back and forth on its remaining legs, trying to spit poison in her face. But she kept her head thrown back, the spider's venom only dripping across her breastplate.

  As the death throes quieted down, Lana yanked her staff out, her foot knocking the spider off the blade. It wasn't the biggest she'd killed but it was a nice enough size for the day. Placing her staff against the ruined wall, she uncorked the pride demon bladder and dumped its contents across the spider's corpse. Acid, gathered out of pools scattered across the fade, hissed as it chewed apart the creature's hair. The scent was atrocious, like vinegar poured into an open wound, but she barely smelled it anymore.

  Watching the last of the acid drizzle away what hair it could, Lana closed up her homemade water skin and returned it to dangle with the others off her back. What remained of her robes hung in tatters off her shoulders, pieces scavenged out of the fade from the creatures she tore through or whatever was somehow left behind covering her now. The jet black breastplate, not metallic but made of something thicker than leather, she pried from a corpse found dangling upside down off a cliff. A red hand adorned the middle, but she could not recognize the symbol. More than likely whoever would have known it or used it was dead for ages past. At least the original owners weren't likely to stumble upon her anytime soon.

  With the spider's carcass as cleared of hair as she could manage, Lana dug her foot in the dirt clearing a circle around it. With a bit of a break, she drew forth from her mana and wrapped the spider in fire. Hotter than a typical hearth, the spider's chitin cracked and knotted up from the flames licking deep inside its guts. The legs curled deeper inward as she watched it cook.

  "Not a bad haul if I do say so myself."

  Lana sighed. She knew he'd be near but she hoped for a reprieve. "I expected better," she answered her eyes on the flames. If she didn't control her spell, the spider would char to ash and it would all be for naught.

  Jowan dropped down to a knee, his face practically intersecting with the flames as he prodded at the spider. She used to be bothered by him not reacting right to pain, but now it was little more than a nuisance. "Don't go blaming me, I found what I could. You chose to come here," Jowan gestured to the newest part of the fade.

  She'd walked for...Lana had no way of knowing. Distance was an illusion. A five day march could put her upside down from where she began. Remaining in one place didn't work either. Some mornings she'd wake to find the entire world itself had shifted, dragging her into crumbling ruins she'd never seen before. At the moment they stood upon the edge of a precipice with a waterfall that traveled upward. It was a bit unsettling if she stopped to think about it, but it did provide fresh water and easier bathing than the norma fetid ponds.

  The spider corpse cracked again from the heat, this time its innards popping in half. Lana shrugged away her flames and gently tapped the top of the curled in leg, one of the ones she didn't slice off. Not terribly warm to the touch, she gripped her hand around it and pulled. Chitin shattered at the mid-joint, the leg popping free into her palm. With her fingers, Lana dug into the spider's leg sloughing out the cooked meat inside. When she first began she pretended it was an oversized crab, the spider's meat surprisingly tender with a slight but not overpowering gamey and acidic flavor. Now she didn't care. Food was food.

  Moving onto the second leg, she glanced over at Jowan, "Where's the other one?"

  "Is it my job to keep track of all your little friends? You do put everything on me, don't you Lana?"

  She snorted at that but didn't rise to his bait. They flocked to her whether she liked it or not. Some were dangerous, but others were benign... She paused and glanced over at Jowan, a nuisance to be certain but benign enough. Unimpressed with watching her eat, he prodded his fingers together as if they shouldn't fit. Just like he used to do in the tower back in the real world, before he was hanged for trying to kill the Arl. She knew that as certain as she knew her name, but she couldn't stop thinking of him as Jowan.

  "How's the eye?" he asked suddenly.

  Lana paused in her dinner and gingerly touched the scar bisecting her right eye. It gored through her eyebrow then down the cheek. "Fine. Damn lucky I didn't lose it."

  "Scar's gonna be permanent though," Jowan called in his sing-song voice.

  "Right, because that's my biggest concern at the moment," Lana shook him off. He was always doing that.

  "Ugly and scarred, who's gonna want that?"

  "Nice try, spirit, but you're not getting anything from me without a price."

  That shut Jowan up, his arms locking around his midsection as he huffed away. Perched at the edge of the broken waterfall was a lone tree stuffed with apples. Why was an apple tree in the fade? Lana stopped asking long ago. Even if there was an answer it wouldn't make sense. Of course the damn things were poisonous - apples the size of her head and as inedible as the rocks. But when she climbed up the tree and peered off the branch she could look far around the fade. Pockets of varying architecture hung far in the distance. It wasn't so much land shifted by nature's hand but the domain of spirits or demons altered to suit the owners whims. The longer she was in here the harder it was to spot the difference between the two. Every spirit scrabbled for power within their own section of the fade to build up strength and warp it for their ideal. Any spirit who intersected with another erupted into conflict, not in the traditional sense but the land itself churning apart like someone picked up Ferelden and Antiva and smashed them together. It almost felt comforting to see the same noble dance played in the fade.

  Having finished with the legs, Lana unearthed her blade - though blade was generous. She'd whittled down the end of a hunk of obsidian, then wrapped it in what had once been her robe's trim for a handle. Jamming it deep into the spider's split thorax, Lana wrapped her fingers through the gap against the warm chitin and pulled. Internal organs gushed free, some useless, some edible, but what she really wanted was the sac just behind its lungs.

  "My lady," a new voice spoke from behind her. She didn't jump, she'd been expecting him too. Grabbing onto the venom sac, Lana weighed it in her hand.

  "Half empty, damn. I was hoping for more," she sighed. But half was better than none. Plopping onto the chin of Mafarath, the statue buried up to his neck in the dirt, Lana swung back around her pride demon bladder. It was the only thing she'd found that could hold onto the spider's venom without dissolving away. Uncorking it, she placed the venom sac over the top, then pushed it open to pop a small hole through. The venom dribbled down while Lana kept her fingers pulled far away.

  "Do you require assistance, Commander?" he continued to talk. Lana's shoulders slumped forward, but she turned to Nathanie
l anyway. She'd tried to get away from him, on more than a few occasions was damn certain she'd lost him in the fade, but somehow he kept popping back up.

  "I always require assistance, but there's little you can offer."

  This wasn't the Nathaniel she knew. Unlike Jowan who kept catching her at times with his almost human like movements, Nathaniel was little more than a tin solider. His hands seemed to be permanently frozen at his side, his shoulders thrown back at attention. All he could do was speak to her and be used as a human shield should the worst come to it.

  "We've almost got a full party going on here," Lana sighed, "We just need to find her."

  Jowan shuddered, those soppy eyes glaring at the ground, "I don't like her. She's not right."

  "You don't like anyone, Jowan. You don't even like me," Lana shook her head. Half of the spider's meat remained ready to be stripped and dried for later but what bit of energy left in her drained away. All she wanted was to curl up on the ground and sleep away what little of the day remained. Rather than fight it, Lana slumped to the ground, her breeches torn past the knee sliding against red dirt.

  "Does it bother you that I don't?" Jowan asked, unable to give it up. But that's what he was, he couldn't change it anymore than Lana could stop needing to eat or breathe.

  "What do you think?" she said, her eyes skirting around him towards the sky. There was always light, not from a sun or even a smattering of stars. The light hummed off every stone, every poisonous tree, every inch of the fade itself. Trying to escape it was impossible. She had no way of knowing what was day and what was night as there was none. It simply was, an unending amount of time existing. Lana missed the stars terribly. She'd find herself gazing upward hoping to spot a hint or two of the sparkle while she did everything she could to not look upon the city always looming within sight.