Chapter Text
Gwen could feel herself floating. Weighing nothing in the expanse as her eyes remained closed. She was so tired, so drained. What had happened for her to come here?
"Guinevere," a soft voice cooed, a gentle hand brushing her cheeks. The tingle from the light touch, the silken skin and warmth brushing against her skin pulled her from slumber, opening them to see Prue, hovering above her, smiling warmly at her.
"Prue?" she asked, feeling the warmth grow as Prue beamed, arms encircling her in a warm embrace.
"I am so proud of you," Prue sniffed, pure emotions running through her and seemed to encircle them both.
"Prue..." Gwen could feel the tears prick her eyes as she embraced the spirit. This entire ordeal – only now did she really feel a change. Her chest was lighter, her mind felt clearer and the constant strain pulling her down, it had somehow been severed when she banished the demoness. Was she really the reason for all these dark thoughts?
"No..." Prue's voice turned sombre but kept hold of her joy. "She only used your mindset to her advantage, trying to weaken your mind to make her capture easy. She fed the darkness, built up your thoughts of the past, but you... I knew you were stronger. And you broke free, banished her to where she can never reach you." The pure spirit lent forward, her soft lips pecking Gwen's forehead. In that moment, Gwen looked down, seeing just how closer the pair were becoming.
Prue could've been mistaken for her twin; her facial features were near identical to her eye shape and colour, her hair to her body shape. She remained draped in white but even her body seemed to fill out, creating a silhouette of the girl before her. Gwen's eyes turned down, knowing the end was coming sooner than either would want. Prue, sensing her fear and loss, cupped her cheeks again. One hand brought Gwen's hand to her chest just as she placed her own on Gwen's chest.
"I will always be here," she smiled, holding Gwen close. She didn't want the spirit to leave, nor become lost to the world that needed her. But Gwen embraced her, letting their bond strengthen.
Baldor paced back and forth before her tent. His anger having soothed since the day before. He wanted to break every bone and that frail wretch's body for what he did. Gwen had already exhausted herself. She had faced a demoness alone – who was apparently stalking her – and in the eve of her victory, the damned Maleficarum pulled what lyrium she had left to seal the breach. She had been unconscious for three days. Alistair assured him this was normal; the same having happened to a few templars after facing difficult Maleficarum or overusing their lyrium reserves in training. But there was no telling what was happening to her, especially when Cameron had noted seeing her in the Fade as he slept, the wild witch admitting the same in her own. Wynne assured him she seemed fine and didn’t appear distressed, but Stone’s damn it he didn’t understand half the stuff they were explaining and all it did was make his head hurt and his worry to grow.
“She will be fine, Dwarf,” and now his annoyance peaked as Sten approached.
“That’s rich comin’ from you, Qunari,” he hissed, refusing to look at the larger man.
“Actions are worth more, and she has proven that,” Sten snipped, his eyes trailing to the tent. “You are not the only one to care for Kadan.”
“Don’t call her that,” Baldor hissed, his hard glare burning into Sten’s face. “She ain’t your ‘Kadan’ or whatever the spit it means. She’s… she’s my Partha, my peace. My soon to be wife. And I won’t let you take her from me,” his tone dropped, his growl and glare intense on the Qunari who remained unperturbed.
“Kadan means my heart, Dwarf,” Sten returned his own glare, not as intense as Baldor but one of warning. “Only those close to us receive such; Friends, comrades, lovers. These are all we wish to keep close, and she has proven herself worthy.” Sten turned, looking to her tent as she slept. “She has been kind to me, she found my Asala and a true companion. But she too is lost, she seeks purpose, purpose the Qun can provide,” he raised a hand, sensing Baldor’s argument and anger, “If she chooses. I am not meant to recruit nor force any to the qun, if she wished to return she may, but I will not force her.”
Baldor stood, full intent clear to the Qunari warrior only for both to pause as the tent flap moved. Gwen stepped through, hugging a blanket to herself as the biting wind sent shivers down her spine. Looking up, she smiled as Baldor approached and Sten standing close by. He offered his own small smile before walking off. Baldor, pulling her blanket closer around her, took her hand with a smile.
“Ya had us worried… had me worried there for a bit, love,” he smiled, growing more as the words rolled out. “Love. Still getting used to that.”
“Same,” she smiled, a blush dusting her cheeks. Taking in the sight of the courtyard, she could take a deep breath without the pressure of the fade pressing down on her. Whatever happened, it drove everything away. The crisp mountain chill refreshed her despite the cold. “What happened after I blacked out?”
“That damned Malefi-whatsit drained you of lyrium to seal the tear in the Fade,” Baldor pointed out Alistair in quiet discussion with Cameron and Jocelyn. “Alistair didn’t like the idea of letting him leave, nor I but the others convinced him to spare the mage. Deserves his head cleaved for what he did, but I can see him better put to work to atone,” Baldor huffed, clearly not happy with the decision.
“He… he doesn’t know what I can do, does he?” she asked, looking concerned and fretful of the idea Avernus was aware of her ability to purify the taint – albeit to her own detriment – thankfully Baldor shook his head.
“Not a word, no way I’m allowing that,” he kissed her hand, rubbing her cold palms between his hands. “None of that now, come to the fire. I’ll get ya food.”
Smiling, Gwen allowed the Dwarf to guide her to the fire, a bubbling pot rumbled over the flames as Leliana tended to the meal. Wynne was nearby, tending to another young man while Levi stood beside her. Shale seemed off in her own thoughts, showing little care to the small birds she managed to ‘deal’ with.
“Ah, the lady awakens,” Zevran smiled, sheathing the dagger he was fiddling with as Gwen sat down. “Did your strapping Prince give you a kiss?”
“Be off assassin!” Baldor hissed, but did little else to drive the elf off, opting to address Leliana for the food.
“Still glad you have awoken,” Zevran smirked, patting her shoulder as he took his leave. Gwen smiled, hugging the blanket closer and warming by the fire. Looking around the camp, she spied a forge off to the side of the courtyard, an older man was working hard as sparks flew with each smack of his hammer. The sparks and heated steel pulled a memory, one she had almost forgotten while they travelled up the mountain. Just before they scaled the mountain, she had seen a shooting star – completely surprised by it falling close to camp. Upon investigation, she was shocked to find a meteorite. Large enough for her to pick up, but she had no idea if anything could be used or if it would be useful. And yet it had a power to it – something that drew her.
She rose from the fire, keeping her blanket closely wrapped around her as she sort out her pack. She wasn’t sure if Baldor or Leliana had seen her move, but she fetched her prize before heading to the smithy.
He wasn’t much older than Levi, but clearly older. Skin tanned and dirtied from working the forge for a long time, his large hands calloused from hard work and steaming metal. Quenching his current work in a trough of water, the man looked up. His hair was darker, but he clearly had the Dryden features. Wiping his hands, brushing hair from his eyes, he briefly bowed to her.
“Greetings, My lady,” he huffed, “Glad to see you’re up and about, the dwarf was really worried about you,” Gwen smiled, turning back to watch Baldor help Leliana cook.
“Yeah… it’s endearing, but who wouldn’t worry about their spouse,” she smiled, turning back to the blacksmith.
“He’s a good man, you’re a lucky woman,” he nodded, “Name’s Mikhael, what can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you could help me with this,” producing the ore, she watched as Mikhael’s eyes lit up. “I found it in a crater. I know it’s a meteorite ore, but I wasn’t sure…”
“What? My lady this is star metal, this is a rare find. Rarer than even dragonbone…” his mind seemed to turn, thoughts whirling around like a hurricane before he looked back to her, “If you give me this, I will craft you a thing of legend.” His enthusiasm caught her off, completely forgetting he had corrected her regarding the ore. She wondered what kind of weapon could come from the metal.
“Lass, what are you doing?” Baldor rushed over, worry etched on his face. “Come back to the fire.”
“I will, but…” Baldor turned, eyeing the ore Gwen had given to Mikhael.
“By the stone, never thought I’d see something like this,” asking for the stone from the blacksmith, he was hesitant to oblige but relented. Gwen watched as Baldor rolled the stone ore in his hands, pressing in different places, knocking his knuckles against it, lifting it to his ear and even bringing it close against his eye. “Very little impurities, kinda wish ya told me you found something like this.”
“Honestly, I didn’t know what to do with it, and we had to help Levi so… it slipped my mind. But if Master Mikhael could make something from it… what would you have made?” she blushed, the thought having taken her tongue before she could stop it. She honestly had no idea what could be made from the ore, and she knew Baldor was always a frontliner for the wardens. She wanted to help him as much as the others. More so now given their closeness. Baldor pondered the offer, taking little time in forming his request.
“Strike the ore here,” he pointed to a feint line to Mikhael, who took incredible note as the ore was returned. “Forge two daggers with the halves, fashion them to suit my wife,” Gwen froze, turning back to Baldor. The dwarf stood firm, his own cheeky smirk returning. “Tis tradition, for a groom to gift his bride a weapon. And you found the ore, you should have it.” He took her hands, holding them close to him. Gwen smiled, moved by the gesture, lent down to kiss the dwarf. Baldor eagerly returned the kiss, pulling back to pull her away from the smithy.
“Hold a moment,” Mikhael called, paused their retreat as he gathered a few things. On return, his took her hands and made a few measurements. He noted her hands, how wide her fingers splayed and clenched into fists. He noted which was her dominant and how her arms twisted and angled. “I should have these done in time for your departure, thank you again for the opportunity.” Turning away, Mikhael began his work, feeding the flame of his forge. Baldor chuckled, his grip returning to her hands as he pulled her back to the fire.
“Well, it’s clear to see whom proposed to who,” Leliana giggled, offering a bowl to Gwen. Baldor rolled his eyes, unabashed as he pecked her cheek and readjusted her blanket.
“I’ll fetch another,” he cooed, walking away from them. Gwen could feel her cheeks brighten again, holding her soup closer and letting the warm steam dance over her cheeks – hopefully to mask her blush.
“I am happy for you both,” Wynne approached, having witnessed the exchange. Accepting her own bowl, she sat beside Gwen. “You two have become quite close since our journey through Orzammar,” Gwen nodded, stirring her spoon through the soup.
“It almost doesn’t seem real,” she admitted, staring at the cooling broth. “Back home, boys and men never seemed to show an interest in me, nor did I really go seeking it out… and I’m always left wondering.”
“Wondering what, exactly?” Wynne asked, not wanting to pry the girl but she could see something was there.
“He’s… a Grey Warden. Can Grey Wardens even get married? Have relationships? And I don’t want to burden him, when we fight I don’t want to be the reason he loses focus and…” she left the comment hanging, not daring to entertain the dark thought. Not after everything that’s happened. “It’s selfish of me to just hope he would give it all up, but I don’t want that.”
“Then you are clearly more mature than some in this camp,” Wynne nodded, her gaze guiding Gwen to Alistair and Jocelyn. They had attempted to conceal a small rendezvous by the stone wall but failed as they could be seen from the fire. Alistair produced a red rose, Jocelyn blushing madly as she took the flower and they exchanged looks. Gwen smiled as they both lent in close, sharing a secret kiss. “I had spoken to them both, warning that their responsibilities may well pull them apart, that ultimately Love could be a selfish thing. But what can one say to youthful ignorance and budding love. They both seem inexperienced.”
“That’s true, but even then they’re both Grey Wardens and work well as a pair,” Gwen nodded, smiling as they seemed to press more into their kiss, turning away to offer the illusion of privacy. “And I doubt the Arl’s plan to put Alistair on the throne will be necessary,” Wynne quirked a brow, looking to the girl. “Oh, Cailan told me before we left Redcliffe, he didn’t want to burden his half-brother.” As Gwen looked up, she was confused by the look Wynne was giving her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just curious of your own thoughts on our King,” Wynne mused, “I do recall all those months ago, you would walk and converse with the King as if you had known each other for years. And all our interactions in Redcliffe, the King was not far behind.” Gwen coughed, choking on her soup as she drank deep, eyes wide as she stared at Wynne. “You never thought…”
“No, N-no never,” Gwen wiped her lips, her mind whirling from the insinuation. “I feel like an anime protagonist,” she uttered under her breath, noticing Wynne’s perplexed tilt of her head. “I-I once read a book, about a girl from another time, and no matter where she went in the story, multiple men fell in love with her… I found it all cliché and a bit in bad taste, but now I feel like its happening to me.”
“That is certainly a strange story,” Wynne mused, but she could see the confusion and slight worry in the woman.
“I mean… Cailan was always nice to me in camp, and he always seemed bored or sad so talking to him kinda helped us both. And he’s the King! How could I not have helped him all through that? It was the right thing to do… right?” She looked to Wynne, hoping for aid. “And I know Baldor is already stiff with Sten, thinking he had some feelings for me…”
“Really? How?” Leliana perked, sitting on her other side. Gwen’s eyes widened, only now realising the entire time Leliana had been listening to them. “Oh, please don’t stop, this is most interesting.”
“And entertaining,” Zevran cooed, coming up behind her. Gwen felt like she was in a furnace, burning from embarrassment.
“Oh, enough you two,” Wynne scolded, but was waved off by Zevran and pouted at by Leliana.
“How can you not be interested? A woman, lost and from a far away land, is graced with the sight of every man she passes. Locked in the throws of war and peace, whirlwind romances and scandalous rendezvous with barbarians and kings. It sounds like the perfect ballad,” Leliana swooned, seeing the fictional romance and intrigue in the entire ordeal.
“Not to mention all the choice and variety any young woman could ask for,” Zevran cooed, leaning close to Gwen with his arms wrapping her shoulders. “A thought-dead King, a banished Prince, a gruff barbarian, and who knows where else the story might go. Perhaps a striking assassin, or even a Pirate Queen to spice up the mix~” Gwen had never wanted to die more than in this moment. The earth would’ve been merciful if it had swallowed her whole right now.
“Stop,” she moaned, unsure of what else to say. She made a mental note to approach Cailan regarding this once they get back to Redcliffe. “Can we… change the subject please?”
“Off with ya,” Baldor’s voice sounded like a blessing as he pinched Leliana and flicked Zevran’s ear. Both flinched and moved, but their amused smirks remained as he took his seat beside Gwen. “Besides, I’m all the spice my lass needs.” And like that, her blessing was ripped away as she moaned into his shoulder, feeling more pathetic. He had heard them too. Baldor only chuckled, arm wrapping around her waist as the others came to join them. Gwen couldn’t keep her composure as she watched Sten approach, feeling her embarrassment growing more.
“I…feel like we missed something,” Alistair looked around, Jocelyn mimicked his concern as she looked between the others and Gwen.
“Don’t ask… please don’t,” Gwen moaned pathetically, turning into Baldor’s shoulder. He waved them off, ensuring it wasn’t anything to be too concerned about.
“Ah, just the pretty one and the elf were pointing out how Tatts has caught a lot of eyes,” Oghren suddenly chimed in, surprising all of them as he piped up. “What? I do listen sometimes. Not my fault you all don’t pay attention.”
“That alone concerns me,” Morrigan mused, Cameron nodding beside her.
Slowly, the conversations turned away from the embarrassment currently on Gwen and filled the rest of the day. Gwen was pleased for it, pulling the fur Baldor had given to her closer to her blanket. She was still recovering from the lyrium drain and was refrained from doing anything too strenuous. She opted to watch Baldor and Oghren sparring, Alistair and Jocelyn using the training dummies. Barghest and Sirius were exploring the grounds; the older of the pair trying to tame the youngster but failed as Barghest nipped and begged Sirius to play with him. Leliana busied herself with gathering herbs and supplies with Wynne as she made poultices. Zevran took to the walls, meandering around the castle grounds.
Gwen spotted Cameron conversing with a crow, no doubt Morrigan having shifted into that form. She was glad everyone was doing better and were well.
“Something bothers you, Kadan,” Sten approached, pulling her from her thoughts. He took a seat, whetstone in hands as he tended to Asala. Gwen watched, noting how he wet the stone before gliding its surface over the great sword, testing the sharpness as he did.
“Just some comments during lunch, has made me think on a few things,” she admitted.
“Clearly they bother you,” he added, not so much a quip as it would usually be. A tone he used with Zevran and Oghren when they tried to interact with the stoic Qunari.
“Just… I need to ask you this, and please be as honest as you can,” her request brought a pause to the Barasaad, turning to his companion as she hugged her warmth closer. “Do you… have romantic feelings for me?” She didn’t dare look up to him. “It’s not… something Wynne pointed out, its brought up concerns as I… just want to be sure of where we stand.”
“Do you feel attraction towards me?” he asked simply, managing to turn her gaze to him.
“No. I see you as a companion, as my friend,” she replied honestly. She watched as the Qunari thought his words out before speaking.
“I too see you as a companion, an ally… a friend,” he nodded. “This foreign tongue is hard to convey the meaning of Kadan. Yes it can be used for lovers, but it simply means you are close to my heart,” he explained. “It is a title you can use for me too. But should this only cause more confusion, I will not speak it again.”
“No no, I’m fine with that. Now that I understand the feeling behind the meaning…Kadan,” she tested the word. She had been learning and practising the few Qunari terms Sten had been comfortable teaching her, and this one really did feel like there was weight behind the word. Sten, in their small moment, offered a larger smile than normal, clapping her shoulder before returning to his work. It made her feel much better.
Alistair had been antsy most of the morning. They had taken an extra day to ensure they had everything they needed for the long trip back to Denerim. If his calculations were accurate, they would need to make solid progress to even get back before the landsmeet, and even then they would only be making it by a day. That wouldn't be enough time.
"Everything okay?" the sudden voice caught him off, turning to find Gwen standing beside him. She was back in her armour, colour back in her cheeks after the ordeal dealt with in the Peak. He was glad. He knew the drawbacks of Lyrium far too well and it worried him more since she had Lyrium in her literal skin.
"Yeah, yeah, why do you ask?" Gwen returned a deadpanned look, one brow quirked up. "Didn't work, did it?"
"Nope," she shook her head, pulling a sigh from the senior warden.
"Just trying to plot out our path back to Denerim to give us enough time to meet with Arl Emon. This Landsmeet is too crucial to leave to the last minute," he sighed, brushing a hand through his hair.
"Are you worried by what Arl Eamon will do?" she asked, looking over the stressed man. He sighed, taking a calming breath before smiling.
"It's just... I've been thinking how different all of this would've been if Cailan hadn’t been saved,” Alistair’s gaze turned to the sky, staring off and reminiscing. Gwen watched on, pondering the same question. But she only smiled, shaking her head.
“Well,” she smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder, “A wise man once said ‘Don't waste time thinking about what could have been when you could be thinking about what could be.’,” she nodded, turning to the others. Following, both Alistair and Gwen picked out their paramours; Jocelyn and Baldor seemed to be conversing while the last of the supplies was gathered and packed. Both the senior warden and outsider shared a love struck smile, Gwen catching him before he could catch her. “I can’t see you in a stuffy palace, if it means anything. Even with Jocelyn beside you and ruling with you, I think you’re both even better Wardens than Royals.” Taking in her words, Alistair begins to smile more but processing her words, his head snapped to her flushing bright red. Gwen couldn’t hold back her laughter, almost doubling over from the cackle. “Oh don’t look at me like that! I saw you give her the rose,” she teased, gaining only teasing pokes from Alistair, sharing in her laughter.
Calming as they shared a smile, Alistair couldn’t help but feel like Gwen had become... more like the sister he wanted. More of a sister than Goldana had been. Ever since they had gone to Denerim to find Genetivi, he couldn’t stop his want to find his long-lost sister and finally feel like he had a family - ever since his nightmare realm in the tower bore out these old repressed feelings. Meeting and interacting with Cailan back in Redcliffe, both before and after revealing his identity, didn’t clear the feeling of distance between them. His half brother was kind and considerate, but Goldana and he shared a mother, surely she would’ve accepted him. But when she showed her true colours; shattered the picturesque idea he had of her to an annoyed, tired and worn woman trying to scrap by. She had rowdy and sickly children, worked harder than most soldiers to provide for them and wanted nothing more than his gold. He was just a means to eliviate her burdens, despite his only crime against her was being born – something he couldn’t help. But Gwen, she was different. She didn’t judge him nor change how she was around him, she had been kind and always an ear to listen to or a hand to aid with. She didn’t care where he was from or how he had gotten there, she just cared for him and the others, in the moment.
“Thank you,” he caught himself saying, facing the choice and gladly following it. Patting her shoulder but as his hand rested, a sense of mourning washed over him as he looked back. “But… I wish we had the means of helping you too.” His words struck harder than she had thought, slacking against his grip, turning away slightly. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean…” Alistair sighed, a feeling of shame washing over him. “You know I…”
“Hey hey, it’s okay,” Gwen smiled, trying to lift the mood again. “I know, you guys have done so much for me… so much,” her words turned her toward Baldor, the gruff dwarf finishing the last of the packing – their shared tent pulled down and packed away – before the feeling of her gaze turned his attention. He shot her a warm smirk, saddling his pack over his shoulders and approached the Keep entrance. "You know, if you had said that all those months ago... I think I would've crumbled and fallen back into a... very dark place. That demon might've even taken me,” her omission startled Alistair; not from admitting her previous traumas as she had been plain after the incidents in the Mage Tower and the Keep, it was from how... blatant and finite her resolve to an undesirable outcome. His own ‘what if’ scenario seemed bleak but even he didn’t think it would lead to death or worse, possession. “I am... so so thankful... for all of you,” watching as she wiped a tear from her cheek, preventing the drop of salt to harden against her already flushed cheeks.
Compelled, Alistair pulled Gwen into a tight hug, startling the girl. Nothing else needed to be said between them. He knew. And he also knew that this was the best means of proving, let alone showing, Gwen his care for her. Smiling against his chestplate, she wrapped her arms around him and returned the embrace. Sharing the sweet and building moment. As they parted, stronger friends for it, a gruff shout caught them off.
“COME ON!!” Ogrhen’s called, “LET’S MOVE BEFORE OUR NIPS FALL OFF! Don’t want to become a dwafcicle.” Gwen giggled, imagining the shorter dwarf as a snowman. Jocelyn approached, smiling at both before catching Alistair’s hand, leaving Gwen to join the group beside Baldor.
“Everything okay?” she asked, looking between the pair but she could only hitch a gasp, catching herself as Alistair easily picked her up in a spin, sealing his lips over her own. He had been so bashful and timid in the many interactions they had at camp. Growing bolder the longer they pursued this romance. But this had been unlike him.
“Yeah, just gained a little perspective,” he nodded, placing the dizzying woman back on her feet. “And... I’m going to tell Eamon, even if it’s the only way... I don’t want to be King.”
“But, Alistair,” Jocelyn paused again, another chaste kiss chased her words out of her throat.
“I know, I can still play the part but...” he sighed, calming himself. “I’m no king, Cailan is more a king than me... and I want to be with you, live the life of a warden with you. Even if it’s short...I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jocelyn, stunned in silence, looked over this man. He had become so much... bolder from when they met in the months leading to the attack. They had fought alongside one another, he had taught her the ways of a templar to aid in her own combat, even the secret rendezvous they took away from the camp. The nights they spent together. His words bled through and warmed her heart, freezing his words as she pressed into him, holding him.
“I... feel the same,” she cooed, sighing as his arms enveloped her. “No matter our time left, I want to spend it with you.”
“COME ON!!!” Ogrhen’s call broke the moment again, saved but the indignant ‘ouch’ that followed. Hand in hand, eyes locked together, the warden pair approached the group. It was going to be a long trip to Denerim.