Chapter Text
9:31 DRAGON - Around Denerim
Ymlaïs awoke in tears and dripping with sweat. Her whole body was seized with tremors and she remained for several minutes under the shock of the terrible nightmare. Getting back to reality, she tried to calm down but felt nauseous and could not get rid of the filthy images in her mind.
She lit a candle to drive out the darkness and opened a wooden box. Inside was a dried red rose. She closed the box with a sudden gesture and took her head in her hands.
The horror of her nightmare could not leave her because it was true.
What she had seen was now her dearest dream. But it would never come true. Her blood was cursed. Their blood was cursed. Tainted forever. They would always attract the darkspawns to them and forever leave a trail of death in their wake. To save her life and the world, she had condemned herself to a perpetual violence that would never leave her in peace. She had no future. They had no future. No other destiny than to fight over and over until their blood turns them into monsters.
When she had joined the Grey Wardens, she had nothing in mind but to try to kill as many darkspawns as possible during the time that had been offered to her by the Joining. Then she found herself a new goal : to survive long enough to raise an army to fight the Archdemon and its horde.... And that was it.
And then he entered into his life, with his strength and his gentleness, his immense heart and his wits, his touching clumsiness, his humility and his hazel eyes. And with him had returned the sensation of a happy and normal life. He had flooded his daily life with tenderness in the midst of the fighting and she had begun to dream, to hope, that there would be an “after”.
When she had sought comfort from Wynne, whom she took for the wisest of the group, the answer of the mage had been like a stab. No, there would never be a normal life again; only duty and death. And then Wynne understood, of course, she had seen the looks, the hands that were secretly searching each other, their increasingly frequent isolation. Ymlaïs thought she would be pleased, but on the contrary, she had tried to warn her about the dangers and the impropriety of this relationship. It made her angry.
When Alistair felt down after her meeting with his sister, she said, confirmed that she cared about him, that she would always be there for him. But now.... It was hard to admit, but Wynne was right . She hated her for it, but she was right.
Her head hurt, she needed air, she went out.
Alone in the midst of darkness, away from the encampment, a blanket on her shoulders, she let the wind cleanse her heart that could not find peace.
She heard a noise behind her and quickly wiped her eyes. Someone came to her and said, "You can’t sleep either?" That was him. The image of the loving father and husband she had seen in dream came to mind. Yes, if it had been possible, it would surely have been like that. Yes, if it had been possible, she could surely have been the happiest women at his side. She shook her head in silence.
He sat beside her and for a moment, none of them spoke. Then it was he who broke the silence.
“Look, before we go any further I want to say something.
I appreciate that you brought me to see my sister and that you… well, that you were there to talk me down after we left.
You’re a true friend and I… Love you. I just… wanted to tell you that.”
I love you.
Like a caress in the heart.
I love you
Like a stab wound, too.
I love you.
She could feel his eyes on her. He was waiting for her to say something.
I can’t. I should tell you to go away, to leave me alone, that this was all a fleeting dream, but I can’t either. If I did, we would remain friends. It would be nice to always have you as a friend by my side. That would be wise.
“We’re in this together, Alistair."
At least she was convinced of that.
"That we are. I have your back, you know that, right ? »
She took his hand and carried it to her lips. She felt his fingers glide over her skin in a light caress and soon his forehead landed on her temple. She pressed his palm against her cheek.
It was too much to ask. She could not, she refused to imagine her life without that skin against hers, without those lips on hers, without those powerful arms to surround her.
But her mouth remained silent, like a part of her heart that closed and she did not utter the words that burned in her soul.
Soon the hand slipped away. He rose with a contained sigh, waited for a moment for her to speak and disappeared into the dark night.