Chapter Text
Everything at Ostagar had gone according to plan. Thanks to Alexia’s input, Duncan had managed to mitigate the worst effects of Loghain’s betrayal, and both King Cailan and the majority of the Grey Wardens had survived the battle. Loghain had no cause to step in as regent, and his political influence was heavily blunted by the loss of Cailan’s implicit trust. She had no idea exactly how Duncan had persuaded the king to be wary of his chief general, but she suspect that Cailan’s hero-worship of the Grey Wardens had been instrumental.
With a full complement of Grey Wardens receiving support from the army, Ostagar had been a decisive military victory as well. While the darkspawn horde had taken heavy losses, the Blight was by no means over. There was still an archdemon out there somewhere, and all of Alexia’s foreknowledge wouldn’t do them a bit of good if they couldn’t find it.
Which was how Alexia had come to find herself in the unfamiliar setting of a full Grey Warden camp on the move. Duncan had organized the bulk of the uninjured Wardens from Ostagar and set off after the remnants of the darkspawn horde, hoping their trail would eventually lead the Wardens to the archdemon.
All in all, it wasn’t a bad position to be in. The Joining had been much less stressful the second time around, and Ostagar was an entirely different experience at the side of the Warden-Commander, providing him with intelligence, rather than fighting her way through a tower over-run by darkspawn with minimal support. The Warden camp had the easy familiarity that Alexia had always seen and envied among her father’s soldiers, and this time she wasn’t excluded from the camaraderie by her rank. It would have been a thoroughly enjoyable experience except for one thing: Alistair.
While she would never admit it outside of her own head, she’d volunteered to become a Grey Warden almost entirely to be with him, and it felt like the chance was slipping through her fingers.
She’d gone out of her way to spend time with him, changing patrol schedules and swapping watches to make sure they were on break together. She couldn’t keep track of the number of Wardens she currently owed favors. It was worth it, because he was everything she remembered. Whatever the source of her strange memories, they were as accurate about him as they had been about everything else. His laugh was heart-breakingly familiar, and there were times it took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to kiss him when he looked at her with that half-grin.
But she knew that would be a mistake, so she resisted, even when it hurt so much she could scarcely breathe.
Because, while he had been friendly – sharing jokes and making sure the new recruit felt welcome – there was no especial closeness between them. Alistair treated her with the same warmth and sense of brotherhood that he extended to all of the Wardens. And if he occasionally stumbled over his words or blushed when she smiled at him, it was hard to think that it meant anything. That was how he reacted to attention from any pretty girl.
Alexia was starting to seriously question whether the connection she remembered had only been a product of their shared tragedy and loss. Maybe that sense of grief was all that had brought them together in the first place, and now that she wasn’t an orphan and he had the rest of his order, they didn’t really need each other.
Except that she remembered a world where he had meant everything to her. Where she had fallen asleep listening to his heartbeat every night. Where she had challenged and killed the Hero of River Dane to keep him safe. Where they had held each other through nightmares and celebrated shared triumphs. So even if she’d changed things so that he had no reason to turn to her, she couldn’t escape how desperately she needed him, and keeping it concealed was gradually driving her out of her mind.
Which was why tonight she had traded shifts and swapped chores not for time with Alistair but for a skin of strong cider and an evening to spend alone in her tent brooding and drinking until she either forgot the past or remembered it clearly enough to eclipse the present.