There and Back Again Ch. 172

Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Two: *Travel Planning

Aedan took one look at the papers in my lap, growled something incomprehensible, and then punched his brother right in the face. The two men went down, fists flying, knocking into the desk and upending a pile of books and papers as they fell. A crash sounded as they knocked over the heavy chair.

After a brief, shocked moment, I jumped up off the couch where I sat, dropping the journal and letter onto the floor. I screamed, horrified by the sight of blood on the two men scrapping like feral dogs on the floor, and that got the other two men in the room moving at the same time. It took all three of us – me, Alistair, and Zev – to pry the brothers apart; in the end, Alistair held Fergus by the shoulders while Zev gripped Aedan from behind and I stood between the two, one hand on Aedan's chest and the other out in the universal 'stop' gesture towards Fergus.

"Aedan, what the fuck?" I didn't curse often, especially not words that I knew were used rarely in Ferelden, but couldn't think of any other way to articulate what I was feeling.

Aedan had the beginnings of what I knew would be an impressive shiner, and his shirt was torn; his knuckles were raw and bleeding. He scowled so hard at Fergus that I wouldn't have been surprised if his face got stuck like that. Fergus had gotten the worst of it – unsurprising, given his weak leg that Wynne and Anders hadn't ever completely been able to heal; blood trickled out of his nose and from a cut on his cheek, right next to the scar that pulled at the corner of his mouth. He didn't look like he was feeling the pain, however; his fists were clenched, and he strained against Alistair to get back into it with Aedan.

I pierced Aedan with my gaze, and he flushed, but I could tell he wasn't done yet; Zev obviously knew it too, as he readjusted his grip with a grim expression. "I mean it, Aedan. What was that about?"

"I told that bastard to leave it alone. He had no right—" He heaved in Zevran's grasp even as Fergus interrupted.

"You can't stop me from proving to you—"

"It doesn't matter!" Aedan's voice was a cry laced with an unimaginable amount of pain, and all of us stopped, staring at him in shock. He shrugged out of Zevran's hold, straightening up and readjusting his clothes. He wouldn't make eye contact with me, his gaze still glued to Fergus, his expression agonized.

"It doesn't matter. Why won't you understand? She didn't claim she was our sister. I said it, not her. She never used it for her own benefit. She helped us when she didn't have to. She put me back together when I fell apart. She risked her life for ours more times than I can count. She showed her loyalty and her compassion over, and over, and over, and she has nothing left to prove. She's my sister – by choice, Fergus. It doesn't matter if it's by blood. Why won't you see that? I know what you've been through in the last couple of years. I get it. But you don't get to take it out on her because you're angry with the world."

He held his arms out to me, and I stepped into them without thinking, holding my brother as he trembled, his breath hitching on suppressed sobs. He kissed my forehead, then turned back to Fergus. "She's not going. I can't stop you, but she doesn't have to go anywhere. I wanted us to all be a family – but you've been trying to force me to choose since you came back. Well, I've chosen. I choose Sierra. When you're old, lying on your deathbed, and you're alone with no one to hold your hand or listen to your final wishes, I hope you remember that you forced this, Fergus. You brought it on yourself."

Aedan kissed my forehead again, and then released me. He shoulders were slumped as though he carried the weight of the world on them, but he forced himself to stop, stand tall, and walk out of the room like he had no cares in the world. He paused at the doorway without looking back. "We will be leaving in the morning. Thanks for the hospitality." His tone was sarcastic, and even I flinched, though it wasn't aimed at me. "Goodbye, your Grace." And then he was gone.

I traded looks with Zevran, and the assassin slipped out silently to go after him. I was grateful, for the millionth time, for having that elf come into our lives.

When I turned, Alistair had released Fergus, standing between me and my liege lord with his arm out protectively towards me. Fergus wiped his face on his sleeve, righted his chair, and sat down holding his nose firmly to stop the bleeding.

"Well, that went well," Fergus muttered, and I almost laughed. Almost.

"What did he mean, when he talked about going somewhere?" Alistair's gaze on Fergus was far more hard than curious.

I walked over and picked up the journal and papers I'd dropped, placing them on the edge of the desk near where Alistair stood.

"His Grace found out what happened to me..." I gulped and continued, "to his and Aedan's sister. Bryce and Eleanor took her to some sort of...hospital, I think? On an island off the coast of Rivain. I'm assuming his Grace suggested we should all go there and find out what has become of her – and prove that I'm not her. And I'm guessing Aedan declined."

"Declined rather...vigourously, yes." Fergus winced as he probed the bridge of his nose carefully.

Alistair tensed, and I knew without asking that he was furious – as furious as Aedan had been. I walked up beside him, taking his outstretched arm and wrapping it around my shoulders, putting my own arms around his waist and squeezing till he relaxed. I was grateful for his silence – for letting me fight this battle on my own. I sighed. Not that there's much fighting to be done.

I turned to Fergus, meeting his inscrutable gaze. "When do we leave?"

*****

Finding Aedan proved to be harder than I expected; not only did I have no idea where his room was, but I couldn't be sure that's where he'd be. As angry as he'd been, he was equally likely to be in the sparring ring, or could even have left the castle entirely. I wouldn't have put it past him to go on a late-night ride outside of town just to blow off steam.

So Alistair and I wandered the castle, hand-in-hand, looking around a bit aimlessly, our guards following us silently. I was surprised that my husband hadn't said anything to me about our impending trip, but he didn't seem to question it – just agreed to be ready to meet Fergus on board a ship he had chartered in two days time. I assumed we'd have some more discussion about it once we were alone, though I wondered if he was just waiting to let Aedan be the one to object.

I wondered what our guards thought of the people they were protecting getting into the middle of a fist fight and then wandering around a strange castle late at night. If they had thoughts, they'd kept them to themselves – and I knew better than to ask.

We checked the sparring ring and popped down into the stables; Aedan hadn't been there, and both were freezing cold and somewhat eery in the middle of the night. Practically running back inside – I hadn't thought to bring my coat, and I was shivering in just my silk dress – we set off to find a servant to direct us to Aedan's rooms.

Unsurprisingly there were few servants to be found; after the excitement of the celebration, everyone had gone to bed exhausted. In the end we got directions from one of the guards standing watch at the main doors into the castle. It still took a while to find – and to talk our way into the family quarters when an enthusiastic guard tried to stop us – but the rooms Aedan shared with Zevran were empty. At least his things are still here – he hasn't up and left without waiting for daylight.

I was tired, and the temptation to go back to our room and sleep was difficult to resist, but I worried if Alistair and I went to sleep, Aedan would be gone before we woke up. So we persisted in our search, finally coming across the sensation of the taint as we wandered a random hallway on the main floor. I looked at Alistair, and he cocked his head as he seemed to be thinking about the buzzing feeling that indicated another Warden nearby – or, in this case, two.

"Library?" he finally ventured.

I thought about what I knew of the castle layout and agreed. "Library."

We veered in that direction to find Aedan pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, Zevran slumped too casually in an armchair watching him with an inscrutable expression. Aedan turned toward me when I walked through the door, and immediately pulled me into a tight bear hug. He was still stiff and trembling, though he seemed to settle a little with me nearby. I heard Alistair sink onto a couch behind me, and after a few minutes I cajoled Aedan into sitting as well.

"So clearly you and Fergus talked about this before we arrived?"

He rubbed his face with his hands and nodded. "I told him I would go – if he left you out of it. That I didn't care if you weren't the girl on that island, you were still my sister. He's so...angry, at me, at you...I don't even know why, really. I guess because we survived? We argued for hours, but in the end he agreed not to tell you. I told him that after you left for the Peak, I'd go to Llomerryn with him and we'd find that island."

I sighed. "And you weren't going to tell me? You didn't think I'd be even a little bit upset by that?" I held my hand up, my finger and thumb about an inch apart, and I knew I probably looked irritated as hell.

"No! I mean, Sierra, you have nothing to prove. There's no need for you to go. Nothing on that island will change who you are or how I feel about you. Just because Fergus has decided to be an...an asshat doesn't mean he gets to decide—"

"And you do, then? You decide? You're my owner, the one who gets to choose what I do or don't do, where I go and with whom?" I was the one pacing now, pissed off at his condescending attitude. Alistair winced at my tone, sharing a sympathetic look with my brother, and Aedan threw up his hands in a gesture of denial.

I sighed and sat across from my brother, taking his hands in mine. "Did it ever occur to you that I might want to know?" I looked down at our linked hands – our skin tones were identical, I noticed idly. "It doesn't change who I am to you – or who you are to me. You're my brother, no matter what. But Aedan...it might change who I am to myself. I want to know, for certain, if I was a Cousland. If what we think happened to me is the reality. I need to know who I am, you know? Never mind whether I should keep bothering to pursue a relationship with Fergus. I don't blame him for wanting to be sure – I do too."

Aedan scoffed. "He's just using it as another opportunity to hurt you. To push you away. He's trying to show you up as a fraud, to get you out of our lives. He's so full of hate right now – I wouldn't put it past him to petition Cailan to annul your marriage and take away Soldier's Peak."

It hurt to hear Aedan confirm it, but I wasn't surprised. For all Fergus pretended to treat me the same as any other vassal, that he hated me wasn't exactly news. But it didn't change anything.

"Then let's prove him wrong, shall we?" I finally caught Aedan's eye and smiled. "Besides, I'm not afraid of what Cailan will say. If he somehow does decide to take the Peak away from me...frankly, someone else can have that wonderful job. It's a pain in the ass anyway. I'd happily go back to being just the wife of a Grey Warden."

At that he did laugh, and so did Zevran. And I knew we'd be alright – eventually.

Alistair was still glowering, however. "And I'd just like to see anyone try to annul my marriage." He pulled me closer to him, and I reached up to kiss his chin softly.

"Never." We exchanged a meaningful look, where I got lost in his gorgeous hazel eyes, only looking away when Aedan cleared his throat.

"I'm going with him, Aedan. We're leaving the day after tomorrow. You don't have to come, but—"

"As if I'd let you go to a pirate lair without me."

I giggled. "Pirates have lairs now? And here I mostly thought they had ships. I thought lairs were like...a monster thing, not a pirate thing."

He grinned, and while it didn't reach his eyes, it did a lot to take away the haunted look he wore when we'd found him. "Zev? Pirate lair?"

"Oh, certainly, amore mio. Who could miss the chance to visit lovely, picturesque Llomerryn, no?"

"It's settled then. Fergus has a ship chartered to Ostwick leaving the day after tomorrow." I wasn't sure the time, and resolved to double check in the morning.

Aedan wasn't entirely pleased, I could tell – but I was thrilled to have him coming along.

"Hey, it'll be my first vacation that doesn't involve walking all over the ass-end of Ferelden. I'm excited, are you excited?" Even on Earth I'd never taken a real vacation; I'd never been more than a hundred kilometres from where I'd been born. In a strange way, I was sort of looking forward to it; the only boat I'd ever boarded, or even seen up close was the small passenger vessel we took from the Circle back to Redcliffe.

We settled down to chat for a few minutes, discussing logistics; we weren't certain that we'd have space on the ship for all ten of our guards, plus whatever retinue Fergus chose to bring. I would ask in the morning, but I knew if the answer was no, I would be in for another fight about going. Aedan will never agree to me going without bodyguards.

"Speaking of bodyguards..." I glanced at the door to the library, relieved to see it was shut – and made out of thick, solid wood. "Anyone seen Dera do anything interesting lately?" I'd hoped we would somehow catch her giving Fergus a report, or passing notes...something that would allow us to confront my liege lord about the spy he'd potentially planted in our midst.

"Nothing," Aedan replied, sounding disgruntled. "If she's Fergus' spy, she's much better at her job than I expected." Zevran nodded his agreement.

I sighed, irritated at not knowing whether she could be trusted. "Well...on that disappointing note, I'm going to bed."

Alistair and I bid Aedan goodnight and headed up towards our room. I was exhausted – it was late, and between the hour and the emotional turmoil of the very long day, I couldn't stop yawning. I caught Alistair giving me a wistful smile after about the third yawn.

"What?" I asked, somewhat embarrassed.

"Nothing." When I gave him a skeptical look, he relented. "It's just...I remember a time when you'd have fallen asleep on your feet before now, and I'd get to feel all manly, carrying you to our room."

I giggled. "You miss that? I'd think not having to look after a perpetual damsel in distress would have been a good thing."

He stopped and pulled me closer to drop a soft kiss on my lips. "I've never minded looking after you. Besides, I like pansies, remember?"

"I'd forgotten that." I grinned, remembering a time when I cowered every time the swords came out. "It feels like that was a really long time ago."

Alistair smirked at me. "Not so long, really." And with that, he scooped me up into his arms and jogged to our room even as I squirmed and insisted – quietly, so as not to attract any extra attention – that he put me down.

I would still never admit how much I enjoyed being cradled in his arms. I'd never live it down.

My sleep that night was plagued with strange dreams of creepy, comatose babies and being left behind at a mental institution by Fergus, as Alistair and Aedan were cut down trying to rescue me. When I woke – late, and feeling uncomfortably groggy – it was clear that Alistair had slept no better than I; he clung to me in his sleep, wrapped around me as though he could keep me safe through sheer presence alone. It was oddly comforting.

I spent the few minutes before Alistair woke feeling insecure and second-guessing my decision to travel to Lhanbyrde. On the one hand, I felt compelled to go. I wasn't lying to Aedan when I said I needed to know who I was. Am I really Elissa Cousland? Did I have parents who loved me enough to spend months trying to heal me? But on the other hand, there was every potential for things to get worse for me if it turned out I wasn't her. If I thought my relationship with Fergus was bad now, it would be a thousand times worse if Fergus had what he saw as confirmation that I was an imposter. I didn't even want to think about that possibility. And for all that Aedan said it wouldn't change anything...if he had a real sister, albeit comatose in some hospital somewhere, wouldn't it have to change how he saw me? Where I fit in his life? He couldn't promise me anything. And never mind the personal chaos I'd face being back to the beginning, not knowing who I was or where I came from.

What I felt, when I distilled it down, was a complete lack of control. It was like back at the beginning of the Blight when all I could do was predict terrible things to come, and hope someone would listen to me. Except this time I couldn't even predict it; all I could do was guess, and worry. It wasn't a sensation I enjoyed. Turns out I'm a control freak. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

The alternative, however, wasn't great. Especially now that I knew, there was no way I could live with knowing answers awaited on that little island and not seeking them out. And Fergus was going, whether I accompanied him or not. Better to seek the answers myself than have them thrown in my face later.

None of that stopped me from feeling like I'd jumped out of an airplane without a parachute, like the world was spinning too fast around me and I couldn't hold on anymore. I'd worked myself up into a good old panic attack, complete with the hyperventilation and chest pain, and I gasped as I panted, dizzy and nauseated.

That was how Alistair found me when he awoke – it could have been seconds or minutes later, I would never know. His arms around me anchored me, and his warm breath and husky, sleep-laden voice in my ear brought me back down to earth as he crooned words of love and safety that cut through my panic and lodged themselves in my heart. My bounding pulse slowed, my breath returning to normal as he held me to him and waited for me to come back to him.

When I finally stirred, my face was damp, covered in tear-tracks that I irritably wiped away with the fancy, silk sheet; I didn't even remember crying. Alistair still held me curled in his lap, and I rested my head against the solid bulk of his chest where I could hear his heart beating. I tilted my head up just as he looked down, and our lips met as though it was a plan, as though there was nothing else they could have been doing in that moment.

We both had morning breath and bed head; there was probably drool and tears on both of us, but neither of us cared. I kissed him like he'd been away from me for months, like I'd missed him with every beat of my heart, and he let me, tangling his tongue with mine and his fingers in my hair until I was breathless again for an altogether different reason. I scrambled up in his lap without breaking that precious contact until I was straddling his lap and could wrap my arms around his neck. And then we just kissed for an eternity, savouring each other.

"What do you want me to do, Sierra?" he growled when he finally broke away from my lips, lavishing nibbles and licks on my neck and earlobe. "Tell me. It's all up to you. Do you want me to lie back and hold still for you? I'll let you tease me as long as you want – I promise I won't move. Or you can ride me until you come again and again, and I swear I won't let go until you say. Tell me what you want. Anything, and I'll do it."

My eyes teared up again; I knew he knew me, was entirely aware of exactly what was bothering me, how my lack of control would affect me. He was offering me complete control of the one thing he could give me – himself. But I didn't need that; I'd never needed that. I just needed him, as raw and wanting as I was.