Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Six: *Intervention
The day passed in a blur; I did some more paperwork, and arranged with Seneschal Varel for my letters to be sent by messenger -- to Denerim with some of his, then on to their destinations from there. I found my armour, and scavenged the armoury for replacement daggers, since mine hadn't been returned to me after I'd left them in a blood-soaked field. I visited Faren again, reluctant but dutiful; his condition was unchanged. I spoke briefly with Anders, who was in the library surrounded by books on healing and poisons -- I wouldn't have guessed such things could be found at the Vigil's library. The healer assured me he was making progress, and felt confident that Faren wouldn't die. More than that he wouldn't guarantee, but I was grateful never-the-less. I excused myself and escaped before he was able to start questioning me.
I avoided my brother, my husband, Nate, Zevran, the other Wardens, and anyone else who knew me well. I knew I was hurting people just by acting so strangely, and I couldn't even explain why. My head was a complete mystery, even to me -- sure, I was upset, but why was I so angry? I did talk very briefly to Sigrun, who was slightly disappointed at being left behind, but had taken it as her duty to take care of Faren while we were gone. She was moving his arms and legs several times each day to keep him from stiffening up, and had taken over coaxing the thin gruel Anders recommended down his throat; I imagined some servant was quite relieved, as it was a horrible job. Too much and he'd choke, too little and he wouldn't swallow...it took forever, but she seemed determined to personally ensure he remained as strong as possible despite being unconscious.
She didn't try to engage me in any...awkward conversation, for which I was grateful.
I finally found myself back on the ramparts at supper, again eating food I'd pilfered from the kitchen. From where I sat, I could see only the walls of the keep, a few blank windows, and the sky; it was peaceful, and I was drowsy after only a few minutes. I'd have fallen asleep there again, except that I was disturbed after a bit by Nathaniel.
He made small talk to which I barely responded, only grunting or nodding once in a while when it would have been unbearably rude to ignore him. I wanted him to leave, and hoped he'd get the hint from my reticence, but he blathered on for a while, apparently oblivious. It occurred to me that it was completely out of character for the nobleman; while not quite as taciturn as, say, Loghain, he was usually far from forthcoming.
The reason became obvious when he finally cleared his throat awkwardly and then sat beside me, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
"I know what you're going through, you know," he said softly.
I scowled and remained silent.
"In fact, I might be the only person here who really gets it. I'm not sure
you
know, though."
"Oh really?" I turned to him scornfully. "You know me so well, do you, that you understand me better than I do?"
He nodded calmly, unflappable, leaning back to examine the darkening sky. "When Kallian helped me recover from my torture, and then I made up my mind to..." he stumbled slightly over the words before clearing his throat and starting again, "...kill her... Even though I was rescued, I was so, so angry. No longer could I convince myself I was a good person. I couldn't live in denial anymore. I'd been tested, and I'd failed.
"And you'd think I'd have been angry at my father, who put me in the situation, but I was far angrier at myself, at Kallian...even at Aedan, for not rescuing me a day sooner. If he'd been just one day sooner, I wouldn't have been tested. I could have slept at night, still believing I was a good man, that if it ever came down to it, I wouldn't hurt someone who'd done nothing wrong. I was furious! I wanted someone to blame me, to see the monster inside me and call me out for it. I'd have gone willingly to Fort Drakon. But Aedan made excuses for me, you welcomed me...even Kallian. She thanked me! Thanked me for almost killing her. And all of it just made me more outraged. I picked a fight with one of the soldiers in the barracks, destroyed a sparring dummy, but it wasn't enough. None of it touched my anger."
He turned to look at me then, reaching out to pat my arm gently. "I started drinking. Heavily. Trying to drown it out, I think. Do you remember what you said to me? When you found me in the library, pickled in whisky?"
I shook my head silently; it felt like a lifetime had passed since that day.
I wonder if he knows he'd been drugged? I'm not telling him.
"You told me that some fates are worse than death. I know, now, that Kallian was right -- staying alive only to be tortured and raped by my father's men would be the worst thing that could happen. But I hadn't been able to put myself in her shoes. Not until you said that. You told me that mercy sometimes requires a friend's help.
"Put yourself in Faren's shoes, Sierra. Say it was you who was tied to a chair, doomed to a short and painful life of being force-fed whatever grisly food the darkspawn could find, providing the blood that would allow the Architect to do Maker-knows-what sort of harm. Say it was you, watching Leliana slowly lose her mind as she tried, unsuccessfully, to keep you safe -- and you knew she could get out, could escape in a heartbeat, if it wasn't for you.
"Do you expect me to believe you wouldn't have jumped at the chance for a quick, painless death that allowed Leliana to get away? Really? You don't think you would have wanted her to kill you so she could escape?"
He was quiet for a few moments, as I closed my eyes and imagined the scenario as he described it. It wasn't hard -- even just being in the cell next to Faren, I'd considered my options; he'd had none. I would have taken the pill, and gratefully. A few angry tears escaped and trickled down my cheek.
Nate nodded as he watched the emotions cross my face. "Now you're angry -- at yourself, for somehow failing Faren; at Faren, for asking you to do the unthinkable; and at anyone else who tries to forgive you for it. You feel so guilty that it feels like anyone not blaming you doesn't care about Faren. Someone should be made to suffer for Faren being sick, right? And there's no one else but you to pay the piper."
The trickle became a flood as the tears multiplied. Pissed off at the sign of weakness, I wiped my nose on my sleeve irritably until I felt Nate press a handkerchief into my hand. "Stop," I whispered, voice gravelly with emotion.
His gaze was compassionate but firm. "Almost. Just one more thing, I promise." He moved his hand to my shoulder, whether for comfort or to keep me from fleeing I wasn't sure. "I just have one question. Why are you punishing Alistair and Aedan for it?"
My eyes widened as he finally cut to the chase. I hiccupped in shock, mind racing.
"Do you blame them? They took too long to find you."
