Chapter Seventy-One: Forgiveness
I left Tomas pouring over his maps, and continued on my way to find Alistair; after clearing the main hall, and stealing some bread, cheese, and another apple from a passing servant, I headed up towards his room. As I walked down the hall, munching on my snack, I heard talking; I paused just outside of Theron's open door. He was talking quietly with Blake, and I eavesdropped for a few minutes.
"This is the letter A. Each letter makes a sound; this one can either sound like 'ahh' or like 'ay'. For example,
a
pple, or m
a
ke."
"Like eight?" Blake asked, and I grinned. I'd asked the same question once, in school, as I recalled.
"Um, not exactly. It sounds the same, but sometimes other letters in a combination can make the same sounds. Eight is spelled with the letters E and I. When you put them together, they sound like 'ay'. It's a bit confusing, isn't it?"
I could practically hear Blake scratching his head. "Okay, if you say so," he replied dubiously.
"Let's try the next one. Letter B. It's less confusing."
"How do you know what order they go in?"
"You just have to remember. You'll get it eventually."
I turned the corner, finally having something to add to the discussion. "There's a song, actually. It makes it easier to remember." I smiled softly at Theron, and he flushed slightly. Blake bounced off his chair to hug me.
I spent ten minutes teaching the alphabet song to both Theron and Blake; it was sort of cute watching a full grown man fumble his way through something every first-grader could do back on Earth. I took my leave, not wanting to disrupt their lessons, no matter how adorable it was to watch Theron try to teach; I was convinced, though, that I'd done the right thing for Blake. And I thought it just might be good for Theron, too.
I finally reached Alistair's room; I listened at the door, and heard soft snoring. Evidently Alistair had decided to have a nap. I crept into the room, trying to be silent, glad he'd left the door unlocked. He was fast asleep, lying spread-eagled on his belly, wearing just a pair of trousers. Sunlight poured through the open window, and his sandy-blond hair looked almost golden; his face was angelic, matching the golden halo nicely. And on his bedside table, sparkling in the light, was a miniature Ironman figurine.
Not wanting to wake him -- Maker knew we both needed sleep, after our...exertions, the night before -- I tiptoed to the edge of the bed and crawled onto it. I carefully climbed up to lay beside him so I could see his face; he stirred, briefly, wrapped one arm around my waist to pull me closer, and dropped back to sleep without a word. I watched him for a while, admiring his regal features and bronze skin, allowing my fingers to trail softly over the arm that held me; in that moment, I felt content, and even confident, in a way I'd never felt before. We had come through the fire, he and I, and we had made it. Never again would we take each other for granted. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, cuddled into his embrace.
I woke a while later to find him staring down at me, a warm smile on his face.
"Maker, how I've missed this." He leaned in for a kiss.
I thought about making a smart comment, but couldn't. I returned his smile dreamily. "Me too."
"I sleep so much better with you here. Fewer nightmares. It's odd."
"Works for me. We'll just stick together, and we'll be fine."
"I can handle that." He grinned. "So...when do you want to admit to everyone that we're..."
"Back together? No need. Maybe Eamon doesn't know, though I wouldn't guarantee that; everyone else does. Teagan saw us last night, and apparently we weren't very good at keeping straight faces at breakfast this morning."
"Andraste's ass, I'm sorry Sierra. I know you wanted to wait."
It hadn't occurred to me how he might take such a sentiment until he said it out loud. "Only because I thought I should warn Aedan before he tries to kill you for taking liberties. Not because I don't want people to know. I'm not ashamed of us."
He blushed. "I didn't...right, um. Thanks."
I kissed him again, but before it could turn into anything more serious, my stomach rumbled, and I winced. "I mostly missed lunch, and I think it's almost supper, based on the light. I think we'd better get up before I'm forced to gnaw my own arm off."
He laughed. "Your desire is my command, my dear." I punched him lightly, and he cried out dramatically. "Hey! I bruise easily, you know."
"Then consider it me marking my territory. Now get moving, buster. My stomach waits for no man."
I climbed out of the bed, smoothing my dress and running fingers through perpetually tangled hair; he shrugged into a tunic --
it's a shame to cover all those muscles!
-- and declared himself ready. I took a deep breath, reached out for his hand, and headed into the hall.
We walked down to the main hall hand-in-hand, me skipping along to keep pace with his long legs. I didn't mind, though -- I really was hungry. Eamon's eyes widened when we entered the hall together, but he kept his thoughts to himself; Isolde wasn't so clever. She shot me an exceptionally dirty look before turning towards her husband and saying something. I couldn't catch it all, but I heard the word 'bastard' in scathing tones. I tensed up, contemplating my escape route if I flew across the table and scratched her eyes out; Alistair, seeming to sense my aggravation, put his arms around my waist and held me back.
"It isn't worth it, Sierra. You'll never change her mind, and only cause problems for Theron, and for the Grey Wardens. Let it go."
I slumped, leaning back against him. "I hate that bitch. I swear, one day..."
He escorted me to the far end of the table, as far from Eamon and his wife as possible. Leli grinned at me, waggling her eyebrows as I sat beside her and Alistair squeezed between us. I blushed, and heard her musical giggle peal out. Morrigan rolled her eyes, and I shrugged slightly; I could tell her scowl wasn't really real, though. Theron's smug smirk made me want to smack him, but I kept it to myself. No one else mentioned anything, and soon we were all too busy eating to think much of it.
After supper we retired to the library and spent the evening gabbing; Teagan joined us, and was a welcome addition, though he wouldn't quite look me in the eye. Eamon did not, to my relief. I wasn't sure if he just wasn't into social interaction, was still recovering from Jowan's poison, or was avoiding us for fear of my (or Theron's) reaction.
