Chapter 189: Ripples in Time

Larus and Jowan seemed to be heading towards a fast friendship, and the healer could be found in the library most days working alongside Lana and Jowan to catalogue the scores of tomes piled haphazardly there. Some of the books had to be recopied – the aging parchment was near to crumbling – and Lana seemed content with that mind-numbing task, leaving the mages to discuss research and magical theory to their hearts’ content. Surprisingly, Donal and Larus didn’t see eye-to-eye, and the Warden healer preferred going on patrols or working with those training in the courtyard. It worked out well, ensuring we had one healer at the Peak all the time, even when the Wardens were busy.

And the Wardens were busy; Alistair had most of them heading out regularly, investigating reports of darkspawn, caves full of ‘monsters’, and the like. To my relief, however, my husband sent the others out on these missions while he stayed behind at the Keep. I knew it frustrated him, but between the issues with Cailan out of the country, and how anxious it made me when we were apart, he stayed put. I couldn’t be anything but grateful – and our frequent night-time activities kept him from being too cranky. It works for me, at least.

It was several days before I got the chance to talk to Faren – something I’d sworn I wouldn’t do – and it occurred quite by accident. I woke early one morning, and, unable to get back to sleep with my ‘to-do’ list tumbling around in my head, I decided to head down to the courtyard and do some training. I’d struggled to find time to train with everything waiting on my desk, despite knowing it could quite literally save my life again someday, so I jumped at the opportunity to put in some time in armour. Alistair, who’d been up late the night before dealing with reports of a darkspawn sighting, slept through my morning ablutions, and I crept out of the room leaving him snoring blissfully in our bed.

I felt lucky to find that Avanna was on shift when I left our suite; the guardswoman followed me down to the training area with a satisfied smile. She’d been after me to train more, and I scowled at her smug satisfaction. She just laughed, and I rolled my eyes with a smile. I was grateful, though – my other guards were all too nervous to spar with me. Avanna seemed to actually enjoy it, and she never backed down, either. I hated it when people let me win.

We stepped out of the Keep, warm cloaks wrapped around us against the chilly air, but it was immediately obvious that we weren’t alone. I could hear the sounds of fighting from the direction of the training area, and at least a couple of the guards in the courtyard were aiming half their attention at whomever had started before us. Instead of asking, I strolled closer to see for myself. I made no attempt to sneak – not that it was a strength of mine anyway – but the dwarf who was currently destroying yet another training dummy was clearly wrapped up in his own head, and he didn’t notice me until I practically touched him.

He jumped, startled, holding his sword up in a defensive position, and I held out my hands placatingly. “Good morning.”

He merely grunted, and then went back to his task. I exchanged looks with Avanna, and the guardswoman glided silently out of the ring to take up position out of earshot, though I knew she’d still be watching. I must give that woman a raise. I watched Faren for a few more minutes as he indiscriminately attacked the training dummy, which was already listing alarmingly to one side, most of its stuffing decorating the ground below it.

“Did it insult your mother?” Faren spun around, trying to scowl, but clearly confused. I clarified, “The dummy. Did it insult your mother? Call you names?”

He continued to glower.

“I suspect you’ve gone through the budget for training dummies for an entire year just since I’ve been back,” I ventured. “I just wondered what they’d done wrong to earn your anger.” When he rolled his eyes and turned back towards the dummy – which had now fallen off the post, all but useless – I offered, “Seems like you might do better with an actual partner. It always helps me, anyway.”

There was a silent pause, but just when I thought he was going to ignore me entirely, he finally turned back to me. “If I refuse, you’ll just taunt me until I agree, won’t you?” he complained.

“Probably.” I took off my cloak and hung it over a nearby post, grabbing a pair of practice daggers as I stepped out into the ring. “Sounds like something I’d do. Your memory starting to come back?” I teased.

“Some.” He grunted, glancing over at the rack of practice blades, before shrugging and facing me with just the one short sword he already held. “I’ll go easy on you today, princess, since you’re probably a little rusty.”

I winced; I knew he was mostly joking, but he wasn’t that far off, really, and the jibe stung a little. I hated that nickname too, though I knew he was using it to keep some emotional distance between us. I could see a glimmer of remorse on his face, but I didn’t want to deal with either of our hurt feelings at the moment. Besides, I knew he didn’t mean any harm, and I didn’t want his apology. “Yeah, yeah, less talking and more fighting.”

We circled a few times before he came at me, lightning fast, with a slash at my midsection. I jumped back and parried a backslash, and then lost myself in the rhythm of the fight. There was no question he was better than me – he always had been, and I hadn’t practiced in far too long – but he didn’t go too easy on me, forcing me to move, to block, to dodge, right to my limits. I had limited opportunities to return the favour, unable to go on the offensive against his aggressive attacks, until his apparent lack of sleep and muscle fatigue finally gave me an opening. He dropped his arm too quickly after a jab, and turned, giving me his unprotected back for a fraction of a second.

I pounced, leaping up behind him and wrapping my arm around his neck, taking us both down to the ground. We rolled together, but my longer reach was no match for his greater strength and agility. Before I knew it, he had me pinned face down, his blade pressed against my throat, one knee in the centre of my back holding me down.

I yielded, and he released me, flopping down beside me, panting. I could barely find the energy to roll over and get my face out of the dirt, and the two of us just rested there, side by side, catching our breath and letting the sweat cool. I looked ruefully down at my filthy armour, swearing never to go so long again without training. I couldn’t feel too badly though; I hadn’t expected to give Faren anything resembling a challenge. He’s even more tired than he looks.

After a few minutes, he struggled to his feet and offered me a hand. I took it, and the two of us staggered to a nearby bench, closer to one of the large braziers, where he handed me a water skin and I took a deep, greedy pull before passing it back. We sat silently a while longer, sharing the water, until I excused myself and headed inside to shower before starting the rest of my day.

The next morning I dragged myself out of bed early again so I could train more; Faren was there, as I half-expected, but we didn’t say a word as we drew practice blades and began sparring. Neither of us pushed quite as hard as the day before – I’d limped for the rest of the morning until Levi insisted I take a healing potion, and Faren apparently went back to bed and slept through lunch – but we both got a good workout, and I saluted him silently with my dagger when we were done before hurrying back inside.

That became our pattern for a while; sometimes others joined us, but regardless we met every morning and worked out both our muscles and frustrations at the same time until we could talk and laugh together like we had before being captured by the Architect. It was nice, and when I thought about it too much it brought tears to my eyes, feeling like maybe I’d managed to get my friend back, despite what I’d done to him.

It was probably the fifth morning before we talked about anything of consequence – and to my credit, I still tried to stay out of it. I was sitting on the bench slurping water from a skin when Faren peered at me sideways with a half-smirk.

“It’s killing you, not saying anything, isn’t it?”

I shook my head and stood up on wobbly, fatigued legs, and grinned down at the dwarf man-spreading on the bench below me. “Not really.” I shook my head. “But you sound almost disappointed.”

He scoffed, and I chuckled as I walked away.

He didn’t say anything the next day, but the day after that, he looked at me again as I put my cloak on to head back inside. “Nothing? Really?”

I smiled softly. “You can just say if you’re looking for someone to talk to, you know.”

He grunted instead of responding, but when I turned to go back inside, he slid over to make room for me on the bench and patted the space beside him almost reluctantly. I sat down, but he seemed too tongue-tied to know where to start.

I sighed.

“You know how I have a lot of secrets?” Since Faren’s recovery from the poison I’d given him – he said he didn’t blame me, but I’d never stop feeling guilty for his months of coma and resulting amnesia – I hadn’t filled him in on everything he’d known before his memory loss. I’d been honest about keeping things from him, which helped my conscience a little, but it wasn’t the same as telling him everything. Someday I hoped our easy friendship would come back, but it hadn’t completely returned yet – and I knew I was risking it by having this conversation, even if he’d started it. He nodded, so I took another drink to wet my throat. “Before you and I met, the first time, I mean,” he rolled his eyes as I winced slightly, “Alistair and I had a fight. A bad one. We nearly broke up. Well, really, we did break up, but we nearly didn’t get back together.”

I took a deep breath, thinking about those awful days. It still made me ache when I remembered the weeks of misery. I didn’t look at Faren, not wanting him to see the pain in my eyes. “The thing is, I had all these secrets, and he knew most of them. Most, but not all. Because some of them were bigger than him and me – they could hurt someone else, or they just weren’t my secrets to tell. But of course, eventually one of them came out. I’d kept it to avoid hurting Aedan – it could have been devastating for my brother, and wouldn’t have helped anyone to know – but I screwed up, and everyone found out. And it turned out that it had an impact I hadn’t predicted – on Alistair.