Disclaimer: Dragon Age: Origins and everything associated with it are the property of Bioware and EA. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Quick explanation: I've been working on this for a while. I usually have about six stories that I work on concurrently, switching if one gets tedious to keep the creative juices flowing. While I don't intend to bring this story to the forefront of my attention, I have finally gotten a prologue worked out, and so I figured I'd post it and see what you all think. That said, right now my focus is on The Green Eyed Spectre, and to a lesser degree, Of Dogs and Men, along with whatever oneshot I'm working on at the time. So don't expect an update for a while, sorry folks. Regardless, please enjoy.

There and Back Again

Prologue

Aedan Cousland was many things.

He was the Warden Commander of Ferelden, and the trusted right hand of his warden brother Alistair Theirin, who ruled the land. He was the slayer of the Archdemon, and the first warden ever to survive slaying it, thanks to a ritual performed by the witch Morrigan. He was formerly the second heir to the lands of Highever after his brother Fergus, who ruled there even now. He was a leader of men, and led his own group of companions during the Blight that had ravaged the land. He was a warrior, a quick and agile adversary, far more like the rogues Zevran and Leliana than his juggernauts of companions, Sten and Alistair.

His friends told him he was maddeningly jovial in battle, and someone they hoped never to cross.

In truth, Aedan Cousland was a man who had lost nearly everyone, and one who had shut his pain away while duty and duty alone compelled him onward. Amid the neverending battles and rare successes, however, there had been a spark, one light during the endless night of the Fifth Blight that had kept him from descending entirely into despair.

Morrigan.

Morrigan the Witch of the Wilds.

Morrigan the sadistic bitch.

Morrigan the horrifically powerful mage.

Morrigan his lover.

Morrigan the mother of his child.

Morrigan who had left him in the dead of night, after the battle.

That would not do.

He'd promised her after they had performed the ritual, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, that he would find her always. The witch had simply curled closer to him and called him an idiot. He didn't blame her, he was something of an idiot when it came to her.

It wasn't for nothing that the rest of his companions generally didn't like her. She could be, and often was, a cold-hearted bitch of a shrew. However, that was not all there was to her, and after unsubtly trying to find out more about her through conversation, Aedan had begun to gain a glimpse of the person inside. She valued survival above all else, in herself and in others when they didn't impede her own. To that end, she was ruthlessly and lethally pragmatic, citing power as the quickest and surest means to securing her own survival. After all, if you were strong enough, it became much harder for others to kill you.

She didn't understand common human customs, and unless they assisted in her endeavors, wasn't inclined to learn or put up with them. As good as some people were, to her mind the majority were feckless traitors or cowardly simpletons, and thus she would clearly be better off not dealing with them at all. There was a small part of her hidden away, however, that found humanity and human culture fascinating, longing to alternately study and join it.

There was even more to her, however. She liked shiny things, ornaments that she could have fun adorning her body with. She was methodical in her potion and salvemaking, far surpassing Wynne's attempts, and her potions worked much faster and better than the Chantry-made ones Aedan had remembered from Highever. And while she hadn't mastered the magical arts of healing to nearly the same degree, her potions would always be given out exactly when they were needed, with exactly how much.

She was also surprisingly gentle in their coupling. Vigorous and wildly inventive, but emotive and soft nonetheless. Aedan had silently wondered if her 'mother,' Flemeth, was to blame for that, seducing Chasind men back to her home. Naturally, he kept such thoughts to himself, as calling anything Morrigan did 'gentle' to her face was tantamount to suicide.

After she had left him, he wandered for a short time looking for her, even journeying with Sten to Par Vollen. There he'd met the Arishok Sten reported to, and stayed for several months before returning to his hunt. As far as he was concerned, he had fulfilled his duty, but it seemed duty had not been done with him. He was recalled and it appeared as though his battles were not yet over, as he was made to lead the wardens from Amaranthine. Finding and hunting down the new darkspawn and the horrid children, Aedan and his companions had proven triumphant again, slaying both the Architect and the Mother. Amaranthine was saved, and though Vigil's Keep was damaged, its new dwarven walls could be easily repaired.

And so he had led again for a time. Hunting down the remaining darkspawn on the surface and finding the entrances to their lairs. Months had passed, and with Alistair's approval, Aedan had finally turned over command of the wardens in Ferelden to Nathaniel Howe. They'd had a rocky start, what with Nathaniel trying to kill him, but that was fairly tame by Aedan's standards, and the two had grown to respect one another. Nathaniel would make a good Warden Commander.

With the passing time, Aedan's leads grew and thinned in turn. He'd already long passed the time he had intended to find her, when her belly was full of his child and she needed to slow down. Instead, he found himself tracking the pair of them, though the path was a long and twisting one. Eventually, he had made his way back to the house she and Flemeth had called home in the Korcari Wilds, and there he had met Ariane, who was tracking Morrigan herself.

They'd joined forces, soon journeying to Kinloch Hold and being further joined by Finn, an excitable and somewhat naïve scholar of a mage. Eventually, their trail had led them here, to the Dragonbone Wastes. It was not a place of good memories for Aedan, and he knew what they would find as they delved deeper in. Finally, in the nest the Mother had been slain in, they beheld a glowing mirror set further in, with Morrigan herself pacing in front of it.

Finn, excited by the mirror began to rush forward, but an arm across his chest from Ariane barred his way, and she shook her head, nodding at the witch. Aedan just began trekking towards her, half listening to Ariane's loudly whispered, "Ask her about our book!" Crossing the cracked ground, he stepped forward, each pace bringing him closer, until he was at the base of the stairs leading up to the Eluvian.

It was there Aedan's sorrow returned, as Morrigan blocked his path with an upraised hand on the mirror's surface, "No further, please. One more step and I leave. For good, this time."

The bands around his chest tightened, but he was long used to ignoring them, "Well, hello to you too, Morrigan. How are you doing these days?"

"I had forgotten how much of an idiot you were. Traumatic memories, I imagine." She then gestured to the large, glowing mirror, running one hand along its surface and causing it to ripple and cry out, "I assume you know what this is. I have gone to great lengths to find and activate this portal. Give me reason and I use it, and you will not be able to follow."

"I didn't come here to fight you, Morrigan. Only to fulfill my promise. And it is one I will uphold, even if you step into that portal and halfway 'round the world."

She smirked, but then her brow furrowed and she gazed at him intently, both condescending and…regretfully? "Ah, but this portal does not lead to our world. It leads to another place, beyond this world and beyond the fade. And this portal can only be used once more. Achieving even this much was…difficult. How will you find me then, Aedan Cousland?"

"It might take me a few more years to figure out, but make no mistake. I will follow you."

"Such devotion! What could I have possibly done to receive such a troublesome thing?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, but his grin, a large boyish thing, lessened the effect, "Oh, this and that."

She openly glared down at his insouciance, and then her eyes flickered to his hand, her mouth sliding easily into a smirk, "You kept the ring. I sensed your approach and remained here, waiting. You are growing slower, Aedan, as you age."

"Yeah, well you're older than I am, and there was the slight matter of the varterral back aways. I blame the new companions, not nearly as good as you and Zevran, let alone Shale."

"The useless hunk of rock was not my superior in any fashion." Her eyes softened, however, turning almost regretful, and she addressed him once more, "Tell me. Why did you come? Truthfully."

Aedan shrugged his armored shoulders, and he pointedly looked away from her, beginning to examine the mirror, "What would you have me say, Morrigan? I came because I promised you that I would. I came because I wanted to see my child, however much you may protest such a meeting. I came because without you beside me, duty is a cold and unforgiving mistress." His eyes met hers then, "I came because I love you, you cold-hearted ruthless bitch."

Her eyes softened a bit, "And I you, Aedan, you foolish, malignantly besotted whelp of a man." And yet her eyes were both fierce and proud, daring him to make light of it.

It was a dare he couldn't refuse. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, "Whelp? Now that's just hurting my feelings. So where is the child, anyway?"

"He is safe, and far from here. Your son is strong, Aedan. I knew that he would be."

"What is his name?"

"Sarim. Given his father, I thought it appropriate to use a name of your history."

A faint smile began spreading across his face, "Motherhood suits you, Morrigan."

She saw it, of course. In an instant the smirk of superiority was firmly entrenched once more, and she scoffed at his comment, "It suits my breasts and hips, you mean. Make no mistake, Aedan, your son has not softened me in the least."

"And Urthemiel?"

"Has not manifested, nor drawn the darkspawn to him, and I doubt that either will occur. You worried over both, did you not?"

"Admitted and agreed," Aedan stepped forward, coming up behind her as the witch ran one hand across the mirror's strange surface, "Well then, I guess we better get going. The little elf girl wants to annoy you until you return a book of hers taken, and I've no desire to see you make her explode. So what, do we just touch the glowing magical mirror?"

Morrigan spun about, locking her gaze with his, her eyes wide. Interesting; it was rare, the times he had managed to surprise her. He'd learned to savor and cherish each one, "You…you cannot know what you ask!"

He scoffed, "Of course I do. I promised you, Morrigan, that I would follow you anywhere, find you anywhere. Everything else is secondary and a detail not worth considering."

She huffed, crossing her arms, but he could see the faint traces of a smile upon her face. Her voice, often sharp, took a warmer yet no less pointed edge, "You always were an idiot."

Aedan grinned at her from beneath his helmet and looked up and down the elaborate mirror, "So where will this portal lead us?"

"Not where, my love," He turned his puzzled eyes upon her and was caught in her own, the fierce gaze of a predator swooping in for the kill. Slowly, the smile that had been imperceptibly there grew until she simply radiated a triumphant joy, "when."

"You're joking. You must be."

"I do not jest, Aedan, you know this. I had originally intended to travel back to the point after you gave me Flemeth's false grimoire. A fabrication though it may be, several of the spells that I learned and performed would have provided me a key, if you will. A target, for which to aim the portal. If you are set on joining me," at Aedan's nod, she continued, "then another option arises."

"Oh?"

"The old warden mage, Avernus, was a genius. A loathsome madman to be certain, but a genius nevertheless regarding the magic in blood. With you at my side, I can use the taint you bear to send us back further, to the point at which it first entered your body."

"My Joining, you mean, at Ostagar. Is such a thing possible?"

"Nothing is ever certain, of course, but it would be the likeliest path to succeed."

That reminded him, "Actually, speaking of our chances, I've got a present for you. It's very pretty, and I have no compunction about bribing my way closer to your good graces." Aedan then reached into his pack and withdrew the object he'd bought just for this. It had been ridiculously expensive, but if he was going to convince Morrigan not to turn him to ash upon reuniting, he had thought he'd need every chance he could get. The staff was indeed very shiny, with the oversized crystal at the top, and it was powerful. Or at least, that had been what Anders told him as he had nearly drooled over it, "Probably a bit stronger than whatever staff you're using now, and it would make a good companion to Spellweaver. The names even work out, this is Spellfury."

He passed it over, and the moment her hands clutched it, she began lighting up in an ethereal aura, and began emitting a light wave of force. Bringing it around to a ready stance, the power washing off her peaked and an unseen wind picked up around them before lessening and subsiding, and Aedan could finally hear her, "Ooh…oh, yes, quite fine indeed…uhn…yes, this will do nicely…"

Aedan just sighed to himself, getting her attention, "I suppose the staff will be replacing me in the bedroll as well, huh?"

"Rather…hah…presumptuous of you, Cousland."

"What can I say? Zevran rubbed off on me, I've become an eternal optimist! And before you say it, no, not that way."

Morrigan was not the type of person to let such an opening go, however, "My, my. Two years without my company and you have already turned to little elven men. I am beginning to wonder which head was leading your hunt for me."

Aedan grinned, "Well, though it wasn't my intention earlier, I'm forced to agree with you. Motherhood has suited your breasts and hips quite nicely."

She laughed, a wild and untamed thing, and continued, "Our window of opportunity grows short. If you are certain?" He nodded once more, "Very well, I suppose I shall suffer your presence some more. Give me your hand."

He removed his gauntlet and stretched it out. Morrigan withdrew a short knife, kept for whatever work was needed, and slid it across the palm of his hand, catching the crimson flow with a small vial held under it for just such a thing, and in the meantime he addressed her, one last question on his mind, "What will happen to Sarim? To this world?"

She was focused on her task, but answered regardless, "Not much is known about temporal magics, and I believe Flemeth was one of the foremost. One of two options arises, in the first, our travel back will obliterate this world from existence, it having never come to pass. In the other, and the one I am more inclined to believe, our going back will split the worlds, as though forming a fork in a path from the moment we return. This world will continue, but we will never interact with it again. In that case, Sarim will be fine. He is being watched over by those I trust more than usual, and he will be protected and raised properly. If that is all?"

He nodded and she simply smiled at him. It was one of the rare, exquisitely open smiles that she had revealed. A warm smile always telling him that no matter what she may say, she saw him as an equal, and there was no higher compliment to come from her, "Then come, my love."

He stepped up to the Eluvian, running a hand across it, and was startled for a moment when Morrigan took his own hand in hers, before the two of them strode forward into the portal, leaving the world behind them for good.

"From now on, you are a Grey Warden…"

Aedan tipped the large chalice back, and the foul concoction slid into his mouth. He didn't drink it so much as it invaded him, immediately setting his very limbs on fire as it spread throughout his body. He could feel his muscles tensing spasmodically as they tried to fight against the intrusion, but it was pointless, and with a groan, his vision blanked out.

But he could still hear.

Hear something…

A call? No…

Not a cr-

A roar. His vision suddenly returned, and he found himself staring into the maw of a high dragon, seemingly corrupted by the darkspawn taint. The dragon stretched its jaws, and sound bellowed forth, hitting him as a solid and reverberating wave.

And as it subsided, he could feel its chilly echoes lingering on his skin, and in his bones, and in his teeth, rattling out in a cry.

Seek.

Serve.

Submit.

Submit, why would he submit, he was a Grey W-SUBMIT! No! He had already come too far and lost too much, he was going to make this worth it! He began straining, fighting against the cold noise seeping into his skin and eyes, his throat and heart. It was powerful, this call, and he couldn't la-No! He would fight it!

A miniscule wave of warmth returned to his bones…

He would seek! He would find the darkspawn, and destroy them!

That heat grew, beginning to stir his limbs…

He would serve! He had failed his duty to his family, but he would protect everyone he could! That was his duty now!

His eyes opened up, and the dragon was gone, replaced by flickering flashes of color and sound. Trying to focus, the heat spread throughout his skin, forming a warm cocoon and turning inward to warm the rest of his body…

He would submit! To duty. To sacrifice. To the Grey Wardens. But never to the dragon!

The warmth suffused him, piercing his heart and his eyes opened up fully, taking in the array of clear images before him. Hundreds, no Thousands of memories. Feelings, thoughts, sacrifices, plans, and actions, all laid out before him. He saw Alistair and Morrigan…

He saw others, elves and dwarves, men and women, qunari and golems, and darkspawn.

Endless hordes of darkspawn.

He saw battles yet to come, decisions yet to be made, friends yet to be lost…

But he saw, as an observer might take in a fine painting, and finally the litany of memories ended, and he saw no more.

They were rushing at him.

They were rushing into him.

His mind strained, trying frantically to adapt, and in between the pain, Aedan screamed.

On the ground outside, Aedan had simply take the sip and Duncan had retrieved the Joining chalice, lest the young Cousland prove no match for the taint and drop it. Then Aedan's eyes had whited out, seeing for himself the archdemon, as all those who joined during a Blight were written to.

And then things…changed.

Aedan sank to his knees, groaning in pain and unwittingly gnashing his teeth. And then his body began lighting up, as if on fire. But these were no flames, for no flame was this pure white. And as Duncan gestured for Alistair to step back and observe, they watched as the flames began to consume Aedan's body, burning it away and yet, leaving it behind whole, and dare they say it, larger and healthier? Finally, the straps to his armor and sword gave way, and the scaled armor burst away from his body, littering the ground around it with ruined and melted hunks of metal.

The heat from the conflagration was nearly unbearable, and neither warden was able to get close, but as they watched, the fire began to die down. Upon the body, the flames finally began to recede before they gathered and coalesced…the body soon becoming garbed in a fine set of heavy chainmail, the hilts of two blades over his shoulders, covered by a shield. Finally, the flames receded fully, uncovering his armored boots and legs, his arms and weapons, and his plated chest. When they reached his head, the heat had receded enough for both wardens to approach, weapons drawn warily, and they watched as the Aedan they had begun to know…aged.

His face tightened and darkened, growing scars that had never been there. His beard grew out, nearly matching that of Duncan himself, and his brow grew heavier, gaining the faint tracings of lines across it. The flames continued burning, and suddenly the head was surmounted by an intricate helmet, styled in the warden fashion, with wings to both sides. His eyes were still completely white, a sign that he was still battling the taint within him, but even as they watched, the pure white began to recede as well, and his eyes slowly returned to normal.

The heat had finally dissipated, and both wardens moved next to him, Duncan with his blade across Aedan's throat, and Alistair with his to the back of his neck. Finally, Aedan's pupils returned to normal and his eyes closed, scrunching together before he stood up, gingerly, and opened his eyes.

Afraid of what he would find, Aedan opened his eyes slowly. He could feel the two blades at his neck, and didn't want to startle whoever bore them. It was nighttime, and his eyes faintly took notice of the torches standing around them, but the bulk of his attention was on the man directly in front of him, Duncan.

Duncan, who was scowling mightily and holding a sword to his throat.

Well hell, at least it seemed to have worked.

Slowly and quietly, he brought his hands up into the air, and for the first time, took notice of how comfortable he felt in his armor. Looking to his right, he noted the dragonbone gauntlets adorning his arm. Another look down revealed that he was still garbed in the heavy chain he'd bought from Wade, who'd insisted the set belonged to Evon the Great. Shifting minutely, he could feel the familiar pull of the blades and shield across his back, and the pack below them, strung at his waist.

Imperceptibly, his eyes widened. Morrigan had said they would be getting sent back…

Slowly, a smile began to creep across his face, and Duncan frowned further and twitched the blade in his hand, but Aedan didn't even care. He still had all of his trusty gear! The equipment that had seen him through the Blight's final battles and the campaign in Amaranthine!

Oh…these darkspawn would be in for a treat!

Coming back to his senses, he locked his gaze with Duncan's, "I'm guessing you've got a question or two for me, and that the blade at the back of my neck is Alistair's?"

The old man shifted, "Indeed. Now, who are you, and what has become of Aedan?"

"Well, that's a long and compli-" the Warden Commander's growl cut him off and he changed his angle, "You see, it's not so much what's become of Aed-" The tip of the blade at his back dug in painfully, though not enough to break the flesh, "That is…it's like thi…oh, bugger it all, we came back to change it anyway. To answer your question, Aedan grew up over the next four years or so, and I'm him. Nice to see you again, Duncan, you look better alive."

"Ridiculous. Cease your lying an-"

"Fiona, the elven mage and warden. You know as well as I who I am speaking of, Duncan, and what it means for the man behind me, being the son of Maric."

Duncan's blade withdrew quietly, and his face paled a touch, "It's not…it can't be possible. You mu-"

Aedan cut him off, "Oh, it's quite possible," here he took note of the raven that had dove into the clearing, alighting on the altar where the joining chalice sat, and continued, "especially if you have the most powerful mage in Thedas casting the spell to do it. Isn't that right, Morrigan?"

The raven disappeared in a flash of light, growing into the witch herself. Aedan could see she was in the outfit Flemeth had crafted for her, bearing both Spellfury and Spellweaver at her back and side respectively. Good, he wasn't the only one then. She crossed her arms, leaning against the altar, and turned her most condescending glare upon the two wardens, "I am most pleased that you recognize my utter superiority, Aedan. We shall have to celebrate."

Author's Notes: I've wanted to do a Dragon Age time travel fic for a long time, and also wanted to rewrite the Warden/Morrigan conversation at the end of witch hunt. As these two are the pairing I'm quite fond of, it's what I chose to use. Let me know what you think and if you have any ideas. I've got the story roughly sketched out, but that's the limit of my planning for this one. Though, one of the basic ideas was simply, how would the party do if they had all the skills, experience, and killer equipment that they had access to at the end of the game. So yes, while I will be increasing the difficulty, for the most part, Aedan and Morrigan are going to dominate their battles, that's kind of the point of a time-travel fic, usually. Thanks for reading!