I do not own Dragon Age. Please enjoy.
In The Darkness
She heard the blade swishing towards her and ducked underneath it. Swinging her own blade up and into the fleshy armpit, she felt it slice through flesh and joint and heard the monsters arm drop to the ground with a wet thud.
She heard the faint whistle of arrows flying in her direction, she shouted a warning to her fellow recruits and threw herself to the ground.
She felt the ground shake as one of the bigger monsters stomped over to her. Hearing the grunt as it hefted its weapon over its head she rolled onto her back out of the way, just in time to hear the weapon harmlessly hit the ground where she used to be. Pinpointing its ragged breathing she thrust her blade up into its throat, jerked it to the side and ripped it out again. The monster fell to the ground and thrashed around before it finally stopped moving.
She smelt the stench of blood as one of the creatures jumped on her and forced her to the floor. She stabbed her blade up through its jaw and into its brain. It shuddered and became still. She pushed it off of her and retrieved her blade before standing up.
She turned her head, trying to listen for any sounds of fighting, but she only heard the sounds of her companions. She heard one of them come up behind her. His footsteps were heavy with armoured boots, so it wasn't Daveth, and she could hear the sound of a shield being placed against a blade, so it wasn't Ser Jory. That only left Alistair.
"Are you alright?" he asked when he reached her. That had been a most popular question since it happened. Everyone seemed to think that she could no longer fight, always suggesting that she should take it easy, or to wait while others did the fighting. It was annoying more than anything, for obviously she was still able to fight.
"I'm fine Alistair," that was the common response people got when they asked her if she was alright. She knew he was just concerned, but he had no reason to be. She was fine, with her injury, with everything; it wasn't like she had been unprepared for such a thing.
Cora Cousland was the beautiful twenty one year old daughter of the Teyrn and Teyrna of Highever, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, the younger sister of the heir to the Teyrnir of Highever, Fergus Cousland, and aunt of the delightful handful that was Fergus' son, Oren Cousland. She was third in line to inherit her father's title and she couldn't be more pleased. It meant that she wasn't obligated to do the things that other nobles did, like get married or have kids, though her mother would have loved if she did do those things. Or rather, that had been her life, before Arl Howe had stomped all over it and ripped it to shreds.
Howe was the reason for everything short of the blight in her book. Her parents and nephew were dead because of him, as was her brother's wife, Oriana. She was homeless because of him. She was a Grey Warden because of him. She was blind because of him.
Her once deep blue eyes were no longer so. She had escaped through the servant's passage, as her mother had wanted and had emerged outside the castle with Duncan. What they hadn't expected was for a troop of Howe's men to be passing the area. They had fought, Duncan was strong and she was fast and together they fought the men back. Cora had noticed a soldier standing a little way off and he was fumbling with something. She turned towards him as he threw it and started to raise her arms, but she was too late. The glass phial hit her eyes and smashed, splashing whatever was within into her eyes. She had screamed in pain and fallen back. Duncan killed the man who had blinded her and dragged her away from Highever. As soon as they were a good distance away he began tending to her eyes.
However, Duncan was no mage and no healer, and so the only thing he could do was clean her eyes and wrap a bandage around her head to cover them. By the time they had reached Ostagar and sought out a mage it was too late, her eyes were permanently damaged and she was blind. She had asked Duncan if there were any scars. He said there were, but they were covered by the cloth.
Duncan had been so sure that she was now worthless as a fighter, he had even tried to release her from conscription, but she refused. She had given her word and she would keep it. She was a Cousland and Couslands always kept their word. She had shown him that she was still a good fighter and then explained why.
Her father had been a bit on the paranoid side, fighting in a war could do that to you. He had seen his fair share of warriors with injuries and how it affected their life. He had seen the kinds of things unhonourable warriors would do to gain an advantage. He had done everything to ensure that his kids would not be caught with a disadvantage. Including making them wear a blindfold while training. She had learned to fight blind at a young age, as well as with both arms, without her hearing and with one of her arms tied behind her back, she could do that with either arm.
She walked over to where Daveth and Jory were arguing, again. They were trying to figure out who had killed the last of the Darkspawn. She felt what little warmth from the sun that she could feel leave her face and knew that she had entered the shade. Alistair came up behind her.
"We're at the ruins, come on," he told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and guiding her into the tower. He stopped her and carried on forward, leaving her at the back of the group. She heard a faint rustle and a soft footstep from somewhere behind them. She tilted her head so that her ear was aimed in the direction that she had heard the sound. Then she heard a woman speak.
"Well, well, what have we here?" she drawled, her footsteps coming closer. Alistair walked to the back of the group and stood next to Cora, who stood with her back still turned to the stranger. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger? Poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned. Or merely an intruder? Come into these Darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey." She stopped mere feet from them. "What say you? Scavenger or intruder?" she asked impatiently.
"Neither. The Grey wardens once owned this tower," said Cora, still not turning around to face the woman.
"Tis a tower no longer," she said, "Why do you not turn around? Tis not as if I don't know that you are blind, I've been watching you for a while now." Cora reluctantly turned around.
"There now is that not better," Morrigan said before she started to walk away, "yes, I have watched your progress for some time," Cora followed the voice, Alistair close behind her, "Where do they go I wondered, why are they here? And now you disturb ashes that none have touched in so long. Why is that?" her footsteps had stopped and her voice was clearer, so she had turned around. Cora came to a stop and Alistair put his hand on her shoulder.
"Don't answer her," she whispered in her ear, "she looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby…" he was cut off and it was apparent that the woman had heard him despite his hushed tones.
"Ooh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you," the woman mocked.
"Yes, swooping is bad," he murmured. Behind her Daveth was going on about her being a witch of the wilds.
"Witch of the Wilds," the woman said, Cora could practically hear the smirk on her face, "such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" she chuckled, "you there, pretty girl, women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."
"I am Cora. A pleasure to meet you," her mother would be appalled at her if she forgot her manners, no matter where she was.
"Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan," she said amicably, "shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?" At this Alistair stepped forward.
"'Here no longer?' You stole them, didn't you? You're … some kind of … sneaky … witch thief!" Alistair struggled to get out. Cora shook her head, if she still had her eyes she'd be glaring at him by now. He shouldn't be antagonising the one person who could take them to the treaties.
"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?" Morrigan said, she wasn't really helping herself.
"Quite easily, it seems. Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them," Alistair demanded. Cora really wanted to kick him. They didn't want to be accusing this woman of theft, especially if she was a witch.
"I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened." No, but Cora could tell from the slight hitch in her voice that she was insulted, if only a little bit.
"Then who removed them?" asked Cora, hoping that it would get them somewhere.
"'Twas my mother, in fact" Morrigan said.
"Can you take us to her?" Cora asked eagerly.
"There is a sensible request," she said before she giggled, "I like you."
"I'd be careful," Alistair muttered, "first it's, 'I like you…' but then 'Zap!' Frog time." Cora seriously doubted that magic could actually do that, so did Morrigan, judging by the small laugh she gave while they waited as Daveth was once more panicking about being near a Witch of the Wilds. When he finally shut up Morrigan spoke once again.
"Follow me, then, if it pleases you." And then Cora could hear her soft footsteps walking away and Alistair was guiding her over a ridge and down the other side. She sighed, she really wished that she still had her sight, but you didn't always get what you wish for, so she continued to allow Alistair to guide her.
I hope I did ok, please review. I would write a better AN, but I'm tired