I am very sorry that I kept you waiting, but many things happened the last weeks. My biggest problem was the sudden disappearance of my beta.
But I found someone who is willing to help me, so here's the second chapter. Enjoy!
Duncan kept an eye on his new recruit. As they had left the clan behind he had told her that they were heading south to Ostagar, and she had taken lead. Mostly they travelled back the way the clan had just come and the elf seemed to know exactly where to go. He knew that the Joining would be the only chance at something at least similar to a life. Nonetheless, the cut he forced her to make was cruel.
He knew Marethari for many years now and according to her, his recruit was a proud hunter, taught in the old ways and he was taking her away from everything she knew. He had never felt pity before, but with her he felt strangely guilty. A city elf could walk his world. They were treated like second class citizens or even lower, but they knew how everything worked. The Dalish, who never had anything to do with humans, were another matter. He frowned while following her.
She was small, barely the height of a teen and slender. Angular was probably a better word. She was all sinews and muscles with not a grain of fat in her body. Her face was thin and oval. Her eyes had the usual elfish tilt and were bigger than human eyes. Her high cheekbones were a prominent feature in her face, but the most prominent was the tattoo she had chosen. It spanned over her forehead and down her nose, the other parts followed her cheekbones, highlighting them, and the last graced her chin. Even though her skin colour was as dark as his, the tattoo was clearly visible. She would stand out at Ostagar like a naked Bloodmage in the Chantry. The way she carried herself – or, tried to, now – was bound to catch attention.
As they reached Ostagar, she looked up at the ruins with wonder in her eyes. They hadn't spoken a word ever since they had left her clan, and nearing his youngest Warden, who nearly talked all the time, brought other worries to his head. The fact that King Cailan himself came to greet him was surprising and worrying at the same time. The elf stood passive, as if rooted to the spot, while the two humans talked. She held her head proudly, and even managed to choke out her name and a formal greeting which surprised not only the King, but Duncan as well. And in turn, the human king surprised Maylea, since he seemed to respect the Dalish and their justified aversion to his race. But the king had disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared, while spewing rubbish about tents and boring strategies.
May stood there and watched him walk away. How could the humans look for guidance in a man who still carried the expression of an awed child in his face? Duncan motioned her to follow him, talking about some things he had to do, but it boiled down to one request, "Please go and find our youngest Member, a Warden by the name of Alistair. Tell him, it's time to gather the other recruits and continue with the Joining." She gave a curt nod and then headed in the direction he had pointed her.
May looked around with her big eyes. She had never seen so many shemlen in one place. In fact, she couldn't even remember seeing armoured humans at all. Within her clan she felt normal, but here she felt small. Stubborn as she was, she kept her head up and looked around. The throbbing pain inside seemed to constantly grow, the healing cut on her left arm burned and let her fingers twitch. The dark whisper that had fluttered around the edge of her mind grew louder, and she shook her head as if she could chase it away. She saw so many different people, heard so many different voices but the smell was even worse than the noise. Duncan had told her where to find his tent and the Grey Warden Symbol made it easy to identify it. She placed her belongings just inside it and then went back out. Most of the people around appeared to be busy, or tried to look like it and ignored others around. But one man seemed to look desperately for help. Even though she didn't like humans, Duncan had told her to remain friendly. She was to become a Grey Warden, and as a Warden she was to get along with all of them. In the end, it was the heart wrenching whimper from behind a fence that caught her attention. The man standing next to the fence asked her if she could assist in some way.
"You... you are a Grey Warden, right?" the man said with a hopeful look in his eyes, "Please, I need help. This Mabari here is sick. His former Master died while battling the darkspawn and he swallowed too much of their foul blood. I have a medicine that could help him, but he needs to be muzzled first and he isn't allowing me in. Can you do it, please? He's such a promising member of the breed, losing him would be a shame."
She looked over the fence and saw a huge dog. That was the source of the woeful cries. "I will see what I can do," she said and lightly leaped over the fence.
The dog cowered in the middle of its pen, looking pathetic. "Andaran atish'an, emma Falon," she greeted the animal and it lifted its head to look at her. "I know how you feel. I know the burning inside your blood and how it tears at your will."
It whimpered again and crawled towards her. Maylea held out her hand and it lightly nudged its nose against it. "You can feel it inside me, can't you?" A silent bark answered her question.
"This Shem has medicine to help you, but he is afraid of you. Let me put this on and he will make the burning go away." With a little whimper it allowed her to put the muzzle on and then she patted its head, "Ma serannas."
As she stood next to the human again he looked at her, utterly amazed. "C-come to me, after the battle is over. I think there's a good chance that he might imprint on you."
She cocked a brow at him and he looked at the dog again. "Is there a chance that you will go into the Wilds?"
"Perhaps," she replied.
"If you happen to go there, could you look for a flower? I need it to make more of this medicine. It's snowy white with a dark red centre."
"I'll keep my eyes open," she said.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked and she looked at him calculatingly.
"I'm looking for a young Grey Warden," she said and he nodded.
"Alistair. He went up there, you can't miss him."
"Ma serannas."
Maylea weaved her way through the soldiers and went up a ramp into another part of the ruins of Ostagar. She stopped there and looked over the part of the ruins she just came through. She only saw a few elves, all flat-ears, and so many shemlen. Never before had she felt so alone in her life. There was no place she would fit into here, and she would definitely not cower in front of shemlen as did her lost brethren. The looks the humans shot her were enough to tell her how much they looked down on her. She clenched her fists. How could a pathetic race, with no sense of honour and pride, have delivered a fatal blow to her ancestors was a mystery to her. All she could see was their weakness. There was no order, no sense of belonging. To her, the Vir Tanadahl was the path to follow, like to all Dalish, but these humans knew nothing about that. Couldn't they read the signs of nature? The warning that was shouted into their direction? They seemed deaf and blind to everything around them, yet they saw themselves as superior. She scoffed and fought back a snarl. The dark whispers inside her grew and threatened to overwhelm her. Vehemently she shook her head and turned around, she had a duty, and she would take it seriously.
Soon Maylea heard two angry voices and she turned in their direction. A man wearing a dress was arguing with a man clad in metal and the latter, she surmised, was Alistair. The robed man roughly shoved her aside as he stomped past her. The dark whisper in her mind got louder and demanded to take down this man and spill his blood, as she heard heavy footsteps approaching.
Alistair saw the woman as soon as the mage nearly ran her over and froze. They had heard rumours that Duncan was bringing a new recruit and that said recruit was Dalish, but he never thought that it was true. 'Say something!' he mentally shouted to himself.
"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he blurted out and winced inwardly at his foolish sentence, but the elf only cocked a brow.
"You are a strange human," her voice was even, though he could sense some strain in it.
"Wait, we haven't met, have we? You don't happen to be another mage?" he asked and again, she stared at him coldly, nearly making him wince.
"Nae, we haven't met. You must be Alistair."
He was surprised about the confidence she showed and nodded, "Yes, and you must be Duncan's newest recruit."
"Yes. My name is Maylea."
"You know, we never had many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is."
She gave him a calculating look and then crossed her arms in front of her chest. Under different circumstances he would've laughed at the way it looked, but the dead-serious look she wore on her face stopped him from doing so.
"Perhaps because we are too smart for you," she offered in a dry tone.
A smug smile tugged at his lips, "And yet you are here. What does that make you?"
Obviously his humour was lost on her. "Incredibly unlucky," she stated dryly.
"Ouch!" he said and winced, but she remained unimpressed.
"Tell me, have you ever encountered darkspawn?" he attempted to change the topic.
"Yes. Just recently," she said.
She was not a very talkative person Alistair guessed and pursed his lips.
"Let's go back to Duncan. I bet he is eager to continue. Have you found the other recruits yet?" he asked and she shook her head.
"Then let's go."
He went down the ramp and then turned to the right, walking up to a strangely clad woman who spoke to a group of men. Alistair approached another armoured man and talked to him.
"Down there, that's Daveth. Go and fetch him," he told her and with a nod she turned and left.
"Is she Dalish?" she heard the man behind her whisper to Alistair.
"Yes. Maylea. Come, Duncan wants to proceed."
But as soon as both had turned around, shouting rose from behind them.
Maylea concentrated on the yearning of the darkness within her mind. She wanted to push it back and lock it there, but with each hour she spent, it only grew stronger. Alistair's voice had just been a bare whisper, reaching her ears through fog. Duty - that was all she could focus on right now. She had failed Tamlen, she wouldn't fail anyone else. She saw the man he had told her to fetch, but she didn't reach him. Rough hands grabbed her from behind and hauled her off of her feet.
"Look at what we have here. A knife-eared bitch dressing up. And this armour... what's it made of?"
She didn't see who spoke, but she smelled him. He reeked of old sweat and foul teeth, mixed with used up adrenaline and fear. Other men laughed nearby and she gritted her teeth. 'Duty, you have...' she tried to keep her mind straight on it, but her thoughts were interrupted.
"How about we show her where she belongs?"
The tone alone fuelled the dark whispers in her mind like dry straw would feed a fire. 'Dread Wolf take the duty.' She thought and threw her head back. It collided sharply with the man's face and he dropped her to the floor.
"Len'alas lath'din," she seethed, tasting her anger bitterly on her tongue. The man held his nose and cursed violently, but his bumbling movements made it too easy for her to see all his weak spots. She grabbed his wrist, whirled around him and with a rough jerk dislodged his shoulder. A loud cry of agony alerted nearby soldiers, but she didn't care. The dark whisper inside her rose to a chant, echoing louder with each heartbeat until all she could hear was this strange voice.
"I'll snap that useless neck of yours you damned bitch!" he roared and scrambled back to his feet. Alistair tried to elbow his way through the gathered watchers, shaking his head to the hollers he heard - "Teach that knife-ear!"
He didn't have to see which 'knife-ear' they meant to know who it was. The tingling sensation in his brain, one he felt around darkspawn, confused him. He shouldn't feel it this close...not unless... Maker! She had said she fought darkspawn, could it be...? He tried even harder to get to the front.
"You are dead, bitch!" He heard someone growl and the answering hiss sounded like from another world. "Ar tu na'din." He didn't know what it exactly said, but he caught the meaning of it. He saw her dancing around the soldier, it seemed so unfair if you looked at the difference in size, but she knew exactly where to strike. She only used her fists, no weapons, and still she was able to fell him. As he lay on the ground again and she hovered over him like a cat ready to strike, Alistair had reached the front row. She had her foot planted on the man's neck. He knew even though she seemed so fragile, just stomping down her foot would kill the man. "Halam sahlin, shem." Her teeth were bared and her nostrils flared in anger, but before she could stomp down Alistair had grabbed her arm and hauled her away. "Maylea, no!" he ordered sternly and froze as he looked in her face. She was already tainted, even more than he had feared. What had Duncan thought?
"You, get yourself to the healer. And perhaps it would be good for your health to not threaten random people," he told the soldier who spat at the ground in front of May.
"That witch should die for what she did!"
"Pardon me, Ser Knight, but it was you who approached her. She only defended herself," said Daveth as he stood with a smug smile next to Alistair. Seeing how so called 'authority' got beaten up always made his day. "And I doubt King Cailan would be pleased to hear that you had attacked a Grey Warden," he added, causing the soldier to pale.
"G-Grey Warden?" he stuttered and took two steps back. Alistair couldn't help but snicker as he saw the man's reaction. "You all! Don't you have something better to do? There are enough preparations to be made!" Alistair called out and the gathered mass dissolved. He sighed in relief as everything went back to normal. Maylea yanked herself free of his grip, her mind still burning with the dark desire to kill. "Duncan waits," Alistair simply said, and all of them walked towards the fire. Jory kept a safe distance from the elf, while Daveth seemed to move close to her.
"What was that trouble about?" Duncan asked and looked at Alistair. "One of the soldiers attacked Maylea. Obviously, some of the men think they can do with the elves as they please."
"Did you...?" Duncan asked her and she shook her head. She clenched her fists and kept her gaze locked to ground. She still heard the voice in her head, clear as a bell, urging her to shed blood, to leap at the dark skinned man in front of her and slay him but she fought back. That the others were talking about something they had to do had escaped her notice. As Duncan shoved her bow and quiver at her, her gaze snapped up to his face. She saw worry in his eyes and frowned, confused, but he only nodded his head towards a gate. She turned and started to walk away, Daveth and Jory behind her, while Alistair remained next to Duncan.
"She is already tainted and it has spread. How comes she still lives?" Alistair asked silently and Duncan frowned. "It had been her Keeper's old magic to slow it down. I hope that the Joining can fix it. Perhaps she will be better with her new senses than I am, but first she has to survive. The whispers of the Archdemon surface in her, I can sense it. Make haste Alistair; I fear we don't have much time left."
"Maker watch over you, Duncan."
"May He watch over us all."
Alistair hurried after his charges and caught up with them just as the gate opened. "Remember, three vials of darkspawn blood and the treaties," he said and the men nodded, while the elf simply focused on their way ahead. Frowning at her behaviour they followed, while she marched on without looking at them.
"What's wrong with her?"Jory asked wearily and Alistair shrugged.
"I guess she doesn't like human company," he suggested and Daveth snickered.
"Or she just doesn't like knights," Daveth grinned and hurried after her. May lead them better through the maze of the Wilds than any compass. Alistair was astonished and a bit scared – though he wouldn't admit it – of the way she fought. She shot her arrows with deadly precision, not wasting any moments with talk but keeping their backs safe.
But it wasn't without trouble for her. The scar on her lower arm burned like fire and sent waves of agony through her body with each time she spanned her bow. 'Don't fail them,' she thought and bit back a gasp of pain. The singing in her mind became stronger and shot needles of pain in her head for each beast that fell. As the last of the group of darkspawn fell to the ground dead, she took her glass vial from Alistair and filled it. Daveth didn't waste any time to mimic her, but Jory stood rooted to the spot. With an aggravated growl she snatched the vial from his shaky hands and filled it, before harshly shoving it back into his hands.
"Seth'lin, you call yourself a warrior?" she scoffed and then looked at Alistair, "Where does Duncan think the treaties are?"
"In the ruins of a tower, but I don't know..."
"But I do. We passed by here a few weeks ago," she harshly cut him short and then marched off in a different direction while Alistair hurried after her.
"How are you holding up?" he asked and she shot a glare at him.
"What?"
"The taint. I can feel it inside you. How are you?"
"It's burning, but I have it under control," she answered, surprising herself with her honesty. He only gave a nod and remained silent otherwise. The elf kept surprising him even more. She really knew where to find the ruin and the chest. But the chest was empty.
If the hunter was taken aback by the sudden appearance of the swamp-witch, she hid it perfectly. And instead of squealing like a child like Jory – who nearly soiled his drawers – she demanded to be taken to the person who took the papers. Alistair still couldn't believe what she had done. Warily and with his hand on the hilt of his sword he followed them, readying himself to strike if needed.
As they reached the hut and the old woman turned to look at them Maylea paled.
"Asha'bellanar," she breathed and a short smile tugged at the witch's lips.
During the conversation that followed, Alistair had displayed his inability at diplomatic talk and for their own safety Maylea had kept the conversation with the witch short. In the end they got their treaties back and the woman called Morrigan accompanied them back through the Wilds until they saw the very gate they had left through. Not far from it she saw the wildflower the Kennel master had asked her to bring and picked it.
Back in the ruins, Duncan had had the mages prepare for the rite and Alistair was ordered to bring the recruits to the old temple. Maylea sneaked away to look how the sick Mabari was faring. The human smiled widely as she handed him the flower and she shook her head as he wanted to give her coins. She could feel that the dog was getting better, unlike her own condition. The pain and the whispers came in waves, growing and ebbing away, but each wave that came was bigger than the previous and she feared she would drown in it. Quickly she turned away and headed back to the ruins where she had found Alistair earlier that day. Her vision went blurry and she seemed to lose her grasp on herself. Jory and Daveth were bickering while Alistair stood like a statue and watched them. But as she approached his light brown eyes followed her movements. He could feel the taint getting stronger in her. He could feel her struggle to cling on to who she was. Hopefully Duncan was right and the Joining would help her.
Through sheer force of will she remained conscious, and a shiver ran through her body as Alistair recited the Warden's oath, something that reminded her too much of another oath, the oath of the Dales. As Daveth stepped forward to accept the chalice Duncan handed him and took drank from it, agony rolled through her body. She could hear the whisper in her head rise to a shout, something that demanded sacrifice, then Daveth fell and the voice ebbed away. She looked at Jory and his pathetic attempt to fight. Then the chalice went to her, and with a tired look on her face she drank from it. As soon as the tainted blood ran down her throat the pain flared up. It scorched its way down and then seemed to burn its way from the inside out. The voice in her head began to roar at her, and then she could see it, the source of the voice. A huge dragon, ugly and twisted, and it looked straight into her eyes. It roared at her and then she fell while blackness engulfed her.
No pain, but also no hope. Everything was gone. She heard sobs, her own sobs and fell to her knees.
"Lethallan... fight back..." a mere whisper reached her ears and she looked around, but saw nothing.
"Tamlen?" she asked, shocked by the weakness in her voice.
"Emma lath... you must fight back. Don't let it win," his voice was urgent and sounded so close. "Emma vhenan... where are you?" May asked and hastily looked around.
"I'm with you, love. Fight back. Don't let it take you as it took me. You must live..." his voice vanished and she reached out her hand into the darkness before her, only to recognise how alone she was.
With a gasp for air she shot up and the blackness disappeared. She looked into two human faces, Duncan and Alistair, who seemed to be relieved to see her awake. Alistair helped her back on her feet, "I'm glad you survived. In my joining only one died." She didn't pay much attention to what either of them had said and wordlessly took the pendant the younger man handed her.
"If you feel well enough, follow me. The King wants you to attend the strategy meeting," Duncan told her and she looked puzzled. Alistair simply rolled his eyes and left them, his shoulders slumped down. The older Warden looked how he retreated and then turned to leave too. May hurried after him. Being alone around humans here had been an experience she didn't want to repeat.
King Cailan really seemed like a child, especially among the company he had. The man next to him carried himself like a true leader, a man who had fought many battles. She looked at him warily. Something seemed wrong with him. Then he turned his head and looked at her, straight into her eyes. But he looked away just as suddenly.
A voice in her mind told her that she should feel caught, but she didn't. A gentle nudge against her shoulder told her to move and again she followed Duncan like a shadow, sorting through all the things in her mind. The voice was gone, as was the headache and the pulsing pain in all her limbs. She took that as a good sign. And to feel that her thoughts were free of that dark whisper was another good thing. But she felt a constant pull in the back of her mind, as well as a tingle in her newest scar. It changed a bit as they reached the fire and Alistair. It numbed.
"What? We're not fighting with you?" Alistair burst out and Duncan looked at him as if he was about to sigh and rub his temples.
"Alistair is right. We should be with you," May interjected and both men looked at her.
"It is the King's order, and I'm not acting against it. We must do whatever it takes to end the darkspawn... exciting or no," Duncan said sternly and Alistair crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no," Alistair announced and May cocked a brow. She imagined him in one of those ridiculous women's clothing she had seen on those preaching women around here and stifled a snort. That truly would look... funny.
"I don't know... It could be a good distraction," she said and he looked at her. An amused smile adorned his face, "Me shimmying down the rows of darkspawn? We could kill them while they were rolling on the floor laughing."
He was relieved that her temper had cooled, to see how she was ready to murder that soldier earlier that day hat scared him a bit.
"You two are going to light the beacon, no discussions," Duncan repeated and both nodded.
"May the Maker watch over you, Duncan."
"May he watch over us all."
Maylea left them to fetch her belongings and headed to the kennel to look after the dog. He seemed better already. "Aneth ara, emma Falon. Feeling better already?" she asked and it barked once. "Fine. I will see you after the fight then."
She shifted her pack and then turned around and walked back to Alistair. "May the Creators guide our path," she breathed and he looked at her.
"What?"
"Never mind, let's go."
They rushed over the bridge and Alistair was astonished at the grace she showed. Obviously her inner struggle against the taint had caused her to slow down. Now she seemed like a wild cat on the run. He had his problems with keeping up with her. Perhaps it was her lighter armour that allowed her such speed. But then he felt it, the rising tingle in his head and he stopped and looked down in the valley. He saw how the darkspawn poured in and clashed with Cailan's forces.
"Da'len!" - The Moment the word left Maylea's mouth, she clapped her hand over her mouth but it had the effect she wanted, he turned to look at her. "Come on! Time runs out!"
With a last glance down – and he swore he saw the King's golden armour – he followed her. They ran on and nearly ran into two men who came down the ramp that lead in the direction of the tower of Ishal.
"You... you are Grey Wardens, right?" the soldier asked and both nodded. "There are darkspawn in the tower, they came out of the ground and are everywhere!"
"Darkspawn? So far ahead of the horde?" Alistair asked and May shrugged.
"You two, follow us," she ordered and gripped her bow tightly. The tingle got stronger and nearly vibrated through her whole body, and then she saw them.
The Dalish bow sung and shot precise death to the creatures in her range, but there were always more coming. She frowned as she looked at her quiver. Slowly she was running out of arrows. "Maylea!" She turned around and barely managed to dodge a sword swing that would surely have behead her. The darkspawn – Hurlock, as Alistair had called it – snarled at her, but before it could lift its sword it was run through and roughly kicked aside. She blinked and saw Alistair with a smirk behind the dead body, "I thought I might lend you a hand."
Involuntarily she grinned and he winked, before he knocked down the next Hurlock with a shield bash. The mage shot down the last darkspawn in the area and May busied herself with collecting as many good arrows as she could. Cursing elfish under her breath, she removed the quiver from her back and tied it to her belt, fixing it on her right thigh. They repeated the same on the next 'floor' and then they stood at the base of the tower.
"Am I allowed to ask you a question?" Alistair asked, as he cleaned the hilt of his sword.
"Uh... yes," Maylea answered and he grinned. "What was it you called me on the bridge? Dalin?"
She blushed and looked on the ground. "It was Da'len. It's accented dah-Len," she explained, still blushing. He could see it even though it was dark and he only had the light of the torches.
"It's... well... It slipped out, I didn't mean to..." she mumbled and then frowned. "It's how we call our children. You reminded me so much of Fenarel... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."
He cocked a brow at her and then frowned, "Do I act like a child?"
"Nae! Creators, I know I shouldn't have said anything!" she whined and rubbed her forehead, but he playfully nudged her shoulder. "I'm kidding."
"I guess I have to learn a lot about your kind," she said and opened the door, "Wait here, I'll see if there are any traps."
Alistair watched her until she disappeared around the corner. The smile on his lips died away as he felt the darkspawn within the tower. He felt uneasy, they needed to make haste and the fact that darkspawn were already here made it worse.
"Clear!" Maylea called out and the three men joined up with her. They were greeted with an emissary and a few Hurlock archers. The elf attacked the darkspawn mage and Alistair focused on the ones that targeted her. Floor after floor they cleared, and just as they reached another level Alistair shook his head.
"What are they doing here anyway? There shouldn't be any darkspawn ahead of the horde."
"I thought you wanted to fight," May replied and he nodded.
"Yes, that's true. Maybe there is a silver lining to it after all. Anyway, we need to hurry. We need to light the beacon to signal Loghain's men."
"Elgar'nan," May sighed and shook her head, "Let's go."
They stumbled over many corpses. The soldiers in the tower didn't stand a chance against the darkspawn. "Falon'Din guide their souls," she breathed and looked up at the next flight of stairs. "Shouldn't we be at the top already?" she asked tiredly and Alistair nodded.
"That should be the top."
As they opened the door they froze. "Creators, what's that?" May asked. "An ogre," Alistair whispered the reply, unable to look away from the beast. Her hunter training kicked into gear and immediately she looked for weak spots. Harshal had impressed it upon her that it was essential to see the weak spots in her prey before it could run away or attack her. "Distract it," she said and slung her bow over her head, before drawing her two blades.
"What?"
"Distract it! Trust me!" said and dashed behind a pillar, to wait.
"You heard her! Stay out of its reach!"
And so their dance began. The three men kept the ogre fixed on them while Maylea rushed forward and back, like a weasel, and cut in the sensitive skin at the joints. The beast was nearly down as it roared out in pain again at another cut and threw his hands around wildly. It hit Lea right in the chest and threw her against a broken pillar. But the ogre stumbled backwards and Alistair took his chance. He ran at the beast, gave it a knock with his shield and then rammed the sword right into its head. With a grunt he twisted the blade and ripped it free, before he leaped off of the corpse and looked around. The mage helped the elf back on her feet and supported her, as she hobbled over to her fellow Warden.
"Can you... ugh... light the beacon?" she asked. Alistair he shook his head, "I lost my cinder."
"But I can," the mage offered and set the dry wood ablaze. They heard many feet running up the stairs, but the tingle both of the Wardens felt was more than just a bad sign.
The mage was the first to fall, his robes offered no protection against arrows, the second had been the soldier, and at least the broken neck was a swift death. Alistair saw how the arrows felled his companion and tried to reach her. He felt many cuts and a few arrows and had nearly reached her before darkness engulfed him.
Wake up, Lethallan... you have much to do...
Slowly she regained consciousness and opened her eyes, blinking at an unfamiliar ceiling above her. She sat up and tried to focus, only to see the woman they had met in the wilds rummaging around in the room. "Ah, so your eyes finally open," she said, sounding strangely relieved, though the tune of her voice didn't match the look in her eyes, "Mother was starting to worry."
"You... you're the woman we met in the Wilds..." Maylea muttered and the woman came over to her bed.
"Yes. My name is Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. Do you remember mother rescuing you from the tower?"
"I... I remember being overwhelmed by darkspawn..."
"Hmm... much the same with your friend," Morrigan stated, a short displeased grimace rushing over her face.
"My friend? You mean Alistair?"
"The suspicious dim-witted one who had been with you, yes. He's outside. Mother wished to see you when you awoke."
"What had happened?" May asked and tried to remember what happened after Alistair had slain the ogre.
"The man who was supposed to join the battle at your sign, quit the field. All that remained were slain."
It took a while for the matter to sink in; then she blinked. "Thank you, Morrigan," Lea said and sat up, looking for her armour.
"I... you're welcome. Though mother did most of the work, I am no healer."
It took her a while to get dressed, her movements were shaky and slow. Only the faintest marks remained where the arrows had hit and her stomach clenched as she thought about it. As she was dressed she slowly left the hut.
"There is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man," The old woman said and Alistair turned, looking at the Dalish in disbelief.
"You... you live? I thought you were dead for sure," he nearly whispered.
"I am not, thanks to Morrigan's mother," she said, shortly looking at said person.
"Oh this all doesn't seem real. Duncan, King Cailan... dead... If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower."
"Do not speak of me as if I'm not present, lad," she chided, though her voice missed the sharpness which usually was supposed to be behind such words.
"But how should I call you? You haven't told us your name," he defended himself and the woman looked at him, as if she was choosing her words carefully.
"Asha'bellanar," Maylea whispered and the woman smiled at her.
"The People are well informed," she said and then turned to look at Alistair. "Names are pretty but useless. But the Chasind-folk call me Flemeth, I guess that will suffice," she stated and he looked at her with wide eyes.
"The Flemeth? So Daveth was right, you are the Witch of the Wilds!" Alistair said and fought the urge to step back.
"I know a bit of magic, but it served you both well," she said flatly.
"Who cares what she is? We need to do something," Maylea cut in. All the things that happened were still trying to fit into the right places of her mind, but her Keeper had told her she'd make her clan proud, and she wanted to live up to that. Flemeth nodded and Alistair frowned, "Why would Loghain do such a thing?"
"Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature."
"There is a blight we need to stop," May said toneless.
"All by ourselves? Never had a Blight been stopped without the alliance and forces of several nations! How will we do that?" Alistair nearly barked at her.
"What? How to stop the blight or to raise an army? Those are two different things, if I see right," Flemeth said and Maylea frowned.
"We could go to Arl Eamon. He hadn't been at Ostagar, so he still has all his men! And he was Cailan's uncle, so he has the greatest interest in seeing Loghain pays for what he's done."
"And you think that this... Arl... would believe us more than the trusted general?" Maylea asked and remembered the strange look in Loghain's eyes, the strange recognition they had shown as he had looked at her.
"Arl Eamon is a good man, I know him. He will believe us," Alistair insisted.
"What about the treaties Flemeth gave us?" she asked and the witch smiled approvingly.
"There is a smart lass."
Alistair's face brightened. "Of course! The treaties! The Grey Wardens have treaties signed by the dwarves of Orzammar, the Circle of Magi and the Dalish elves, promising us support in times of a Blight!" His expression was excited and May saw the glint of hope.
"I may be old, but dwarves, mages, elves, this Arl... that does sound like an army to me," Flemeth said and smiled, this time it seemed more honest then at their last meeting.
"Can we do this? Can we gather an army?" Alistair asked, suddenly not so confident anymore.
"Why not? It's what Grey Wardens do," May stated, not feeling utterly confident too, but sitting around idle wouldn't help in the least.
"So are you two ready? Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Flemeth asked and both nodded.
"Yes, thank you for your help, Flemeth," the elf said, though she still didn't know what to make out of that woman. She didn't trust her, but she had saved their lives after all.
"No, no. Thank you. You are the Grey Wardens here. But there is still something I can offer you," she said and looked at the door of the hut, where Morrigan just left.
"The stew is bubbling, mother. Will we have two guests for supper, or none?" she asked and Flemeth shortly grinned, the strange look she wore the last time they met reappeared in her eyes.
"The Wardens will leave shortly, girl. And you will join them."
"How sad... what?" Morrigan snapped and stared at her mother.
"You heard me quite right. The last time I checked, you had ears. You've been itching to get out of the wilds for years; this is your chance to do so."
"But... this wasn't the way I wished it to be. I'm not even ready!" Morrigan argued but Flemeth shortly shook her head.
"You have to be ready. Together these two have to unite Ferelden against the Blight. Without you they will fail."
Morrigan blinked and then sighed, "I understand." Flemeth nodded and then turned to look at Alistair and Maylea, "And you? Do you understand? I give you what I value most to make sure you can reach your goal."
"We understand," May said curtly and Alistair nearly glared at her. The witch should join them? "Good," Flemeth said and looked back at Morrigan, who didn't seem to be very pleased.
"I will go and pack my things then."
With that she went back into the hut. Maylea kept her eyes on Flemeth while Alistair looked everywhere but at her. Then Flemeth looked her straight into the eyes and she felt unable to look away.
That moment she realised that Flemeth knew Marethari, knew the Sabrae-clan, knew that they travelled past, and knew that she had kept the animals of the Wilds away. She held her breath without realising she did so.
"Creators," she choked out and Flemeth looked at the door of her hut. Morrigan just closed it behind her.
"Be careful, mother dearest, and don't forget the stew. I would hate to return to a burned-down hut," Morrigan said as she returned with her package.
"Bah! It's more likely that all this place, including me and my hut, will be overrun by darkspawn!" Flemeth burst out, showing a bit more of her true temper.
"I... I only meant..." Morrigan stated, insecure for the moment.
"I know."
The outburst was concealed just as quickly as it had come.
"Do try to have fun dear," she handed her daughter a small bag and looked at her intently, "Bring them safely past the Horde."
She nodded and put the bag away, then turned towards the wardens, "I suggest a village not far out of the wilds. You can restock there, if you wish. I can point more things out to you, or I can simply be your silent guide."
"I have no problem with you as long as Alistair has none," Maylea said, eying her fellow Warden. "From the way he glares at me I do not need to ask," Morrigan scoffed.
"I... do you really want to take her with us, just because her mother says so?" he asked, obviously not pleased by the very idea.
"We need every help we can get," she answered and he sighed.
"I guess you are right."
"I am so pleased that you approve," Morrigan drawled, causing Alistair to glare at her.
"I guess we better get going," May said, placing a calming hand on her companion's shoulder. With a last silent 'ma serannas' to Flemeth they left.
Morrigan led them silently, Alistair followed like a ghoul and Maylea guarded the rear. The witch kept the pace up and they marched until the sun started to go down. The two women took care of a campfire and something to eat. May sighed as Alistair didn't react as she held out some bread to him. She shoved it into his hands and as he looked at her confused she put on a stern face, "Eat, Da'len." He looked at the bread and then slowly started to eat. The elf was worried about him, but she suspected she had been the same as Duncan brought her to Ostagar. As he lay down to get some sleep she turned towards the fire and carefully pulled her father's journal out of her pouch. She was so absorbed in reading that she didn't notice how the time passed by so she only got very little sleep. The next two days towards Lothering were the same. Alistair still wasn't talking and stumbled along the way, Morrigan remained rather silent and May trailed behind them.
Then, they heard barking. A Mabari came running towards them, wagging its stubby tail and then it turned around and growled. The elf took her bow and as soon as the first darkspawn reared its head she let an arrow fly. Morrigan laughed and seemed happy about getting some action. The fight was short and as the last lay dead on the ground the dog bounced back to them.
"He looks like the dog you helped at Ostagar," Alistair stated and May looked at him surprised.
"You know?"
"Of course. It seems he has imprinted on you. Call yourself lucky."
The elf crouched down and the dog nudged its nose against her outstretched hand. "Aneth ara, emma Falon. Mythal had been with you, my friend," she said and it barked.
"Is this mangy mongrel going to join us?" Morrigan asked and Alistair looked offended.
"He's not mangy. I guess he has been looking for you."
"So it seems. Do you wish to join us?" she asked and the dog wagged its tail.
"Then you are welcome, my friend."
It nudged her hand again and she scratched it behind the ears.
"He needs a name," Alistair said and looked at the dog, who barked in agreement. Maylea pursed her lips and looked at the Mabari.
"How about we honour the name of my mentor? The best hunter of my clan is named Harshal. Does that sound good to you?"
The dog barked and jumped around in front of her.
"Alright then, Harshal, let's go."
And only a short while later they entered a part of the old Imperial Highway. "We're not far now, we will reach the village within an hour," Morrigan stated and took the lead again.