Once again the Maker and Bioware owns and controls us all.
To Outrun a Horde
They were running. They were running and Garrett's sides were burning with the effort. He wasn't as fast as Marian. No one was. One would think she was part-Mabari with how she and Cael kept ahead of them all. Bethany was keeping pace with him, Carver lagging behind with Leandra, due to his injuries.
Leandra tripped and that's when Garrett first heard it; the excited whispers of Darkspawn. Their stench fouled the air with their whispers and the older mage nearly retched at the stench.
"Mother," cried Bethany and Garrett could see that the scouts were close to Leandra. At the same time he and Bethany cast a wall of fire, burning the darkspawn, the flames erupting a foul putrid smoke. Marian came out of nowhere, swords flashing as she cut one of the beasts in half, Carver sliding in beside her with his great sword cleaving two more.
Garrett bent to help their mother up and she dusted herself off.
"Maker, save us," she whispered, her amber eyes on Garrett, wide and fearful. "We've lost everything. Everything your father and I-"
"We have to get out of here while we still can," interrupted Marian, wiping the Darkspawn filth from her blades as she sheathed them.
"Marian-" started Garrett, glaring at his twin, but their mother's placating hand rested on his arm.
"She is right. We have to get moving."
"Why did we wait so long?" thought Bethany out loud, turning to her twin brother for support, but Carver reared on the defensive.
"Why are you looking at us? We've been running since Ostagar." Garrett looked behind him at the remnants of the Darkspawn scouting party looking for a way around the fire wall.
"Not to interrupt, but the Blight's not going to wait while we stand around chatting," interjected Garrett, turning his amber eyes back on his siblings. Leandra smiled at her son, the very image of Malcolm, but for her amber eyes.
"Please, listen to your brother," begged Leandra, weak from exhaustion.
"Well then, lead on," scoffed Carver, fixing his elder brother with an angry glare. Garrett narrowed his eyes at the younger Hawke.
"Men," cursed Marian, jogging on ahead again, Cael at her ankles.
"Wait," called Bethany, making Marian roll her eyes as she turned to face her family once more. "Where are we going?" asked Bethany, brows furrowed.
"Away from the Darkspawn. Where else?" scoffed Carver, rolling his blue eyes At his twin.
"And then, where? We can't just wander."
"As long as we're wandering away from the Darkspawn, I don't mind," muttered Garrett, more to himself than the young mage.
"We stay alive," declared Marian, walking toward her younger siblings. "That's the only thing we need to worry about right now."
"We could go to Kirkwall," suggested Leandra. Garrett and Bethany just looked at their mother shocked.
"Well, that wouldn't be my first choice," said Garrett, shaking his head.
"What? Why would we go there?" demanded Marian, looking at her mother as if the woman had fallen and hit her head on something hard.
"There's a lot of Templars in Kirkwall, mother," added Bethany, subconsciously edging toward her hulking twin brother.
"I know that, but we still have family there and an estate." Bethany sighed in defeat and shook her head.
"Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship," finalised Bethany, shoulder's slumped. Garrett put a reassuring hand on his sister's arm. They hidden in cities before. It was much easier than trying to hide in a tiny village.
"If we survive that long," grumbled Carver, walking off before Marian could get the chance to do so. "I'll just be happy to get out of here." Cael barked a warning, making them all turn. Garrett pushed Leandra in behind him as the stench hit him all over again.
"Darkspawn," spat Marian, unsheathing her daggers. With a curt nod, she and Carver ran into the band of wraiths, cutting a path through their numbers. Garrett called down lightning from the storm clouds overhead and Bethany froze the beasts where they stood.
The sounds of another battle reached the family's ears and Marian turned to see a red haired woman and a Templar fighting another band of Darkspawn. She was almost tempted to leave them to their own battle when one Hurlock sliced open the Templar's side, making the fool man drop his shield.
The red haired woman roared and tackled the Hurlock to the ground, slamming her fist into its hideous face repeatedly. She grabbed her sword off the ground and plunged into the Hurlock's face, spraying herself with the dark sticky blood.
"You will not have him," she growled. She leapt from the creature's corpse and took up the Templar's shield. She heaved him to his feet, her emerald eyes boring into his brown ones. "They will not have you," she whispered, as fervently as a Chantry sister.
Marian leapt into the fray with Carver at her back, their swords spray the air with Darkspawn blood. Garrett felt the earth beneath his feet rumble as Bethany sent the earth crashing into the archers. Garrett cast a few entropic spells on the scouts, draining them of energy and making them easy prey for his siblings and the red haired soldier.
As the last Hurlock fell, Garrett turned his attention on the couple they had rescued. The man was twitching under the soldier's hands while she tried to bandage the wound.
"Stop squirming, Wesley," admonished the woman, in a stern, motherly voice. "You will make it worse." Finally she helped in up and he glared at Bethany and Garrett, no doubt his Templar senses tingling with the feel of their magic.
"Apostate," spat the Templar. "Keep your distance."
"Oh, the Maker has a sense of humour. First Darkspawn and now a Templar. I thought they'd all abandoned Lothering," sneered Bethany from behind Garrett. Wesley's eyes remained on the older mage.
"The Spawn are clear in their intent, but the mage is always unknown. The Order dictates…" The Templar moved toward the two mages with determination.
"Wesley," sighed the red haired woman, shaking her head at the Templar.
"They are apostates," explained Wesley, trying to make the woman see. "The Order dictates.." Marian stepped in between the Templar and her siblings, her daggers still drawn and dripping with Darkspawn blood. Carver stepped in behind her, hand on his great sword wearing a ferocious snarl.
"Dear," placated the red haired woman, a calming hand on his shoulder. "They saved us. The Maker understands." Despite her calm words, Wesley continued to stare down Marian, her eyes icy blue as she glared daringly at the Templar. She'd suffered worse than he before, she thought to herself, hands tightening on the hilts of her blades.
"Of course," Wesley finally relented, stepping away to stand by the soldier who stepped forward with a weary smile.
"I am Aveline Vallen, and this is my husband, Ser Wesley," introduced the red haired woman, grasping wrists with Marian in the ancient sign of camaraderie. Aveline threw a meaningful look at her husband. "We can all hate each other when we're safe from the horde."
"The might of the Templars is fearsome indeed," scoffed Garrett, directing a glare at her bigoted husband, making Bethany smirk.
"So long as you know I stand with Bethany and Garrett, Templar," warned Marian, her eyes a fearsome blue. The Templar traded looks with his wife before nodding.
"Understood."
"For now we move with you," declared Aveline. "The road to the north is cut off. We barely escaped the body of the Horde."
"Then we're trapped," cursed Carver, kicking a stone out of his way. Leandra hid her face in her hands, shaking her head as she buried herself in her eldest son's arms. "The Wilds are to the south and that's no way out." Carver directed his tirade at Marian who watched him, hands on hips with a warning glare.
"Well I'm not running straight into the horde," spat Marian, shouldering past Carver. "We go south." Marian didn't look back to see if her family were following. Garrett and Leandra moved first, putting their faith in Marian's good sense. Aveline and Wesley followed them and Bethany approached Carver.
"Come on, brother," encouraged the mage, placing a hand on his arm. "It's best we stick together."
"What's it matter anyway? Why bother saying anything? Everyone just listens to Marian anyway. No one ever listens to me," grumbled her twin as he dragged his feet.
"Maybe because she doesn't act like a child when she's making a point," retorted Bethany, earning herself an icy blue glare.
The ogre crashed to the ground with a loud thud, Marian clinging to her daggers embedded in its neck. The beast twitched and Garrett pulled forth energy from the Fade, grasping the beast with spirit magic and he tore the beast in two, showering both himself and Marian with ogre blood.
"Really, Garrett?" cried Marian, as she stalked up to her twin, dripping in Darkspawn blood. "Let's just blow giant sodding Darkspawn up!" Garrett burst out laughing.
"I'm-I'm sorry," he managed through laughing fits. "I just can't take you seriously looking you just took a bath in Darkspawn blood."
"Sorry to interrupt," interjected Carver, drawing their attention to the large horde of Darkspawn moving their way.
"There's no end to them," lamented a drained Bethany slumped against a boulder with their mother and a haggard looking Wesley. Marian gritted her teeth, taking up position with Carver and Aveline, ready to battle the horde.
Something roared behind them, startling the little band of Blight survivors. From behind them a dragon reared, taking wing on the air. The Hurlocks below whispered in fear, scattering before the great beast. Those too slow to run fell under the dragon's flames. The dragon turned in the air, doubling back toward the group. It crushed a few stragglers in powerful, razor sharp claws before a blinding light forced them all to look away.
When they turned to face the dragon, weapons drawn the creature had disappeared, an eerily beautiful woman standing in its place. Her hair was white and swept back in an imitation of the dragon's sweeping horns. In her clawed gauntlet she still held the limp body of a Hurlock as she strode toward them with a seductive gait, an ironic smile on her lips and her swirling yellow eyes flashing wild and dangerous.
"Well, well, what have we here?" drawled the old woman as she drew close to the armed warriors. She smiled as she stepped inside Garrett's personal space, her cat like eyes enveloping his vision as she inspected him like a sheep at market.
A clatter of plate armour drew their attention and Aveline ran to a collapsing Wesley. The older woman seemed uninterested in the Templar, her attention solely on Garrett and Marian.
"Used to be we never got visitors in the Wilds, but now it seems they arrive in hordes," smirked the woman as she sized up the older Hawke twins.
"Impressive. Where'd you learn to turn into a dragon?" smirked Garrett. Flemeth chuckled as she eyed the carved staff on Garrett's back.
"Perhaps I am a dragon," shrugged the woman, leaning in closer to Garrett. The mage gulped, making Flemeth smile. "If so, count yourselves lucky that the smell of burning Darkspawn does nothing for the appetite. If you wish to flee the Darkspawn you should know you are heading in the wrong direction." The woman turned on her heel and began walking away.
"Wait!" called Bethany, striking forward ahead of her older siblings. "You can't just leave us here."
"Can I not?" muttered the woman to herself, turning to regard the family. "I spotted a most curious sight. A mighty ogre, vanquished. Who could perform such a feat? But now my curiosity is sated and you are safe, for the moment. Is that not enough?"
"You could show us that trick of yours," suggested Garrett with a shrug. "That looks useful." The woman chuckled.
"A mage with a sense of humour. You, I like. Tell me, clever mage, how do intend to outrun the Blight?"
"We need to get to Kirkwall, in the Free Marches," interrupted Marian. For some reason she didn't like the predatory way the old dragon-woman eyed her twin brother.
"Kirkwall? My, that is quite the voyage you're planning. Your king will not miss you, hmm?" The yellow cat eyes were on Marian now.
"The king is dead," shrugged Marian, unfazed by the woman's curious gaze. The strange woman smiled, tapping a gauntleted hand against her lips.
"Hurtled into the chaos you fight and the world will shape before you." Garret and Marian looked at one another, brows furrowed in confusion. She turned away from them, then, looking off into the distance. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide," whispered the woman to herself. She seemed to have made a decision of some sort, turning back to face the Hawkes.
"It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you yet."
"There must be a catch?" answered Garrett warily. The woman laughed again.
"There is always a catch," she observed. "Life is a catch. I suggest you catch it while you can."
"Maybe we shouldn't trust her?" offered Carver from behind them.
"We don't even know what she is," agreed Bethany, taking up side with Carver.
"I know what she is," interjected Aveline from where she was nursing Wesley's wounds. "The Witch of the Wilds." The words sent a shiver of superstition down Marian's spine.
"Some call me that," shrugged the witch. "Also Flemeth, Asha'Bellanar and Old-Hag-Who-Talks-Too-Much. Does it matter? I offer you this; I will get your group pass the Horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a Witch of the Wilds?"
"Should we trust her?" questioned Marian, ever practical, Cael growled from behind her legs.
"Wesley is injured," offered Aveline, tending to her squirming husband. "We'll never escape the Darkspawn."
"If you need to," whispered Wesley weakly, his brown eyes holding Aveline's. "Leave me behind."
"No!" growled Aveline, shaking her gore splattered hair. "I said I would drag you out if I had to and I meant it." Wesley smiled weakly at his wife squeezing her hand.
"Roast a few more Darkspawn for me and I'll do anything you like," shrugged Garrett, looking to his twin for the final word on the matter. Finally Marian sheathed her daggers and shrugged, stepping toward the witch.
"I have to reach Kirkwall first," she warned, eliciting a smirk from Flemeth.
"But you will do it," replied Flemeth with absolute certainty in her drawling voice. "There is a clan of Dalish elves camped near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari." Flemeth produced an oricalchum and lyrium locket that hummed with a sinister energy. Marian narrowed her eyes at the trinket, feeling the tingle of dark magic dance across her skin as she took the amulet and pocketed it in her leather armour.
"Do as she asks with it and any debt between us will be paid in full," finalised Flemeth, her wild eyes steady on Marian's face. With a nod the witch turned her attention on the rest of the group.
"Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter." The witch's eyes fell in Wesley, a look that Aveline didn't miss. The soldier stood between her fallen husband and the dragon-witch.
"No," she growled, her green eyes fierce. "Leave him alone."
"What has been done to your man is within his blood already," shrugged Flemeth, not at all fazed by the shield maiden.
"You lie!" screamed Aveline, drawing her sword on the witch, the blade barely a millimetre from Flemeth's throat.
"She's right, Aveline," gasped Wesley, wheezing another cough. "I can feel the corruption inside me."
"I take it this corruption is the permanent sort," scoffed Garrett, eyeing the Templar with an instinctual disgust. Marian waved her twin quiet.
"We can't afford that kind of liability," reasoned Marian. Despite her harsh, practical words her eyes were soft and compassionate as she looked at Aveline.
"No," cried Aveline, shaking her head, but she sheathed her sword, turning back to her beloved.
"The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden." Aveline's shoulders slumped at that. She'd been at Ostagar. The Wardens were dead.
"And they all died at Ostagar," sighed Marian, watching Aveline fight tears as she looked into her husband's dying eyes.
"Not all," argued Flemeth. "But the last are now beyond your reach."
"Aveline," wheezed Wesley. "Listen to me-"
"You can ask me this," protested Aveline, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. "I won't!"
"Please," begged Wesley, his eyes boring into her's. "The corruption is a slow death. I can't…" Marian knelt beside the couple, taking Aveline's hand in her own. Aveline's tear stained eyes looked up at the rogue whose own blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
"He's your husband, Aveline. I can't decide his fate." Aveline nodded once, setting her jaw as she stared into Marian's compassionate eyes.
"Be strong…my love," whispered Wesley, reaching up a weak hand to rest it on her blood stained cheek. With his other hand he pulled free his skinning knife, placing it above his chest. One final tear rolled down Aveline's cheek as she wrapped her hands around his hand and the hilt of the knife. Unable to watch, she closed her eyes as she plunged the blade into her husband's chest.
Garrett had to give the Templar credit. He didn't even cry out as the blade struck his heart. The man merely stared at his wife's face until his eyes could see no more. Aveline reached over and closed his eyelids, making it look as if he were asleep, but for the growing red stain on his Chantry tunic. Aveline rose then, moving away from his body, her face determined.
"Without an end, there can be no peace," consoled Flemeth. "It gets no easier," warned the witch. "Your struggles have only just begun."
