IV. Cold Flame

Lilyth sat on one of the hard stone benches in the training area, watching silently as the rest of the Grey Wardens practiced their archery or trained with their swords, all in preparation for the coming battle against the darkspawn. She could tell that the men were anxious about it, by the way they nervously praised one another's skill, or hesitantly reassured each other that the battle would be fine. It seemed, to her, that they were terrified that the battle would, in reality, end in their deaths.

Though, it mattered little to her. If they were all to die, then so be it. She certainly wasn't going to die. Duncan could bring her to the Grey Wardens, but he certainly couldn't force her to sacrifice herself. Of course, she didn't truly think she was at any risk. He knew of her powers; surely he would know better than to stick her in the midst of all the fighting, where she would be an easy target. If he wished to use her magic to his advantage, he would place her above the fighting.

Lilyth leaned forward on the bench, watching as a man was hit too hard by his opponent's blunted sword. He crumpled to the ground, and the rest of the Wardens rushed over to him, shouting for a healer. She stifled a laugh as the men picked up their unconscious friend and took him over to the mages' tents. Since they were so distracted, they wouldn't bother her again for a little while, and she was pleased with that.

She had been informed earlier that day that the Wardens had wished to see her powers; that they had wanted to test her magical ability. But, of course, she had refused to comply. Duncan had warned her against using her blood magic around the camp. He didn't wish to cause problems with the templars, and Lilyth herself had no desire to parade her magic around a bunch of drunken fools. She had been tested over and over again in the Circle Tower; why should she wish to repeat the experience?

A few of the Wardens had grown angry, claiming that they needed to know where her strengths laid, so she had rattled off a list of her spells. She knew most of the spells along the Entropy field, as well as a few long the Spirit and Primal path, and had expected them to be impressed with her knowledge. Instead, they had been disappointed that she had no healing abilities. But really, why would she waste her time with such magic? There was little point in spending precious energy on a healing spell, when a potion would accomplish the same thing.

Lilyth pulled her legs up on the bench, rested her chin on her knees, and looked around the nearly empty training area. She found herself wondering what the Mistress would say if she saw Lilyth sitting here, amidst an army about to engage in battle. Bitch would probably laugh at me. Or rather, she would laugh if she did not try to kill me first.

The corners of Lilyth's lips twitched into a pleased smile. She'd place any amount on a wager that the Mistress was still furious at her for running way. Mistress Brinna certainly wasn't known for her forgiving nature and, even though it had been nine years since Lilyth had disappeared, she was most likely still angry. After all, Lilyth had cost her a lot of money. If their paths ever crossed again, the Mistress would most likely try to kill her.

But, really, what other option had been available to her? After eight long years of serving Mistress Brinna, Lilyth had grown tired; tired of all the horrid things she had been ordered to do. She had seen the dead, numb look in the eyes of her fellow pets, and had no intention of becoming like them. None of the fine clothes, luxurious surroundings, or exquisite delicacies could make up for that. And, though the Mistress had taught her many things–blood magic, how to carry herself like a highborn lady, and how to wrap almost any man around her little finger–in the end, it hadn't been worth it.

She heard rough steps on the hard stone and lifted her eyes to see the silent Grey Warden recruit, Aedan, stomping towards her. When he saw her, he jerked his thumb towards the Grey Warden camp. "You, come with me. Duncan wants to speak with us."

"What a polite way to summon me," she replied smoothly, seeing Aedan's frown deepen. She slid off the bench and smiled sweetly at him. She couldn't deny that he was a rather handsome man, and it was quite a lot of fun to tease him and watch his face darken. "I must say, all that intense brooding is really quite attractive. Do the women of your home swoon in appreciation when you scowl at them?"

"I don't have a home," Aedan snapped, her flirtatious comment flying right over him. "And King Cailan doesn't even seem to mind!" He twisted around and marched off towards the Warden side of the camp.

Well, now Lilyth was intrigued. Who was this man, that he expected the king to care about his problems? She caught up to him. "Why should King Cailan concern himself with you?"

Aedan glared at Lilyth with a dark look that seemed almost burning in its hatred. "My father was one of the two Teyrns in Ferelden; we Couslands fought beside King Maric against Orlais! My father was at the battle of White River and, if not for my family, King Cailan's father might never have gained his throne!" He clenched his fists; Lilyth could see his knuckles turning white. "That bastard Howe slaughtered everyone in the castle, and when I took his betrayal to King Cailan, all he could say was that he'd deal with it after the battle!"

Well, that certainly explained why Aedan had been sullen and withdrawn since Lilyth had met him; she studied the handsome young man with renewed interest. She had never known the names of many nobles. Those who came to Mistress Brinna generally wished to keep their identities hidden, but Lilyth did know that a Teyrn was second only to the king.

If his family was that important, she could certainly see why someone would attack them. Lilyth had been raised in a vicious world; she knew that people often had to fight to get what they wanted. Those who took the time to worry about others were often lost. "Did your family do something to provoke this Howe?" she asked pleasantly, as if remarking on the weather. "Or, did he merely desire your wealth and title?"

Aedan clearly didn't appreciate her casual tone. But, really, what did he expect? For her to stroke his arm, pretending to sympathize? "My family did nothing! Howe and my father were friends; what he wanted was my father's title and wealth." His dark green eyes were as hard as gems. "And, like a coward, he couldn't even face my father directly. Instead, he sent his men to sneak into the castle under the cover of night and slaughter innocents who couldn't defend themselves."

"What a childish plan," Lilyth remarked idly. "If he wished to take over an entire castle, one would think he would not send in his own men, since they could be easily recognized."

"He killed my family!" Aedan nearly shouted, as if that was the only point.

Lilyth shrugged, fingering the beautiful crystal amulet around her neck. Unbidden, the image of her baby sister, Letia, swam in her mind's eye. Lilyth would never forget the night she had walked into her home to see Letia's poor little crumpled body. She gripped the amulet tighter and narrowed her dark eyes. "Then, do not wait for the king to handle this for you." Her lips curved up in a pleased smile as she thought about her revenge against Daddy. "If you wish to make this Howe pay for what he has done, do it yourself."

Aedan studied her face with a look of suspicion, but said nothing.

oOo

Lilyth crossed her arms and looked around at the disgusting forest that was the Korcari Wilds, her irritation growing worse at the scene in front of her. Before sending out into the Wilds, Duncan had warned them to take care; the darkspawn had taken it over, and it was clear that he hadn't been lying. The remnants of their victims were everywhere she looked. She could see impaled soldiers, dead bodies, blood-soaked trees, and strewn weapons all over this little clearing. It seemed like a portrait of death, as if some artist had tried to depict what the Void might look like.

She shook her head to clear her mind of such folly and, ignoring the dead bodies scattered everywhere across the forest, turned back to look at the men sent out with her. They had a task to accomplish and, though Lilyth wasn't exactly pleased at being sent out on such an errand, she was eager to just be done with it.

Ser Jory, an idiot soldier who was yet another Grey Warden recruit, inhaled sharply and looked around. His already pale face looked almost waxy; the hands that gripped his large sword were shaking. "Is this... the work of the darkspawn?" Lilyth shook her head. Really, who did Jory think did this?

"Yes, Ser Jory," Alistair said. "There are darkspawn in these Wilds, but we'll be fine if we're careful."

Aedan glanced at the boy Warden. "Well, where do we go from here? Didn't Duncan send you with us to guide us through the Wilds?"

"No, he went me because Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. I'll be able to warn us when they come, so that we're not caught off guard."

Lilyth clicked her tongue impatiently and hopped down from the large rock she had been standing on, taking care not to land in any of the thick mud. Her black boots were thick and comfortable, and rather pretty; she didn't want to get them all filthy. She was acutely aware that all of her efforts would probably be for nothing–after all, not only were they charged with collecting darkspawn blood, but then they had to also seek out some ancient Warden outpost, which meant that they would be here for a while. Still, that didn't mean that she had to stomp around in the mud.

Aedan walked briskly past her, impatience evident in his tense shoulders. He didn't seem to appreciate this task any more than Lilyth did. "Alistair, how many darkspawn are here?"

"I don't know," Alistair said. "I'm only a new Warden myself; I can sense that they're here, but I can't tell how many."

Lilyth put her hands on her hips and regarded the boy Warden irritably. "Would it not have made more sense for Duncan to send one of the senior Wardens with us? Surely they would have been more of a help."

Alistair flushed a dull red and mumbled something incoherently. Lilyth pursed her lips and rolled her eyes with a sigh. As handsome and fun to tease as Alistair was, she was beginning to think that he was rather hopeless. What was Duncan thinking, leaving someone like him in charge, when half the time the boy Warden acted as though he had no idea of what he was doing?

A soft cry of pain pierced the misty air, and Lilyth's attention was drawn to a pile of what looked like blood armor. But, then it shifted, and she realized that it was a wounded man, curled up on the ground while he tried to staunch the blood flowing from his wounds.

Alistair rushed to the man's side and knelt down. "What happened?"

The wounded man rolled onto his back and looked up at Alistair through dull eyes. "You... you're a Grey Warden? The darkspawn... they came out from the shadows... killed all... all the men..."

Jory inhaled sharply. "Darkspawn? Where are they?" He glanced around nervously while Daveth slowly pulled an arrow out of his quiver and notched it. Both men were tense and anxious.

Alistair jerked his head up. "They're nearby!"

As if they were summoned by his words, a small group of darkspawn suddenly broke free from the shadows. It was the first time Lilyth had ever seen them, and she was fascinated by their razor sharp teeth and blackened skin. They wore armor like humans, and carried weapons like humans, but they weren't humans. Her first strange thought, as she took them in, was that they almost seemed like creatures straight out of a fairy tale. They looked as though their outward appearances reflected the dark souls of mortal beings, as if their bodies were a warning of the fate that awaited all men.

Alistair shouted something and ran towards them with his sword ready, his shield held up to block their attacks. Aedan and Jory followed behind him, while Daveth ran to a large bolder that gave him a vantage point. Lilyth made no movement at first; she stood silently, watching the scene before her, and counted six darkspawn in total. She had never been in an actual fight before; usually, if she was to kill someone, she preferred a dark night and a sharp blade.

It was obvious that the men stood the risk of being outmatched. Daveth had decent aim at best, and it seemed that Aedan and Alistair were the only ones pulling their own weight. Soon, they, along with Jory, were surrounded by the darkspawn, but Lilyth saw that the greatest danger came from a seventh darkspawn standing a bit away from them, casting ominous spells from a large wooden staff. Clearly, the mage would have to be taken out first, and Lilyth could only see one way to do that. Not wishing to use herself for such a task, she glanced down at the wounded man, who had curled up into a frightened ball at the first sign of fighting. Yes, he would do quite nicely.

She walked over to the hurt soldier and knelt down beside him as she pulled out the small dagger she wore hooked to her belt. The man lifted his head slowly; she watched as the flicker of hope crossed his eyes, replaced with a dawning horror as he realized what she was going to do. Lilyth smiled kindly at him, patting his cheek as, in one swift movement, she brought the blade across his neck. Her smile widened as his fresh blood washed over her hands.

Lilyth had forgotten how powerful blood could be. There was so much energy to give, so much life to be used! She closed her eyes in a dreamy haze of wonder as the blood began to swirl around her slim hands. She stood up and pointed a long white finger at the group of darkspawn. At once, the liquid power shot towards them in one long, bloody tendril, and twisted around the vile creatures.

The darkspawn were frozen in place, trapped as Lilyth's power forced their own blood to boil and bubble. She could feel the electrifying energy charge through her body, so strong and heady that, for a moment, she felt as though she were invincible. The darkspawn began screaming, shouting helplessly as their own bodies began to work against them. Lilyth noticed that out of all her companions, Aedan was the only one who didn't bother to hesitate at seeing the darkspawn frozen. When he realized that his enemies were trapped, he quickly finished them off with his blades.

Soon the darkspawn were dead; Lilyth pulled back on the chain of blood and watched the red power swirl and dance around her hands. She had forgotten the potent feeling of blood magic. It had been so long; so very, very long.

Reluctantly, she released the blood from her command and watched, almost mesmerized, as it dropped towards the ground, staining the dull grass with bright droplets of red. Lilyth closed her eyes and sighed in contentment, enjoying the spark of power that still danced through her veins, sending shivers down her spine.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw that the men were all staring at her warily, as if she had suddenly grown a second head. Still somewhat drunk on the charge of power, Lilyth felt herself smile brightly at them.

"Was that... blood magic?" Alistair whispered nervously, as if the very words might summon a demon.

"Of course. What else would it be?"

Jory and Daveth looked as though they might faint, but Aedan simply watched her with a suspicious sort of curiosity, as if he didn't know what to make of her. Alistair gripped his sword tighter. "You're a blood mage! Does Duncan know?" he demanded.

She couldn't help but giggle at his horrified expression. "Of course he does. Why do you think he brought me to the Grey Wardens?"

"Duncan... wished for you to use your blood magic?" Aedan asked slowly.

The spark of power was slowly draining away; Lilyth could feel herself becoming a bit more grounded. She lifted her chin and studied him thoughtfully. "He told me that the Grey Wardens must use any power at their disposal to combat the Blight, and that Wardens of the past have used blood magic."

"But the Chantry forbids it!" Jory suddenly burst out.

Lilyth glanced up at him through lowered eyelids. "The Chantry forbids quite a lot."

"What about demons?" Aedan asked curiously.

She waved a hand dismissively. "As if I would be foolish enough to pledge myself to a demon. I learned my talents elsewhere." She had better things to do than educate these fools. One didn't need to contact a demon to learn blood magic, but the Chantry had everyone convinced that blood magic and possession went hand in hand. Such idiocy! Blood magic was magic, like any other. It was merely a tool–a powerful tool to be sure–but a tool.

For the first time, Alistair noticed the dead man. He speared Lilyth with an angry look. "What happened to him?"

"I killed him."

"Why did you do that? We could have helped him back to the camp! We could have bandaged him up!" The boy Warden stared at her as if she was some sort of monster.

Lilyth scowled at him. Was this what her life as a Grey Warden would be like? Explaining herself every step of the way? "I needed blood, or else the darkspawn would have killed us." She shrugged. "He was dying of his wounds anyway; why not give him a swift death which could serve a greater purpose?"

Alistair rounded on her, the red flush of anger coloring his face. "How do you know he was dying? You said yourself that you're no healer!"

"True, I am not a healer, but I can feel the energy of life, and his life was draining away. I could sense it in his blood." How many people had she killed throughout her life? She knew when a man would die from his injuries; she could smell death on a man's aura.

She looked down her nose and gave the four men a contemptuous glance. "Now, if you are quite done whining about everything, we have a task to finish." Without bothering to wait for a reply, she walked towards the dead darkspawn and began to collect their blood.

oOo

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they managed to find the ruins of the Warden outpost. Lilyth was eager to be done with this place; she had had quite enough of Alistair, Jory and Daveth mumbling about abominations, demons and maleficarum, wondering aloud if Lilyth was possessed, and hinting that perhaps she must have done something to Duncan to convince him to bring her to the Wardens. She toyed around with the idea of telling them that mind domination didn't work like they thought; if one had a strong mind, they couldn't be forced to do something against their will. But, then she thought to just leave them to their fearful muttering. As annoying as it was, part of her was amused by their fear.

Aedan walked over to the Warden cache, took one look and shook his head angrily. "It's empty. The treaties are probably long gone by now."

"Well, well, what have we here?"

A dulcet voice drifted around them lazily; immediately, they looked towards the sound and saw a beautiful young woman gliding down the steps of the old Warden outpost, her hands on her hips. "Are you vultures, I wonder?" she continued calmly. "Scavengers, poking amidst a corpse whose bones have long since been cleaned? Or merely intruders, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

Lilyth studied the young woman thoughtfully, trying to get the measure of her. It was clear that she was a mage, and a rather pretty one at that. Her tastes certainly didn't run towards women, but she did appreciate things of beauty, and this wild looking woman was quite stunning.

The woman's golden eyes flicked over Lilyth. "Well, what say you? Vulture, or intruder?"

Lilyth smiled sweetly. "I suppose there are some who would call me a vulture," she said pleasantly; amusement flickered in the woman's bright eyes. "However, in this instance, we are Grey Wardens, come to find something that was once hidden here."

The strange mage returned Lilyth's smile, and inclined her head thoughtfully. "And what you sought was in that chest? I take it that what you seek is here no longer?"

Alistair shook his head, and looked around at the Warden recruits. "Be careful. She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby."

"You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" the woman asked mockingly.

"Yes, swooping is bad," he muttered.

"She's a witch!" Daveth suddenly squeaked. "She'll turn us all into toads!"

Aedan scoffed and slid his daggers back into his belt. "Quiet, Daveth. If she wanted to attack us, she would have done so while we were distracted."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds!" Daveth protested. "We should leave while we still have the chance!"

"'Witch of the Wilds'," the woman murmured softly. "Such foolish tales, those are. Have you no minds of your own?" She glanced at Lilyth. "You there, women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Lilyth lifted her head arrogantly, smiling at the woman. This stranger was polite enough, at least towards her. There could be no harm in returning the favor. "Very well. I am Lilyth Surana." She inclined her head slightly in a greeting.

"Well, at least you are civilized. You may call me Morrigan." The witch crossed her long arms. "And so, to my previous question. What you sought in that chest has long been gone."

" 'Long been gone'?" Alistair repeated. "You stole those treaties, didn't you? You're... some kind of... sneaky, witch thief!"

Morrigan smiled; Lilyth could see amusement in her eyes. Oh yes, this was a woman that Lilyth could grow to like. She reminded her of one of the Mistress' other pets, a young elven girl named Chana; she was beautiful, deadly, clever as a fox, and the only one who could match Lilyth. Her way of speaking, and the amusement that had glittered across her beautiful face was similar to this witch.

"How very eloquent," Morrigan remarked, a hint of laughter at the back of her throat.

Alistair raised himself to his full height and glared at the woman. "Those treaties are the property of the Grey Wardens, and I suggest you return them."

But, the witch only frowned, as if he was nothing more than a fly, buzzing obnoxiously around her head. "I will not, for 'twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here anymore; I am not threatened."

"Alistair, this is getting us nowhere," Aedan said impatiently. He looked at Morrigan. "I assume you know who took the treaties?"

Morrigan smiled. "I do indeed. 'Twas my mother."

"Well, we need those treaties," Lilyth said. "Could you take us to your mother, or at least point us in the right direction?" The sooner they got those treaties, the sooner they could leave.

The witch's smile widened. "Now there is a sensible request. I like you."

Alistair grimaced. "I'd be careful if I were you, Lilyth. First it's, 'I like you', then... Bam! Frog time." He seemed to think about his words for a moment, then shook his head. "But, I suppose frogs aren't the worst things you've dealt with."

He was quite right, but Lilyth didn't feel like explaining anything to him. Instead, she merely slid her eyes towards him, smiling sweetly. "If you are referring to my blood magic, I would thank you to keep your idiotic comments to yourself."

"We already have one abomination with us," Jory whispered rapidly to Alistair, "and now we're going to follow this witch deeper into the Wilds? They're going to kill us!"

"Why, you are quite right, Jory," Lilyth said, as sweet as poison. She was really starting to grow weary with his stupid fears; the man was scared of his own shadow. How he ever got to be a knight was a mystery to her. "This woman and I are really working together, and we have decided to lure you all deeper into the woods, where we plan to kill you and eat your flesh." She almost snickered to see how pale Jory got.

Morrigan laughed and studied Lilyth with renewed interest. "At least one of you has a glimmer of intelligence." She turned and walked further into the forest. "Follow me, if it pleases any of you."

Jory refused to move. "I tell you, we're going to be killed!"

"Then stay here," Aedan snapped.

Lilyth glided after Morrigan, with Aedan right behind her. In the end, the other three had no choice but to follow.

oOo

It took them only about a half hour of walking to reach a small clearing where Lilyth saw a little hut set back against the trees. She assumed that this was where Morrigan's mother lived and, sure enough, as they approached she saw an old woman standing in front of the hut, as if awaiting their arrival.

Morrigan walked up to the old woman. "Greetings, Mother. I bring before you five Grey Wardens, who—"

"I see them, girl," the old witch said shortly. She looked around at them. "Mm, much as I expected."

"Are we supposed to believe that you were expecting us?" Alistair asked.

The old mage chuckled. "You are required to do nothing, least of all believe."

"She's a witch!" Daveth squeaked. He was starting to give Lilyth a headache. "She's going to put us all in the pot!"

"Shut it, Daveth," Aedan said harshly, who seemed almost as impatient as Lilyth was. "If she's really an evil witch, making her mad isn't going to help anything."

Morrigan's mother smiled at him. "Now there is a smart lad, but it is sadly irrelevant to the greater things. Believe what you will." Her yellow eyes landed on Lilyth, and her amusement seemed to grow. "And what about you? Does your elven mind give you a different view? What do you believe?"

Lilyth could feel a wave of pure, ancient power emanating from this strange old woman. Her aura was strong and magnificent; she had to be even more powerful that Mistress Brinna, who had been one of the strongest mages of the Tevinter Imperium. Lilyth could barely contain her excitement. Who knew what secrets this woman held?

She lifted her head a bit higher and smiled. "It matters not what I believe or do not believe; there are some things that must be accepted."

The old woman laughed, as if she had caught the double meaning in those words; the hint that Lilyth was not some slave of the Circle Tower, but a mage who sought answers for herself. "Ah, there is the response I hoped to get, from a mind not made of mush."

Alistair chuckled nervously. "So this is the dreaded Witch of the Wilds?"

" 'Witch of the Wilds'? Did Morrigan tell you that?" The wild mage laughed mockingly. "She fancies such tall tales, though she would never admit it."

Morrigan groaned. "They did not come to listen to you babble, Mother."

"True enough. You came for your treaties?" Morrigan's mother reached into the large pocket of her dress and pulled out three weathered scrolls. "Before you begin barking at me, your precious seals wore off long ago. I have protected these." She handed the scrolls to Lilyth.

"You... protected them?" Alistair asked.

"Why not? Take them to your Grey Warden leaders and tell them that this Blight is a greater threat than they know."

Lilyth tucked the scrolls under her arm and sniffed arrogantly. "I have come to believe that there is much our Grey Warden leaders don't know."

The old woman's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Such disdainful remarks from such a young woman. I wonder where your critical mind comes from."

"A life of reality," Lilyth replied.

"I can see that." Morrigan's mother studied Lilyth's face thoughtfully; for a single, uncomfortable moment, it almost seemed as though the old woman could read her past as if it was written on her face. "I can see what has brought you here. But tread carefully, girl. The light of clarity can at times blind you."

Lilyth shrugged, as if the words were meaningless to her, rather than an ominous warning. "Not if you stand in the shade."

The old woman's laughter echoed through the trees; Morrigan stepped forward with a smile on her face. "It is time for you to go; allow me to guide you through the forest."

Lilyth ignored the old mage and followed Morrigan back along the path. She tried to listen to Jory and Daveth's fearful muttering, wishing for anything to focus on to distract her from her thoughts, but she couldn't ignore the strange sense that the old woman was still keeping an eye on her.

A/N: Thoughts/comments on the battle scene would be much appreciated. It's the first time in about nine years that Lilyth has used her blood magic, so I wanted to focus on how she felt. But, I'm still learning how to write battle scenes, so if you notice something I should have done differently, please don't hesitate to tell me.

Many hugs, thanks and cookies to the awesome Suilven. She's been so patient to the messes I've sent her, and her suggestions have really helped my writing.

Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, or requesting alerts. It really means a lot!