Hi. Thank you to everyone who has viewed, reviewed and added this story to their favourite/follow; it is greatly appreciated. I will probably not be able to add a new chapter quite as regularly as I have been doing at the moment. My studies start again at the end of the month and that requires writing essays of a different kind. I'm not entirely sure where this story is going or how long it will take me to complete it. What I do promise is that it won't be a direct retelling of the game play. I know it looks like it at the moment, but I have some ideas and twists for this story. I just hope I do not disappoint. I don't have a beta, but my husband rereads everything I wrote. If you spot an error in grammar or spelling, please let me know. Here goes... -Rosie-
Bioware owns Dragon Age and all that is affiliated with it.
They broke camp before first light the next morning. They were all eager to get on with their task and get back to the safety of the main encampment at the Ostagar ruins. Although Darcy had apologized to Daveth several times, he refused to speak to her and kept well away from her. Darcy on the other hand was completely the opposite of the day before and was talking animatedly with Alistair and Jory.
They encountered their first group of Darkspawn an hour after sunrise. Darcy had only heard descriptions of the foul beasts, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of them. Their shiny black skin was tough and leathery and hard, like armour, in areas such as the chest and stomach. The skin on their skull-like heads was stretched tight and they had no eyelids or lips which made it look like they wore a constant grin. They made guttural sounds in the back of their throats which almost sounded like mocking laughter and their blood was a thick, purplish-black colour that had the rotten sweet smell of decomposing flesh. Darcy sent a prayer of thanks to the Maker for her time spent in Antiva where she spent many days in training to expect the unexpected. It was one of El Cuervo's favourite sayings. That way you could never be taken by surprise. Darcy took a split second to assess the charging horde and then flung herself into the fray.
Alistair's concern for Darcy's safety soon evaporated. Duncan had been right that her innocence was deceiving. He watched as she flitted and rolled, jumped and twirled around her enemies wielding her dragonbone swords that made a keening sound as they slashed through the air. She used her entire body to fight; using her legs to kick out and fists to punch as often as her swords - graceful but deadly.
The fight was over quickly and they managed to collect the blood that they needed for the Joining ritual. Darcy was relieved, because it meant that all they needed to do now was find the old Grey Warden tower and retrieve the documents inside. Duncan had explained that they were treaties that enlisted the aid of the Dwarves in Orzamar, the Dalish elves and the mages in Kinloch Hold, the Ferelden Circle. The treaties were old and had been signed after the last Blight as a promise to unite if another Blight arose.
They arrived at the tower late in the afternoon on the third day of being in the Kochari Wilds. They had fought through several more groups of Darkspawn before finally arriving there. The tower was in ruins. Darcy only hoped that the chest which held the documents were still intact. Duncan had assured them that wards had been placed around the chest and that it should still be fine. It was not. The wards must have worn away through the ages and the chest was broken into. Nothing remained inside.
Darcy was still contemplating what their next move should be when she spied movement near the far side of the crumbling down ruins. She straightened up and moved closer, unsheathing her swords. The three men, who had been bickering amongst themselves noticed and stood quietly watching her.
Darcy saw nothing at first, but moved closer. A sound to the left made her look in that direction. A woman with pitch-black hair, dressed in leather trappings, artfully arranged to just about cover her breasts stood there. Her jewellery resembled those described in a book Darcy had once read about the Chasind that lived in the Wilds. The woman carried a tall wooden staff in her right hand. Pale yellow eyes stared at Darcy. So she is the one that has been following us ever since we entered the Wilds. The woman's eyes held challenge, but Darcy slowly sheathed her swords and took a more relaxed stance, but never taking her eyes off the other woman.
"What are you doing?" Alistair whispered next to her.
Darcy responded by holding her hand up to stop Alistair from speaking. The woman took this as her cue to step forward.
"You are trespassing, pray tell, what are your intentions? Are you thieves or poachers; I assure you neither will be tolerated." The woman had a haughty tone to her voice.
Darcy put her hands up; a sign that they meant no harm.
"We are Grey Wardens. This used to be a Grey Warden tower; we came to retrieve some documents that were housed here."
"Tis a tower no longer and your documents are clearly gone," the woman said shrugging her shoulders.
"Be careful," Daveth spoke up for the first time all day. His nose made an odd whistling sound and his speech was still impaired due to swelling. "I grew up around these parts. She is a Witch of the Wilds, you cannot trust her."
"Did you take our documents? I demand that you give them back." Alistair said stomping his booted foot on the ground.
The woman arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, but refused to speak to him. Darcy gave a warning glare at her male companions to be quiet.
"Please, forgive my companions. They are weary from fighting Darkspawn and lack of proper sleep. Clearly it is having an impact on their manners. My name is Darcy, may I know yours?"
A slight smile played on the woman's lips.
"Ah, such lovely manners, even here in the Wilds; it is refreshing. You may call me Morrigan."
Darcy returned her smile.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Morrigan, you would not perhaps know what happened to the documents that were stored in this chest?"
"I assume that my mother must have taken it."
"So you did take our documents!" Alistair said angrily.
Morrigan regarded him coolly, but still did not acknowledge him by speaking to him. Turning instead to face Darcy again she said, "I would be happy to escort you to our home if you wish to speak to my mother about the documents."
Darcy smiled and nodded, "That would be most kind."
"Are you crazy?" Alistair said gripping Darcy's arm tightly.
"Alistair, we need those documents."
"You cannot trust her. She is a Witch of the Wilds!" Daveth hissed again on her other side.
"There see, Daveth agrees with me, you cannot trust her, she is a Witch of the Wilds. One minute she is all nice and friendly and the next minute it's poof – frog time!"
"Maybe we should just head back to the camp and tell Duncan that the documents were lost." Jory said, eying Morrigan warily.
Darcy shook her head at the three of them. "Bunch of babies," she muttered.
"Look, Alistair, we need those documents. Morrigan's mother has them and I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation for it. If the three of you are too scared to come with me then go back to the encampment and I will go and get the documents on my own."
Alistair shook his head, "There is no way we are leaving you here on your own!"
"Then it is decided, we will go with Morrigan," Darcy said turning to follow the other woman.
It took them just over an hour to get to the humble little wood cabin that served as a home for Morrigan and her mother. To the front of the house was a large swamp covered in reeds and bulrushes, a dense forest spread to the back of the house and to the right was a small hill covered in long grass.
Morrigan's mother was a frail looking woman with wrinkled skin and silvery grey hair, but her eyes belied an ancient wisdom and cunning that made Darcy wary.
"Ah, much as I expected," the woman said.
"Are you saying you have been expecting us?" Alistair asked; a hint of panic in his voice.
"We must leave now, this is Flemeth; I knew this was a trick!" Daveth shouted.
"Daveth, calm yourself," Darcy scolded.
Jory stayed well back and Alistair eyed the woman warily.
The old woman chuckled, her voice sounded ancient and it rasped when she spoke.
"Flemeth, you say? I am just a poor old woman living with her daughter. Does that make me Flemeth? Perhaps." She had the same pale yellow eyes as Morrigan.
"I knew it, we're all going to be croaking before the day is over," Alistair mumbled.
The woman chuckled again, "Are you all so quick to believe the old stories?" she turned to face Darcy, "what of you, child, do you believe in stories?"
Darcy regarded to woman evenly, "I believe that a person should not be judged by appearances alone. Whether you are the witch of legend remains to be seen."
The woman threw her head back and laughed, "Oh you are wise beyond your years, clever child. Now tell me, what can an old woman like me do for you?'
"We came searching for some treaties that were stored away in a Grey Warden outpost not far from here, but when we found the outpost, the chest that should have contained the treaties were broken into and the documents were gone. That is where we met your daughter, Morrigan, who suggested that you might know something about it." Darcy said. The woman made her feel uncomfortable, but she was not about to let her know.
The old woman seemed to look right into her soul with those piercing yellow eyes of hers. They seemed almost otherworldly.
"It so happens that I do have the documents that you speak of. I have kept them safe after finding the chest broken into as you have described. I wondered when the Grey Wardens would come to collect them."
Out of her pouch she carried at her side, she produced a bundle of documents wrapped in string and handed it over to Darcy. The vellum was old and yellowed. Darcy took the parcel with great care, fearing that it might disintegrate if it was handled too roughly. She stored it away in her pack.
"Tell your Commander that the threat the Darkspawn poses, should not be underestimated."
"Thank you for guarding these for us and I will convey your message to our Commander," Darcy said as she accepted the documents. She wanted to ask what the old woman meant, but she didn't think she would get a straight answer.
"Clever and well mannered too, isn't that something, hey Morrigan?" The old woman said holding Darcy's silver eyes with her own yellow ones.
"Indeed, Mother, 'tis a rare thing these days," Morrigan said in a bored tone. She gave Darcy one final glance and disappeared into the cabin.
"Please, feel free to camp here tonight. It will be dark soon and it is much safer here. I will send Morrigan with you in the morning; she will show you a shorter route back to your encampment."
"Oh no, no we are not!" Alistair said glaring between Darcy and the old woman.
"Alistair, camping here is a good idea. If we leave now it will be dark before we can set camp and besides, Morrigan can show us the shorter route home in the morning. Do you really want to face more Darkspawn? We could all do with a good rest." Darcy stared intently into Alistair's eyes. Stop acting like a fool. She thought at him.
"Well, don't let me decide for you. Stay, go, do as you please, my offer stands." The woman said with a smile before turning and entering the little cabin.
By the time Darcy convinced her companions that it was a good idea to camp next to the little cabin, it had turned dark and all other objections to the idea became a moot point. Darcy offered to take first watch and the three men had sulkily retired to their bedrolls for the night. Darcy had no intention of waking the sleeping men; hoping that a good night's sleep would improve their moods. Darcy was trained to function with only the minimum sleep. The secret to being a good assassin was to be always vigilant and even when asleep, Darcy was always aware of her surroundings.
She sat in quiet contemplation whilst cleaning and sharpening her swords. Caressing the beautiful carvings that depicted her family history on the pommel of one sword, she let her thoughts have free reign. So many things have happened since her escape from Castle Cousland. She could hardly believe that only two weeks have passed. She wondered what the real reason was for Morrigan's mother having the Grey Warden treaties. Whatever the old woman was, she was most definitely not just an old woman. Of that Darcy was certain. The sound of soft footfalls made Darcy turn quickly to look behind her and was surprised to see Morrigan walking towards her. She carried a mug with something steaming in it.
"Can't you sleep?" Darcy asked as Morrigan took a seat next to her.
"I require little sleep. I thought I might bring you this tea to help you stay awake. It is your intention to keep watch the entire night and not wake these blundering fools that has accompanied you, is it not?"
Darcy accepted the mug from Morrigan and sniffed the contents. A strong, herbal smell assaulted her senses.
"What sort of tea is it?" Darcy asked curiously.
'Tis simply a mixture of dandelion, elfroot and deep mushroom extract designed to rejuvenate the body. Drink it or not, I do not care." Morrigan dismissed the mug with a wave of her hand.
"Thank you, it was very thoughtful of you." Darcy said and took a sip of the tea. It had a strong taste to it but it was hot and soothing.
"Think nothing of it."
"How did you know I was not going to wake the others for a watch?" Darcy asked.
"Because you seem to be less of a fool than these boys you travel with and besides, it is well into the second watch. If you had any intention of waking them; you would have done so by now." Morrigan scoffed as she looked at the three snoring men sleeping on the other side of the fire.
"You have been watching me from the house," Darcy stated. It was not a question, she had known for a while. Assassins were trained to be perfectly in tune with their environment and to note anything that was out of the ordinary.
"Indeed," was all that Morrigan said.
"In fact, you have been watching us ever since the wolf-attack three days ago." Darcy said. Again it was a statement.
Morrigan's eyes widened very slightly. An untrained person would have missed it, but Darcy did not.
"Yes," Morrigan confirmed.
"You are a shape shifter," Darcy said.
Morrigan turned to look at Darcy; her eyes wary.
"You are full of surprises. What do you know of shape shifting? It is classed as forbidden magic by your Chantry is it not?"
Darcy noticed how Morrigan deflected her question with another question and smiled inwardly. Her suspicions were confirmed.
"I had a rather eccentric tutor. Aldous believed that' knowledge governs ignorance,'" She made her voice deep and croaky imitating the old man's voice.
The corners of Morrigan's mouth quirked upwards, but she did not smile outright.
"Your tutor is a wise man."
Darcy felt a pang of sadness course through her heart as she thought of Aldous. The twinkling in his wizened eyes and smile that never quite left his mouth; to know that she would never see it again made her heart squeeze in pain.
"Your tutor lives no longer?" Morrigan asked; canting her head to the side as she studied the emotions playing over Darcy's face.
Darcy met Morrigan's eyes and held them, "I suspect you know more of my history than you are letting on. You were listening when I told Alistair while we were sitting by the river on our first night in the Wilds."
Morrigan turned to stare into the fire. There was a stony silence that stretched for several long minutes before Morrigan rose from her seat.
"Make sure you wake the fools at first light. We will leave soon after."
Morrigan did not look back at Darcy before she entered the cabin once more. Darcy was left to ponder all that had been said and not said.