A/N: And I am on a roll. You are all gonna be very disappointed when I run out of steam on this. And beforehand, I apologise profusely. I actually wrote this one right after Chapter 5, but I don't want to spoil you guys :P Also, I figured out how to make line breaks. YAY! I'm gonna keep the bold words though.

SnowHelm, you're making me blush. Stop it… Actually, keep going, I'm lapping that stuff up

The goat of power… Your enthusiasm both scares and exhilarates me. Keep it up. It makes me smile.

The rest of you… Shame. Shame on all of you.

So… Two chapters ending with a possible death in a row? I'm either a genius or an idiot. We'll say genius. It's a fuzzier feeling.

Chapter 6: Knight in Grey Armour

Remember when I said drowning was my greatest fear. It's actually suffocation. Drowning does this by filling your lungs with water and… well, drowning you. Hanging is different. For one, it feels like someone is trying to pull off your head. And failing. Then, the weight of your own body – and I have a lot of body – is the thing that's weighing you down, so you really want the guy pulling off your head to succeed. You're painfully aware that the rope around your neck is slipping tighter and tighter. And tighter. So tight it might even just burst your skull like a spot. You try to breathe, to scream, in pain. In fear.

Stop panicking. Stop being afraid. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. Look at me, I'm dying and I'm quoting Dune. Mum'd love that.

I kick out desperately but my feet are bound together. I can't see anything through this damn sack. I try pulling my hands apart but they're bound as well. If only I was double jointed in my shoulders, instead of my thumb. I keep trying, desperately. I can't give up.

The rope, when you fall, tightens around your neck and you feel the rope burn around your neck as it chokes the life out of you. Then there's your own blood working against you. Your lips start first. It feels like they're going to explode as you open your mouth like a fish. Your head begins to dim immediately, a dull throb as your brain cries out for oxygen. I can't hear a bloody thing. It's partially like being deaf, except all I can hear is blood thundering through my ears like drums.

Got… to… think… of… something…

Movement is slowing… can't… move…

Think dammit, think. Okay, okay okay. Brain is dulling… I can barely… Think…

DAMMIT CONCENTRATE!

I! AM NOT! GOING! TO DIE!

My rage washes over me and I focus on it. Rage is a hell of an anaesthetic right? Rage sharpens the mind. It pools out and it fills my every fiber. Wait, that's the key!

I click my fingers. And fire sprouts from my hands. It burns through my bindings in seconds and I slap my hands together above my head, grabbing the rope. Burn bitch.

The rope snaps and I fall, landing heavily. The last of my air is pushed out of my lungs and the world grows darker. I pull the noose, loosening it.

I inhale, the biggest breath of my entire life that tears my lungs to capacity, that burns my throat, that turns my world into a supernova of brightness. I pull of the sack and laugh at the peoples shocked faces.

"I hope you all saw that because I will not be doing THAT again," I laugh hoarsely. I lie on my back, sucking in all that sweet delicious air. Never thought that I'd ever relish the smell of death. But hey it's not mine. Oh thank god I'm alive I'm alive. I close my eyes, grinning like a madman.

"Apostate!"

"Mage!"

"Demon!"

Uh oh.

I open my eyes and see an ungodly amount of swords pointed at me. The people watching the execution are shouting angrily. They want blood, specifically mine. The captain is right next to me, fear and fury blazing in his eyes. "Let's try this again. And this time, do remember to die."

Oh no, that asshole is not getting the last word.

"I'm not sure how homosexuality viewed in this country, but if you penetrate me again, I'm telling people," I say with a defeated smirk. Great, I bought myself an extra five minutes I slump back and stare at the smoking rope. "You guys should get that fixed."

I'm hauled roughly to my feet, my arms pinned behind my back. My feet are still bound so I can't run. And if I cast anymore magic, I've got a dozen swords pointed at me making me think it's not the best idea in the world.

Rage=Fire. How did I not get that? Hell, Rage demons in this world are made of lava for fucks sake!

A commotion breaks out in front of me. Please please please.

The blonde man in the fine clothes strides towards me, the King, with Loghain beside him. I smile. Cailan was a nice guy, this'll work out. I can talk my way out of this.

He withdraws a sword from his side and moves toward me with deadly intent.

Cailan's an asshole, I'm glad that bastard's gonna die. I laughed when that sucker died. He comes within striking distance and he raises his blade. For a second, the blade blinds me.

"WAIT!" I shout at him. He pauses. I pause. The whole world pauses.

I can't believe that worked.

"What worked," Cailan asks in confusion.

"What?"

"What?"

Loghain clears his throat. "He's right," I say mysteriously… "So, how about YOU let me go," I nod at Cailan. "Nothing quite beats a King's pardon right?" I smile encouragingly and Cailan's sword lowers a little.

"Are you," Cailan starts before looking at Loghain, who shares his look of confusion. "Are you a simpleton?"

"So I've been told everyday of my life. Say, do you know about updoc?" I tilt my head questionably.

"What's up Doc?" Cailan asks in confusion. I howl with laughter, tears streaming from my eyes. 17 years I've waited for that to work. Almost worth it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I wheeze. "I couldn't resist. I'm actually waiting for someone to get here. Do you know where Duncan is?"

"Duncan?" Loghain enquires awkwardly. I wonder if Ferelden has insane asylums. If this doesn't work and they don't execute me, I think I'll be spending a lot of time there.

"Yeah, you know. Grey Warden? Tall. Ponytail. He's an old friend of mine, we go way back. Where is he?"

The captain chooses this moment to break in. "Sire this man is obviously deranged. If we could continue with-." Cailan glances at him and he shuts up. I catch his eye and wink, grinning as a vein pops up in his head.

"You are a friend of Duncans?" Cailan asks uncertainly. He whispers into Loghain's ear and Loghain looks at me, trying to figure me out. He moves among the throng. Cailain just lowers his sword. Everyone just watches for a few minutes…

"This is a wee bit awkward," I say slowly. Cailan nods. "Listen, sorry about acting a bit mad there. I'm kinda making this up as I go along." Cailan grunts. "So, uh… how's being King? Pays the bills right?"

Cailan stares at me. It hits me. I'm the crazy guy on the bus. I think I'll shut up now.

After a few minutes, Loghain returns and I smile. Duncan is next to him, eyeing me up suspiciously.

"Duncan, do you know this mad man?" Cailan asks in distaste. Wow, he really is an ass. Duncan opens his mouth to answer but I interject. That son of a bitch WILL get me killed.

"Course he knows me," I say quickly, staring at Duncan intently. "Jack Sparrow and Duncan go way back. We were on an expedition together. Remember Duncan? We met the ARCHITECT? And we were looking for Bregan? There was you, me, Fiona, Utha… Any of this ringing a bell?"

Duncan stares at me in shock. I nod at him desperately. "And Fiona got that amulet? And then she missed her CALLING from the higher ups? Why don't we go somewhere private to regale over old times," I say slowly and suggestively, eyes wide trying to relay the message. I know things. Don't let them kill me.

Duncan deliberates for a few moments. He looks up at me and I drop all facades. "Please Duncan. For old time's sake. For GUY'S sake."

He looks up at me severely. I know that my fear is showing in my face, all bravado and pretences dropped. He squints, trying to determine something. Then he sighs and turns to Cailan. "Yes, I know this man. I ask that you release him into my custody."

"What," the captain explodes. He brings his sword to my neck and I freeze, staring intently at the edge of the blade resting on my neck, ready to slit my throat at a second. "This man single-handedly crippled my ship and killed several of my men. I demand justice!"

"In my defence, it was three, and they tried to kill me first," I say shakily. The captain's eye twitches. Hopefully, he's gonna have an aneurism on the spot.

Happy thoughts…

"Reynolds, drop your blade. Now. Duncan," Loghain commands and the Captain – I guess his name is Reynolds – drops his sword to his side after a furious moment. Loghain turns to Duncan. "This man is responsible for the deaths of members of the Fereldan Navy, along with the vandalism of a ship. On top of that, he's a pirate! Are you really willing to vouch for such a man?" He looks at Duncan intensely who stares at me. I nod at him.

"I am." He says before looking at Cailan. "Sire, I invoke the Right of Conscription." Cailan's mouth opens in shock as he looks between me and Duncan. To be honest, I can't really blame him. This wasn't my greatest first impression. He breaths out, and I can almost taste his disbelief.

"Release him," he says, as though he can't quite believe his own words. The guards release my armas and I rub my neck. It's been itching like crazy.

"NO!" Reynolds shouts, swinging his sword. Without thinking I lean back and kick out. My foot connects with his wrist and he drops the sword in pain. I swing forward, raising my fist which connects with his nose. Blood and snot drips over my hand as Reynolds staggers backwards. I take a step forward and grab his head.

"Something to remember me by. How about a Glasgow kiss," I say and before anyone can react I slam my head into his face, feeling the cartilage of his nose shatter. He falls backwards onto the ground and howls in agony over his obliterated face. I turn to Duncan.

"So, somewhere private?" I say with a grin.

The onlookers just stare. I stare back. After a few moments I frown.

"What?"

"Tell me everything you know this minute pirate," Duncan commands, his face curled in distaste.

"My name is Sparrow. Jack Sparrow. And, not to be rude, but you haven't even offered me a drink yet," I pout.

"I don't recall you laughing when you were dangling from the gallows, Sparrow, so unless you wish to return there, I suggest that you start talking. How do you know of my foray into the Deep Roads," Duncan replies furiously. My face sours.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," I mutter rebelliously then freeze. How the hell do I explain this to him? The idea of explaining to someone that you're just a character in a story may come off as a wee bit mad. "You ever hear of oracles?"

"What?"

"Oracles. Y'know, predict the future?" I ask, gesturing with my hands.

Duncan pauses before shaking his head. "No, I've never heard of these oracles. What do they have to do with you?"

"Well, I'm an oracle then," I say with a smile. This could work. "I get flashes, visions of what is to come and what has already passed."

"I don't believe you," he says suspiciously. "A man with that kind of power wouldn't allow himself to be caught. Tell me the truth."

"That is the truth," I say quickly. Thinking fast, I continue. "Listen, I see things that have happened. I see things that will happen unless I interfere. I can't see my own actions. I get one version of the future and if I change it, I have no idea what the ripple effect will be."

"Then how did you come to know of me?" he asks, scratching his chin pensively.

"I saw you," I say with a shrug.

"I don't believe you. You could just be some very well informed spy. Why should I believe the word of a cut-throat?" he asks, glaring at me intently. I squirm under his gaze. He's like a teacher that you do not want to piss off. With swords across his back.

Sharp swords.

"In the fade… you saw Guinevere living the life she wished she'd had with Guy. She told you that she wished that you had died during the Joining, getting a taste of what Grey Wardens had to go through to protect people like you. And me, I suppose. That she thought your surviving was a cruel joke by the Maker. But you told her that if she truly wanted rid of you, she could've left you to the chevaliers, or sent you to another outpost." I look him in the eye, and can tell that he's shocked. I'm doing that a lot today. "Would she ever tell anyone about that? Would you?"

"What are you, some kind of demon?" he asks hoarsely.

"Nope. Just some random bloke that your gonna keep alive," I say with a smirk. Duncan scowls.

Duncan snorts and looks at me with a cold smile. "And why would I be doing that? I've already lived through my past; I hardly need someone to remind me of it."

"Because, I can see ahead as well. I know what's coming. I can tell you things, thing that could change this whole world. All I'm asking is that you keep me alive long enough to make these changes."

Duncan looks at me, then paces to the window. "And what changes are you planning? What information can you offer me?" he asks slowly. He's warming to the idea. But what can I tell him? I can't give him anything on the Architect, his movements are unknown until Awakening. An idea strikes me.

"How about the Blight?" I ask. Duncan whips around and looks at me.

"What?" he asks sharply. I instinctively sit a little straighter.

"In just over four years, a Blight will come to Ferelden. And I know how to stop it," I say, thankful for being such a massive geek.

"How? Do you know where the Old Gods are?" he asks, taking a step towards me, hope in his eyes.

"No… I thought you would? Bregan did so I thought it was common knowledge for you guys. That kinda fucks things up… But I do know who causes it," I say grimly.

"The darkspawn cause it," Duncan says in mock surprise before glaring at me.

"Not just any Darkspawn," I say with a rogueish grin. "The Architect." Duncans eyes widen and I know he's replaying the last time he saw the emissary. Guinevere's death.

"Do you know where he is?" Duncan asks slowly. I wince. I did not think this out.

"No. I don't even know where the bloody dragon is." Duncan looks at me with a furious look. "What? Just because I can see the future doesn't mean I know bloody everything. Look, true or false, this is more information than you had this morning. I just gave you a bloody golden ticket pal."

"Yes," he says sceptically. "You've told me that a Blight might occur. And that the Architect might e the cause of it. Why should I believe you?"

"Let me ask you something Commander," I say, staring at him intensely in the eyes. "Do you really want to take that chance?"

There's a few moments of silence. Duncan stares at me. I stare at him. He blinks. Turns away. Stares out of the window. Sighs. "What do you suggest?" he asks in defeat.

I look down and see the same clothes I've been wearing for that past month. I take a breath and nearly gag at the smell of myself. "I suggest you get me some new clothes and have a bath sent up here. And I need a haircut. And a shave. But clothes and a bath is a priority. Right now." Duncan glares at me and I click my tongue.

"Chop chop."

A/N: Did I just make Duncan my bitch? I think I did. Hehehe.

Review peeps. Peace!