Chapter 6 : Unlikely Hero
"You watch him girl, he should wake soon. I'm going to deal with that fool friend of his." A voice cackled as there was a low thud indicating the closing of a door.
What.. Darkspawn don't cackle... Darrian had begun to come around, his head throbbing less and feeling whole. It took a moment to register the soft bed underneath him, the scent of something bubbling over a fire, and the scent of something sweeter, much closer to him than the fire.
He felt a moistness on his forehead, as if someone was mopping his brow. Darkspawn don't mop your brow either... at least I hope not! As cool water dripped down his face, his eyes flickered open. The first things he noticed were the sharp golden eyes below a knitted brow. Than a quick, relieved smile replaced by the usual coolness he had come to associate with that face.
"Morrigan!" Darrian almost shouted, trying to sit up, than realizing he was without a shirt but covered in bandages.
" 'Tis indeed I." The woman said from her seat on the bed beside him. She watched him curiously for a long moment as color spread from cheeks, down his neck, and up to the tips of his ears. He turned his gaze away. Maker, is this a dream? It has to be, doesn't it? I'm half naked.. That usually implies a dream... His eyes flickered towards Morrigan, than back to his lap. Pretty girl... but.. ugh.. Pain twinged in his skull. This is too painful to be a dream.. So that means I'm here. Half naked. What in the world happened!
"How does your memory fare?" Morrigan asked, a satisfied smile on her face as she got up from the bed and walked over to tend to the stew on the fire.
"There... were darkspawn... Wait." Recognition lit in his eyes. Anger washed away the embarrassment he had felt moments before. "The charge never came.."
"Indeed. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field."
Quit the field.
Quit.
"That good for nothing greasy shemlen bastard! He left everyone there to die! If I get my hands on that Maker-forsaken piece of shit!" Darrian shouted, leaping from beneath the covers and standing on the bed, shaking his fist at an imaginary Loghain. It took him awhile to realize he was not wearing breeches either, just his small clothes. Morrigan's gaze had pointed that out to him, as her golden eyes traveled from his toes to the tips of his ears.
"So... Um..." Darrian sat quickly, bouncing a bit on the bed as he did, wishing more than anything for a pair of pants. "Is everyone..." His voice caught in the back of his throat.
"Besides a few stragglers, yes. Everyone is dead." Morrigan replied, her voice not unkind. "All of the other Wardens perished alongside the King. Except for that dull witted friend of yours."
"Alistair..?" Darrian asked, though he thoughts were on Duncan. His kind dark eyes, his unwaivering tolerance for Darrian's initial rudeness. His unending understanding. No.. No.. He can't of... Not Duncan...He... No... His thoughts trailed off as Morrigan took a step towards him, leaning down to check on the bandages.
"Did ... Was I badly injured? How did I get out of the Tower?" Darrian asked as Morrigan began to remove bandages.
"You were, but nothing that Mother could not fix. As for the tower, do you not remember being plucked from the highest level by Mother who had transformed into a giant bird?"
"No.. But I wish I did. That would be amazing to see." Darrian said with a smirk, feeling a bit more at ease. He glanced about, than located his clothing folded neatly at the foot of the bed. He hopped off the bed and began to dress.
"Would it? I suppose it does not entrall me as it would you, for I am used to it."
"Can you do it? Turn into a giant bird?" Darrian asked curiously as he strapped his daggers onto his back, than sat on the bed to slip on his boots.
"I...I can transform into much smaller birds. Such as a hawk, or owl." Morrigan's voice faltered.
"Sounds useful. I should go check on Alistair, let the shem know I'm alive?" Darrian asked.
"It would save Mother the trouble of dealing with him. He keep switching from anger to denial." She tutted disapprovingly, but looked up shocked as Darrian took a step towards her and took her hand.
"What do you thi-" Morrigan began, but all Darrian did was give her hand a gentle squeeze and offer her a small smile.
"Thank you Morrigan."
Her cheeks flushed and she pulled her hand away. " 'Twas nothing.. Mother did all the work.."
"Still. You've been kind. I appreciate it." With another smile, Darrian turned and walked away and left the small hut.
"You, You're alive!" Alistair exclaimed as Darrian exited the hut.
"You sound so relieved." Darrian remarked sarcastically.
"Duncan.. the others.. they're all dead.."
"I've been told. Now, what do we do about it?" Darrian asked, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at his senior Grey Warden.
"A sensible question." The elder witch agreed, turning her gaze to the panicking Alistiar.
"What DO you do about it?"
"What can we do... Its only us.. Two Grey Wardens against the Blight.." Alistair sighed hopelessly.
Darrian shook his head in disgust. "Seriously? You don't even want to try? Okay, okay.. How about this. If you could do anything, what would you do?"
"Kill Loghain." Alistair said bluntly, startling himself. "And stop the Blight, but.."
"No buts. What do we need to get revenge on the greasy bastard and fight the Blight?" Darrian asked.
"An army. But-"
"No Buts!" Darrian insisted while the Elder Witch watched on looking very entertained. "How would one get an army? The King's men died at Ostagar."
"Exactly, we can't.."
"No can'ts either." Darrian dug into his pack, and pulled out a few pages of ancient parchment, carefully folded. "Duncan gave me these last night, after the meeting. Do you remember them?"
"The treaties..b.." Alistair found himself about to say but again, instead he clamped his mouth shut.
"Exactly. And have you read them?" Darrian asked handing them over to Alistair.
Alistair looked down at the parchment for a few long moments before a spark lit in his eyes. "Of Course! They bind elves, dwarves, mages into aiding the Grey Wardens!"
"Elves, Dwarves, Mages. This sounds like an army to me." The Elder Witch commented.
"Of Course!" Alistair's eyes brightened still. "And Arl Eamon, his knights weren't there.. He'd still have all his men! I know him, he's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet.."
Darrian smirked. "So lets go build ourselves an army. How hard could it be?" Maker, I hope I sounded more confident than I feel.
"We should get moving than.. We have a lot of ground to cover.." Alistair said before turning his gaze to the witch. "Thank you for helping us."
"Will we be having two guests for the eve, Mother, or none?" Morrigan stepped outside, casting her gaze on the Grey Wardens before turning to her mother.
"Our guests are just leaving, and you my dear, will be going with them."
"What a pity- WHAT?!" Morrigan cried, rounding on her Mother. " You can not be serious.."
"You have always wanted to leave the Wilds, this is your chance."
Morrigan raised a suspicious brow to her Mother. "Surely you are not sending me away out of the goodness of your heart. I know you to well."
The Elder Witch looked at Morrigan grimly. "Of course not child. The Wardens need you."
The younger witch was startled by her mother's change it tone, but before she had a chance to reply, Alistair interjected. "Do we have to.. Take her with us, I mean?" He took a step away from with witch, as if fearing she would bite him.
Darrian sighed heavily, hiding his face in his hands. "Alistair. Really. Is now the time for your apostate mania to surface?"
"Apostate what?"
"She'll be useful, if she decides to come." Darrian only glanced at Morrigan before turning his gaze to Morrigan's mother. "I'm not going to force her to come. I would... not deny her the chance either. But it should be her choice. Whether she wanted to leaved the WIlds for years now..."
"Enough. I shall get my things." Morrigan interjected, disappearing back into the hut to appear only moments later, armed with a staff and with a satchel hanging at her waist.
"Wait, wait.. Don't I get a say in this?" Alistair whined, looking back from Morrigan to Darrian.
"Can you cast magic?" Darrian asked him, looking slightly annoyed with his constant complaints.
"Well, no.. but.."
"Would you be complaining if she was a Circle Mage? Approved by the Chantry and all that rubbish?" Darrian continued as he held his hand out infront of him and began inspecting his fingernails.
"Well.. no, I don't think so.. Magic is useful, but..."
"Than shut it. You still have your templar skills, right? If she turns into an abomination, than you can behead her and tell me you told me so." Darrian shrugged. "Besides, don't Grey Wardens always take help when its offered?"
Alistair considered a moment, than nodded. "You're right. I.." He went quiet, but looked contemplative.
"I am overjoyed to have such approval." Morrigan remarked as she turned to her mother.
"Watch the stew on the fire, I do not want to come back to a burned down hut."
"Its more likely you'll come back to no hut at all.
"I..I.." Morrigan stuttered, her brow knitted in frustration and affection.
"I know girl. Go with them. Shape the future with your hands."
With those parting words, the three companions began their trek through the Wilds. At one point, Darrian stopped and turned to them. "Where.. are we going? We've been pretty much just walking in a straight line.."
"To use the treaties." Alistair replied. "Or is that not what you meant?"
"We should go to Lothering." Morrigan supplied. " 'Tis a small village on the edge of the Wilds. A day's journey."
Darrian nodded. "That sounds like a plan than. We can restock and hear the news. I wonder how far the news of the battle has spread?" I wonder if its reached Denerim... If it will reach Denerim... Will they think I am dead? Will it matter? He sighed heavily, his shoulders sinking.
"I have a question, Morrigan?" Alistair said tentatively. The witch gazed at him with a fine eyebrow raised and a slightly bemused expression on her lips.
"I may indulge you, depending on the question."
"...Can you cook?"
"Of course I can cook. Did you not hear me telling Mother about the stew on the fire? It was not a stew of dirty socks!" Morrigan snapped.
"Well, no.. I really didn't think it was... I was merely curious on who would do the cooking when we make camp."
Is this shemlen serious? This is going to be a disaster, I can tell, yet I can't take my eyes away!
"I also know how to make forty two deadly poisons, more than half of which are colorless and tasteless." She warned, her eyes narrowing. "Do not think I will do the cooking merely because I am a woman!" She took a step towards Alistair, her grip tightening on her staff.
"You don't have to cook!" Darrian said hastily, stepping inbetween them. "Not every day, anyhow.. We can take turns."
"I know how to make a lamb stew.. the trick is to let it simmer until you can't distinguish between the meat and the potatoes. Its a delicious shade of brown" Alistair offered.
Darrian made a wretching sound as he gripped his stomach. "How about.. I'll cook. The darkspawn would win for sure if the last Wardens fell to poison.." He glanced at Morrigan than to Alistair. "Intentional or no..."
I don't think I'll ever eat lamb again... Yech. Just the description was enough to turn my stomach. Darrian shot a glance at the other Warden. I wonder if he did that on purpose!
"Rauff!" Darrian turned his head to the sound, his ears perking up, his heart lifting.
No... It can't be...
Moments later, emerging through the trees , came the cinnamon colored mabari war hound charging straight at Darrian, its tongue trailing out of its mouth.
It IS!
Darrian fell to one knee and welcomed the hound with open arms. As filthy as the beast was, smelling of death and fire, he was still a welcome sight to the elf. Darrian threw his arms around the hound's shoulders, burying his face in the hound's neck, his shoulders shaking slightly as he began to laugh.
"I can't believe it! You're alive! You wonderful dog, you!" Darrian exclaimed, now seizing the dog by the face and looking intently into its intelligent eyes.
"A pure breed mabari!" Alistair exclaimed in awe. "It seems to like you." His tone was approving, and he knelt down to pet the dog as well.
"Its the one I helped back at Ostagar.. Before the battle.. I was certain that he..." Darrian's face began to hurt with all the grinning he was doing.
"Mabari are smart like that. Once they've chosen someone, if there is a way back to them, they'll find it." Alistair patted Darrian on his shoulder as the elf hugged the dog again.
"Ugh. Am I to assume we'll be taking this filthy mongrel with us?" Morrigan said disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.
Darrian turned towards her, his grin fading. "It... would mean a lot to me. Its..." He looked at the dog again, than stood up. "I made him a promise. And I plan to keep it. If you don't like it, than head back to your mother."
Morrigan did not react like he thought she would. She did not continue to speak about the dog in a condesending tone, she did not even compare the beast to Alistair. She merely tilted her head, looking mildly curious, while half a smile danced on her lips. "Oh all right. I suppose."
The mabari gave out a joyous bark and began prancing around their heels. The hound caught Morrigan unawares, and managed to slobber all over her outstretched hand.
"Of all the... That is not a proper way to say hello, beast!" Morrigan chastised.
Darrian suppressed a laugh, and drew a hankerchief from his pack. He walked over to Morrigan and reached out to take her hand and wipe the drool from it. Morrigan tugged her hand away in an automatic gesture. "I can do that myself!" She insisted, snatching the kerchief from Darrian as well.
His brow furrowed, than he merely turned away, sounding a tad bit hurt when he mumbled "Okay.." Morrigan made a motion as to reach out to him, but her hand fell to her side and she looked rather cross.
They traveled a bit longer, Darrian and Morrigan remaining silent as the avoided looking at each other. Alistair had taken to a deep silence as well. Only the hounded seemed happy to fill the silence, running about and snapping at bugs as they flew about. As the sun began to set, they found a nice clearing under an outcropping of rock and decided to put up camp there.
Alistair was able to light the fire while Morrigan set up her tent on the outskirts of the campsite. Darrian had spread out his bedroll against the outcropping. "I'm going to hunt."
He stated, than called his mabari to his side before heading off.
Darrian frowned as he carefully sneaked between the trees, stalking a hare.
SNAP!
His foot had landed on a fallen brance and it had broken in two, causing the hare to quickly dart away. Darrian buried his face in his hand. I grew up in the city. Why did I volunteer to hunt.. I've never been hunting! Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!
His hound barked happily than took off into the Wilds, quickly disappearing within the underbrush.
"W-Wait!" Darrian called out to his hound, hurrying after him. "Maker, that dog..." He grumbled, losing sight of the hound. "Now I've got to find you too. Today is just isn't a good day, is it?"
Though he seemed unable to chase down game, Darrian was able to pick out edible herbs and mushrooms, almost crying in delight as he unearthed some wild grown potatoes. This will have to do.. I don't know what I was thinking, believeing I could hunt with my bare hands. Maybe I can pick up a bow in Lothering? Or some fishing line? I guess I'd need to find a lake for that.. or a river.. but I have been fishing before..
As lost as he was in thought, Darrian did not notice the bush in front of him until he was walking halfway though it. Thorns clawing at his breeches, scratching his arms. "Maker!" He exclaimed, struggling to free himself, and instead he ended up falling face first into the underbrush. Throwing an arm infront of his eyes spared his face much damage, but by the time he got out, he was rather bloody and uncomfortable.
A muffled bark came from behind him. Darrian turned to see the mabari wagging his short little tail furiously, a plump dead hare carried carefully in its jaws.
"Ah, well.. At least one of us can hunt." Darrian smirked, scratching the mabari behind the ears, than removing the hare from its mouth. "Will have to remove the slobber at least. Skin it too. Maybe I can get Alistair to do that..."
The rest of the evening was spent in a pleasant enough atmosphere, for Alistair stayed quiet except to offer to take first watch. Morrigan tutted at Darrian as she noticed his many scratches and scrapes, and spent the time that Darrian prepared and cooked the meal applying salves to his wounds and muttering under her breath about his clumsiness. After a decent meal of rabbit and potatoes, and Alistair fully armored and looking alert, Darrian retreated to his bedroll, staring up at the treebrances above.
One of the last Wardens.. I don't think I can do this..
The mabari barked, than laid his head on Darrian's chest, quickly falling asleep.
"Well." The elf smiled slightly. "At least someone has faith in me."