Asha'belannar. The thought still sent shivers down his spine. Watching the dusk again –redder this time-, Miach remembered their adventure into the wilds, the day he'd finally met Asha'belannar Flemeth… and her daughter. Morrigan had something, no, she was something special. Iola had immediately liked her, she didn't say anything of course, but Miach could read in her face the fascination. It was possible that she'd dreamed many nights with that kind of life, far from the Chantry and the templars, that she'd wondered how it would be like to have a family, to have a mother that taught her the magic, a real family, and a mother to warn her about the dangers of the Fade instead of the sermons of the initiates.

It was miraculous, Miach thought, how he was able to think about others now. His mind was no longer occupied with the constant fear of the taint. He had been cured, in a way, and he felt stronger than ever, faster than ever, and his reflexes at their finest. There was still the death of Tamlen, of course, scratching his brain every few seconds, but in a strange, twisted kind of way, he felt alive again.

He heard Gudrun approaching but said nothing, and she didn't greet him either when she sat beside him, next to the camp fire. He watched her with the corner of his eye. Gudrun was blonde, a dirty shade of yellow tied in two elaborated buns, she had a little pretty nose and high cheekbones that made the shape of her square jaw even sharper. She was frowning, as always. She looked like there was something on her mind that she was always chewing on. Miach wondered what it might be. Something that happened underground.

"Hey."

He turned around this time, and Iola was there, she seemed worried.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Besides the fact that I've never been in a battle and there is going to be one tonight? No, not really." A silence. "Well, maybe."

Miach arched an eyebrow. "Do tell."

The mage shook her head, staring at the fire. "It's stupid. An old prejudice. I shouldn't let it get the best of me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Hey, people!" Alistair called them from a distance; he was carrying something in his arms and a wide grin on his face. "I brought you some food; decent bread and one of the finest cheeses I could get."

Iola smiled and looked confused at the same time. What's wrong with her? Gudrun took the piece of bread Alistair was offering her and chewed it in silence, along with her thoughts.

"This cheese smells really good." Miach said.

"Chantry cheese. I mean, from their stocks, not that there's a specific cheese only they make. Well actually there are some places where the Chantry owns a farm… ah… I'm sorry, I'm babbling again. Just try it, it's really good. Iola, do you want some? Iola? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes… it's just…" She scratched her elbow. "I had never seen anyone die before tonight." She finally said.

Oh, so that's what was bothering her. Understandable. Alistair's face darkened, and suddenly he looked older. "Yes. It's terrible. And I'm sorry you had to see it…"

"Don't be." Iola reasoned. There was a strange spark in her eyes, cold and logical, like she was concentrating on a mathematical problem. "There's a battle tonight. It was better to have that experience before it. I know nothing about war, but I had to start learning at some point."

Silence fell upon them, though there was no silence around them. The comforting cracking of the fire and the sounds of people preparing for battle were everywhere. Miach looked at the stars once again, -early spectators to the upcoming battle- and remembered the two companions that had fallen that day. He hadn't really liked ser Jory, but seeing someone die is never pleasant. And Daveth… Daveth was alright. Ignorant like most shems, but alright. He remembered how he wouldn't stop calling Iola 'magey'. She probably liked that.

"You should eat." He almost winced when he heard Gudrun's voice, but the durgen'len wasn't talking to him.

"You're right." Iola answered. "To be honest, I'm really hungry." She said, taking a piece of bread and cheese from Alistair. The man smiled, seeing now every one of them was eating, and sat beside Iola.

She shrunk a bit when he did, only a tiny bit, and quickly fought to relax her position again. Iola couldn't help it, it was just a natural reaction for her; make herself small, unnoticeable, trying not to catch their attention. They meaning templars. But then again, he was no templar anymore; he had never been, not really. He didn't even like it, Alistair had claimed, hated it even.

Iola had asked about his past, regarding the incident with Ceifell, and Alistair obliged; and even if he was nice, and polite, and not at all templar-like, after so many years in the Tower there were certain behaviors and instincts that couldn't be just switched off. She would have to fight against them. There was no Tower, no Circle, and no fear for her anymore.

Iola gave the cheese a bite. Mmmm.

"Delicious, isn't it?" Alistair said. "Divine, you could say."

She chuckled, and almost choked with the piece of cheese. Miach laughed, and even Gudrun let out a snort of appreciation.

They remained silent for a while after that, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, they seemed to be at peace with each other. Gudrun was sitting hugging her knees, Miach was lying down, with his arms crossed under his head, Alistair rested his weigh on his elbows, and Iola was sitting legs crossed.

"Do war councils always take this long?" The elf asked after a while.

"Yes." Gudrun answered.

"Oh." Another silence. "At least all we have to worry about is slaughtering darkspawn." The thought brought a smile to Miach's face.

Iola wanted to ask him if he had always been that bloodthirsty, but she thought she shouldn't ask until they had their first fight against people, if it ever took place, of course. Even if he was, Iola thought, she doubted she would dislike him. Miach easy to get along with, despite being dalish. Oh hush, don't ever say that out loud. Don't even think it. The people that spread awful rumours about the dalish were the same that had the mages locked up. Iola frowned.

"Why are you frowning so hard? Are you trying to beat Gudrun in her own territory?" Alistar whispered, to make sure the dwarf didn't hear him, and Iola winced, but couldn't help a chuckle when she recovered.

"I'm just thinking."

"You do a lot of thinking, are you sure that's good for your health?"

Iola evaluated the question, even if it wasn't meant to be serious, and took a moment before answering. "Well, the last time I preferred to act before thinking I ended up swallowing darkspawn blood. That can't be good for my health either."

Alistair looked at her in surprise, he smiled, and then burst into laughter.

Duncan came back from his meeting with the king shortly after that, gathered all the four together and explained the strategy that had been proposed. "The king has requested that it be two of you who perform this task, and that one of them should be you, Alistair."

A stream of understanding passed between the two men. Miach and Iola were too nervous to notice, but Gudrun caught the glare Alistair was casting in Duncan's direction. There was something going on there, ancestors be damned, and an Aeducan recognized a secret when she saw one.

However, the glare didn't last long, and Alistair carried on complaining about not being able to be in the battle. Duncan repeated that those were the king's orders, and that they should not refuse, Cailan being one of the few allies of the Grey Wardens.

"The task is really simple, so I'd suggest you take Iola with you. No offense, child, but you've never seen a battle."

"None taken."

"When the beacon is lit, you two can join us in the battlefield. Gudrun, Miach, you will join me and the rest of the Grey Wardens in the front line."

They nodded, Gudrun all business, and Miach with a dark grin.

"Let us go then."

"Duncan." Alistair sounded worried this time, deadly serious. "Maker watch over you."

"Maker watch over us all."

"This was supposed to be simple! What are all these darkspawn doing here?!" Alistair said, while pulling his sword out of one of the bodies. Iola was panting at the top of the stairs, barely able to sustain her mana. "Wasn't it you the one complaining about not being able to fight?"

"Heh, I guess you're right. Always the silver lining, eh?"

Iola shook her head. That one was humorous even when all covered in that filthy dark blood, and not at all tired. Not like her, who was wondering for the tenth time what was with the tevinter and their damned towers. While running upstairs was something she was familiar with, –that was pretty much all the exercise they got at the Tower- fighting for her life while doing it wasn't something she'd practiced before.

"Ey, are you alright?" Iola nodded. "Good, we should get going; I think we're close to the top now. And thanks for the healing back there."

"Yeah…" She had to save her breath for all the running and fighting, they could exchange pleasantries later.

The two of them and their two improvised companions –two soldiers previously escaping the tower- rushed upstairs and opened one last door, hoping they could light the damned beacon in peace, or at least to fight the darkspawn that could be there quickly, only to find the last thing Iola had wanted to see: a huge ogre tearing apart a man.

Her brain allowed her knees to weaken for a few seconds before resuming the problem-solving mode that had gotten her that far. What did they had there? A gigantic, murdering ogre, but thank the Maker, it was only one. She was the only mage, but one of the soldiers was an archer. Well, they'd have to stay away from it, unless they wanted a gruesome painful death. Iola figured she'd do more good supporting her companions than trying to take down the creature with direct damage. It was better to try and paralyze it, make it slow, and heal the others now and then.

"Aim at its eyes!" She heard Alistiar shout, while he and the other soldier jumped forwards to try and hurt the beast's legs. Iola did her part the best she could, trying to freeze or slow the creature, but Maker she was exhausted.

"That bloody beacon should be burning already!" Marek spat.

"It's not too late."

"But it is, nevertheless. Something's wrong."

Miach was enjoying himself, at least until Marek voiced his thoughts. He had set aside his blades, for he was more useful with the bow in that particular moment, and there he was with the warden Marek, covering his companions from a distance with their arrows. Marek was an excellent archer, or at least he was until he began looking more at the tower of Ishal than at their enemies.

"Grab your blades, Miach, we're going to Duncan."

They reached the Commander and the other wardens in a weird quiet moment, while the darkspawn made way for what was probably going to be an alpha.

"What about the tower?" Marek asked.

"What about it?"

"There's something wrong. Can't you feel it?" To Miach's dismay, Duncan nodded.

"A small group, it feels like they're at our backs, but there's still the army and the mages there."

"And the Tower."

"They're coming!" A voice cried from a distance. "It's a general!"

They say one of the most important abilities of a leader is making important decisions under pressure in record time, to have a gut that tells the truth when they don't have the time to trust their brains. Duncan tightened the grip on his weapons, then looked at Marek first and then back at Miach. "Gudrun!" He called. The former princess appeared behind him with her battle axe all covered in blood and her hair messier than in the Deep Roads.

"Aye, commander?"

"You and Miach are going to the tower of Ishal."

"What?"

"Someone has to carry on with the task, in case something has happened to our fellow wardens. Now go."

Gudrun glanced at Marek, and for the first time Miach saw her hesitate. All the hardness was gone from her face, and he could see fear. The expression in the other grey warden's face was pity.

"But-" She began.

"No. you must go. Now. Miach, you must go."

The durgen'len had gone pale, white as a ghost, she looked completely out of place. Miach grabbed her wrist.

"Marek…" She pleaded, still looking at the senior warden. Marek's expression hardened.

"Go! Now! It's an order, lady Aeducan!"

Those words felt like cold water pouring all over her. Gudrun nodded and turned around to follow Miach out of the battle field. The shouts of alarm echoed in her ears way longer after they could actually be heard, and Marek's bitter tone stuck with her all the way to the tower. Her insides clenched, but she dismissed it. No time for that, they had a mission.

"Iola was here." Miach said, looking at the frozen body of a genlock. In their ascensionof the tower, floor after floor, they didn't find the bodies of their companions, yet plenty of drakspawn had been slain.

"This must be what Marek and Duncan were talking about when they said they were feeling the darkspawn behind us. They were here, in the tower." Miach said.

Gudrun nodded. She hadn't recovered her natural skin colour yet. "Let's go, there's still one more floor. Iola and Alistair could be dead in the top of the tower for all we know."

"Don't say that."

Gudrun looked at him, and her gaze was full of pity and defeat, but impatience too. That kid from the forest knew nothing of war. He had seen death, he had seen fights and darkspawn and he knew how to defend himself and others; but still the acceptance of the horror was unkown to him. It was not with hope, but with innocence, that he'd said those words. Gudrun wasn't going to answer, no, she was going tall him to move when they heard something under them. In the third or second floor.

The clash of metal, guttural growls, footsteps, feet running.

"There are more coming." Miach breathed.

"Run!"

"Where?!"

"Upstairs!"

"We'll be trapped! It's suicide!"

"We have to light the beacon! It's our responsibility!" Sometimes, someone dies. It is so simple.

They stumbled across the door and the ogre pushed Alistair in their direction. The warrior was lying at their feet, breathing heavily. There was a scream, and Gudrun saw Iola cornered between the ogre and the beacon. Alistair jerked his head up and tried to resume the battle. Miach tried to shoot from his position while Gudrun ran towards the beast.

Iola was seeing the face of death, and its breath was disgusting. She knew the beacon was behind her and thought, that if she was going to die, at least she should try and fulfill their duty. She barely had mana for one spell. One spell and that was all. She could try and attack the ogre, with little chances of even slowing it, or she could light the beacon and die with the satisfaction of a job well done. Oh well.

"Don't do it!" Gudrun's voice came from behind the ogre. She'd read her intentions like an open book. Maker, that woman was smart.

"Stun it and run! Now!"

Well who was the strategist there? Iola? Not at all. The mage did as she was told and used what was left of her strength to try and stun the creature with mental explosion. The she jumped out of its way, just in time to see Gudrun literally breaking one of its knees, and Alistair on his feet again, attacking the other leg.

The ogre fell, and while trying to get up, a small shadow ran across the room and leaped to its back. Two curved daggers reflected for an instant the dim light of the room before stabbing the monster in the neck several times. The creature fell dead with a low, desperate growl and a loud thump when all its weigh hit the floor. Miach got off his back, and it was then when Gudrun and him remembered they were running away from something. Many somethings.

Iola spoke up. "Thank you, Gudrun, you saved my-"

"No time for thanks! Block the door! Light the beacon and block the door! Quickly!"

Miach didn't waste any time and grabbed a torch hanging nearby to light the fire. Iola and Alistair were still confused. Their companions were dead.

"There are more darkspawn coming, they'll be here in any moment!"

Alistair didn't need to hear that twice. Both warriors ran to the door and held in close, while Iola and Miach carried broken furniture to create a barricade. Alistair and Gudrun looked at each other's eyes, completely understanding. Their thoughts were running in a very similar way. Even if they win the battle down there, we're lost. Gudrun's look seemed to say. I know. We did our duty. Alistair's eyes answered. Once they had secured the door, they stepped out of the way and waited, two at each side of the door; Gudrun with Miach, and Iola with Alistair. The mage had swallowed one more lyrium potion, and had again that logical expression in her face.

"The barricade won't hold forever." Miach commented. The grunts and howls coming from the stairs were more audible now.

"We did our duty." Gudrun answered. She was fine with that, only sorry she wouldn't get to face Bhelen again. With a bit of luck, he'd trip with his own beard and fall into a river of lava.

Heeello! Well first thing thank you again for reading this! I have a lot of fun writing it. Second, I'd like you to know that I didn't really plan to write the scene in the tower of Ishal, but it kind of happened so there you go. I hope you enjoyed it. Also, as always, feel free to correct grammar, spelling, idioms etc etc.

And of course: Bioware is the lord and owner of this Dragon Age stuff, you know, the cool things; Ostagar, Alistair, Duncan, darkspawn, elvish...

Asha'belannar is an elven term for 'woman of many years': Flemeth.