I slowly opened my eyes, taking in everything around me. I was in a rough cut bed, not exactly comfortable but it was certainly practical... wait. That smell. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. It smelled like moldy bread in a rotting pine box … the Wilds..? The Wilds! I sat up quickly, and instantly regretted it. My head spun and I put it in my hands to keep it from rolling onto the floor. "Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased."

I looked up, "Ugh... Wait. I remember you. You're the girl from the Wilds."

The robes she wore left little to the imagination and as she moved I could just think about how men must look at her. "I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. And we are in the Wilds, where I am tending your wounds." I looked myself over, I could just see the white scar of an arrow wound in my shoulder, and there were other smaller scars scattered across my torso and legs. "How does your memory fare? Do you remember mothers rescue?"

My brow furrowed, "Your mother... rescued me? We were surrounded by darkspawn! How could she possibly even get near me, let alone save me!"

Morrigan was just nodding, ignoring my outburst, "Mother managed to save you and your friend, though it was a close call."

This was just so much to process at once... wait did she say, "My friend? You mean Alistair?"

She sighed and crossed her arms, "The suspicious dimwitted one that was with you before? Yes. He is outside by the fire, with my mother, who wanted to see you when you awoke."

I put up my hand, her mother could wait, "Wait, please... Alistair... is he.. alright?"

She took a deep breath, almost as though she was stopping herself from saying something rude, or maybe crude. "He is... as you are. I suppose it would unkind to say that he is being childish."

I reached for my armor, sitting in a cleaned pile near the bed. Tightening the bracers around my wrists I gave her a look and asked, "Are there any survivors... besides us?" The leather on my left wrist was thicker and held a secret sheath for a small dagger, just a four inch blade that was attached to a mechanism. When activated the blade slid into palm of my hand. It wasn't much of a weapon, but Fergus had given it to me as a last line of defense against suitors who got too... friendly.

She shrugged, "Only stragglers that are long gone by now."

Fergus... Andraste's knickers, please be one of those survivors. I don't think I could take it...

I yanked open the door to the hut, setting my jaw. I refused to cry. I wouldn't cry... I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I had my brother to cling to.

"See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much young man." It was a voice I half recognized, coming from a woman that I knew I should. But that didn't matter right now, my focus was on the lone man standing at the edge of a small bog, his shoulders no longer held with pride and his back slumped as though he'd been truly defeated. Alistair's head turned at her voice, and when he saw me, he got a little of his spirit back. He looked as though his prayers had been answered.

Since when am I the answer to someone's prayers?

"You... You're alive!" he choked out, taking a tentative step towards me. "I thought you were dead for sure!" His mood was so serious, it felt as though the very air around us was thick with pain and anguish.

I smirked, trying to lighten the mood, "It takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me." I was rather proud of the comment too, Fergus would have said something akin to it. It made me feel like it wasn't all hopeless.

But Alistair's half-cheerful look failed, and a deep rooted pain came to his eyes. "Duncan's dead. The Grey Wardens, even the king! They're all dead." My heart stopped

The king... Now what are we going to do? Is everyone I know going to have to die?

"This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower." he muttered. He looked so terrible like that, utterly defeated and lost in the world. No knight of Ferelden deserved that. Before I could stop myself I stepped forward and put my hand on his gauntlet. I doubted he could feel me there, but... I couldn't not do something.

The woman behind us snorted, "Do not talk about me as though I'm not present lad."

Alistair turned to her, his face a mix of sorrow and anger, "I didn't mean... but what do we call you? You've never told us your name."

The woman folded her arms, "Names are pretty, but useless. Call me Flemeth, I suppose it will do."

Alistair looked taken aback, "The Flemeth? From the legends?" he glanced at me, "Daveth was right! You're a Witch of the Wilds, aren't you!"

Her face grew serious, "And what does that mean? I know a few spells and it has served you both well, has it not?" her eyes fell to me and my stomach knotted.

What do you mean by that?

"Why did you save us?" I asked. If I remembered my family history right, then this might be the very Flemeth whose murderous ways caused my family to come into power all those years ago...

She couldn't have spoken to spirits about... well, now, could she?

I mean, how could she possibly have known... I was reading too much into it, I was sure. Calen was pressing his nose into my thigh, and he only did that when I got a certain look on my face. And I knew that because I'd caught myself looking like that in a mirror once.

She gave me a look like she could read my thoughts, and spoke quietly, "Well, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, someone must deal with these darkspawn. It had always been the Grey Wardens duty to unite the lands against the Blight... or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

That ruffled my feathers, "Of course not!" A Cousland has never shirked their duty and I wasn't about to set a precedent... leastwise now that I most likely was the only one left.

Alistair must have taken offense to her comment as well, "But we were fighting the darkspawn. The king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?"

"Now that is a good question. Mens hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature." I nodded, that was true. The shadows in Howes heart had caused the deaths of my family.

"Truer than you might think...but Alistair's the real Grey Warden here... not me."

He turned on me, a glare in his eyes and a fierce look on his face, "All of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden are gone except for us! I've lost everyone! For the love of the Maker don't back out on me now!"

My breath quickened, and I straightened my spine. He would dare insinuate that I cared nothing about the dead? It was those very dead that I was thinking about, the dozens of bodies that now littered the floors of my family home. My temper flared and I let the pain of the last weeks pour out in my next words, "My name is Felyca Anne Cousland! My family was just murdered in their beds by Arl Rendon Howe of Amaranthine, and my only brother might still be alive out in those Wilds somewhere. Don't you dare talk to me as though I've no heart, Alistair. I know exactly what you're going through! But I cannot abandon my brother and besides all that, I'm a new recruit! I hardly know anything about the Grey Wardens and you're asking me to help you defeat a Blight? A Blight that has already claimed the lives of dozens of other Wardens? Helpless doesn't even begin to explain the situation."

He swallowed, the anger subsiding slightly. "What about everyone else? We can't let their deaths be in vain! Duncan was our leader, I am no more better at this than you, I've only been a Grey Warden myself for a few months. Felyca, I'm not asking you to be a legend, but I am asking that you help me avenge those of our fallen brothers."

The fallen... Ser Gilmore, Mother Mallol, the guards at the castle, the servants... Ser Nolan, Mary, Matthias, Ser Jory, Daveth... all the other Grey Wardens... the King...

I let my shoulders slump, and I dropped my head. "I can't do this on my own. We need to do something." he raised a hand to my shoulder, and I lifted my head to look in his eyes, "Help me with this and I swear to you, I will help you find your brother." I watched him closely, waiting for some sign that he was lying.

I relented, and nodded slowly, "We should contact the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"Cailan already contacted them. They'll come if they can but Loghain might have already taken steps to stop them. We need to assume they won't get here in time."

I shook my head, rubbing my temples, "What could Loghain hope to gain by betraying the king?"

He shrugged, "The throne? Still, I can't see how he'll get away with murder."

Flemeth snorted, "You speak as though he'd be the first king to get his throne that way. Do grow up, boy."

Alistair's lip curled in a snarl, "If Arl Eamon knew what he's done he'd never stand for it! The Landsmeet would never.. there would be civil war!"

I knew that name, my father had often spoken of him in a kindly manner. Had said that Eamon was a fair man, and was uncle to the king. "Arl Eamon... the Arl of Redcliffe?"

Alistair nodded, "I know him, he's a good man and respected in the Landsmeet. Of course!" He turned to me and grabbed my arms. I had to bite back a hiss, he'd latched onto a spot that was still sore, "We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

Flemeth chuckled, "Surely you have more at your disposal than old friends."

Alistair's face lit up, "Of course! The treaties!" He nearly shook me in his excitement, "Grey Wardens can demand help from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help during a Blight!"

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, sounds like an army to me..." Alistair released me, finally, and I took a step backwards, rubbing my arms absently. Maker, but did he have a strong grip. I was sure I would have bruises when I went to bed that night.

Bed... I stopped myself from laughing, Bed isn't going to be an actual bed for a while...

"So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army?" He was asking me, but I didn't know what to say. He looked so anxious, willing to believe that we could do this.

Can't you? People have stood against Blights in the past and won... why not you and why not now?

"Why not. Isn't' that what Grey Wardens do?" His face broke into a smile, a genuine smile that made his eyes light up and my heart beat a little faster. He really did have a nice smile.

"So are you set then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?"

I bit my lip and looked at her, "Frankly I'd be happy with staying alive."

Alistair nodded, "Hmm... Come to think of it, that would be nice."

Flemeth rolled her eyes, "Well don't expect me to do everything for you. There is one thing, however, that I can offer you."

Leliana was a beautiful young woman, and she knew it... sort of. She'd spent most of her life in Orlais as a bard, trained in the arts of seduction and death but she'd given all that up. All the furs, silks and satins that had usually filled her closet for a simple life in Lothering. And she'd been happy here, it was a simple, quiet life and she reveled in it. And then, when she'd thought all was finally right with the world, her old life was left in the shadows and she could begin anew, the Maker pulled her entire world apart. She'd had a vision. It wasn't exactly clear, but she knew what she had to do. It was time to leave the Chantry, and follow the Maker's plan for her until the end. She knelt before the altar in the chapel one last time, and said her farewells to the sisters as she walked out the front door and made her way north. She was passing the tavern when she heard the horses behind her, and barely made it out of the way of a troop of infantry and cavalry as they made their way down the road. The leader held up his hand, and the entire crew stopped moving.

He glared down at her from his seat atop his horse, his face stern and eyes hateful. It made her stomach churn but she held her ground. Her feet planted to the earth, she stared up at him, letting his eyes search her soul. "Where is the tavern, girl?" She pointed to her right, unable to speak and he nodded to her. "Thank you." he turned in his seat to his second in command, and gave an order.

The woman lifted her head and shouted over the crowd of men, "Company Four, you're staying behind to watch for stragglers and tell them to head for Denerim. Also," she added as the group of ten men came forward, "Remember, all Grey Wardens are traitors. Any who have survived Ostagar's assault are to be arrested and tried for treason. In Denerim." Leliana's heart raced as the group approached the tavern, shoving people out of their way and making a great ruckus. She waited, shocked as she was, and watched as the troops passed her by, making their way through Lothering and past the groups of refugees that had set up camp down the road.

'I don't believe it! Maker, I don't believe it!' she thought to herself as she carefully made her way into the tavern. She glanced at Danal, then nodded to him as he tilted his head at the soldiers. She knew what she would have to do. These men had just come from Ostagar, where she'd heard that the kings army had been obliterated by the darkspawn, including the Grey Warden troops that had joined him. She knew what she would need to do. After all, wasn't a beautiful singing voice one of the best distractions around?

We were maybe a half day's walk from Flemeth's hut, and he was silent. In fact he was silent the entire trip through the Wilds, and it was making me nervous. Four days later, after we'd reached Lothering, I had had enough. Morrigan wasn't interested in talking to me, and with Alistair withdrawn into his shell, I was on the verge of going insane. He was going to talk about it, whether he knew it or not.

He was sitting next to the fire, making designs in the dirt with a blackened stick when I sat down next to him, kicking dirt onto his drawing space. He glared up at me, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you need?" he asked, exasperated.

I took a slow breath and asked, "Do you... want to talk about Duncan?"

He shook his head, "You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

Defensive...

I shook my head at him, "He was like a father to you, believe me, I understand how you feel."

He blew out his breath and stared into the fire, "I... I should have handled it better. Duncan had warned me right from the beginning that this might happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and everything. I'm sorry." He looked at me with such a sad face I couldn't help but wrap my arm around him and squeeze his shoulders.

"There's no need to apologize."

He pulled away slightly and half smiled, "I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

I poked his thigh; miraculously he wasn't clad in armor tonight. just a simple pair of breeches and a tunic. "He had you."

"I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I could have been with him... In the battle. I feel like I abandoned him."

I bit my lip and looked away. Little did he know that what he was saying was exactly how I felt about my parents, "It doesn't sound stupid at all. I understand completely."

"Of course I'd be dead then, wouldn't I? Not like that would make him any happier. Anyway, I think he came from Highever, or so he said. Maybe I'll go there sometime, see about putting something up in his honor. I don't know." he ran his hand through his hair, then looked at me, his eyes begging for something to hold onto, "Have you... ever had someone close to you die? I don't mean to pry, I'm just..."

I watched the flames for a second before I answered. "My entire family was murdered recently, right before I came to Ostagar. My father's best friend betrayed us, and slaughtered everything, everyone." My tone was dead, I didn't feel anything about it now. Maybe that meant I was healing?

He sucked in his breath, and closed his eyes, "Oh...uh, of course. How stupid of me to forget. Here I am going on and on about Duncan and you... I'm so sorry." I tired to smile it away, but couldn't. I just let my eyes glaze over as I watched a log fall deeper into the embers of the fire. "Thank you, really I mean it. It feels good to talk about it, at least a little."

I tore my gaze over to him, and nodded, "He was a friend of mine too."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad I'm not the only one who remembers him well."

I was back at Highever, somehow I was back at Highever and I didn't care. I was home! I could hear my mother calling out to me as I danced around the training salle with my brother. My father was leaning on the edge of the railing, watching us closely. It was perfect, it felt right. I knew all that other stuff about becoming a Grey Warden, the king dying and all that was a dream. Oriana came out of the barracks, dragging a wailing Oren behind her. He kept screaming something about his mother dying and Oriana just kept telling him it was a nightmare.

A nightmare.

A nightmare... the words rang in my head as I turned suddenly to see my father run through, the sword wielded by Arl Howe. "NO!" I screamed out, my feet frozen to the ground as my father fell to the earth, blood pouring through his fingers and pooling on the ground around him. I tried to get to him, but my mothers voice rang out, a strangled cry as I heard her die. I watched my brother fade out of sight and I was left alone... all alone in a world that hated what and who I was. I fell to my knees, gasping for air, ignoring the new chasm that was opening in the ground around me. But I couldn't ignore the screech, the deafening sound echoing in my ears. I looked up, my cheeks wet with tears, and saw a dragon. It reared it's head back and snapped it's teeth inches from my face.

I screamed and shoved myself away from the beast, only to find myself staring into the dying embers of a campfire with Alistair seated across it, watching me. "Bad dreams, huh?" I took several deep breaths, I couldn't stop shaking!

"It... it seemed so real!" my voice finally returned, and I looked at him in horror.

"Well it is real, sort of." he shifted in his seated position and watched the fire, "You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was, hearing them. The Archdemon, it... 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's how we know this is really a Blight."

I swallowed, "The Archdemon... that was the dragon?" I let my eyes rove over the camp, this was just so much to take in. I slammed my fist against my bedroll, "Why didn't Duncan tell everyone that!"

Alistair gave an exasperated sigh, "He did. He told everyone he could feel the Archdemon's presence, but everyone just assumed he was guessing."

"These... dreams, are they going to happen often?"

"It takes a bit but eventually you'll be able to block them out. Some of the older Wardens said they could even understand the Archdemon a bit, but I sure can't. Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you; it was scary at first for me too." I looked at him carefully and bit my lip. He was sincere, I'd give him that.

So you're not the only one who gets night terrors.

Night terrors... worse than a nightmare, yes that's definitely what these were going to be. "Thanks Alistair. I appreciate it."

"Anyway, you're up now. Time to break camp and get moving."