Aegnor grimaced at the memory. "Ironic, isn't it? The battle that earned me my moniker is the only battle I've ever run from. The only battle I ever lost." He said, his voice full of bitterness.

Varric shrugged good-naturedly. "It was also a battle you weren't in charge of. From what I hear, that hasn't been the case since."

Aegnor nodded reluctantly. "It just… galls me. I think that was the second biggest reason I hated Loghain. He forced me to run from battle."

"The biggest?"

Aegnor's face became tight. "He'd just condemned Ellie to die without shedding a tear, along with countless others." He spat. "I may hate the Templars, but at least one of them will look you in the eye and put a sword through your neck if you're a mage. Loghain let the darkspawn do his dirty work, and I don't even want to think about what happened to the women at Ostagar that day."

Varric grunted sympathetically. "Good to see your priorities are straight."

Aegnor snorted. "Someone's should, and that usually falls to me."

Varric snickered, before giving Aegnor a curious look. "What I don't understand is how you got away. You fled after Hawke did, and you were in far worse shape."

"That should be no great secret. It's where I went from there that things get interesting."


I made it to the Tower of Ishal at a dead sprint. Aside from a couple of detours and a few short, sharp fights, I'd kept up that pace since the canyon. My eyes widened at the ajar door and the darkspawn corpses surrounding it. The darkspawn can't have made it here in these numbers already. Cursing the time I'd spent freeing the Mabari in the kennels, I ran as fast as I dared in the narrow passageways of the tower, slowing down at corners by slamming into the wall and pushing off of it.

The sheer number of corpses, both darkspawn and human, shocked me. Most of the humans appeared to have been crushed, either against the masonry or simply crushed outright, while the darkspawn appeared to have been killed by magic if the scorch marks were any indication. A few of the ones who lay face up had had their eyes burned out. Ellie. She was here, at least.

I prayed to Mythal, that she be alive.

When I reached the top, I thought my prayer had gone unanswered. Smashed masonry and wooden furniture was strewn across the room, as well as a frightening amount of blood both black and red. I started when I realized that the wall opposite me had been destroyed utterly, a gaping hole large enough to allow a dragon instead allowing the storm to drench the room. Already, the blood was running, flowing across the floor until it seemed that twenty men, not two, had died.

Fenedhis lasa! My first frantic sweep revealed two corpses, one wearing circle robes and the other wearing heavy armor, though I couldn't place the material; there was too much blood. Please, please don't be dead! In the back of my mind, the part of me not panicking was piecing together what must have happened, telling me that she was here. I ignored the part that told me she might be dead.

My paranoia saved me. The faint whistle, barely audible over the storm, alerted me to the shield that very nearly collided with my head. I cursed, ducking away and bringing my blade up defensively. My eyes widened in recognition. "Alistair? What in the Creators name possessed you to attack me?"

His shoulders sagged in relief. "It's you! I thought you were a darkspawn."

I scowled at him. "I find that hard to believe!"

"Have you looked at yourself?" He asked, smirking.

A quick glance downwards revealed that my armor, particularly in the dark, was easily torn and bloodstained enough to pass for darkspawn. Damn humans and their small eyes. "Alright, fine." I conceded tightly. "You're forgiven. Now where's Ellie?"

His face fell. "She's breathing, but she passed out. But why-"

"Take me to her." I interjected, leaving no room for argument in my tone.

Confused, he led me into a small alcove created by the wall and some fallen rubble. "There she is." He said, pointing unnecessarily as I rushed over. She's breathing, some blood coming from her nose. "Now why are you here? If you're here as reinforcements for the darkspawn that made it past you, we took care of those." I ignored him. Superficial injuries and pallor suggest some degree of blood loss, but not enough to pass out. Creators, what happened?

I started when Alistair grabbed my shoulder. "Aegnor, what is going on? Why are you here?!" I resisted the urge to hit him and start yelling with some difficulty. My patience, already fraying after the slaughter of an entire army, was not equipped to deal with someone who'd not only let Ellie fall unconscious, but was utterly unaware of what was happening when he had a giant window to let him see how the battle was progressing. In a word, badly.

I waited until I trusted myself to speak. "I got the order to retreat." I lied through gritted teeth. Don't have time to play the game of 'how can they be dead?'. "Things went poorly. I'm here to get you and Ellie."

His eyes went wide and he gripped me tighter. "What happened? Is Duncan alive? Is the King?"

I glowered at him. "Alistair, every second we waste here is a second that the darkspawn are catching up. I have questions too, but both of us will have to wait. So shut up, grab Ellie, and follow me."

"But-"

I slapped his hand away and jabbed him in the chest. "Understand that the only reason I haven't grabbed Ellie and left right now is because I don't think you deserve to be eaten by darkspawn, and we have a better chance of surviving in a group. But the more you talk, the more you bellyache, the more I'm tempted to take my chances! Now MOVE!" He stood there stunned for a few seconds, before finally slinging Ellie over his shoulder and making his way over to me. Thank the Creators. I was about three seconds away from hitting him, and I didn't need another broken bone in my hand. Suppressing a wince, I opened the door to the staircase.

I closed it again.

"What's wrong?" Alistair asked tersely, likely in response to my yelling at him. Oh well. I'd apologize for that when we got out of here alive.

Which was looking to be harder than it sounded. "Darkspawn caught up with me." I said, sounding a lot calmer than I felt.

"How many?"

"I couldn't get a proper count. At least twenty, with more pouring in behind them." I replied, mentally kicking myself. Idiot! Should've run faster… or just left without Alistair! I knew it was unfair to him. I knew I couldn't have arrived any sooner. I didn't care. The world becomes a lot simpler when things are your fault.

His shoulders slumped. "We can't fight through that many!"

"I know."

"Ellie's out cold! It's just the two of us!"

"I know."

"Can you even fight? You look like you've been to the Void and back!"

"I KNOW!" I shouted, then cursed as the darkspawn tried to break down the door. I thought frantically. "Alistair, there was another mage. Dead, I think."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, so?"

"So grab his staff. I need something to bar the door shut." I still wasn't sure why I wasn't panicking. Could be shock. I had taken some bad hits. It also could've been the realization that I was going to die, and I wanted to go down fighting. Abelas, Mamae. I accepted the staff from Alistair and wedged it into where the drop bar would have gone. I suspected it had been broken when the darkspawn first attacked.

We stepped back and listened to the darkspawn on the other side. "Now what? We sit here and play cards until they break through?" Alistair asked dryly. Terrific. He's found his sense of humor. He dropped Ellie off back at the alcove and drew his sword, standing by me and the door.

I took the opportunity to clean my sword and bind some of my injuries. "Now I play healer and, hopefully, Ellie will wake up before that staff breaks." It didn't look likely, judging from the looks of things. We had a few minutes, at best. "So now that we have some time, what made the hole in the wall?"

"Hey, I asked you first!"

"And I need to take my mind off of a fractured leg. That means you're up."

He huffed. "Alright, fair enough. Long story short, we fought an Ogre, it killed two of us, and Ellie blasted it through the wall before it could kill me."

My mind finally made the connection between the flash of light and the ogre falling from the tower. "Wait, that was Ellie?"

"You knew that there was an Ogre here?"

I made a dismissive gesture. "I saw it falling from the tower right before the beacon was lit." I grit my teeth as I tied off a bandage. "How did she manage it?"

Alistair shrugged, trying to look unconcerned as the staff began to crack. "I don't know. I woke up after it happened."

"Woke up?"

"You ever been hit by an Ogre?"

I cocked my head. "Yes, actually, but I see your point." My ears twitched. Something bigger was coming.

Alistair whipped his head around. "You've been hit by an ogre? When?!" The look on his face was priceless.

"About ten minutes ago. And you might want to get your shield up." I grunted, forcing myself back to my feet with my hand over my eyes. "We have a few seconds at best."

"Wha-" A flash of light interrupted him as the staff shattered and the door flew open, revealing a hurlock, easily seven feet tall and carrying a massive axe of red steel, far too ornate to have been made by the darkspawn. Alistair, blinded, stumbled back with a curse just in time to avoid its first swing. The stone floor splintered and cracked under the impact.

My hand twitched towards one of my knife sheathes, now empty. Guess I'll have to get close to him.

Joy.

I yelled, far more hoarsely than I'd like, and charged in. My first thrust glanced off of its jagged plate, and I barely avoided its return swing. Alistair, showing more stones than I'd have thought, reset his stance and smashed into it with his shield. By that point, more darkspawn were starting to pour in around the big one, forcing the two of us to retreat. One of them became overzealous and lunged out alone, a mistake that I took full advantage of. Where it fell, two took its place.

The hurlock general kept back, only swinging to discourage us from pressing in and stemming the tide of darkspawn at the chokepoint. More fell, dead, swiftly replaced by their fellows, forcing us back until we were fighting side by side at the entrance of the alcove.

I tried and failed to enter the red haze that had consumed me on the battlefield. I was too tired, too drained, too scared to act on instinct alone. Adrenaline rose up in me, but it granted a cold clarity. I was fully aware of the darkspawn trying to kill me, granting me an almost clairvoyant quality where I could predict their movements, but my actions were slowed by my awareness of my own body, how it stung and burned and ached. I could see each hit before it happened, feel each hit send stabbing pain through me, and be unable to stop. If I stopped, Ellie died.

In desperation, I fell back on one of the simplest, most effective techniques I knew. I ducked one swing, rose up, and struck back, drawing power from my legs even as my arms burned with the effort. One. I ducked to the other side, lower, and swung again, faster. Two. Even lower, my legs burning as I rose to deliver another full body swing. Three.

The next time, they caught on, and an axe clipped me on my way up. The simplicity of the move allowed me to continue through the pain, to ignore the hits I would take, so long as I kept up the rhythm. Four. A dagger entered my gut. Five. Even faster. Six. Pain. Seven. Pain. My rapid assault succeeded in buying Alistair and I some time. Darkspawn fell with every swing, too bunched up and lacking the self-preservation to defend. I can do this. In that moment, I felt invincible.

On the eighth swing, my leg, the one damaged by the ogre, gave out underneath me, and I caught a blow to the chest. I stumbled back, swinging desperately to buy room. Arrows, first one, then many more flew in from the seething mass, piercing my battered armor with impunity. Alistair, his blade dark with their blood, caught three on his shield before he missed and fell, a pair of black shafts sticking out of his chest.

No! It finally hit me how desperate we were, tearing me from my false calm. No no no! I roared, my voice barely whisper, and attacked weakly. My legs gave out and I crumpled before I was finished, saving me from the return blow.

I lay there, bleeding out, and prayed to Mythal that we be saved. I know I've already prayed to you. I know I have no right. I just ask that Ellie still be okay. Don't let her get eaten by darkspawn! Already, however, I was seeing things, feeling things. I felt my soul enter the Veil with a great whoosh, yellow light blinding my eyes and dry heat, utterly out of place in the damp cold, scorching my face.


"Hold on! You're telling me that that's what dying is like?"

"No, actually."

"Then wha-"

"Listen a bit. It'll come to you."


Out of everything they don't tell you about becoming a Grey Warden, the dreams are easily the worst.

I've spoken to many Wardens in my time, many Junior, some Senior. They were universally shaken by the nightmares brought on by the taint, stoicism notwithstanding. It's not hard to see why. The embodiment of evil and corruption mixed with the fade is enough to make the strongest of people blanch. You might think this is the part where I say I'm an exception.

You'd be wrong. My dreams were far worse.

"I missed you, little mortal!"

Case in point. "I can't say the feeling's mutual." I replied, grateful that I could speak this time. Of course it's the same pride demon. I took some satisfaction in seeing the glowing hole where I'd stabbed him last time, but I didn't think it'd do much to endear me to him.

"I haven't forgotten our last encounter, elf." It said, fingering the stab wound. "Having the power to harm me is a rare thing! Almost as rare as surviving an encounter with Sieruhne."

I folded my arms over my chest. "Mouse, is it? I hate to say, but you're talking to a dead man. The darkspawn beat you to me."

The demon chuckled, the sound resembling a rockslide. "Indeed? Such a pity. But then, if you were dead, no one would be pouring energy into that ruined body of yours."

I wasn't amused. "If you want to play games, fine, but don't lie to me! There is nothing that could have saved me! I'm lying dead at the top of a tower, being gnawed on by darkspawn!"

"Lie? Oh, demons never lie."

I snorted. "You just did."

"We kill, we possess, we cheat, we deceive, we hold grudges, but we never lie. If we did, if we went back on deals, who would ever seek out our help? Who would ever let us in if we couldn't be trusted to uphold our end of the bargain?"

I gestured dismissively. "Look, I don't care about what you want, or why you're here. I'm not saying yes to any deal you have! Your friend Sieruhne may have convinced Jowan, but the Dalish know better than Chantry magelings." I drew my blade. "Now leave, before I cast you out!"

"Oh, you can't do that this time, little fire!" It laughed. "You are not dead, and yet your body cannot awaken! You are trapped here!"

"I can still hurt you." I snarled. "Leave! I won't say it again."

It cocked its head. "Are you sure you want me to leave?"

"YES!"

It had the gall to sigh dramatically. "Very well, I shall leave. Farewell!" It began to fade from existence, swept away on the currents of the fade. As it did so, however, the green landscape surrounding us began to sicken. Blight, formless and terrible, encroached on the borders of my mind, clouding my vision. Frightening images and sensations, almost as bad as the Joining, again assaulted me.

I grit my teeth and tried to bear it. It was like gritting your teeth and bear getting flayed while drinking wyvern venom. Searing, ripping pain, terrifying nightmares, vertigo, nausea, all of it blended together.

It only got worse.

It might have lasted five minutes or five hours. In any case, the confusion began to fade. I suppose my mind was getting used to the taint, and could better understand what I was seeing. What I saw was horrifying. I saw the deaths of the Grey Wardens from the perspective of the darkspawn. I saw and felt what the ogre did when it crushed King Cailin. I flickered through the minds of countless darkspawn on the battlefield, greedily gnawing on the corpses, feeling the flesh stick in my teeth and my throat, frighteningly sweet to their senses.

The most terrifying thing was the pain. Every single one of them was in agony, demanding that they lash out, that they attack those who did not feel the same pain as they did. The sensation seeped into my being, sunk its claws into my mind, trying to tear me away from myself, to become something powerful, hungry, and terrible.

I howled. "MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP!"

Mouse took his time returning. By the time he had fully manifested, I was motionless on the ground, still murmuring "Stop… stop… stop… stop…"

Mouse laughed. "Now you see what I offer you. I could offer you money, power, fame, glory, any number of things that I have granted fools in the past! I may even grant some of them to you, when you let me in!" I didn't have the energy to protest. "What I offer, however, is a reprieve. Let me in, and I will put you in a dream, where there is no taint, there are no nightmares, where you never left your people!"

"What… do… body…"

"What will I do when I have you? That's nothing to worry yourself with. You'll be perfectly comfortable in the meantime."

"…No..."

Mouse shrugged, amusement somehow plain on its monstrous face. "I can be patient for a prize such as yourself. Enjoy the taint, and when you wish for death to free you, think of me. My offer stands."

I'll spare us both the details of my time in the fade after that. Needless to say, it wasn't pretty.


"You know, I think I know the perfect recruit for the Grey Wardens."

"… I tell you about the horrible nightmares, and THAT'S what occurs to you?"

"He's an elf, much like yourself, covered in lyrium tattoos. Broody guy, likes killing Tevinter slavers with big swords, you'd like him."

"…Okay, I'll bite. What's the punchline?"

"Punchline? There is no punchline. It'd just give him something else to complain about. It's a hobby of his."

"I'd like him, huh?"

"Don't take it bad! You're not as bad as Anders."

"Hmph. I feel so honored."

"What can I say? It's a gift."


I woke up in a cold sweat, feeling much as I had after touching the mirror. Burning thirst, ravenous hunger, and enough aches and pains to cripple most people. I, being frighteningly used to that sort of thing by this point in my life, sat up and rubbed the sand from my eyes. I didn't dare doze off again.

"Ah! Your eyes finally open. Mother will be pleased." I wheeled around and moved to draw my sword before stopping abruptly, the sharp movement sending a bolt of pain through my body. I realized belatedly that I wasn't armed in any way. Or armored, for that matter. I was dressed in nothing but bandages, stitches, and a pair of rough breeches I was fairly certain weren't mine.

Morrigan, she of the sultry bedroom voice, smirked. "I would not move too quickly, were I you." She said, sounding amused. "You're recovering from injuries that would kill a man twice your size."

I ignored her and took the opportunity to look around once my eyes worked properly. I was on a bed, though from the stiffness of it I could have mistaken it for a wooden floor with sheets. Surrounding me was a cabin, both shabby and spotlessly clean. Dried herbs lined the rafters, their scent mixing together in a dozen different ways that somehow remained tolerable. Standing apart from the sparse wooden furnishings like a wolf among deer was a massive chest made of a metal I hadn't seen before, too bright to be steel, and colored just wrong to be silver or gold.

Turning to Morrigan, I had a fairly good guess of where I was. "How am I in Asha'belannar's home?!" I could have continued, only to be overtaken by a coughing fit brought on by my dry throat.

Morrigan brought a cup of tea I hadn't seen to my lips. "Drink this slowly. 'Twill not go down well if you do not." I listened to her, taking small gulps to avoid choking. Like I said, I was frighteningly used to this sort of thing by this point in my life.

Fortunately, I also recognized the taste of the anesthetic after the first two swallows. I'd used similar drugs treating injured hunters, myself included. Ordinarily, it was just enough to numb the pain. This was enough to knock out a horse.

I spat out my mouthful and swatted the cup away. "NO! I've slept enough."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You expect to walk out of here after only a day?"

I answered her by swinging my legs over the side of the bed and standing up, swaying unsteadily. "Something like that." I frowned at her. "And you didn't answer my question."

I derived some amusement from the surprise on her face. "I do not know how Mother retrieved you. When I asked, she just laughed and said she turned into a giant bird and plucked you from the top of that tower."

My eyes widened. "Did she rescue others as well? A young man and woman, one of them a mage?"

She nodded. "Indeed."

"Are they… are they alive?"

"Yes, yes." She said testily. "The two of them have been rather melancholy for people saved from certain death."

"Yes, it's entirely unreasonable that they can't see the forest for the thousands of dead corpses." I growled.

She cocked her head. "I don't believe I've heard that before."

"Point. Missing it."

She shrugged. "If you wish to make a point, use your words properly." She said, a note of condescension entering her voice.

I swayed dangerously for a moment as the second sip of tea hit me, barely managing to keep my legs underneath me. I glared at her amused expression. "Very well, I'll make this simple. Return my things to me, and take me to my companions. Swiftly, if you please."

"Very well." She scoffed, mocking my earlier words. "Your companions are just outside, and your things are next to the bed. 'Twill be amusing to see if you can walk that far." I made my way slowly to the other side of the bed. Blessedly, my travel pack had survived the battle mostly undamaged. Thank the Creators. I wasn't sure if it was a testament to my bravery or my stupidity that I'd taken so few cuts on my back.

After digging for a moment, I found my second set of clothes, folded up into a tight bundle. I shot a glance at Morrigan. "Do you mind?"

"Tis nothing I've not seen before. Who do you think healed you in the first place?"

"Suit yourself." I made to remove my breeches, and smirked when she huffed and turned to leave. Inwardly, I felt more than a little relieved that she hadn't called my bluff. Whether or not she'd seen my body already, I wasn't much of an exhibitionist.


"Thank the Maker for that."

"You're one to talk. You show off more of your chest than Morrigan did!"

"Really? I'm flattered you noticed."

"I notice all manner of fine things, regardless of the smartass they're attached to."


Speaking of which, I admit to admiring Morrigan's… rear aspect as she turned to leave. Haughty and sardonic as she was, it did nothing to detract from her physical features. I was a tad ashamed at the time, but looking back, I'm glad for it. As dire as the situation was, every young man needs a chance to be young and foolish.

My armor was utterly ruined, unfortunately, and I was unsurprised to see every single one of my knives missing, as well as my dagger. Flemeth would've had to pry them out of the darkspawn corpses they were now embedded in. I felt a pang of guilt when I saw that the masterfully crafted bow I'd taken from Master Ilen was missing. I wasn't as fond of archery as most Dalish Hunters, but I could appreciate the time and love the aged craftsmaster had put into it, and the thought of it in the hands of darkspawn sickened me.

Thankfully, my spirits were raised slightly when I saw that my blade had survived. I didn't lose it, father. It was heartening to see that, out of all the broken oaths of that battle, I had managed to keep this one, and the feel of cold ironbark in my unsteady hand was equally comforting. After a moment's consideration, I rigged the remains of my gauntlets into serviceable handwraps. I winced as I pulled them over my bruised knuckes, but considering how often things got out of hand and I had to start swinging, I thought it a necessity.

I limped my way outside, gritting my teeth with each step, and not just from my healing injuries. I had easily sprinted three miles in my made dash to the Tower of Ishal, much of it uphill. My feet, calves, and thighs, as a consequence, felt both stiff as a board and as wobbly as boiled noodles. Remembering Morrigan's taunt, I refused to let it show on my face and made my way to the edge of the pond, where Alistair and Ellie stood.

I forced myself to smile. "Aneth ara." The two of them spun around fast enough that I thought their necks might snap, looks of shock on their faces.

Alistair recovered first, his face pale. "You're… you're alive." He said with something approaching reverence. "I thought you were dead for sure!" Ellie's response was less vocal. She stepped forward as if in a trance, mouth moving soundlessly, and laid a hesitant hand on my chest, as if afraid I would break if she prodded me too hard, which wasn't far from the truth. After a moment of looking torn between crying and hitting me, she pulled me into a crushing hug and buried her head in my chest.

My protesting ribs pushed me to try and dislodge her. When I felt tears soaking into my shirt, I decided to ignore them. "Ellie… it's fine… I'm alright!" I managed to choke out. Her grip loosened somewhat, but she remained where she was, her shoulders heaving with sobs. I wrapped my arms around her protectively. "I'm not going anywhere. It takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me."

Alistair blinked back tears. "Duncan's dead. Cailin's dead. The Grey Wardens are dead." He took a shuddering breath, trying to compose himself. "I'm sorry, it just… it doesn't seem real."

"I know." I said quietly. "How are you holding up?"

I wasn't surprised when Ellie answered. "I… I've been better." Her voice trembled, like a child pretending they weren't afraid. Alistair nodded in agreement, his face pale.

Over the years, many have remarked upon my ability to remain calm and rational, even in the face of disaster. It's a notion that I've tried to dissuade them of, with little success, for two reasons. First of all, there have been many occasions where I've been neither calm nor rational. One example stands out in particular, though I'll forgive its omission, as I don't believe anyone save myself is aware of it. Second, I'm excellent at pretending, or lying if you're feeling uncharitable.

Between that and my stubborn Dalish pride, I didn't have much of a choice beyond trying to hold things together. "We all have." I answered gently. A massive understatement, if ever there was one. I turned to Alistair. "Did Asha'belannar tell you what happened?"

Alistair nodded tightly. "Yes. Loghain quit the field after the signal was lit. I can scarcely believe it!"

"I was there." I said grimly. "The beacon was lit, but the flank charge never materialized. Around the same time, Loghain's handpicked archers stopped firing from the canyon edge. With no archer support or reinforcements, our lines were torn apart by ogres."

His features hardened. "That all points to one person."

I nodded. "Only Loghain could have given those orders."

"That flaming traitor!" He cursed. I blinked in surprise at the harshness of his tone. "Why would he do this?"

"I have a theory, but I'd like to think on it a bit more."

Ellie spoke up. "Could you please stop talking over my head?" She asked reproachfully, muffled by my shirt."

Alistair and I blushed, him more so than I. "Sorry." We said in unison.

I heard a raspy chuckle. "They only talk over your head because you allow them, dear girl. You should try speaking over their heads! It would suit you better than they."

I turned and inclined my head respectfully, my arms still around Ellie. "Asha'belannar."

Alistair was less composed. "Maker's breath!" He hissed when he turned around to see her, standing there as if she'd been there all along. For all I knew, she had.

She cocked her head, amused. "Such manners! I doubt your companions want to use such a cumbersome title, however. Call me Flemeth, if you must."

Alistair made a noise I normally associated with someone being punched in the throat. Ellie gasped. "Flemeth?"

Flemeth harrumphed. "I really should get a new name. It's getting tiresome, everyone assuming I'm going to eat their livers. As if I had nothing better to do!"

"So… you're Flemeth? The Flemeth?" Ellie asked, her voice hushed.

Flemeth made a dismissive gesture. "I'm an old woman that lives in the Wilds and knows a bit of magic. If that's so remarkable, then yes, I'm the Flemeth!"

I wasn't familiar with the human legends surrounding Asha'belannar, but I didn't doubt they were born of fear and superstition. Just as well. A healthy amount of fear was a good thing to have around her. "We mean no disrespect, Asha'belannar." I said, the elvish rolling off my tongue easier than the human name for her. "It's just… how did you rescue us? Why did you rescue us? I do not claim to know you, but among my people you are not known for charity."

She laughed. "No? Is it so odd that I have good reason behind my actions?"

"Knowing your reasons might help alleviate the oddness." I said, trying to keep an edge out of my voice.

"You're a smart lad!" She said mockingly. "Why, when there's an unchecked Blight surrounding my home, would I rescue Grey Wardens?"

Alistair stirred at that. "You rescued us because we're Grey Wardens?"

"If that's the reason you choose, then by all means. It's a good one."

"Then why didn't you rescue Duncan?!" He demanded. "Why didn't you rescue the ones who actually knew what they were doing, instead of the three most junior members?!"

It was a good question. I was curious myself.

Sadly, we didn't hear the true reason for why she rescued us, or how she knew where we were for that matter. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I don't remember the reason she gave us at the time. I imagine she brushed us off, or evaded the question in some way. In any case, what's important isn't the lie she told, but the truth she concealed, and that I only discovered much later.

Not quite satisfied with her answer, and growing increasingly weary of Alistair taking out his frustrations on an old woman that could likely gut him like a fish, I decided to steer the conversation to more productive waters. "How do Grey Warden's end the Blight? None of the other Wardens were particularly forthcoming after my Joining." Flemeth, for her part, was content to listen with an amused expression on her face.

"We have to kill the Archdemon." Ellie, having disentangled herself from my arms, furrowed her brow. "It's supposed to be a dragon of some sort. Kill it, and the horde scatters."

I shot a surprised look at her. "How do you know that?" Did she have the same dream I did?

She did her best to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I lived in a tower full of books for my entire life." She said, sounding both embarrassed and amused at the same time. "All of the old stories agree."

She probably knows what she's talking about. I'd seen the library at Kinloch hold twice during my visit, once during the day, once at night when I'd relieved it of a few choice tomes. On both occasions, I'd been stunned at how many books there were. After living there for the better part of two decades without seeing the outside world or being allowed anything that seemed to approach having fun, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd read every book twice over.

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Right. Fight through the horde, kill the Archdemon, and be back in time for lunch. Why didn't I think of that?"

Ellie flushed. I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and shot Alistair a withering look. "Enough. We need a plan of action, not sarcasm."

"Aw, really? If we needed sarcasm, I'm worth an army."

I frowned. How do I get him to take this seriously? While I was worried about that, the word "army" seemed to have struck a chord with Ellie. "The Grey Wardens of old gathered armies to fight the darkspawn. They can demand aid of anyone, even the Chantry during a Blight."

I snapped my fingers as a thought hit me. "Do we have those treaties we retrieved?"

Ellie nodded and retrieved the small pack she'd carried with her from the Circle. "Duncan gave them to me for safekeeping." I raised an eyebrow. "What?" She said defensively. "The Tower of Ishal was supposed to be the safest place on the battlefield. He asked me to use my magic to preserve them, and left it at that."

"He didn't trust me?" Alistair asked, dismay plain on his face.

Flemeth startled us with a throaty chuckle. "He trusted her to keep them safe. From what I gather, he trusted you to keep her safe."

Alistair's mouth opened and closed a few times before he sighed. "Well, that's something, I suppose." He said, mollified somewhat.

Reminded of Flemeth's presence, I turned to her. "Do you know what an Archdemon is, Asha'belannar?"

"And why do you ask me, hm? History teaches us that it is a dragon that must be slain to end the Blight. Only fools ignore history."

"Only fools ignore the truth." I countered. "And your memory is longer than that of shemlen historians who were not alive during the last Blight."

"HA!" She laughed. "So I'm who you turn to when you seek truth? As I recall, I'm fond of lies as well."

I gave a small smile. "Not now, I think."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because you need the Blight to end, and lying to us will kill you just as easily as it will us." She gave me a long, piercing look, no longer playful. It was hard and cold as a sword in winter. It spoke of unfathomable age, loss, and the undeniable authority she might wield if she so chose. I spoke to Ellie and Alistair afterwards, and they both said that it lasted a heartbeat. It seemed to me like an eternity, near as bad as the nightmare I'd faced. With difficulty, I met her eyes and kept my smile, though it had fled from my eyes and was etched on my face as if I were a statue.

After a long moment, she laughed again, throaty and delighted, the terrible power fleeing and leaving only a batty old woman. "Clever, clever." I heard Ellie give a small sigh of relief. Likely she felt the danger more acutely than Alistair, given her magical training. "Know this, then. An Archdemon is said to be an Old God of the Tevinter Imperium, corrupted by the Blight. It is more than a dragon. It is old and powerful, and none have slain one and lived to speak of it." After a pause, she shrugged. "That is what has reached my ears. Make of it what you will."

There have been many times when I have doubted my course of action. Small moments in a fight, where I gamble with a feint. Longer moments, such as the night before a battle, where there is naught but nerve wracking waiting for one to question every aspect of the chosen strategy. The greatest wave of doubt hit me when Flemeth finished speaking of the Archdemon.

I knew my limits. I'd never fought a dragon of any kind, nor a creature that could breathe fire, and the last time I'd faced a creature with strength beyond men I'd ended up with a fractured leg. And who would fight with me? A former Templar, who was at best reasonably talented in combat, and a mage who could barely defend herself? Before the brilliance I had seen, were but candle flames.

It couldn't be done.

So many lives are at stake.

It was impossible.

Even my people aren't safe.

I wasn't a hero from the stories.

Can I leave them to their fate and do nothing?

I'd die.

I'm dead already. The price for my life was fighting darkspawn.

I sighed inwardly. I can promise nothing. What I CAN do is gather an army. From there… we'll see. "We can't face such a creature alone." I said, drawing looks of worry from Ellie and Alistair. "So we'll gather what troops we can, and point them right down the bastard's throat." I finished, putting some steel into my voice.

Flemeth smiled. "That you will." Good, now we could- "And before you go, I have a favor to ask. Consider it repayment for saving your lives." Shit.

I'd assumed repayment was in the form of ending the Blight, but I didn't think this was the best time to be picky. "What is it?" I said, trying to keep the petulance out of my voice.

She smirked at that. "I ask that you take my daughter with you."

It probably doesn't speak well of me that an image of Morrigan's assets was the first thing that came to mind. If ever she hears this, I don't doubt she would be amused. At the time, however, I was glad for the privacy of my thoughts. She'd have been as apt to laugh or immolate me.

As it was, I nearly died of fright when a raven swooped down and shifted before our eyes into a livid Morrigan, crying, "What?!"

Alistair cursed loudly(albeit religiously, so it was about as threatening as a cat without its claws), while Ellie simply stared with fascination. I was trying to get my heartbeat under control, leaving Flemeth, the only one of us not surprised in the slightest, to respond. "You heard me girl. One would think after eavesdropping for so long you'd have working ears!"

Alistair recovered from his bout of cursing. "Er, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but don't we have enough trouble? I mean, she is an apostate."

Thankfully, Flemeth saved me the trouble of lambasting his religious upbringing. "If it wasn't for us illegal mages, you would be dead on top of that tower."

Alistair had the sense to look appropriately chastened. "Point taken."

Morrigan, meanwhile, wasn't ready to concede defeat. "But Mother, I'm not ready! There's so much more I need to-"

"You need to be ready, girl." Flemeth interjected. "Without you, these Grey Wardens will fail, and the Blight will swallow all. Even I."

With that cheerful vote of confidence, Morrigan gave in. "Very well." She turned to the three of us. "If you will wait a moment, I will gather my things."

Mind you, I don't think she was wholly against the idea of going somewhere that wasn't cold, damp, and populated by an old woman that was entirely too fond of insulting and commanding in the same breath.


Her things, unfortunately, did not include a change of clothes, which meant my ongoing mantra of lookatherfacelookatherface wasn't going to stop any time soon. "I am at your disposal, Wardens." She sounded like she was in pain saying that. I imagine she hadn't planned on seeing us after our departure, and after her rather chilly attitude, this was probably more awkward for her than me. And that was sayings something. "I can offer my opinion on our course of action, or I could simply be your mute guide, if you prefer." She sounded like she expected option two.

Option one it was. "No, I'd prefer you speak your mind."

Flemeth chortled "HA! You'll regret that soon enough."

Morrigan rounded on her. "Dear, sweet mother. I look forward to reminiscing of this moment! Take care to avoid letting the hut burn down, lest I have nothing to come back to!"

Flemeth, per usual, wasn't buying it. "Bah! Far more likely you return and find everything around us swallowed by the Blight!"

"I-"

"I couldn't let you get the last word, could I?" Flemeth chided, half mockingly, half motherly, though describing her as such makes my tongue want to curl up in protest. "Oh, and do try to have fun, dear." Her mouth curved deviously, and her eyes flicked over to me.

What.


Apologies for the wait! The end of the semester is kicking my ass, as it were, and finals are looking to delay the next chapter a bit as well, unfortunately.

Surprisingly, the biggest challenge I found in this chapter was the dialogue. In game, you never question why it takes so little time to come to the decision to singelhandedly gather an army and kill the Archdemon, despite it being a dragon, a god, and surrounded by minldless slaves to its will that vastly outnumber whatever forces you could hope to put together. It was a balance between expediency, as I don't think standing around talking in the wilds is particularly interesting to those who have seen that scene a dozen times, and addressing what actual people, not game characters, might experience.

Of all the chapters, this is the one I'm the least satisfied with, but if you like it, hate it, or want to send it chocolates before I find the time to edit it, leave a review! Every writer depends on good criticism, and much like Aegnor with women, I'm no exception.