time to saVE THE FUKCIn g world.


8. The Art of Subtlety


The battle was a disaster.

The nightmares about marching darkspawn and screaming dragons were bad omen enough, making the pouring rain and terrifyingly-close lighting completely unnecessary from a superstitious view. The idea of climbing a massive tower to the very top in the middle of a lightning storm did not sit well with Bree, but at least it was better than facing the innumerable darkspawn below.

The word 'horde' gained a new meaning that day. Bree had felt heartened by the expanse of the king's army, just until the darkspawn appeared over the far ridge and the massive throng of humans was dwarfed by the pure expanse of the distorted creatures. They seemed unending as they marched over the ridge, line after line appearing until the world seemed to be made up of these creatures.

I was right, she thought to herself. We need the damned Orlesians.

And then, of course, the Tower of Ishal had been overrun with darkspawn, everyone dead inside except the three of them and too many of those unnatural beasts. Bree fired arrow after arrow, making sure to kill the darkspawn archers first so that she could loot their quivers as she kept nearly running out of her missiles. Without arrows, she would have to resort to battle magic. She was nearly as inept at battle magic as she was at healing, added to the fact that she did not want a dramatic confrontation with Alistair-The-Former-Templar as they were fighting for their lives in a tower filled with enemies.

It did not help that Luka was barely holding himself together as they ascended. He started shaking every time a window showed him just how high off the ground they were, and he looked more nauseous with each clap of thunder. Bree whispered encouragements and jokes while making sure not to let Alistair notice Luka's rare moment of weakness. Additionally, she used soft, subtle magic when she could, forming a quick barrier to keep one of her allies from being gutted, or pushing mana into them to relieve some of their exhaustion. So far, it appeared that the constant pulse of darkspawn in their heads kept Alistair from noticing the disruption of the Veil, and that was how she wanted to keep it.

Thankfully, Bree's magic was not constantly needed because both Luka and Alistair could hold their own in a fight. Luka was positively deadly with those two daggers of his, darting in and out of the battle to dispatch any of the creatures who had the bad judgment to focus on the heavily-armored Alistair. Alistair himself was proficient with that longsword and shield, bashing and stabbing even as he was surrounded by enemies, while Luka watched his back and kept the darkspawn from sliding a rusty sword through his weak spots. Bree kept the archers off them all, killing as many of the darkspawn as she could before they even reached the two fighters up front.

When they reached the top of the tower, bloody and sore from constant fighting, they just had to be attacked by a massive creature that made the entire tower full of darkspawn seem like a pesky anthill. The creature was a dark, dull blue color, similar in appearance to the squat genlocks but at least five times larger, with rippling muscles and curled horns sharpened to a point. The damn thing enjoyed sprinting faster than it should be able to, so Bree spent more time running from the beast's reckless charges than she did shooting arrows at it. It took too long for comfort, but Alistair eventually hobbled one of its legs, and Luka jabbed it in the throat so many times that he nearly decapitated it.

With the corpse of the ogre draining blood on the old cobblestones, Alistair limped over to the stack of wood that would be the beacon, struck a match, and dully watched it flare to life. The three of them gazed out the nearby window, uncaring of the rain that pelted their faces, and waited for the reinforcements to arrive.

...And waited.

...And waited.

Instead, they watched the horde overwhelm the entire army of humans. None of them spoke, Bree guessing that they, like she was, were wondering if this was some sort of sick dream, praying that they had not just slaughtered their way through a tower and felled an ogre just to be ignored.

Then, of course, things got worse. As they do.

A clattering of footsteps on the stairs was their first hint that something was wrong, and then the sound of multiple bodies slamming against the door on the other side of the room confirmed that notion. The door burst open to reveal a stairwell packed full of darkspawn with eyes only for the three Gray Wardens—perhaps the last three alive.

xXxXxXx

Bree had not been expecting to wake up, certainly not in a relatively comfortable bed and naked except for her smallclothes.

"Ah, you have awoken."

Bree looked around to find that she was being watched by a familiar woman. "…Morrigan?" she remembered slowly. "What... am I doing..."—Bree looked around curiously but did not recognize the small room—"...here?"

"You recall my name," the woman said calmly. "I admit that I am surprised, as I do not recall yours."

Bree puffed out a laugh and tried to slide out of the bed, only to find that her legs were not particularly thrilled by the concept and only allowed her to tumble to the ground. "I'm Bree," she mumbled from her place sprawled out on the floor.

"Indeed," Morrigan said, clear disinterest in her tone. "Do you remember anything of how you came to be in Mother's home?"

Bree blinked, gingerly picking herself off the ground, and tested her stability more slowly this time. She seemed able to move now, at least, even if with difficulty. Bree stared at Morrigan as she tried to remember. How exactly did I…

"Oh," she said, eyes widening in realization. "The darkspawn killed everyone." She looked down at herself, unsurprised to see bandages across her ribs and chest. "Including me, I thought."

"Yes, 'twas lucky that Mother reached you when she did. Any longer and she could not have been of help. Even Mother cannot raise the dead."

Bree nodded thoughtfully as she straightened her posture. "Alright, then," she said. "Thank you." She smiled and stretched painfully, feeling nearly all her joints pop at once.

"…You are welcome," Morrigan mumbled as if embarrassed, "although 'twas Mother who healed you."

With a shrug, Bree took a few steps forwards, delighted to find that her legs had decided to follow her instructions again. "Doesn't matter," she said. "I'm intruding on your home, and that's reason enough to be grateful to you."

"This is true." Bree felt Morrigan watching her and she toddled around the small cottage with unsteady steps. "I must admit I am surprised," she finally said. "You seem to be taking the death of your entire order quite well."

Bree laughed and grinned at Morrigan. "I've cheated death four times now," she said. "That's good enough for me. Plus, it was obvious everyone was gonna die because of how damn stupid our stupid damn king is."

She looked around and saw the bright fabrics of her clothes folded neatly at the foot of the bed. They were washed and pressed, and her cleaned bow was resting beside her quiver on top of them. She made her way towards her things as she continued the conversation.

"I was a Warden for less than a day," she explained, "so I'm not particularly attached to them."

Morrigan nodded as though pleased, and Bree began dressing herself, delighted to find all her things in perfect condition. "Your elven friend seems shocked but capable, while the other is about to drown himself in his own tears," she said. "You are the last to regain consciousness."

Bree perked up immediately as she clasped her capelet about her shoulders. "Luka's alive?" she asked. "The blonde elf who always looks angry?"

"That… is an accurate description of one of the living Wardens," Morrigan said slowly, watching Bree with her brow furrowed. "You care not about your other friend?"

It took Bree a moment to connect 'friend' with 'Alistair,' but when she did, she laughed. "I don't particularly want him dead," she said, "but he can sod off for all I care."

"You know, you're a lot meaner than you pretend to be," Luka said from the doorway. She had not heard him approach, but she supposed that was normal for a sneaky bastard like him.

With a squeak of joy, Bree rushed over to him and hugged him around his middle. He flinched and pushed her away gently, just as Bree realized he was most likely injured as well. "Oops, sorry," she laughed. Grinning mischievously, she poked him on the chest. "And you're much nicer than you pretend to be. Big ol' softy." He glowered at that and smacked her gently upside the head before turning to leave. Bree made to follow him, until she remembered to give Morrigan a curtsy. "Thanks again!" she said cheerfully, and Morrigan inclined her head with an uncertain look in her eyes.

That was when the consequences of cheating death for the fourth time made themselves known. According to Flemeth, they were the last three Gray Wardens in Ferelden, the last hope against the Fifth Blight, and all they had at their disposal was a sheaf of papers telling various groups that it was their duty to commit suicide against the Archdemon. Luka seemed only slightly more excited that she, but Alistair was blubbering delightedly at the prospect.

All they had to do was traverse the entire country, convince unwilling innocents to kill darkspawn on the massacred Gray Warden order's behalf, defeat the traitorous Loghain, take back the throne from said traitor, unify the country against the blight, kill the giant dragon known as the Archdemon, and drive all the darkspawn back into the Deep Roads.

Easy-peasy.

The revelation that Morrigan was to join them took some of the wind out of Alistair's sails, and he tried to convince Bree and Luka that it was a bad idea for an apostate—a swamp witch, no less—to accompany them on their grand adventure. Bree simply threatened to turn him into a toad, earning a wicked smile from Morrigan, while Luka reminded Alistair that they needed all the help they could against the Blight and that Wardens took in anyone, no matter their background. Alistair agreed reluctantly, but not before shooting suspicious glances at both Bree and Morrigan.

"And off goes the merry little band," Alistair muttered as they took the supplies Flemeth offered and began their trek north through the Wilds. "The heroes, aided by two scary women, begin their treacherous journey to the small village of Lothering, in search of allies to defeat the terrible blight."

"Two women indeed," Morrigan snapped right back, "and both mages who can boil your blood at the most minor of provocations."

Alistair halted in the middle of stepping over a log as both Bree and Luka froze solid. Morrigan slowed to a stop as well once she realized that she was the only one still moving.

"You're a mage?" Alistair yelped, nearly falling over the log. "Maker's breath, I thought you were kidding about all the toads!"

Bree raised her eyes to the heavens and cursed the universe for saving her life four times over but giving her luck as rotten as felled darkspawn left out in the sun for a week. "Thank you, Morrigan," she grumbled, "for telling the former templar that I'm an illegal apostate."

"Oh, 'twas not common knowledge?" Morrigan said innocently, but the wicked gleam in her eyes betrayed her insincerity. "I sensed it immediately, unlike this former templar." She snorted disdainfully, then again adopted a crafty expression. "I do apologize, but I must inquire as to why one would feel the need to hide such a gift."

Bree snorted and waved a hand, causing Alistair to flinch slightly. "I didn't live in the middle of nowhere like you, Morrigan, so throwing my magic about is the fastest way to get me captured or killed. And then I hafta pummel all the templars and it's just a pain in my ass."

"Speaking from experience, are we?" Alistair asked in a tone that seemed to be wavering between sarcasm and nervousness.

"Oh, she is," Luka said with a smile at Alistair, then glanced at Bree. "How did you put it?" he asked lightly. "You slammed a door in a templar's face and then kicked him in the balls?"

Bree nodded, surprised to hear a peal of laughter from Morrigan, and she grinned. "It's funny now," she admitted, "but hiding your magic is better than having a sword held to your throat by a bunch of angry mage-hunters." She looked pointedly at Alistair, who seemed surprised.

"Who, me?" he sputtered. "I wasn't a templar by choice, I'll have you know," he said. "The whole killing mages if they don't pass their Harrowing bit was more than I wanted to deal with."

Bree smiled at him. "That's… good to hear," she said honestly, "because I will gladly kick you in the balls if you try to use some holy smite on me."

Alistair blanched, nodded quickly, and nearly stumbled over a tree root this time. "Yes ma'am," he said. "I've seen you fight without magic, and I'd like to keep my family jewels."

"I hadn't realized you possessed any," Morrigan quipped, and Bree snickered. Even Luka smiled but patted Alistair consolingly on the shoulder. "Were you ever in a Circle?" Morrigan asked her. "You seem far too…" She looked at Bree as if struggling to find a word that was not outright insulting. "Free-spirited," was what she decided on.

"I was in a Circle," Bree admitted. Morrigan's expression soured, while Luka and Alistair looked deliciously shocked. "For all of two hours before I dropped a paralysis glyph, ran like a fish being chased by a shark, and rowed my way back to shore." Morrigan and Luka smiled, pleased with Bree's endeavors, while Alistair continued being confused, as he was wont.

"Fish don't run," he pointed out.

"Let's pretend I magicked a fish so it could," Bree countered.

"I can live with that," Alistair said, "but how did you trap a group of templars without them dissipating your magic?"

"Unlike a lot of mages," Bree said just a tad disdainfully, "I'm not powerless without magic, and I can still function even with the sickness a spell purge causes. Plus, I wasn't stupid and just cast a bunch of random fireballs. I made a discreet glyph, ran like a running fish, and the templars were trapped before they could negate the magic."

Alistair whistled and shook his head. "I've never heard of a mage escaping from templars without bloodshed," he said.

"Most mages are stupid," Bree stated bluntly and Morrigan chimed in her agreement. "They rely so completely on magic and are so attuned with their mana that they just panic when stripped of one or both. I'm not most mages."

"Yes," Alistair snorted. "I noticed."

"I never asked," Luka suddenly broke in, "but if you're a mage, why don't you carry a staff? Or wear robes?"

Bree laughed at him and shook her head wildly. "First lesson of apostasy," she instructed. "Don't look like an apostate." Morrigan chuckled, and even Alistair grudgingly conceded her point. "Believe me when I say that there are apostates running about everywhere. It's just the ones that piddle around with suspicious-looking walking sticks and clothes that are utterly impractical for travel that get caught."

"That's a comforting thought," Alistair muttered.

After that, Alistair fell into a brooding silence with clear grief on his face, most likely thinking about Ostagar. Bree tried to keep the group from falling into awkwardness by chattering incessantly about anything that came to mind, as Morrigan was shooting Alistair disapproving glances at his moroseness and Luka seemed worried for his fellow Warden. Bree's constant conversation was as much for herself as it was for the others; it kept her mind occupied on inane things rather than the magnitude of the impossible task ahead of them. Three Wardens plus an apostate we happened upon in a forest up against the world? Sounds like some ridiculous novel, and I am not saving-the-world type.

Being outed as a mage to everyone had not been as traumatizing as Bree expected. She had been waiting for a lot more suspicion and threats from Alistair, but he seemed only uncomfortable, not aggressive. Still, Bree was glad that Luka had found out first; feeling ganged up on by both him and Alistair would have been overwhelming. At least now Bree would be able to use her magic openly, shielding and bolstering her allies with greater ease than if she were trying to hide traces of her ability.

Bree would never be a flamboyant mage—it was not in her nature to blast spells around willy-nilly—but the subconscious fear of judgment was gone. Her opinion of Alistair had also increased ever so slightly when he mentioned that he did not undergo his templar training by choice. I thought all templars wanted to be sadistic bastards.

Luka seemed to have made himself the impromptu leader of their 'merry little band,' as Alistair had called it. He led the way without being asked, tense and watchful but at ease in the front of the group. Bree contented herself with bouncing back and forth between him and Morrigan, who was trailing in the back. Alistair did not appreciate how she 'accidentally' bumped into him every time she passed by from one end of the group to the other, even going so far as to changing her trajectory when he tried to move out of the way, but Bree played innocent to all his complaints.

Luka seemed to be talkative only when she and he were alone, uncomfortable speaking freely around Alistair and Morrigan, so Bree reminded herself to seek him out when they made camp to find out his thoughts on this mess they were in. She missed the easy camaraderie between the two of them alone, although she found herself enjoying Morrigan's presence as well.

Like herself, Morrigan delighted in needling Alistair, although the woman was a bit more cruel than Bree was. Morrigan also seemed quite disdainful of their whole situation, something that Bree related to wholeheartedly, yet Morrigan was more flippant about the well-being of people than Bree would have preferred. Bree felt an immediate sort of draw towards her. Morrigan was also an apostate, just like Bree. Although she had not lived among civilization like Bree had, she was still well-versed in her dislike of both Circles and templars.

Additionally, Morrigan was more than very much pleasing to the eye.

Luka and Alistair were attractive as well in their own ways, but neither compared to the tall slice of walking sex that was Morrigan. From her strategically placed fabrics to her dangling jewelry of just the right length, Morrigan's apparel was reason enough to stare, but she also had the features to back it up: imperious cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, lashes that went on for miles, and voluptuous curves that would stir a eunuch. Bree herself had curves, enough to turn a gaze at least, but she had nothing on the pure femininity that exuded from her fellow mage. Of course, anyone lulled into complacency from Morrigan's appearance would be eaten raw by her wolfish temper.

The thought was almost thrilling, but Bree kept it to herself as she continued amusing her best friend and her new friend with anecdotes.

Just as she was starting to run out of topics to ramble on about, they were attacked by a small contingent of darkspawn. Bree was almost relieved by the easy pattern of battling; she did not have to think about politics and forging connections, only which disgusting fiend was going to get an arrow and in which eye.

Part of the way through the fight, however, a massive dog sprang from the undergrowth and mauled two of the remaining darkspawn in a matter of seconds. Luka slashed the throat of the last one, and Bree screeched as the dog fixed its eyes on her and sprinted towards her as fast as it could.

Without thinking, Bree raised her hands and mimed a short tune with her fingers. The dog froze as though encased in ice, three of its paws off the ground, its face barely five feet in front of Bree. Keeping a shaky hand raised, Bree realized that everyone else was watching her.

" 'Tis an immobilization spell," Morrigan said curiously, "but you have nothing through which to channel your magic."

"Wait, you just immobilized a charging mabari with just your hands?" Alistair cried. Sometimes, Bree forgot that normal mages channeled their power through a staff. Perhaps that was why her offensive and healing magic were so weak.

Still frightened, Bree barely managed to look closer at the dog. "Oh," she realized. "It's a mabari." Another look revealed that this was the mabari that she had helped muzzle in Ostagar, which was an odd sort of coincidence and further proof to her connectedness of all life theory. "Hey there, little kitty," she said soothingly, her voice only trembling a little, as she gradually lessened the spell.

The mabari had calmed down by the time it was completely free, and it trotted over to her with bright-eyed joy. It was soaked disturbingly in blood and small clumps of torn darkspawn flesh, so Bree quickly backed up. Unoffended, it wagged its stumpy tail and panted happily in contrast with its fearsome appearance. Its nose nearly reached her chest, but it only snuffled and drooled a little on the ground near her. Hesitant and shivering in terror, Bree reached out a hand and awkwardly patted the creature on the head. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

"Er, good"—She quickly checked the undercarriage—"boy." The mabari huffed in response and bounced her hand with his head. He seemed quite content to stand next to Bree, so she simply remained still, hoping he would eventually grow bored and leave.

"It looks like that mabari imprinted on you," Alistair said, a fair amount of surprise in his voice. "I thought you were afraid of dogs."

"I… I am," Bree whimpered, dread filling her from the soles of her boots to the roots of her hair. "Do you mean… this is… this is gonna follow me around… everywhere?"

Alistair cracked a smile at her, one not without malice. "Until death," he affirmed. "Mabari are loyal creatures." He crouched down so that he was eye level to the dog and his voice turned high-pitched. "Yes, you're just a big puppy, aren't you? A good puppy." The mabari barked in response and gave Alistair a gory, drool-filled lick right smack on the mouth. Alistair stood up slowly, wiped his face, and glared at the dog. "Right, well, have fun with this guy," he said.

The dog looked at Bree, his eyes big, brown, and pleading. Bree felt her heart melt just slightly, reminding herself that he was nothing but a giant cat. Just a giant, giant cat. She took a deep breath and patted him awkwardly on the head.

"Good kitty," she mumbled. "Just… keep killing darkspawn and don't kill me, okay?" The dog barked happily and wagged his stumpy tail so hard that his entire rear shook back and forth. It was somewhat endearing, and Bree calmed a bit with the realization that this joyful creature was nothing like a wolf.

"That's what you named him?" Luka snorted, and Bree stared at him, taking a few moments to realize what he meant.

She stared at the dog—no, the giant cat—and smiled. "Yup," she stated cheerfully. "He's a good Kitty, isn't he?"

"You don't mean to bring this mangy beast with us?" Morrigan snipped, and Bree grinned at her.

"We Wardens don't turn down help when offered, eh Luka?"

Luka laughed quietly and nodded. "Maybe it'll help you get over your fear of dogs," he said. "Then you won't hide behind me the moment you see a damn cub."

"You're a proper Fereldan now," Alistair added. "Mabari are basically our gods."

"Well, I'm his god now," Bree said proudly, giving Kitty another stiff pat on the head.

Kitty barked happily while Alistair muttered something along the lines of "creepy mages and their god complexes." Without responding, Bree brushed him on the elbow as she walked by, releasing a tiny zap of electricity into his skin that made him yelp and jump away.

"This is why people hate mages," Alistair grumbled as he rubbed his arm and glared at her.

"Yep," Bree laughed. "We're all locked up 'cause we have the power to shock people without rubbing our socks all over the rug."

" 'Tis a truly fearful ability," Morrigan agreed.

"Though with our luck, the darkspawn will be immune to small shocks," Luka added. "We'll have to kill them with more deadly things. Like snowballs."

"Yes, in late spring," Alistair drawled. "I'm sure we'll find snowballs neatly packed and waiting for us wherever we go."

"We can dream," Luka said, and Bree grinned.

"Good idea!" she said. "I'll just bring everyone in the Fade so we can play in the snow!"

"Or," Morrigan snapped, "it might be easier to simply create snow. With magic."

"Not for me," Bree replied mournfully. "If we're to have any hope of defeating the blight, we gotta dream about snow as hard as we can."

Kitty barked happily at the thought of frolicking through snow, and Bree jumped at the sound. Alistair snickered, and then the group fell into a lighthearted banter that carried them almost entirely to Lothering.