Morrigan
You'll walk unscathed through musket fire,
No ploughman's blade will cut thee down,
No cutlass pull will mark thy face,
And you will be my ain true love.
And you will be my ain true love .
And as you walk through death's dark vale,
The cannon's thunder can't prevail,
And those who hunt thee down will fail,
And you will be my ain true love.
And you will be my ain true love.
He was battered almost beyond recognition was her first thought. When Flemeth returned from Ostagar with three Grey Wardens Morrigan couldn't believe that bloody and broken body her mother carried was the handsome young man that she'd found so fascinating in the wilds. Arrows pierced his shoulder and leg, he had broken ribs and bruises that covered his entire body. His scalp was torn and his jaw was broken. The leg not pierced with multiple arrows had twisted at a sickening angle. Temporary bandages had kept the Wardens from bleeding to death but for complete healing, more stringent measures were required.
Inquiring of her mother what had happened had done no good. Flemeth had simply chuckled darkly and said that this was what happened when Darkspawn outnumbered Wardens; when Wardens were betrayed. As the two of them had cleaned and bandaged the wounds of the Wardens Flemeth had elaborated on her brief summation; the general whom everyone had trusted had betrayed his king and the Wardens. The king and most of his army had been killed. The three Grey Wardens Flemeth had rescued were the last in Ferelden. It had been a massacre.
The foolish one, the man who fought with a shield and sword, had been injured but not with great severity. He had several arrows lodged in his shoulder and legs, but apart from a blow to the head seemed unharmed, at least in comparison to his two companions. Flemeth had healed him, roused him from his stupor and shooed him out of the hut while Morrigan had still been cleaning the many wounds his companions had taken.
When Morrigan had been told to give the fool a meal the man had thanked her and introduced himself as Alistair. Before she'd had a chance to tell him that she didn't care about his name the fool had asked about his companions, Maddie first, and then Cogburn. Morrigan had learned, unwillingly through Alistair's rapid monologue, that the other two Grey Wardens were twins, from Highever. That Alistair was a former (almost) Templar, and a full Knight as well as several years older than the other two.
Flemeth had not helped ease the flood of babble when she appeared and told the fool just how badly wounded his companions had been. To his credit, Alistair had seemed genuinely concerned, inquired as to how he might help, and when set to it, gathered and chopped wood, and fetched water. When Morrigan had brought out the leather armor taken off the twins Alistair had rushed to take it from her. His rush of words had explained that cleaning and mending armor was something he'd been taught during his upbringing. Unspoken (for once) went the thought that Morrigan's time was better used tending to Maddie and Cogburn.
He'd given the armor back sooner than Morrigan had anticipated and gone back to worrying and pacing outside the hut. It was at that point that it occurred to Alistair to ask Flemeth what had happened at Ostagar, what had gone wrong that it had been necessary for Flemeth to rescue him and the other two. Flemeth had told him what Loghain had done, and the result, in terms blunt enough that even Alistair could understand. Morrigan had watched as the information penetrated the man's tiny brain. He hadn't wept but his pacing began again and it was obvious that he was deeply upset by what he'd learned. It had been with no small relief that the witch had escaped the fool's company and returned to tending the two younger Wardens.
The young man had been intriguing from the first. He'd come into the wilds with his four companions showing caution but no fear. Unlike the others in his group his scalp was shorn clean of hair completely, exposing his face without exception. It was not a face that required the softening influence of hair surrounding it. A straight nose, dark brown eyes and cheekbones that slashed across his face like knives, his features were both handsome and forbidding. Only his mouth gave a hint of softness, quirking up in humor or affection when he'd glanced at his sister. He'd been quick and dangerous to his foes, single-minded in battle and practical once the warring was done. And when she'd made her own appearance he'd been unfailingly courteous introducing himself as Cogburn.
To be fair, in terms of sheer ability and courtesy his sister, his twin, had been his equal, but as Morrigan wasn't attracted to women she found Cogburn more appealing than Maddie. He was interesting to look at and polite… and he didn't seem to have any problems with the fact that she was, as Alistair called her, a Witch of the Wilds. When she'd led the little group to meet her mother and retrieve their treaties Morrigan could practically feel the young man's eyes on her. He'd seemed to find her as fascinating as she found him.
Morrigan had watched helplessly as both twins were laid on the bed. Before Flemeth had gotten Alistair out of the hut his eyes had flown around the room until they alighted on the female Warden, Maddie. He'd appeared horrified and in truth, Morrigan could see why. Smaller than her brother by at least six inches, the girl had taken several arrows one dangerously close to her lungs and heart. She too had bruises and cracked ribs, and one shoulder was completely dislocated and twisted as if someone had tried to tear it off. The most worrisome injury was her skull, it appeared that she'd taken a massive blow to the head; the entire right side of her face and scalp was black with bruises.
Neither of these two neophyte Grey Wardens had fared well in the battle against the Darkspawn, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Flemeth. Healing magic was not something Morrigan was well versed in and Flemeth had been required to do a great deal of healing on both of these young folk. Now Morrigan was responsible for keeping them from becoming too feverish and cleaning the wounds by mundane means.
A fever could be helpful, but with wounds like these, anything greater than a slight fever was dangerous. Such meant that the wounds weren't cleaned well enough. Magic could do many things but even Flemeth's power could not completely heal an injury infected with dirt. Checking the dressings and wounds every few hours were a matter of course and tiresome as it was, it was needful. "If that fool could be trusted to be silent I would enlist his aid to help you whilst I saw to your sister." Morrigan told an unconscious Cogburn, pleased to find his fever nearly gone. "But he cannot be quiet for more than two breaths, and waking you would be entirely counterproductive. Perhaps you would find his noise comforting?" She replaced the warm cloth with a cool one and pulled a blanket over the young man.
His face would be unscarred; she imagined he'd be pleased by that. Men were as vain as women in their way. "Your sister took several arrows and resembles a torn rag doll," Morrigan murmured as he twitched in his sleep, his hands reaching for something. "She had only a cracked skull, not a broken jaw or torn scalp. I think you two are evenly matched in injuries."
The Witch moved to check on the girl and found Maddie still a bit feverish but that too was ebbing. Morrigan shook her head in irritation. "Really, what were they thinking?" She asked the girl quietly. "'Tis obvious the two of you had already been through a battle even before the Wilds just by the age of this scar." She touched a recent slice to Maddie's upper arm. "Those wounds barely healed they first put you through the Joining and then only hours after recuperating from that, they send you into battle? It takes months for the body to acclimate to the Taint. Are they complete fools?"
"Desperate, I think." Cogburn's voice was weak but unmistakable.
Morrigan turned with a frown. "You awaken." She moved to his side and removed the cloth from his forehead, automatically checking his forehead. "Your fever is gone." The witch gestured to Maddie. "Hers lingers but should clear soon. The blow to the head delays her recovery."
"Thank you for your aid Morrigan." The words of gratitude were straightforward and sincere Morrigan could hear it in his voice.
"Well, it is Mother you should thank. I merely did as she bade me." Morrigan returned to Maddie's bedside. "Your injuries were severe. The man who was to aid you quit the field. Your battle was lost." She hesitated. "Your friend…is not taking it well."
"Alistair is alive?" Cogburn's smile was like lightening across his face.
Morrigan could not understand why that brought such pleasure to the young rogue's face but there was no comprehending men. "He is indeed. He and your hound are outside." She laid a cool cloth over Maddie's forehead and another on her neck.
"Will my sister be well?" The smile that had lingered in his voice was gone as his gaze took in the pallor of his twin.
Morrigan considered the girl thoughtfully before she looked at the man. "As I said, her fever lingers…she took a mighty blow to the head and an arrow very near her lungs. But Mother's magic is exceptional. I would look for her fever to fade and she waken before the end of the day."
Cogburn nodded. "Would you like me to stay and help you or will I be in the way?" His query was slightly muffled as he twisted this way and that, buckling on armor.
The Witch tilted her head. "Whilst I have no doubt of your capability, our ends might be best served if you have speech with your companion. The longer he remains without the more certain I am that he will eventually barge in, bringing dirt and idiocy along."
That lightening grin flashed across the young man's face again, "Got it," he nodded, "distract Alistair from worrying by proving I'm alive and, by extension, Maddie is also likely to live."
At the sound of her name the girl murmured something unintelligible, her head moving restlessly. Morrigan carefully adjust the cloths against the girl's skin and turned to Cogburn, her voice low. "Her fever is not worsened…perhaps she will wake soon."
"But voices disturb her, at least mine does." Cogburn drew his own conclusions, carefully keeping his tones quiet. "I'll go relieve Alistair's mind."
"What little he has." Morrigan muttered with a roll of her eyes. She watched him leave after he pulled on boots and gloves as quietly as possible, gathering up his pack with a stealth that spoke well of his abilities as a rogue. Even the door was opened and closed in near silence, a neat trick considering the hinges had not been oiled in some time. Morrigan turned her attention back to the girl.
She looked…like a golden mirror, Morrigan decided with a sly smile, as if she'd smash to pieces when thrown to the ground. But surely looks were deceiving; the delicate pink lips were firm in the frown that held her face, as if she fought even in the nightmares that clearly haunted her sleep. That boded well for recovery and for all of her mental faculties remaining intact despite the blow she'd taken. The girl also had calluses on her slender hands and fingers, and tiny silver white scars on her hands, as if she used herself roughly in her own endeavors. Maddie was…nearly as interesting as her brother, Morrigan decided, her smile widening, pretty to look at but with steel underneath.
It was several hours later that a quiet almost husky voice spoke to the woman tending a pot of stew by the fires. "Morrigan?"
The Witch of the Wilds turned and almost smiled. The girl was sitting up and looking around with a confused gaze as well she might. She'd been unconscious before Flemeth had taken dragon form and carried the three Wardens away. "And you are Maddie." The Witch grinned and the girl offered a tentative half smile back.
"My—Cogburn?" Maddie was looking a bit frantic. "Alistair?"
"Both well." Morrigan found herself unintentionally soothing the girl. "You're the last to waken."
"Well Cogburn will never let me live that down." Maddie grumbled, her smile widening.
TBC
