A/N : So this chapter is basically what I like to call a filler, but it's here for a purpose. Things in this chapter need to happen for you to understand later events. Also, it's very long, I know, what can I say, I'm a fan of long chapters.
Disclaimer : This is for fun. Bioware knows I own nadda.
Chapter Ten : The Great Unknown
The Frostbacks are relentless and cold, while the small group slowly makes their way up a path in the mountain range. The ground is covered in a light blanket of fluffy snow, as are the tall Pines. Keira tightens her grip on her staff and shields her face with her thickly furred hood as a gust of wind sends shivers down her spine. At the head of the line, is Alistair, chilled to the bone he turns to his companions.
"I think we should make camp there." He points to a small clearing in the near by forest. Surround by large trees and rocks, the area seems the perfect spot to shield them from the unforgiving weather.
Not wasting any time, the group enters the clearing while there's still day light left. Bodahn uses his cart as much as possible to block the remaining winds from passing through. Sten begins chopping down large branches while the others look for large logs to burn. Once a decent amount of wood is put together, Keira closes her eyes, flicks her wrist and flames begin to crackle in the fire pit.
Pulling her cloak closer around her frame, Amell rubs at her arms hoping to help subside her shivering. Noticing her obvious discomfort, Cullen wraps his extra furs around her shoulders. The Antivan Crow catches this behavior from the corner of his eye.
"I do hope you brought warmer clothing, my dear Warden. Wouldn't want any of your..." His eyes follow the length of her body. "Beautiful body to be damaged by the effects of the cold."
Accepting the additional layer from the Templar, the mage exhales softly. "I do, yes. Thank you for your concern." She tries to offer a polite smile, but finds all she can do is allow her teeth to chatter.
"Hmmm...I'm assuming you've never experienced weather such as this?" Zevran is actually curious, what has a mage, locked in a tower for most of its life, experienced?
"I..." The dark-haired mage continues to shiver. "It gets cold...in the tower...in the winter..." She visibly tries to shake off her insistent chills. "I'm not use to the wind...or the snow..."
"Not to mention, the strain of being outside in these conditions. It's going to be difficult for her to get use to." Cullen adds.
"Interesting." Zev raises a brow. "So you've never ventured on the grounds of the island during winter?"
Keira nods. "No."
"But you have." The bold elf points out and lets his gaze drift to the large Templar.
Cullen glares in the direction of the assassin. "You know I have."
"To capture or kill the likes of our dear leader here." Zevran's smile turns into a smirk.
"Blood mages and malifeficarum or those who were a danger to others and themselves. All whom are nothing like Amell." The Templar informs sternly.
"I see...so if our dear Leader were to...how do you say it? Turn into an abomination or dabble in the art of blood magic...you would have no problem striking her down?" The assassin knows what he's doing, however he doesn't know if his point is getting across.
"He would do what is deemed necessary. End of story." Keira's gaze focuses on the fire. "At least, that's what I hope he would do...It's a fear every mage has...to be twisted and turned into something so horrifying. The way most of us see it...he would be putting us out of our misery."
Turning back to his charge, Cullen squeezes her shoulder. "Come. L-lets find your warmer garments." The Templar ushers her back towards the cart.
"Do you think he could do it?" Alistair inquires, while tossing more wood into the pit.
"Yes." The elf rolls out a bed roll on top of his wolf skins.
"How do you know that?" The bastard prince dusts off his hands on his trousers and also rolls out his bedding for the night.
Looking up towards the stars, Zev almost laughs out loud. "I have this incredible ability to read people..." He side glances the prince and continues sorting out his equipment.
"What's that suppose to mean?" Knowing that there's some hidden meaning there, Alistair regards the elf with bitterness.
"It means, my friend...you shouldn't judge him so lightly. Do you think you could kill her, if you had to?" The assassin pulls his twin blades from his pack and begins to sharpen them. For some reason, the noise of the stone gliding along the edge of the dagger is rather soothing to Alistair.
"I..." He honestly doesn't know.
Snickering, Zevran continues to tend to his blade. "You see my friend...not such an easy task your fellow Templar has been burdened with hmmm?"
"Yeah...I guess...wait a minute..." Alistair curls his lip, a bit frustrated with this bronzed elf. "For someone who's all talk-y...you haven't said if you could...well you know!"
The noise of the stone hitting metal stops briefly. "Ah...the golden question. It's what I do." Sighing, Zevran spits on the stone and continues his work. "I would not take pleasure in the kill...no...but it would need to be done."
Alistair tosses a few lone branches into the flames. "Well, it doesn't matter. She's not going to turn into an abomination or whatever...so we don't need to think or talk about it anymore."
Deciding to let the conversation drop, the assassin concludes that he's discovered more about their little party then he originally intended. His eyes ever seeking information surveys the camp without anyone paying any attention to him. He notices the massive Sten, sitting on the opposite side of the pit, also mending his weapon. The city elf, Ty is clumsily skinning their meal, while Sandal studies the dead animal through the gaps between his fingers that shield his eyes. Bodahn seems to be constructing a lean-to of sorts, while Cullen holds up a large sheet to shelter their view of the mage Amell.
"A-are you quite finished y-yet?" The Templar stammers, not enjoying his current, forced, form of labor.
"Sorry Cullen. I know I'm making you uncomfortable, but there's no one else as tall as you...other then Sten and well..." Keira's feet can be seen near the hem of the sheet as she continues to dress herself.
"I-I understand...but this is one reasons w-we should have h-had another woman in the group." Cullen, for extra measure also has both of his eyes closed.
"Oh do get over it." Amell giggles. "There, done." She basically rips the cloth from his hands. "All warm now." What a difference. The air doesn't seem as crisp with all these layers on. Brown leggings and fur-lined boots will help keep her mobile and warm. A new leather corset, with straps in the front, will continue to protect her organs from harm. Her enchanted beige blouse and matching slit squirting are all part of the mage get up that will help with her spell castings.
Alistair's eyes almost fall from his skull when he turns his head and catches a glimpse of her. Accidentally poring half of his hot beverage down his chin and chest, he quickly stands and brushes himself off. "Damn it! That burns!" He clears his throat and tries not to look directly at the mage. "That's your warmer clothing?" He raises a brow and clears his throat once more, trying to hint to her obviously exposed chest.
"Yes." Keira looks to him puzzled as she reclaims her cloak and borrowed furs. "Is there something wrong with it?"
"I uhh..." The prince looks around to the other men who all shake their heads, some embarrassed, others not bothered. "You just look a little...exposed."
Cullen slaps his forehead with his palm, loudly. Alistair glances in the other Templar's direction and shrugs his shoulders. "What?"
"Oh?" Keira looks down to her abdomen. "I guess I could have gotten a better corset, but mages needs as much flexibility as possible. It makes spell casting more effective and allows us to react quicker."
"Uh huh."
Daylight has gone, and a clear night sky replaces it. The stars shine brightly as Keira studies them. Body content with a full belly of food and wine, her thoughts drift to her friend, Thalia. The sounds of laughter and chatter fading as her thoughts push them aside. Is she looking at the same beautiful star filled sky? Maker is she alright?
Smiling brightly while listening to one of Bodahn's tales, Cullen catches a glimpse of the mage. The Templar takes a seat beside the dark-haired woman and looks up to the same shimmering specks of light. "S-she'll be alright, you know."
"I know." Keira exhales deeply. "I think I would feel it...you know? If something were wrong...or if she were..."
"I think you're right." Cullen agrees. The bond the two mages share is undeniably strong. He believes whole heartedly, that if something were to happen to Thalia, that Amell would sense it.
"But Maker knows I can't stop worrying about her." She giggles and hugs her knees close to her chest.
"I h-had a talk with Fergus...before we all parted ways." Cullen begins plucking pebbles from the cold ground.
Snorting, Keira turns to him, interested. "Really? What did you say? Or should I say, what did you threaten?"
"That if she were harmed in anyway...I would hold him responsible for it." The Knight admits, shyly.
"Cullen, that wasn't very nice of you!" She nudges the man with her shoulder. "You should have said that to Kate, I'm sure she would be more capable for the job." The two companions laugh.
"I believe you're right." Becoming more serious, Cullen tosses his little rocks aside. "A-and what about you? How..how are you holding up?"
"Me? Fine." The mage tugs her cloak closer. "You know, nothing like an impending doom to keep the mind at ease."
The Templar chews at his inner lip. Thinking. The conversation doesn't continue, instead they seem to silently agree to continue listening to the tall tales being told by those around the fire. The hours pass by and still they all take turns. Zev revisits old memories as he joyfully recites all his favorite conquests, most have the two Templars blushing shades of red Keira has never seen before. As the night continues and Cullen becomes more tired, he decides to lean back against the large tree stump.
The fade is calling, he can feel it. A warm wind, his name echoed in the distance. A green mist begins to pick up and he can hear a hissing noise and then something calling out his name once more. Just as he begins to take a few steps forward, he trips and falls. Landing on his side, he turns to push himself up off the ground, a strong hand grabs his shoulder and shakes roughly. "Cullen!" Turning quickly, he comes face to face with the corpse of his mentor. The dead eyes of Greagoire seem to pierce into his soul.
"Cullen!"
Flashing open his eyes, fear still forcing his heart to run a marathon, Cullen realizes that he had been dreaming. This time instead of meeting the eyes of a dead Templar, he's greeted with those of a concerned one.
"Maker, Cullen. I've been all but yelling at you." Alistair let's go of the other man's shoulder. "Are you alright? Looks like you saw a ghost."
"I-I...just a nightmare."
"Alright, well it's your turn for watch, but I can take hers next go...she seems...exhausted. This really is that difficult and different for her isn't it?" Alistair glances to Cullen's side. The Knight follows the prince's gaze to see Keira, curled up against his left side, hugging his arm while silently dozing.
Quickly, his eyes dart back to the man before him, hoping he'll have a solution for his current dilemma. Alistair slowly backs away just as lost as to what they should do.
"Sorry, thought you were alright with it. You fell asleep, Bodahn was telling a story about how he convinced a man to sell him this cart...when I looked over my shoulder, I noticed she was yawning, a lot. Next time I glanced over, she was leaning against your shoulder. Didn't think nothing of it. You had been sleeping for sometime. Figured that maybe she'd get uncomfortable and move or something..."
Cullen leans to his right side and tries to gently pry his arm from her grip. The mage stirs, shifts her weight and continues to sleep. Again, with pleading eyes, he looks to his fellow Templar.
"Hey, as long as you can keep watch, and make sure nothing goes bump in the night...I don't see what the big deal is. Just let her sleep." Not seeing any problem with his conclusion, Alistair stands, stretches and heads for his proper bed roll. "If she isn't awake by next watch...wake me somehow...I doubt I sleep as hard as you do."
The Templar Knight doesn't respond, he only continues to glare at the retreating form of the other man who left him in this awkward position. Sighing lightly, Cullen looks to the sky...Maker why me? He shakes his head then looks back to Amell's sleeping form. Well...at least she's resting. He concludes. Trying not to move, he adjusts his posture, to ease his aching muscles. Thankfully, Alistair restocked the fire before he decided to abandon him. Cullen shifts his arm, hoping to allow some circulation, as he does the mage sits up and rubs her eyes. Still sleepy and dazed, she looks around the camp quickly as if trying to place where she is. Seemingly satisfied, she lifts his arm, wraps it around her shoulders, scooches closer to him and rest her head on his chest.
Lifting his head to see how his companion is doing, Alistair has to cover his mouth in an attempt to keep the laughter from leaving him. The facial expressions on the other Templar are priceless. Alistair is positive that Cullen will most possibly die from sheer embarrassment and lack of oxygen, due to the fact that he seems to be refusing to breath. Chancing another look, Alistair notices Cullen staring back at him. The Templar silently words out I swear to the Maker...if you tell anyone. The prince continues to cover his mouth as his chest vibrates with silent laughter.
Rolling his eyes, the Templar tries to stay composed and serious. Her long hair, when she moves slightly, tickles his collar-bone and throat. Carefully, with his free hand, he sweeps her hair aside. Beginning to form a stiff neck, but afraid that if he leans back he'll fall asleep, Cullen gently wraps his arms around her sleeping frame and adjusts his back so that he's sitting a little more straighter. Better, but not a hundred percent, he gently sighs. The tiny mage snakes a hand across his abdomen to his other side and hugs his body for support. Again, his eyes dart to the sky and he shakes his head, convinced that someone out there is trying to kill him. He hopes to the Maker that everyone in camp will remain asleep.
Finally, now used to the tiny form sleeping on him, Cullen no longer feels as awkward. Embarrassed, yes, but nothing else. Revenge, he has already begun to plot against the bastard prince. Another hour passes, and he's just about to throw something at Alistair to wake him, when Ty begins to move. The elf slowly sits up and leans his weight on his elbows.
"Uhm...you look dreadfully uncomfortable." The rogue remarks, in an almost pitting manner.
"You have no idea." Cullen continues to stare at the fire.
"Oh...I think I have a bit of an idea." The elf winks.
"Shut up." The Templar growls. "Alistair was going to take watch next...think you can wake him?"
The city elf looks to the sleeping human then back to big Templar. "Nah...I'll take his shift. I can't sleep anymore." Ty stands, extends his arms and stretches.
"Alright. Think you can help me out here?" Cullen looks to the elf pleadingly.
"With what?" The rogue looks over the sleeping mage. "It's no big deal. Just go to sleep. She's not hurting you...get over it." He states blankly.
True. Cullen admits to himself but tells no one. Against his inner judgement, he leans back against the dead tree, hoping that she'll eventually just move on her own, and allows the fade to take him once more.
"Why are you here little man?" It's the hissing voice once more. "Come to play have you?"
Cullen tries to figure out where he is. Swiftly, he turns in circles looking for any possible hint or sign of where he may be. Then, he smells it. Dampness, stone and sandal wood. Home.
"Are you afraid Templar?" In a panic, he reaches for his sword, but his hands find nothing at his side. Holding out his palms in front of him, he notices that his gauntlets are gone as well, looking himself over, he realizes that all of his armor has disappeared as well. Standing in nothing but his pants and boots, he readies himself for whatever might be hiding in the dark.
"I can smell it you know...fear." A fog picks up and the Templar tries to remind himself that he's in the fade. He firmly shuts his eyes and tries to will himself to wake up. When he opens his eyes, he sees a figure slowly make its way out of the fog, a Desire demon. "Hello Templar." She hisses and the air all at once becomes cool. The glowing indigo eyes of the creature studies his movements as he readies his stance. "I do not wish to fight." A wicked smile of fangs appears across her face. "I only wish to serve."
He can hear the words in his head, but they do not leave his mouth. Leave foul demon! The creature takes a few steps closer, her hooves making echoes as she does. "Oh come now...is that really what you want?" She laughs, licks her lips and then begins to rub her arms. "But I'm so cold..." The demon's eyes take on a more familiar human form. "Wouldn't you like to do something about that?"
Whispering a few words, the demon bows her head and a bright light flashes. Cullen takes a few paces back while shielding his eyes with his forearm. The light subsides, so the Knight glances carefully in the creatures direction. To his amazement, the Desire demon is gone and in her spot, Keira stands. Keira! Again, no words leave his mouth. His eyes, wide, he rushes to her side.
"I'm cold." She whispers. "Hold me...please." Reluctantly, he does. The mage leans in closer, allowing her head to rest on his chest. "Much better." Resting his chin on the crown of her head, he takes in a breath and can smell her sent. Cinnamon and wildflowers. "I'm still so cold." She shutters. His eyes search the strange room, and he spots some animal skins near a window. Quickly, he grabs a few and securely wraps her in them. The tower is always so cold, he reminds himself. She should know this by now. Content, he looks around the room to try to figure out how they got here. Something isn't right.
As he looks for clues, his eyes drift to the floor and he notices her feet, they're bare. Odd. "What's wrong?" Amell tries to follow his gaze, to see what he's looking for. "Don't worry...No one will be coming up here." Confused with what she's talking about, he tries to ask, but no question leaves his lips. She takes a few steps closer and place a gentle hand against his cheek. The Templar, confused with what is going on slowly backs away once more. His back collides with a stone wall and he's forced to stop. "Why are you so nervous? What's going on? Has Thalia been teasing you again?"
He wants to remind her that the elf is not here, but he only continues to stare at her. "Breathe." She reminds him and he takes in a deep breath. "Good." She smiles as she leans in and presses a light kiss on his lips. The Templar relaxes, shuts his eyes and pulls her closer. Pressing up against him, she allows the furs to fall to the ground. He trails small kisses down the length of her neck, and she dips her head back to allow him access. Her cold hands follow his abdomen muscles to the hem of his pant, where she begins untying his belt. "See it's so easy...all you have to do is give in..." The voice, he recognizes as the demon's, hisses from Amell's lips.
Angered, he pushes the imposter to the ground. His fists form tightly at his side as he stares at this mockery. Not only is he now understanding what is going on, but he's pissed off with himself. He knew, deep down inside, he knew this was a trick, but he went a long with it. Why?
"Because it's there, little man." The creature points to the spot in her body where a heart is supposed to be. "Maybe you didn't know it before..." She laughs. "But trust me...Templar...I've awoken something haven't I...and you know it!" Cackling, a puff of smoke appears and her form disappears, leaving him alone in the dark once more. "My work here is done!" The voice echoes in the distance.
Cullen awakes, terrified and sweating. Shaking, he carefully removes himself from Amell's grip and heads toward the darkened forest. He walks past the fire and Sten who is now on watch. "J-just looking for some water..."
"That way." Sten points in the direction the Templar was heading to begin with. Nodding his thanks, Cullen continues on his way.
Hearing the running water, the Templar rushes towards the sound. He drops to his knees as soon as he reaches the bank. The water is icy around the shallower edges, but he doesn't care. Plunging both his hands into the river, he brings water back up and rinses his face. "Maker..." His muscles continue to shake. "What in Thedas is wrong with me..."
To his right a branch snaps, quickly he pulls out a dagger, stands and turns all at once and captures his tracker by the neck. "What are you doing?!" He commands.
"Cullen...it's me..." The tiny mage grasps at his forearm.
His eyes growing large with clarity, he quickly let's go. "Amell...Andraste...I-I'm sorry!" Clearly not himself, he pulls the mage to him and hugs her tightly. "I didn't know you were there. Forgive me."
"It's...alright...I should've told you I was there..." She tries to reassure the man. Then suddenly, his body begins to shiver. "Are you alright?"
"Just...I...uhmm..." His body continues to shake and he drops to his knees, still holding onto Keira's frame for support. "Keira...I-I...don't feel like myself...and a bit ill." The Templar leans his head against her abdomen and he can feel her check his forehead.
"No fever...can you walk?" He doesn't answer, only squeezes his hold around her waist tighter. "I'll take that as a no. Look, I'm going to go get someone to help me bring you back, alright?" Again, he doesn't answer. As the mage tries to move away, his arms flex and she's unable to move. "Cullen, please, you're not well." Sensing something in the trees, Keira rolls her eyes. "Whoever is there, I could really use your help right about now."
"Ah, beautiful and attentive...I like that in a woman." Zevran steps out of the bushes. "Is he bothering you my lady?"
"No. He's sick." Her eyes look down to the ill Templar. "We need to get him back to camp."
Just as Zevran takes one of Cullen's arms, the Templar comes to a full stand and takes a few steps towards the river. Dropping to his hands and knees, he empties the contents of his stomach. Keira rushes to his side and as she's helping him to his feet, she notices something odd. His vomit has a blue tint to it.
"Lyrium." She whispers and looks to the assassin. "We need to get him back now."
"No, I'm fine. I j-just need a minute." He waves them off as they share a concerned look. Cullen takes a seat on a large rock and wraps his arms around himself. Shivering and his teeth chattering, he stares at the forest on the opposite side of the waters.
Turning his back, so that the Templar can't hear him, Zevran whispers into the Warden's ear. "I'll go fetch the other Templar for some help. I do not believe that your very sensual womanly hands will be capable of lifting this man in his condition."
Nodding in agreement, Keira takes a seat beside Cullen. She notices that he can't seem to get warm, he's constantly shivering and rubbing his hands together. The only thing she can think of is to wrap her arms around him. He leans into her and allows his breathing to calm down. Ducking his head under her chin, he tries to control his constant shivering. Even when loud footsteps are heard, he doesn't move, only continues to keep his eyes firmly shut, concentrating on not vomiting.
"Keira...is he alright?" Cullen can hear the other Templar's feet shift in the snow-covered ground.
"It's the Lyrium. I think it's affecting him again." Her finger drags calming traces through the hair on his scalp and he concentrates on listening to the beating of her heart.
"So what do we do?" Alistair waits for her answer, and again his feet force the snow beneath him to crunch.
"I could put together a mixture that we Crows use to counteract the effects of most poisons." The elf suggests. Cullen can feel the muscles beneath the mages clothing shift, uncertain.
Sighing, Keira continues to run her fingers through the Templar's hair. "I don't know of anything else for the moment. Everything I've read so far...nothing has told me anything more than what we know."
"Will this...Kill him..." Alistair asks, afraid of the answer he might receive.
"I'm not sure. That's why I keep reading...looks like I might need to research faster." The mage exhales deeply. "First things first. We need to get him back to camp, then Zevran, I need you to show me how to make that mixture...hopefully that will help him until we figure something else out. Alistair, why haven't you had any symptoms?" Keira brings her attention back to the ill Templar, basically nestled in her lap.
"I never fully became a Templar...D-Duncan, got there before that happened." He too stares at the other Templar.
"I see." Amell gently nudges Cullen's shoulder. "Come on, we're going to get you back so that you can lie down. Alright?"
A bit light-headed, he tries to sit up. Alistair grabs the larger man by the arm and slowly helps him to stand. Cullen can feel his eyes roll and he begins to fall backwards.
"Woah! Easy big guy." Alistair supports his ill comrade and drapes one of Cullen's arms over his shoulders. "Zev, can you get his other side? He's heavier than he looks."
"Certainly." The elf wraps an arm around the Knight's waist and holds on to the man's forearm. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain yourself from emptying your stomach onto my leather boots."
The two men slowly help the Templar Knight back to his bedroll. Zevran makes his way for his back pack and begins mixing a few ingredients while instructing Keira on the correct amounts of each herb.
"Now if you want, we can mix this with some tea, so that we can be positive that he takes it." Zev suggests. "But keep in mind, this will knock him out for a bit."
"Alright." The mage agrees.
After mixing the freshly ground herbs with some tea, Keira kneels beside Cullen, places a hand behind his skull and helps him lift his head. "Drink this...it'll make you sleep, but you might feel better when you wake up."
"No..." Cullen tries to avoid the warm liquid being offered to him.
"Please...you need some rest...and this is the only thing we can do for you at the moment."
The Templar can feel the warmth of her palm just above his neck and in his hair-line. He can't go back to sleep, not after...
"Don't want to s-sleep..." Cullen pushes the hand holding the mug at his lips away. "Dead things...creatures..."
"He was having nightmares...or hallucinations?" Alistair wonders and kneels down beside the mage trying to help her.
"I'm not sure...maybe both. Can you hold his head up? I'll try to convince him to drink." The mage switches spots with the prince.
Being as careful as possible, Alistair supports the other man's head, while trying to keep him still. "Come on friend, you need to drink." The Knight, tries to sit. "No, no, no, no, no. Stay right here...you can barely keep your eyes open." Alistair forces the man to lie back down.
"I hurt Amell..." He's sure she's still laying on the floor somewhere in the tower.
"No you didn't...I'm fine." Keira again tries to assure the man, that her throat is unharmed.
Confused, Cullen tries to focus his vision. His eyes find her face, he reaches up and touches her hair. She's real. What's going on. Confused, he allows her to press the cup to his lips and he drinks all that's offered.
Spent of energy, Alistair rubs his forehead with his thumb, trying to remember anything from his time in the Chantry. Anything that could help. Under different circumstances, that could have been him laying there. Staring into the flames, the first rays of light begin to appear through the branches. Too deep in thought to notice the mage sit down beside him.
"Are you alright?" Keira looks to him concerned.
"Hmm?" Alistair shakes of his reveries and turns his attention to her. "Fine, why do you ask?"
"You just looked...well never mind." The fire crackles and Keira can't help but study the little sparks as they go flying up.
"And what about you?" The prince studies her facial reactions, which are neutral.
"Fine. I just wish I could figure out what's wrong with him." Her shoulders slump forward.
"We'll figure something out. I'm sure. Maybe not today, or tomorrow...but you know...Sorry I'm trying to be uplifting here." He scoffs.
"Yeah...and in the meantime, we still need to make our way up to that town, find Brother Genitivy and get back to Redcliffe. Not to mention raise an army, fight the darkspawn and avoid being murdered by Loghain's followers."
"Hey woah." Alistair rests a hand on her shoulder. "Breathe. Giving yourself a mental break down isn't going to help matters." He offers her a bright smile.
"You're right...but it's hard...to relax. How do you do it." The mage chuckles and rubs her hands over her face. "You know, not let it all get to you."
"I does bother me...but..." He stops mid sentence and his eyes focus on the tree line.
"Alistair?" Keira turns her head and tries to see what he's looking at. "What is it?" Then she feels it, that new familiar tug at her senses. The hiss in her ears that she knows only other Wardens can hear.
"Do you feel it?" The prince slowly comes to a stand while reaching for his blade at his side.
"Do you think they're near by?" Amell spots her staff, it's at the other side of the camp, as she's about to make a dash for it, a fireball is sent crashing towards them.
Alistair does the only thing he can think of, he tackles the mage to the ground and shields their heads with his arms. He glimpses over the rest of the camp to make sure no one else is hurt. The force of the blast, sent Ty and Sandal into the small bushes, Zevran had apparently also caught sight of the assault and had managed to dodge the attack. Sten is standing defensively next to Bodahn and the cart.
"I hear them, they are just beyond those trees." The large Qunari continues to hold his position, while watching the shadows.
"How many? Can you tell?" Alistair asks while helping Amell to her feet. "I can sense half a dozen, but I could be wrong."
Quickly Ty readies his bow, swearing as he reaches the middle ground next to the prince. "I think you're count isn't that far off. They probably would have hit us harder if there were more in numbers."
"Good point." Reading his shield, he studies the area around him and notices Cullen, still out cold. "Zevran what the hell did you give him? We could really use his help about now."
The Antivan elf quickly makes his way next to the Templar Knight. "He'll be fine, but I will watch over him." The rogue pulls out his twin daggers and waits. "They're coming."
Keira helps Sandal and his father crawl into the back of their cart. "Stay here." She orders, to which they do not argue. Taking a spot next to Sten, she lifts her arms and silently commands the earth to become her protective gear. The giant beside her shakes his head.
Then finally, the first signs of darkspawn are seen, a shriek appears, it spots them, tilts its head back and does as its name suggests. It shrieks, with a sound that has the group covering their ears. The creature them lurches for them as two blighted wolves appear and begin to do the same. An Emissary is seen, but keeps its distance. It signals the two remaining Hurlocks to charge as well. The shriek, quickly covers the distance between it and the camp, it reaches Keira and Sten in a matter of seconds. The creature screams as it attacks the Qunari who can barely keep it from clawing his face.
Closing her eyes, the mage whispers an incantation, at once her companions blades are blazing with flames. The Qunari smirks when his foe backs up a bit, startled by the element. Sten attacks the beast, it takes several massive strikes before the thing is cut down. The wolves are just about to hurl themselves at Alistair, who's standing at the ready. Just as the animals make it off the ground, they are hit with an assault of arrows. A quick whimper escapes them and they fall lifeless to the ground. The prince smiles over his shoulder and nods in Ty's direction. The two then sprint towards the oncoming Hurlocks.
Keira studies the movements of the Emissary as it moves slowly closer. It turns its back to her. "What are you doing?" She asks herself, as she takes this opportunity to cast a lightning spell. A loud crack is heard as her bolt of energy is sent towards the darkspawn mage, which to her utter surprise, he deflects and sends crashing back towards her. The bolt hits her square in the chest. The rock armor does its job and protects her, but she hits the ground hard and is almost knocked unconscious.
Fighting the Hurlocks, Alistair and Ty do not see the Emissary use its magics to tear a tree from the ground and send it flying towards them. A few seconds before the massive pine strikes, Ty manages to duck out-of-the-way. Alistair however, receives a blow to the chest with its massive trunk. Taking careful aim, Ty knows it's up to him to end this battle. He secures his bow, loads an arrow, takes a breath and pulls back his string. Lining up his sights on the darkspawn mage, he notices that it's heading towards Keira who's still lying on the ground trying to catch her bearings.
"Not today..." The rogue let's go of the bow-string and the arrow hits its mark.
Amell recoils as the Emissary stops dead in its tracks with an arrow dug deep into its skull. The creatures eyes roll to the back of its head and it falls face first into the snow-covered ground. Sten and Zevran can be heard dueling with the last of their foes. As Keira's eyes search their camp, her sights land on Cullen, he's safe, just as the assassin said he would be. She spots the Qunari next to Zevran, whom are looting what they can from the cadavers. Ty is helping the dwarves exit their cart.
"Where the hell is Alistair?" Then she spots him, struggling to free himself from under the large tree. "Maker..." She rushes towards him and uses her magic to help move the massive pine. "Alistair...Andraste are you alright?" She helps the man to his feet and notices him favoring his left side.
"I think I have some broken ribs...other then that...just peachy." He hisses as he tries to take a step. Wincing in pain, he looks down to his side. "Alright, make that shattered...I have shattered ribs."
"Now's not the time to joke around." Keira helps him walk back to the fire, as the rest of the group prepares a separate fire to burn the decaying darkspawn.
"Now move your hands away." As carefully and as gently as she can, the mage assists him with removing his upper armor. Once they remove his tunic, the damage is already visible, his side is bruising and is quite swollen. Her eyes meet his.
"It's bad isn't it?" He sees her nod. "Alright...do whatever you need to do." He tries to take in a breath, but his muscles spasm with the pain from his side.
"I've never healed broken bones like this..." She warns.
"I'm sure you'll do fine..." At the moment he doesn't really care, anything has to be better than this.
The mage lightly places her hands around the effected area. She shuts her eyes and tries to do everything exactly the way Thalia thought her. Feeling her energy, she channels it to her hands. Once there, she tries to imagine the healing process as best as she can. A few clicks, crunches and pops are heard, but the man in her care never moves. After she's sure the bones are where they need to be, she directs her magics to send waves of cold then some of warmth. Feeling his muscles relax, she removes her hands and opens her eyes.
"Woah..." Ty sits next to Alistair and probes his side with his index finger. "Does this hurt?"
"No...but you can stop it anyways." Alistair pushes the elf aside. "Thanks!" He sees the mage's posture slump. "Are you alright?" He eyes her, trying to judge her mood.
"I'm...fine. That just took a lot out of me. I'm...not use to casting healing spells yet...specially one of that magnitude." Keira rubs her temples while leaning her elbows onto her knees.
"It was that bad huh?" Alistair continues to watch her.
"N-no...and now I'm cold." She shivers and he's reminded of the conversation they had about when her mana and energy is low.
"Ty, can you restock the fire please?" The prince asks and begins searching for extra blankets. "Hey, Sten!" He shouts. "Make sure to burn those bastards to a crisp. We're staying here another night." Alistair wraps the mage in her cloak and some furs he found. "We all need a bit more rest before we leave." His gaze lands on Cullen's sleeping form.
"Don't worry he'll be fine by the morning. I...I'm sure of it." The mage shivers. "Don't think the rest of us will sleep tonight. I guess it's best we rest one more day."
It's early when he wakes up, real early. The sun is just beginning to rise from its slumber as well. Using his elbows for support, Cullen slowly pushes himself up from his bedding. He rubs his eyes, slowly stands and notices some recent changes in the camp surroundings. Seeing Amell sitting by the fire, he takes a seat next to her.
"What in Andraste's name happened here?" He listens to her words very attentively as she retells the events of the evening. As she informs him of the attack, he tries to slowly reintroduce his stomach to food and water.
Seeing his empty plate, the mage smiles. "Staying down so far?"
"S-sorry?" Then he sees what she's talking about. "The food. Y-yes...for the time being."
"I stayed up...I couldn't sleep after the attack. I've been reading more about Lyrium and I still can't figure out..." She runs aggravated fingers through her hair.
The Templar shakes his head. "It's not your fault..."
Clearing her throat, the mage leans forward and begins to poke at the fire with a branch. "I've been meaning to ask you something." He finds it weird that she doesn't look at him.
"Alright." He deposits the plate onto the ground and wipes his hands together.
"Were you having hallucinations? Or were you dreaming? Nightmares...just before you started to not feel well." She pushes the branch into the coals and leaves it there.
"I-I...I'm not sure..." Cullen knows she probably needs to know everything to try to figure out what's going with him, he just doesn't feel that comfortable telling her the details. "I...I think I was in the Fade. You were sleeping..."
"Oh and I'm so sorry about that..." Amell tries to apologize, but Cullen shakes his head dismissing it.
"I didn't want to...disturb you...so I fell asleep." The Templar grows quite, rolls his shoulders then tries to continue. "I knew it wasn't a regular dream...if felt different...the first time I saw Greagoire dead...the second..."
"Go on." Keira tugs her cloak closer around her frame.
"The second time...a demon appeared." The Knight lowers his head, ashamed.
"Oh?" Amell ponders this. "Which one?"
"I-I...can't...I don't want to talk about this..." He shakes his head and looks away from her questioning eyes.
"Alright. It's fine." Keira wonders what can have him so bothered, but decides not to press the matter. "So, you're visited by a dead Greagoire...a demon..." She lists the occurrences on her fingers. "Then, you vomit what seems to be Lyrium..." The mage sighs and mulls the facts around in her brain. "Something's going on...you've been doing much better...then to suddenly have a relapse...it just doesn't add up."
"Do you think something else is going on?"
The mage studies the bright flames of the fire. "I'm not sure...but for some strange reason...I've been having this growing feeling that Thalia is heading towards danger."
"But how?" Cullen tries think of anything dangerous that the elf mage could come across while heading to Kinloch. "T-they should be close to the Tower by now...and Kinloch is just as safe...if not safer than a fortress."
Sighing, Keira shrugs her shoulders. "I know...but something just feels...off."
"There it is." Thalia eyes her former home from the banks of the lake. "Home sweet home." She shields her eyes with her hand from the rays of the sun. "And look at that...looks like we're going to have a beautiful day."
A/N : The next chapter will be about the Tower...dun dun dun! Please remember to R&R!