A/N Again BIG thanks to Eve Hawke, she is working on so much stuff of her own yet she takes the time out of her busy schedule to help me in my many breakdowns ;3
I hope you enjoy this chapter, readers, it was a bit hard to get on paper or rather word, but my brain eventually figured it out :3
love ~Whatcomestomind
Morrigan awoke with a shudder, a pounding headache echoing throughout her skull. She couldn't feel the ground beneath her; in fact she couldn't feel, hear or see anything, except for a bundle of warmth held close to her chest, and the steam of her breath in the cold darkness.
The bundle squirmed in her grasp but she didn't let it go. She couldn't let him go.
Morrigan frowned into the darkness at her sudden thought. Yes, 'twas a babe she held in her arms. His small form was all too familiar, and she recognised him immediately as hers.
This wasn't right. Morrigan had never experienced pregnancy, 'twas something completely alien to her. At times when she journeyed to Lothering, she would see the mothers foolishly coddling their offspring; not allowing them too close to the edge of the lake and comforting them when they scraped their palms. Morrigan had not been brought up so, Flemeth had often pushed her into dangerous situations to enhance her magical and non-magical abilities.
Yet the babe she held in her arms was her own, though she had no memory of birthing him, or even of carrying him to term. The idea of having a child was foolish, the same as falling in love.
Tis the fade, nothing more, Morrigan thought. Nothing else could explain why I hold this boy, why I feel he is mine.
Unless Flemeth had something to do with it. It wouldn't be the first time her mother had toyed with her dreams. The silver ring had allowed Flemeth a measure of control over what Morrigan saw while she slept. But Morrigan had not only disrupted the magic in the silver band her mother had used to connect them in the fade, she'd also passed it on to the mage girl, Solona, so as to how her mother could manipulate her sleep, Morrigan couldn't fathom. Though she was certain... 'twas Flemeth.
Now she remembered. She'd been trapped by the sloth demon... this was no ordinary dream. Sloth demons used the desires, needs or regrets of their victims to trap them in dreams and feed on their unconscious forms... All Morrigan knew was she had no desire for a baby, and less than no need, and she certainly had nothing to feel guilty about. So perhaps Flemeth was involved.
Morrigan looked down at the babe in her arms, his features invisible in the darkness. She tried thinking of him, of his hair and eye color, yet nothing came to mind. Morrigan felt an ache in her heart; though she had no recollection of him, somehow not seeing him left her feeling empty.
"'Tis a nice trick, mother." Morrigan spoke aloud, her own voice startling her.
Her mother's familiar cackle sounded through the darkness, causing her headache to throb painfully.
As the laugh continued, Morrigan's surroundings changed. Smells of wet pine filled her nostrils. The darkness shifted, rays of light breaking through to reveal glimpses of trees and grass. Morrigan cast a desperate glance at the baby she carried, wanting nothing more than to know his face before her mother took him from her, as she knew Flemeth inevitably would, just like every pretty thing Morrigan owned.
As the babe faded along with the darkness, Morrigan caught but a glimpse of raven black hair, her heart felt heavy with sorrow as his weight left the nook in her arm.
"My dear Morrigan, I taught you well." Flemeth stood before her, her arms folded neatly atop her scraggly apron.
"'Tis surprising that you managed to snag me from the grasp of the demon." Morrigan spoke plainly, moving her gaze around the fade's version of her old home in the Korcari Wilds, in an attempt to look calm and unaffected.
The long grass was shaded in yellow and brown, replacing the bright green of reality. The hut was much smaller, suitable for only one person, and the trees were leafless and gnarled. Morrigan noticed that there was no cold Ferelden wind. She had grown so used to it that its absence was... disturbing.
Flemeth loosed a short bark of laughter. "Who says I am not simply a demon in disguise?" She smirked and strolled towards Morrigan. "Did you enjoy the feel of your baby in your arms?"
Morrigan pursed her lips, sealing away any words that threatened to leap past. Flemeth had told her on many occasions to trust no one but herself in the fade, and even though Morrigan was completely certain the old woman before her washer mother, she dared not risk her life by letting the wrong thing slip.
Flemeth stopped a foot away from Morrigan,"Of course you did. I can feel the disappointment radiating from you." Flemeth brought her hand gently to Morrigan's cheek, caressing the soft, pale skin with her calloused fingers.
Morrigan pulled away. "What is it you wish of me mother? 'Tis not like you to toy with pointless words." Morrigan's face was set into a determined line, she wouldfind out what game her mother was playing.
Flemeth's lips turned down at the corners as she stared at Morrigan with her ochre eyes. "You have much to learn, girl, do not think you know it all." Flemeth turned from her, lifting her piercing gaze to the pale yellow sky. The distant ruins of what the foolish chantry said was the black city were just visible over the tops of the twisted trees.
"I sent you with the Grey Wardens for a reason. You are to save their lives. The cost being the birth of a son; yourson." Flemeth turned back to Morrigan, her eyes scrutinizing.
Morrigan frowned. She knew her mother had some plan for her the moment she left the wilds; but becoming pregnant was not at all what Morrigan had had in mind. She'd guessed her mother's grimoire would give an insight to what her mother's plan was, why else would she be so determined for Morrigan to possess it?
"Have you notseen them fight? They are quite capable of staying alive, and now they have the company of an old mage healer. I am not needed as much as you think." Morrigan retorted, attempting to convince herself more than Flemeth. Though... her mother wouldn't have sent her with the Wardens if they didn't need her.
"My dear Morrigan, how well you deceive yourself," Flemeth's silky voice said,fixing her eyes on Morrigan's. "Why do you think Wardens are needed during a blight?"
Morrigan had never given it much thought. In fact she had never given the ordermuch thought, not until her mother returned to their hut with the treaties in hand to tell her about the encroaching blight. As Morrigan grew, she'd heard tales aplenty of the Grey Wardens and their heroic deeds, so the order was not wholly unknown to her. Flemeth had spoken of them in awe, her voice softening with respect as she told her daughter of the power and strength of the old, corrupted gods. It seemed very like a tale, the way Flemeth related it to her now.
"If the archdemon is slain by any mortal hand, its soul will seek out the nearest tainted body - a darkspawn body. In this way, it lives on, immortal. The Grey Wardens, however, are as tainted as the darkspawn, but within their bodies they carry their own souls. When a Grey Warden strikes the archdemon down, he draws the archdemons' soul into his own body, and destroys it."
"Destroys it?" Morrigan said. "And just how does the Grey Warden's soul manage such a trick?"
"By sacrificing itself, of course," Flemeth purred. "The souls destroy each other."
Morrigan's stomach flipped... she knew Aedan would be the one to slay the beast. He felt responsible to lead the charge against the darkspawn. Alistair was the elder Warden, yes, but he had pushed for Aedan to take command, not wanting any of the leadership himself. The selfish bastard.
"What does any of this have to do with a child of mine, mother?" Morrigan demanded, irritable at Flemeth's wordplay. The woman couldn't put two straight sentences together and it was growing wearisome.
"You wish to save his life, don't you?" Flemeth's voice was soft and compelling.
"And this is what will do it? Why on earth-"
She didn't want Aedan to die, but neither did she want a child. Before meeting the Warden she never would have put any other's need before her own. She wouldn't do it, she wouldn't allow herself to be changed by some overly attractive male. She would not fall pregnant to save his or the fool Templar's life.
Why must I conceive?
"It cannot be just any child," Flemeth snapped, seemingly looking into Morrigan's mind. Morrigan snapped her head up. Her mother had always told her she couldn't read her thoughts. Perhaps 'twas because of the fade? Flemeth ignored her surprise. "It must be conceived from a Warden," she continued. "You want to bed that Cousland, don't you? Here is your chance."
Flemeth cackled loudly, her weathered features fading away into oblivion.
Morrigan pulled her lip between her teeth, staring out into the yellowed sky as thoughts tumbled through her mind.
Flemeth hadn't even told her what the baby had to do with saving the Wardens' life. She had simply left her with more questions. The answers must be in the grimoire, she could draw no other explanation.
The thought of sleeping with Aedan was not at all repulsive, but what if he died? Then Alistair would be the only option and that wouldn't happen, not in any world. Morrigan shuddered at the thought. She would have to protect him, very carefully.
But making a child with Aedan was taking it too far. Aedan was the type of man obviously devoted to family, seeming as what happened to his sister, there was no way he'd leave Morrigan be, he'd probably insist on marriage and love. That wasn't something she'd ever want, being labeled as his wife... she belonged to no man.
"She's probably become some demon by now." Alistair's voice cut through Morrigan's thoughts and she turned to see him, Aedan and Wynne far off in the darkness. 'Twas strange how they sounded so close.
"No. Morrigan is stronger than that." Aedan's voice stated. Obviously none of them had noticed her ahead of them. Morrigan's lips turned up at the corners... eavesdropping was such a rewarding exercise.
"You put much faith in that young lady, Aedan. Is that wise?" the old mage asked, though her tone of voice made it obvious that it was not a question to be answered.
Morrigan shook her head, loose strands of her midnight hair falling to the sides of her face.
How ridiculous the mage was to attempt changing Aedan's mind.
"Maybe you should ask her." Aedan retorted, she could hear the grin in his voice as he caught sight of her, waving his greeting. He ran towards her, his shield clanging against the armour on his back, his smile wide and his blue eyes shining with relief.
He reached her, and just as Morrigan had expected he encircled her with his arms, lifting her from the position she hadn't moved from since awakening. He spun her in circles, laughing and smiling.
"It's about time you showed up, I'm growing weary of this place." Morrigan said, hiding the relief from her voice. Aedan chuckled and set her down, and Morrigan adjusted her blouse back into place.
"I see the demon tried to get into your mind already. Nice little replica of the Wilds you have here." Aedan gestured around the tree lined space.
Morrigan swallowed. She could lie and say that the demon had made a rather pathetic job at getting in her mind, or she could tell the truth - that Flemeth had told her the fate Wardens face during a blight, and how she was the one who could stop it. But that wouldn't do. Aedan would press for answers, answers Morrigan did not possess. And what if he wanted her to have the child to save his life? Morrigan would not, and how would he react to that?
"Quite." Morrigan said, diverting her eyes from Aedan's lest he see the truth in them. He could not know, not ever.
"It is good to see you are alright, Morrigan. The fade can be dangerous for a mage." Wynne and Alistair had come alongside them, the old mage offering her useless information.
Morrigan exhaled deeply, rolling her eyes, just as she had done to her mother many times in her life. "Oh? I was neveraware of that. Thank you for telling me." Morrigan's words were thick with sarcasm and the old mage eyed her coldly. Aedan shook his head, halthing anything else from Morrigan.
"Shouldn't we have woken up by now?" Alistair asked, running his hand through his short hair and glancing around. "We all have beaten the demon at its games, so why aren't we awake?"
The fool, a demon had to be killed in the fade, it wasn't enough to just come to your senses and wake up, if that were so, they wouldn't be standing here now.
"We aren't done here yet, can't you feel it?" Aedan said, moving in front of the mages and taking a defensive stance; legs scissored, shield protecting his ribs and his sword ready for attack. Alistair followed suit, his face setting into a line of grim determination.
Morrigan took them both in with her honey eyes. They were both strong and attractive, though the Templar's idiotic mind lessened that factor for himself. The making of the child wouldn't be disappointing - in fact, she would thoroughly enjoy tumbling such a man. 'Twas the only upside to the process. Well, certainly not with Alistair, that would be horrendous.
Morrigan cleared her head of those thoughts. Why am I even contemplating this? I refuse to do such a thing. Mother can't control me anymore.
Morrigan took her staff from her back, feeling what Aedan had spoken of before; something powerful was coming. She pulled mana with ease, the fade amplifying her connection to magic and making her all the stronger. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her body; she was more than ready for a fight.
The demon materialized before them, right where Flemeth had been before. "You were not happy with what I gave you?" Its voice rang deep in their minds, those revolting lips not even twitching the slightest bit.
"No. I'd rather you die." Aedan spat. The demon's laugh sent shivers down Morrigan's spine and she clenched her jaw in disgust.
"Why do you wish to fight me? It is so tiresome. Let me have one more go at making you happy here." The demon's voice lulled Morrigan, the spell she had been conjuring slipping from her grasp.
It searched her mind for anything it could use to hold her. Morrigan resisted, closing her eyes and building a mental fortitude around her thoughts, keeping them hidden from the demon's scrounging. He would not claim her.
She heard the cushioned thud of metal falling to the ground, opening her eyes to see Aedan and Alistair drop their weapons, their bodies slack as their minds raced with demonic visions.
"Ah, I see. I was giving you all the wrong thing. It is a family you want." The demon's disfigured mouth turned up at the corners in triumph, Morrigan's eyes widening in horror. He had claimed them, they were truly done for. Morrigan could not fight the demon alone.
"I want my family. If you want to keep me you will have to give me them back." Aedan specified. The fool was going to get himself killed!
"Anything you want is yours, just come to me." The demon outstretched its arms and Aedan started shuffling forward.
Morrigan surged forward and grabbed his arm, turning him to face her, "Aedan, no! 'Tis foolish to do this!" His face was blank, yet his eyes harboured so much anger within them.
"Let go of me, woman," He spat, "You are so selfish." Morrigan pulled her hand away as though she'd been burned. What was wrong with him?
Aedan stepped forward slowly, clumsily tripping over his feet now and then. "I want… my family… back," He stood directly in front of the demon, long brown hair spilling over his face as he stared at the ground, his words sluggish.
Morrigan watched, horrified. How could he be so foolish? From what she knew about Aedan, he was very strong-willed, it shouldn't have been so simple.
She looked to their other two companions quickly; they were both staring blankly at the ground, small smiles on their faces.'Twas ridiculous how easy it was for the demon to take them.
"But you can't give me what I want. No one can," Aedan said numbly, Morrigan heard the scrape of Aedan's hidden dagger being withdrawn. Morrigan almost missed seeing Aedan pierce the demon's muscled skin, right into its heart. "My family is gone."
Did he just say his family was gone?Morrigan had thought it was just his sister that was dead, not his whole family. How foolish she was, no wonder he had been so defensive of Alistair-
A high pitched scream ripped through Morrigan's mind, interrupting her thoughts. She fell to her hands and knees, eyes shut tightly jaw clenched, in attempt to block out the horrible noise.
The ground shifted beneath her; the rough grass switching between that and cold stone. Morrigan fought back against the nausea she felt, not daring to open her eyes until she felt the stable stone beneath her palms.
Morrigan let go of the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Her breathing was hitched and shaky as she glanced around. They were all back in the tower; not that they'd ever left, 'twas foolish to think so. Just as Morrigan had suspected, the sloth demon wasthe cause of the fade fantasies she'd thought had claimed Aedan and the others. It had very nearly succeeded.
Morrigan hadn't forgotten Flemeth's words, however, and she reached for the book in her pack. Feeling the soft leather in her fingers, Morrigan let out a sigh of relief. I will know what you're playing at, Mother.
"Is everyone all right? No one is dead?" Aedan inquired from his splayed out position on the floor.
"I might be…" Alistair groaned, rolling onto his back. "Who'd have thought I'd be so stupid to be tricked by a demon so easily?"
Morrigan chuckled, "You do not want me to answer that do you, Alistair?" She could practically hear the ex-Templar's frown.
"Right… Forget I asked." Alistair sighed.
Aedan interrupted them, to Morrigan's annoyance - she was just getting started. "Wynne, are you okay?" The worry was evident in his voice, and he rose and went to the old mage's unconscious form.
Morrigan stood as well, dusting off her clothing with her hands, eyes on Aedan as he checked the elder mage for injuries with careful hands. 'Twas strange how gentle he could be at times.
"I do not need you fussing over me, young man." Wynne said sat up, a kind and thankful smile on her wrinkled face, showing that her words weren't meant to be taken in a harsh way. Aedan helped her to her feet, the worry still clear in his eyes. It was such a change to the normal humour in them, or on occasion, fierceness.
"Thank you Aedan, you did well in there, friend." Alistair said, getting to his feet. Aedan gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged his shoulders.
"We need to get the Litany. No doubt we'll need it... I dread to think of what we might encounter as we climb higher." Aedan's eyes skimmed over the room, searching for something that Morrigan knew not of.
His eyes rested on the corpse of the young mage the demon had been feasting on when they first entered the room. His hand still held the parchment in it, and Aedan pulled it free, careful not to tear the thin paper.
"You did well." Aedan murmured to the corpse, barely loud enough for Morrigan to hear.
Aedan turned to Morrigan, "Look, I'm sorry for what I said to you in the fade…" His eyebrows creased together as he spoke gently to her. "I just needed to-"
Morrigan cut him off. "You needn't explain yourself to me, Aedan." It looked as if he were going to continue anyway, but instead he nodded, and gave her a half-hearted smile.
"We've probably wasted enough time anyway. Let's go find Irving." He handed Wynne the crumpled parchment, and she checked it quickly before rolling it back up.
"It is all here, Aedan. Let us be on our way." Wynne stated, and Aedan led the others from the room, Morrigan bringing up the rear.
Morrigan took one last look at the demon's corpse and her eye caught on the gnarled fingers; resting on the middle finger of its right hand was a plain rosewood ring. She stooped down to collect it, wary not to dally too far behind the others in case they should come across more enemies.
'Twas beautiful, and she added it to her pack along with the book. Such a ring would come in handy in days to come.