A.N. Wow...you people like the dark and gritty, ehh? I'll have to remember that. :) This chapter is dedicated to: Arsinoe de Blassenville for their kind review...and to rhiannskye and ranma-tomoe for letting me know that they enjoy this story as well. Thanks so much! Unfortunately not every chapter can be as descriptive as the last one...I hope you find it still intriguing enough to read on though. I promise things will get better...!


~~~V~V~V~~~


Alistair wiped his sword across the body of genlock, grimacing as the slick black ichor merely smeared across the metal blade instead of being cleaned. He turned to look at Artalise, who was reappearing from the tree line, brushing dirt off of her yellow mage robes.

"I thought the plan was that the darkspawn were going to be kept at Ostagar." Alistair asked, an eyebrow arched, "When the plan was introduced, I don't remember a 'Oh hey, Alistair, also be prepared for an attack by darkspawn that we will lead directly to our campsite."

"Things… didn't go quite as planned."

"Obviously." He quipped with a crooked smile that soon disappeared as he saw the young mage staring off in the distance, her hand combing through her hair absently. His brows furrowed a little bit, "So, mmm, What happened there – at Ostagar?"

She started when she broke out of her reverie before looking over at him with a hollow look. "The Ferelden army was slaughtered. I've never seen so much death before." There was a silence between the two when she suddenly plastered a fake smile on her face and covered up the chaotic swirl of emotions she felt with a too-cheery voice "But more than that I am terribly upset to see that my braids are gone. It takes me at least an hour to braid my hair appropriately. Morrigan said she doesn't know how to braid hair. I don't suppose you do?"

"Sadly, Templar training never taught me anything as useful as braiding hair."

Artalise sighed and then walked over to settle near the smoldering embers of the fire, concentrating on weaving the strands of her hair into her preferred intricate design. Whether she was focused on her braiding or remembering the apparent horrors she had just witnessed, Alistair wasn't sure. He watched her, getting the distinct feeling that there was much more to what had happened earlier in the day than what his fellow Warden was letting on. A glint off of her neck drew his attention. He walked a little bit closer, surprised at the appearance on a gold chain around the elf's neck.

"Have you always had that necklace?"

Artalise said nothing for a few moments as her fingers continued in their braiding, "No. I found it at Ostagar."

Now his attention really was piqued, "At Ostagar?"

"Mmm"

Maker's breath. This must have been what the Revered Mother had felt like when she was asking him questions about some prank he had pulled in his younger years.

Suddenly, she let her partially finished braid fall from her hands, as they both grabbed the chain instead, lifting it up over her head, and then she held a hand out with the chain in it to him, while she remained sitting with her face away from him, "This was Duncan's actually… I-I think you should have it instead." The change in her voice was subtle, but he could detect sorrow masked over by a strong attempt to hide it with bravery.

His eyes widened with sad surprise and he quickly knelt down in front of her, knowing by the way her eyes gazed at the ground what her answer was going to be to the question he asked, "You saw Duncan?"

"I saw…his body, yes"

He had known. From the moment the witch Flemeth had told him about the slaughter, he had known that Duncan was dead. But there had still been a part of him that had rebelled against all logic and reason and desperately clung onto the hope that somehow, someway, the old Grey Warden had found a way to live. Now though, that little flame was extinguished, and it truly felt like the sky was crashing down around him.

Suddenly he was aware of the cool feel of metal around his neck, and he looked down to see the chain with a small key laying against his chest. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't even seen her hands move to place the chain on him. A trembling finger lightly touched the key. "This was….to his chest that held the treaties, I assume?"

Artalise nodded her head, " Should we find time to return to Ostagar later on, it may still be there. He kept some papers that might be of interest to us." She paused, looking downwards again in sorrow, "I also remember where his body is, should we be able to burn a proper pyre for him."

Alistair's jaws clenched, anger and frustration welling up in him at the fact that he would be unable to provide his beloved leader with a proper funeral until Maker knew when. That his body would just be left for the animals, or worse the darkspawn to nibble at. His hand balled into a fist, before unclenching when he was surprised to feel her delicate hands on his.

"There is nothing we can do. If we return to Ostagar now, it will be to certain death. He was a good man, and we shall never forget him, but let us honor him now by carrying on his task and ending this Blight." She said solemnly to him. Their gaze held for a few moments, before hers suddenly went upwards, and he heard the light crunch of boots on the ground and he suppressed a groan. Barely.

"And just how do you two plan on ending this Blight?" asked Morrigan, looking down at the two Grey Wardens with some disgust. The evidence of some human emotion did not apparently sit well with her. Emotionless Bitch, he thought to himself.

Artalise cleared her throat, "I suppose we will pursue the treaties."

"And have you read these treaties?"

Artalise blinked at Morrigan in surprise, "No… The darkspawn kind of distracted me." she retorted, as her hand reached over to one of them. She gingerly unrolled the ancient parchment and her eyes widened a little bit in surprise as she slowly read through the old, elaborate script. "This one is a treaty with the Circle…It bids the mages to help the Grey Wardens in times of the Blight."

Alistair had also taken one of the scrolls, and had a bit more difficulty understanding the ancient characters, "I believe...hmmm…. this one allows the Wardens to get help from… the dwarves…yes…."

While Alistair had read that one, Artalise had grabbed the last one, "And this one is for the elves"

"Dwarves, elves, and mages. Oh my." Morrigan smirked.

Alistair turned to look at Artalise, "Before we attempt to go after these allies, you know, trouncing around in lands we've never seen, I would suggest we seek the aid of Arl Eamon of Redcliffe. He is a good man, and he still retains his army. He may be able to give us some advice and provisions as well."

Artalise narrowed her eyes slightly, looking at Alistair with some suspicion, wondering what his angle was, but then she shrugged, "I suppose that makes sense. If you believe this man will truly help us."

Alistair nodded his head resolutely, "He was an uncle to King Cailan – once he hears of the Teyrn's treachery, he will most definitely choose to help us."

She arched an eyebrow, "Uncle to the king, hmm?" she commented quietly to herself.

"Might I make a suggestion of my own, then?" Morrigan asked, still looking down at the two Wardens, "There is a small , rather dreary village to the north called Lothering. 'Twould be a good place to get supplies, and perhaps learn about what happened at your Ostagar. Or what they say happened."

"How many days journey is it?"

"'Twould be…perhaps 3, 4 days."

"Would it be on the Imperial Highway, by chance?", Alistair asked.

"'Twould indeed."

He turned to Artalise, " If we head west then, after Lothering, we'll head right towards Redcliffe."

Artalise shrugged, "Works for me, " she paused as she glanced up at the sky, "We still have some hours of light left. My vote is to head out now."

"Same."

"Agreed."


~~~V~V~V~~~


Artalise rolled her eyes as she unslung her own staff and slung Morrigan's onto her back. Alistair hadn't had an issue picking up Morrigan's clothes, but he had drawn the line at touching her staff. No amount of convincing him that it was just a piece of ornately carved wood would sway his belief that the staff was magical and would do something dire to him. Like turn him into a toad. Morrigan had looked on at this exchange with some amusement before she, in her wolf form, and loped off into the trees, under the premise that she would be able to detect danger easier with the heightened senses of the wolf. Plus, it gave her a good excuse to not be in Alistair's presence. The first hour of their traveling had been spent with those two constantly bickering at each other.

The elf shifted the staff around a little bit in an attempt to find a more comfortable position before extending her hand in front of her, "Shall we?"

Alistair paused a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but then decided against it and started walking on the path Morrigan had told them would lead them to Lothering.

They walked quietly for a little bit, before Alistair decided to break the silence, "So…what was it like riding a giant spider?"

Artalise snorted, "If I hadn't had tens of darkspawn running towards me, there is no way I would have even touched her. In fact, I was tempted to run the other way screaming." She shuddered, "I hate spiders… I'm the sort of girl who would eagerly use a full-blown fireball to destroy an spider who makes the mistake of entering into my presence."

"Well, it's good to know you won't be screaming my name to come running and kill a spider for you."

"Nope. Just have to worry about me burning down my own tent. Or setting the entire campsite on fire."

They took a few more steps, "Had you much riding experience before?"

Artalise shook her head, "No. Circle mage, remember?" she grinned, "This is the first time I've been out of the tower since I was brought there. The only animals I saw were the Tower's mousers and the occasional dead rat. Oh, and sometimes a random bird."

"Well, you seemed like a natural."

"It's amazing how realizing that if you fall you'd be ripped to shreds by darkspawn will keep you hanging on for dear life" She shook her head, smiling, "I feel bad for Morrigan. She must have some nasty bruises where I gripped her with my legs."

Alistair and Artalise continued to talk until the sun finally started to set. It was at that time that Morrigan emerged once more from the trees, flecks of blood on her snout. Artalise started to ask what had occurred, but the shapeshifter had merely flicked her tail, and turned and walked back into the woods, stopping and turning to look back at them for as if beckoning them to follow her.

They looked at each other before Artalise shrugged and they followed her, before coming into a small clearing, pleasantly surprised to see two rabbit carcasses lying near the center.

"'Twould be appreciated if you could hand me my clothing." They heard Morrigan say from behind them. Alistair instantly froze as he realized that Morrigan was naked behind him, causing Artalise to grin as she reached for Alistai'sr pack, tugging it down his shoulders so she could have easier access to it. After digging around for a few moments, she handed Morrigan's clothing back over to the woman, who took it and put it back on while smirking in Alistair's direction.

They then set about the schedule that they would repeat for the next couple of days – during the day, Artalise and Alistair would walk together as Morrigan loped off and did Maker only knew what. That left time enough for times of mindless chatter between the two Grey Wardens, but more often than not, periods of long silence when both were lost in their own thoughts, grieving for what they had lost and unsure of how exactly to proceed next. When the sun went down, Morrigan would mysteriously appear once more, and they would go about their unsaid evening routine. Alistair would skin the carcasses, Artalise would gather sticks for a fire, and Morrigan would hunt for herbs and vegetables. The evening would then see Morrigan and Artalise discussing theories of magic and talk philosophically of historical topics that Alistair seemed to pretty much tuned out as he either sharpened his sword or cleaned his armor. Then, shifts would be decided, with the one who got the middle shift grumbling the loudest.

On the third night, Morrigan announced that the next morning they should be arriving at Lothering. The other two members of the party were much relieved- the nights and mornings of game meat and root vegetables was starting to wear on them.

Alistair arched an eyebrow after Morrigan broke to them the news, "Not to seem too…prudish or something, but are you planning on wearing that?"

Morrigan scoffed at him, "You find issue with my choice of clothing, templar?"

"Only in the fact that it practically screams apostate."

"Alistair does have a point, I think. Your choice of clothing is rather...unconventional" Artalise tried to put it delicately. It didn't work.

Morrigan slammed down her dinner bowl, and then got up and glared down at the two of them, "Oh? After leading you two through the Wilds, ambush-free, this is what it has come down to? Critiquing my choice of clothing?" Her narrowed eyes focused on both her companions, "I shall take first watch." She stated before storming off to the tree line, presumably to take on her wolf form.

Artalise and Alistair exchanged a glance. "Somebody's touchy" he quipped.

She looked over to where Morrigan had disappeared to and sighed, but said nothing.


~~~V~V~V~~~


The next day was bright and beautiful, and the change in scenery was welcomed as they started to see signs of civilization again. Alistair was regaling Artalise with tales about some of the Grey Wardens he knew when a black blur suddenly caught their attention. Alistair withdrew his sword and readied his shield, and Artalise gripped her staff with both hands. Morrigan had never approached them like this before- It could only mean something was wrong. When she was a few feet in front of them she morphed back into her human form, gasping for breath and pointing behind her, "A mabari approaches, trailed by darkspawn!"

At that moment they could hear they could hear the sound of a dog barking, and muffled grunts, and it wasn't long before a large mabari ran around the corner, barking eagerly when he saw the group, before running to Artalise's side, looking up and wagging his tail at her, before then turning around and growling in the direction of the quickly approaching darkspawn.

"Looks like you have a new friend!" Alistair quipped as he charged towards the hurlocks, followed closely by the hound. The air sizzled with power as Morrigan and Artalise cast their spells and the smell of burnt fetid flesh soon tickled their nostrils.

The darkspawn group that had followed the hound was small, and the fight was over quickly. Alistair was uninjured, except for some bruises, though the hound had some deeper cuts on him. He seemed unconcerned as he pranced over to Artalise, his tongue lolling out and his tail wagging happily. Artalise hesitantly extended a hand out to gingerly pet the top of his head, which made him let out a happy bark.

"Yeah. He's definitely imprinted on you." Alistair said with a smile as he looked down at the hound, "They say that mabari are an excellent judge of character"

"Which says what about you, then?" Morrigan quipped from behind them both.

Alistair made a concerted effort not to look behind him as he knew very much the state of her undress , "You'd be included in that too, I think"

"I do not have any dealings with domesticated wolves. Thus, there would be no chance for them to do this imprinting thing you speak of. You however have been surrounded by these mongrels your entire life and never had one imprint on you, hmm?"

"Ah….Yes, well…you see….but…." Alistair started before he gave up and busied himself with looting the corpses of the darkspawn.

Morrigan smirked, then turned her attention to Artalise, "I have thought about what you said. 'Tis true, though I am loathe to admit that Alistair has made a perceptive statement. I will stay in my wolf form until suitable clothing is made available." Her eyes narrowed a little, "I will trust your judgment in this. If I end up looking like a cow in a robe, I will have no choice but to go about in my own outfit."

Artalise grinned, and nodded her head.

"Oh. And keep that beast away from me. I do not appreciate its leers."

Artalise arched an eyebrow, for a moment thinking she was talking about Alistair, but when she saw Morrigan pointing at the mabari and the hound whining a little, she found it hard to suppress a giggle, merely nodding her head instead in acknowledgement. She soon head the sound of Morrigan loping off into the woods , and she grinned down at the panting hound.

"Well…shall we get a move on, then?"

He let out an eager bark.


~~~V~V~V~~~


A.N. - My muse was kinder to me than I thought! I thought I was going to be able to cover the trip to Lothering and Lothering itself in one chapter, but it will take 2 because I really don't like going over 3000 words for a chapter. Any opinions on this matter?

A.N. - Any other writers have as much trouble thinking about creative ways to deal with Lothering as I do? Ugh. I do not like that little village *at all*