The Tainted Knight
A Dragon Age Fanfiction
By Bionca Femme
Chapter 11:
Anger, the likes of which Selene had never felt before...boiled away in her veins. Searing her soul until it was blackened around its edges. 'Duncan, Riordan, Mother, Father, Oriana, Oren...I beat back the blight only to have the dark spawn become stronger...Maker...I hate you.' She thought bitterly at the absent Deity. She had been silent for most of the trip back to Orzammar. She stomped her way through the Dead Trenches, tore her way through Ortan Thaig, and finally she came to a halt before the entrance to the Dwarven capital. The anger still fresh and seemed to hover around the edges of her subconscious like a rage demon. She turned to find Andre and Sigrun still in tow and looking worried. They hadn't been able to catch her attention the entire way there, and the journey had been long.
She would have seen fit to have mercy on them if this was about them. Unfortunately her anger had no permanent face and no actual outlet. She was enraged at the situation itself. Three more broodmothers breeding together, breedingthose newer dark spawn. The new intelligence of the monsters spoke to the way she was captured. There would be no need of an Old God. They would simply become smarter and they would swarm the lands again. Ferelden would have no peace. Especially with Eamon attempting to undermine the Grey Wardens once again. Wardens would be sorely needed and that fool was trying to destroy them all with his selfishness! She sneered. Loghain Mac Tir was a tyrant but he was at least correct about Eamon. Andraste's bleeding arse she should have just risked Alistair's rage and let the man live on as a Grey Warden. At the very least she would have appreciated the man's strategic and political savvy, Loghain could have even slept with Morrigan.
Not only that but she would have loved to march into the Landsmeet to confront Eamon, Loghain at her side and an embittered Alistair snarling at her from the throne. That would have been truly epic and immensely satisfying.
The Commander drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She had recruits' lives to ruin with dark spawn blood, no use in scaring them with the scowl she had on her face. "Sigrun," she motioned for the woman to step up to her left side. When the dwarven woman came to stand at her side Selene looked down into her eyes. "Are you certain that this is what you want?"
"Yes," Sigrun said immediately.
"The joining could kill you, and if you try and back out at the last moment...I will have to," she would have winced at the cold ruthlessness in her voice, if she wasn't too angry to care.
"Legion of the Dead," Sigrun reminded with a slight smirk.
Selene nodded and then took Andre's hand as he came up to her right side. She looked up into his eyes and finally felt herself soften when faced with his concerned gaze. The gentle pressure of his fingers entwined with her own increased marginally in a reassuring squeeze. She sighed. "Come, lets go make more Wardens...before I lose my nerve."
The joining was very successful, only one died from the dark spawn blood. They completed the ritual in the throne room of the Royal Palace in Orzammar. King Harrowmont had been more than accommodating to them for taking outthe broodmothers and would have petitioned the assembly to award her paragon status if Selene asked. More importantly, Sigrun had survived. Selene had grown quite fond of the young woman. As had Andre.
They were currently camped at the foot of the Frostback mountains, on their way back to Soldier's Peak. Selene had just woken from a nightmare. The dream itself had been like a vision. Previously when she and Alistair had dreamed of the Archdemon it was as if the creature had sought them out in the Fade and had tried to destroy them there. This was much more like having a vision. Selene was no seer but she could not deny what she had seen.
"Kal'Hirol is lost, the Lost, is lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!" the figure of a large broodmother like woman wails in torment.
"Mother...be calm," a dark spawn holds his hands out in a placating gesture, trying to soothe the abomination.
The pale woman's face raises an inky eyebrow at the creature below her, she towers over it with her bloated caterpillar-like body. Her bare breasts grotesque and located all the way down the fat body. From her back insect like legs twitch with her rage. "Calm?" she says in a low voice. "Yes...once I was calm. Once Mother listened to the beautiful call, felt it wash over her and inside her...and she was calm. But now there is no calm. Father took that away...and now he takes away Kal'Hirol!" she bends forward, her head and arms downward and her voice sinking in despair. "My poor pets in Kal'Hirol!" she wails. She straightens, once more angry, "The Father knew I would send them against him. The Father feared!" she throws her head back and cackled.
When she stops laughing she smiles knowingly at the dark spawn before her, "Kal'Hirol is gone...but the mother still has her tricks...many, many tricks."
If it were possible for a dark spawn to pale, then one would have thought this one had. It looks up at her fearfully, "But what will the Mother do?"
"Do?! I will laugh!" she cackles wildly again. She finishes after a time and then smirks down at her minion. "And then...wait."
Selene awoke shivering uncontrollably. What had she just seen? A different kind of Brood Mother. In fact she had referred to her self as 'The Mother'. The Mother! 'The Lost' had mentioned 'The Mother' back in Kal'Hirol, and then she dreamed of the creature. It...she was angry. Selene had killed her pets and now she was out for revenge. But who was this 'Father' she was screaming about?
'The beautiful music' was easy to figure out. The Archdemon called to the Horde, made it his own, bent it to his will. It was always assumed before now that the dark spawn had no will or intelligence of their own. Only the need to breed and consume. And now...perhaps they had been wrong all this time. Perhaps there were always intelligent dark spawn? What if during years where there was no blight they simply stayed in the deep roads to replenish their numbers so that when the Archdemon called again, they would be ready? Was it not the Old Gods that were the victims? Or was it the other way around? Or was the relationship symbiotic? Perhaps the Old Gods simply used the dark spawn to awaken them so that they may express their displeasure with the world directly?
These thoughts were bringing on a terrible headache and Selene passed a hand over her face trying to ease the tension out of her facial muscles. She turned her thoughts instead to the immediate future. She needed to get to Soldier's Peak and regroup.
She also wanted to get a message about the dark spawn to Alistair. No matter what her feelings about the man or whom he was keeping close company with, he deserved to know. This was likely to cause more problems with Ferelden's security, and she had no choice now but to recruit aggressively. The aggressive nature of the breeding in Kal'Hirol spoke volumes about the dark spawn's intentions. They were breeding an army. She needed to build one. A scant two hundred Wardens, that is all that she had. Give or take a few. Nothing compared to the hundreds of thousands that had retreated to the deep roads for a brief period after the Archdemon had been slain. And whether or not her dream had been truth or simply her imagination working over time. She could not write off the possibility of their being a 'Mother' out there.
She looked up at the inside of the canvas tent she shared with Andre and shivered. Why did this never seem to end? For some reason, she foolishly believed that while she would never be rid of fighting darkspawn, there may at least be a lull in their activity. She might be able relax marginally and get down to the business of actually living out the thirty odd years she might have left to her life. Though now it seemed that nothing in her world would ever be that easy. And no matter how much she might like to, she couldn't just walk away and leave this mess to someone else. She had made commitments and she meant to honor them. She turned to look at Ser Perth. Andre...her lover. He had come to rescue her from Kal'Hirol. She admitted to being a little upset with him, but...at the same time she loved how wonderful it made her feel. Loved, cherished..needed. He was willing to throw his life away out of love for her. A lump in her throat had her choking down sudden tears as she turned on her side to burrow her face in his chest. His arms automatically closed around her smaller frame and pulled her closer. They had not made love that night, but had stripped off their gear and crawled into the bedroll naked and too tired to do much about it. But now unable to continue sleeping after the nightmare she had woken from...the warmth of his body seeped through her skin and sent a tingling sensation down her spine. She expertly shifted, rubbing against him strategically and was rewarded with a gasp and then that growl that she had come to love.
"Selene," he said warningly.
"Yes," she pleaded.
That was all the motivation he needed as he rolled her over and pinned her beneath his heavier frame. Locks of his hair fell around her and tickled her cheek as he captured her lips with his. He insinuated himself between her legs and reached downwards. He growled again when he found she was more than ready for him. He thrust forwards and proceeded to make love to her with a passion she had not realized the man was capable of. When they had reached their completion simultaneously, he pulled her upwards as he settled back on his knees, Selene straddled his lap and she was crushed to him. He kissed her over and over again and she was startled to find her cheeks wet with his tears.
She reached upwards and held his face in her hands, "Andre?" she asked softly.
"Never leave me again, my love," he choked out and held her to him again, his face against her breasts as she held him.
"I won't," she said. "I swear."
This seemed to mollify him and he calmed enough to lay her back down on their bedroll, he settled her against him and then pulled the blankets up over them both. They both fell asleep...Selene much later than her lover.
Miles away in Denerim Alistair awoke in his over-sized bed drenched in cold sweat. He glanced about wildly looking for the talking dark spawn he had just dreamed of. The brood mother...that...thing. Alistair shuddered. Somehow, he knew that Selene had a hand in whatever had happened at Kal'Hirol. Not only had he seen the dark spawn, he had felt Selene was there through the fade. He didn't believe she felt him back, but after having spent over a year with her constantly on his mind he was a bit more attuned to her than she was to him. In a lot of ways, because of that vile concoction of Avernus's, her taint was different. Both stronger and weaker than Alistair's own taint. It had given her more power than him but had lengthened her lifespan rather than shortening it.
He would have brought it up to her, if he had trusted Avernus. She would have wanted Avernus to make the same potion for the other Wardens. And while as noble an intention that might be, the elderly Apostate used human test subjects...he killed a lot of people in the name of research. Alistair would never condone Avernus continuing down that path. Wardens did whatever necessary to stop the blight...but was blood magic of that magnitude necessary? Would the Wardens be any better than Keeper Zathrian in that respect, ruining the lives of others to prolong their own? He would like to think that the Grey Wardens were better than that. Despite their willingness to do what ever necessary to fight dark spawn, he and Selene had also always striven to do what was right.
He bent his knees and leaned his elbows upon them, his head falling forward into his palms. "Maker have mercy...the dark spawn can talk now!" he got out of bed hurriedly and then pulled on a dark red robe.
Padding over to his chamber door he pulled it open to find a pair of guards looking at him curiously. "Uh...hi," he said awkwardly. "I...uh...know its late. But I wondered if you could wake up Bertram for me?"
The guards exchanged a look and one of them bowed and took off towards the east wing, where the guards were quartered. Alistair nodded his thanks and slipped back into his room.
Feeling silly for hanging about in his robe, Alistair slipped on a pair of trousers and a shirt. He left his feet bare, as he'd always done when he didn't need to be anywhere in particular. He had barely sat down to wiggle his toes in front of the fire when a knocking at the door had him getting to his feet.
"Enter!" he tried to call out confidently.
The door opened and through it came his bushy bearded guard, the man's eyes half drooping and his sword scabbard in his hand. He looked around the room as if trying to ascertain whether or not Zevran may be waiting in the shadows to ambush him. When he seemed satisfied that all was well with the King's room, he finally brought his gaze round to Alistair. "Your majesty, you realize all the other guards are going to talk? Right?" he said with an eyebrow waggle.
Alistair opened his mouth...closed it...opened it again and then finally let out a snicker. "I just knew introducing you to Zev was a bad idea."
"If nothing else, consider it pay back for all the times I've almost been caught sneaking you your midnight cheese, Sire," Bertram smiled. "I'm guessing that's not what you want, though."
Alistair shook his head. "No, I need you to make some arrangements. We're leaving for Amaranthine first thing in the morning."
"Are you sure that's wise, Sire? Its no secret how Lord Eamon views the Grey Wardens at the moment. He might try and persuade the nobles that they are holding you against your will," Bertram's eyes widened with concern.
"I know just what Eamon will think. Which is why I would like you to go to his rooms and wake him up, bring him here and then attend to the travel arrangements....please," he added as an afterthought.
Bertram shook his head and then sighed heavily, "Yes, Sire."
Alistair gave a nod and a dismissive gesture and then sat at his desk, hastily penning the letters he would send to the more influential nobles of his intentions. In no time a fully dressed and upset Eamon was shown in. "Ah, Eamon. I am going to be leaving for Amaranthine in the morning-," he began.
"Alistair, I urge you. Think about what you are doing! You're walking right into that woman's clutches," Eamon growled.
"That's enough!" Alistair bellowed. "Not one more word Eamon!" Alistair clenched a fist as if struggling not to hit the aging man. Instead he turned his back on him and took several deep breaths before finally turning to face him again. "Now, I am going to go and check on the Warden-Commander and get an assessment on how she is coping as the new Arlessa. While I am gone I want you to start interviewing for your replacement."
"You can't be serious!" Eamon near-shouted.
"Oh, but I am. It occurs to me now Eamon that I offered you the chancellorship without actually considering the impact on your family. You should spend as much time with Connor as you can before he is taken to the circle tower. The chantry granted you a year, you should make the most of it. And Isolde deserves to have her husband with her more often. The Arling of Denerim is still mine to grant. Seriously think about taking that position instead," Alistair sat down at his desk. "Now, if you would be so kind, I am tired and I have a few more things to do before my trip."
"I-," Eamon started angrily but was silenced by a warning look from Alistair. "Yes, your Majesty."
Ser Perth looked out upon the majesty of Soldier's Peak and marveled at its cold beauty. He took a breath of cool, clean air and a grin split his handsome face from ear to ear. None of the usual Ferelden smells drifted up from the courtyard below. The only thing reaching him was the smell of stew wafting its way throughout the Keep. The kitchens stayed open all day to accommodate the guard shifts. The Keep was well run, that was for certain. Selene had chosen well when she had picked Rilyn for the position of Watcher.
They had arrived earlier that day and immediately he was told, or rather ordered by his beloved to go to their rooms and bathe. She had promised to join him, but that was hours ago and the bathwater had long since chilled. Rather than have it reheated he'd gotten out and put on a clean pair of trousers and a shirt, then proceeded to sit in a chair by the fire. Picking up a book to read he had fallen asleep not long afterward. Soon he was awoken by a servant who told him that Selene had been seeing to important matters and she would find him when it was time for dinner. Andre had thanked the boy and that led him up to that moment. The moment where he could no longer be satisfied with waiting. Surely there was more to Grey Wardening than simply following Selene around. He stuffed his sock clad feet into his boots and proceeded to wander around the Keep.
It had changed in the short time that he and Selene had been away. There were tapestries now and Drapes covering the tall windows. There was more furniture and more people. They saluted or bowed to him as he went by and he returned the gestures with the same and a friendly smile. Some of them called him "Mi'lord" and he wondered if this was in deference to his relationship with Selene. After all, title or no...she was still a Cousland...that and when Amaranthine was given to the Wardens she was the acting Arlessa. He wasn't all that sure he wanted to be elevated just by association but he shrugged. He supposed he'd been called worse things in his lifetime.
Curiously he ended up taking a few wrong turns and found himself heading in the direction of Avernus's tower. He frowned. He never actually thanked Avernus...had he? 'Well,'he thought, 'I believe its only right that I remedy that.'
He opened the door and battled the wind and snow over the footbridge and finally pushed his way in through the tower door. Once inside he found two young mages sitting in chairs at the desk in the frontroom. "Hello," he smiled.
One of them turned to him and lifted an eyebrow in response. He reminded Andre disturbingly of Jowan.
"Is...uh... Avernus in by any chance?" he asked.
The Mage waved him on towards the doorway heading into Avernus's laboratory and Andre nodded thankfully. He opened the door and at first saw no sign of the aged Mage. He shut the door behind him and was immediately flung into it by an explosion. Thankfully, he was far enough away from the source that he was not scorched. The force of the impact only knocked the air from his lungs. He sat down heavily and wheezed, trying to take in air. His chest burned and he started to see stars. Finally after some moments he was able to breath again.
He stood and swayed on his feet a moment as he looked around. It was not long before he found the source of the explosion, which apparently had been Avernus himself. He was surrounded by a magic shield of some kind and had been doing something with what was no doubt highly volatile material. Otherwise he would not have needed to take such precautions. The laboratory itself was in a shambles.
Amidst the piece of flaming debris and shattered glass stood Avernus. His arms folded and the blue shimmering sphere of his shield finally winking out of existence. "Blast it all!" he shouted and threw his hands up in the air. "When I get my hands on that insufferable ingrate of an Apostate I'll see him covered in boils! No...no, boils are too good for him," he put rested one aging hand on his lower back and the other under his chin as he thought aloud. "Leprosy!" he cackled. "Yes, that ought to do quite nicely!" he chuckled darkly to himself.
Andre's eyebrows knitted together. "Master Mage? Are you alright?" he called out.
Avernus looked up and blinked. "The Tainted Knight!" Avernus's face actually lifted into a semblance of a smile as he said this. And Andre couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. "Aha! It's always good to see one of my more successful test subjects roaming around with all his parts in working order," he chuckled and then sniffed. "So, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"
"I actually had some free time and I realized that I never thanked you for saving my life," Andre said nervously. He could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
Avernus made a dismissive gesture, "Bah! It is I who should be thanking you, young Andre. Had Selene not brought you to me, I would never have seen the effects my improved joining had on the uninitiated. She had taken it as well and survived, but she was already a Warden at the time. So survival was...easier," he beamed with pride. "My life's work courses in your veins!"
Andre gave the elderly man a weak smile. "Yes," he paused and crossed the room, picking his way through the remnants of the explosion. "I had some questions, if you have time."
Avernus snorted in derision, "Time! Yes, yes...time is all I have now that that poppin' jay Xephi mislabeled my ingredients and did this!" he gestured to the destruction around him. "Go ahead, ask away young Knight. Though I caution you, I do not do subtlety nor do I do tact. I've neither the time nor the inclination to coddle you!" Avernus warned.
Andre nodded, "What is different with the joining that I was given verses the joining that the other's have received?"
"Well, I imagine that is a fair question. It is your right to know," Avernus sat down on the unburnt stairs leading up to his instruments and stoked his white stubbled face. "The difference, in theory, is that the normal joining ritual is crude, just as apt to kill you as make you a Warden. Only the strongest survive. Had you not already been weakened, you may have survived that crude ritual without my help. However, through the use of blood-magic and applications of electricity, I was able to make it less deadly...and with my version, a Warden's lifespan is not shortened. You will live as long as you would have otherwise. And there are powers, ones I imagine that you've yet to discover."
Andre opened his mouth and then shut it again, "You...you used blood-magic on me?"
Avernus took in Andre's suddenly pale face and he scowled, "Bah! Chantry idiocy puts an unnecessary stigma on blood-magic that does not need to be. Magic is and forever will be a tool. Nothing more. Magic and all its schools is only as evil as the person using it. I've been told my blood-magic corrupted me, but I assure you...I've always been this personable. Now," he stood and pointed towards the door, "if you don't mind I have to clean this mess up. If you see Xephi, send him to me...we have much to discuss," he hissed out.
"I will do that, Ser Mage," Andre gave the Grey Warden bowing salute and left the tower. Though Avernus had answered one question, more seemed to spawn from the answer and Andre found himself now not quite so eager to join Selene at dinner. What on Thedas had she been thinking? 'Blood-magic! Maker preserve us!'
A/N: Once again I've taken something from the game and word for worded it. Sorry. The bit with the Mother is of course taken from the game directly. Not the bits I added though. SO...thank you to Melismo for doing a fabulous job editing. Also to Piceron for being supportive and thank you to all of you who take the time to review. You're truly wonderful people. Hint, hint...=)
