The first thing that raced through my mind was Alistair. As desperate as it seems, he really was the first thing that came to my mind. The strawberry-blonde hair on his head styled in that oh-so fashionable way, and his eyes that were always sparkling with enjoyment. Unless he was serious, of course. Then there was that dark, foreboding look that sent shivers up my spine.
Ugh, I'm terrible.
The second thing that came to mind was what happened in the tower. The darkspawn were overwhelming us and had already taken down Alistair and the guard. I was the last one down after swords and arrows running through my and poking holes like I was some sort of exotic cheese. I had apologized to everyone and everything I loved. Then everything had faded away. It was all black and I couldn't move. I had tried to speak, to talk, but no words could come out. I thought it was all over, but then there had been that bright light. It enveloped my vision and took the painful, darkness away. It tugged on my hands and feet, dragging me toward it. I had let the warmth seep into my skin and soak in, a wonderful contrast to the stark cold of the storm that night. It was wonderful.
The third thing that came to mind was how I was alive.
I had died, I felt it. But the light had brought me back. Was that the Maker, showing himself and telling me that I wasn't destined to die? That I had a mission? Or was it fate, showing the same ambitions of the Maker?
Either way, I was glad.
My eyes snapped open and I jerked upward, my breath coming out in uneven, jagged sounds. It hurt terribly to breathe, or even move. Bandages ran along my chest and were tucked neatly on my back - I could feel the knot. There were also bandages on my stomach, neck, arms and legs. I was in my underwear, and just nearly stark naked. While I wouldn't be embarrassed if I was in my underwear by myself, there was someone standing behind me, I could sense their presence. It wasn't a darkspawn, I knew that much. It had to be something human.
"W-Who is there?" A voice says, a raspy one at that. I take only a moment to realize that it's my voice. "What happened to my voice?!" I try to shout but it is mostly a whisper.
"I would suggest you don't move around too much. Half of the bandages on you are for show. The other ones are there for a reason. Anyway, you seem to be awake. How do you fare?" The person walks from behind the bed to the front of it, and I get a better look. The voice was familiar, and I see why now. It's that girl from when we had gone to the Wilds...Morrigan was her name.
"I'm alright, I suppose. Terribly sore. What happened?" I ask, rubbing my neck and wishing that I could do something to heal it. When and if Morrigan disappears, I might try to do something.
"You mean you don't remember?" She asks. "Not even Mother's rescue?"
"No, I-I barely remember anything. I only remember being overwhelmed by the darkspawn and then dying. But clearly I'm not dead. " I give a half laugh, but Morrigan doesn't seem amused. I clear my throat, earning a sharp pain in the center of my throat. "Er, anyway, your mother saved me?"
Morrigan nods. "But it is no surprise you do not remember. You were very nearly dead, or so she says. All cut up like a pretty little bird after a battle with a fierce hound. In case you were wondering, your wounds were very fatal. However, darkspawn magic pales to Mother's power. You both healed surprisingly fast."
My breath hitches. "B-Both? You mean, I'm not the only one?"
Morrigan scoffs. "Of cours- Ah, but your memory fails you, doesn't it? Mother managed to save you and the incredibly daft one from the tower. She turned into a giant bird, ripped the roof off the tower and plucked both of you up."
I slow my heart-rate. Alistair is alive. A ghost of a smile flashes across my face before the realization hits me for a second time. I ask Morrigan what happened with the battle against the darkspawn.
"It appeared that the man who was supposed to respond to the signal quit the field. There is nothing but carnage down there. The Darkspawn won the battle." I hold back tears. While I had no person relations with anyone, besides Duncan, I still grieved for all the lost soldiers. If what Morrigan said is true, then that means the King is dead.
"Does that mean King Cailan is dead?" I ask, and Morrigan simply shrugs.
"Tis a chance. But I doubt your king would have survived this, unless like yourselves, he was plucked from the battle." I sigh and slump back down onto the bed.
"How long has it been?" I suddenly ask, curiosity spiking.
"Oh, maybe three or four days."
"Three or Four!?" I hiss in shock. Has it already been that long since the battle? It feels only like a nightfall. I must really have been injured.
"Yes, but don't jump out of bed so fast. While Mother's magic has done much, there is still much healing left to be done in your body. It would be best that you wait a few more days. I will return in a moment, for Mother had me only come in to check on you. If you want anymore questions asked, you must wait." Morrigan says and quickly turns to leave.
"Morrigan!" I call out, even if my voice sounds only over a whisper. She freezes and turns, slowly.
"Yes?"
"Thank you." I give a small smile and she gives a look of bewilderment.
"Oh, er...you are welcome." She quickly ducks out of the room and all is silent. I lay back down and rest on the bed, my bones seeming a thousand pounds. I turn my head to look at the fire, crackling with liveliness. I raise my hand slowly, and stretch out my fingers. I focus on the fire and on my fingers, and a small fire cracks between the creases between my fingers. Then my whole hand erupts into fire. I watch it only for a moment, but then extinguish it. While it seemed meaningless, setting my hand on fire, it had some sort of purpose. I want to see if I was well enough to still do my magic, and maybe heal myself at a quicker rate. Now, I know I can.
I adjust myself on the bed and raise both of my hands, a blue and white shimmer releasing from my finger tips. I start with my neck and place both hands over my neck, letting the magic work into my blood and skin. I was never that skilled in healing, so this was only to be used part of the time.
Morrigan returns after a while with a handful of herbs and vegetables in her arms. She sets them down on a small table and begins to add them to the big pot I hadn't noticed within the fire.
"Morrigan?" I ask her name, my voice sounding much better than before. She doesn't shift or change her pattern as she slips the ingredients into the pot.
"More questions, I assume?"
"Er, yes. Where is Alistair? This hut doesn't seem very large...as if this is the only room in it." I look around again, noting how small and tightly compacted together most things are. The bed is one of the larger things.
"Not everything is what it seems. Surely a mage like yourself should know that." She says, slipping a sweet smelling root into the pot.
"You know that I'm a mage?!" I'm shocked, only because most people seem dumb to the obvious appearance of robes and a staff strapped to my back. Morrigan chuckles.
"But of course! Unlike most, my eyes are upon my face for a reason. Do others not know this?" She asks me. I start to speak, but she stops me. "By others, I mean Alistair."
I give a small laugh and can only shrug. While she can't see me, she seems to notice I made some sort of gesture. "The first time, yes. He doesn't seem so afraid of me turning him into a toad, as much as he is of you. You don't turn people into toads, do you?" Morrigan is silent once more.
"Morrigan!"
"Yes?"
"I said, you don't turn people into toads, do you?"
"Oh, I am very sorry. I could not hear you over the bubbling of the stew." Morrigan is silent again. I can't tell if she is trying to joke, or being serious. I doubt she turns people into toads, though. It just doesn't seem ethical. I smile, anyway.
"Right. Do you think I can see Alistair?" I ask, tapping my fingers on the bed. Morrigan seems to stiffen, but relaxes.
"Of course. But he is moping in the room we have given him. He doesn't speak to Mother, nor I. You can try, if you feel well enough to lift a finger for him."
Morrigan stirs the stew and turns to face me. "If you were wondering, there are some clothes in that chest there. Your original robes were nearly torn to shreds, so it was necessarily that you have better clothes. Lest you prefer to wander Ferelden naked." I nod to her and slowly get up, the wounds flaring up with pain. I wince, but don't lay back down. I have to see Alistair. He has just been on my mind for far too long, and I need to indulge before I grow mad.
I approach the chest and bend down, grabbing my lower back as I bend. I flip the lid and find some robes that are actually very nice looking. I dress in the corner. Once I am dressed, I feel the fabric and how soft it is...Orlesian silk. Mama used to have several dresses in her wardrobe made of Orlesian silk...she said it was something to remind her of home.
"This is Orlesian silk. Where did you get it from?" I ask Morrigan. She turns her head to look at me.
"Tis most likely from a...visitor. There are no doubts in my mind that Mother had something to do with the extra robes. You can very well ask her, if you feel so bold as to." Morrigan says and then turns to continue making food. I look around, trying to find a door or a staircase or something. I feel the walls, letting the wood slip past my fingers as I feel for something. A latch or a crease. Anything!
Finally, something catches on my fingers, and I see that there isn't a wall at all. Instead, there is a doorway, and a wall behind it painted the exact same color. It seems to give the illusion that there is one wall, when there isn't at all. Very clever.
I turn the corner and find that there is a steep set of stairs that must lead up to the higher part of the hut. I had always wondered about that part. The stairs go up and lead to a small room with a door on the other side of it. The small room is equipped with several discarded items and objects I'd rather not look at. By the dust and decay that wafts in and out of my nostrils, I can only assume that these things have been here for a long time, and long since been cleaned or anything. I wrinkle my nose and approach the door. Lifting my knuckles, I rapped the door lightly. "Alistair?" I call through the wood.
"Is that you Morrigan? I'm telling you, if you come in here and say something mean again, I'm going to have a fit. And it won't be pretty. I'm going to be all masculinity and muscles, but you'll feel sorry. Somehow." I giggle a bit.
"No, No. It's me - Fiona!" There is a beat before Alistair responds.
"Fiona? Oh, thank the Maker you're alive! Morrigan wouldn't tell me who else survived. I think it was just to annoy me." There is a pounding sound and then the door flies open. There stands Alistair as I know him, alive but bruised. I feel the need to run into his arms and hug him, but I don't. Instead I simply shrug my shoulders.
"She told me as soon as I awoke. Can you believe it: four days? I-I didn't think either of us would survive." I say slowly and Alistair moves out of the way so I can come into the room. It is much like the one down the stairs but without a Morrigan stirring a stew or such a large fire. I sit on the bed and lace my hands together, fear knotting in my stomach.
"I didn't either." He takes a seat beside me. "I thought it was the end. But, it seems we're alive, aren't we. But Duncan, the king...everyone..." Alistair trails off, looking down and very somber. Sadness clings to his face, making it seem paler and thinner. I sigh and clutch the robes tighter.
"I'm so sorry Alistair. But if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, then we wouldn't be here - alive." I say my words but then regret them instantly. Alistair looks at me, a bit of anger in is eyes.
"I'd rather have died with them and died courageously."
I look down and he does too. "You don't mean that, do you? You'd rather be dead, then alive? That's horrible, Alistair."
"It's not horrible. Duncan was like a father to me and the Grey Wardens like siblings. Wouldn't you want to die with your family?" He asks me, and that strikes a nerve. I think back to the cold, still bodies of my Mama and my siblings. How they were cut up, more or less like Morrigan described, 'like a pretty little bird after a battle with a fierce hound'. I blink back the tears and turn away, playing with the aged frays on the dress.
"Yes, I wanted to die with my family. I-I suppose I know what you're saying. I can understand," I bite my tongue to hide the tears. Before Alistair can say anything, I snap my head up to look at him. "But the fact that I didn't die with them gives me a sense of...of wanting to go on. I know now that if I had died with them, I wouldn't be here, right now. Or even a Grey Warden. Or with you. So me being the last Amell of my family makes me want to go on. Being one of the last Grey Wardens makes me want to go on. Don't you?" I don't know whose words these are that are coming out of my mouth. I have never really said anything this intelligent or this meaningful. The whole situation must be playing a part.
Alistair's face softens and he sighs. "You're right. I shouldn't be moping, I'm sorry. While Duncan was close to me, him being dead does make me want to go on."
My shoulders slump forward as we are left in an awkward silence. I want to speak, but I don't know what to say. I'm afraid I'll mess up, or say some more wise words and make an even bigger fool of myself. Not that being wise is foolish, but coming out of my mouth, I wouldn't be surprised. I watch Alistair's fist tighten and go lax several times.
"We must avenge their deaths." He suddenly says, making me jump. I look over to him.
"How do you propose we do that?" I ask him, every bit curious. For once, I actually don't restrain Curious Fiona as she stumbles out of the deep, dark cave and into the light. She sits comfortably and listens to Alistair.
"I'm not so sure right now...everything is still a bit wobbly in my head, after what happened at Ostagar. Almost a week later and I'm still not healthy. How about you?" He asks me. I shrug, lifting up a sleeve and exposing the neatly wrapped bandages. Some blood leaks onto the white fabric.
"Everything else is slow. But I've been healing myself, starting from my neck. I could barely talk earlier, but now I'm perfectly fine." Alistair peers at my neck, coming very close. I can feel his hot breath against my jaw, and it runs up my neck and sends shivers down my spine. He looks at the bandages around my neck before pulling back suddenly.
"Amazing. I guess I shouldn't underestimate a mage's power. You'd probably turn me into a toad. Morrigan probably would too. I think you're all against me." He smiles a bit and I smile too. I brush my hand through my hair, stretching out some knots.
"Oh, you know I wouldn't turn you into a toad. You're too pretty to be a toad."
"Pretty? I'm just pretty?"He gives a sly smirk and I feel my face instantly flame up and run from both cheeks and across my nose. I feel some of the warmth leak onto my forehead as well. But I'm on a roll.
"Yes, very pretty But your handsome as well - er, if that doesn't sound weird. Well it probably does... Ugh, you know what I mean." I playfully shove him in the arm, but it's like trying to shove a wall. Alistair laughs and I join him. Everything seems alright. But it takes only one second of thinking to remember that every Grey Warden in Ferelden is dead aside from us; that there is a Blight in Ferelden, and it's spreading; that the King of Ferelden is dead.
But for just this time, I will myself to forget it all. We've got to heal, anyway. We can't save Ferelden with a thorn in our thumbs, now can we?
