Here is chapter 14, kindly edited by mycatisawesome. I'd love to know what you think, so please leave me a review; views, ideas and constructive criticism are all welcome.
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"I think that's all of them," Darcy gasped, breathing heavily as the last Hurlock fell.
They had left Lothering just in the nick of time before the horde had swept into the town like a black ocean tide. Since then, they had encountered several pockets of Darkspawn and were forced to hack and slash their way through them; making the slow and treacherous journey to Redcliffe.
"Maker, that is a lot of blood," Alistair said weakly, staring at a gash on his right thigh.
The Genlock's spiked mace had sliced through his cuisses as if it was made of cheesecloth instead of steel. Morrigan was wordlessly handing out healing draughts and feeling rather drained herself. They would need to make camp soon if they hoped to properly tend to their injuries before collapsing from exhaustion.
It was a miserable group that finally set up camp in a small clearing some distance off the main road. The rain had started up again and they were all cold, wet, and hungry. Unfortunately, not one of them possessed the remaining energy to make a fire, and instead, huddled together under their makeshift cover eating black bread and hard cheese in the rapidly fading light.
Darcy watched Morrigan as she busied herself creating her own camp at the opposite end of their chosen campground from the rest of them. Once her site was set, and their appetites quelled, if only momentarily, the mage had seen to everyone's wounds and injuries: applying healing poultices, and binding those that would take longer to heal.
Morrigan had not really said much since they left the Wilds, and, other than bickering with Alistair, maintained almost constant seclusion. Darcy felt guilty for not having made an attempt to draw her out of her solitude, and determined that now was as good a time as any to rectify the situation.
Morrigan did not look up as Darcy approached, but by the set of her shoulders and the straightening of her back, she knew that the mage had sensed her coming.
"Do you have need of another poultice for your shoulder?" She queried, not pausing to look up.
"No thank you, the current one is still effective." Darcy answered rotating her injury to test it.
"Then how can I be of assistance?" Morrigan asked, upholding her politely neutral, if guarded, tone.
She placed several glass flasks and phials full of herbs and tinctures in one corner of her enclave, and removed her potion making paraphernalia. Finally facing Darcy, she began arranging her wares carefully near the fire in order to make some fresh healing draughts.
"I came to thank you for your help today, actually."
"Oh?" Morrigan was momentarily taken aback; she was not expecting thanks.
"If it hadn't been for you, we would be a lot worse for wear. Besides your aid in battle, your healing poultice and draught knowledge is impressive and makes a difference where it really counts."
"'Tis of no consequence," Morrigan shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with the unforeseen praise. She had only done what is expected of her.
Noting the mage's discomfort, Darcy decided not to push her any further.
"Regardless, I just wanted you to know that I am glad you are here with us."
Morrigan silently nodded, unsure of what to say in response to such words of gratitude. Perhaps she could offer the Warden a smile in return? She looked up to do just so, but found herself alone once more.
Alistair sat staring into the orange flames of the small campfire. The rain had finally ceased and they managed to get a small fire going before the first watch had begun. Everyone was fast asleep; Darcy had awakened him in the early hours before dawn to take his shift. The night was grey with mist, and through the clouds he could see that dawn was not far away.
Teebone lay as close to the fire as was safe with his head heavy on his paws. Every so often he would twitch in his sleep and give a low growl, probably chasing a rabbit in his dreams.
Alistair wondered if Darcy had had any nightmares yet. Another wonderful perk for being a Grey Warden: vivid dreams of vicious Darkspawn attacks and, due to the Blight, the Archdemon would be featured in every single one of them.
Perhaps he should take Darcy aside at some point and speak to her about the drawbacks of being a Warden. He didn't think that Duncan ever got a chance to talk to her about everything and he hated the image of her going through the process alone.
Feeling a bit hungry, he fished a large wedge of cheese from his travel pack and took a generous bite. Teebone, who instinctively knew whenever food was being consumed, sat up straight and watched Alistair's every move expectantly.
Alistair turned the previous night's events over and over in his mind. He still didn't understand why Darcy had left the Qunari in the cage after she had gone to so much effort to free him. If it had been up to him, he would simply have conscripted the Qunari and be done with it, but Darcy was adamant that Sten should make the choice for himself. She had tried to explain to him the unique ways of the Qunari and had gone into detail about Qunari duty, honour, and pride. He had only listened with half an ear, because the remainder of his focus was far too busy watching her grey eyes, sparkling with a keen intelligence.
He was in trouble. He had never known love before, but he was pretty sure that he could very easily fall in love with Darcy. She was the epitome of what he had ever desired to be: confident and calm. She radiated an inner strength that seemed to draw people to her without even trying. Fearless, she always seemed completely unfettered, or if she was, she was very good at concealing it. There was an air of mystery about her that completely enthralled and engulfed his every thought. To think that he had been afraid for her back at Ostagar was laughable now; she was braver than half the men there, put together. Of course, that was a moot point since those men were all dead now.
He sighed, stuffing another lump of cheese into his mouth and Teebone licked his lips in anticipation.
"Your mistress is pretty amazing, isn't she?"
Alistair felt ridiculous talking to a dog, but as Darcy constantly spoke to him, perhaps Teebone would give him some insight into the enigma that was Darcy Cousland. The mabari stared fixedly at the cheese in Alistair's hand before sparing a glance at Alistair. He wasn't giving up his mistress's secrets for free.
Alistair chuckled, "Fine, fine, I'll give you some
cheese in return for some information on your mistress. Now, I've heard that cheese isn't good for dogs, so you might as well make it worth your while."
Teebone gave a short sharp bark in reply and waved his stubby tail eagerly.
"Tell me, why did Darcy name you Teebone? Did you steal a juicy steak from the larder or something?"
Teebone's ears perked up and he grinned, panting happily at the memory of that juicy steak.
"You did, didn't you? You're as cunning as your mistress."
Teebone gave a happy bark.
Alistair tossed a small chunk of cheese his way. It didn't even touch the ground before the great hound's massive jaws snapped it right out of the air.
"Where did your mistress learn her wily ways?"
Teebone whined and lay down on his belly with his paws over his muzzle.
"Ah, you're sworn to secrecy then? I should have known. Not even a tiny hint?"
Teebone growled impatiently.
"Fine, be that way."
Alistair tossed another chunk of cheese at Teebone and it disappeared just as quickly as the first bit did.
"Do you think she likes me?"
Teebone canted his head to the left and raised one eyebrow.
"You don't think I'm good enough for her?"
The hound gave an indignant sneeze.
"Oh, that's nice. Thanks a lot. Not even after I gave you some of my cheese? I don't share cheese with just anyone you know."
Teebone snorted and shook his head.
"Well, at least we now know where we stand with each other."
Teebone yipped in agreement.
A sudden rustle in the undergrowth alerted both the man and dog at the same time. Teebone's hackles raised and he gave a low warning growl. Whatever it was, it wasn't Darkspawn. Alistair did not have that, now familiar, twisting feeling in his stomach that told him they were near. It could be raiders or bandits; they were encountering more and more of these lawless men on the road as the Blight grew. He briefly contemplated waking up Darcy, but in the end it wasn't necessary, for she was already walking towards him with a purposeful stride.
"You heard it too?"
"Yes, where did it come from?" Darcy responded without preamble.
"Over there," Alistair turned to point towards the undergrowth, "It's not Darkspawn, but -"
He turned to face Darcy again, but she was no longer there. Squinting his eyes, he tried to look into the dark shadows in vain hope that he would be able to see her, but it was impossible. Like stars before the morning sun, she had vanished from sight.
Grumbling under his breath, he strode towards the thicket where the sound had originated. He may not be stealthy, but he was a capable fighter; he was a trained Templar after all. Sword and shield raised and ready, he advanced cautiously on the bushes.
"You can relax, it's gone." Darcy's voice sounded suddenly behind him.
Alistair yelped and spun around to face her, fighting to keep his hand from clutching at his racing heart.
"Will you stop doing that? You'll kill me long before the Darkspawn ever does," he tried to steady his breath.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she said innocently, although the slight curl at the corners of her mouth suggested otherwise.
"Sure, tell that to someone who'll believe you," he snorted, "You take far too much pleasure out of making me jump with fright."
She chuckled, "Perhaps."
Alistair couldn't help but smile too. He guessed he deserved a little payback after the previous night's botched attempt at sneaking.
"Did you see what it was then?" he asked.
"It was a wildcat. Teebone gave chase, but I don't think he's going to be successful. He'll be back once he gets bored."
"How do you know it was a wildcat?" Alistair looked at her curiously.
Darcy's smile broadened and beckoned for him to follow. Walking around the shrubbery, Darcy stopped under a tree and leaned down, balancing on her heels.
"There are it's paw prints in the mud, see." she pointed at a spot on the ground next to the tree, but Alistair couldn't really tell the difference between the print and the rest of the mud.
"Um, I don't see anything," he said, his eyes nearly crossing over with concentration.
Darcy chuckled and grabbed his left hand, sliding off his gauntlet along the way.
"Hey, what are you - " he started to protest.
"Here, you can feel the outline of the print with your fingers," She guided his hand across the ridges outlining the print.
"It has large heel pads," she guided his fingers over an almost triangular shaped area, "and four toe pads," she moved his fingers across four smaller oval shaped areas.
"You know it's a cat, because there aren't any claw marks."
Dawn finally started seeping through the leaves and Alistair saw the paw print, perfectly formed in the mud.
"How did you know what to look for?"
Alistair was completely engrossed in his impromptu tracking lesson. Even so, he was acutely aware of the fact that Darcy was still holding on to his hand. He pondered turning his hand over so his fingers could lightly graze the delicate skin of her wrists while she spoke.
"An excellent question," Darcy let go of his hand to point at the trunk of the tree and Alistair found himself wishing that he hadn't asked the question.
"Can you see here where the bark has been scratched away? That was the wild cat marking its territory with his claws." She looked at him, her expression bright and open as the golden light of oncoming dawn warmed them both.
"That is pretty amazing. How do you know all this?"
Alistair had not seen this side of her before. She seemed more relaxed and less guarded somehow. It occurred to Alistair that Darcy kept a very tight control over her emotions, even when she was livid. The only time he had seen her completely lose it was when they were out in the Kocari Wilds, collecting Darkspawn blood for the Grey Warden ritual.
"Father used to take Fergus and me deer stalking in the summer," the obvious joy of the memory was tinged by a note of sadness.
"Harris, the grounds keeper, used to come along too. He was originally from Starkhaven in the Free Marches. He taught me how to properly read the signs left by creatures in the wild."
Alistair felt his heart clench with sorrow. It was so easy to forget that Darcy had lost everything she loved mere weeks ago. She hid her grief well and never really spoke about it, focusing instead on the task at hand. It was in moments like these that he was reminded of the fact that she was just as alone in this world as he was.
"It must have been wonderful, spending time with your father and brother like that." he said softly.
Darcy nodded and smiled wistfully, "Yes, it was. I looked forward to it every summer. Fergus was always so impatient and never got the hang of stalking."
Alistair smiled, "It sounds like we would have gotten along famously."
"Yes, I think you would have. You remind me a little of him, he used to find his own jokes funny too." Darcy grinned cheekily.
"He-ey, I tell good jokes," Alistair huffed.
"I never said you didn't," Darcy laughed.
It was a beautiful sound, her laughter, and Alistair vowed then and there to make her laugh more.
"Come on," Darcy said, "I think I see the others stirring, we should get back."
Sten bent down and inspected the footprints in the muddy soil. The group of humans had rested here the previous night. He studied the heavy tread of the armoured warrior and the almost invisible gait of the tiny one. He did not care for the mad woman or the saarebas that travelled with them. Once he joined the wardens in their plight, he would demand that the frail human leader bind the saarebas in the proper manner, and give the mad woman back to the Chantry.
Rising from his perch on the ground, he turned from the campsite and headed west. They would not have gone far, so he began running after them at a comfortable pace; Qunari had remarkable stamina and could run for days on end, stopping only to rest and eat.
He had escaped Lothering by the skin of his teeth, battling wave after wave of Darkspawn tirelessly. The small Warden had incited something within he had believed lost along with his Asala. He would show the bas that he was no coward: he was Sten of the Beresaad of the Qunari peoples!
He ran for almost five hours before catching up with the group. Darkspawn were attacking them from all sides; the two Wardens fought well together, working in perfect harmony. The larger warrior would rush a group of Darkspawn wielding his shield like a battering ram and knocking the foul creatures over, while the undersized warden swooped in, striking the enemy with a flurry of swords, only to evanesce into the darkness once more. He was impressed; he had not considered that such a puny thing could be effective in battle.
Even the mad woman and the saarebas were helping, picking the Darkspawn off with well-placed arrows and ice spells. An old merchant's wagon was positioned to one side of the road where two Dwarves cowered behind it. The ox pulling the cart lowed in terror, attempting to escape its harness.
Sten reached for the great sword that the Warden had left for him. Taking a deep breath, he roared his powerful battle cry and charged into battle.
"There are too many of them, we can't keep this up for much longer," Alistair shouted at Darcy, his arms beginning to feel as if they were slowly filling with lead.
"I know, but we don't have much choice," Darcy violently caressed the surrounding air with her swords, making contact with each strike.
Her face was a mask of concentration as she twirled and twisted, slicing through the abdomen of a Genlock with one sword and piercing the chest of a Hurlock with the other. Both Wardens dove for cover as Morrigan let loose a roaring ball of fire, taking out several of the Darkspawn at once.
"I think we need a plan!" Alistair called to Darcy who had already materialized into the tick of the fight again, killing three more Darkspawn before he even managed to get back on his feet.
"Good idea," Darcy answered.
She ducked under the sweep of a Darkspawn's sword, rolling behind it and sliced through its hamstrings. Falling to the ground, its screams of pain were stopped abruptly as Darcy's sword coolly cut its throat.
"So what's the plan?" Alistair shouted, ramming his shield into a charging Darkspawn before cleaving it down with his sword.
"Keep them busy."
"What?" Alistair had been under the impression that he was already doing that. He glanced about for her, but she had already faded from sight.
He sighed and shook his head before bashing his sword against his shield, drawing as much attention to himself as possible.
"Alright, who ordered death?!" he roared manically before frantically hacking and slashing at the enemy advancing on him.
He was just beginning to wonder what Darcy could be up to when she reappeared at his side.
"Where have you been," Alistair shouted, he could barely audible over the noise of the battle.
"Carrying out the plan, now get back, quickly!"
Darcy cradled several noxious looking jars in a shoulder bag. Grabbing one, she flung it at the Darkspawn and they watched as it exploded with a loud hiss. A poisonous, green cloud billowed up around the Darkspawn and the air was suddenly saturated with a chorus of shrieks and screams as their skin started bubbling and melting off their bones.
Alistair was transfixed at the horrifying scene that was playing out and failed to notice the Genlock training its crossbow on him. Darcy could see what was happening, but she wasn't close enough to warn him. She shouted, but her voice was engulfed by the surrounding chaos. Morrigan and Leliana were still busy picking off stray Darkspawn, unaware of their companion's peril. Darcy fought desperately through the throng of Darkspawn with all of her remaining strength, even as she realized that she would be too late.
Her next pleading shout was drowned out by a sudden fearsome battle cry and she watched as Sten charged the Genlock, severing the head from its body with a sweep of his great sword. Alistair finally snapped out of his stupor at the sound of the Qunari battle cry and managed to dive out of the way just as the crossbow bolt whizzed past his shoulder.
Darcy grinned with relief and rejoined the battle with renewed fervor. The battle was much easier after that and ended soon after Sten's arrival. Sheathing her swords, Darcy picked her way through the Darkspawn corpses and came to a stop in front of Sten. He stared at her in stoic silence for a long, drawn out moment before finally speaking.
"I am not a coward," he growled.
"Prove it," Darcy challenged grinning widely.