A short chapter, this time; Chapter 15 is half-written already and is turning into a monster of a one, so hopefully that'll make up for this. Thank you again to all reviewers, Faves and Story Alerts; you keep me happy and trundling along!

-Genjutsu-Dragon

O

Jaiden dropped her blades to the floor with a clatter and wiped the back of her hand against her forehead, panting. Wynne went around the rest of the companions, exhausted but still reaching for the dregs of her magic to heal them. Alistair and Leliana were both looking around, at the blood that splattered the walls and floor of the Chantry, white as sheets. Sten slowly pulled his sword from the body of Father Eirik, the scraping, squelching noise a final note in the horrific fight they had suffered through since entering Haven.

They had got past the unwelcoming guard easily enough, but then Boy had gone haring off, coming back to seize Jaiden's hand and tug her to stand in front of one of the village houses. After a few moment's deliberation, they had broken in, and the hound's distress had become immediately apparent; at one end was a small altar, saturated in human blood. Zevran had touched his fingers to it and declared it to be relatively recent; it was congealed, but not yet black. Even his stomach had turned a little at the sight; the smell had been horrendous and flies clustered thickly in the surprising heat of the small, cramped hovel.

The moment they had stepped outside, the villagers had set on them.

It had been almost a pleasure for Zevran to watch how quickly Jaiden worked. She had immediately thrown down a smoke grenade, vanishing amongst the clouds and reappearing briefly on the back of the largest human, pulling his head back and slitting his throat within seconds, before melting into the shadows again. There had been mages, and the majority of their attackers were heavily armed and armoured, which was unexpected. What was worse was the group of completely unprotected villagers who had flung themselves without thought against the companions. Alistair had hesitated and caught a nasty blow across the head which affected his speed the rest of the way, dazed as he was.

After the first wave, it had been Leliana who had heard the singing coming from the Chantry, and as they headed up the hill more opponents came and were quickly cut down. The addition of the golem to the group was an incredible boon, but that didn't remove the fact that Zevran would happily go the rest of his days without seeing another person – or animal, even – crushed beneath those gigantic fists. It was far too reminiscent of what had nearly happened to Jaiden.

The Father had not been particularly welcoming, either. After a heated exchange between him and Jaiden, he had set the rest of his followers on them. It was a tight space for combat, and completely unsuitable for Sten, who appeared to struggle with keeping his swordwork tight and not tripping over any of the pews. Zevran and Jaiden, of course, were used to fighting in such conditions, and made quick work of most of the guards, but it was a hard fight, and they had still not been able to ascertain the whereabouts of Brother Genetivi.

"Zevran, are you all right?" Wynne was approaching him now, and he pushed aside his weariness to give her his usual glib smile.

"All the better, knowing that you and your magical bosom are here to assist me." He didn't even try dodging the slap she aimed at the back of his head.

"Shall I take that as a no?" He nodded, wincing, as she swept off muttering something under her breath. His eyes slid past her, to the bookshelves lining the walls, the statues and candles, the carved arch into the solid stone-

That's odd.

Jaiden had left her blades lying in the rapidly drying blood as she went off to explore a side-section of the Chantry, and Leliana bent to pick them up and place them on the altar. Zevran saw her murmur a surreptitious prayer, backing away before the elf returned. The bard was careful to keep her beliefs quiet, for the most part, perhaps knowing that Jaiden did not respond well to most subjects concerning religion, but that didn't stop her uttering the odd thanks for the Warden's continued survival.

Alistair was watching her, looking torn between confusion and desire. The templar could not be more obvious in his affections if he walked into the bard's tent one night stark naked, but Leliana either remained oblivious or was very skilled at demurral. That tensions seemed to be on the rise between the Wardens had not escaped the Crow, and it did not take much to guess that the cause. Jaiden didn't appear to have realised yet the amount of time the bard spent with her was due to more than their growing friendship, and from what Zevran had observed, Leliana was not too certain on her own feelings either. Alistair and Jaiden were still like siblings – close, companionable, always willing to share an abominable joke or two – but if there was one thing Zevran had observed in his times as an assassin, it was that one of the most common emotions between related parties was jealousy.

He broke off his musings, going to examine the curious archway that apparently lead into nowhere. The stone was a different colour from that which the rest of the Chantry was built, and as he ran his fingers across it the texture was different; smooth, as though touched by hundreds of hands over the years until the rough surface wore away. He pressed down.

The stone slid back and aside with an almighty grating noise, making the rest of the party jump as a hidden room was revealed. Zevran sighed happily. "It is true – I am ridiculously awesome." A few quick paces into the room lifted his spirits even further. Lying on the floor, battered but not broken, was a man who could only be Brother Genetivi.

Wynne was by his side in an instant, magic already reaching out to start knitting his wounds together. Jaiden knelt on his other side, and he looked up at her with quiet amusement.

"Well…when I prayed to the Maker for rescue, this is not quite what I expected." He winced. "Ugh…you've no idea how glad I am to see somebody who isn't from this village." He forced himself into an upright position; Zevran noted the involuntary spasm of pain that passed through the man. He was being surprisingly controlled about it. "The leg's not doing so well - and I can't feel my foot."

Wynne produced some bandages and a vial of powerful painkiller from her pack and set to work, as Jaiden began questioning the man.

"We're looking for the Urn of Sacred Ashes." She removed her own pack, digging into it until they found the book of notes they had retrieved from the house in Denerim. She handed it to Genetivi, who hugged it to his chest like a treasured child. "We were directed to look for you, and these indicated that you were exploring Haven. Have you had any luck?"

"Luck? Depends on the definition." Genetivi gritted his teeth as the last of the healing took place. "I have been successful, however – the Ashes are just up the mountain."

Zevran was not the only one who raised an eyebrow. As far as he had been able to tell, Jaiden had not really believed in the existence of Andraste – let alone the Ashes or their healing power – at all, but had gone along with it as far as she could in effort to show willing. "How do you know this?"

"My research led me here and I heard the villagers talking. The Urn is here." He swatted Wynne away, who was trying to get him to lie back down. "There is an old temple further up, built with the sole purpose of protecting Andraste's remains. The door is always locked, but through a bit of prying which eventually got me caught, I know where the key is. Father Eirik keeps it around his neck; it looks like a medallion."

"Ah – is this it?" Leliana held out her hand, revealing a necklace with an odd bronze pendant shaped like a slightly blocky Sword of Mercy. Of course, the bard was always reasonably efficient about looting, after she had done her religious duties. An amusing facet of her personality. Genetivi nodded.

"Take me to the mountainside and I can show you how to open the door with it."

"Brother, you desperately need rest." Wynne's tone, if addressed to any of their party, would brook no quarrel. But Genetivi was determined, and began hauling himself to his feet.

"I have searched all my life for this. I will not give up now." He turned his eyes back to Jaiden. "It is not that far…would you let me lean on you?"

It still surprised Zevran that most of the people they had met deferred to the elven Warden. Alistair looked far more like a leader, especially since he had gained his silverite plate in Denerim; the only reason people didn't automatically assume that Sten presided over the group was that no Ferelden would answer to a qunari, unless they were part of a mercenary group. There was more authority about Jaiden, perhaps, than sat on any of their shoulders, and so people always looked to her, although sometimes with a noticeable sneer. Of course, the deceptively sweet-looking face didn't hurt; her scar had already faded to white when they had met, but it was still there, slightly jarring, like a crack in a mirror; but it did not detract overmuch from the pale, slightly freckled skin, or those large, pale green eyes.

Jaiden nodded, bending down to lift the man, betraying the strength that was gradually building in the young Warden. Her injuries after the ogre attack had taken around a week to clear up, and cost them a fair bit of time, much to Jaiden's annoyance. Nonetheless, she had recovered well, and hoisted Genetivi with only a tiny grunt of exertion.

"Jaiden, are you sure you don't want me to do that?" Alistair, trying to help, but his fellow Warden shook her head.

"I'm fine. Let's get going." Jaiden turned, missing the put-out expression on the templar's face. Slowly, she began leading the way out of the Chantry.

Genetivi had been true in his words; it was not far up the mountain, for which Zevran was thankful. The temperature was dropping fast and he was immensely grateful for his gloves; the hilt of his dagger would have taken skin with it otherwise. Morrigan was leaning heavily on her staff, plainly in need of a rest but too proud to say anything, and Wynne was looking a little worse for the wear as well. But with the promise of the Ashes so close, Jaiden had become intent as a hound on the trail, and would likely not stop until they started dropping around her.

The doors to the temple were surprisingly austere – simply designed and wide instead of high, probably allowing three people to pass abreast. Provided one of them wasn't Sten or Shale, anyway. Once they were pushed open, however, it was apparent that the temple itself was anything but.

It was vast. The ceiling was so high overhead that Zevran could barely see it. Light poured in through windows many times larger than any he had seen in the noble houses of Antiva. Drifts of snow sparkled against the elaborately carved columns. There were friezes along the walls, fantastically detailed depictions of scenes he vaguely recognised as being from the story of creation. At the far end, there were steps leading up to another set of doors, and a large brazier sat in the centre of the hall. Leading off the sides in periodic intervals were more corridors.

Genetivi sagged on Jaiden's shoulder.

"This…oh, what I wouldn't give to see this in all its glory." With effort, he pushed himself up, limping over to examine one of the murals on the wall. "Just look at this." Zevran had not heard anyone breathe with such reverence as this man in a very long time. He smirked. The last occasion hadn't exactly been a religious experience, although the Maker's name had been invoked a number of times.

Jaiden was still wary, her eyes scanning the hall for any sign of danger. "I think we'd better take our time to explore the side corridors. Just in case." Sten grumbled but made no other sign of dissent, and with a warning to Genetivi to keep safe they ventured down the first to the left.

"Stop! You will go no further!"

Alistair was quite happy to comply with the man's demand. His entire body ached from the fight they had gone through every step of the way into the temple. Cultists, mages, dragonlings, drakes, even a bronto at one point – Maker alone knew what that was doing up here. Then there were the ash wraiths, the remains of which had coated the inside of every throat and left them all coughing violently, along with the red welts that had been left behind by every touch. Jaiden was beginning to resemble a half-crazed scarecrow, her hair matted with blood and ash, streaks of sweat cutting lines through the grime covering her face. Alistair was willing to bet that he didn't look too well off either. He was so exhausted that even blinking hurt; his lips were painfully chapped from the cold – stick-your-tongue-to-a-lamppost-temperature, he'd joked to Jaiden earlier, much to the bemusement of the others. It seemed like years ago.

He cast a glance towards Leliana. She had largely escaped the worst of the damage, along with the mages, but still looked on the point of collapsing. Several times she had been forced to drop her bow and resort to her daggers, and while he'd done his best on every occasion to go across and defend her, she had still managed to accumulate a few gashes. Unthinkingly, he lifted his hand to her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She smiled at him, but her blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle – she was paying close attention towards the man who had introduced himself as Father Kolgrim, and the exchange he was having with Jaiden.

"Know this, stranger." Kolgrim's voice was a low growl as he lowered his head to stare Jaiden directly in the eye. "The Prophet Andraste has overcome death and returned to her faithful in a form more radiant than you could imagine!"

Zevran laughed openly, drawing glares in his direction, but as usual the elf did not seem to care. "Oh, this is good. Based on what we have seen so far, I would assume that she's become a dragon now, yes?"

"She is so much more! She is even more glorious than all the Old Gods combined!"

"Hush, Zevran." Jaiden made a downward motion with her hand as Kolgrim bristled. "I would like to see this…risen Andraste."

"Only the worthy may look upon her!" Alistair's hand went to his hilt; the man seemed to be getting riled up again and he prepared himself to cast a mana drain upon the mages. Just as quickly, however, Kolgrim's wrath subsided, and he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But perhaps…there is a way to make up for your transgressions."

Alistair didn't like the sound of that.

Neither did Jaiden, from the suspicious tone of her voice. "Why do you suddenly want to co-operate with us?"

Kolgrim smiled in a manner that made Alistair's teeth clench. "Maybe because I believe in second chances. All stumble through the darkness, before being shown the light. Perhaps Andraste's greatest enemy will become her greatest champion."

"I sincerely doubt that," Morrigan murmured, but wisely kept her voice low enough for only their group to hear.

Jaiden was still meeting Kolgrim's gaze warily. "Just say what you have to say."

Alistair had been brought up with the teachings of the Chantry all his life. While a great deal of it had never really taken, there was no doubt in his mind that what Kolgrim was suggesting was the most blasphemous thing he'd ever heard. Defiling the Ashes…for people who had killed any pilgrims who had come up to pay tribute. His mind clouded with rage and he took two swift steps forward, catching Jaiden by the shoulder and pulling her around.

"Please, please don't tell me you're considering this."

Jaiden smiled beatifically up at him, so maddeningly self-assured that he felt like shaking her. She put a hand over the one on her shoulder. "Alistair. Trust me."

Something inside him rebelled at her words, but knowing he couldn't question her further in front of Kolgrim, he pulled his hand away sharply and stepped back. Jaiden turned back to the Father. "It seems we have an agreement."

"Very well. I will speak to Andraste on your behalf, and she will let you pass." He held out a vial of dark red liquid, and Alistair's stomach lurched at the sight of it. Jaiden kept that aggravating smile on her face as she accepted it and tucked it amongst her belongings.

Kolgrim turned away and Alistair bent forward to whisper in Jaiden's ear. "You're not really going to do this, are you?"

"Of course not," she muttered. "But if there's a dragon in the way I'd rather he got eaten first and left us time to get into the right part of the temple."

That was fair enough, although he still didn't like that she'd spoken to him like a parent wheedling a sulky child into co-operating. Annoyed, he followed her out of the opening onto the mountainside, wincing as the wintery light shone directly in his eyes. The surrounding mountain range sparkled in the sunshine; the sky was beautifully clear compared to the heavy grey clouds that had hovered over the village, and it occurred to him that they must have climbed over a thousand feet while battling their way through the caverns. No wonder it felt like his legs were ready to fold under him.

Trying to summon up a little of his usual drollness, he turned to smile at his companions. "You know, it's really quite pretty up-"

A deafening roar cut him off and he stepped back several paces as the dragon swept over his head.

Oh holy Maker that thing's big.

Not just a dragon, but a High Dragon. He was suddenly very glad that Jaiden had not chosen to kill Kolgrim and his followers outright. From the shaky laugh Leliana emitted once the monster had swept out of sight, he was not the only one trying really hard not to just run back into the safety of the mountain.

"They say music soothes the savage beast, but I don't think I'll be the one to test that theory."

"Well, I'm sure you could manage it." The compliment rose to his lips unbidden; she graced him with a smile, but he couldn't really fault Jaiden for snapping at him.

"Could you please cut the flirting?" Her voice was tense; the reality of the dragon appeared to have shaken her quite badly, and up here, surrounded with cultists and no knowledge of what lay ahead except a guardian who was evidently capable of preventing every one of the maniacs from breaking through, she couldn't predict how events were going to unfold.

That didn't stop his cheeks from flushing red, however.

Slowly, they followed Kolgrim along the path; he marched confidently, Jaiden crept in his shadow with the same soft-footedness Alistair had observed in Denerim. There were no crowds to obscure her here, however; if the dragon left its perch, the elf would likely be one of the first things it saw. The knowledge that it could probably swallow Jaiden whole was not something Alistair wanted to dwell on.

Almost there…

They were with yards of the ornate doors when a rattling sound drew his attention upwards. Jaiden was already back-pedalling frantically, drawing her weapons, and Alistair felt his stomach lurch as he realised what was happening. But already Kolgrim was running straight toward the dragon, even as it belched fire along the ground, and for a moment Alistair thought that the cultist would be enveloped in the flame. Kolgrim fell to his knees, speaking to the dragon, and Alistair cast about, wondering how Jaiden would deploy them for the fight, how fast he would have to run, where to strike without getting struck by a leg or buffeted by a wing.

And then, by some miracle, the monster was gone. Kolgrim was back on his feet, smiling broadly at them.

"The way is clear. Go and show yourself to be Andraste's true champion."

Jaiden gave him a curt nod, and began striding towards the doors. Alistair followed close behind, rolling his shoulders and trying to ignore the fatigue that rested heavy on his shoulders.

O

Quick apology for the lack of original dialogue in this chapter and the next, but it's pretty important for character insight.