A/N: Thanks again for everyone who's reviewed and once again, I still don't anything. Enjoy!
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.
~William Shakespeare
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He could barely make out what they were shouting over the thunder of the horses' hooves, much less see where they actually running to. His only clear view was when he peeked over his shoulder to see the flashes of horse flesh through the trees and nearly a dozen torches as the knights continued to pursue them.
"So much for Orleasians' superstitions of the Dales," Varric murmured.
He thought that as soon as they made it past the tree line that they would just give up the chase. These horses weren't exactly bred to be as nimble as those little white deer the Dalish had. So they didn't as much ride through the trees as much and crash through them. However, the only reason that they had been able to keep this much ground between the knights and themselves was Fenris's and Falon's innate ability to actually pick out the small spaces in the paths between the trees that their horses could fit through. The fact that they took the time to remove all that armor probably helped out as well.
And then, he heard it pierce through all the noise and chaos around him. At first, it sounded like the wind, but it grew louder and louder as more and more joined in, until it sounded like there were hundreds of them. The moment the horses heard it, they screamed and fought for their heads.
Wolves.
Falon and Daisy were suddenly coming back towards them from the path up ahead, "It's blocked!"
Fenris reined their horse around just as another chorus cut through the twilight. The animals screamed again, they reared up and nearly toppled him off its back.
"Enough!" Fenris shouted over the chaos. "We can't outrun the knights all night and deal with wolves. We make a stand now!"
"No, Fenris wait!" the ranger called out.
But the elf had yanked the horse's head around and began crashing through the underbrush. He could hear the ranger cursing vehemently behind him, but already they were breaking through a treeline into an open field that stretched for a few hundred yards. As soon as they were free of the trees, they whipped the horses into a gallop and flew to the other side of the field.
"I thought you wanted to make a stand?" Varric shouted over the wind.
Fenris sat up so abruptly that the horse nearly sat on its hunches as it was pulled to a halt. He vaulted off the horse, pulling him along with him. Behind them, Falon and Merrill dropped from their horse. The ranger was glaring at the elf, as she pulled her bow out and set an arrow.
"Get one of your spells ready, mage," Fenris stated as he loosened his sword and faced the treeline they had just raced from.
Another howl cut through the dwindling light. This time it sounded much closer.
Falon drew back her bow and fixed her sights on the trees, "This is a mistake. We should have kept riding."
"The horses are spent. They would have lasted only a few hours more. Now focus on the task at hand."
"You do realize, elf," Varric stated as Bianca clicked into place, "that there's at least twelve of them, and those horses can cover a lot of ground very quickly."
"Then I suggest you make each shot count," he replied as he pulled out his sword.
Varric merely shrugged. At another time, he would almost be insulted by the comment, but for some reason, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus. And that right there, that was a death sentence.
The horses burst through the trees, and already he knew their estimate had been shamefully off. The bastards had sent a small company after them, perhaps fifteen, maybe twenty in all. Whatever their small group had done, they had certainly pissed off some higher ups this time.
Falon had already let loose two arrows and was on her third while he was still fixing his sights on a rider. He let the bolt fly, but it veered way off. He took aim again while Daisy sent a lightning strike into the center, but her aim was off as well and only seemed to scare the horses into an even faster gallop. Again he took aim, he tried to focus on their movements and his breath. He tried to find that spot where time seemed to slow for him, but instead, all he saw was Blind-eye, his life-blood slipping through his fingers while there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it. He fired, and the bolt sailed over the line harmlessly.
"Varric!"
He ignored the elf, and again tried to focus, "C'mon Bianca."
The old man's hands had been so cold on his own. But he had never felt as nearly as cold as when he watched as the light fade from his friend's eyes, but the worst part was that he was glad. Glad in a sense because that meant he didn't have to continue suffering.
The bolt struck one this time, but it only bounced off the knight's plate armor. Already the knights had reached the midpoint of the field and they had barely made a dent in their numbers. The glow of Merrill's magic caught his eye, and too late, he had let the bolt fly, missing its target again. The next instant, lightening had taken out three riders, and maiming another two.
'…you know what it means to lose something…'
He fired again, and again, and again, but even the mechanical rhythm wasn't enough to drown out his voice. A chorus of ringing metal sang out in the dwindling light. Too late, he realized that they were out of ground and out of time.
'…the forest has become weak…and vulnerable…'
He cursed under his breath and forced his eyes to focus.
'…swear you will find it, Varric…'
Varric closed his eyes, but he couldn't drown out the sound of the horses or even shattering of the knights' armor. Instead, all he could hear was the old man's words.
'…swear you will protect it…'
"I'm sorry, Burslin."
And then his world erupted into a torrent of howls and screams.
Someone had grabbed him and began pulling him towards the trees. He was practically pushed up the nearest one while someone was already hoisting him the rest of the way. In the frenzy, he could only make out the snarling and screaming of horses and men.
"Those…those don't look like regular wolves," he heard Daisy whisper behind him.
"That's because their Blight wolves," Falon called from a branch to his right. "Fenris here, give me your hand!"
The elf slashed one of creature's heads from its shoulders before spinning around and lunging for the ranger's outstretched hands. Somehow, the heavily armored warrior was able to scramble and pull his way into the tree. Below them, he watched as maybe thirty of the same creatures finished off what was left of the knights.
"What…?"
"Their darkspawn, Varric," Daisy stated. "It's what happens when a forest wolf consumes too much darkspawn blood and becomes infected with the Blight. I've just never seen so many before or this big."
"It's as if the entire pack had been infected," Falon spat.
He turned back to the gruesome sight below him. They almost appeared to be wolves, but like darkspawn, they were merely some twisted, warped version of what they once were. Their fur was moldy and in some places it looked as if it and parts of their skin had simply dissolved off its body. Wicked and deformed spikes protruded through their backs and along their paws, making an already ruthless predator even more dangerous. But it wasn't just their appearance or their sheer size that made him pause, it was their behavior. He could almost see the ones below them calculating a way to reach them as they slowly prowled around the bases of their trees. However, the promise of fresh meat right behind them was too much and they soon lost interest.
The only reprieve their group had as they were forced to watch these darkspawn feed off their pursuers was the fact that the wolves had been quick in dispatching the wounded. But there was nothing to drown out the sound of crunching bones and ripping flesh. The sun was almost gone, but the darkness only seemed to make the sound of it even more grueling.
"How did they…?" Varric sighed and rubbed his eyes. What was going on with him?
"What happened back there, dwarf?" the elf snapped from his perch. "You missed every shot. Even the mage was able to hit her targets at least half the time and she ended up taking down five of them."
"I…don't know," the dwarf muttered. "I just couldn't tell what was happening. I don't even know how those things appeared."
"They came from underground," the mage stated. "They must have heard the chevaliers behind us when we ran passed them and simply waited for something bigger to come." He could almost feel her eyes on him. "Varric, are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, Daisy. I'll be alright. It's just another close call is all."
In truth, he didn't know what had happened. He had been able to fight the blood mage and it twisted little pet back in Halamshiral, yet the moment they entered this forest, he had felt that something was off.
"Fenris, you need to move higher up," Falon stated. "This limb is threatening to crack."
In the dim light, he could tell they were in an awkward position with Falon's back pressed against the tree's trunk and Fenris sitting right in front, facing her. The scene took his mind off his dark thoughts and would have been comical if not for the snarling throng beneath them.
"Why should I move? You are the one who is apparently adept at climbing trees."
"Because there are some thicker branches higher up, and unlike you, I'm not wearing an extra fifty stones in armor and another twenty in weaponry." The elf glanced up at the branches but made no sign of moving. "Are you afraid of heights?"
"Hardly. It's the part where I fall twenty feet that I'm concerned about."
"You're wearing plate armor," she replied as she rapped two times on his breastplate. "If you fall, you should just bounce around for a bit is all."
"And the wolves?"
"Tuck your head in a play dead. Or do Blight wolves eat carrion? I forget. In any scenario, I think you'll be fine."
Their tree limb whined and gave a sharp crack as it fell a few inches.
"I think both of you should consider moving," Daisy stated. "I don't think that tree particularly likes you right there at the moment."
Fenris didn't seem to hear her, but the second the branch splintered again, he hauled himself up higher with the ranger quickly following suite.
And that's how the night found them. The evening dragged on until the full-moon eventually rose up into the sky. Yet the Blight wolves were still there. They should have eaten their fill by now, but Varric had a sinking thought that they still remembered that the four of them were up here and were simply waiting. On top of that, there was a slight pounding in his head that was growing ever more annoying by the hour. Varric rubbed the back of his neck and felt a large welt at the base of his hairline. As soon as he touched it, bit began to itch horribly. The dwarf merely sighed and tried to ignore it.
"The moon is up. Can't you shoot them with your bow?" Fenris asked suddenly.
"I could," Falon replied in a sleepy voice, "if all of my arrows hadn't fallen out of my quiver."
"You lost all of your arrows?"
"Well, it was either worry about my arrows falling out or reaching down and pulling you up into the tree while a pack of Blight wolves were snapping at your feet."
The elf had no reply to that. Fenris had yet to suggest Varric take a shot at the wolves, but the dwarf wasn't even going to attempt to reason out why not. Instead, the elf made another, somewhat drastic suggestion.
"Can't you simply burn them? They're close enough."
Varric wasn't quite sure he had heard the elf correctly. But no, Daisy had heard him too.
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."
Fenris scoffed at the mage and mumbled something under his breath. However, he could feel Daisy shift behind him before pulling her staff out.
"I've never actually tried this spell while sitting down. This should be interesting."
"As long as you don't set us on fire this time," Fenris replied.
At that, Falon sat up abruptly before sharply turning her head to each side. Merrill had already readied the spell, but the ranger's warning came too late.
"Merrill, don't it's the dry season!"
The fireball exploded near the center of the pack, and the moment it struck, the Blight wolves scattered in all directions. Some of them ran straight into the field only to be eaten up by the flames halfway through. The remainder fled into the trees like four-legged torches, and it was then that he saw why the ranger had spoken up.
The thick mat of dry pine needles that covered the forest floor quickly caught on fire. In seconds, the smoke was starting to cause tears to come to his eyes as the fire steady crept towards the base of their trees.
"We need to jump!" the ranger shouted as she pulled her legs under her.
"What about the Blight wolves?" the little mage shouted over the ever increasing roar of the flames.
"Run towards the south. The smoke will hide our scent."
The tree they were in shuddered and he could hear the bark begin to splinter as the heat caused the inner wood to expand. Before they could even hesitate, Falon and Fenris's tree groaned and began to topple over. Both the warrior and ranger clung to their branch but at the last minute launched themselves off it, then tumbled into the grassy field, and cleared the flames by only a few feet.
"Damn," he murmured under his breath.
He took a calculating glance at Daisy and then again at the distance. Even if their tree was fortunate enough to fall like that, the chances of the mage making it through the fall in relatively one piece wasn't very likely. Just as he thought that, the tree that they were in gave an ominous shudder while he began to feel the heat start to migrate into his boots. He only needed to take another glance at the distance to make his finally decision.
"Alright, Daisy. Brace yourself and then on three, you're going to jump."
"Jump?! Jump where?"
"One."
Varric turned her in the direction of the field and the chasm of fire that steadily growing by the second.
"Varric…"
"Two."
He gave the elf a reassuring pat on her shoulder as she knelt down and gathered her legs under her. He wasn't much of a praying man, but right now, he was hoping someone up there was listening.
"Three!"
As the tree screamed beneath them and propelled them into the flames, Merrill leapt while at the same time, Varric dropped to his back and kicked the little mage off the branch. There was a brief moment where the elf was suspended in air before she came crashing down to earth, but he was unable to see if she had made it over the flames.
As he went down with the tree, he had no idea of how he was going to get out of this one. Red hot embers scorched his skin while the smoke burned and blinded him. As the tree smashed into the ground, he had enough sense to jump out of it when it was just a few feet from the ground. It had been pure instinct, and at the time, he half expected to simply role into a burning bed of embers. Instead, he was shocked to find a seemingly bare spot of dirt that had escaped the fire.
But even here, his reprieve was short lived. Flames licked at him from all sides and he knew if he didn't escape this inferno soon, there weren't going to be any second chances. In his blurry vision, he could make out a small path through the fire, but it took him in the opposite direction of the others. Cursing, he surged forward and prayed that whoever was listening, still was.
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She hit the ground with a thud and felt as if her head had bounced against the ground. Perhaps it had. At the moment, she couldn't tell. There was too much smoke, too much noise as the roar of the fire drowned out everything, too much…everything. The only thing she could make out was an incredible burning pain in her leg, but she just couldn't summon the focus to tend to it. Suddenly, she was grabbed by her shoulders and realized she was begin dragged along the ground. The next thing she realized was that her hurt leg was being smothered rather uncomfortably.
"Come on, Merrill…breathe!"
The same force on her leg moved to her chest as it started applying pressure there. It did it again. And again. And again…
Her thoughts came rushing back almost the same instant the air reached her lungs again. She hacked and coughed as her lungs tried to remember that innate pattern of breathing while still trying to remove the layer of ash and tar from them.
"Damn it, Merrill. Don't scare me like that again."
Falon was kneeling over her while Fenris stood nearby with his sword drawn. Both of them were caked in so much of the black ash that Fenris's silver hair was completely concealed by it, and Falon's pale, ivory skin was almost the same shade.
Through her coughing fit, she tried to give the ranger a reassuring smile, but failed miserably. After a moment, she was able to rasp, "Varric?"
Surprisingly, it was Fenris who answered her, "He survived the fall, but the flames forced him further in." Fenris glanced up at the black sky and then back at the burning trees. "The wind is pushing the fire into the forest. He'll never get past this wall."
"Merrill," Falon asked, "can you contain the fire?"
"I don't know. I can try."
But the instant she began to prepare her spell, another tree groaned and began to topple onto their path. Debris and embers flew high into the air as the flames roared anew. The heat was so intense, they were forced back even further.
"Varric!" the mage shouted over the flames, but she couldn't see anything.
However, it was Fenris who spotted him first, "There, at the base of the tree." Again the warrior cursed as another gust of wind from the south fanned the flames, "It's no use. It's just growing bigger."
Despite the fact that Varric was now cut off from the group, Merrill let out a shaky breath of relief when she saw a sooty form begin to move on the ground. But all too soon, her relief was dashed away when she saw another form seemingly emerge from the ash of the fallen tree.
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It didn't matter how many times he tried to outmaneuver the fire, he was hit with one wall after another despite how close he was to salvation. He could still make out his three companions and their attempts to try and get to him through the blazes, but they might as well as had a snowball's chance in…well, here. Out of habit, his hand went over his shoulder for that oh so familiar feeling of wood and metal. Surprisingly the fall hadn't knocked the weapon from his back.
He didn't have any time to think about it as he ducked underneath a smoldering tree limb and a deep growling baritone alerted him that he wasn't alone. As he looked up, he saw the largest Blight wolf he had ever seen. The thing easily stood as tall as a pony while half its side was a mess of burns and decaying flesh. The other side had been sliced and torn from the fallen tree. The thing disregarded its wounds as if they were nothing more than flea bites as it turned its eerily glowing, green eyes on him. Its cracked, jagged fangs were salivating as it snarled at him and slowly prowled closer.
"By the…Varric!" Falon's voice shouted over the din of the fire. "Varric run! It's their alpha!"
Some instinctual part of himself didn't need for the ranger to explain further. Varric made a dash to the creature's right, but the darkspawn lunged at him and took a swipe. It had enough force behind it that it could have easily taken his head. But in the last second, his crossbow was back in his hands. Bianca took the brunt of it and whined graciously as she staved off the attack. He silently thanked his precious weapon as he threw the creature off and placed two bolts into its chest. But like the Void stalker from before, he might as well as tossed a pine cone at it for all it did.
"Varric, get out of there!"
He didn't need the ranger to tell him twice. He could feel the leather on his back begin to cook. At the last second, as the wolf gathered itself to make another lung, for a brief moment he found his center and placed a bolt directly into the beasts left eye. It was all the time he needed, but as he tried to break away to get back to the others, the whine of a tree overhead quickly forced him back.
"This isn't good…"
He could no longer see them, he wasn't even sure he could hear them at this point. But with the fire steadily growing worse and his vision going with it, he retreated back into a strand of trees that didn't seem to be burning as quickly as the others. But all too soon he heard the snarling and growling behind him. Not bothering to look back, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
There was a loud growl followed shortly by a massive force tackling him from behind. Varric managed to roll with it and was able to dislodge himself from the darkspawn's jaws. And as he came around, Bianca's bayonet found the wolf's lower mandible. Snarling at the loss of half its jaw and most of its teeth, the darkspawn lunged forward just as he desperately backed away to try and get some distance for another shot. Varric tripped over a half-burnt root and rolled away only for the creature to slash a huge gash where he had been only moments ago. He didn't notice that they were on a hill, or how steep the embankment was here. He stumbled and slid several feet before catching himself on a sapling and righting himself just in time for the creature to swipe at him again. He threw Bianca up again only to have her knocked from his hands. With no time to think of retrieving her, Varric made a haphazard dodge away from the darkspawn's claws, but as he landed, that's when he felt the earth begin to shift under him.
He knew he was in trouble the moment the Blight wolf growled only a few feet away from him but at that time suddenly decide to reatreat. He didn't get a chance to scramble those few feet back to the top of the hill until it felt as if his feet were being pulled from beneath him. Dirt and hot ash flooded his senses. Before he could barely breathe, now he was suffocating. A few times he was swallowed up, but as he desperately clamored for the surface, the few gasps of polluted, ashen air were a godsend.
And then he was free. Thrown back into the encroaching inferno, but at least he wasn't buried alive. Only now, as he began to regain his bearings, he realized that there was something worse than going from the frying pan and into the fire…it was this.
He had fallen into some kind of clearing with a small fallen tree in the center of it. Unfortunately, none of its branches reached the side of the nearly ten foot ridge he had just fallen from and that seemed to encircle the entire clearing. Varric tried to scramble up the embankment, but the loose soil crumbled under his feet and hands. He jumped for a branch that was hanging overhead to attempt to pull himself up, and miraculously he was able to grab it only for it to snap under his weight. Coughing violently, he tried the other side of the glade, but every side was either too high for him to climb up or blocked by a wall of fire. Panting heavily, he collapsed at the foot of the embankment and watched the fire consume the trees around him. He couldn't even make out the sky now, the smoke was so thick. All he could hear was his own panting…the heat of the fire…and for a moment, he realized why his old friend didn't wish for him to take this expedition.
So far, he hadn't the greatest luck with them.
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The smoke had been so thick, they were having trouble breathing. Several times they approached one side only to be pushed back. But miraculously, the wind suddenly shifted and instantly, the flames lost half their bravado.
"Here," he murmured to himself as he approached the leeward side of the stand of trees.
In this area, the line of fire was little more than knee high and not nearly as hot. Each passing moment, the flames became weaker and smaller. But as he eyed the blackened trees ahead of him, the vibrant glow assured him that the fire still hadn't lost its strength further in. Despite this, he was not deterred. He made to jump over until someone grabbed his shoulder and nearly threw him on the ground.
"What in the Four Winds do you think you're doing?"
He righted himself at the last second and then rounded on the ranger with a venomous air, "Get out of my way."
"Are you even thinking rationally right now?"
"I'm of sound mind," he spat
"Truly? Because you're about to run into a mildly-cooling furnace."
Of course, when she put it that way, there were a few slight flaws in his plan. But still, the idea of standing out here while the dwarf was trapped by the fire or worse being chased down by that rabid darkspawn left a foul taste in his mouth.
"Fine, have it your way," she murmured before turning to the mage. "Merrill, go stay in that covered stand over there and tend to your leg. The fire shouldn't reach you there. We'll be back soon."
The mage nodded her consent and limped over to the cover of trees to the south, and considering how helpful she had been in the past, Fenris wasn't distraught to see her leaving.
"I didn't ask for your help," he stated as the ranger tightened her sword belt.
"And how much help would you be to Varric if you found him and couldn't find your way back out?"
"Say what you will, but we've wasted enough time here. If we're going, we're going now."
And without another word, he leapt over the small flames and onto the soft, ashen ground. The ranger was deft to follow and stuck close to him as he led them into the trees. He wasn't sure what he was looking for at this point other than a flash of red or the dwarf's loud, boisterous voice. But as they came closer to the spot where they had last seen him, the ranger suddenly called out.
"Wait." The ranger brushed aside a smoldering limb and pile of ash. Instantly he recognized the red stock and bronze metal engravings. "It's Bianca," the ranger murmured as she pulled the crossbow free and began to study the ground. "There was a struggle, but he got away."
Fenris searched the trees, but the blackened skeletons caused the already dark shadows to play tricks on his eyes while the smoldering embers in-between the wood burned like multitudes of taunting, tiny red eyes. However, even he couldn't miss the path the cumbersome darkspawn had left.
Without waiting for the ranger, he ducked down the trail, "This way."
He dashed over the burnt ground while the ash smothered his steps. It felt like a kiln and he could feel the heat on his feet despite the thick leather boots. He could almost see the trail as easily as the paths and streets back in Kirkwall, but just when he began to gain a glimmer of hope, the path widened abruptly until coming to what looked like a dead end. There was a wide, circular clearing, as if the burnt remains of the plants and wood had been pushed aside. The ground was soft here and noticeably churned and scarred as if something with claws had been tearing at it.
The ranger was suddenly by his side and taking in the scene as one would a book before kneeling down and picking up a handful of dirt.
"There was another struggle. The Blight wolf went this way," she replied as nodded towards the cracked branches and limbs to there right.
"And the dwarf?"
"Give me a moment."
"We don't have a moment!" he snapped vehemently, but the woman merely fixed him with a hard stare that quelled his insistence. Grudgingly, he bit his tongue and stepped aside. Once she had his leave, she crouched down as she methodically picked through the clearing. "What are you doing?"
"Searching…"
"For what?"
"To see if Varric left this place on his own or if the Blight wolf carried him off."
"And?"
"There is burnt blood from the Blight wolf, but I can't find any of Varric's."
"Isn't that good?"
"Not if the fire burned it beyond my recognition. Tainted blood tends to have a higher tolerance to heat."
Another surge of guilt rose up in his chest, enough so he felt like he was going to be sick. He knew something was wrong with the dwarf before they ran from Halamshiral. But instead, he pushed them to run and now look what happened. Cursing he struck out at the nearest tree and split a charred sapling in half.
"Fenris stop." He ignored her and continued to fume. All he could hear was his own venomous words berating the dwarf knowing full well that the merchant had lost someone back in the city after that incident with the mage. Damn him! "Fenris don't move!"
Instincts kicked in and he immediately searched for something else to spring out of the underbrush, but the ranger only seized him by the wrist and pulled his hand close. He tried to snatch it back, but she held him still as she stared intently at something on his gauntlet.
"What are-" Using her fingertips she pulled off a few strands of fine red hair that had gotten tangled into the folds of metal along with the bits of charred wood. His eyes narrowed on it and then turned back to the burnt tree he had destroyed. "Is that Varric's?"
"Yes," she replied as she studied the tree and then at another close by that had fallen over. "He ran past here. But you see the larger trees around us? They've been uprooted. Recently. And not by the fire." She shifted through the soft, ashy dirt and looked up again, "There was a landslide here. Varric must have gotten swept up."
"Then…"
Falon shook her head as she went to another tree, "No, look here, and over there. He was taken with it," she stated as she stood over one spot of tumbled earth that was somewhat flattened, "further into the woods… There's a chance he's still alive."
"Can you track him from here?"
"It's difficult," she replied as she threw the dwarf's crossbow onto her back, "but you don't have a person more suited to this task than the one standing before you."
"I hope so," he murmured as he fell in behind her.
But as she picked her way through the trees and he did his best to mirror her steps, he heard her softly say, "You care for him."
He lightly scoffed under his breath as he kept his eyes peeled on the smoldering woods around them, "Stop reading into things you don't understand."
"Your right, we're just picking through a simmering forest on a whim."
"I owe the dwarf a dept. That is all."
"Varric seems like a good friend to have at your back." She crotched down to the ground again and studied a flatten space of soil before gazing at the blackened trees. "We'll find him, Fenris."
"Yes, but will we find him alive?"
At that, the ranger glanced over her shoulder at him, "If he's anything like you, then I have no doubt."
He was about to make a neutral reply to the ranger when he heard a gurgling growl on his left. The next moment, a huge, black mass leapt onto them.
x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x
His first memories had been of the streets. For all he knew, he was born on the streets, though his brother always hated it when he had put it like that. Why? Because they were from a distinguished merchant clan…at least, that was what he had always been told. He never liked the old, dark tunnels, or the cold, hard stone that his father and brother use to tell him about with such revelry. He enjoyed warmth, and drink, and friends. He liked the life they had, even before he became the merchant prince of Kirkwall, but his mother and brother never did. Perhaps that's why he was so adamant about Blind-eye taking him under his wing when he was younger.
Sure, his brother was cunning and scrupulous when it came to being a merchant, but Blind-eye had known how to handle people. After his father had passed away, no more than a few years after he was born, even then he remembered things had been tough for a while. That's where Blind-eye had come in. 'An old friend of the family,' was what his mother had once told him, but beyond that, the rest Varric had learned for himself. The half-human, half-dwarf was somewhat of a mystery to him for the first few years, but whatever the jumpy man saw in the young dwarf, it was enough to catch his one good eye.
That's what he liked about Blind-eye. He wasn't much to look at, didn't seem like any kind of threat, but he had connections. He knew things. Knew how to handle the information, despite not being the most articulate person in the room. He hadn't always been that skittish. He had actually been quite amicable to the point that most didn't notice the eye. It wasn't until he had a bad run in with Carter some years back and had gone missing for almost a year that the other things emerged. He never spoke about it, and Varric finally stopped asking, but despite the withdrawn shell his old friend had turned into, he was still cunning, still keeping his ear to the ground, and was still eager to help him.
The old bastard had taught him everything he knew now, and refined everything he knew before.
'You have to watch people, Varric. People say more with their eyes and their bodies than they do with their words. And while words can be as sharp and deadly as any dagger, charm and a smile can be more effective in saving your hide.'
He smiled as he remembered the old coot's words before the Carter had garbled his speech and made him jumpy at even his own shadow.
'Cunning isn't something you are born with. You cultivate it, practice it. Anyone can come up with a quip, but it takes a skilled wordsmith to know just how profound his words can be and how useful information can be.'
There was a reason Blind-eye had lasted as long as he did and also a reason why Varric was able to get as far as he had in Kirkwall. He almost wished he hadn't asked him to go searching for the map. Wondered what would have happened if he had just relinquished his hold on Kirkwall…drifted off into the winds like the others had.
"This isn't quite how I imagined you would go out, Varric."
Varric opened his soot-crusted eyes and spotted the main character of all his reminiscings standing before him. Blind-eye had on a light gray tunic with matching pants and a pristine white vest that was the same color as his eye. He was smiling down at him and casually observing their burning, chard surroundings as one would a well decorated room.
Too tired and weary to argue against what he was seeing, he merely chuckled and nodded his head towards the old man, "Yeah, well I'm in the same boat with you, Burslin. Of course, I didn't quite see you going out the way you did either." The half-dwarf chuckled and pulled out a pipe as he sat down next to him. "You seem well," Varric mused.
"There isn't much to be scared of where I am now," he replied with a hint of solemnness. "But despite that, you're not one to give up, Varric. Never had," he added as he nodded to the clearing. "Having your friend run out on you, losing Kirkwall, losing me, things could be worse."
"I'm about to get burned alive, you forgot that part, Burslin."
The old man smiled, "That's not a guarantee."
"Well, don't be offended if I don't quite take that to heart, what with you being a ghost or…whatever. I think this smoke is getting to me."
His old friend nodded at that, "You're running out of air. You're going to start to hallucinate soon."
"I'm not already? That's unfortunate."
Blind-eye smiled at him again and chuckled as he took a seat next to him on the ground, "We all have paths in this world, Varric. Some are set for us, others we make ourselves either on a whim or in need. You've set your path, Varric. It's a noble course if not dire, but one that should not be thrown away carelessly."
"You should know, you warned me from coming here."
"I warned you because I thought I was sending you to your death…but I know now I was wrong. Your companions…together you are far stronger than you perceive yourselves to be."
"The whole point is moot now, isn't it old friend?"
Blind-eye rose from his seat and stared soulfully towards the south, "It slumbers, Varric. It is beginning to stir, but it is not fully awakened yet. There is still time to set things right."
"Now you're not making any sense again."
"You will be given an opportunity to right a horrendous wrong, Varric. Even now it has has all been set into motion. All that remains to be seen are the choices you make now, the choices you make in the future, as well as the choices made by those that accompany you."
"The choices I make now?" Varric coughed. "I fail to see my choice now."
At that, the old man kneeled in front of him and for a moment, all Varric could do was stare into pure white eye. He felt as if he stared long enough, he could almost see just what laid beyond the Veil.
"That one is simple, my friend: do you wish to die or do you wish to live?"
Varric couldn't help himself and merely smirked, "It's like you've always said, Burslin, when have I ever given up that easily?"
The old man chuckled again as he smiled down at him, "Only when it involved a pretty face or a free drink."
"You've always known me well."
"That I have, Varric. That I have."
x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x
When he opened his eyes, they burned and watered, but there was no one there. It had been a dream…at least that's what he told himself. Only…he had never dreamed before. But even in those brief, delirious moments, he felt the drive in him again. Varric hacked and coughed, but forced his legs to hold him. Again he searched for a way out. There had to be one, he just couldn't see it. He wasn't looking in the right places. But as the trees around him threatened to engulf everything in a firey blaze, he heard something that almost seemed foreign here.
Something was…crying. Like that of a dog.
He turned to the fallen tree in the clearing and peered through the smoke as he slowly approached it. But when he finally discerned what it was he was looking at, he hastily backed away.
Clearly, if he got out of here alive, he was going to have to ask the ranger what the wolves of this forest ate. This one was only slightly larger than a mabari, but longer while being a few sizes smaller than the Blight wolf that had chased him down here. Its muzzle was narrow like a normal wolf, and as it growled at him, he could see the rows of teeth and its large canines. Varric slowly continued to back away, but soon realized that he didn't have to. The tree here had fallen over after the fire had eaten out its base. Somehow, the wolf must have gotten caught underneath it when it fell. Even now, Varric could see one of its back legs was pinned underneath the wood and kept it from going anywhere. The wolf turned its attention from him to its trapped leg and began gnawing on the branches around it, all the while the smoke was getting thicker and the air hotter. Varric quickly turned and tried to find another way out before he too got himself trapped.
'Varric…don't be blinded by your fear.'
The dwarf ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head. He floundered through the thick smoke and could hear the snap and cry of trees splintering under the heat, but despite all of that, he could now hear the wolf growling and struggling to free itself.
'Seek out the shrine with those who have forgotten the way.'
Varric scoffed. Just because they were looking for a tomb of some mythical, spooky wolf-god, didn't mean he was going to shovel out a helping hand to any wolf he ran across. That was a good way to lose a hand. Besides, from the way that thing acted, it had as much love for him as its Blight cousins. Amidst the growling and the fire, a low mournful howl came from behind him. It continued for a few seconds before ending in a series of panicked whines.
'Swear you will protect it.'
Varric glanced over his shoulder. The wolf was still tearing at the wood and was catching its own flesh in the process. If it kept it up much longer, it might actually free itself before the fire got it, but lose its foot in doing so. Varric cursed at himself and quickly returned to the fallen tree and wolf. It growled at him again, but this time there didn't seem to be as much confidence behind it. Varric reached down towards the wolf and nearly got a few fingers taken away because of it.
"Damn it, I'm just trying to help, you mangy mutt." As soon as he snapped at the wolf, it laid it ears back and almost seemed to recoil, but at the same time it never took its yellow eyes off him. "Now just…stay."
He could practically feel the flames licking at the back of his neck, but he foolishly remained. He reached around and pulled out a dagger. Again the large wolf recoiled, this time from the sound of scrapping metal, but Varric didn't have time to worry about it now. He then began hacking at the large branch pinning the wolf. As smoldering woodchips began to fly, he swore his leather coat was beginning to sear.
"Just a little more he grunted," as larger chunks began to splinter off. The wolf let out a loud growl just as the tree whined. Finally, with a combined effort of one final thrust and the wolf lurching forward, the branch gave way and the creature was freed. However, Varric didn't have long to celebrate his accomplishments. The furnace that had once been the canopy of trees overhead was now giving way. The dwarf quickly tried to scramble for cover, but the thunderous sound of embers and smoldering wood didn't grant him much confidence that he would make it out of this one.
But just as he was about to resign to his fate, something snatched him from behind his coat and half-dragged, half-threw him though a partially smoldering thicket and into what looked like a dried out stream bed that he hadn't noticed before. He tumbled down at least five or six feet into the slightly muddy bottom and gratefully took in a few lungfuls of semi-smokeless air.
As Varric struggled to get a coughing fit under control, he tried not to think of those teeth he had felt on his back or how the wolf had so easily picked him up and flung him like a rag doll. Even now, he could hear the wolf only a few feet away struggling with its own coughing fit as it tried to clear its lungs. When he recovered, he took a moment to get a look at his resucee-turned-rescuer
It was difficult to discern the creature at the moment. It's fur was stained black and scorched from the fire, and its eyes watery from the smoke. It regarded him with a tentative look and seemed weary of him even after just saving his life.
"Now if only you were white, had two legs instead of four, and growled only a little bit more, I would say you were his younger brother," Varric coughed as he smirked at the wolf. He didn't know what provoked the idea, but Varric slowly began to reach out towards the creature. Instantly the wolf began to tense up and didn't take his eyes off of Varric or his hand. "Yep. The similarities are definitely not lost on me," he mused as he put his hand back down.
With that, the huge wolf began to slowly back away until finally turning and running down the streambed and out of sight. It was then that a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him. Even as the mud seeped into his coat, the coolness of it was refreshing to the oven he had just found himself in. As his eyes closed, he could almost feel it on his face. Like soothing cool, droplets…
And as he drifted off, the skies overhead broke open.
x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x
"Not a word."
"I didn't say anything."
Varric grudgingly pulled himself free of his sleep. He was literally lying down in a bed of mud, but it had been the most restful sleep he had ever had. But when he thought he heard a couple of oh-too-familiar voices floating down the now ankle deep stream, he forced himself up.
"If you had held onto you arrows, we could have avoided this."
Yep, he could discern that drawling voice anywhere. Even now he could picture that blank, scrutinizing look on his face anytime he was in a mood to rile Blondie.
"I wasn't the one who suggested you rip that thing's heart out. We could have used our swords just as easily."
And sure enough, there was their newest member to their merry little band. And from the sounds of it, they duo had put themselves to the ultimate test and had come after him. He had to give them their due for lasting this long and not tearing at each other at this point.
"Then why didn't you when it had me pinned?"
"It dragged you over thirty feet, I was still trying to catch my breath when I reached you."
"You had to catch your breath because you were laughing!" came the elf's fiery retort.
"I was not. I was coughing."
"You were doubled over chortling as that thing tried to maul me!"
He heard a scoffing laugh as if the ranger were trying not to start laughing again, "How exactly was it going to do that with no teeth? It jaws were mangled before it jumped us and you knocked out everything else when you punched it."
"That still didn't prevent it from grabbing me and dragging me off."
"You know what else it didn't prevent? You're yelp when it grabbed you around the leg with its gums."
"Don't deter from the fact that you were less than useless back there."
"Fine, I'll concede to that as long as you admit that the reason you smell like darkspawn waste is because you were overzealous."
"Hold onto your weapons next time."
"Right, next time I'll let the corrupted animals gnaw on your legs while I make sure everything's secure. Besides, when am I the designated archer of this group? I thought that was Varric's forte?"
Right, perhaps now would be a good time to make an appearance.
"You're a ranger. I thought the weapon and its requirements were an implied part of your arsenal."
"Well if we're just going to follow simply stereotypes, then who's ever heard of an elf that doesn't carry a bow or doesn't even know how to use one?"
"Probably along the same lines as a ranger that has no concept of tracking."
He heard the slosh of mud and dirt. At this point he discerned they must have made it to the clearing he had been trapped in earlier.
"The forest was burned and it just rained! I may make this look easy, but trust me it isn't. Ugh, you see, you're just trying to be an ass at this point."
"I at least I make an effort, you can't help but be incompetent right now."
"I see you and broody have still been getting along well," Varric he huffed as he was finally able to get his head over the side of the bank.
"Varric?"
Two forms were suddenly grabbing him by his arms and hoisting him up the side. Never before had he felt this relieved to see the sour elf. He even thought Fenris was about to hug him at one point, but the warrior pulled away at the last minute. Instead, he handed him his water skin before giving him a curt nod. Varric took both with a relieved smile. At this point, water had never tasted so good and once again he felt the sudden urge to go back to sleep in the mud.
"Here, you dropped someone, Varric," the ranger replied as she handed him his beautiful Bianca, somewhat dingy and muddy, but nothing a night of tender cleaning wouldn't solve.
"Daisy?" he asked.
"She was a little rattled and bruised and her leg was burned when we fell out of the trees," the ranger replied. "It wasn't bad, but I thought it better for her to take care of it."
He was relieved to hear that, but had the urge to get back to the now unaccompanied mage.
"I have to say," he coughed after he took another draft of water, "you two look like you've been to the Void and back."
"Then you can imagine what you look like, dwarf," the warrior replied, but there was a ghost of a smirk there. Varric made to laugh, but only started coughing again.
The ranger instantly took a knee beside him and started rummaging through her pack. She had several jars and pouches laid out and started poking him and prodding him in a fashion that was reminiscent of Daisy. She took the waterskin from him and handed him her own pouch after he watched her pour several different powders in it. He sipped it and nearly spat it out.
"You need to finish it," Falon stated as she tended to several burns on his arm.
"Easy for you to say."
"Just how did you survive, dwarf?" the elf asked as he stared at the blackened remains of the clearing. The only thing in the place that had any semblance of color now was the darkening sky overhead that was awashed in different shades of reds, purples, and blues.
"You little brother gave me a helping hand."
Both of them stopped and turned to give him equally ponderous looks, "Come again?" The elf then rounded on the ranger, "What did you give him?"
Falon snatched the bottle back as she smelled the contents, "Nothing that causes dementia."
Varric chuckled again and shook his head, "It was a wolf. I, uh, helped it from under this tree. I suppose it was magnanimous enough to return the favor and threw me into the river bed."
"A blight wolf saved you?" the elf asked.
"No, this one wasn't corrupted, at least I don't think it was."
At that, the ranger abruptly stood up and began putting away her jars, "I'm done. But we should start heading back. It will be hard enough through here without trying to make our way in the pitch dark."
"Do you have any rope?" the elf suddenly asked. The ranger checked her pack and nodded. "Here, take mine as well and go secure a line to one of the trees at the top of the slope so we can get him out of here."
To Varric's surprise, the woman took the rope and headed over to the steep incline without a word or complaint. In the dwindling light, they watched her begin to climb as they waited.
"Dwarf…Varric, I…"
Varric turned his attentions back to the warrior. The elf had that restless, twitchy look about him, the same one he got whenever he was having trouble voicing something…or whenever he was about to plunge his hand into someone's chest. But considering how they weren't in the midst of another fight and they weren't about to interrogate some ill begotten slaver, he was betting on the former.
"In Halamshiral…I did not realize he was your friend."
Varric felt a bitterness well up in him from the memory, but for the first time it didn't seem as debilitating, "Blind-eye…he, uh, he was a good man. A good friend. Sometimes in this line of work…we're just caught unprepared."
"It was after the darkspawn attacked that I realized I had erred. I should not have forced a standoff like that. And then when I realized what had happened, I did not think…"
"Come on, elf. You know me better than that. The Deeproads couldn't get the better of me; did you really think a little forest fire and rabid Darkspawn were?"
"For a moment I had to wonder."
"Well, now I'm just offended."
There was little amusement in the elf's features, but there was something. He was seeing it more and more ever since the broody elf first woke up in his abode in the Hanged Man. And it was something he was glade he was seeing more of.
Just then, he spotted the ranger coming down the steep embankment. This time she was jumping from one spot to another. How she was able to discern which parts were going to hold her and how she did it so quickly, he didn't know. She nimbly hit the ground and made her way back over to them while caring the tail end of the rope.
"I've got everything secure up there. If you tie this end to him, I can help pull him up from the top."
"No, I'll do it. I'll be able to pull both of you up if you should slip."
Again, to the dwarf's surprise, the ranger just nodded her consent and stepped back, "Make sure you have solid footing this time. And don't trust anything to hold your weight as you grab branches." The moment she said that, there was a sharp snap of a branch and the elf slid down a few feet before catching himself and resuming the climb as if nothing had happened.
"Told you," the ranger murmured under her breath as she brought him the rope and proceeded to tie a harness around his torso. "You know, I'm also glad we're not bringing a bag of chard ash out of these woods."
"Have I ever told you how charming you can be?"
The ranger smirked and secured the rope under his arms, "He's was worried, if you haven't discerned that by now. Merrill too."
"Well I would be just heartbroken if Daisy didn't bat an eyelash to my absence, but the elf…well what can I say, he does tend to let people grow on him, as much as it's hard to believe."
The ranger continued to smirk as she worked in silence. As she did, he remembered Blind-eye and his so-called hallucination. He could still recall it clear as if he had spoken with the old man during a regular conversation. He also remembered the day they were run out of Kirkwall and the ranger's not so enthusiastic feelings towards their venture.
"Falon. Now that you and I have a moment, there's something I wanted to say."
"What is it, Varric?"
"So, don't take this the wrong way, but I know your kind." At that, the ranger stilled as she finished tying the knot and gave him a perplexed, slightly panicked looked. "You think you know what's best, even if others say otherwise. You weren't keen on this whole adventure in the first place, and well…I know how you are with Daisy, even the elf. You'll make sure we'll survive this fool's errand, even if it means sabotaging it. Stop me if I'm wrong."
To her credit, the ranger didn't seem the least bit contrite when she stared him in the eye yet was utterly silent.
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Varric."
"I know Blind-eye died for it. I know they're risking everything for it as well. And frankly, what do you think you will accomplish by trying to fight us every step of the way?"
"It seems I'm merely fighting the inevitable."
"I just…I just don't want his death to be for nothing. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" At that, the ranger bowed her head and slowly nodded. "That's why I want you to swear to get us there."
"You want my word? How valuable do you really think that is, Varric?"
"Valuable enough. You aren't the kind to break it, not easily at least."
"Even if I manage this, what makes you think there will even be something for you there?"
"Blind-eye thought there was. I owe it to him to at least do this."
For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse him, but ever so slowly she extended her hand while still holding his gaze.
"If it means this much to you, then yes: you have my word, Varric."
With a smirk, he reached out and took her hand, "Good, now what's for dinner, I'm starving?"
"Why are you asking me?" she replied as the rope became taunt and the dwarf began to make his climb up the steep embankment.
"Because, we're low on supplies and being the hunter I know you to be, surely you know it prudent to take advantage of our surrounding resources."
For a second, he thought he heard the ranger curse softly. She then abruptly turned and began heading towards another copse of trees.
"Where are you going now?"
"I'll catch up with the both of you at Merrill's camp. I have to go find my arrows…"