Some major changes to this one. I toned down Leliana's and Sara's flirting during the celebratory dinner and added a bit about Sten. I also decided to move the assassin's attempt on Leliana elsewhere. I'm not sure where just yet, but I wanted to make it it's own chapter. Anything you recognize from the game belongs to BioWare.
Chapter 6 – The Bargain
"He's just a child! Don't tell me we're actually considering this," Leliana's voice cracked with desperation.
"I know he is, but…he's an abomination," Alistair said quietly.
Leliana opened her mouth to protest again but Sara cut her off,
"Would you really be willing to give your life?" she asked the Arlessa.
Isolde thought for a moment before saying, "To save the life of my only son, yes…"
"You can't be serious!" Alistair exclaimed, starting towards Sara. "This is the Arl's wife you're talking about killing!"
"And the alternative is his son," Sara retorted.
Alistair opened his mouth to respond, but Sten placed a massive hand on his shoulder to restrain him. He had served Sara with unquestioning devotion since she had recovered his sword, Asala. A scavenger had attempted to rob their camp while Alistair and Sten kept watch. When he saw the Qunari, he'd tried to run, but hew as only released after confessing that he'd taken the sword and sold it to a dwarf in Redcliffe. Sara had tracked him down as soon as they'd set foot in the village.
"I'm not talking about killing anyone," she snapped, rubbing her face with her hands and tugging at the locks of dark hair that hung in front of her eyes. Things in Redcliffe had not gone well in the least, beginning with Alistair's confession that he was the product of the late King Marric's wandering affection, or, as Sara put it, that he was "not only a bastard, but a royal bastard." Compound that with the Arl's mysteriously incurable and terminal illness, and the fact that his wife had unwittingly hired a blood mage to secretly teach their son Connor to control his powers. The lessons had evidently been to no avail, as the boy had gone and gotten himself possessed by one seriously twisted demon.
And now, because the Maker was apparently a fan of dramatic irony, Connor's mother was volunteering to give her life to save Connor in a ritual suggested by the same damn blood mage who caused all of this mess.
"If I may," began Jowan, the blood mage whose name Sara was presently cursing.
"You may not," she snapped again, looking at him with unbridled fury. At present, her only options included either killing the boy or killing his mother, neither of which Sara could bring herself to do. "Is there no other way?" she asked desperately, looking amongst the three mages that stood in the room.
"Perhaps," said Wynne slowly. It was only now that Sara realized that Wynne, who usually shared her council when the young Warden was conflicted, had remained quiet since they'd discovered the boy's condition. The mage sighed and closed her eyes, "It is a risk, but there may be a way to save Connor without sacrificing his mother."
"I am willing to take a risk to save a life," said Sara quietly, stepping to Wynne and grasping her hand gently.
Wynne opened her eyes, and Sara felt a sharp pang in her chest when she saw that she was on the verge of tears. The mage nodded and continued. "With an adequate amount of lyrium and more mages, there is a ritual we could perform to send someone into the Fade to confront the demon."
"The Circle!" said Alistair excitedly. "They have plenty of lyrium, and they owe us!"
"Yes," murmured Wynne, "but the Tower is two days' travel. There is a chance-"
"I can go," cut in Leliana, already starting towards the door. "I am the fastest; I can make it there a day and a half; one, if I do not stop."
"Wait," said Sara. Everyone turned to look at her, but it was Morrigan she was eyeing with the sudden dawning of an idea. "You are the fastest, Leliana," she conceded. "In human form…"
Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "Let us discuss this in another room," said the witch almost inaudibly.
Sara nodded curtly and followed her out of the door and down the hallway to a broom cupboard.
"You are asking me to seek the aide of the Circle?" she asked when they'd closed the door from any potentially prying eyes.
"I know you do not care for them," Sara began delicately, knowing that 'care' did not begin to cover the witch's disdain. "But when you joined us, you agreed to a form of service. We need you," she implored.
Morrigan was silent for several seconds, staring at the Warden unblinkingly. Finally, she raised her chin and said,
"If I am to do this, you must do something for me in return."
Sara peered at her uncertainly for a moment, wondering where this could possibly be going. "Go on."
The witch relaxed slightly, choosing her words carefully as she continued.
"I have found, within the grimoire you recovered, the secret to Flemeth's…prolonged life."
"Let me guess, she sacrifices children and eats babies," blurted Sara, unable to stop herself.
"That is closer to the truth than I'm sure you would like to believe," she said with such an even tone that a shiver ran down Sara's spine. "As Flemeth grows older, she raises a daughter. When she becomes too old, she claims the body of her daughter for herself, thus further extending her life."
"Your body…" Sara said slowly, comprehension working its way across her face.
Morrigan nodded. "Obviously, 'tis not my wish to be her next victim. I need you," the expression on her face hardened once more, "to kill her for me."
"Kill Flemeth?" asked Sara incredulously. "The Flemeth? Is that even possible?"
"At the moment, no, mostly likely not," Morrigan conceded. "But in our- her," she corrected herself, "home, there is another grimoire that I believe contains the secret to killing her."
"And you cannot confront her yourself?" Sara raised her eyebrows.
"If she were felled while I am present, she would simply take my body for her own. This is why I require your assistance, in exchange for this favor you require," her eyes narrowed.
Sara frowned. Surely Morrigan knew that she would have done it without asking for anything in returned. She supposed, however, that this would have made the witch feel indebted – certainly an unwelcome emotion for her.
"Very well," she bowed her head. "If you obtain the Circle's assistance as quickly as possible, I will kill Flemeth and retrieve her grimoire." Though she said this as if they were merely discussing the weather, an uncertainty tugged at her gut.
Morrigan's expression did not change, but she nodded curtly and left the broom cupboard. Sara sighed and walked back down to the hall to the room where the others waited.
"What took so long?" Alistair demanded when she'd reentered.
"It is done," she looked at Isolde, ignoring his question. "My companion is on her way to the Circle Tower. For now," she glanced at Connor lying on the floor, subdued for the time being, "we will just have to wait."
She sank to the floor and cradled her face in her hands, praying that this wait would not be in vain.
xxx
"Everybody back!" Sara ordered, waving her hands to clear the space around Morrigan, who was collapsed on the floor. The Warden watched the witch breathlessly as her eyelids fluttered opened.
"It is done. The demon is dead." Her voice was raspy as she eased herself up. Sara quickly moved to help her and was surprised when Morrigan did not jerk away from her touch. Isolde cried out happily behind them as Connor stirred, rising from the deep sleep into which the Circle mages had lulled him. The mages themselves were smiling and congratulating each other quietly, exhausted from the ritual. Leliana and Wynne embraced, and Sara honestly could not tell who seemed more relieved. Alistair was shaking hands with First Enchanter Irving, and while Sten betrayed characteristically little emotion, he bowed his head in acknowledgment of the mages' success.
Amongst the happy chaos, Sara leaned in towards Morrigan's ear.
"Thank you," she whispered. Though she did not have to, the witch had volunteered to enter the Fade and confront the demon that had possessed Connor, thus saving Wynne the strain of partaking in the ritual.
"You gave me your word," she said, catching Sara's arm as she pulled away.
"As a Cousland," responded Sara solemnly. Morrigan relaxed her grip – although the Warden's devotion to her family was tiresome and trite, she was now certain the girl would not go back on her word.
"Come, we must feast!" Isolde called to the room, signaling an elven servant who just entered the room.
"I thought I would receive a reward of some sort, not this punishment," muttered Morrigan, pressing her hand to her forehead as Sara helped her to her feet.
"Just eat and run," the Warden whispered out of the side of her mouth, suppressing a smirk. "You could use your heroic acts as an excuse to leave early."
"Sometimes you are shockingly wise, Warden," said Morrigan, and Sara could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile touch the corners of the witch's mouth.
xxx
Because dinner was a last-minute affair, nobody had worn the traditional formal attire that was customary of a celebratory feast, and Sara found this positively delightful. Even more delightful was the food. Though she was raised in a noble house where food was always plenty and rich, if she so desired it, she was not particularly fickle when it came to her meals. That being said, she had grown very tired of soldier's rations and dried meat, and the delicious fare provided by the Arlessa and her staff was more than welcome.
Sara looked up at her neighbor. The Qunari sat in what could almost be described as reverent silence, a massive plate of cookies before him. He plucked another from the platter and placed it in his mouth, chewing with delicate focus.
"Enjoying those, Sten?" inquired Sara with no small amount of amusement.
He swallowed and licked his lips, breathing deeply.
"They are so sweet," his deep voice rumbled. "Like bread, but more…crumbly."
"They're called cookies," she informed him solemnly.
"Yes," he murmured. "We have nothing like this in Par Vollen. These 'cookies' are…remarkable."
The Warden hummed noncommittally, attempting to hide the smile that was creeping across her face as she watched the warrior place another cookie in his mouth.
"Sara," slurred Alistair from across the table, drawing the Warden's attention away from Sten. Over the course of the meal, the Templar had grown increasingly drunker, but Sara had not missed the fact that he had drained only two goblets of wine.
"Yes, Alistair?" she asked the swaying Warden as she tried very hard to maintain a serious face.
"Thank you," he bowed his head solemnly, "for...evv-rything you did." He hiccupped. "You are'n 'mazing leader."
"Thank you for the compliment," she ducked her head to keep him from seeing the smile that was taking over her face as she tried to steady her breathing and stifle her laughter. Leliana, having witnessed Alistair's escalating drunkenness, giggled and clapped a hand over her mouth. "What?" he asked, turning to look at the bard next to him.
"Nothing, Alistair," she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "That was very kind of you to say," she glanced at Sara and bit her lip, shaking her head as he hiccupped once more. The Warden didn't know whether it was the candlelight or the wine she'd also enjoyed, but the way Leliana's eyes glinted as she looked at her across the table made her heart skip pleasantly in her chest. The bard's gaze lingered on her just a moment too long and she looked away quickly, cursing that heat on her neck that was becoming a little too familiar.
"Tell me, Warden," she heard Leliana say. She swallowed forced herself to meet the Orlesian's eyes.
"Yes?" she asked in what she had hoped was a natural voice but was in reality several pitches higher than her usual tone.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Leliana's blue eyes pierced her once more, and Sara could feel the breath catch in her chest.
"I am."
"And what is your favorite part?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and giving her a painfully playful smile.
Sara thought for a moment, unsure of what to say or what to make of Leliana's behavior. She swallowed, realizing she'd let the bard's question hang in the air for a little too long.
"The company," she answered finally.
"That is my favorite part as well," Leliana responded quietly, the smile still playing across her face as she raised her chin and rested it on her palm, turning away from Sara to look down the table.
So enthralled was she when Leliana burst into peals of silvery laughter in response to a comment farther down the table that she did not notice Wynne glancing knowingly between the bard and the Warden, the faintest shadow clouding her eyes.