A/N: I'm writing this story for this year's NaNoWriMo, using my canon save from the game as my outline. The M rating is for eventual language. As always, Bioware owns everything; I'm merely playing in their sandbox. This chapter took longer than I expected it to, considering its length, cause I'm way too picky about some of the game mechanics that don't necessarily have a place in a fic, but that I wanted to at least know for myself anyway for my own understanding. Also, I originally intended to take this all the way through Kolgrim, but I like the final scene in this version of this chapter so Kolgrim and the dragon can wait another turn.
Demonic spirits teach more than blood magic.
Elissa stood before the entrance to the temple early the next morning with Alistair, Morrigan, and Zevran and studied the carvings on the door carefully, looking for the latch Genitivi had said would reveal the door's lock. After resting a bit, the Brother had drawn detailed sketches the temple's layout and of various mechanisms and locks they could expect to encounter within.
She compared one of these sketches to the door before her now and traced a finger along one of the carvings. Finding the catch she pulled it gently and a compartment opened to reveal more patterns in the stone. Elissa pressed the medallion she took from Eirik's body into the indentation and twisted it sunwise three-quarters of a full turn. The door's main release gave a loud clack and the door itself cracked and stood ajar.
Genitivi's maps detailed what he referred to as the outer complex and the caverns. According to him, there were actually two temples—the one here near the base of the mountain that was opened by the medallion, and another far above the first. Between the two lay a sprawling complex of tunnels cut into the mountain itself, which opened out to what had once been a grand courtyard leading into the inner complex. Unfortunately, the Brother had little to no information on the second temple; he knew only that an unknown series of trials waited within its walls.
With help from Alistair she managed to swing the entry wide enough that they could enter and cautiously led the way inside. Even in its ruined state, the grandeur of the hall was breathtaking. Intricately carved columns extended high overhead, with delicate appearing arches stretching between them to add stability to the structure. The hall itself was many times larger than any structure she'd ever set foot in, even the massive cathedral in Cumberland. A grand staircase dominated the furthest reaches of the room, framing the smoldering firepit in the center of the chamber as miniature rainbows danced off the errant ice crystals in the air.
Elissa suddenly regretting asking Leliana to stay behind with Sten to take care of Brother Genitivi this morning. Whatever history her friend may have had as a bard in Orlais—or perhaps because of that history—she was an intensely faithful woman and would have been overwhelmed by not only the majesty of the temple but the peacefulness of it as well.
Her attention was drawn back to the embers in the firepit and she realized that the temple could not be unoccupied. Reluctantly she drew her weapons as she began to lead the way across the hall, her eyes everywhere at once: the top of the grand stair, the two small corridors extending to each side of the main hall, and the dozens of shadows between the columns and collected snow drifts.
As she began to climb the stair they all heard voices far in the distance. They paused to listen a few moments; there seemed to be more than one group of villagers ahead somewhere. Zevran notched an arrow silently and gave Elissa an inquisitive look. When she nodded he ghosted ahead of them and positioned himself where he could see the villagers while still able to see back to her. He gestured back in her direction.
Three groups. Between three and five men each. All distracted. Eliminating nearest now.
Elissa was slightly surprised to realize that she understood all this. Oriana had tried teaching her the Antivan hand language at the same time she taught Elissa to speak Antivan, but she'd never really gotten the hang of it. She quickly translated for Alistair and Morrigan. While he readied his sword and shield the witch positioned herself opposite of where Zevran loosed his arrows on the first group and waited for her own turn to strike.
The elf had ducked behind his cover again before the bodies of his victims hit the icy floor. Alistair and Elissa finally climbed the stair, showing themselves just as the remaining villagers realized their comrades were dead. There were nine total, and they charged the two Wardens, none of them seeming to grasp that their dead had sprouted feathers from their chests while neither of the two intruders they saw wore a bow.
As they passed Morrigan in her hiding spot she stepped out behind them, her eyes shut in concentration and her arms tracing patterns in the air before her. The witch finally released the power she had conjured and a towering column of flame rose from the floor between her and Elissa, engulfing the men and burning them alive.
A single man escaped from the center of the inferno and he charged at Alistair, his massive claymore held in both hands over his head. The templar blocked the blow with his raised shield, and Elissa began to move into position to strike from behind. She sprinted to the warrior with her dagger reversed in her off hand and ready to sink it between his shoulder blades when suddenly she collapsed, clutching at her heart and screaming in pain.
Her momentum carried her forward and into the man's legs as she fell, and as he rounded on her briefly she realized his eyes were like blood and they practically glowed in rage. She was so terrified she couldn't even defend herself as he lifted his blade to strike out at her, but Alistair placed himself between them in time and took the brunt of the blow with his shield.
Alistair fought the crazed man back away from her gradually. He began a wide backhand swing, and just before his blade struck the man crystalized into a solid block of ice. Already in motion, the sword swept through the sudden statue, and the man shattered into a thousand jagged shards.
Elissa still lay crumpled on the ground, delirious as she sobbed in pain. Morrigan got to her just ahead of Alistair and forced to her lie flat while the witch examined her.
"What hit her?" the witch finally demanded of Alistair.
"I- I don't kn-"
The witch scowled and waved him back, then dug out numerous potions from her knapsack. She considered the vials before her and snatched up a number of them, stowing the rest in her bag again.
"Get me all the medicine vials Elissa had in her packs," she ordered the men. As they dug through not only Elissa's pack but also their own for all the medicines they could find, Morrigan pulled Elissa to where she was half sitting, clutching now at her stomach as well as her chest.
The witch began slowly feeding Elissa the potions one at a time. When her own were exhausted she considered the containers Alistair and Zevran retrieved. She selected over half of them and began pressing each of these to Elissa's lips, forcing her to drain each one. Gradually she relaxed, and her sobs trailed off as she slept.
Elissa woke to find herself on a crude cot and tucked under a mountain of blankets. There was no light to see by, and as she tried to sit up she was gently but firmly pressed back into place.
"You're not well enough to move yet," a rich female voice advised her softly.
"Morrigan? What's happened?"
The cot shifted a bit as Morrigan sat on its edge. "We are in a barracks of sorts, in an antechamber of the temple. You collapsed in the battle; by your reaction I thought perhaps you were struck with some sort of blood magic, but none of the men we killed were mages."
She remembered the pain then and instinctively her hand went to her belly, searching for a wound. She then shot up in panic, struggling against Morrigan's attempts to press her back to the cot and rest.
"Where's everyone else?" she breathed, almost in tears. "Alistair, is he-"
Morrigan brushed her fingers across Elissa's forehead and the younger woman fell silent, staring blankly into the dark for a moment. "Your love is safe, Warden, or as safe as any of us are. Whatever the warrior you faced did to you, Alistair seems to be immune to the effect. He and Zevran are clearing the temple now, so that we can continue once you are rested."
Elissa allowed Morrigan to lay her back and tuck the blankets around her again. The fog that had come over her was just beginning to clear when she heard Morrigan murmuring a spell, and then the Warden was again asleep.
It was morning when she awoke again, and she smiled in relief when she saw Alistair sleeping on the lower half of a double bunk to her left; even asleep his face etched with concern. Glancing around a moment she noticed a dark arm hanging over the edge of the upper level of Alistair's bunk, but the cot to her right was empty. Sitting up slowly she saw the witch not far away, tending a small fire in the room's hearth.
Morrigan must have heard her stir, for she turned and raised one finger to her lips before pointing toward the sleeping men. Elissa quietly got out of the bed and crossed to where the witch was keeping the fire strong enough to warm them, but small enough to limit the volume of smoke rising up the chimney.
"Are they going to be alright?" she asked quietly as she sat near the fire herself.
Morrigan nodded. "They are exhausted, is all. I thought to let them sleep a while before preparing breakfast; if I start to cook the bacon now your fool will wake too soon, and will not be at his best."
"You aren't nearly the bitch you pretend to be, you know," Elissa smirked at her suddenly. "You have an attitude, certainly, but really not too much worse than I would get at my worst, back home when I could afford to be a brat if I felt like it."
"Repeat those words where anyone can hear you, and I'll turn you into the toad that Alistair's so afraid of," Morrigan spat, though not with her usual venom. She almost looked worried more than she did offended, and Elissa had to resist the urge to laugh as the witch's gaze fell on Alistair and Zevran as if making certain they had not heard.
Still smiling slightly she got up to retrieve her main pack, digging through it for some dried fruit she had hidden in a small pocket near the bottom. The bag was significantly lighter than she remembered it being, and she frowned. "What happened to all my medicines?"
"Not just your own, but most of the medicines we had with us. I am no healer, and I had to improvise when you fell." Morrigan fell quiet for a moment before continuing. "You were only near the man a few moments, but when I reached you? You seemed near death, yet you had no wounds. I did the only thing I knew."
Elissa didn't know how to respond, and so they both were silent for a while. Alistair mumbled something in his sleep behind them and she frowned.
"He doesn't know how bad it was, does he?" she finally asked quietly.
Morrigan shook her head. "He is enough trouble for me when you are here to control him. I needed him focused enough to be able to clear out any other groups hidden here in the temple while you recovered, so I told him it was merely the medicines that were affecting you so."
On an impulse Elissa reached forward and hugged Morrigan close. The witch froze for a moment, unsure how to react, before briefly returning the embrace.
"Thank you, Morrigan."