Many thanks to BloodIronAngel, Cibiripilli, Nemrut, mille libri, JadeOokami, Mike3207 (for chapter three), Zukafew119 (thank you for the lovely long review!), spectre4hire, Gemini1179, JordanMathias, none, Marvey4, lazyguy90, Suilven, Mike again for this chapter, Zikarn Krais, Ronin Kenshin, owl208, and karthik9.
You lovely people have really inspired me. Some filler again this chapter and some battle. I tried to keep things brief so I could get to the cliff-hanger. I'm considerate that way...What is it that Anders says? I'm a giver...
Oh and by the way, my big Cousland boy actually pulled the stunt in this chapter off in the game. The only Warden of mine who ever has.
Lothering was a grey ghost of itself. Corin remembered the little town as a bustling center of commerce for the area. Even filled with refugees it had been an attractive place. Now all the earth was grey or black, the trees dead skeletons. From the vantage point of the highway, their party could look down upon it and see the bodies scattered untended in the streets. Just bones now, of no interest to scavengers, had there even been any. Which there weren't. Not a crow, not a rat, no feral cats slunk through the area. The area had been rich in wildlife once, creatures displaced by the coming Blight. Corin remembered killing wolves and bears for silver there, once upon a time. The abandoned windmill's tattered sails flapped in the breeze and it emitted the odd mournful creak that could be heard even up on the highway.
He cast a surreptitious glance at Leliana, whose face looked stricken. "I have to think Ser Bryant got the Revered Mother and the rest of the chantry staff out, Leli. He seemed a competent and compassionate man."
She nodded. "I hope the Maker and the Lady are looking after him, wherever he is. I did ask at the chantry in Denerim but they'd not gone there. Perhaps Gwaren, or even Highever. Whoever is in charge of Highever, surely they'd not turn refugees away?"
"I would like to think so."
She turned to him suddenly, her expression fierce. "This is what my vision was like, Corin! This, everywhere! We have to stop it!"
"We will stop it," he assured her, though in his heart he was anything but certain. There were always armies of Wardens to go against the Archdemon before. Armies of them, on griffons. Despite the seriousness of the thought, he had to smile, remembering suddenly how irritated Wynne had been with him during her campaign to instill in him a proper appreciation for the Grey Wardens with little homilies and stories. She'd been very worried and not a little affronted that he'd taken his Joining so resentfully. Corin's defense against the parables had been to keep on insisting upon hearing about griffons until she'd thrown up her hands in despair. "You are such a boy, Corin Cousland!" she had snapped. He wasn't and hadn't been since Highever, but it had been fun to pretend every once in a while.
Leliana, seeing that smile, smiled back at him in return. "With you on our side, we cannot hope but to prevail," she said. "I am sure of it."
Corin cocked an eyebrow at her. "Pressure, much?" They both laughed, then fell silent once more, listening to the rhythmic ringing of steel-shod hooves on stone.
By unspoken accord, they did not stop for a break until they were through the blighted area, which was nearly nightfall. Though the horses were becoming increasingly tired, they did not balk either, seeming to know instinctively that there was nothing wholesome there for them. When they finally came around a curve and found greenery ahead instead of black and grey ruin, the mood of the party palpably lightened and the horses lifted their weary heads and sped up a bit.
"Let's move a bit further down the road, get well out of the Blight, then take six hours. We need to be moving again after midnight," Corin said to the Arl and Teagan. Both men nodded. Arl Eamon had asked for one of the stamina draughts shortly after noon. It had brightened him up considerably, but he was flagging now. Corin figured he'd offer another when they set out again.
They made camp in an abandoned farmstead, which still had some decent pasture despite the lateness of the year, hobbling the horses and turning them out to graze for a while. Teagan's second horse was trying to throw a shoe, so Corin played farrier while the soldiers filled water troughs and set to making tea over the farmhouse hearth. His boon companions, having dealt with their mounts, stood by helpfully supervising.
"He's very clever, isn't he?" Leliana remarked. "I must say, I like a man who can do lots of things with his hands."
"Indeed," Zevran agreed. They closed in. Corin, stooped over with a hoof caught between his knees, a mouth full of horseshoe nails and hands full of clincher and nippers, could do nothing as a pair of hands slid up beneath his armor in the back and rubbed his ass.
"Ro you rwo mide?" he growled at them through the nails.
"Not in the least, my dear Warden," Zevran said, eyes twinkling. "Always happy to take advantage of someone who is not in a position to pay me back. A habit which you seem to have picked up as well."
"Besides, Corin," Leliana chimed in. "You must know that this sort of thing is going to happen. It's only to be expected. It is a fine ass. Almost a lucky charm caliber of ass. It begs to be rubbed." Zevran snickered.
"Rady rake you roth."
It was actually a couple of hours past midnight before they were back on the road again. Later than Corin would have liked, but the horses desperately needed the long break and seemed much refreshed by the opportunity given them to graze. But the knowledge that they were past Lothering and two thirds of the way to their destination invigorated the men and they swung into their saddles without complaint. Arl Eamon was doing better for the longer rest as well, and decided to forego another stamina draught for the immediate future.
Corin himself had gotten maybe three hours of uneasy, dream-ridden sleep in which the Archdemon Urthemiel sat down to tea with him and discussed with him the way the wool had been pulled over Corin's eyes in the most amiable manner possible. The Archdemon wavered in the dream between a dragon who was man-sized and his full size, and the tea-cup he was drinking from shifted appropriately as well. So Corin had alternated between sitting at a table with a man-sized Urthemiel's draconic countenance leering at him over the tea service, and sitting at the dragon's feet drinking from a lady's delicate tea cup while Urthemiel sipped tea from one large enough for Corin to bathe in. It was hardly the sort of dream to inspire confidence because despite Urthemiel's apparent cordiality, an undercurrent of fear ran through the dream- the certainty that the first wrong move or word would cause the Archdemon to eat him.
Upon awakening, he'd immediately tried to sense for darkspawn in the area, thinking that perhaps they had inspired the dream. But there was no sign of them. To get back into the saddle was almost a relief, even with the way his overworked muscles were protesting. He'd used some of Wynne's salve himself finally and it did help. But he really didn't begin to feel entirely himself until dawn began to paint the horizon pink.
The last stretch of the journey was the most brutal for horse and man, exhausted as they were. Four hours in, Eamon made use of another stamina potion and Corin had to use two more, as well as two healing potions, on a couple of the horses who had gone lame. He pushed the pace, but there was no complaint, for the men were nearing home and were worried for their families. What little talk they had the strength for dealt with whether the darkspawn had attacked Redcliffe in their absence.
At noon they took a brief break, off-saddling, watering and switching mounts one last time, taking another brief, cold meal. For the first part of the day's journey they had had Lake Calenhad's smaller section upon their left hands. Now they were crossing the peninsula between the two halves. Soon after they began riding again, the lake came back into view. A quiet cheer went up from the Redcliffe men, for they knew they were nearly home. The horses had one brief canter left in them, then they were pulled to a shambling halt in the hills above the road down to the town.
"Dismount," the Prince commanded. "We'll leave the horses tethered here for now." He indicated a copse of trees. The men hastened to do his bidding, a couple of them coming over to take his and Eamon's and Teagan's mounts. The three men walked to the head of the road.
"Extraordinary! Three and a half days and not a single horse killed, Your Royal Highness!" Eamon said to the Prince. Corin acknowledged him with a nod, his expression abstracted. When the arl started to speak again, the Prince silenced him with an uplifted hand. There was a long moment of silence, then he spoke.
"Sorry Eamon, but the darkspawn are in the town. I'm feeling the usual sorts; genlocks, hurlocks. Is that an…emissary? Yes, I think it is. And some blight wolves. Damn. Too bad Pook's not with us-chewing on blight wolves is his favorite thing. And an ogre…wait. Two ogres. Wow. We rate." He then lifted the spyglass he'd pulled from his saddlebags and looked down into the town.
"Why didn't you use the glass first?" Teagan asked.
"I like to test how good I'm getting at sensing these things," Corin murmured. "Yup. There's an emissary, down close to the lakeside houses. Maker, I hate those things! And the two ogres. I am so totally awesome, as Zev would say." He lifted the spyglass and looked out over the water. "A lot of boats out there, Eamon. Looks like the village took to the water. A smart idea and it works-unless the Archdemon is here. Which it isn't, because I'd certainly feel it this close." He handed the spyglass to the arl, who took a look, then handed it in his turn to Teagan.
After the bann had had a look, he asked, "So what now?"
"Well, I'm thinking that once we get into the town you should take any archers and Leli and Zev and take that blasted emissary out, Teagan. Quickly as possible-those things are a pain. My lord arl, if you'll take the foot troops and cover them and deal with the darkspawn foot troops, that would be great."
"What will you be doing?" the arl inquired curiously.
"I've got the ogres," Corin said, straight-faced.
When the men were done dealing with the horses, they all gathered together and the orders were given. Starting down the hill towards the windmill, it was not long until they met resistance-hurlocks and the blight wolves Corin had spoken of. But they were able to make short work of them. Crossing the bridge was a little more difficult-there was a huge hurlock there that stymied them, but only briefly. The Prince took him on while the Redcliffe men dealt with his followers. Then they were on the slope leading down to the town proper. The two ogres were plainly visible, lumbering about Owen's smithy, picking things up and looking at them blankly.
But Corin's attention was focused elsewhere. "See him, Teagan? Down there by the dockside houses? Short guy with the bad hat?"
"I've got him," Teagan answered, lifting his sword and gesturing to the men who were going with him. Zevran, who had been right beside him, suddenly vanished. Teagan looked around, startled.
"Don't worry, he knows how to stay out of the way. And the emissary won't see him coming either," Corin said with a grin. Lifting his own sword, he shouted, "Redcliffe! For the Grey Wardens!" and charged down the hill.
Eamon and the Redcliffe knights followed after. It had been some time since Eamon had seen battle. He had been sparring regularly since his cure and had just recently begun to get back up to what he considered a decent standard. The journey had been hard on him, but so close to home, with Isolde and Connor in possible peril, he found himself inspired, killing hurlocks with great abandon.
"Cut behind the ogres!" Corin called out to the men. "Don't let them come at you from the front!" He himself, however, had no compunction about meeting them head on. Eamon, with a breathing space between foes, heard a sharp whistle and a mocking call.
"Here, ugly! Grey Warden here! Come and get me!" One of the ogres turned its horned head in his direction, crouched down and charged. The Prince, instead of doing the sensible thing and running to the side, set his shield and braced for the impact. Eamon cringed in advance.
Should I have argued this course of action? I just assumed that as a Grey Warden, he knew what he was talking about. How am I going to explain to Anora that I let her betrothed get crushed by an ogre?
The two collided, and two Eamon's amazement, Corin did not go down. In fact, he only bounced back a couple of feet. Unfazed, he dodged under the ogre's swinging arm and lashed the creature's knee-caps with the edge of his shield. The ogre reared back and roared its frustration, fists punching skyward. In that moment, Corin took two steps back, ran forward those two steps and leapt straight up, Starfang arcing blue fire as he did so. He plunged the sword into the ogre's chest and the huge darkspawn fell backward, roaring in pain. Riding it down, the Prince pulled the sword from its chest and slammed it into the ogre's skull, twisting the blade. The creature gave one last shudder, then fell back dead.
The other ogre, seeing its companion fall, lumbered forward. The Prince, leaping off the first ogre, did not hesitate, running towards it before it could charge and leaping a second time, just like the first. The end result was the same-a dead ogre and an unscathed Grey Warden.
"Maker!" Eamon exclaimed. A chuckle sounded at his side and he turned to see Teagan, grinning and blood-spattered.
"That's true-you've never seen him fight before, have you?" he said.
"No. I was always too busy politicking in Denerim to watch him spar. I knew he was good, and Alistair as well, but this!"
"Think of what it would have been like to have all the Wardens killed at Ostagar," Teagan said, shaking his head.
"After that little display, I feel happier knowing we've got the four we have at least!" Looking around, Eamon saw that the battle was over. "Let's get on up to the castle, shall we?" he said. "I'm worried about Isolde and Connor."
Corin, walking up, nodded. "There are no darkspawn left here, but there are some more in that direction." His hand gestured up the hill towards the castle. "Not an army's worth, though. This was a diversion, nothing more. Unless the Archdemon is somewhere else out of my sensing range in this region, we'll probably be heading back to Denerim tomorrow."
The diversionary force was charging up to the very doors of the castle when they arrived, but it had been considerably winnowed down by the dwarves and the Dalish archers. The Redcliffe knights were holding their own, but the Prince's company was a welcome addition, particularly when yet another Ogre arrived. This one seemed a tougher, cannier sort. It did not succumb to the Prince's battle-proven ogre strategy, managing to swat him out of the air mid-leap. The combat was taking place in the gatehouse, and the force of its blow threw Corin against the stone wall. He slid down to the base, momentarily stunned and fighting it, struggling to get back to his feet, when suddenly a blast of freezing air caught the ogre and froze it in the act of leaning over to grab him. Eamon spun around to see Morrigan standing there, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her staff smoking in her hand. When he turned back, Corin had somehow regained his feet and finished the ogre off by the more plebian method of shattering its frozen form with repeated shield bashes.
The rest of the darkspawn fell quickly after that, Teagan having zeroed in upon yet another emissary and taking it down with Leliana's and Zevran's help. Helm off, shaking his head a little to clear it, Corin joined the rest of them before the door of the castle.
"Such excellent timing you have, as always," he said to Morrigan with a smile. The witch looked weary, as well she might. Having traveled such a distance, even with wings, must have been a great effort.
"I should not have had to exert myself had you not been showing off," she said shortly. "Riordan says to tell you the Archdemon is with the northern horde."
"Good to have that confirmed. Thank you, Morrigan. Come, let's get you settled-you look tired." Corin fell in beside her and started up the stairs to the keep.
Upon entering the castle, Eamon found himself with an armful of an almost hysterical Isolde. Connor too had been greatly frightened by the darkspawn attack. Corin left the arl to his unenviable task and went upstairs with Morrigan, Leliana, Zevran and Teagan.
"Here, my lady, take this room," the bann told the witch, indicating a pleasant chamber. "I will see about getting a bath drawn for you and some food brought. Did you bring anything else to wear? I can see if there is something available to wear as well and have your things laundered."
"No, I did not. That would be appreciated, my lord," Morrigan said with uncharacteristic politeness. "I thank you." She went into the chamber and closed the door behind her.
"Zevran and I will share a room," Leliana told the bann. "We know that you are probably short of space at present."
Corin cocked an eyebrow at his two rogues. "Oh, it is nothing, Corin!" the bard said. "We are friends. And too tired to get up to something in any event. Besides, Morrigan looked as if she did not wish to share."
"'Too tired to get up to something,'" Zevran muttered. "Speak for yourself, songbird!"
"Well if you want to get up to something, it will have to be with someone else, assassin," Leliana purred. "Besides, didn't you just finish telling me that you were saddle sore and not in a good way?"
"Pain makes things interesting sometimes, nightingale…"
Teagan sighed as they left the bickering duo. "Are they always like this?"
"Most of the time," Corin admitted.
"Then your fortitude is even greater than legend paints it! Here, my lord. The best guest chamber is yours, of course," the bann said, as they paused at a door further down the hall. Corin sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"Thank you, Teagan. A bed and a bath sound delicious right now, but I need to get back up the hill and bring the horses down. They deserve better than to be left tied up there in their saddles after what they did."
Teagan gave him what was for Teagan a stern look. "There are men here who did not ride almost all the way across Ferelden in three and a half days and fight three ogres at the end of it, Your Royal Highness. They can go get the horses. I'll have your things sent for and have the bath drawn immediately. And if you don't mind my saying so, I'd take a health potion before you go to sleep. You got your bell rung pretty well in the gatehouse."
Corin nodded. "That's a good idea. Another good idea is for you to get some rest as well, Teagan. You've been really great throughout all of this, and I appreciate it."
"We were well led, my lord," the bann said, and bowing, left him.
The hot bath was wonderful and did much to soak out the aches and pains of the long ride and battle. Corin took the health potion and afterwards threw on a spare shirt and breeches and took a reasonably peaceful nap, the afternoon sun slanting across his bed while he did so. A growling stomach awoke him, but when he went downstairs, he was in a much better humor for the rest he'd had, more than ready to face Arlessa Isolde and the leaders of his allied armies.
The castle staff, though traumatized by the attack, had recovered swiftly enough. An impressive hot dinner awaited the allies in the main hall, and after the initial polite introductions there was little speech for a while, as the warriors replenished their strength.
Eventually, as the meal was winding down, Corin tapped his knife against his silver goblet to get everyone's attention.
"I cannot tell you how honored I am to have all of you here with me," he said with a smile when silence had fallen and all eyes were upon him. "Keeper Lanaya, Captain Kardol, First Enchanter Irving. Ferelden thanks you and your people for your willingness to come forward in her time of need, and for the effort you made to get down here. Unfortunately, as you may have heard, the Archdemon has given us a bit of a runaround, I suspect by using underground routes, and is marching on Denerim with an army as we speak. If we could get the table cleared, we need to discuss how we might best get north to Denerim as quickly as possible."
Eamon's servants moved to clear the table and Redcliffe knights brought a map forward and unfurled it in the space at the head of the table. Chairs were pushed back, and the commanders gathered around to make their plans.
The planning session ended about ten o'clock that night. Corin spoke privately afterwards with Lanaya, Kardol and Irving, to ascertain any concerns each of them might have had, then wished his followers a good night and headed upstairs to his room. Opening the door, he stopped, frozen, on the threshold. Morrigan stood before the fire. She'd come to dinner in a dress that must have been one of Isolde's, perhaps a style the arlessa no longer favored; old fashioned, with a fuller skirt than was currently fashionable and flowing sleeves in golden velvet. The color set her eyes and black hair off perfectly, and the bodice was snug enough and low-cut enough that her breasts were displayed to great advantage, which had been distracting for several of Eamon's men and some of the younger male mages during the strategy session. Her hair fell loose and sleek upon her shoulders and for once, she'd not put on every piece of jewelry she owned. Only a gold necklace Corin had given her and the bell earrings she'd bought for herself were in evidence. Limned by the firelight, she looked like a high-born lady, but with all of her old, wild allure and the sight rocketed straight to Corin's groin.
But his voice was calm enough as he casually asked, "I'm sorry, am I confused? I thought this was my room."