This chapter refused to be written until I gave up on the Deep Roads and moved beyond it. I'm sorry about this, as I was truly looking forward to writing it, but Writer's block is a fickle bitch.
Bioware owns all things Dragon Age, I just like playing with their creations.
Broodmother...
Even days after crowning Bhelen the next king and returning to a thawing Ferelden, it's still difficult to wrap my mind around the grotesque breeding machine that was once a dwarven woman named Laryn. If I had not seen her, had not heard the corrupted Hespith's twisted and heartbreaking tale, I may not have killed Oghren's wife and destroyed the Anvil. Branka's unwavering obsession with Caridin's masterpiece had destroyed so many innocents though and in my head, if only for a heartbeat, there was a greater evil in this world than the Archdemon.
It wasn't until after we had the crown in hand and were marching back to the dwarven city that much darker thoughts began to invade.
Is this why there are so few female Wardens? Is it our fate to slowly evolve into broodmothers as our taint progresses? Does the same corruption that prevents us from procreating as Wardens make us better incubators when-if- we turn? If so, it's no wonder Duncan was reluctant to share the history of his order with me.
These same thoughts are exactly what prompted me to extract a promise out of my husband. A solemn vow to end my life should I start showing signs of advanced corruption. I'd rather be dead than some sick creator of darkspawn progeny. Fighting back a shudder, I lift my head from my knees and seek out Alistair as he, Sten, and Oghren practice, each of the trio sharing the techniques of their preferred fighting style.
I can't help but admire his physique as he swings his borrowed great sword in a graceful arc, miming the Qunari's movement. A year ago he was in amazing shape but now, with muscles hardened from our near daily battles and the last roundness betraying his boyhood as a chubby child matured into the more chiseled form I am familiar with, Andraste herself would have trouble finding fault with my god of war.
A smile creeps across my lips as he brushes his hair back from his face, the tips of his honeyed locks brushing his broad shoulders. He had started growing it out in an effort to distance himself from the description Loghain had given every bandit and cutthroat in his employ, but seemed to genuinely enjoy the new style once he realized my affinity for running my fingers though it at night after we made love.
My lover's tunic strings slip loose when he bows to Sten and the griffon tattoo he'd gotten over his heart in Orzammar peeks out. Instinctively I drop a hand to my left calf and touch its mate, my grin widening. The motions are not lost on Alistair, who beams his trademark smile and comes strolling over after excusing himself from the other warriors. "Copper for your thoughts my love?" he asks as he eases himself to the ground beside me.
"Just going over the past few months in my head and trying to decide what to do next," I weakly evade, well aware that we'd spent almost two months trapped underground so the subjects dominating my thoughts are quite limited.
"I won't let Eamon talk me into making a bid for the crown," he answers, betraying what has been plaguing him for the last week, "Our fight against the Archdemon is too important to just give up and rule a country over."
"I know dear," I assuage my beloved as I wrap my cloak around him and snuggle into his side, "But remember that we-"
"That we know nothing of his little plan," he finishes for me, "Geez, my memory isn't that bad yet Lex. So now that we have my errant troubles out of the way, what has you chewing your lip to pieces? Did Wynne say something to you again?"
The senior enchanter and I hadn't been on speaking terms since the first night we'd been back on the surface, the entire debacle attributed to her imbibing too much wine then deciding to spend two hours lecturing me about my relationship with Alistair and how it might be better to end our dalliance now before things grew much more complicated. My self control had failed me amidst her high and mighty attitude and I'd retaliated by snatching my ring from its resting place then shoving it in her face while screaming about how I'd doubted things could be any more complicated between my husband and I since we were in the middle of a Blight and trying to stop an Archdemon from taking over Thedas. She'd spit in my face and shrieked that I was nothing but a spoiled, selfish child who had only chained Alistair to me because I thought it was the fastest way to get back my easy life now that my family was dead.
Sten's arm is still healing where he barely managed to deflect the dagger I'd thrown at her.
"No, she hasn't said anything, at least to me," I qualify, my fingers tracing the edges of his wedding band, "But she is still giving me the evil eye whenever she sees me looking her way."
For a few moments he simply watches me, then the glint in his eyes turns mischievous, "Well, I could always give her a legitimate reason to glare by kissing you senseless out here in front of her."
A chuckle escapes me as he bends down and starts nuzzling my neck, "What happened to that adorably innocent Chantry boy I met so long ago?"
"He discovered how much fun being naughty can be," the former Templar smirks, drawing back and pulling both of us to our feet, "But I'm fairly sure that I could dig him up for you though, if you're feeling nostalgic."
"I'd rather resume our discussion on lamppost licking techniques and then try out the ones that still make you blush," I purr, suddenly wanting to do nothing but drag him back to our tent and have my way with him.
His hazel eyes darken with lust and I feel his strong hands clamp down on my hips, "Maker's breath, I am a lucky man. You know, we still have a few hours before dinner, we could-"
"Blasted flea bitten canine! How many times do I have to tell you that I've no interest in your slobbery so called gifts?" Morrigan trills from across camp, puncturing our amorous bubble in the process, "Alexa, kindly retrieve your mongrel before I turn him into something useful...like a rug!"
Alistair gives me one last kiss, then relinquishes his hold on me, "Go and save Morrigan from whatever half chewed rodent Havoc gave her this time, but we will be continuing this discussion this later."
"Maybe you ought to inform Zev and Leli that it's their turn to cook dinner then so they can get a head start on it, that will give us even more time tonight," I brazenly suggest, then jog across the encampment to find my four legged best friend cowering before the irate swamp witch.
Upon seeing me, Morrigan jabs a finger at a lump of damp fur laying outside of her shelter, "That mangy beast put a masticated rabbit in my underclothes, tell him that I do not want it, since he refuses to listen to me."
"Aw Morri, don't be like that. He just wanted to give you a gift," I say with a perfectly straight face while Havoc buries his blocky head in my side and emits a mournful whine, "See, you're hurting his feelings by rejecting it."
"Oh no I'm not," the dark haired mage counters, but the amusement lacing her voice neutralizes her stern visage, "He's just being manipulative. I should know, I do it too. Besides, if he was serious about impressing me, he would have brought back a fat deer for us to dine on instead of a single scrawny jackrabbit."
At her statement, the war hound leaps to his feet and charges headlong into the underbrush, intent on fetching the wild woman her desired prize. I wait until his stubby tail is long out of sight before grinning at her. "Well played. That was completely underhanded, mind you, but I have to give credit where credit is due."
"Mayhap, but it keeps him busy and saves us from another night of trail rations or your husband's dreadful rabbit stew," she shrugs one thin shoulder as her amber gaze grows thoughtful, "Perhaps you could reward his efforts with some of the bones after we're done stripping the meat."
"So much for your cold hearted bitch routine," I laugh, then have to dodge a half-hearted slap, "Don't worry, I won't tell Alistair that you have something other than a yawning black pit for a soul."
She allows herself the smallest of grins before motioning for me to follow her into her tent. All humor is cast aside though, when she lays a hand on her mother's book, "I've finally finished reading it, and I must confess that it is not what I thought."
"So Flemeth really does bathe in the blood of children and slow roast her lovers before eating them? I thought we knew that part already," I jest, but reach out and take her hand as the woman's face pales, "What did you find? It must be epic if it's disturbing even you."
Morrigan doesn't reply immediately, instead choosing to brew us a cup of tea and serves it with trembling hands before answering. As we sip our tea, she explains to me her mother's unnatural method of extending her lifespan via possessing the body of her current "daughter" when the girl reaches the pinnacle of her powers. The apostate then admits that in the journal, she found references to spells that involved Grey Wardens and/or their blood, but cannot piece together what they could be with the volume she has at her disposal.
"I think mother wanted me to accompany you and Alistair in order to gain your trust so when-" her head dips and yet I still notice a few drops of liquid roll down her face, "So when it came time to possess me, it would be easier for her to execute whatever plans she has. I am so sorry Alexa, you must know that I never intended to betray your trust like this, the one person in the world I can, and do, call friend. It is because of this attachment though that I will be leaving on the morrow to go and confront her."
The witch's proclamation makes the hair on my neck stand on end. "No! You cannot hope to defeat her and walk away unscathed, do you? If that abomination learns that you have even an inkling of what she intends, what is to keep her from taking you over then and there?"
"I have little choice in this matter Alexa," Morrigan's voice hardens as she straightens herself and lifts her eyes back to mine, "I do not expect you to give me an iota of trust after what I have revealed to you, let alone any aid. I may be unworthy of it in light of recent events, but your friendship means a great deal to me, so I will amend this problem myself. But I swear to you here and now that if I cannot defeat her, I will find a way to destroy us both before she can overtake me."
"No Morrigan. You have such a convoluted idea of what being a family is," I shake my head in sympathy and grab her hand, "You will not do this alone. We will find a way to free you and we will do it together."
"Family, you say?" one dainty eyebrow lifts in question before she grins, "Fine, I shall acquiesce to becoming one more sister that follows you around, but do not expect me to claim any familial connection to that uncouth lout you insisted on shackling yourself to."
"I wouldn't dream of it," I snicker and get to my feet, "You do know that this means you will be part of the excursion following Levi to Soldier's Peak after we meet with Eamon, yes? Whichever way any of this pans out, I want you as far away from that nutty old bat as I can get you when it comes time to deal with her."
"A wise maneuver, I can see the logic. Spoken like a true leader as well," I'm surprised at her unexpected concession, I was readying myself for a long, drawn out argument, "Are you still so dead set against you and your fellow Warden taking the throne? It seems to me that Ferelden might be better off with someone like you leading it."
I roll my eyes and push back the canvas flap separating us from outside, "Positive. Ali would be able to bankrupt the entire kingdom in a year's time simply by indulging in his unholy obsession with cheese."
"Good point," she giggles, yes giggles, as I step out into the evening air.
The damn thing wanted to end here and I'm too fed up to fight it right now, sorry if I disappoint.