Part XXIX

Just before sunrise, the dark shadow of a human form could be made out exiting the king's tent. The black silhouette sneaked across to the other side of the camp and quickly ducked inside Captain Dyana's tent. Another dark form arose from Alistair's tent, and stood gazing across the camp at the small tent at the other end. Even though the shadows were pitch black against the pale pre-dawn sky, a dopey grin was clearly visible. That kind of grin that could only say that something new and remarkable was just experienced for the very first time.

"Good morning, Alistair." a sinister voice said from behind the king. He swung around to see Morrigan standing just a few feet away from his tent.

"Morrigan!" the shocked man exclaimed, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see that things between you and the captain seem to be going rather well." the witch replied with a wry smile on her face.

"You can't tell a soul! Please promise you won't tell anyone." Alistair pleaded.

"Why would I ever do such a thing? To do so would only invite more grief into my life. Unlike other woman, I do not spend my time idly gossiping about matters of the heart and other such nonsense. I care not what you and that shrew of yours do with one another, save to say this: 'Tis about bloody time, now we can all stop being bothered with this distraction."

"I know, coming from you, that's a compliment. I didn't know you cared."

"You may believe what you wish."

"Admit it. You're happy for me."

"The only thing I shall admit is that 'tis nearly sunrise and you are to replace Silas at his post. Which was my original reason for being here, so that I may remind you."

"Oh, right. I nearly forgot about that." Alistair said, suddenly remembering. "Where's Dwemer? Why couldn't he tell me?"

"He and Seth are doing something neither of them seems to be able to do well when they're apart: sleeping. Given how rare the occurrence is, 'tis only fair that I allow them to do so as long as possible."

"Sleep. Now there's something I sure could use a great of right about now." Alistair said, his drooping eyes clearly indicating he had been doing something else during the night.

"You've only yourself to blame. Had you been sleeping instead of spending your evening entwined with the captain, you would not have t his problem."

"Some problems are worth having." the king replied with a grin. "I better be getting myself ready to replace Silas. I told him sunrise so he'll be expecting me soon."

"I think that would be wise."

The day dragged on into the afternoon, which eventually gave way to evening. Specks of starlight began to dot the sky overhead until all the twinkling orbs revealed themselves, glistening like diamonds against the darkness. And as the campfire cast its glow over the area, The Warden searched for his witch. There was something he needed to talk with her about. And while, the conversation would most likely spiral downwards into the pits of darkness that only Morrigan could fathom, it was something they had to discuss, nonetheless. Still, however, he was positive he was going to end up regretting it. When he at last found her back at their tent, he grimaced and prepared himself for the worst.

Morrigan knew he would eventually come looking for her and she knew exactly what she would say to him when the time came. After all, he was sure to want to talk to her about staying behind to tend to their son while he and the others invaded the castle. Of course, as there was no one else around who could care for the boy, The Warden's point was generally valid under normal circumstances. Not this time, however. This time she had already prepared an argument of her own as to why she should be allowed to accompany him. If she could prove to him there was indeed way to have both Seth cared for and her to join him, then he would have no choice but to relent and grant her wish. The hard part, though, was being able to provide a convincing argument.

To that end, she devised a truly unique strategy; she would persuade her warden by showing him her latest form. Although she hadn't actually ever taken this new form, she felt relatively confident that she could. Still, it was the best plan she could come up with that would allow her to be with The Warden when he and the others attacked the castle. The pit of her stomach was in knots for fear that if he went into the castle without her, he wouldn't come back out alive.

"Hey," The Warden said as he approached her, "I've been looking for you. I need to talk to you about something."

"Permit me to hazard a guess..." Morrigan began in a knowing tone as she cocked her head slightly, "you wish for me to remain here and care for Seth while you and the others make your assault."

"Oh," he replied, stunned, "I see you've been thinking about it too. So...since we already agree, there's no real point in having this conversation. Which, more than likely, would have ended badly for me."

He smiled weakly and began to turn away, only to be frozen in place by the sound of the witch's "Hold."

"What?"

"I never said I agreed to anything."

"I was afraid of that..." he groaned, "Who else is going to take care of him? We can't take him inside the castle with us and we sure as hell can't leave him out here alone."

"I am aware if that. However, there is another option."

"Why am I not surprised that you would say that?"

"You do know me well, my love." the witch replied with a sly grin, "Do you not remember that I have family in Redcliffe?"

The Warden's face scrunched up in confusion, "You mean Aniel?" he asked. "But Redcliffe is almost two days at full gallop from here. There isn't enough time."

"What if I were to tell you I might have a quicker way?"

"Alright...I'm listening."

"I believe I can take a new form which will drastically reduce the time needed."

"You would have to be able to carry him, so that rules out any birds. So what can you turn into that is faster than a horse yet can still carry Seth?"

"A high dragon." the witch answered as confidently as she could.

"A high dragon? I thought you said you needed to study the beast for long periods of time in order to learn enough about it to assume it's shape. How many dragons have you had the chance to study?"

"Other than those we've battled, none. But I've learned much of those we fought. Also, if you will remember, Flemeth instilled in me blood from a high dragon. I already carry the essence of such a beast inside me. To assume the creature's form should pose little problem."

"Is it safe for you to even try?"

"There is nothing for you to worry about. I shall be in complete control the entire time."

"That doesn't answer my question..."

Morrigan let out a long sigh, "Compared to most things I've come across, my attempts should prove to be relatively safe. However, as with all things, there is some risk, albeit slight." she said, trying to be as reassuring as she could.

"How slight are we talking here?"

"There is a small risk that I could become forever trapped between forms should I fail my attempt and lose control." she explained as she raised her arms and softly placed her hands against his chest, already planning her rebuttal, "However, I shall not lose control and will simply revert back to my human form should I prove unsuccessful." she said, lightly tracing her finger across his chest.

"How sure can you be of that? Can you promise me you won't lose control?"

"I can promise nothing, merely that I..."

"No, you can't promise.." he interrupted, "Why should I let you do this if there's a chance you could be seriously hurt? Maybe if you actually were able to be around more high dragons..."

"Dwemer, please..." she interrupted in turn, "I can do this. You must let me try."

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked.

"I fear nothing." she retorted smugly.

"Like hell you do." The Warden quipped in return, "I can sense what you're feeling, remember? You're scared to death about something, and it has nothing to do with Seth."

"I...I..."

"Morrgan...talk to me."

"I fear for your life." she replied softly, "The battle that lies before you bodes ill for us both. Never before have I had such a feeling of dread. If I am not there at your side to aid you, I fear the worst shall happen. I fear you shall be killed."

"Morrigan..."

"Please, Dwemer. Do not do this to me. Allow me some small sliver of pride." the witch urged, pleading him with her soft golden eyes, "Do not make me beg."

"Alright." The Warden said, sighing deeply, "You win. But I want to be there when you try it."

"Then we are agreed." the witch replied, instantly perking up.

"Oh-Ho!" The Warden cried out, "Look who turned into quite the actress."

"You played me." he grumbled, "Again!"

"No, my love. When it comes to your life; 'tis something even I would beg for." the witch purred, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer to him.

"Well, if you're going to do this, let's see what you've got." he said, looking down at her as he held her in his arms.

"You wish me to try now?" she asked, cocking her head back a bit.

"No one else is around. It seems like as good a time as any."

"I suppose..." Morrigan replied as she thought, "Very well. I shall do as you ask."

The witch checked in all directions to make sure the coast was truly clear of any curious onlookers. While she was confident she would succeed, if by some small chance she was to fail, Morrigan greatly wished that no one see her. Even the presence of The Warden gave her a small knot in her gut.

She always wanted to give off the appearance of elegance, especially to him. But if she found it harder to maintain control than she anticipated, her grace could be compromised for the sake of survival. As her warden would surely say, "You'll end up on your arse, looking like an ass." The witch was terrified of being embarrassed.

Walking away from their tent, Morrigan moved to the center of the clearing. Once she found what she considered to be a suitable spot, she began to ready herself. As still as a statue, she stood there while she controlled her breathing. She drew in long even breaths of air, and calmly exhaled them back out again. When her mind was clear and her focus was centered, the witch slowly raised her arms into the air as a soft glow started to envelope her.

Her outline began to quiver and change. It was growing slowly larger, morphing into something else. The Warden had seen his witch change forms enough to know that this wasn't easy for her. Normally she could shift her shapes in an instant, easily changing from one form to the next. But this was giving her quite a bit of trouble. The light prevented him from seeing her face, but he could still tell his witch was struggling.

The light flickered and danced as Morrigan's shape lengthened. A long tail sprouted from her and grew, slithering outwards. Tiny nubs on her back slowly began to turn into wings, spreading wide and covered in scaled black skin. The Warden watched as the witch's neck stretched upward, and long sharp horns started to protrude from the sides of her head.

It had taken her agonizing minutes to get this far. The form was nearly complete. But no matter how hard the witch willed herself, she couldn't find the strength to fully form. She felt her magic begin to drain away from her, and her outline slowly began to shrink. Try as she might, her grip on the new form was starting to slip, and she was finding it impossible to hold on.

Seeing his witch's struggle, The Warden shouted, "Don't give up! You can do this! You almost got it."

Morrigan heard her warden, and from somewhere deep within, she found the strength to try a bit harder. Digging as deeply as she could, the witch forced herself to throw every ounce of energy she had left into one last surge. There was a yell and a bright flash, accompanied by a wave of energy, that knocked The Warden backwards. He pulled himself back up and brushed the dirt from himself. When the dust finally settled, standing before him was a massive high dragon.

"I knew you could do it." he said, smiling.

The dragon let out a deafening roar while spreading its huge wings and kicked up the dust again with a few good flaps.

"Yeah, right. You say that, but I bet you'll still be impossible to deal with for the next six months. Admit, you're rather pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

The dragon responded with several different grunts and growls.

"Yes. I understand what you're saying perfectly fine. Why wouldn't I?"

The dragon let out a growl and rolled its eyes.

"Oh, right. There is that." he said.

"Dragon!" and excited yell came from someone behind The Warden. He turned to find Alistair standing there with the biggest look of shock of his face, his hand trying to go for his blade but frozen in place by fear.

"Don't." The Warden said to the dragon, "You'll scare the poor man to death. And if you do that, who will you have left to pick on?"

The dragon grunted. It leaned it's long black neck forward. The large dagger-sized teeth hung mere inches from the king's face as the dragon moved in for a closer look. Its breath blew the king's hair back and dried the large beads of sweat that were forming on his brow. The nervous man stood there, panting rapidly. He looked as though he was close to passing out.

"Alright, you've had your fun. Stop scaring him. You're going to have him shitting himself."

The dragon cast a glance back the seemed to indicate that it found the idea appealing.

"Morrigan..."

"Morrigan...?" the terrified king asked.

"Yes, it's Morrigan."

"That's not very damn funny!" Alistair fumed, still shaken, "You could have given me a heart attack. Wait...you'd probably want that..."

The dragon, still greatly pleased with itself, strolled closer to the widest part of the clearing. The beast spread it's wings and cast a look at The Warden. "Stand back, she's going to try to fly." he warned.

"It might be dark, but they can still see you from the castle, so be careful!" he shouted to the creature, who gave a knowing nod in return.

With a mighty flap, the dragon leaped into the air, feverishly beating its wings in an effort to propel itself airborne. Desperately it clambered in vain to remain aloft, but with a loud thud, the beast came crashing back to the ground. The dragon let out a long growl of frustration that made the earth tremble, then readied itself to try again. It gave another mighty heave and pushed itself upward. Its massive wings strained against the air to gain altitude. Dust flew everywhere, forcing The Warden and Alistair to shield their faces as they watched. Finally, the great wings filled with air and dragon pushed its way into the sky.


The three riders, Zevran, Leliana, and one of Arl Eamon's knights, Darren, rounded the last turn in the road before the city of Denerim. Each of them were clad in the black armor of the Order of Bohlen. To the south, Eamon lie hidden behind a ridge, with he and his men ducking low in the tall grass waiting for the elf's signal.

The Order's camp spread out covering nearly all the grassland that rolled peacefully from the forests edge to the shoreline. Hundreds of fire pits dotted the landscape, each surrounded by several small white tents. A thick morning fog hung over the field, making the far edge of the camp difficult to view.

"Now is when the fun begins." the elf said to his companions with that all-too-familiar gleam in his eyes. He kicked his feet into the sides of his horse and raced towards the most important looking tent he could see, followed by the others.

"Arl Eamon comes with his massive army!" the elf shouted as he rode, "Prepare yourselves! He's on his way with more than ten thousand men!"

A man wearing extremely fancy black polished armor stepped out of the important looking tent and held his hand up towards the elf, biding him to halt. "What's all this about?" he asked.

"Arl Eamon's army is only a few miles to the west. He has more than ten thousand men with him."

"Impossible." the important man said, "Eamon barely has more than a thousand men of his own. Where could he have gotten so many?"

"He's spent the passed two weeks gathering his forces. Nearly all of the southern banns sent men. I'm telling you he's riding this way."

"It has taken him a rather long time to get here. Perhaps he has had the time to gather more men. If everything is as you say, what would you suggest I do about it?"

"Send every available man and crush him in the valley to the west, before he can reach the city. I think that would be the most obvious choice."

"You heard him!" the man shouted to the other, less important people gathering around him. "I want every last man to be ready in five minutes. If we can get to him before he gets out of the valley, we'll have the higher ground as well as superior numbers. They won't stand a chance."

"You'll lead us into battle." the important mad said, pointing directly at the elf, "Meet me at the head of the formation."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Zevran replied, grinning slyly.

Soon, every last soldier in the camp was assembled and formed into columns, ready to march. The three "messengers" found their place at the head of the formation next to the important general, who raised his hand high into the air, and quickly dropped it, giving the order to begin.

The army moved out, marching at a rapid pace in order to confront the perceived threat. Thick clouds of dust were churned up as beast and man rushed off to battle. Both the bard and the knight looked over at the elf, showing him their looks of great concern.

Zevran merely shrugged his shoulders, saying, "There is nothing to worry about, my friends. Everything is going exactly as I planned."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." Leliana replied.

The trio accompanied the important general and his army as they marched down the road, around the turn, and out of sight. In just a few moments, what was once a bustling camp filled with more than twelve thousand men, was now barren, except for a few lonesome souls left behind to tend to the camp.

"I'll be damned." the arl said, flabbergasted, "The elf actually did it."

Eamon was perched atop a ridge that rose just to the southwest of the city. He and his men arrived at their spot the night before under the cover of darkness. They were all crouched in the high grass that covered the meadow which stretched out to the forest's edge.

The arl turned back to face his men and began to bark out orders, "Everyone! On your feet!" he shouted, "Let's move! Quickly now!"

All the men jumped up, and the steeds were allowed to rise from the ground. There was a mad scramble as men raced everywhere in order to get into position. Once they were in formation, the arl gave the order to move out.

They hurried up and over the ridge with the mounted soldiers leading the way. The foot soldiers quickly marched in unison to the rear. The men remaining in the order's camp looked on in bewilderment. If some of them did actually realize what was happening, they made no sign of it. Most likely because they knew the pitiful handful of soldiers remaining in the camp would do nothing against so many men.

The men guarding the city gates also saw the army that approached. One by one, the sentries recognized the arl at the front of the column. Shouts started to ring out all along the city wall. "It's Arl Eamon and his army!" they shouted, "We're Saved!"

The mighty gate creaked loudly as it slowly opened to allow the arl and his men passage into the city. The men in the towers on top turned the wheels as hard as the could, trying desperately to hurry the process along. Eamon sat patiently on his horse as he watched the doors spread wider apart. At last, a loud clanging thud indicated the gate was fully open. Eamon gestured to the soldiers behind him and they began to march into the city. The Order's members gathered at the edge of their camp to observe what was happening, some of them clearly upset by the sudden appearance of the arl and his men. They stood watching in disbelief as the last of the arls knights passed into the city and the mighty gate swung closed behind them.

"Where is Teyrn Fergus?" Eamon shouted to the first guard he laid eyes on.

The man's face turned into a strong frown upon hearing the name, "He's...he's been killed, my lord." he replied. "Bann Teagan has taken command. You can find him at the royal palace."

"The teyrn was killed? How did this happen?"

"There was a battle. The teyrn saved the city..." the man said, drifting off to a place he didn't want to remember. "I think it's best if I let the bann brief you further, my lord."

"I agree." the arl said, giving a knowing nod.

"Will there be anything else, my lord?"

"No, that will be all. I can find my own way to the palace."

The arl led his men through the city's streets, winding their way past the outskirts of the alienage and just to the south of the Market Distict, where the royal palace lay. Upon seeing Eamon, the guards posted throughout the city had reactions of shock and disbelief, which were quickly replaced with a look of hope and relief; things that no one in Denerim had had for quite some time. With the arl's arrival and the reinforcements that he brought, they would surely be able to stand against anything the Order threw at them, the soldiers believed.

Bann Teagan greeted his brother personally when he arrived at the palace. A runner had already made it to the palace to inform the bann that Eamon was on his way and Teagan was standing outside the main door when the arl and his men filed into the palace gates. The arl gave Teagan's hand a hearty shake, which were accompanied by a few pats on the shoulder.

"It's good to see you, Teagan. It's good to know the Maker still watches over you."

"And you as well, brother. Although I wish our reunion was under better circumstances. That was some ruse of yours, leading their entire army off like that. How did you ever manage to do that?" the bann replied as the two men walked through the open doors and into the palace.

"That is something I cannot take credit for. It was a scheme concocted by one of The Warden's companions. The elf. I only pray that he and the other two can make it back safely as well."

"The Warden does seem to keep rather unusual company."

"Indeed he does, but each of them is courageous in their own right. I was told Teyrn Fergus has been killed. Is that so?"

"Not entirely. He does live, but just barely." Teagan answered while the two men walked through the corridors towards the study, "He was gravely wounded in battle. If it wasn't for his actions, none of us would be here. We owe him our lives."

"He was wounded? What is his condition now?"

"Not good, I'm afraid." the bann sighed, "The arrow that hit him went deep and caused a great deal of damage. While he is alive, it's only a matter of time before he loses his struggle and the Maker claims him."

"How long?"

"Hours, maybe. A day or two at most."

"Why did that man tell me the teyrn was already dead?" Eamon asked.

"We've been trying to lure enemy agents out into the open. By telling everyone the teyrn was dead, we gave them information we knew they'd want and would have to get to the army outside. That way, we were able to track some of these agents to their source. Also, it serves as a rallying cry for the people. In case you haven't noticed, Denerim is a city without hope. If the people think the teyrn's already dead, they'll be more determined than ever to fight against the Order; out of anger if for no other reason. These people are so depressed and miserable, that's all I have left to work with."

"I see." the arl said. "It is unfortunate that things have some to this."

"You mentioned the elf, where is The Warden? Why isn't he with you?"

"He and Alistair chose to stay in Highever. He believes he can stop the trouble at its source. But if he should happen to fail, we need to prepare Denerim to face a nightmare worse than any it has ever seen before."