No Inquisition spoilers this time! Author's notes at the end. Enjoy!
"I told you, I'm alright. Stop asking."
"You're not alright." Alistair stared me down as I concentrated on stuffing my bedroll into my pack, perhaps a little more forcefully than usual. After our run-in with bandits and subsequently, the rogue delivery elf, I had told my traveling companions just enough to quell their curiosity of what had passed between Zevran and I while they were gone. They weren't idiots; they knew I was holding back. But they also knew from my darkened demeanor that more information wouldn't be forthcoming, so they reluctantly let the matter drop. That didn't keep Alistair from poking and prodding me every chance he got, however, and I really wasn't in the mood.
"What do I have to do to convince you? I'm fine." Yanking the drawstrings closed, I slung my pack across my shoulder and swiftly strode toward the grey stallion I had cheekily named Tonto, securing it to his saddle. Ever since our run-in with bandits, Leliana insisted she be allowed to scout ahead before we pressed on. As if testing my heightened annoyance even after I had impressed upon her how anxious I was to set off toward the Normandy, she had been gone for nearly an hour. The sunrise was beginning to cast a rosy flush across the feathery clouds hanging like wisps in the sky, and the morning air snapped with cold. I used my sense of urgency as an excuse, but I knew Alistair wasn't buying it; I could still feel his gaze boring into me with every staccato-like movement I made. As my mind concentrated on tightening the straps, I felt a hand on my elbow and I yanked it away gruffly. "Alistair, I'm warning you. Drop it."
He stood his ground, stubbornness showing in the set of his jaw. "I seem to remember a time when I was wallowing in misery after finding out all of my friends had been murdered, and realizing that Theresa and I were the only Grey Wardens left. There was a certain someone that sought me out and wouldn't leave me be until she uprooted that bitterness from within me. In fact, I do believe she hovered over me, despite my urging her to 'drop it', until I nearly ran her through."
Don't tempt me, I wanted to mutter, but I bit my tongue.
"I hate to admit it, but I'm glad she pushed me to almost stab her and then weep uncontrollably like a little girl. It helped. A lot." I continued faux-packing in silence and walked toward Lucy to fidget with her tack. Of course, he followed. "Perhaps the difference is that I don't come bearing soup and ale?"
Maybe if I ignore him, he'll eventually leave me alone.
He cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. "Look, I'm your friend, and I want to help if I can. The almighty Commander Shepard is allowed to have friends in which she confides, right?"
God, he's not going to leave me alone.
I pursed my lips and shot him my most potent glare. "You want to know what's bothering me, Alistair?" Besides the fact that one of my closest friends has been turned into a raving lunatic of a werewolf, my ship has been sabotaged by a different kind of raving lunatic that is probably bent on screwing all of us over, and I can't feel Justice anymore and that scares the shit out of me?
His eyes softened with tenderness as he began to reach for my hand but after a moment, thought better of it. "Yes. I really want to know."
My emotions were ebbing from anger to frustration and back again. Ever since I had received the Illusive Man's message and spoken with my crew, my mind was swirling with every possible move my adversary could make that I wouldn't be able to counter. It consumed my every waking moment, and without Justice's power, I felt like a very real part of myself was missing. It was like groping in the dark and feeling nothingness swallowing me whole from all sides. Where had my Spirit gone? Had something happened to him in the Fade? Was the Illusive Man involved?
If only Alistair knew how easy it would be for me to spill all of my fears at his feet. But I couldn't; my biggest fear of all was that he might move to encircle me in his arms as I did for him after Ostegar, and I couldn't trust myself to stand against his comfort, not after what happened in the stables only two nights before. He and I could be friends, but never close. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
Still, there was something I had withheld from him, something important, and it had been gnawing at the back of my mind, justification slowly churning into guilt. The one thing he felt he needed, I knew how to find. And as I stood there, unsure of what to do or say, I resigned myself to telling him now instead of later. I wouldn't be able to hide it from him forever, and I selfishly thought that maybe, just maybe, if I gave him this, he would somehow understand. While most of me wanted him to accept what I was about to say, a small part wanted him to push me away. His resentment would feel like a splinter in my heart, but it would ultimately make my life so much easier.
Looking to the sky as if searching for words written there to begin to explain, I rested my forearms against Lucy's shoulder and cast my eyes to the ground instead. "Okay. Here it is. As of yesterday, I have the location of Andraste's ashes. Don't ask how."
"Wait, what?" His eyes lit up with a mingling of relief and surprise. "But how...okay fine, nevermind how. But this is incredible news! You don't realize what this means. Shepard, those ashes are likely the only thing that will heal Arl Eamon and gain his support. We can call back the knight of Redcliffe and have them defending the city again, as they should be."
"I know, Alistair. But I also know it's a trap. If I give you the location, you'll go looking and be taken or killed by whatever is intended for me. If I don't give it to you, I know you'll resent me for it." The look of incredulity that he gave me made my heart constrict in my chest, but I held firm. "But that's a price I'm willing to pay. I told you because I respect you. But you don't know everything at play. It's too much of a risk, and we're not going there. Period."
He shook his head and I could see he was mentally digging in his heels. "Then explain what's really going on so we can decide together. With those ashes, we could turn the tide of the war. Show me the location and I can tell you the risks. I know this land. We can form a strategy..."
"I said no!" I yelled more fiercely than I intended, the echo of my voice was accompanied by the flapping of wings and startled crow caws in the distance. Lucy's hooves raked the dirt nervously, and each breath we drew together in silence crushed me a little bit more until I couldn't stand looking him in the eye any longer.
His nostrils flared in indignation as he matched my tone. "You say you respect me, but your actions tell me you don't. Otherwise, you'd show me where those ashes are if we decided...we...that it was too dangerous, you would trust that I wouldn't defy that decision to find them on my own!"
"Save it, Alistair!" I snapped. "If I give you those coordinates, you'd leave with or without my approval. I know because I'd do the same damn thing in your position."
"Not everyone is like you!" he rebutted, throwing his hands into the air.
"But you are!" I barked back. "Eager to do the right thing even if it's not the smart thing. Willing to risk your life for someone you love. Well I'm not going to let you make that choice," I said through clenched teeth, my tone beginning to waver. "You're not dying on my watch. I won't risk losing you by giving you the location of those ashes. You're too important to me. I'm sorry."
His voice went low, sharper than any two-edged sword. "But not important enough to tell me the whole truth?"
When I turned to stab him with my eyes once again, I expected to see the same snide glare reflected back. Instead, an indecipherable expression had settled onto his face, his intense gaze never leaving me, and I realized he was posing a serious question. I was silenced by his eyes flitting back and forth to search each of mine, wanting confirmation of what he must already know. It took all of my willpower to stand against the urge to pull him toward me and confess it all.
"If you don't trust me to make wise decisions and give valuable insights toward our...my...cause to end this war, then what am I doing here with you?"
I took a step back, abashed. "Alistair, I told you because I do trust you." The words sounded hypocritical even as I said them. My wounded gaze matched the plea in my voice. "You know how much you mean to me. After everything we've been through together..."
Before I could finish, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to see Leliana emerging from the narrow trail leading into the heart of the woods. Her smile vanished at the sight of us, replaced by an anxiousness in her posture. "The coast is clear, as far as I can tell. No bandit tracks."
"Then let's move," Alistair grumbled as he stepped away from me toward his own mount, who was busy grazing a bare patch of brown grass. "We've wasted enough time already."
...I trust you most of all, but I need you to trust me, too, I wanted to exclaim. My chest throbbed as I watched him walk away. The splinter embedded anew felt more excruciating than I had expected.
Morrigan stood over the mindless beast while deep in thought, remembering how the woman known as Chakwas, quick, confident, sure, had run past them, retrieved a strange, silver tube, forced it against his neck, and tossed it away with a clatter. It was the most potent sleeping potion the mage had ever encountered, yet another mystery to add to a very long list in her mind. Afterwards, her face must have betrayed her wonderment, for Chakwas gifted her a silver tube for her very own along with instructions on how to use it. A 'tranquilizer', she called it. "You only get one shot," she had cautioned, her eyes stern. "Don't waste it."
A curse unbroken. A ship from another world. Strange magic called 'technology'. But the ring was the most personal enigma of all. A trap. Why would her mother give her such a thing? To what end? That is what she was driven to discover. Why she had volunteered to aid this strange group of humans and...whatever other species accompanied them...was not entirely altruistic. She needed an excuse to leave, to return to her mother's hut. She had questions, and this time, she would make her mother answer them. The mage stared down at the puzzle of a man before her, her mind decided. "I must go," she said to no one in particular. "Dawn is a trivial time to wait for."
"Don't you want to stay until the others get out of that room?" Theresa questioned from a nearby chair. "They aren't trivial to wait for."
Two retorts - why? and aren't they? - immediately came to her mind, but she held her tongue before her thoughts manifested themselves into words. "The sooner I find Solas, the sooner this...man...will be relieved of his suffering. Surely they will understand that." Without meeting the elf's slack-jawed surprise and narrow-eyed disapproval, she turned and walked purposefully from the medical bay toward the table upon which the communication device still rested. Snatching it in her hand, she intended to head straight for the elevator until a certain tiny elf suddenly stood like a wall between her and the exit.
"I know these woods better than anyone. Let me help. At least until you get to the boundary. It's too dangerous to go alone."
Morrigan let out a grunt of disgust. "I have lived in these woods all my life, and I do not need your help," she spat in return. Laying a hand on Theresa's shoulder, she gave it a gentle shove to move her out of the way and resumed her steady stride.
"This isn't what we agreed to, Morrigan," Theresa stated as she slipped through the elevator doors before the mage could figure out how to close them fast enough. "We haven't finalized all the details yet."
"I am not a part of your little friendship circle, I was only your guide," to which Theresa wrinkled her nose, "and now my task is done. Am I now your prisoner?"
"Not if I have to be your guard," the elf muttered, and the doors finally opened, much to Morrigan's relief. She held the Warden's shoulders at arm's length to prevent her from following, as though she were a street urchin begging for coin. "Be a good girl and stay put, tell the others that I have left."
Theresa crossed her arms over her chest with a glower. "But where are you going?"
"That is no one's concern but mine. I will alert you as soon as I have discovered Solas' whereabouts," Morrigan replied with an unsettling smile before turning on her heel and leaving the elf behind. Truthfully, she felt no ill will toward any of them, especially Theresa. But where she was going, no one could follow, at least not without running straight into the darkspawn horde. She stepped out of the Normandy and onto the trampled grass, casting a glance over her shoulder. The night was still thick and the twin moons mere slivers in the sky, perfect to fly by. After the trees were able to conceal her completely, she unsheathed her staff and began to chant.
Her form seemed to melt into a silver pool, and from it emerged an eagle blacker than night, golden eyes piercing through the darkness with perfect clarity. The steady wind blowing from the east was her magic carpet, the night her ally. Without the trappings of walking on two feet, she could fly above the treetops and arrive at her mother's doorstep in mere hours instead of days. Then she would begin to gather answers.
As she soared above the forest, she could see the clear path made by the Normandy's crash landing, the ship now looking like nothing so much as a child's plaything below her. The chill breeze lifted her outstretched wings ever onward to the west, back the way they had come, back toward her home. It was quiet up in the air alone, something that Morrigan used to relish. Now, she was surprised to feel an odd pang, ever so slight, that she inwardly scoffed at. I can't possibly miss their company, she chided. But perhaps after spending so many years with no one but Flemeth, the occasional idiot Templar, and the forest animals, she had been starved for knowledge of what lay beyond, and the Normandy and its crew were as 'beyond' as she was ever likely to get.
Her inner musings made the hours pass by quickly, and soon she recognized the pattern of the trees and glades as her own. Leaves had turned from a vivid green to a dull brown, and many of them now rested on the forest floor. The land crawled with pockets of darkspawn as they ravaged even their own dead. Winter was fast approaching, and the Wilds would soon be blanketed in white to temporarily cover the horror that had consumed them. Ostegar loomed to the north, and though she was tempted to return there and see the destruction for herself, confronting her mother came first.
To anyone that would have been looking, it would have appeared as another grove of trees like any other. Morrigan knew better. Settling to the ground, she preened her feathers and bowed low, the molten metallic shimmer covering her plumage, growing into the shape of a woman crouched over her knees. Slowly stretching her limbs, she shrugged off the feeling of her eagle form to once again stand in her own body as her flesh shivered in response to the cold. As easily as if she were walking through a sheer curtain, she strode purposefully through the glade toward a knotted pine and vanished straight through the bark to suddenly stand on the outskirts of her home.
The air was still, the sounds muted as she crossed the barrier between what was real and what was illusion. Flemeth's hut was hidden safely behind a wall of protection, and only those who knew where to look and had the magical skill necessary to break its seal would be able to find it.
Her conviction and courage had blossomed while she flew as she imagined everything she would say, standing tall, her arms crossed in displeasure with her mother eager to explain herself, but now that she was moments away from the confrontation, a feeling akin to ice in her spine began to spread to her legs; she knew her mother's power, and she was no match for her. The only answers Flemeth would give were the ones that would further her own ends, and Morrigan hoped that would be enough. Each step felt wooden as she forced herself to march to the front door before her, and her hand began to shake as she grasped the knob.
She pushed, and the familiar creak of the hinges brought her only a small amount of comfort. Heat from the fireplace hit her face as she stood, paralyzed, in the narrow door frame. Her mother wasn't home. But the room was occupied.
A slender figure had his back to her, and he lifted his head without turning in her direction. His sharp-tipped ears and bald pate cast a morbid shadow against the far wall as if he were a demon coming to claim a soul. Across his back was a staff that Morrigan recognized; one of her earliest memories as a child contained it. Without even trying, she had stumbled upon the one she was tasked to find: Solas. What is he doing here, and where is Flemeth?
Before she had time to wonder further, she realized that his staff wasn't the only thing she recognized. Her mind reeled in confusion, her lungs were arrested from drawing breath, and her feet were frozen to the threshold. Stretched out on a wooden table before the elven apostate was a corpse that had been dead for weeks judging by the smell. From where she stood, she could plainly see the cause of death - a gaping wound ripped through his temple, and the shadows revealed that a portion of his head was missing entirely. His ghoulishly grey palor only accentuated his unnatural steel-blue eyes, wide open to stare unblinking at the ceiling. Her thoughts flashed back to the Fade where she had seen Anderson and Shepard fighting against a cruel and powerful enemy with the same distinct irises, the man Anderson had killed over and over again in his dreams.
Only this wasn't a dream.
Okay, this is a DA Inquisition spoiler free chapter, but if you skipped the last chapter due to spoilers, this one is going to be a tad confusing. SO...if you've beaten Inquisition by now, or you don't mind some spoilerage, you can read the last chapter and then circle on back.
Angst. I gots it. I know, more Alishep, but it was a necessary conversation for important reasons. That you'll find out. Later. Promise.
Annnnnd regarding the very end of the chapter...wait WHAT? WHO? HOW?!
Don't worry, I have this all mapped out so I don't paint myself into a corner. Would hate to do that to myself and to you, dear reader.
Also, I know I'm starting to slip on schedule. I'm sorry about that; my postings are going to be on random days for a while until I get a few 'real-life' projects off my plate. Thank you for your patience, your loyalty, your encouragement, and your understanding. I love you all!