Part 5: Leaders

Chapter 36: Progress

Aedan tightened the leather overcoat and shivered. The snow assaulted his face and the tip of his nose stung. The man sniffled. Cold misty drops dripped down his face. Aedan wiped them off against his sleeve. He grimaced: the stubble on his face didn't mesh well with the rough texture of the leather. Aedan needed to shave.

The cold reminded him of Highever. Winter nights in the castle had been harsh for everyone. His parents made sure to stay well stocked in furs and leathers for everyone, including the live-in servants. Ferelden was a cold country already, so being up north in Highever meant that they always had to be prepared.

Soldier's Peak was no different. Aedan stood at the edge of Avernus's tower, overlooking his new conquest. A merchant, Levi Dryden, had informed to the presence of the fortress. It had once belonged to the Grey Wardens before they had been exiled from Ferelden, and had been lost ever since. Aedan had been skeptical of Levi's claims, but the gamble had paid off. After a tangle with undead and an unsavory demon, the whole fortress was Aedan's. He hoped to make this a base of operations; while he and his companions were always mobile, there was constant need of influx for information regarding the war efforts. Loghain's civil war still raged and Aedan needed any possible leverage against the man he could get: troop movements, insider information, allies he could call upon.

Granted, Aedan did not plan to join into the fray of the civil war. His goal was to minimize the damage as much as he could, so that Ferelden would be as prepared as possible for the assault upon the Archdemon. Levi would outpost himself here, and in addition to trying to bring some business back to the area, he would see fit to serve as a mailpost for all of Aedan's current allies.

From a distance, Aedan watched as Levi shooed some of his kids inside of the fortress. They had been playing catch outside, but the snow had begun to pick up. Shivering, Aedan headed back inside. The rest of the group save for Alistair had departed back down; none of them were too fond of the cold, especially Morrigan. Aedan made a mental note to remind her to wear more layers. He also made a mental note to keep Alistair at arms length, as the templar had wandered off to explore the deeps of the castle; finding him would be a pain. The insides of the keep, filled with dust and old skeletons, had proven enough of a labyrinth to the group already.

Aedan had one last piece of business to take care of, however: Avernus. He had not seen fit to chain the man up. Aedan had precious little allies as it was, and although the man had consorted with demons, he seemed sane enough, almost like Zathrian. Avernus had eased himself into an old wooden rocking chair and let himself relax in its comfort. "Tis good to see some young blood here. Now with that pesky demon out of the way, I can finally relax...although it seems you have something else on your mind. Business then."

Avernus referred to the small vial Aedan grasped in hand, filled with a dark shadowy liquid. Something swirled inside it and bubbled against the glass. In his other hand, Aedan held a stack of ancient notes, which he presented to Avernus.

"Explain to me this...abomination. I avoided bringing it up in front of Alistair, but when I read through your research notes-" Aedan's teeth ground against one another. The sight of Avernus just sitting there casually and flipping through the papers, unnerved Aedan. "You killed fellow wardens."

Avernus narrowed his eyes at Aedan and scrutinized him. Anger painted Aedan's face, yet he did not lash out violently, nor dissolve into a puddle of rage. The rage bubbled beneath the surface, chained by Aedan's self control. Avernus stroked the arm of the chair and peered at the blood spots on the walls.

"A few lives to save thousands, even millions. Blood magic is a powerful tool. I have long resisted the effects of the taint, and even old age, by its means. But do not be mistakened, it is a dangerous tool, one that we resorted to because we had no other choice."

A sinister smile crept across Avernus's face, one that Aedan did not like. "But what if we had another choice? This taint in our blood...it is such a crude ritual. We ingest the poison of the darkspawn and even the Archdemon, to gain simple immunity. Yet there is power in there. This concoction of mine purifies the taint while keeping its power intact, such that the one who drinks it gains complete mastery over it."

With his thin, bone-like finger Avernus pointed at the vial within Aedan's hand.

"My research...my life's work. Two hundred years of experimentation, of countless sacrifices. I completed it about a year ago. Countless trials and lives finally gave me one, perfect distilled solution. I doubt I will ever be able to make it again without sufficient...sacrifices. Now that you have forbade me from doing so, this will be the last one ever made, and I have been waiting for a warden such as yourself to come and take it."

Aedan scoffed. "Such as myself? You think I'm another test subject?"

Despite Aedan's glare, Avernus gave a hearty laugh, "You're no simple warden ensign. You're a leader- someone who can truly use this power to it's fullest potential."

"I lead a small group of well-trained experts. Hardly world shaking."

"Oh ho ho, but no doubt the world will tremble at your steps. You have a certain charisma about you, perhaps fostered through an extensive life in court, and the shadowy ones out of court. The different races do not seem to concern you; I saw no preference between the elf, qunari, or humans. I've met many a Orlesian Warden with a bloated ego that would scoff at us Fereldans, and many a Fereldan Warden who'd do the same to an Orlesian."

Avernus sat up and paced the room. He circled the remnants of what had once been his study; demons and skeletons had scattered the books and vials. Aedan stood and the center, he felt as though that as Avernus circled around him the old man peered into his soul. He had already surmised enough about Aedan's former noble life, and that was only from knowing him for about an hour. From the corner of his eyes, Aedan maintained his view on Avernus.

"That silver-tongue of yours and those wolf-like eyes. Even as we speak, you're scanning me right now. Always wary."

Those eyes that Avernus had mentioned still maintained their cold gaze. Aedan continued to listen though as Avernus circled the room, like a vulture stalking it's prey. The young warden wasn't sure if Avernus was going to try anything. He drummed his fingers against his hilt just in case.

"People are drawn to you, like a moth to the flames, because you have the nature of hero, even if you're willing to do things less than heroic to save others. It's why you've kept me alive at the behest of others. You remind me a little of Warden-Commander Dryden."

Avernus pointed to Aedan's shield now and smiled at the battered slab of metal strapped to Aedan's back. "Then there's the choice of your weapons and how you move in combat. Your shield's always out, and you leap to defend everyone around you, even at personal cost. Reckless, but determined. People like to follow those who would protect them." With a more mischievous smile, Avernus chuckled, "Although, you seemed to have worried over that black-haired mage the most."

Aedan grimaced at that last comment. He didn't think had shown preference to Morrigan, but apparently the old mage saw more than even Aedan could. "Done lecturing yet?"

The smile and it's playful demeanor vanished as Avernus coldly said, "A warning; she may be a beautiful one, but she is just like me; a dangerous mage caught up in the pursuit of power. Just as I used men like you, so shall she. You cannot change her nature."

Scowling, Aedan chose not to respond to Avernus's last comments. Instead, he peered at the vial in his hands, rolling it between his fingers and pondering.

The concoction was an abomination, forged from the unjust sacrifices of countless lives, yet Aedan's gut made his hand clench around it, preventing him from smashing it to the ground. Those lives were lost already. Though not a willing sacrifice, it was a sacrifice nonetheless. Perhaps he should honor that.

Avernus sighed and slumped back into his chair. A few hundred years of fighting demons tended to wear out people. "You need not decide now if you wish to take my concoction. It is a dangerous item, much like the Joining. It could kill you, but I ask that you keep it. You could save a lot of people with that."

Hesitantly, Aedan wrapped the vial in a thick layer of cloth and stuffed it into his satchel. "Yeah," he whispered, "I could."

Just as Aedan drifted off to sleep, Morrigan shook him awake. He rolled over and grumbled. Morrigan's fingers fumbled with her underwear as she fastened it behind her back.

"Wake up, fool. You are not sleeping here," stated Morrigan, her back turned while she dressed. An unspoken rule between the two had been to never actually sleep the night together.

"Right. Right," yawned Aedan. He hadn't slept much the nights preceding, so after he and Morrigan had finished, his consciousness had drifted away, upon which Morrigan had yanked it right back.

Morrigan pulled a necklace over her head, it's silver chains clinking. Aedan had gotten it for her at a recent town they had passed by; she had made several longing glances at it while passing by the jewelry booth, and Aedan had surprised her with it later that day. Although she had tried not to seem excited, Aedan took it as a good sign that she was wearing it now.

"Sorry." Aedan rubbed his hands against his face to wake himself up. "Haven't been sleeping well lately- just sort of drifted off again."

"Perhaps it is a side effect of your atrocious eating habits."

"What do you mean 'atrocious' habits?"

"Sorry, I meant just the one: you eat just meat."

"And bread...you can't forget bread."

"Yes...meat and bread," said Morrigan, scowling at his grin, "One might think if the darkspawn don't kill you, the excess of fat clogging your veins will." She huffed and folded up her blanket. "You should eat better."

Wanting to change the subject, Aedan threw out the first thing that came to mind as he slipped his trousers back on. "How does the translation of your mother's tome go? I haven't heard you talk about it in awhile."

Morrigan paused for a moment. The question had caught her off guard. "Yes...I have not done translation work on it in quite some time."

"Oh," replied Aedan, looking away and stifling a laugh. Morrigan whipped around at him. Her hair, still undone, grazed his face, tickling his nose. "'Oh' what? Do you have something you wish to say?" she growled, ferocity in her voice.

"Thought you were more powerful and wiser than other mage," teased Aedan,"and yet you can't even translate one measly tome?"

"Well...whose fault do you think that is? First off, the sheer amount of injuries you sustain, because apparently you have not heard of dodging. Afterwards, you insist that I, not Wynne, be the one who heals you."

"I like your healing better."

"How is one healing different from another?"

Aedan squinted his eyes and raised his hands in front of him "Wynne's healing is more like this." He clicked with his tongue as he moved his hands up and down rhythmically. "Yours is more like this." He started moving his hands in circles and humming under his breath, making extremely concentrated face as he did so.

Morrigan gaped at him in utter disbelief as Aedan continued his imitation of magic. He glanced once at her and tried to look away as the edges of his mouth curved upwards mischievously.

"You are mocking me!" fumed Morrigan, who hit him on the shoulder while Aedan burst out laughing. She continued to hit him while he half-heartedly blocked her palm. "There are very few who would dare mock a mage's magic."

"Sorry sorry sorry," he laughed, raising his arm up to try and stop the barrage of blows.

Eventually, Morrigan relented. "I know very well that you are not," she pouted, then continued on her rant, "And after I heal you, you insist on hovering around me and yapping like a dog by the fire."

"If you didn't want me to talk, you wouldn't answer."

Ignoring him, Morrigan added, "And then, after you are done your chatter, there is barely enough time for us to spend the night together."

"I wouldn't really call it spend the night if we don't actually spend the night together."

"It's called a euphemism, or did you not learn that as a noble?"

Aedan threw his hands up in the air. "I guess I'll just ask Wynne to heal me, and regard you with silence unless you want something?"

Morrigan made a sour expression. "Tis not what I was saying." The mage jabbed him directly on his chest. "I am saying do not blame me when it is your own fault."

"How about this," said Aedan, flicking away her finger. "I'll leave you alone tomorrow so you can make some good headway on that translation. How about that?"

Morrigan smiled. It was good that Aedan understood the importance of her mother's grimoire and that she finish translating it. "That is suitable."

"Wait, what? Maric has a bastard?"

Adair released his grip on Aedan, and pointed him to the chair. Aedan had the funny feeling if he made a run for the dungeon's exit, he'd be dead in seconds. Complying with Adair's request, the rather tired noble slouched down in the wooden chair. Even though he was in his family's dungeon, he was the prisoner here, not Adair.

Adair gazed outside through the small opening in the dungeon wall, meant to give prisoners some semblance of the daylight. The moonlight hit his unshaved, scarred face. His expression was hard to read, as the man's unkempt black hair covered most of his eyes. Aedan surmised that it had been a long time since Adair had seen a barber.

"It's a very well kept secret. In a monarchy like Ferelden, the very existence of a bastard threatens the throne or saves it from existence. When they're not needed, they're a disgrace, and when they're needed, everyone calls for him."

"How do you even know this?" To say that he wasn't interested simply wouldn't be true: Maric, the great and honorable King Maric, having a bastard? Even though Aedan could die the next second, he still wanted to know more.

"I am currently under the employment of a certain individual who believes that one exists."

"Well, so if I believe things, that'll make it true?" Aedan scoffed and clapped his hands together. "Well I'm actually a legendary Grey Warden who slays dragons in his spare time. Wonder if I'll get the back pay that's owed me."

Adair scowled at the young noble's glib words."You are quite a talker, aren't you?"

"Sorry, usually when an assassin is sitting across from me I get a little nervous. I don't really have that many assassin friends."

Ignoring Aedan's nervous outburst, Adair continued on."Well, if you believe something is true, you'll do what it takes to confirm such. My employer sent Victor to fake an assassination attempt. His logic was that Maric would take the appropriate steps to secure his bloodline after such a brush with death. Unfortunately, the king ended up dying a week later, so the Fereldan government's main concern was Cailan's transition to the throne, not securing any bloodlines. After that failed, he then sought me out."

Aedan tried his best to stay calm despite the man sitting across from him. He looked around for anything he could use as a weapon, but to no avail. Adair's words however interested him. "Who is your employer?"

"I don't know. Whoever my employer is, he has resources enough to track me down with mercenaries when everyone else believed me dead, just to deliver a letter and money. I think he may even be one of the men who hired Teharel and I originally, back when Maric originally ascended the throne, as he had knowledge about some of our operations- including one I didn't even know about. Apparently one of our members was tasked with hiding a certain bastard. It wasn't specified whose it was, but it was important enough that it had to be kept under wraps." Adair scratched his beard rather roughly and some skin flakes came out. Aedan tried not to think about this man's distinct lack of hygiene and looked away.

"So what? I help you and your employer find this bastard and let you do Maker knows what with him- and you don't even know who your employer is? That's just great, ain't it, could even be the bloody Orlesians."

"While my employer pays me, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm loyal to him. I want to find this bastard on my own, and make sure there are no more trails tracing back to him."

"So you're trying to play him." Aedan shifted uncomfortably in place as he tried to nudge himself further from Adair. Maybe he could make a run for it. He tried moving his chair closer and closer to the door, while Adair looked away outside.

"And no doubt he knows it, but he and I must cooperate if either of us wish to get what we want."

"You could just, you know, not look for the bastard."

"Then he'd send others. He asked me for two reasons: he knows that I'm the best, and he believes whole-heartedly he can outmaneuver me."

'"How do I know you aren't just lying to me?"

Adair pulled on Aedan's chair and dragged it back to him. In the momentary darkness while Aedan blinked, a dagger flashed underneath his throat. The only evidence it had happened was a small trickle of blood down Aedan's throat from where the dagger had grazed him. Adair's calloused hands gripped Aedan's throat like a vice.

"I could have killed you and taken the documents, then brought them to him. It'd be easy, like killing a small animal."

Adair grinned and patted Aedan on the head, like he would a dog. The young man, frozen in utter fear, watched as Adair picked a ragged cloak and wrapped it around himself.

"Meet me at the Gnawed Noble in three days at closing time," barked Adair, "and bring the documents. If not, I'll slaughter your entire family. Even if you don't believe me, I'll get what I want either way."

Scaled, corrupted claws rushed towards him. A breath of dark purple fire that sizzled the very air around it. The archdemon's eyes stared right at him, looking into his very soul. Aedan's heart slammed against his chest as his vision blurred. The very creature at the end of it watched him. Was this a dream, or did it truly see him? It's mouth gaped open, revealing a cascade of rotting, decrepit fangs, and it lunged forward and-

"Aedan, wake up-"

Cold hands clasped onto his back, shocking him back into the world. Startled, Aedan retreated backwards in the darkness. Still in a cold sweat, his chest heaving up and down, it took a second for Aedan for his eyes to adjust and see who it was: a familiar outline that accompanied him during the nights

He gulped and tried to calm his still racing heart."What do you need, Morrigan? I had just gotten to sleep."

Morrigan looked over the panting Aedan. "Are...you alright?"

"I'm fine. What do you need?" answered Aedan tersely. Morrigan opened her mouth to say something, but then shut her lips and looked downwards. A little more concerned, Aedan softened his tone and asked, "Morrigan?"

Morrigan didn't answer for awhile. She kneeled there silently, just looking to the side and avoiding eye contact with Aedan. She fiddled with her hands and she bit her lip in thought. Clearly something had shaken her; why else would she be so reluctant to speak, and come and try and wake Aedan up in the early morning? Aedan straightened up in his bed roll and tried to make out her expression in the darkness. The witch, even without the darkness, was a difficult individual to discern.

"I finished translating my mother's book," the mage let out, before clamping up again. When she didn't answer for a while, Aedan saw her glance towards the entrance to his tent, and her body shifted that way. As gently as he could without startling her, Aedan placed his hand on her arm.

"Take your time." he reassured, "I'll wait as long as you need."

Morrigan nodded repeatedly, still not speaking, while Aedan took his hand back and waited. The two sat there in silence for what seemed like hours. Perhaps it was.

"My mother has lived for a very long time," whispered Morrigan, finally. "It is only now, after reading her methods, that I realize how she has done this for so many years. She steals a child...a girl...and raises her, fostering her magical ability until she is ripe and ready, and then possesses their body. This is how she maintains her youth- by stealing away her daughters' bodies till they wither away, again and again."

Aedan found himself at a loss for words. His tongue fumbled in his mouth whilst he thought of how to respond to...that. Morrigan's mother had just betrayed her in the sickest way possible.

'I'm sorry?' Such words would only aggravate Morrigan. Even I wouldn't understand this kind of grief. At the very least my parents never betrayed me.

He figured that finding an immediate solution would put someone like Morrigan's mind at ease first. "Can we stop her?," asked Aedan, "Do you have some sort of counter spell?"

"Tis not that simple. To create something like that would take much research, and even then it might not be possible."

And so the only option is...the reason she came in here is-

"I do not relish asking you this...but you are the only one I can ask this of." Morrigan wringed her hands and grew quiet. As the words came out of Morrigan's mouth, Aedan wasn't sure if he was actually hearing them. He wasn't ever sure any child would say this of their parent and actually mean it. He had always understood there to be a sacred bond between parent and child, a bond that which no doubt was the reason he stood here today.

With a despaired expression, Morrigan asked, barely a whisper, "Kill my mother."

Author's Notes

Sorry about the long wait; lots of work recently so I haven't had much time to work on the chapter. Will try to get an update in the next week or so. For those of you who notice, you see a lot of Morrigan in this particular chapter: the next part features heavily on the whole Aedan/Morrigan relationship so if you're a fan of that you'll be pleased.