Sorry about the long delay. I got ready to go on vacation and went on vacation. I'm also going through my entire house in a seventeen-year clean up as preparation for putting laminate floor down in most of the rooms. So it might be a while before I update, though I've got some of the next chapter done already.
Thanks to Rake 1810 for multiple reviews! And to jonnpark, Guest, RakeeshJ4 (multiples and your reviews are always so thoughtful and bring up things I hadn't thought of!), The-Demon-Of-Soul-Society, Zukafew119 (multiple reviews), Dmachin200, Tsuh Doh Nimh, Mike (x 2 in stealth mode and out of it!), mille libri, spectre4hire, JordanMathias, xseikax, karthik9, MrPowell, Blackholelord, lazyguy90, Suilven, JadeOokami, hub.1, FireKing500, and multiple guests for your wonderful reviews of the last chapter. Going back over them gave me the kick-start I needed to get this going again.
The question of what had happened to Denerim's defenders was answered in part as soon as Corin and his people entered Drakon's first floor. There had obviously been a pitched battle at the doors, for corpses were scattered across the floor.
"Less than a day old," Morrigan said, nudging one with her toe.
"Do you mind?" Cauthrien snarled. The Wilder witch looked at her in surprise, for the third Warden had said next to nothing in their travels and had certainly not spoken with the ire she exhibited now. Then realization dawned.
"Oh. My apologies. You knew some of these men, didn't you?"
"All of the ones from Gwaren," Cauthrien muttered, her eyes sweeping the floor. She moved to one of the bodies, unslung her cloak and spread it over the man. "Maker keep you, Taver," she said softly in benediction over the still form. Blinking a couple of times, she looked up at the Crown Prince. "They're not all here. And I don't see the Arl."
He nodded gravely. There was a presence up on the roof of Drakon, a huge, pulsing darkness that both oppressed and called to him. "Then perhaps we may save some of them yet. Let's go."
Over the course of the next half hour, Nerissa learned a couple of new things. One was that although undead were bony and you would think that they would be resistant to most spells that burned or froze or crisped flesh, such was simply not the case. And another, that she didn't like shades at all.
The way that they billowed around you so that you couldn't see, then all of a sudden would solidify enough to strike at you and send you flying. That they were so amorphous that it was difficult to target them. The stench and the cold and the conjured whirlwinds. The teeth-grinding sense of wrong.
Corin and his people were in some sort of huge hall, complete with siege engines. What looked to be a darkspawn emissary had seemingly summoned several shades and vanished. Nerissa was frantically throwing spells at the unnatural things when Morrigan seized her free arm.
"No! Look for the conjurer, target him! He'll show up again, he has to. We need to target him or he'll be calling these things all day, wearing us down."
"But the-" Nerissa gestured at the battle going on around them.
"They'll be fine. They can handle a few shades. And they'll have less to handle if-" Morrigan's helmeted head swiveled suddenly. "There the little bastard is! Get him!"
The conjurer was at the opposite end of the hall, so Nerissa ran forward to close range and dropped a Fireball on him. Morrigan followed suit. The two mages then leveled their staffs as one and proceeded to hammer him with Arcane Bolts and Lightning. Shaken, the conjurer vanished in a puff of shade-like black smoke. Heads turning back and forth, the two women looked for him to reappear, which he did at the opposite end of the hall. Running around the verge of the shade battle, they engaged him once more, both staffs smoking cold as they unlimbered their ice spells together. Nerissa Petrified him, then Stonefisted him, and the combination did damage but did not kill him outright. What did kill him was the lightning follow-up from both mages.
The fighters and rogues finished off the shades. Corin looked towards where the two mages stood and sketched a bow. "Thank you, ladies." Morrigan inclined her head and Nerissa grinned at him. He gestured them forward.
"Onward, my friends."
It was as if Fort Drakon had become some sort of darkspawn preserve or menagerie. The party was encountering all the sorts of 'spawn they had met before, as well as a few interesting new varieties. That conjurer, for instance, had been both like and unlike the shaman-like one they'd encountered at Ostagar, who had been far and way front-runner for The Most Annoying Darkspawn Corin Had Ever Met.
The young Warden Prince listened with half an ear to the chat behind him, as they worked their way through the barracks on the second floor. It was becoming increasingly harder to think of anything other than that malevolent thing on the roof and from Alistair's and Cauthrien's occasional glances upwards, he could tell they were feeling it as well.
He wondered if he should have stopped Leliana and Zevran from looting the belongings of Drakon's most likely dead defenders, but he didn't see the point. If his people came away from this with their lives, they would deserve everything he could reward them with.
What was a more interesting distraction was the way Morrigan and the little enchanter had hit it off. Corin supposed that it was understandable-Nerissa's "Gee! An apostate! Excellent!" was bound to go over better than Wynne's oft-stated belief that apostates were one and all untrustworthy and blood mages in the making. Nevertheless, Morrigan did not usually warm to people so quickly as she had to Surana, and it was intriguing to her lover.
"You have to do the Spell Might first," Nerissa was explaining earnestly. "Do you have anything like that?"
"I don't know. I've not completely studied Mother's main grimoire yet. But I cannot imagine her not having it or something similar, useful as it is for augmenting power."
"Well, anyway, you lay it down first, then the other two on top it. First Blizzard, then Tempest. Of course, you can also use it to boost either of them separately or Firestorm, for that matter. Are you sure you have to leave in such a hurry? I could teach you the spell or write it down for you."
"You would give an apostate such a powerful spell?" Morrigan asked in disbelief. "I'm sure Wynne would not approve. Isn't she your superior?"
"Hey, we're comrades-in-arms, aren't we?" This was followed by a decidedly vulgar suggestion about where Wynne could put her approval or lack of it, which drew an amused snort from Morrigan. "Besides," Nerissa continued. "Wynne may have been involved in saving the Circle, but you were there too and I like you a whole lot better, even after such short acquaintance."
There was a moment's silence, then Morrigan spoke again. "About the shape-changing business. I didn't mean to be rude about it earlier. But the fact of the matter is that you can't shape-change until you intimately know the ways and habits of the creature you wish to become and I can't see you having much access to wildlife at Kinloch."
Nerissa sighed despondently. "No, you've got that right, and I get out more than most. I guess I could study lake birds, learn to become a duck or something."
"While it is true that ducks blend in well, at least close to water, people also see them and think of roast duck with crackling. I guarantee that if you're shot as a duck you'll be just as dead if you're shot as a human. You might want to study something less…palatable."
"See? You're good at this survival stuff. Most Circle mages don't even know to think of stuff like that. We're like…like fat little geese that have been kept penned so long they can't fly and wouldn't survive in the wild if they were released. Well, maybe except for Anders."
"Anders?"
"Yes. He was a spirit healer, came to us from the Anderfels when he was twelve. And because he came so late, he didn't much care for being pent up in the Circle. He had escaped five…no, I think it was six times when I left for the war. Needless to say, Gregoir left him behind under guard, despite the fact that he's a great healer. He was a friend of mine and I'm worried about him. If he keeps this up, he'll be Tranquiled or maybe even killed."
"Yes, because of course if you're a mage, knowing your own mind and wishing to be free is a killing offense," Morrigan said dryly.
"I'm no fan of Gregoir myself, you know."
"I can't see why you would be. After all, he was willing to sit outside that door and let the innocent mages and children perish while he and his men twiddled their thumbs and waited for the Rite of Annulment."
"Exactly." A moment of silent camaraderie happened between the women. Corin remembered the rage he himself had felt, upon first encountering Wynne, Petra, Kinnon and the children and realizing how close they were to the sealed door. While he could sympathize somewhat with Gregoir's stance on saving the rest of Ferelden from the abominations, he'd personally never found abominations all that difficult to deal with, much preferring facing them to an uncorrupted and competent mage. The knight-commander's hand-wringing over the possibility of slain innocents while he himself was safe outside had seemed more than a bit hypocritical to Corin. And his insistence upon imprisoning Morrigan, after she'd been instrumental in resolving his problem had been the last straw as far as the Prince was concerned.
"If a hypothetical Circle mage were somehow able to master a form and shape-shift," Morrigan was speaking again, "my suggestion would be something that could fly, preferably a raptor. Sparrows blend in well, but they are prey for too many things. Then I would suggest that said mage make a serious study of outdoor survival. Perhaps if said mage were elvish, she might talk to some of the Dalish before they return to their forests and learn what she could from them. Then, when the mage was ready to make a break, the wisest course of action would be to go to some place wild, perhaps the Korcori, and hole up somewhere remote."
"The templars would track the Circle mage with the mage's phylactery," Nerissa said.
"I would certainly hope so. It would be best if they did."
"Huh? I don't follow."
"The Korcori marshes would be an excellent choice. A bird can fly above terrain that will whelm an armored man. Flying there, the mage would have time to establish a camp and set magical and physical traps. If the mage were a healer and were willing to help the Chasind, they would leave her alone and might even help. When the templars came, it would be possible to pick them off one by one and acquire the phylactery and destroy it. It is also possible that it might be lost beyond recall in the marshes. Either possibility would serve. The mage would be free-or at least untraceable by their damned blood magic."
"But she'd have to kill people."
"Yes, she would. People who do not regard her as a real person. People who would be ready to kill her outright or worse yet, strip her of everything that made her what she was and turn her into a soulless puppet to dance to their whim and put gold in their pockets. Freedom has a price, Enchanter."
The elf mage's voice was very soft. "Have you killed templars, Morrigan?"
"Yes. Upon several occasions. And as I wish to continue walking free, I will probably have to kill more of them in the future. It's them or us, Surana. It always has been."
"I see." Nerissa fell silent then, and Corin suppressed a smile. It appeared that Morrigan's friendliness had actually been intended to sow discord and rebellion and was quite in character after all!
"Well, well, well…" Alistair drawled softly, his hand upon the door. "Genlocks, lots of them. And from the way they're arranged, they've all got bows trained right on the door."
"Area spells would seem to be called for then," Corin said, his brow arched thoughtfully. "All right then, here's what we'll do. Sten, you catch the door. Alistair, you shield Nerissa and I'll cover Morrigan. We'll let the girls start their spells and Sten, you yank it open when they're about to go off, then close it as soon as they do. The rest of you, stay back. Once the spells are finished, we'll all go in to mop up. Everyone understand?"
"Yes, kadan," Sten said in his deep voice, while nods and murmurs of assent came from the others. Nerissa moved forward with Alistair, then hesitantly slid into the space between his body and the shield. The mabari dropped back as she did so. Alistair's bulk radiated warmth and a not-unpleasant scent of steel and leather and clean man-sweat. She made a brief experimental pass with her staff around the edge of the shield, then looked up at him. His brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned.
"You good to go, Enchanter?" She nodded, then looked over to where Morrigan had done the same with Corin. The Prince's face was impassive, but there was possessiveness plain in the way his shield arm curved around the Wilder witch.
"Begin, ladies," Corin commanded, and they did. It all went according to plan. Sten yanked the door open at just the right moment and fire and ice sheeted into the room. A rain of arrows were shot in return, but the door and the warriors' shields spared the mages any damage. The Qunari slammed the door shut, then grunted as bodies began to impact upon it. Corin and Alistair joined him in bracing it shut, which they managed to do until the roaring and crackling sounds ceased in the other room. When the door was yanked open again and they all poured into the room, they had to clamber over a windrow of bodies that had fallen against it to get to the few disoriented darkspawn who remained. It was short work to take care of the rest of them.
Nerissa looked around at the room, which seemed to be a large armory or salle. "Why didn't they just move back out of the spells?" she asked the Prince. "There was plenty of room for them to do so." Corin shrugged.
"Most likely because they knew we were on the other side of the door. Darkspawn seem compelled to attack humans, even when it would be in their better interest to retreat."
"It almost seems…sad, somehow."
She thought he would laugh at her, but he just nodded, his blue eyes thoughtful. "It does, doesn't it? They don't ask to be what they are." He gave her a smile, but it looked a little strained. "Let's go back out. If I remember correctly, there is another way out of here."
They went back into the antechamber, which was full of weapon racks. There was another door there, one that Corin knew led ultimately to the roof and he was about to open it when Leliana laid her hand upon his arm and stopped him.
"Traps. Lots of traps, just beyond that door," the bard said, her pretty face frowning.
"There's something else too," Alistair said. "Darkspawn, but they keep…flickering."
"I feel it too," the Prince said, his brow furrowed. "Rogues, maybe? Be wary, everyone." He moved to open the door again, only to be stopped by Cauthrien this time.
"I'll do it, Highness." He nodded, stepped back with Starfang held at the ready, then gestured to Zevran.
"Zev, watch Leli's back when she's dealing with those traps." The Antivan nodded, his sword and dagger drawn, his gold-brown eyes flickering everywhere about the room.
Cauthrien threw the door open and chaos erupted. Gouts of black smoke filled the room and suddenly there were darkspawn among them. The most formidable-looking one materialized directly behind Corin, but Oghren was upon it immediately. Another one had appeared rather unfortunately in the corner closest to the golem, who leapt with surprising swiftness to the task of trying to pound it into the wall.
The third appeared directly behind Alistair, daggers raised to drive into his back. Nerissa, with no foes upon her, saw it from the corner of her eye, spun and did a Winter's Breath. Sten, who was closest to the warden, swept his greatsword down in the next moment in a powerful blow and shattered the frozen darkspawn. Alistair jumped, turned to look over his shoulder, then grinned ruefully at the two of them.
The leader of the darkspawn never stood a chance between Oghren, Cauthrien, Morrigan and Corin himself. There appeared to have been only three and as the first two were killed, everyone turned their attention to Shale, who was single-handedly dealing with the third. No one seemed inclined to get in the golem's reach as her powerful fists battered the spawn into paste against the stone. Eventually the slamming blows ceased. Her blood-spattered rocky head turned to survey her audience and she grinned, her stony face somehow radiating a gruesome cheer.
"Well, that was bracing, wasn't it? Shall we find more things to kill?"
Leliana and Zevran moved into the next room. The bard began disarming the traps while Zevran stood guard over her.
"Looks like some officer quarters here, my studly prince," he commented, his expression hopeful. Corin just sighed, shaking his head.
"Go ahead, you two."
"Thanks, Sten," Alistair told the Qunari, who grunted in response. He then came over to Nerissa. "Thanks to you as well, Enchanter," and patted the top of her head again. This was getting to be a habit with him.
Irritation filled the little elf mage, for it was hardly the first time in her life that a lack of stature had caused a dearth of respect. She crooked her finger at Alistair.
"Come down here, Warden Theirin." When he obliged her and bent down, she stared at him nose to nose for a moment, her smoldering, green-hazel eyes boring into his puzzled brown ones. Then, moved by an impulse she didn't understand in the least, she threw her arms around her neck and mashed her lips against his.
Their noses bumped, and he jumped, his eyes widening. She tightened her grip, hearing the dwarf's ribald cackle behind them. She'd only kissed a couple of times in the Circle, she was hardly what one would call experienced, but after the initial moment of surprise Alistair didn't seem to be protesting. Ending the kiss and releasing him, she glared up at him.
"Not a child. Got it?"
He seemed bemused for a moment, until he got a look at that glare, whereupon he hurriedly acknowledged, "Yes, ma'am! Not a child. Definitely."
There was a snort from the Qunari, and Nerissa turned to him. He acknowledged her with an inclination of the head.
"You were awfully quick with that sword, Sten. We make a good team."
Another nod. "Apparently so, bas-saarebas."
"What does that mean?"
"A bas is a foreigner, one not of the Qun. Saarebas is what we call our mages. It means, literally, 'a dangerous thing'."
"Really? That's awesome!"
The Qunari gave her a disapproving, purple-eyed stare. "It was not meant as a compliment."
"Oh."
They were almost there. Corin remembered this hall from his last trip up to the roof. This hall, a large chamber, then steps and another door. The roof and the Archdemon…At this distance, the source of the Taint almost overwhelmed its lesser manifestations, but Corin extended his Warden senses through the door anyway, knowing that there was most likely some formidable resistance blocking their way and needing to know what it was. After a moment of intense concentration, he was able to discern that opposition. Surprisingly, it was not as bad as he thought.
"Two ogres and an emissary," he said, looking at Alistair, who nodded confirmation. He then looked at Cauthrien, who was eyeing the door with a look of intense concentration. "Can you feel them, Cauthrien? It's difficult for me with the Archdemon up there."
"I'll say!" muttered Alistair.
She nodded. "I think I'm beginning to. The ogres just feel…bigger. And emissaries make me…itchier than the regular darkspawn do."
"Continued practice will enable you to refine it until you're pretty precise. You'll be able to sense exact numbers and locations." He looked around at his people. "The ogres are on either side of the room, the emissary is on the far side closest to the roof door. I've got the ogre on the right; Alistair, you take the left. Cauthrien and Leli, you're with Alistair; Oghren and Zev with me. Sten, Pook, Nerissa, Morrigan, Shale-take care of the emissary. Everyone know what to do?"
A muted chorus of assent answered him. Corin hit the door hard, and it burst open.
They had worked together as a group for a year, and it showed, everyone turning to their assigned tasks with smooth dispatch. The two new members, Cauthrien and Nerissa, were both quick studies and meshed with the party as if they'd been there all along.
Corin took down his ogre as he'd done the ones at Redcliffe, Oghren and Zev attacking it from behind. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cauthrien leap gracefully upwards to skewer the other one while Alistair and Leli flanked it. Once the ogre was slain, he spared a look towards where the emissary had been. He'd heard the crackle of a chain lightning spell and did not know if it had been Nerissa or the emissary. Sten and Shale were standing behind a table and over something he could not see. Pooka's seemingly unscathed hindquarters and tiny tail were visible around the table's edge. Both Morrigan and Nerissa looked a little dazed, by which he gathered that Sten had probably unlimbered a Cleanse to counter the emissary.
"Everything all right over there?" he asked. The golem nodded.
"Oh yes. The darkspawn mage is dead. Squishing mages is always so satisfying…" She ignored the glares shot at her by both Morrigan and Nerissa. Sten wiped his blade and sheathed it.
"All is well, kadan. Is the final battle nigh?"
Corin looked towards the door and frowned, hearing the sounds of battle. The remainder of the men who'd stayed, perhaps?
"In a moment, Sten. Let's catch our breath. Leli, Zev, would you investigate those alcoves please? The two of you stick together."
The two rogues moved into the first of the alcoves that stood on either side of the hall. He heard Leliana's happy exclamation.
"Corin! There are potions down here! Lots of them!" She returned with an armful of healing and lyrium potions, including a super-powerful bottle of each. Corin raised his eyebrows. Emergency stores for the keep? He took the potions and began distributing them among his companions as Leliana hastened over to the other alcove. The powerful lyrium potion was offered to Morrigan, who shook her head.
"Give it to Surana, so she can do one of those big spells of hers."
The little elf accepted the potion, and tucked it somberly into her pouch of pockets. She looked a little green. There was nothing wrong with her ears, even if she couldn't sense the overwhelming waves of Taint. The Archdemon was roaring.
Leliana was soon back with more potions, which were also distributed. There was no more putting off of the inevitable. It was time.
Corin cleared his throat and spoke. "No one could ask for any better, braver companions. I have been so fortunate in my friends. Thank you all."
The next moment, he was being embraced by Alistair, Leliana and Zevran all at once.
"The best brother anyone could ever have," Alistair murmured by his ear.
"Let's make sure this is not a tragic song, shall we?" Leliana suggested. "I'd rather write a happy one."
"Signore," Zevran breathed, but his sun-kissed face was sober for once and he communicated a wealth of meaning in that one word.
When he was released, Corin looked around at the others.
"It has been an honor, kadan," came Sten's rumble.
"It should make an extra effort not to be squished in the next little bit. I should hate to step in it by accident," noted Shale. "I might slip and that would be so awkward!"
"Good on you, laddie," came Oghren's uncharacteristically soft voice.
As the newcomers, Cauthrien and Nerissa had drawn together watching the farewells. Cauthrien gave Corin a nod of acknowledgment when the others released him and his glance crossed hers.
"Let me take this, Highness," she said softly. "Believe it or not, it is what he would want me to do."
"I'm not looking for it, Cauthrien, believe you me. But I'm not going to avoid it either. If it falls to me, I'm making the kill. I know that you two will do the same." She nodded, as did Alistair. The three Wardens shared a moment of mutual resolve, then he turned to his mages.
Nerissa gave him an impressively bright smile, for all of her fear. "It's been great, Your Highness. I wouldn't have missed this day for anything! Beats running those stairs all hollow!"
"I just wish we'd met you sooner, Enchanter Surana. You would have been a boon companion this last year." She grinned, obviously very pleased.
He turned at last to face Morrigan.
For one instant, the confidant mask slipped and Corin was just a scared young man going out to face death. Morrigan was the only one who saw it and when she did, her hard-held resolve broke.
Always, I have made him ask. Ask for every kiss, every embrace. He has never taken anything more than I was willing to give. Just this once, he will not have to ask for what has always been his!
Her helm clattered unnoticed onto the stone floor as she stepped forward and reached for his. Startled, he nonetheless managed to catch the golden dragonbone by the strap as she pulled it off his head.
"Beloved," she declared publicly for the first and last time and stretched up to wrap her arms around that strong young neck, lips locking with his, her fingers tangling in his sweat-soaked black mane.
His arms immediately clamped around her in turn and there was a creak as silverite and dragonbone ground together. And then there was nothing but Corin's lips, his tongue, his scent, his arms crushing her. She drank it in through her very pores, for it was going to have to last for a lifetime. For what seemed a blissful eternity the two of them were locked together, oblivious to the fascinated (and in Alistair's case, appalled) stares of their compatriots.
The Archdemon roared again, more loudly, loud enough to shake the room. Almost a challenge it seemed, and she watched as Corin came back to himself. He loosened his grip upon her and blinked swiftly a couple of times. Pressing his forehead to hers for a moment, he murmured, "Thank you, my love. For everything." Then his head lifted and the mask was back, that face of diffident confidence they would have all cheerfully followed into the Fade. He stepped away from her and put his helm back on as they all gathered around.
"There are ballistas up here. We're going to use them-Cauthrien and I know how. I seriously doubt the Archdemon is immune to tree trunks being shot through it! We'll soften it up with them, then close for the kill. Two parties across the roof from each other. That way, hopefully whichever way it moves, we can still bring a ballista to bear. Cauthrien, you take Alistair, Leliana, Nerissa and Shale with you. Morrigan, Zevran, Oghren and Sten, you're with me. Pook, you stay with Nerissa." The mabari whined in protest. Corin came over and ruffled his ears.
"She needs your help, old friend. I'll be all right." Suddenly, two huge paws were on his shoulders and a washrag tongue was laving his face. Corin laughed, the carefree laugh of the boy he'd once been.
"Thanks, Pook! Good to know I'll meet the Archdemon with a clean face!" He squeezed the massive shoulders, then the mabari dropped back down and returned to the enchanter. Corin moved to the roof door. That intense blue gaze swept his companions one last time.
"Let's go do this."
The door opened and a blast of corruption hit them.