It should have been easy, ten against one fat thing that couldn't move? Simple.
But when had things ever been simple since she stepped out of the Wilds?
The thing—she couldn't, couldn't, think of it as a woman—called out and its children answered, swarming the carven and raising their crude weapons in defence of their mother.
It was war, it was chaos, and Morrigan fought with all she had.
She flung around spells and pure magic faster than she ever had to before because they wouldn't stop swarming them, they kept coming and Morrigan wouldn't let them make her into one of those! She refused!
She was Morrigan, daughter of Flemeth and lover of Kiara. She had plans and they had nothing to do with becoming a filthy corrupted Broodmother, popping out Darkspawn faster than should be possible.
The only child she planned in having would have a soul of an Archdemon, and unfortunately, would be Alistair's by seed only—it would Kiara's in blood as well, and theirs in all the ways that mattered, she had decided.
That wouldn't happen if she let them touch her, let them take her, and let them touch her in a way that only Kiara could.
She grabbed one of the reaching Darkspawn and pressed her hand firmly against its rotting hand, her magic surging, before she pushed it away into its brethren—it only got ten feet before it exploded and took out five of its fellows.
Branka's death was written in Kiara's eyes as she held Morrigan, she didn't even blink when Hespith fell with an arrow piercing her throat.
Her elf that did it just stared at Hespith's body with hard gold eyes as the other elf placed a hand on his shoulder, muttering to him softly in his strange accent.
Perhaps Oghern should have been thinking of a way to save his wife, perhaps in another life he would have. But this Oghern? Here and now? Sober in a way that he hadn't been for two long years? He couldn't deluded himself into believing that he could bring Branka back and they could continue their marriage like nothing happened. This had happened, she had left him and taken everyone with her, and for what? This? To turn their women into Broodmothers and their men into food?
All over some anvil that was known to be lost and considered by some to be a myth? Sod that, sod the bleeding anvil, sod his bleeding stupid wife.
He would not warn her, like she had not warn him of her plans, and he would watch as the woman he once loved died.
Some may call him heartless, but Oghern didn't care. He loved Laryn too, she had been family, and Branka had let this happen to her—that was something that he couldn't forgive, couldn't fool himself into forgiving.
Laryn had been kind and sweet, Laryn should have never stepped into the Deeproads as she was too gentle for this horror. But Laryn was also loyal, she wouldn't have thought of disobeying Branka and that loyalty had brought her this.
Oghern was thankful that they had killed her, had stopped her torture, and he felt sick at the thought that the other women was somewhere down here, tortured and changed like Laryn had been.
No, Oghern couldn't save Branka, he couldn't save his wife, because she wasn't his wife anymore, she was just a monster that had doomed their family. All for a sodding anvil.
A hand resting on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts and he looked up to see the other elf, Zevran, standing just behind them.
"I think," Zevran began lightly, "my dwarven friend, we should look into getting you another wife—perhaps one without the fondness of other women and obsession over an anvil, yes?"
Oghern actually laughed because if he didn't laugh than he would most likely sob or shout in anger. This wasn't what he thought would happen, but when had things ever gone the way he thought?
Have you ever hated someone so much that you know you'll kill them when you see them without even meeting them? Just her then? Fair enough.
She had never liked Branka, had never sided with her in all her playthroughs and didn't understand why people would actually chose to help her. She hadn't just abandoned her husband, she had brought her family to ruin.
She had mercilessly sacrificed her House, the people that looked up at her and called her family, and for what? An anvil that forcefully bound souls to golem bodies? It was disgusting and Kiara knew she would kill her long before this moment.
It was the horror that was the Broodmother that showed her that she couldn't let and wouldn't let Branka even speak because if Branka began to sprouting her nonsense than Kiara wouldn't be kind, couldn't be kind.
Not when Morrigan shuddered away from the bodies of the Darkspawn, not when there was a new shadow in those gold eyes that she loved, not when Elion's jaw was almost clenched tight enough to break, not when Elion had something else to fear that will befall onto his sister, not when Saya had something new to have nightmares about.
No, Branka would die by her hand without a chance to stop her. Kiara had been called Reaper once for a good reason, it may have been in another world when she went by another name, but it was still true. She was the Bringer of Death, it had been a duty and calling that she had long ago stopped cringing away from and now embraced it.
The Sten thought it was very telling that when the thin blade buried itself into the dwarf woman's neck, making her choke and spill blood down her well-cared for armour, that Alistair only sighed as he looked at Kiara.
"You do remember her that we needed her, right?" Alistair asked which just made Kiara shrug uncaringly, her dark gaze watching as the dwarf choked and coughed on blood.
"We could just lie," Zevran suggested but Faren shook his head shortly.
"The Nobles would know, don't bloody know how but they would," his Kadan explained with a sour turn to his mouth.
"Then let's hope that the bitch was onto something," Kiara spoke up shortly and began to head the way that the dwarven woman had been so intent of them going. "Elion, remind me to never go near dwarven politics and the Deeproads again."
"I'll cheerfully punch you if it seems you are considering it," Elion replied as he followed his own Kadan.
Sten glanced down at his Kadan and wasn't surprised that he was already moving to follow the human woman and just fell in step behind him.
Oghern paused before he followed the others and gave one last sad look at his wife before hurrying after the others. He had loved her once, but the woman he loved had been dead long before Kiara's blade pierced her throat.
We all know what happens next. We had to deal with a small army of Darkspawn, go through Age old traps and end up standing in front of Golems that made Shale look petite. In the end we got a crown, two Paragons were dead, an anvil was broken and had a rubbing of names that had given up everything to be a golem and protect their kingdom.
Shale didn't know what to think as the name Shayle Cadash echoed through her mind. That name was hers and she hadn't known it, hadn't known she had once been flesh and bone like those she now travelled with. She had been mortal, needing rest and nourishment to function, so breakable and easily killed.
"Fearsome human," Shale called out and the woman, Kiara, turned to look at her, one of her arms wrapped snugly around the Swamp Witch. "Your loud friend, she is a Cadash?"
"Yes," she agreed with little interest and mildly—there was a reason that Shale preferred this human over the rest, she wasn't nosy and was as wholly destructive as Shale herself when it came to certain things.
The memory of the whirlwind she had become, furious and deathly afraid, when they had run-ins with giant spiders showed that wonderfully. She also had the ability to scare others just by smiling which was impressive, she had also just accepted Shale in a way that the others didn't—it didn't mean that she trusted Shale, just that she accepted her as a person which was surprisingly important to Shale. Even more important now that she had discovered she had once been a fleshy thing.
"Why was they exiled?" Shale asked after a long moment of silence, something she had been musing on since they had stopped briefly in Cadash Thaig and the Fearsome human remarked that the loud one would enjoy seeing where her family came from.
"They were highly interested into the fate of a certain golem," the human gave her a knowing look. "In the time of her grandfather's childhood, some had gotten fed up with the Shaperate stalling and decided to try and steal the knowledge."
Shale felt something she had never felt before, she felt warm and touched that her descents, her family, still wanted to know what had happened to her. Perhaps she should think about meeting them?
"I don't think they remember just what was so special about this golem, about you," the human continued to explain. "Or they would have stopped at nothing to find you. The House Cadash is big on family loyalty, they would have ripped Thedas apart to find you."
Shale wanted to smile in a way that she was uncertain her stone face would allow for some odd reason.
Sereda watched as the golden crown—forged by the legendary Paragon Caridin—was placed on her brother's pale golden hair and saw the deep pride and victory in his blue eyes—her eyes, their mother's eyes—and found the sight bittersweet.
She had never doubted Harrowmount's word that her father did not wish Bhelen on the throne, but she would always chose her brother over Harrowmount if only to keep the House of Aeducan on the throne.
Bhelen had shown he had the ruthless cunning that was needed to deal and win the game of politics and he had always been ambitious—Trian had been the most revered soldier, Sereda had been the most beloved and Bhelen had been the most ambitious—and had always been different.
He would lead Orzammar into a different future, a better future than Trian would have led them into and perhaps even herself. She had never cared for the Casteless, but here was Bhelen going to make on his Queen, he was going to change things for the better for them. Though she didn't truly understand why that was so important to him—perhaps only because of his Casteless Queen?—she could admire his work.
Harrowmount made it seem like Father hadn't approved of the way that Bhelen had gotten rid of both Trian and herself in one clever plot which Sereda found hypocritical as their Father had arranged the death of his own older brother to gain the throne in the first place.
Sereda wasn't sure if she had ever really wanted the throne, Trian wanted it because he believed it was his right but they had all known he wouldn't have been a good king as he only did two things with single-minded focus; fuck women and fight.
And it was perhaps why she believed she would have the throne and that they would chose her over her brute of a brother, and she almost wanted to laugh at herself as she completely forgot her other brother. Bhelen who had never been content to be lookover, who had always burned with ambition, who had listened and learnt and read more than either Trian or Sereda put together—they had always been more focused on the study of the blade, and Sereda to courting people to herself.
It was probably best that Bhelen was king as a king needed to be more than a simple soldier and courtier.
"Long live King Bhelen," she called out and smiled at the affection that was clear in his eyes when he looked at her.
She may not have a name anymore, she may not be a Princess, she may not have Gorim, but somehow she still had her little brother that caused all of this.
She almost laughed because it sounded like the worst joke in history, but it was true and Sereda was alright with that.
AN: Short I know, but you can probably tell I struggled with this chapter—hopefully Soldier's Peak will be easier to write. For those that don't know, I've moved onto the Harry Potter verse in my story A Magical Life, so please go and check it out and tell me what you think.
House Targaryen has won the vote and I'd be interested in who'd you like our favourite rouge—going to be called Sheana in that verse—to be paired with in that verse.
Mass Effect has also be decided to be one of the next verses I tackle with Urdnot Wrex being the father to our girl—who will be known as Urdnot Cora—and it seems she'll be ending up with Shepard—there is a poll on my profile where you can vote for male or female Shepard or Joker because Joker needs love that isn't a robot.