"So we're back in the Korcari Wilds. Yay," Tabris commented without much joy as they trudged through the forest. "I did miss this place, what with the poisonous snakes-" he jumped over one as it slithered beneath his feet "-stinging gnats, evil trees. And of course our lovely neighbors the barbarian cannibals."

"We're not sightseeing," Thorin said, swinging his ax to clear a path. "We're going to Morrigan's mother."

"O-ho. So you're going to finally ask for her permission to woo Morrigan?"

"No. We're going to kill her."

Tabris stopped walking. "Did I hear it right? You want to kill an old lady?"

"She's not an old lady, she's a powerful witch," Thorin replied.

"She's not? Weren't you the one who said she was just an old lady and we're just scaring ourselves with those Witch of the Wilds nonsense?"

"I did say that until she got us out of the tower of Ishal. You think one frail old lady had managed to kill all those darkspawn and carried us out one by one to her hut?"

"Hey, you never know. Old ladies are sneaky. They know a lot of old lady tricks and before you know it, you'd be eating casserole listening as she tells you a story and knits you socks. Just look at Wynne."

Thorin explained to them what Morrigan discovered in Flemeth's fake grimoire and why it was necessary that Flemeth has to be stopped. When he finished, Tabris shook his head. "Wow. I can understand getting away from your parents, but killing your own mother? That's just excessive, don't you think?"

"So's taking over the body of your own child."

Amadeus interrupted. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan is to kill her and take her grimoire," Thorin replied.

"So we kill an old lady and then rob her? Is that supposed to make it better? Because it isn't working," Tabris commented.

"If all goes well, there won't be any killing. I just took you along just in case it went bad."

"Alright. We'll just hide in those bushes then, pretending we're not curious."

Thorin stopped long enough for them to hide out of sight. He wanted to take Mahariel with them, for she seemed to know something about Flemeth, but he never caught her before sunrise so they would have to do. He approached the hut.

Strangely, Flemeth was standing just outside the door, as if she expected them.

"So you have returned," she greeted. "Lovely Morrigan has finally found someone to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn't you say?"

He felt his conscience ease a bit as she said those words. For if she truly was a loving mother, she would not chose to humiliate her child in front of strangers. "I know your secret."

She laughed. "Which one, I wonder? What has Morrigan told you? I wonder what plan has she hatched this time?"

Thorin told her about her secret to immortality, her taking over her daughter's body when near death from old age. "That is what she believed," he added.

She nodded. "That she does. But the question is, do you? Ah, but it is an old story that Flemeth has heard before and even told." She stood up straigther and said more briskly, "Let's skip right to the ending. Will you do as Morrigan bids, or does the tale take a different end?"

"I want to know the truth."

"The truth? As if it were nothing?," she asked, surprised. "How like a man. No, no, it is far better to lie. Far better than blankets and shadows and a mother's love. Morrigan wishes my grimoire? Take it as a trophy. Tell her I am slain."

"And you will leave?"

"I go. Perhaps I will surprise Morrigan one day or I may simply watch. It'll be interesting to see what she does with her freedom. Enlightening, even. Would you give an old woman that?"

Thorin was silent, deliberating. "You were never going to leave her alone, weren't you?" he asked quietly.

"And why would I? She is my child. You can quite be free of your parents."

Which is more important, to honor a debt but condemn a life to possession, or to free her for a time but entrap yourself along with her fate? He made his decision. He drew his ax and pointed it at her. "I'm sorry, but I cannot let you go. But we both know this isn't the end for you. You'll come back eventually. I'm just knocking you out temporarily."

"As you wish," she said, turning around to walk to the clearing. "This is a dance Flemeth knows. Let us see if she remembers it well," she murmured, before turning around to face him. "Come, she will have what she takes. I will have no other way," she challenged. she swept her hands and her being filled with light, growing brighter, bigger, stronger until she turned into a...dragon.

DRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNN!

Back at the bushes, they watched wide eyed as they saw Flemeth transform. A minute passed with their mouths hanging open before they sprang into action, running towards Thorin.

The dragon saw them, hissed, reared back its head, and shot a fireball.

"Keep running!" Amadeus shouted as they headed to the back of hut, Thorin included. He swept his staff and the fireball burst into flames as it hit the barrier.

"Tell me you have a plan for that!" Tabris shouted at Thorin when they had met behind the hut.

"I don't so we'll just have to wing it!" the dwarf shouted back as fire shot through at his side.

"WING IT? Holy Andraste, save us, we're going to die!" the elf wailed as fire passed through his side too.

Then they saw Mahariel running toward them, with rope on her belt. She reached them and squeezed in. "Flemeth…can turn into a dragon," she panted. They all look at her and said at the same time "You don't say."

"So are we going to just sit here to be roasted?" Alistair asked. Thorin peeked at the corner to look at the dragon. "We need to keep her from flying or we're all dead."

"Then I need to be at her back. Vhenan, you have to throw me," she said to Alistair.

"Um, not to mention that that sounds crazy, we'll be set on fire before we could be near enough to throw you," he answered.

"We do not need to get close," she said, tying the rope on an arrow.

"That means you need cover. I'm going first. Tabris, follow me if you have a chance. Amadeus stay here," Thorin said and held his shield in front of him. He peeked at the dragon and saw it pause to draw breath. "Go!" he shouted. Amadeus fired a bolt at the dragon's head as the dwarf started to run. He held his shield in front, yelling like a demon and running like hell at the dragon. He rolled underneath, swung his ax and chopped the nearest toe, running away deeper into its underbelly. The dragon reached under, maw snapping after the dwarf.

Alistair stood up and threw Mahariel in the air, who had drawn her bow with the arrow and rope. She shot at the outstretched wing midair, caught the end of the rope, and swung underneath the other wing and over. She swung herself on its back, drew her knives out and slashed at the membranes of its wing, making great tears as she leaped from wing to wing.

The dragon roared, rearing its head back to pluck the elf off its wings, but Tabris slashed at its leg, severing the tendon between foot and claw. Thorin ax bit deeper into its front leg, making it unable to stand higher.

"Here, you ugly beastie!" Alistair taunted in front of it when it tried going after the elf again. He took cover behind his shield as the dragon snapped at him.

The dragon turned around to bite the people weaving in and out of its legs, chopping and slashing at its feet, crippling it, while the elf kept tearing in its wings. Mahariel finished cutting holes in its wings, drew out her bow and started shooting at the spot between nape and head, directly below the skull. The dragon drew its head out to bite her, but Alistair slashed at its neck and blood burst from a vein. Thorin swung his ax deep into its leg when it tried to bite Alistair in half, making it roar. While it was distracted, Tabris cut a hole between shoulder and rib and shouted for Alistair. Alistair ducked underneath, ran to the spot where Tabris was, and shoved his sword deep into the hole. The dragon roared as the sword pierced its heart and its claw shot out to take it out. Thorin hacked at the other leg, sending it dowon to the side and Alistair twisted the sword deep. The dragon roared again, its neck dropping, its legs giving up from too many wounds. Alistair drew out his sword and walked over near its neck, where he swung it to end its misery. It stumbled, reeling and rolling, until at last, it lay dead.

It was over. The dragon lay dead in a heap, the Wardens around it, panting. All of them looked exhausted and relieved, except Mahariel. She stared in shock at the corpse.

"Ashabellanar is dead, and I have killed her," she moaned.

"Er, she lived a long life I suppose," Alistair said awkwardly, unsure to comfort her, as she was the only one who is genuinely distraught that the witch is dead.

Thorin went in the hut and came back with the grimoire. "Let's go. The sun's already setting."

As they headed back to camp, Tabris muttered "That witch had better be grateful."


Back at camp, Thorin handed the book to Morrigan. She accepted it without a word, without once asking about what happened. Even though she had orchestrated the murder of her mother, she seems not to feel any jubilation for the death of her enemy. In fact, her spirits are rather…low.

"This is a heavy debt that I owe you. Do you have other things in mind for your reward?"

"A few words of thanks is enough."

"Then you have my thanks."

She was a bit puzzled by his request so she began again. "I wonder why you should ask such a simple thing. Other men would have asked for something more from me, for I doubt my mother would have made it easy for you to kill her. And yet you only ask for a few words. Why is that?"

"Why should you think anyone should ask for something in return for their help?"

She laughed as if he was a simple-minded child. "That is the way of the world, is it not? Every act between people is in a form of giving and receiving, which, depending on your skill, may tip it from one or the other."

"Not all of them. That's not what happens for say, friends."

"Ah, yes friendship, that which everyone loves to praise," she sneered. "But it is nothing more than an alliance for mutual benefit, whether to give worth to oneself due to being incapable of doing it alone, to receive a service for service rendered, and to have a sense of safety. In short, a way for the weak to thrive in a dangerous world by putting oneself in a herd."

He did not answer so she continued. "The world is divided into two: the hunter and the hunted would always invent things to secure their survival, such as the friendship you and everyone else pride on. I need it not, for I am no prey."

"Don't you have friends when you were young?"

"Why would I have them?"

"Well, you must be lonely with only your mother for company."

"I can amuse myself well enough. But even if I am inclined to want the companionship of other children, how could I have them? From my observations of these so-called friendships, they involve exchanging stories about trivial things from their lives. Do you think the children of my youth would be glad to hear that my mother would sometimes let me braid the hair of her victim before she cuts his head off? Or when I was ten, my mother gave me for my birthday, not a doll, but a doughty old farmer to practice my spells on?"

Thorin thought she has a point and so clarified what friends do to each other. "Friends give to each other freely, without strings attached."

"Then they were swindled. Only a fool would do something for nothing."

Thorin was silent for a moment. "I am sorry to hear that," he said softly, with a look she couldn't identify. It wasn't pity; it lacks the relief to not be in her position. He wasn't besotted either; his eyes lack the vapid but eager look to hear her wishes. No, it is something else, something between the two; one she hadn't seen yet.

Then she suddenly felt anxious.

"So, do you have anything to request from me?" she asked. She tried, but strangely, she cannot muster the same coolness of voice as she once had. "Or are you content with those paltry words of mine?"

"Yes, I do want something from you, Morrigan. But not in the way you think."

He bade her a good day, before standing up and walking away. She let him go, watching, puzzled more than ever.


The next time they met, she greeted him with this: "You are one wicked dwarf."

"What did I do now?" he asked, spreading his hands in mock surprise.

"Must you keep me in suspense for longer about telling me what you wish from me?"

"Is everything always about getting as much as you can?"

"Yes of course. It is the most rational thing to do. Well, do speak and I shall try my best to fulfill it."

"Do you want me to press you to do something for me?"

"Of course not. It would be unpleasant for me, yes, but you should have. You should always make most of your advantage. "

He just stood there, looking at her with that wry smile on his face. "I wouldn't force you to do something you don't want, Morrigan. I thought you knew that."

"That is…novel," she said, surprised. Her mind cannot decide if he is a fool or not. But he doesn't look like a fool, for if he did, she would have wrapped him around her finger by now. He did her bidding yes, but only on things he agree with. Overall, he never did something of hers just because she said so. She thought for a moment then came up with something she absolutely do not believe in.

"Is it love?" she asked, with as much sarcasm as she could muster. "Do you wish me to love you?" she said mockingly.

For a strange reason, she was afraid if he had said yes. Her view of him would have sunk lower, for she knew love is something people say to satisfy their lust and fool the other give in to their wants with no cost to themselves. She knew her life would be easier if he said yes, but why...why does she wish him not to?

He only chuckled at that and said "I leave you to your imagination. Stone knows it's lively enough."


Elissa watched Zevran flirt with Amadeus without much success. The mage showed no interest, not responding to his flirting or else sending the elf away with a flea on his ear. So when the elf walked away from Zevran the mage for the fifth time, she decided to confront Zevran about his behavior.

"So you like him, don't you?" she asked, walking beside him.

"Why else would I not? Do you object?" he teased.

"No. It's just that I thought you liked only women but then, it was really men that you like," she answered, a little peeved that she might have been doing this with hi all for nothing.

"You're quite mistaken. I happen to like both. Why should I limit myself to only one kind, when I could have the other half?"

"You're rather greedy."

"Greedy? Maybe. Ah, if it was left up to me, I would have everyone loving each other: Elves, human, dwarves, men, women, Qunari and so on."

"But you're an assassin," she pointed out.

"It's true that I am an assassin. It is also true that death comes for us all, and I am only its humble messenger. I try to be quick and painless about it but alas, they always struggle."

It boggles the mind why they do. For Zevran is quite the expert in sticking things into people-be it daggers or his own member.

"Are you bothered by this?" he asked her.

"No. I just have a problem with you liking both at the same time."

"Oh," he said, watching Amadeus go by with a pang. "Then, if I have to choose, then I'd stay with the one who was most kind to me."

She smiled. "Then I'll have to remember that," she said and walked away.