18 August (day 62), noon and later

Wynne cleared me to write. And had Alistair give me back the journal. Neria gave me back the pen. Zevran was hiding the ink. So with that in mind:

We turned off the lake road first thing this morning and picked up a new one heading west. It also heads up. We've been climbing steadily into the hills all day. Glad we've got Bill doing the heavy lifting for us, but it seems like a light load for him. Her. There's a beautiful view of the lake behind us; I can't wait to see the sunrise tomorrow.

But in the interest of keeping up with what needs to be kept up with here's what happened last night:

[questioning hiss]

"Yeah. We're taking a walk."

I summoned the rifle and ammo and headed down the road. It took a while, but I had a pretty good idea what I was going to eventually run into and I wasn't disappointed. The sand and rocks soon gave way to grass and trees and I ended up on the small bluff below which we'd set up camp. It wasn't daylight, but it wasn't dark, either. I could clearly see the major stuff: the fire, the tents, big trees, Bill's cart (but no Bill). And two fairly confused mages. Morrigan and Wynne were standing by the fire pit radiating that same realness that Keenan (and Irving and Neria) had the first time I'd seen him.

I backed up off the edge of the bluff. "I think you better stay here. At least until I call you." I followed that up with some hand gestures.

Thing hissed back to me and hunkered down.

"Wish me luck."

[hiss]

I double-checked the rifle and made sure it was safed then headed down to the camp.

Morrigan was the first to spot me. "Well, well. This is most peculiar. It seems you were not exaggerating after all."

Wynne gave me a stare that could have melted iron. "I told you not to do this." Her voice could have cooled it back down.

I stared right back. "No, you didn't."

"We agreed that you would exercise this talent under supervision."

"You may have agreed to that but I didn't."

"You don't understand the dangers of the Fade."

I patted the M16. "I understand them well enough to bring this."

Wynne seemed to notice the rifle for the first time. "Well, if that's a…weapon…then, yes, you've taken a small precaution."

"If," Morrigan interrupted, "you two have finished bickering I think you should know we have a visitor." She was looking back over my shoulder.

I shut up and spun around but kept the rifle down. I was pretty sure Thing hadn't come down. He hadn't.

"'Tis but a rage demon. No doubt it was attracted by your calm demeanor."

Wynne hmmphed in reply.

The demon was gliding closer and I was feeling a bit nervous. "Are either of you planning on taking care of it?"

Wynne snorted angrily and sent a huge ball of rock and earth at the demon. Morrigan followed up by icing the thing. Wynne hit it again and the demon shattered.

I was impressed. That was a lot quicker than assault rifle fire. I was also confused. "How does that even work here?" I asked as I turned back around.

"Magic," Morrigan laughed. "But the better question is how and why you are here?" She strolled up to me in that casually dangerous way of hers. "Dressed strangely, although not for you." (Jeans and a t-shirt.) She gave the rifle a long look. "And what are you carrying?" She didn't wait for me to answer but turned back to Wynne. "'Tis probably no demon."

"Thanks."

Wynne waved a hand at me. "Look at him; he's…far too…right to be a demon."

"'Far too right'? That was not how you described me when I rescued you from the Fade."

Wynne flushed. Somehow. "We're not to speak of that."

"Very well." Morrigan spun back to me. Her form blurred slightly as she spun. She ended up with one hand on the back of my head and the other pressing a knife to my throat.

"Morrigan!"

"So if you are who you appear to be tell me: what happened when I took you into my tent so many nights ago?"

For some stupid reason I wasn't scared. "Well, if I remember correctly…you robbed me of the will to live, drained my blood to make tea, reanimated my corpse to inflict pain and terror upon your enemies, and used my soul as a placeholder in your spellbook."

Wynne inhaled sharply.

Morrigan laughed and withdrew the knife. "'Tis you."

"Who were you expecting?"

Morrigan shrugged. "The Fade can be a deceitful place. And this-" She waved at the camp. "-is certainly unique in my experience. At least outside the realm of a sloth demon."

"And mine," Wynne stated, "but you don't see me holding a knife to Jeff's throat."

Morrigan kept her eyes locked on mine. "I was not holding a knife to Jeff's throat."

I knew what she meant. Apparently so did Wynne because she frowned, crossed her arms, and gave Morrigan a sharp nod.

"Now that we have settled your identity perhaps we should deal with the other demon that has been watching us."

"Uh, what?" I spun around in place. Thing wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Demon?" Wynne asked. "Where."

"'Tis hiding over there." Morrigan waved her hand in roughly the direction I'd entered the dream-camp from. "It has been observing us at least since Jeff's arrival."

And I'd thought I was alone when I walked up. "That's not reassuring."

"And it shouldn't be. You need-"

"Demon!" Morrigan called. "Show yourself!"

I had a thought. I looked up towards the brush Thing was concealed in; it was at about eight o'clock from where Morrigan was facing. "Thing! You still there?"

[loud, affirmative hiss]

Both Morrigan and Wynne started.

I held up hand. "Stay there for now."

[loud hiss]

"Was that the bishgu? I'd hoped to see it."

We turned as one towards the new speaker. A desire demon strutted into sight as it alternated looking at Thing's hiding place and my subconscious. It locked its eyes on mine and shifted into an impossibly top-heavy and curvaceous Morrigan.

Wynne snickered.

Morrigan turned to me. "I trust this is not how you see me." She must have been in a good mood because she sounded amused.

I was half-facepalming while considering D-Morrigan's clothing. "How does that even work?"

The demon stopped walking. "Is this not appealing?"

"Confusing maybe."

"I see. Perhaps a different form…." It shifted into Leliana without changing anything but the head and the complexion.

Morrigan snickered.

I just stared.

The demon looked confused then the rags shifted into leathers. The body was still impressively curved rather than leanly muscled. "Better?"

I shook my head. "You…just…don't get it…do you?"

Wynne spoke quietly. "Demons see our world in the briefest of glimpses. They understand little of it and show us-"

D-Leliana's face showed anger. "We understand more of your realm than you know. But we are forced to see through the reflections of your understandings. Or in some cases-" She was still staring at me. "-your desires." Another ripple and Wynne was standing there wearing Leliana's leathers.

Morrigan snorted.

Wynne hissed. "Enough, creature."

I finished my facepalm. "Oy gevalt."

Wynne continued angrily. "They see, but they don't understand."

"Mother said they understand more than they know. Although I doubt that is true with this example." Morrigan was biting back laughter at the confused demon and the indignant Wynne. And me, too, because she leaned in and whispered a single word.

"No!"

"Too late," Morrigan said with a chuckle.

"Another form?" The demon sounded indignant itself. "You have…many desires."

I refused to look at however it was interpreting Neria. "You can read my desires?"

"Of course. I…seek them."

"Then you should know I desire to not be embarrassed anymore!"

Morrigan laughed again. I heard a quiet cough from Wynne.

The demon huffed then spoke. "This form is…harder to reach, but meets your desire."

"Now that is interesting." Morrigan didn't have any laughter in her voice.

"Who is that?" Wynne asked..

I peeked through my fingers at the petite red-haired woman the demon was mimicking. The proportions were still completely wrong, although they were more realistic. She was wearing jeans and a Vaarsuvius t-shirt. "Next," I said flatly and deliberately pictured Gillian Anderson.

"You have a preference for red hair," Morrigan stated a few seconds later.

I glanced at Morrigan. "I'm surprised she hasn't picked up on my thing for boots." That earned me a flicker of a smile. I returned my attention to the demon. "But what I'm wondering is why so shallow? Why are you only trying to tempt me with…this?"

Agent Scully looked confused. "Because this is what you want."

I looked back to Wynne. "And people fall for this?"

"Desires are powerful things. And it's not often that one faces a demon with the help of others."

"But can't she…do better?" Back to the demon. "I don't know how you usually do things, but this…isn't working."

"You want me." Scully sounded a bit desperate.

"I know what I want but you're just scratching the surface."

"You do not know what you want." A perfectly formed Amy Pond stepped into view from behind Scully. She looked at me with such a hungry expression that I took a step backwards. She flung something towards us; a black and yellow book landed on the ground. "But have I delved deeply enough for you?"

Scully turned around and screeched, "No! I was here first!"

"So you were," the Pond said dismissively, "and you're letting him play tricks with you." She moved with supernatural speed and caught Scully by the arm. Both 'ladies' shimmered and settled back into their natural forms. The second demon kept shimmering, though, and ended up posing as Amy again. "Please," she said intensely, "pardon…my…sister. She is inexperienced."

The first demon screeched again in wordless outrage.

Pond actually began dragging the demon away. No small feat considering the muscles and flailing claws suddenly on display. "Come, sister. Let us leave him with his companions for the moment. We'll find him another time." She gave me a toothy smile. I'm not positive the teeth were human. She turned, screeched sharply, bore down, and the two demons disappeared from sight.

Wynne's voice was shaky. "That second demon is a predator. An experienced predator."

My voice was shaky, too. "I totally agree."

Morrigan was more interested in the book it'd dropped and was kneeling by it. "Do not give into her temptations and you will be well. But this is…different." She sounded fine, if a little distracted.

I stepped over and took a look at the cover: The Fade for Dummies.

Wynne stepped up behind me. "Hmm. An appropriate title, no? Morrigan! I think that's a bad idea." Her voice was still a little shaky.

The witch had been reaching for the book but stopped. "Perhaps you are right." She looked at me. "I think the demon intended it for you."

Wynne didn't have to warn me. "I ain't touching it!" I wasn't sure I didn't want it, but that was a different problem. I looked to my companions. "So now what?"

The ladies looked around, at each other, and then at me.

"What do you…usually do?" Wynne asked.

"Well, um, this is about it. So unless you want to meet Thing I don't-"

"Let's save that for another time. I've all the surprises I care to have for this evening."

Morrigan snorted.

"You disagree."

"I do. Who knows when we shall have another opportunity such as this?"

I raised a hand. "Me. I'll end up here again in a few days. And I'll probably drag you along with me again."

"I was speaking rhetorically."

"I know."

Wynne suddenly looked and sounded impatient. "So we're to just sit here and bicker?"

"Unless you wanna play chess."

"Bickering is fine."

Morrigan was still eyeing the book while holding a ball of fire in her hand. "We should deal with this first." She nodded to me. "With your permission; after all, 'tis yours."

I really wanted to at least see the table of contents. "Do it."


In case you're wondering the redhead in the OotS t-shirt was the demon's interpretation of my wife. I don't think I felt any desire when I saw it, but I certainly felt pissed. I think. Quite a bit homesick. Definitely betrayed by my own thoughts. Somehow the demon had reached below the surface and found a nugget of something a bit more nuanced than simple lust.

Wynne picked up on that. "Who was she?"

Remember what I'd said about just pushing the inconvenient emotions aside? "Who was who?"

Wynne wasn't buying it. "The woman with clothes like yours."

"A…. a girl named Amy." She'd also been wearing jeans, and, frankly, whatever digging the second demon had done to come up with her and the book made me very nervous.

"So you know her?"

"I do."

"From your home?"

"Yes."

"She's important to you."

"Not as much as you'd think."

"Jeff…."

I let the silence hang.

"However unimportant you think she is..." Even in the dark I could see Wynne's lips pressed together. "The demon thought she was important enough to you-" Wynne stopped and put a hand out to me.

I suppressed a flinch. "Not important enough that I need to talk about it."

Her hand rested lightly on my arm. "The demon found a weakness and it will use it to subvert you."

"Only if I let it."

Wynne let the silence hang.

So did I.

"You're only fooling yourself," she finally said.

"I know."

Sigh. "Fine. But I'm here if you want to talk." Wynne turned to go.

I waited for her to get out of earshot. "I know, but I don't wanna talk." Instead I'll just throw this down into the hole with the rest of the emotional baggage. It's getting pretty full, but it's nowhere near critical mass.

Yet.


19 August (day 63), mid-afternoon

Gherlen's Pass is a little village sitting on a fork in the road on a large and relatively level spot in the mountains. If you're heading to Orlais the road levels off and appears to stay that way for a while. The route to Orzammar, OTOH, is more of what we've been dealing with: a decent, but steadily climbing road, at least from what I can tell so far.

We stopped for a hot, but ultimately, unsatisfying lunch that was more edible and less digestible than it sounds. I didn't want it to not sit well so I left quite a bit that Alistair or Cullen or somebody would probably eat and went out for a walk. Yeah, I know, but what I wanted to do was actually look at things, not just walk past them.

I walked in a circle around the little settlement and ended up at the fork in the road. Somebody somewhen had taken the time to mark out the obvious. There was a flattened sheet of stone set upright and half-buried next to a boulder. Somebody had carved 'Orlay' [sic] and 'Ores Hammer' [also sic] and a couple of arrows pointing in the right directions. The carvings are old enough that there's not a single sharp edge left to them. The only reason they're still legible is because of the depth at which they'd been originally and neatly cut.

I glanced at the road to Orzammar but decided to take a closer look at the road heading to Orlais. It follows the best path across the plateau and runs more or less level until it gets out of sight. Way off in the distance I could see a dark blur slowly making its way towards me; except for some hawks that was the only sign of life out there. Still a nice view, though. I found a seat and just sat there and soaked it up and let myself fall into the moment.

Zevran's voice roused me out of my state. "There he is." He stopped and stood next to me, but not until he'd tsked at the marker.

Alistair stepped on the other side and bumped me. "Jeff. You weren't thinking of running off to Orlais on us, were you?"

I stood up and stretched but kept looking out through the valley. "It's supposed to be nice there in the fall, isn't it?"

"That's what I've heard."

"Oh, but it is lovely, mio amico. The weather cools and the streets come alive and stay so all day. And at night, well, the ladies look for ways to keep warm."

Alistair chuckled. "Which you're more than happy to provide them, I suppose."

"Oh, si!"

I chuckled myself. "Sounds nice. Anybody up for another side trip?"

Alistair shot me a look. "You know, Jeff, sometimes I can't tell if you're joking about things or not."

"And that's why I like playing cards with you."

Zevran laughed. "That is why the rest of us enjoy playing with both of you. Jeff doesn't know the game; Alistair doesn't know the players. Soldi facili."

"You know," Alistair said in an attempt to be menacing, "there are two large and well-armed men standing next to you. And you've taken coin from both of them."

"But I've done so honestly. Don't forget that." Zevran bowed slightly. "Perhaps we should play again tonight. You might win your money back."

"I think we both know better than that."

"I'll play," I said. "But I'm not totally stupid. Small stakes only."

"So you're not going to Orlais?" Alistair teased.

"Not right now." Sometime during the few minutes of staring at the road to Orlais I'd decided that my place is with this ragtag bunch of sociopaths that I'm one of. Don't know why. I've got a pouch full of cash and a head full of ideas. All I'd have to do was grab my gear and start walking to Orlais or somewhere else where I could be safe and comfortable. Or I could stay with the group and throw myself into a nightmare from which I might not wake up. I was at a physical and metaphorical fork in the road. I needed to decide if I wanted to try to dodge fate or give in and accept what it had in store for me. Fate had worked with me once back at Lothering, and probably in other places over the last couple of months. That didn't mean it would keep working for me. But, suddenly, somewhere in the back of my brain, the mental coin finally stopped spinning and came up heads. And I was cool with that. Besides, if I embrace the situation and play the game (so to speak) I might get that chance to get home. So, somehow, I need to stop wangsting and lean forward and embrace the opportunity I'm being given. Or having thrown at me. Or being thrown into.

Besides, I like Alistair. He's a good guy and I don't wanna let him down.

And maybe that's what it all comes down to.

Anyway…

Zevran raised an eyebrow. "A bout of madness?"

I shrugged with my entire torso and both arms. "Clarity, maybe."

"One can be mad and yet see clearly at the same time."

"True." Especially knowing everything that lies ahead.

"I think I missed something." Alistair sounded confused.

"Some time ago Jeff and I concluded that the truly sane course of action for us was to leave Ferelden. To flee to a zona proteta somewhere in the north and far from the Blight."

Alistair looked a little concerned and a wee bit angry. "But…. I don't understand; you're still here. With us. Both of you. And you're thinking about…running away?"

"Si, but I have pledged my life to Neria, and though I am many things, I am a man of my word."

"Didn't you pledge your life to the Crows first? Don't answer that." Alistair turned worried eyes to me. "And-"

"I've only thought about running off. But don't worry. I've decided I'm sticking with you as long I can."

Worry turned to skepticism. "Really?"

"Really. I promise. You're gonna have to put up with me complaining about that stupid cheese for a while longer."

Skepticism still flickered across Alistair's face. "Really?" At my nod he added, "Pinky swear? Provided you're willing to put up with the cheese, of course."

Zevran snorted. "In truth? Pinky swear?"

"Quiet you! So…?" Alistair held out his little finger.

I looked at his finger for a few very long seconds. "You sure? I mean-" I patted my sword. "-I'm not sure how much I'm contributing."

Skepticism turned into earnestness. Or something like that. "You're doing fine. And I'm, uh, glad to have you here."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yeah. I do."

That was good enough for me. I locked my eyes and pinkie with Alistair's. "Then I got your back as long as you want me to."

Alistair gave me a grin as earnestness turned to relief. "It might be for a while. But don't worry; that cheese is almost gone."

"Ah! Fereldens. Had I known it was so easy to gain your trust-"

I unlocked pinkies and eyeballed Zevran. "Not sure if you noticed but I'm not Ferelden."

Alistair was still grinning. "The accent must have confused you. Oh, and try not to kill people when you first meet them. That tends to put a sour note on a budding relationship."

Zevran chuckled.

"So," Alistair asked as we turned to head back to the little tavern, "the two of you think we're crazy?"

"Oh no, mio amico." I could hear the grin in Zevran's voice. "I know we are."

"Hmm. Jeff?"

"I agree with Zevran. But I figure I've come this far so I might as well keep running with it."

Alistair hmmed again. Then suddenly he laughed and slapped me on the back so hard I stumbled. "That's the spirit!"


20 August (day 64), morning

"I know we haven't seen anything the last couple of days, but there's got to be more of Loghain's troops out there in front of us." I looked around at the group and waved my hands in frustration. This was the third time around on this argument. I was trying to avoid our walking into the ambush that should be waiting for us at Orzammar. "The platoon we fought; they said they represented the King, right?"

Morrigan looked up from where she was tightening a cord on her staff. "I do not doubt you. But they were the only men of the King's – or Loghain's – that we have seen."

"And that's my point. Why would they be the only ones running around out here?"

"Your logic is sound-"

"Thank you."

"-but there are no facts to support it. The merchant we encountered yesterday had seen no soldiers of Loghain. Or of any other noble."

Sigh.

"No," Neria finally said. "When Jeffrey gives us a warning he's usually right. His…hunches were right in Denerim. I told you all about that."

"And that is why I do not doubt him. Well, his sincerity. But we have seen nothing of-"

"Morrigan, I know this is tiring for you, but can you…?" Neria was hesitant to come right out and mention Morrigan's shapeshifting, but we all knew what she meant.

"'Tis tiring, but if you insist…."

"Please. And you won't have guard at night."

Morrigan inclined her head. "Very well."

Neria looked around at us. "Thank you. Truly."

Morrigan inclined her head. "And now you should see to Sten."

The big guy was standing a respectful distance away. But probably close enough that he could hear what we were talking about.

Neria sighed. "Scheisse." I'm rubbing off on her. "Yes, Sten?"

"I would speak with you privately, Warden."

"We need to get packed up."

"This will take but a moment."

I stepped in before Sten could continue. "Neria. Thanks for, uh, believing me."

She just gave me a quick smile and turned to Sten.

"Warden, I take issue with your use of the boss seraboss' abilities."

Neria shook her head as she started walking back towards the main camp. "Sten, we've been over this before…."

I turned back to Morrigan. "Just wanted to thank you for doing this. The recon – well, actually, for helping out in the Fade, too, I guess."

Morrigan lifted an eyebrow. "'Recon'?"

"Scouting."

"I see." She filed that nugget of info away. "The recon is at Neria's behest, but I suppose your caution is prudent. As for the Fade: I still have no answers for you, although I have considered a test of sorts. And the next time we are together there I would meet this Thing of yours."

"Sorry about that. He must have gotten bored."

Her mouth twitched. "I do not blame him. And Wynne: has she any new insights?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "She made me drink lyrium last night then sit and meditate."

Another eyebrow. "And?"

"Lyrium potions taste like metal. Took forever to get rid of the taste."

The eyebrow came back down.

"Nothing else."

"I would have thought not, but 'twas an interesting idea."

I just shook my head.

"You disagree?"

"No, but…. I don't know. I just don't think that…whatever's going with me is…magery. Ugh, is that even a word?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Or if it is…." I did the huffing for a change. "I don't know. We just keep going around in circles on this and don't come up with any new answers. Sorry I bothered you."

"Do not be. Your curiosity is refreshing, and your frustration is understandable. Now leave me be; I would rest for a moment before we strike out again." Morrigan laid her staff aside.

"Sure. Uh, did you need any help packing up?"

Morrigan gave me a strange look. "My thanks, but no. Go help your shield-mate."


Evening

Not looking forward to the Deep Roads, but maybe there's a way around that. I just had a ding moment. Maybe I can create a Paragon. Details to follow.


A/N: I'll have some with the next chapter.