They cross the huge clearing, partially surrounded by burnt and collapsed palisade walls. More mutilated bodies are scattered around the area amongst dead darkspawn. The snow is so saturated with blood from both sides that it's hard to imagine that it used to be pure white at one point. As they look around them at the carnage, Ana almost walks into Alistair as he comes to a sudden stop.
"Hey!" She begins to protest before she sees the reason for Alistair's pause. Among the bodies strewn everywhere lies a giant ogre, flies buzzing around its torn flesh which still has two blades sticking out of it. "Is that…?" She begins to say before trailing off. Alistair nods, attempting to swallow the lump that had formed at the back of his throat.
"That's it." He says, his voice thick with emotion. "That's the creature that killed our king and Duncan."
Ana stands there, gaping at the creature as her brother-warden reluctantly edges forward. Her eyes widen as she hisses his name. The creature is clearly dead and has been for some time, but the darkspawn they had first encountered when they entered the ruins was a genlock necromancer— which wore an eerily similar yet tarnished version of Cailan's golden armor— who had the frightening ability to make the dead rise once more to fight. After it had risen some slain darkspawn to fight, it had escaped and had yet to be seen again. With their luck, it could be hiding nearby in wait to spring out and raise some of their own fallen soldiers or other darkspawn to fight them off.
She glances around nervously while Alistair approaches the creature, his eyes falling on the familiar silverite sword and dagger embedded deep within the creature's chest. Using its massive arm, he climbs on top the creature and, as he attempts to dislodge his mentor's blades, a blood curdling screech comes from off in the distance. All three eyes shift towards the sound as they see the creepy grin of the necromancer from earlier. It raises its crude staff and a dark purple mist rises from the ground. The mist thickens to a fog, forming a barrier between the two wardens and Morrigan.
"Alistair!" Ana cries as her brother-warden disappears from her view. Her heart quickens as she hears the eerie groans from around her. She looks around helplessly looking around even though she sees nothing but darkness. The moment she unsheathes her sword, she feels something bone-like grab her boot. She swings wildly in the darkness, hoping it's not either of her companions trying to crawl their way back to her. At one point, she swings and feels her blade sink into what can only be flesh before she pulls it free. Her sword hand shakes as she spins around, unsure where the next thing will come from when she sees a faint ethereal-looking blue light barely peeking through the thick fog.
Again, she calls out for her companions and frantically cuts down things as they draw close enough to see their outline from the light. The fog slowly begins to dissipate and Ana is able to make out the undead soldiers drawing closer. Using the techniques Alistair showed her during their training exercises, she hacks and slashes at the corpses coming at her until there's a small pile of bodies collected around her feet.
Taking advantage of the small break from combat, Ana glances around in time to see a dark purple orb shoot out from the tip of the necromancer's staff and hit the fallen ogre just as Morrigan freezes it, it's staff still raised in the air. A low grumble emerges from the ogre and Ana notices Alistair still sitting atop it. Both wardens' eyes widen as the creature slowly begins to rise to its feet with Alistair dangling from the weapons inside it, holding on for dear life. The ogre checks its surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the warden helplessly dangling from its broad chest. Catching sight of Ana, it lets out a ferocious screech and runs at her, plucking her from where she stood within a matter of seconds.
Similar to what it did to Cailan, the creature shakes her violently making her head whip back and forth. Before it can make the killing blow that it had previously used to kill the king, its momentum is halted as Alistair frees the dagger from its chest and plunges it deep within its eye socket. It lets out a shriek and swings Ana around wildly before it releases her, sending her flying halfway across the clearing. Slamming back first into the large, gnarled trunk of a tree at the edge of the field, her head whips back and strikes the unforgiving wood before falling on top of a couple mangled corpses.
Dizzy and breathless, her vision blurs as she clings to the mass beneath her in an attempt to get her bearings. Meanwhile, Alistair is bucked around wildly as the ogre tosses its head and flails around in an attempt to throw the pest attached to him. The dagger dislodges and he falls back onto the bloodied snow, dodging the creature's enormous feet as it stomps around in pain.
Taking advantage as it turns away from him, Alistair scrambles to his feet and unsheathes his sword. With dagger and sword in hand, he lets out a battle cry and runs at the creature, lunging with the blades pointed outward. They sink deep within the heavy muscle and tissue of its upper back and it roars in pain as Alistair's weigh pulls them down, blood spraying as its innards are exposed. The ogre bucks and turns, reaching for Alistair in vain before his grip slips and he falls back onto the ground. Watching it stagger around, he crawls back over the fallen bodies just as it swivels and falls face-first to the ground, blackish blood oozing out of its wounds and sinking into the snow. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he falls back onto a half-frozen corpse of another darkspawn. Turning his head, he notices what he's lying on and quickly distances himself from it.
For a moment, everything is silent before a screech rings through the clearing making Alistair's head snap in its direction. Immobilized by Morrigan, the necromancer stands perfectly still as flames lick at its flesh, sending a revolting burning smell through the air before finally collapsing to the ground with a metallic clang.
Covering his nose and mouth with his arm, Alistair returns to his feet and walks over to the ogre and pulls out his sword from the creature's back. He wipes the blade on his boot and returns it to its scabbard before retrieving Duncan's dagger. As he used the bottom of his tabard to clean it, he placed it on his belt before looking at the creature once more. He pushes against its side, grunting with the effort. Morrigan shoots him an amused glance before she raises a hand and casually flicks it to the side.
Without warning, Alistair falls backward as the creature jerks upwards onto its side before slumping back down facing upwards. She cackles evilly from where she stands as he scrambles back to his feet. "A warning would have been nice." He mutters with a grimace, brushing off the guts and blood he fell into as a blush crept up to his cheeks.
Climbing on top of the creature once more, he casts a cursory glance around before working on freeing the sword from its chest. Once he pulls it free, he stands atop the creature and cleans the sword before hopping down. His gaze travels around the area, his mouth set in a determined line while he searches for his mentor's body. "That makes no sense…" He mutters with a frown. "This is where he…"
His gaze lands on a still Ana, draped over a few corpses off in the distance. "Ana." He breathes, sprinting over to her. "Ana!" He calls. Skidding to a stop, he sets Duncan's sword down and drops down beside her. "Ana…" He says again, tentatively shaking her shoulders. With no response, his heart begins to race and he takes out Duncan's dagger. "No, no, no...Ana please…." He pleads under his breath. Leaning over her, he angles the blade and feels relief as he sees that she's still breathing. Setting the dagger beside Duncan's sword, he shakes her again, once more saying her name.
Regaining consciousness, her head begins to throb as she opens her eyes before shutting them once more, instantly regretting it. A groan escapes from her and she becomes increasingly aware of somebody saying her name.
"Stop shaking me." She mutters.
A relieved smile forms on Alistair's face. "Oh thank the Maker, you're alive!"
"Alistair?" She croaks, not opening her eyes.
"I'm here." She hears him say softly. "Are you all right?"
She doesn't speak for a moment and he says her name once more. "Hm?"
"Are you all right?" He asks again, the worry evident in his voice. "Can you move?"
Carefully, she starts to move, wincing as she feels a sharp pain in the back of her skull and along her spine.
"Easy now." Alistair says, gently. "Take your time."
"We should probably get going before any more dead rise." Morrigan comments from off to the side, nonchalantly examining her darkly painted nails. Alistair glares at her but she doesn't notice. He turns his attention to Ana, his expression softening as he lowers his voice.
"Ana, I was so worried—" He begins.
Seeing the blood and guts on her and what she's lying on, a wave of nausea hits her and she turns away from Alistair and retches into the snow.
Grimacing, he looks away as Morrigan makes a disgusted noise. Once she seems finished, her arms she's leaning on buckles slightly and she feels Alistair grab her to stabilize her. "Come on. Let's get you up."
He helps her to her feet and she pulls away, clinging to the tree and leans her head against the cold trunk, closing her eyes. After checking that she's alright for the moment he picks up the sword and dagger from the snow once more and places the dagger in his belt and unsheathes his sword and replaces it with Duncan's.
"Those are your mentor's weapons, are they not?" Morrigan asks coolly.
"They are." Alistair mutters. "What of it?"
Her darkly painted lips turn upwards into a smirk. "Then I believe by taking them, you are, in your words, grave-robbing."
He shoots her a glare but says nothing as he walks past her towards the slain creature. "This is for you, Duncan." He whispers, shoving the blade into the ground beside the creature. Dropping down onto one knee, he kneels before it and bows his head to say a brief prayer to the Maker for Duncan. Once he rises, he wipes the tears that had begun to form and takes a deep breath before turning on his heel. Returning to Ana, who hasn't moved since he left her, he leans close to the tree. "Ana?"
"Hm?" She mutters, not opening her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, stepping forward in case she falls over.
"Terrible." She mutters.
"Can you at least walk?"
She says nothing for a moment before nodding. "I think so."
Putting her arm around his neck, he helps her away from the trees and pile of corpses before her legs give out once more. He helps her up once more before she collapses once more.
"Perhaps we should just leave her?" Morrigan offers, jokingly. Her grin falls as Alistair glares at her before he kneels and picks Ana up in his arms.
"I can…walk." Ana weakly protests.
"Somehow I doubt that since you can barely stand." Alistair retorts. He glances at Morrigan. "Seems we'll have to gather what we can and make camp sooner than expected tonight." He looks down at Ana who has passed out once more. "She needs to get some rest. Hopefully she'll be feeling better tomorrow. She hit her head pretty hard."
"There's a clearing not far from here that will suffice." Morrigan says, turning and beginning to walk back through the ruins.
"What about tents?" Alistair calls to her as he tries to catch up.
"I already have what we need for tonight." She says with a dismissive wave.
By nightfall, they had made camp about a mile and a half away from Ostagar. Ana floated in and out of consciousness while Alistair set up the tent that Morrigan had taken from camp and had, somehow, stored it amongst other things. When asked about it, she simply smirked and told him it was none of his concern. Flemeth has graciously provided them with some lumpy bedrolls which Alistair set Ana on while Morrigan set off to gather firewood. With the witch's absence, he sat in the tent beside his sister-warden ensuring to check every so often if she was still breathing.
At one point, after leaning down close enough to hear her light breathing, he took a moment to really look at her. He moved a piece of dark brown hair from her face and took in her noble high cheekbones, full lips and solemn expression. His gaze swept over her face, taking in the scrapes and slight bruising that had begun to form from her encounter with the ogre. A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth as his eyes slip down toward her split lower lip. She's been so much recently. If I could kiss away the hurt, I would. Their shared kiss in the Warden dormitory tent resurfaces in his mind. As soon as he thought it, his eyes widen as he's reminded of the countless lectures he endured on such manners in the Chantry. Cheek reddening, he quickly pulls away with a muttered apology.
A groan emits from his fellow warden and his head snaps in her direction. "Ana?" He says softly, leaning down once more to hear a whispered reply. As he waits for a response, he jumps as the flaps of the tent open and a dark-haired head pops in.
"Again! A warning would be nice!" He hisses.
Looking between them, she raises a perfectly sculpted brow. "Have I interrupted something?" She asks, a smug grin spreading around her face as his blushing deepens.
"No! She groaned and I was listening for a response." He says quickly, averting his gaze. He shakes his head in an attempt to shed the thoughts from earlier. "What do you want?"
She casts a quick glance at Ana's still form before thrusting a couple of rabbits onto his lap. "The fire is ready." She says coolly before ducking back out of the tent. "You may cook tonight."
Casting a final glance at Ana, he lets out an annoyed sigh and exits the tent. "You know, you could be a bit more—" He starts to complain only to find her nowhere in sight. His brows furrow as he looks around in confusion. Muttering a curse under his breath, he shakes his head and sits down, getting started on the rabbits.
It wasn't until the rabbits had been skinned, gutted and cooked before Morrigan finally saunters back into camp. Alistair looks across the flames at her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where did you suddenly disappear off to?"
Tearing off a haunch from one of the rabbits lying in the pan she says nothing.
"Hello?"
Taking a bite of her food, her golden eyes shift up to look at him, the fire making them glow even more than normal. "That's none of your concern."
"You say that about everything." He growls, lifting his food up to his mouth. "Have you ever thought—"
"Do you two ever shut up?"
Both turn to look as Ana, pale and looking as though she's about to pass out, slowly walks toward them. Setting his tin plate aside, he jumps to his feet to help her, but she slaps his hands away. "Don't touch me." She sneers.
Withdrawing his hands, he frowns. "I didn't expect you to wake up so soon."
"Hard not to when you two are bickering back and forth." Ana mutters, wincing as she lowers herself to the cold ground. Alistair offers her some rabbit which she waves away, still tasting the bile that came up earlier in her mouth. "Do we have anything to drink?" She asks, looking around.
"Are you going to retch again?" Morrigan mocks her with a grimace.
Ana shoots her a glare as Alistair hands her his water pouch. "Actually, I was thinking about doing that on you once you go to sleep." Morrigan wrinkles her nose and Ana smirks before she wiping the spout of the pouch and taking a long swig.
"How are you feeling?" Alistair asks her, reaching for the pouch as she hands it back. His hand touches hers and she instantly retracts it.
"My head still feels like I took a warhammer to the head, my entire back hurts and I constantly feel like I'm going to throw up." Ana frowns. "Other than that, I feel fantastic."
Alistair snorts as he turns to Morrigan. "As a mage, you can heal her, right?"
She raises a brow. "For somebody who used to be a templar, you really don't know anything about mages, do you?"
Feeling both women's gazes on him, he averts his gaze. "I wasn't a templar." He mutters. "I never took my vows." He lets out a frustrated sigh. "That doesn't matter. Can you or can't you?"
"Not all mages can heal." Morrigan retorts. "I am one such mage who never learned that school of magic." Her golden gaze flicks over to Ana. "I can, however, mix various potions, tonics, salves and various other things." She smirks. "Growing up in the wilds has its advantages."
"Can you make something for my head and/or back?" Ana asks, anxious to rid herself of the pain. "I would greatly appreciate it."
Seeing that the tables of power have shifted, Morrigan gives a nonchalant shrug as she rises to her feet. "Perhaps. If you have the right ingredients."
"We'll find whatever you need." With some difficulty, she also rises so that she can look Morrigan in the eyes. "Just please…make this go away."
"We'll see."