4. A Favor

Loki approached Cousland as he set up the camp's central cookfire. "So... the Wardens help those in need... especially if those in need can, in turn, help the Wardens?"

Hadrian wrestled a stone into place. "Are we going to argue about this again, Morrigan?"

"No, I..." Actually, Loki was relieved the Wardens weren't as altruistic as they appeared on the surface. Now he could understand them better. And, of course, use this to his advantage. "I wanted to ask a favor."

Hadrian straightened and looked at her. "A favor? For you?"

"Has the world ended?" Alistair's voice came up from behind them. "Morrigan needs someone's help?"

This is why he hadn't wanted to ask the annoying Templar. Loki bit his tongue. He needed these simpletons' sympathy.

Durgan stomped over with an armful of branches. "This, I need to hear."

The three of them set aside their chores and stood to face Loki, who felt a twinge of... what? Trepidation? He just wasn't used to being shorter and smaller than anyone else. Well, Alistair and Hadrian, anyway. Though he still felt like a twig compared to the muscular dwarf.

He crossed his arms below his breasts and took a subconscious step backwards. "It's about...," he said, hesitating. Would using her name invoke her, or more likely, some sort of spell in the pendant? "It's about mother."

"Flemeth?" asked Alistair..

"Do I have another mother?" Loki snapped before he could stop himself.

"Go on," Cousland interrupted.

Loki took a breath and launched into his story. "The truth is... I wanted to join you on your quest for entirely selfish reasons."

"There's a big surprise," Alistair muttered. Durgan elbowed him.

"I was trying to escape my mother. But I have failed. Even now, her shadow lies over me." He touched the pendant at his throat. "The Wardens are powerful. You can defeat her, and free me from her clutches."

Durgan asked, "You want us to help you hide?"

"No," Loki said. "She'll be able to hunt me down wherever I go." He touched the cursed pendant. "The only way I can survive... She has to die."

Alistair scoffed. "So, for your favor... you want us to murder your mother?"

"She is no mere crone. You've heard the legends, I'm sure, about her being an ancient witch, even considered a god." So far, the geas hadn't stopped him from saying any of this. Good.

"She looks old enough," Durgan quipped. Hadrian shushed him.

"Mother's secret to her longevity is that... she raises a daughter, and when that child grows into a beautiful woman, she... she takes over her body." Loki turned away to hide his struggle to feign emotion.

"How do you know this?" Cousland asked.

A canny question. Loki had actually gotten the idea from some Dalish talking about this particular legend. "When I was younger, I found her grimoire. That's a magic book," he added, looking at Alistair.

"I know what a grimoire is."

Durgan muttered, "Now."

Alistair elbowed him back.

"In the book, there was a ritual. She... She's been molding me as her vessel. And when she's ready, she'll pour me out, like waste water on the ground, and take my body as her own, discarding me, like a dirty old rag." Loki channeled his rage at being trapped by Flemeth, his feelings of helplessness and impotence. Even his fear of being weak, being used. Enslaved. He let it show on his face.

The Wardens looked at each other, weighing their decision, while Loki ground his teeth.

"Really?" he growled. "First you pity me for never needing help, and then when I ask..." He threw up his arms in exasperation. "You can help every farmhand and lame child along your way, but not be bothered to help one of your own? Fine! I don't need you!" He turned away in disgust.

"Morrigan, wait," Alistair said abruptly. "That's a terrible fate. I wouldn't wish it on... well, anyone." He looked to his fellow Wardens. "We'll do it."

"We will?" Durgan asked. "You're going to take her word?"

"Flemeth is a dangerous apostate at the very least."

"We will do it," Cousland said, making up his mind.

"I..." Loki pushed the words through. "I thank you."

===#===

Loki paced and fretted. What if Flemeth killed them? No, fool. She needed the Wardens alive, at least. And Flemeth wouldn't kill him. He was the other half of this grand scheme of hers. He kept tugging at the cursed pendant, but no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't come loose. What was happening?

The Wardens didn't return until after dark. By then, the others began to worry. Well, Wynne, at least. Leliana assured them the Maker watched over the Wardens. Zevran affected nonchalance with his flippant, uncaring attitude. Sten... well, who knew what the giant was feeling?

No one commented when Loki joined them at the cook fire. They ate in silence.

Finally, the Wardens returned, just as Loki knew they must. Ferron bounded up to him, eager for a treat, and he obliged the mabari, once he'd calmed down.

"What happened?" he asked the somber Wardens. They did look stricken as they settled into their spots. What had Flemeth done to them?

Hadrian said, "We found... the remains of the Battle of Ostagar."

They told their tale, of fighting darkspawn, discovering the remains of their former king. Loki was practically spitting with impatience. Did they do all that, then fail to kill Flemeth? What happened there? But of course, Cousland had said they needed to keep that mission secret from the others. They couldn't talk about it.

Able to take no more emotion, Loki fled to his own tent.

Later, Cousland arrived. "I brought you this." He produced Flemeth's grimoire.

Loki blinked in shock. There actually was one? He took it. "And... mother?"

"Dead. It was difficult."

"I'm grateful, Hadrian."

He lingered. "Morri... it's been a terrible day. Would... Could I stay the night?"

Loki looked up sharply.

"No attachments, I swear. Same as before."

Ah, so the minxy witch had taken a taste. Loki was completely unprepared. Didn't the mortals want to mourn and grieve? Not fornicate. "I... I am grateful, but... I don't..." Did Cousland expect his compliance as payment? Well, he was no whore! "I need time to... process things."

"Oh, yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry." He left swiftly enough, to Loki's relief.

Then he looked over at the Grey Wardens, their faces painted in hard lines by the firelight. Why hadn't Flemeth's death released the geas? Had she planned for that contingency? Damn that witch! Maybe the answer lay within the large tome.

Loki opened it and groaned at the tiny spidery writing. Well, he knew what he'd be doing every night for a year.

===#===

5. Stupid

Loki pored over Flemeth's grimoire, carefully scanning the pages for different subjects, hoping to find the key to breaking the geas placed on him.

Suddenly, he found a familiar passage! He sat bolt upright on the camp stool. Flemeth did have a spell to commandeer the corporeal body of another! Legend didn't stray so far from the truth, then.

Worse, he discovered as he read in more detail, he'd played right into the witch's hands by plotting to kill her! "Argh!" Flemeth didn't have fake-Morrigan's body to use as a vessel, but he could easily guess what had happened to the real Morrigan after leaving the Wardens. He'd been tricked! He, the Trickster God! His first impulse was to hurl the book into the fire, but he yet needed it. Instead, he settled on beating his forehead against the pages. "Stupid! Stupid! Stuipd!"

"Who are you talking to?" said Alistair, walking over from the main camp.

"Sorry, did I summon you?" Loki snapped, bristling with annoyance at the Templar sneaking up on him.

"Ha ha," the man replied, not rising to the bait. "I just wanted to say... Well, to apologize, I guess."

"For what?"

"That crack about... you know, murdering Flemeth." Alistair pursed his lips, and his brow

creased in thought. "It was a terrible thing, what she planned to do. I don't care that she saved us at Ostagar. She probably did that for her own nefarious reasons."

You have no idea.

"She was a horrible creature, and I'm glad we killed her."

"Alistair!" Loki was genuinely shocked. "So bloodthirsty."

"Well, it's true. She was a monster, like any other we've encountered. And..." He hesitated.

"And?" Loki's curiosity was piqued.

"And I think I understand you, now. I could never figure out why you were always so callous and cold, and never cared about anyone. But now I see, you didn't have a loving family. Your mother treated you like a thing, and... well, I guess you never learned what caring really is."

Loki stared at him. "It still sounds like pity to me."

Alistair fidgeted nervously. "Look, all I'm saying is... You are a worthwhile person; you're just as important as anyone else, and caring about other people doesn't have to mean that you don't care about yourself, or that they don't care about you, or that somehow the caring will run out and there won't be any left or something."

"They don't care about me," Loki blurted. They said they did, his family, but he'd never felt it. Did it even exist? Anyone could say they loved you, but how would you know?

Alistair glanced back at the camp. "Maybe they don't know you. You could be a bit more sociable. Talk with people. Maybe. A little? I don't know."

Loki had been so reluctant to interact with the mortals, lest they realize he wasn't the real Morrigan. And what was the point of getting to know them - and care about them - when they'd die soon, anyway? But perhaps he'd been going about it all wrong. He knew they would perish soon, one way or another, so why be bothered by it? If he could get into their good graces, he could learn more about them and be better able to manipulate them. Besides, he was bored!

What did Flemeth's little machinations and plots matter? He could have some fun with this, make it a game.

"Perhaps I will," he said with a secret smile.

===#===

6. The Veil

Avernus' tower was inundated with demons that came through a tear in the Veil. Loki's ears perked. Flemeth had mentioned something about tearing a Veil to 'rescue' him from the Void. This tear might be a conduit out of this world, back to Asgard. Or... the possibility did exist that it would land him back in the Void, hopeless and alone. Either way, he would be beyond this world and Flemeth's power over him.

As a mage, Loki held the central point of the ritual to seal the Veil. Instead, he conspired to tear it further, to see how far he could go, how far this conduit could reach. Was that a glimpse of the shining bridge? His view was cut off by a wall of flames. Flaming demons clawed their way out of the floor, wave after wave.

"There's too many!" someone yelled. There were screams.

"Morrigan!" Wynne shouted. Loki didn't want to hear any accusations; he was almost through. "Look out!"

Something slammed into him, knocking him out of the circle of power. It was a demon; its burning claws ravaged Loki's body, cleaving and searing flesh. He screamed.

"The Veil is open!" Avernus' voice rang out in desperation.

Answered by Wynne's, "Close it! We must complete the ritual!"

The demon above Loki was torn away. Alistair cleaved its lumpy head from its body. "Get up!" He stood over Loki's body, shield raised. "Use a potion!"

Those damned potions they were always making him brew. He drew a vial out of his pouch and downed it. Then he shoved himself to his feet, and returned to the proper chant. The way home began to close, but he was probably dead anyway.

Then there was an explosion of light from the center of the room. Lightning arced from the center of the circle, lashing out with many tendrils. Demons screamed as the power tore through their bodies, leaping from one to another to many.

The light ceased, leaving afterimages in its wake, and a broad silhouetted figure with winged helm and heavy war hammer. "Loki!" Thor turned towards Avernus. "Cease this at once." He cocked Mjolnir back.

"No, you fool!" Loki yelled from his place in the circle. Durgan leapt between the Asgardian and the ancient mage, but the strout dwarf was swept aside, his own axe split asunder. Loki had no choice, no chance. He withdrew his power from the magical working and blasted Thor with pure cold energy, straight in the back of his head.

The god roared in pain and collapsed to the floor.

"Finish the ritual!" Wynne yelled.

===#===

When the Veil had been sealed, and the Wardens and companions had comported themselves with bandages and potions, they gathered around Thor's body.

"Who is he?" Alistair wondered. "He came out of the Fade, right? You all saw that?"

"Did you have to kill him?" Cousland asked Loki.

Of course Loki knew it would take more than that to kill a god, but he played along. "He attacked Avernus."

Hadrian looked to the old mage. "So who is he?"

"I have no idea."

Leliana said, "Perhaps there is a clue to his identity in his belongings." She knelt and gently removed Thor's helm, freeing his long golden hair.

"Yes," Zevran said eagerly. "Let us loot the body!" He wasted no time putting his hands all over Thor.

In the meantime, Sten went to where Mjolnir had landed, in the center of a huge crack in the flagstones. The giant grasped the hammer, but of course could not lift it. "It is... too heavy," Sten said in confusion.

Durgan scoffed. "It's superior dwarven make, that's why." He went confidently over to it. And had his confidence utterly shattered. "What in the name of the Stone?"

Loki pressed a hand to his forehead. "'Tis an enchanted weapon. Obviously."

Suddenly, Thor gasped and sat up, making Leliana and Zevran leap back with a yelp. "He is not as dead as he looks," the assassin reported.

Cousland waved him and the priestess back, so he could interrogate the newcomer. "Who are you? How did you get here? And why did you attack us?"

Thor stood. "I am Thor Odinson. I have come from Asgard, in search of my brother, Loki. He has fallen through the Void, and very likely has landed here, on your world."

"And the first thing you do is attack him?" Loki inserted. It was clear Thor had no idea who he was, and there was no way for him to tell. The Trickster carried on as Morrigan would.

"I was afraid he was perpetuating some villainy upon you."

"Sounds like a nice guy," Alistair quipped.

Cousland said, "And he looks like Avernus?"

"He does not. He is tall and dark-haired, lean of form, with sharp features."

"Then how did you mistake him?"

Thor said, "My brother is a powerful magic-wielder and shapeshifter, with a vile temperament."

Everyone looked at Loki.

He sighed. "Seriously?"

Leliana said, "Does Morrigan have to explain yet again how she is a woman?" Again? Loki wasn't sure how anyone could mistake Morrigan's curves, but no matter, now.

Alistair said, "She's been with us the whole time."

"Not the whole time," Durgan muttered.

"All right," Alistair allowed. "But trust me, that's the real Morrigan."

"My mother vouched for me," Loki said.

"This is true," Cousland agreed.

Thor nodded, pursing his lips. "Then I must search elsewhere, I fear."

Leliana said, "Perhaps we can help you."

Loki slapped a hand to his face. "Not this again."

Durgan said, "What would we even look for?"

"Any scoundrel or villainy."

"Hell, that's everybody," Hadrian said.

"Maybe Loghain is Loki," Alistair added.

Zevran had an opinion, too. "But we surely must aid our most handsome friend, si?"

"You two just want to ogle and drool over him," Loki accused the assassin and priestess.

"And your point is?"

"You can't just invite random people to the Wardens' party!"

Hadrian said, "I think we could use another powerful mage."

"I disagree," Sten said.

"As do I," Loki added.

"I am no mage," Thor said. "I am a warrior." He turned and took his helm from Leliana's numb fingers, while she... ogled and drooled over him.

Avernus said, "And all that lightning you were casting about?"

"I am the God of Thunder, Master of Storms."

And a total idiot who didn't know better than to go around saying such things to a people ignorant of Asgard's very existence. "Can't you see he's dangerous? As well as deranged?"

Coulsand said, "Yes, but we can use that. The Wardens-"

"Recruit anybody and everybody, yeah yeah," Durgan finished.

"You disagree?"

The dwarf sized up Thor. "I guess not."

Hadrian turned to the third of their trio. "Alistair?"

"Well, there are tales of arcane warriors in ancient times." He shrugged.

Wynne asked, "His delusion of godhood doesn't bother you?"

To which Lelania replied, "When in the asylum, do as the crazies do, no?"

"I vote we let him in!" Zevran cried.

"What is your quest?" Thor asked them. "I'm sure I can be of assistance."

"We are battling a horde of darkspawn spreading a blight across the land," Cousland said.

"Monsters such as these?"

"Those were demons, but, yes, that's the idea. Our goal is to slay the archdemon. That's a tainted dragon," he added at Thor's confused expression.

"Ah! I will help you, noble wyrm slayers."

"He can slay my worm," Zevran said lasciviously

Loki said, "You can't kill the archdemon."

"Nonsense!"

"It's not nonsense - it has to be a Grey Warden who strikes the killing blow."

Cousland turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"When the archdemon is slain, its spirit is not destroyed. It seeks out the nearest tainted being in which to re-manifest itself. It must be a Grey Warden, so the tainted spirit can be absorbed... and controlled."

"How do you know this?" Durgan asked. "We didn't hear about this."

"Mother told me."

"Oh, that's a reliable source," Alistair said.

"Trust me, if you let this idiot slay the archdemon, it will rise again." And all his planning and trickery would be for naught, and he'd have to go through it all over again!

Coulsand shook his head. "That's neither here nor there. Against darkspawn, he's eminently useful. He's in."

Loki groaned. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

Durgan said, "Then this should be familiar."

===X===