Sundermount

"I can't believe they found me here!" Alistair whispered. He, Carver and Varric were on their bellies looking over a ledge at a group of men who were talking about how they were going to assassinate someone. He was about to say they should go when one of the men spoke up.

"What did this Vael do? We're being paid a lot of coin to get rid of 'im."

Alistair drew his eyebrows together and turned toward Varric, who looked like he knew something.

Varric motioned that they should go back to their own camp first. Once there, a half-mile from the assassins camp, Varric explained, "The Vael's have run Starkhaven for generations. The Prince of Starkhaven is really the ruler … long story of semantics standing in for reason. Anyway, all of the Vael family was murdered recently … except one guy: Sebastian. He's a Brother in the Chantry in Kirkwall." Varric shrugged. "I guess whoever paid these guys wants the entire Vael family eliminated."

"That's horrible!" Bethany's eyes couldn't get any wider. "We need to go warn him!"

Carver shook his head. "This royalty thing is a lot more dangerous than I thought."

"Sunshine, I suspect he already knows. Besides, he's protected by Chantry guards and Templars … and the city guard. These guys don't know what they're in for." Varric chuckled nervously. He'd only recently found out that Bethany could shapeshift into a falcon. Mages who could be animals seemed to make Varric nervous. "You could fly back if you want, but we really shouldn't just hang around in one spot too long."

"Bethany, we've been on the road for almost a week." Alistair knew his sister. He knew she was determined and wouldn't be talked out of doing something she believed was right.

"Nah, she's going." Carver stated the obvious as the three males watched her pack her things.

"I can get back to Kirkwall in a day or so. I won't have to follow roads or climb hills." She grinned. "My legs were getting tired of climbing this mountain anyway." She hugged each of them and then said, "I know basically where you're headed. I'll catch up to you in four or five days. I'll also check in on Mother and Aveline … and Gamlen."

"Promise me you'll discuss your plan with Mother." It was Alistair's last chance to get Bethany to see reason. "We haven't set foot in the Chantry in Kirkwall yet."

"Yeah, Sunshine, Grand Cleric Elthina is a very nice lady, but she refuses to make her feelings known about either the Gallows or the Knight-Commander. In my book, Her Grace tends to turn a blind eye to controversy." The dwarf frowned. "Be very careful."

"That's the first time I've ever heard anyone criticize Elthina, Varric. Did you really feel that way even back then?" Cassandra looked surprised.

Varric shrugged. "Hey, Seeker, like I said she was a very nice lady, but even when Meredith was apparently off her rocker, Elthina refused to take any sides. Even if she had backed Meredith completely, I believe things would have turned out very, very different … better. And, yeah, indecision was Elthina's nature, apparent even when she was a Mother. No one in Kirkwall understood Elthina's appointment to Grand Cleric at the time."

"Hmm, I never knew that, but then Kirkwall wasn't an assignment for me." Cassandra leaned back against a desk. "By the way, does it get confusing for you to speak about yourself in the third person? It gets a little creepy for me."

"Heh, yeah, it does get confusing sometimes, but I thought I'd keep it like how I wrote the book. 'Varric' is just one of the characters," he replied with a chuckle.

Cassandra nodded. "Go on."

It had taken over a week before Bethany fluttered back. "Sebastian Vael had already left the Chantry. He's looking for his own assassins to get rid of the Flint Company … the guys we saw that night. He said he'd pay very well, if we wanted the job."

"Hello, Bethany. It's good to see you, too." Alistair laughed as he hugged his little sister.

Carver was more introspective. "I dunno. Wouldn't that make us assassins, too?"

She grinned at Carver. "That's just what I told him!" She actually blushed. "He was very embarrassed. Took me to dinner to apologize."

Alistair grinned back. "Bethany is smitten!" Then, he quickly narrowed his eyes. "Tell us about this guy."

Bethany's description of Sebastian Vael was interesting. In the looks department, he was handsome. In the manners department, he was very polite. However, she was frustrated at how determined he was for vengeance, although that was understandable. His feelings for Elthina were odd considering that he threw off his clerical duties so easily. "I think Elthina's been his surrogate mother, to be honest. If she asked him to jump off the Chantry roof, he would. Really … he would."

"So … not your type." Carver had a grin on his face.

Bethany frowned. "But … he has broken his vows to go after these assassins." She sighed and looked around. In a dimple-framed grin, she added, "Men."

Wanting to get to the crux of the matter, Varric asked, "How does he plan to stop the Flint Company? They're all over the Free Marches … one of the largest merc groups up here. Not all of them are assassins."

"I told him he just needed to pay them more." She blushed. "He was dumbfounded at first and then very appreciative of my idea. He hadn't ever thought of that. Apparently, neither had Elthina. She just wanted him to forget about the entire thing and let the Chantry protect him. He said he was going to try to contact their leader the next day with a counter-offer. I left before I could find out the result, but the assassins' camp we came across was empty. I flew along the road from Kirkwall to there and I didn't find any other camps. I hope he's all right."

Alistair smiled at his little sister. "At least, you can rest assured that you did the right thing, Bethany. Well done." He rubbed his hands together. "Now that you're back, we can have a decent meal!"

The Hawkes and Varric continued on toward where Varric's contact thought the Dalish camp was. Just as the weather was about to get really, really nasty, Alistair found himself at the business end of an arrow. He threw up his hands. "Not threatening here. Nope, not at all!" However, dangling at the end of his right hand was Flemeth's amulet. "Just need to deliver this amulet to Keeper Marethari."

One elf archer leaned toward the other. "I thought it would be an elf."

They were escorted to Marethari just as the rain started. She showed them to an empty aravel. "You can sleep here this evening. I'm afraid we will have to wait until tomorrow to perform the ritual with it." The Keeper's smiled was guarded but sincere.

"What ritual?" Carver always tended to cut through the niceties.

"It's a ritual to the Creator Mythal." She chuckled. "I'm not certain what that will do, but that is what I promised Asha'Bellanar." She smiled warmly at Alistair. "We all have promises to keep and debts to pay."

"Oh!" Bethany reached into her backpack. "We also brought a letter from Ariel. She's a fine Grey Warden now."

Wistfully, Marethari took the letter and whispered, "Some debts are definitely worth the cost." When the first gust of wind hit the side of the aravel, the Keeper looked at Alistair. "The Creators showed you the way here tonight or this empty aravel might have blown away. Since you'll be in it, it should be fine. I'll see you all in the morning." With that, she nodded and stepped out into the storm.

Alistair looked around. The inside seemed larger than it appeared on the outside … due to smart construction, not magic. In the middle was a low table with leather-covered pillows around it and two bunks — one over the other — on each end. No blankets on the bunk shelves, so bedrolls would have to do. "Well, claim your bunk and we can have a cold supper tonight."

"Dwarves and ladies get the lower bunks," Varric laughed as he quickly claimed one. "Tall lumbering humans get the top ones."

After Bethany threw her backpack on the other lower bunk, she said, "No need for a cold supper." She nodded to the center of the table where a stone bowl sat in a metal indention. A metal pan sat on top of rocks. "That looks to be the world's smallest fire pit. Alistair, if you would be so kind as to warm it up?" She opened several side pockets and produced some biscuits left over from that morning, a couple vegetables and left over stew from the night before. It was all coagulated and gross, but with a little heat from the now warmed stone bowl of the fire pit, it was a good meal.

"I'll never make fun of you keeping all the left overs again, Bethany." Carver grinned as he sopped up the gravy from the bottom of his bowl.

All she did was roll her eyes.

Alistair ate his share and went to stand at the door, trying to watch the storm without allowing the pouring rain to get inside through the slit in the leather door covering. "Do any of you know anything about Mythal?"

Varric thought for a moment. "Let's see. She leads that whole group with one of the other guys."

"Elgar'nan," Alistair whispered. He turned with a solemn look, "You may recall that I spent some time with Lanaya before we headed to Gwaren. She gave me a tour of the clan's camp and explained each of the Creators. Mythal's the one the Dalish pray to for protection or justice … which we've all seen turn to vengeance often enough … say, vengeance on an unjust husband … say, Conobar?" When no one interrupted he added, "Know how she's depicted? The clan had several statues sitting around their camp. Mythal's icon, if you will?" When no one answered that either after looking at each other. "Mythal is depicted … as a dragon or a woman with a dragon head and wings. Sound like anyone we know?"

"Pfft, Flemeth's just a shapeshifter, Brother." Carver belched loudly.

"Wait … you said Conobar? You've met Flemeth? The Flemeth?!" Varric would have jumped up if it wouldn't have been so difficult to get up from the floor in such a small space.

Bethany looked horrified. "I wondered how she managed to get close enough to a dragon to study it … but if she's already a dragon." After a quick intake of breath, "She even told you, Alistair, 'Maybe I am a dragon.' Maker!"

"Wait, wait, wait … you guys have seen Flemeth?! And lived?! Spill! This story will make up for the gag on the story about your father, Alistair." Varric was beside himself.

Surprisingly, it was Carver who told the story about Flemeth showing up in Zathrian's camp and helping them get to the outskirts of Gwaren. "And, she said that she and cities didn't get along, so we parted ways there … after making Alistair promise to deliver that amulet here." He nodded to the necklace fob that Alistair was staring at in his hand.

"She even admitted it was a phylactery," Alistair mumbled.

"What's a sodding phylactery?" Varric was looking a little nervous.

Alistair sat back down and laid the amulet out on the table. "It's magical storage of someone's blood … a piece of their soul. It can be used to find the person … as the Templars do to runaway mages." He took a deep breath. "Or, it can be used to reconstitute the mage if they die somewhere else." He looked at Varric. "Whether it's used by the Templars or by Mythal, it's blood magic."

"Shit. So, why did you bring that thing up here?!" Varric got up and sat on his bunk.

"We didn't know until just now that they were going to perform some kind of ritual on Mythal's altar." Alistair shrugged. "It's the first time I've considered that Flemeth might be Mythal." Then, he grinned. "Or, it could be nothing more than my overly-imaginative mind." A laugh followed the grin. "Heh! I got the storyteller!"

Varric tilted his head back and glared at Alistair through slitted eyes. "So, Junior was pulling my leg?"

Carver laughed. "Oh no. Everything I said was true."

The thunder and lightning started to die down and, as the steady rain started to beat on the roof of the aravel, Alistair yawned. "Well, I'm going to get a good night's sleep." He winked at Varric. "Just in case Mythal shows up tomorrow."

"The Champion really got you?" Cassandra actually had a smile on her face.

"Yeah, he did. I told you. Alistair Hawke is a great storyteller. The son-of-a-bitch used the backdrop of the weather to tell a scary story with an ancient monster in it." Varric returned the smile.

"So, what did happen the next day?"

Varric was curious the Seeker didn't refute that the Templars' use of phylacteries was blood magic … but that was a discussion for another time. For now, he simply shook his head and sighed. "Alistair might have thought he was telling a tale … but it turned out to be a prophecy."

The dragon spirit filled the entire space by the altar. Everyone had to step back as it was forming, but it didn't stay a dragon long. It slowly reformed into Flemeth. "Ah, I was hoping you wouldn't forget your promise."

"Son of a …" Varric growled under his breath.

The humans and Varric frowned at the ancient abomination. The twenty or so elves that had come along to help with the ritual took a knee. Flemeth walked up to Marethari. "Stand. The People bend knee too often."

After a moment of temporary paralysis, Alistair narrowed his eyes. "Who killed you?"

Flemeth laughed, but this time is sounded different … more actual amusement, less cackling. "My sweet daughter, Morrigan, convinced your warden friends that I needed to be eliminated." Her smile twisted a bit. "Imagine her surprise when she finds out it was all for naught."

Alistair deeply sighed. "So, I've unleashed you back upon an unsuspecting world."

She smiled. "True, but destiny awaits us both, dear boy. We have much to do." She stepped up to Alistair. "A word of advice: We stand on the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment and when it comes, do not be afraid to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

Leave it to Alistair to lighten the moment. "Cheap advice … from a dragon."

"Are we going to regret this?" Carver looked pretty nervous.

Flemeth turned her gaze to the twin. "I know regret well, young man. Take care not to cling to it too tightly, lest it poison your soul." Eerily, she then looked at Alistair. "When the time comes for your regrets, remember me." Then, before she shifted into a dragon and flew away, she added, "You have my thanks … and my sympathy."

"Well … shit." Varric realized he was holding Bianca and holstered her.

"You say that a lot." Bethany smiled at the dwarf.

Varric shrugged. "Maybe you guys just bring it out in me."

Marethari stepped up to Alistair. "Your debt is paid as is mine."

"Where will you go now?" Then, Alistair noticed Merrill starting to go up the mountain. "Where is she going?"

"This mountain holds many secrets. They call to us. The main job of the clan in places like this is to make certain Merrill and I don't get drawn in," Marethari answered quietly and nodded to one of the hunters who stopped Merrill and, along with several others, shepherded their First back down the mountain.

On the way, Marethari told Alistair about uthenera, the ancient elves "long sleep" when the world got to be too difficult to live in. Many of those ancient elves were rumored to be resting in well-hidden chambers on Sundermount.

"I've been feeling something a bit less esoteric, Marethari." When they got back to the clan's camp, Alistair decided to share his feelings. "There are bound demons on that mountain."

"Do demons call to you?" the Keeper asked.

"Yes, of course, all with the gift can hear that call … but never moreso than when we were up there." Alistair nodded his head back toward the path they had just descended.

She sighed and looked down. "There is much we do not know about our ancestors, Hawke. I suspect, just as we mortals have good and evil motivations, so did they. Just as many with the gift turn to demons for instruction today, so did they in ages past." She smiled sadly. "And, just as happens today, sometimes the demon asks for more than we should give."

He looked back up the mountain, the sun setting behind it. "Huh. So, maybe binding served to trap the ancient elves' demon masters when no other avenue was available?"

"Maybe, da'len."

Alistair turned back to Marethari. "Why did Flemeth make you come to such a dangerous place? She 'seemed' to regard you well."

"That altar was here. Perhaps her 'appointment' required it here." Marethari sighed. "She knew it was a danger for us to come, but she had her reasons." Then, the Keeper smiled. "And, she knew our clan would keep me and Merrill from harm." She patted Alistair on the shoulder. "But, we leave soon and so should you. I can teach you a few handy Dalish spells while the camp packs up."

AN: So, there you go ... and it only took me years to post! *totally embarrassed blush* This story doesn't have much more to go, actually. Why? What if ... the Champion AND the Hero of Ferelden AND the Warden-Commander of Ferelden don't mysteriously disappear?