Chapter 88: My Choice
Night finally fell on the warden's camp.
The mood was tense, they had only just returned from Ostagar, having taken care of the last few bits of business there. The group had piled the bodies of the fallen grey wardens, the ones raised by the necromancer. Alistair did not want to think about his brothers remaining where they fell, a meal for crows and wolves. The funeral pyre sent great gouts of flame into the darkening sky, honoring the brave warriors who had fallen here.
Of Duncan, they found no sign, Alim wondered if the darkspawn had dragged off his body. He hoped not. Duncan deserved better than to be pawed at by those monsters. Though they did manage to recover his sword and dagger, at least, Alistair thought it was his, from the chest of the ogre that had risen up against them during the necromancer's trap.
Next, for Alistair anyway, came an even more personal task, one he felt that he owed his absentee father, and his lost stepmother.
The group cut down Cailan's corpse, at the base of the tower of Ishal, they built a cairn fit for a royal funeral, the fallen king wrapped in what remained of his royal tent.
It was Alistair who lit the pyre while the others watched, most had not fought here, but they all understood the value of honoring this moment.
Morrigan stay close to Alistair, not really touching him, but letting him know she was there.
Alim had let out a shuddering breath, it had been a long day, long and bloody, and he was eager to finally be away from this foul place.
Leliana had not attended the thrown together funerals; instead she had remained with Wynne in their camp. The old woman had still not awakened after her…rather…extreme display of power.
The elf felt his fingers tighten around his staff. He did not like being deceived or lied to, true Wynne had technically done neither, but after what he had seen…
He knew that the elder mage had not told him everything that had happened in the tower.
The group stood divided on the situation, Kally, Leliana, and Fergus were clearly worried about the old woman's welfare, while Seri and Morrigan practiced a kind of indifference on the matter.
Whatever their position, it did not matter; Wynne had some explaining to do when she woke up…
Alim's ears lowered slightly.
If…she woke up.
IOI
"What if the old one dies?"
The question had come from Theron; the Dalish had been quiet up until now, not really understanding what he had seen.
Seri shrugged, as she sharpened her sword by the fire.
"If she dies, she dies," the dwarf said, "It is not our place to question the will of the ancestors."
Kally glared at her, her one good eye piercing the dwarf like an arrow.
"How can you be so cold about this?" she demanded, "Wynne is a friend, she has stood beside us, fought and bled beside us. She deserves better than that!"
The former princess shook her head.
"You're not a soldier elf; I would not expect you to understand," she continued, "Soldiers die in war that is simply the way it is. We have been lucky up to this point. This group of misfits has grown quickly without losing a single fighter. We should be thanking the stone that we have gotten that far."
IOI
Leliana, who had been idly strumming her lute, trying in vain to tune it glared at the dwarven woman.
Lost no one had they?
She did not know of what she spoke.
It was not as simple as the dwarf thought.
"But we have lost someone," she said coldly, "Back before most of you joined. A…a Dalish girl, a huntress had joined us, she…she was trying to help us free her people from a terrible curse…"
Leliana shivered, Belle's face seemed to dance before her eyes. It seemed so long ago now, that moment in the werewolves' lair, she had stayed with the girl did her best to comfort her as she lay dying.
"She…she died…despite all our efforts to save her."
The bard glared at the former dwarven princess.
"Do not think for a moment that we lived charmed lives. We do not. Anyone could die…just…just like Bellethiel did."
Leliana shivered at saying the girl's name, grateful that Alim was not here to hear it.
Belle…Belle had made her promise to watch over Alim, to help and guide him. Leliana had done everything to fulfill that promise, but…she still could not shake a slight sense of guilt.
Had the Dalish girl lived, it was she who likely would have ended up with Alim. The girl had liked him, had even possibly been starting to fall in love with him.
She could not help but wonder what might have been, if the girl had not perished in those ruins.
"Were you successful?"
Seri's question surprised her, she had thought the dwarf shamed to silence by her words.
"What?"
"Were you successful?" the dwarf repeated, "Did you free the Dalish?"
"Yes," she answered.
The dwarven woman nodded.
"Then she died well, her ancestors will accept her proudly into their company. We should all be so lucky."
The former princess rose and stretched.
"I'm going to go get some sleep. Wake me when my turn at watch comes."
Leliana shook her head; she saw dwarf's point, but…
That did not mean that she had to like it.
"Would you like some company my dear?"
Zevran, who had been silent up to now, stood leaning against a tree. Yet again he was trying to proposition the dwarf.
Leliana rolled her eyes.
You had to admire his persistence, if nothing else.
Seri grinned at him.
"Considering all we have been through today Master elf," she said, "I doubt you would have the appropriate…stamina to keep up with me."
The assassin chuckled.
"You would be surprised my dear. Zevran always finds a way to…rise to the occasion."
The dwarf lightly tapped her fingers on her chest plate.
Her smirk widened to full bloom.
With the quickness of a snake, she seized the elf by one of his shoulder straps, pulling him down to her level.
Their mouths crashed together in a fierce and fiery kiss.
Fergus looked away. Theron shook his head, and Kally rolled her eyes.
Leliana smiled.
Zevran had finally worn down the princess's resolve she guessed.
Seri broke the kiss, leaving the two of them panting the dwarf gave the assassin a hungry look.
"Not bad," she purred, "But I still can't say that you are strong enough to keep up with me."
Zevran smirked at her, panting.
"What must I do to prove my strength to you, my good woman?"
She took him by the hand.
"We shall…adjourn to my tent. There, I shall make a decision."
The others watched them go.
Kally shudder.
"Um…Yuck," she murmured.
Leliana tried to stifle a giggle.
The city elf had taken the words right out of her mouth.
The rest of the group smiled, a bit of levity helped it seemed. Seri and Zevran likely had not planned it, but it worked just the same.
It seemed that there was now yet another couple within their little group. Wynne would be sure to give the new lovers a good finger wagging tomorrow, as she had with Alistair and Alim.
She sighed heavily.
Alim.
She glanced over at Wynne's tent. They had set it up for her, before Sten had carried the unconscious mage inside. Alim was sitting with her now.
Leliana's brow furrowed.
Her love had his sword with him, should Wynne wake up, and not be Wynne anymore.
She did not like that, but she understood the necessity of it.
Whatever had emerged from the mage on the battlefield of Ostagar was extremely powerful, and possibly dangerous.
They needed to know what it was, and what it was now…
…Friend…or foe.
IOI
It was quite late when Wynne finally regained consciousness. The elder mage gasped, and sat up quickly.
"Easy," Alim purred, his hand resting on her shoulder, he helped her lay back down.
She looked around in confusion for a few moments before finally settling her eyes on the elven warden.
She smiled weakly.
"I," she murmured softly, "I fell."
He laughed lightly about that.
"Yes you did, but you did a lot of damage to the darkspawn before you…fell."
The old woman sighed, her mouth turned into a grim line.
"For...for a moment there…I…I thought it was all over."
"What was all over?"
"Everything," she murmured.
Alim leaned back, spellbinder rested on his lap, in perfect position to be drawn if he needed to.
Alim's ears twitched slightly.
"I think you had another reason to come with us," he said, "beyond wanting to help us stop the Blight, I mean."
"I suppose I did," Wynne said.
"He sighed heavily.
"If the Templars had discovered that you had… a passenger inside of you, they likely would have killed you on sight."
Wynne shrugged.
"That is what they do, but…you need not worry, it…it is no threat to you. I'm no threat to you."
He shook his head; his hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword.
"I want to believe you, but…if you seriously want me to, you had better explain, and quickly."
The old woman sighed.
"It is a bit of a tale."
"I like tales."
Wynne shook her head.
"Very well."
IOI
They talked for most of the night.
Wynne told Alim about Petra, and how she fought a powerful demon to save the young mage. She told him how the battle left her drained, the demon summoned fel magic, magic that leeched the life right from her body.
She had been victorious in that fight, but she had not survived it. The demon had killed her, but death it seemed was not yet ready to claim her.
It…came for her.
Wynne had no word to describe it, apparently over the long years of her life; she had sensed a presence watching her in the fade. It had always been there she said, perhaps since she had been a little girl.
During her reckless youth, it had protected her during her most terrible battles. She was not sure why it chose her; she could not even begin to guess.
It…it just seemed interested curious about her.
When she fell in battle, when the demon had drained her of her life force, it had come to her side, tried to help her.
Alas, there was nothing left to save; the light of her life had gone out. So…the spirit had done the only thing it could.
It entered her, offering her its own life energy.
What happened next was something that neither would have intended.
They…became one.
The presence…the spirit had found itself bonded to her, a bonding that seemed as symbiotic as it was permanent. She could still feel it inside her mind. Bound up in her thoughts and dreams, it was not afraid, if anything, it seemed to feel giving itself to her as the right thing to do.
It had taken a leap of faith, and been rewarded.
Wynne gave him a sad smile.
"It will not last," she sighed, "I feel the spirit weaken when it emerges. It…it is not meant to be in our world you see. I…I am living on borrowed time. Eventually, it will dissipate, and when that happens…"
Alim nodded.
When the spirit dissipated, there would be nothing left to hold Wynne in this world…
She would die.
The elf sighed.
"So…it is not a demon then?"
Wynne shook her head no.
"I…I think it might be a spirit of faith. They have never been seen before, but…something…something tells me that I am right."
The elf nodded.
He found himself thinking back to his own harrowing, he had encountered a spirit of Valor, a being that had spent its long existence searching for the perfect expression of valor in combat.
What if…what if a spirit of faith had looked upon a young Wynne and seen something in her, a perfection expression of faith? Maker knew she always seemed to hold faith in Irving and the circle, even in the circle's darkest moments Wynne had been there for Irving and the other senior enchanters.
He…he had not known her back then, beyond that reputation.
Part of him wondered if that was his loss.
The warden sighed.
"If you would like," he whispered, "We can take you back to the circle. I will keep your secret. There is no reason for you to spend your last days soaked in blood and taint."
Wynne gave him that stern motherly look of hers.
"You stop right there young man," she growled, "I will not hide in bed, with coverlets pulled up to my chin, waiting for death to claim me. That…that is not the death for me."
She sat up, looking as strong as he had ever seen her.
"So…if you will have me, have us," she said with a slight smile, "We shall continue to follow the grey wardens and prepare them for the dark battles that are to come."
Alim chuckled.
Tough old bitch, he thought.
He was not sure what to make of all this, a spirit of faith?
Whatever was to come he could not deny the value of the power Wynne possessed, but at the same time, he did not want her death on his conscience.
She smiled at him.
"If my end comes, child," she murmured, "Then take heart that it was my decision…my choice."
She placed a warm hand on his arm.
"My…choice." She repeated.
IOI
Alim slipped out of Wynne's tent, his sword returned to its place at his belt. The old woman followed him a moment later to cheers and hugs from several of the group.
He glanced up at the sky. It was already beginning to lighten.
The elf sighed.
They were not quite done here in the Korcari Wilds.
Wynne would stay here, with Morrigan, both would likely love that, but that was the way it had to be.
His thoughts turned to a small hut in the middle of the wilds, and the old woman that lived there.
Did Flemeth know they were back, probably, the witch had a way of knowing things.
But did she know why they had returned?
He shook his head.
Kill the witch of the wilds.
He hoped that this wasn't a mistake.
If it was…
…They would pay for it…
All of them.
NEXT CHAPTER: FLEMETH!