A/N: 150! A huge milestone chapter for Stormbreaker! I'm still committed to ending this monster before the year is out, but first, a little glimpse into things to come. Enjoy!
Chapter 150: Just a Dream
The battlefield was vast. The dry cracked ground littered with bones and broken bits of armor. Where ever she looked the skulls looked back, their empty eye sockets staring accusingly at her. Humans, elves, Qunari, dwarves, even darkspawn, their bones misshapen even in death. Yet, she had no time to acknowledge them, no time to look upon them and reflect.
Leliana had time for only one thing now.
She had to run.
The broken terrain slowed her. She needed to be careful as she made her way over the garden of bones. It would not do to trip and twist an ankle or break a leg falling down some crumbling crevasse.
She needed to keep going.
She needed to run.
As she made her way across the broken landscape, a sudden thought occurred to her.
Why was she running?
It gave her pause, but only briefly. Was she running away from something, or towards it? Was she pursuing or being chased, alas she could not remember; all she knew was that she needed to keep moving.
Her life might depend upon it.
Thunder rumbled overhead, as emerald colored lightning lit the dark clouds that filled the shattered sky. She wondered if this had something to do with the Blight. Perhaps the Archdemon had come for them?
The thought seemed to make everything shift, she felt a brief sense of vertigo, when it was done, she found herself standing on the side of peak, familiar in its way, but also different, somehow.
Above her sat a wide ledge, a long flattened summit, atop that a plateau, there sat the skull of a high dragon, a skull she quickly recognized as belonging to the Archdemon, the creature had haunted her nightmares since she had caught a glimpse of it in the deep roads. She may not have been a warden like her beloved, but that did not mean she did not recognize a monster when she saw it.
Seeing it dead, should have made her feel safer, alas that was not the case.
All around her the world seemed to flicker with barely contained malice.
Her brow furrowed.
Whatever was going on, it was more than simply the work of the Archdemon and its tainted followers.
Standing next to the ledge, not far from the skull of the dragon stood a lone figure, clad in robes of white. Leliana did not know who this person was, only that now she had found what she had been running towards.
She scrambled up the peak trying to keep her footing, trying to reach the person who she needed to find.
As she struggled to reach them, the air itself seemed to boom with the stranger's voice. Despite the loudness of it, it did not sound threatening.
If anything, the voice sounded sad, sad and full of regret.
The stranger sighed.
"I dream now, such horrible dreams."
The person in white looked down on her, for a moment she thought it might be Alim, but now, the voice sounded nothing like her dearest, it was clearly the voice of a young girl. It was a Fereldan voice, but she could hear hints of an Orlesian accent as well.
"I should blame you," the girl continued, "Both of you…you…you made this possible."
Leliana struggled to find her footing to reach the girl, yet the bones gave way beneath her feet, the path up the peak was too unstable.
The girl approached her, now Leliana was sure it was a girl, she could see glimpses of a face beneath the cowl, a chin of pale white skin. Bright pink lips were curled into a look of disdain.
"You know don't you?" she asked the bard. The girl in white tilted her head slightly.
"Are we the same?"
Leliana almost cried in frustration, not just because of the climb, but the choice of the girl's words.
"Do not say that," Leliana spat, "Never say those words!"
"Do they trouble you so? Why? They are just words. I meant no disrespect."
The girl in white turned again, and again Leliana felt a brief flash of vertigo, when it was done, she found herself on the peak, standing beside the young girl.
Together they looked down on the world, a battlefield as far as the eye could see; death was everywhere, where ever they looked, there was no sign of life, no birds, not a tree, nothing…
The sight made Leliana shudder.
Was the entire world dead?
"I do not blame you," she murmured, "Either of you. I did not ask for this, but you did not either did you? You did what you thought was best, he did as well I think, but now that I am here. I must do the same."
Leliana turned to her.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
The girl sighed.
"Warn him," she said, "He needs to know. It is waking, stirring in the darkness after its long sleep. It will look upon this world and hate everything. It will destroy everything. Even the darkspawn will not escape its wrath."
"Who?" Leliana asked, "What are you talking about?"
The girl did not seem to hear her.
"He needs to know," the girl continued, "Tell him, you must tell him."
The girl turned to face her, large bright blue eyes looked at her urgently; hair the color of snow framed a beautiful face.
Something in that face stirred her memory, it was so familiar. The shape of the eyes, so large, yet…somehow she knew them.
The peak crumbled beneath them, the Archdemon's skull fell.
Leliana struggled to keep her footing the pale girl seemed unmoved. Leliana struggled to grab for her. She called out for help, but the girl seemed to not hear her again.
"They are not heroes," she shouted, "He has been lied to. Warn him! They must not return! If they do they will join his pack when he awakes. The wolf…do not trust the wolf. They are not heroes. They are his. They will be his!"
The girl lost her hood as the peak fell away, long white hair blew free, white hair with a streak of bright red running through it, a streak braided in a familiar fashion.
Leliana fell. She screamed as the darkness consumed her.
Again she heard the girl's voice.
"Warn him."
"Fear the wolf."
"Warn him."
The bard wailed.
"WARN HIM!"
IOI
Leliana awoke.
The bard sat up gasping for breath. She still felt like she was falling, but quickly enough the sense of vertigo went away.
She swallowed hard, willing her pounding heart to slow.
She glanced around their tent. Alim had yet to return; he was likely still meeting with Alistair and the generals.
She sighed deeply.
Another vision, she thought, but…this was different somehow.
She had seen the Archdemon's skull, the beast had been dead. Did…did that mean that they would succeed?
Warn him, the girl had said.
They were not heroes.
Leliana pursed her lips.
It could have been just a dream, she thought, but it certainly felt like one of her visions. Yet, it still seemed strange somehow.
Curious, she thought, the dispassionate part of her brain thought. You have not had any visions since you freed Alim from Fort Drakon, and now, this one, clearly not a warning about the Blight has come. Why is that?
The thought gave her pause.
Why indeed.
She threw off her covers and rose from her bed roll. She grabbed for her armored skirt and vest. The tent she shared with her dearest suddenly seemed…a bit stifling.
She wanted out.
She needed air.
She slipped out of the tent, and into a world of swords and shields.
All around her their camp continued to grow, each evening saw the arrival of more and more soldiers. Lords, knights, and free riders continued to arrive and pledge their weapons to oppose the Blight. There army had become a snowball rolling down a hill, growing and growing until it would soon become an avalanche. They had received word from both Orzammar and the circle; they were now mustering as well, and would soon be leaving to join the cause. Both the First Enchanter and King Bhelen had both pledged their forces and those pledges were now being honored.
The mere strength around them was enough to raise Leliana's spirits. Surely even the Archdemon would not be able to stand against such a host when it finally fell upon the horde. She knew little of the plans that Alim and Alistair were even now concocting to shatter the horde and bring the tainted god that led it to heel, but seeing the army that they had worked so long and hard to build.
It was enough to make her think that all they had faced in the last year had not been in vain, that what they had lost may have all been worthy sacrifices.
Few acknowledged her as they passed; they all knew who she was of course. All of the wardens' allies were known to the highborn after the Landsmeet. She knew that some of the Ferelden nobles were…uncomfortable with her. Her Orlesian accent would have been enough, but the fact that she shared a bed with Alim was also known.
Some of that was the stigma that human men felt about their women sharing themselves with elves. Yet no one said a word when a lord took an elven girl to his bed. Such was the double standard that was as common here as it was in the Empire. Some might have thought she was a spy for Orlais, but they held their tongue. Fear of the Empire remained, but even the most anti-Orlesian lord realized that if the darkspawn were not stopped it would not matter what Orlais did or did not do.
If they failed now, Ferelden would likely be lost.
She sought out her old allies, the group of misfits that had made this all possible. It was not hard to find them. Shayle stood Sentinel at the front of their little camp, with Sten not far beyond. Neither the golem nor the Qunari seemed to trust the guards that Alistair had set up to protect them; they preferred to tend to such matters themselves. If that was not enough, all she had to do was listen for Oghren's snoring; the sound was beacon enough that anyone could find their little camp. At the very edge of their friends tents stood Morrigan's little track of land. Even surrounded by a great army, the witch still sought out solitude; it was something that Leliana chose not to comment on.
What more could be said about Morrigan, what she did was simply her way.
She saw Wynne reading against an old gnarled tree, the mage smiled and gave a slight wave as she passed. Theron and Jowan were off by themselves, shooting at a small target they had pinned to a large tree stump. The mage's staff never seemed to miss the target, but Jowan was having trouble calling his shots. Theron was trying to get the mage used to hitting the same spot over and over. He would fire and arrow and the blood mage tried to hit where it landed with a magic bolt. So far he was not having much success.
Not far from where they trained Elissa had built a small campfire, but unlike Morrigan, no one in the group seemed comfortable leaving the warden recruit by herself. Carver sat across from her cleaning and oiling his blade.
Both soldier and new warden were glaring at each other.
Leliana gave them both a wide berth.
Only Zev and Seri seemed content to sit by their main fire. Tonight they were joined by Bodahn Feddic and his son. Sandal had a gentle smile on his face, his eyes staring dreamily into the fire.
It was the older dwarf that first noticed her arrival. He smiled up at her, a welcoming merchant's smile.
"Good fortunes to you this fine eve, Milady," he said.
Sandal looked up at her and grinned.
"Enchantment?" he asked.
"Not tonight son," his father said, "The young lady is simply sharing our fire."
The boy nodded and fell silent again.
"Ah my dear Leliana," Zevran said smirking, "Has our dear warden's charms finally worn off upon you? Are you looking for a new form of release?"
Seri gave him a playful poke in the ribs. The assassin made a slight offing sound and gave her a warm look.
The former dwarven princess rolled her eyes.
"Pay him no mind, Leliana," she said, "I sometimes think he would flirt with a broodmother if she glanced his way.
The assassin chuckled.
"I fear that even my charms would be wasted on such a creature, dear Seri," he said, "They sound like they are a most frightful beast."
Leliana's thoughts briefly returned to the deep roads, to Hespith and the creature that had once been one of her kin.
The thought made her shudder.
Zev had no idea of what he spoke.
The assassin looked out at the army that had sprung up around them. Zevran might have seemed jaded at times, yet even he could not fail to be impressed by the forces that had gathered to aid them against the darkspawn.
The elf's ears twitched with amusement.
"It is amazing, no?" he said.
"What is," Seri asked.
"A month ago, all these lords were likely at war with each other" he said dryly," and now here they all sit, united in a common cause. It is most refreshing don't you think?"
Leliana almost laughed. Seri rolled her eyes again.
Even if she had not heard the sarcasm in the elf's voice, she would have known it was there.
Zevran Arainai was many things, naïve he was not.
He knew the games the nobles played as much as she and Seri did.
"They have a common goal," Leliana said, "Nothing more, when the darkspawn are defeated, that will change."
"Indeed," Seri chimed in, "From what I have seen of the surface world, your lords are no different than the Deshyrs back home."
She shook her head.
"The bad blood is still there. They're just willing to wait. If their enemies die during the Blight, so be it. If not they hope they will be weakened enough to deal with permanently."
Bodahn sighed.
"Ah the dance of politics," he sighed, "A merchant's life is better, if you ask me. The dirt of the road cleans off better than blood."
Leliana pursed her lips.
The merchant was not wrong, unfortunately it was noble power they needed now. Men and good steel is what was needed now, a force to stand against the Blight.
Once Ferelden was safe, then the old rivalries could begin again.
She sighed.
On the morrow, they would be on the march again. More allies would come and they would continue their march towards Redcliffe. Word had been sent to Orlais as well, asking the Empress if she wished to commit any troops to the battle that Ferelden were about to wage.
Few doubted that she would not accept. After a year of fearmongering and venom from Loghain, it was doubtful that Celene would stir from her throne. The Empress no doubt thought that the Fereldans had made their own bed, now they would have to lay in it.
Leliana sighed.
She tried not to think of the nightmare, and what it might portend. They had been so focused on the Blight for so long, and the Archdemon still drew breath. It seemed that to acknowledge any other enemy right now was extremely short sighted.
Warn him, the girl had said.
They are not heroes.
Warn him.
The words made her shudder.
Who were they? Did the girl refer to the wardens? She already knew that Alim did not see himself as a hero, that the order was made up of people who were not the legends of old but simply people trying to make their way in the world. Some wardens had dark pasts…
She glanced over at Elissa Cousland, no further evidence did she need than her.
They are not heroes.
Fear the wolf.
Leliana shook her head.
Ever Redcliffe, she decided, after Redcliffe she would mention this to Alim. He had too much on his plate right now for her to drop this on him.
Fear the wolf, indeed she thought.
What danger was a mere wolf when compared to the power of the Blight?
A power they would soon face.
After Redcliffe, she thought. For now…only one thing matters, only one thing can matter.
The Blight was all, and it needed to end.
The Blight was what mattered.
Everything else…
…was just a dream.