Chapter 165: Worthy
"BRING IT DOWN!"
Alistair's words were nearly drowned out by the rumble of thunder, over their heads; the great fortress seemed to shake with each strike of lightning. Both darkspawn and dragon were harried, each flash left spots before Leliana's eyes, bringing tears that she could not wipe away. She kept back her bow at the ready.
None of them could pass! She had promised Alim this.
Not one of the monsters would pass!
She loosed a shaft into the eye of a shriek, but as it fell two genlocks closed in laughing and snarling with savage glee.
"CUT THE LINES!" Alistair shouted again, "BRING IT DOWN! NOW!"
To her left there came a great snapping sound followed by the heavy rumble of iron.
The black portcullis came down hard, slamming into position, blocking the way they had come. Two of the darkspawn had not been fast enough; the bars came down hard, crushing them like grapes. From the other side came a great roar of frustration, darkspawn flung themselves at portcullis trying to buckle it with their weight. Those monsters died swiftly, brought down by both arrow and spear.
For the briefest of moments, the bard allowed herself a sigh of relief. The way they had come was now sealed off, they would not be able to get out, but at the same time, more darkspawn could not get in.
That was for the best especially now as they began their hunt for the Archdemon.
The beast was now cut off from the bulk of its army, its only shield was the darkspawn who were already here, and hopefully they were too distracted or being dealt with by the soldiers that still lived, still trying to hold this fort.
The fewer the monsters, the better, she thought, what was to come would be hard enough.
They did not need to make an already almost impossible task more difficult.
The gate gave the group a brief respite from the fighting; she turned and took stock of those that remained. They had lost many of their soldiers getting here, particularly when it came to breaching the courtyard. Few of the dwarves that had followed them remained, they had been the tip of the spear that had allowed the group to force their way into Fort Drakon. The Ferelden soldiers were more numerous, they had done their best to shield the mages that followed them from the darkspawn wherever they could, and by staying back assured that their numbers remained strong. Solona Amell and her mages looked tired from the fighting, but held the same determined look that the other soldiers had, they knew that this battle needed to be won, and seemed willing to make the sacrifice if needed. The remaining Dalish hunters continued to watch the gate, firing arrows at any darkspawn that drew too close.
"That gate won't hold if they bring an ogre up, Lim," Alistair reminded his fellow warden.
She turned to her love. Alim looked almost as bad as the other mages, he was sweating from exertion, and from the slight glow of his eyes he had clearly used another of his lyrium potions.
"We don't need it to hold for long, Ali," the elf replied, "Once we start our ascent to the roof, the corridors will grow smaller. We just need a bit of time to get ahead of the monsters. Time to face the Archdemon alone…"
Alim grinned savagely.
"This battle was never about the spawn, as you said once before: We chop off the snake's head, the Blight will end."
The elf took a step forward and fell to his knees, gasping for breath.
Her heart in her throat, Leliana ran to him, he stopped her with a raised hand; he coughed and shook his head, wearily. Bandit was at his side whimpering, he licked his master's face, which did seem to calm the warden, and perhaps restore his strength.
His glare returned when he saw two of their mages approach, he shook his head no.
"It is alright," he said angrily, "I…I just need a few minutes."
Wynne was at his side then, she pressed her hand to his damp forehead.
The old mage frowned.
"How many lyrium draughts have you taken today, Alim?" she asked.
"Enough," he gasped, "I hope."
Her expression remained hard, like a stern mother recognizing that her child has pushed himself too far.
He met her gaze and sighed.
"We're too close to stop now." he reminded her, "I can feel the Archdemon's presence, it is wounded, crying out for help, for defense. We cannot give it a chance to get back into the air again; there will never be a better time to end this."
The old woman's frown deepened.
"Even if this fight kills you?" Wynne asked.
He smiled again.
"That is part of the job, is it not?"
Leliana swallowed back a panicked retort. She had no desire to see her love die this day, but at the same time, she recognized what was being asked of him, of all the grey wardens.
This moment was where the road from Lothering had led, back when she had first joined the wardens all those months ago. They came here to stop the Blight, not worry about their safety.
Wasn't the safety of the world worth dying for?
Wasn't making that sacrifice worth dying for?
They had already lost Zevran, how many more would fall before this was done, and if it meant the Archdemon fell with them, was that not worth it?
Was that not…why they were all here.
She watched as Solona and the mages did what they could to block the entrance, stone and ice began to block the entrance. Alim finally managed to stagger back to his feet.
"Save your energy," he told the mages, "The real fight is still ahead."
Leliana looked at her companions, of their group only Elissa Cousland did not seem affected by the fighting. While the other wardens looked drained from combat, the Highever warden looked strong and healthy almost glowing in fact.
She smiled savagely, clearly ready for more carnage.
If the guards had time to prepare, the darkspawn here will not have an easy time reaching their master," she laughed, a sound tinged with cruelty.
She turned to the other wardens.
"Shouldn't we be off? The Archdemon awaits."
Alim nodded, with some effort, he managed to find his feet again.
Surprisingly, he did not simply bound ahead; he turned to Carver, who was being tended to by one of the mages.
He gave the young warrior a hard look.
"You were a guard here for some time, yes?" the warden asked.
"Yeah," Carver nodded, "I guess you want to know if I learned of any shortcuts, ways to move quickly and unseen in this place."
"That would help, yes," the warden agreed.
Carver chuckled.
"I know a couple," he said, through the main hall, just beyond the barracks, there was an old passage not used since the Orlesian days. The staff would use it from time to time to avoid the quartermaster. They said it led up to the next level, rom there we should be able to find our way up to the roof, if that is the plan warden?"
"It is," Alim said. He turned to the others.
"We push on," he informed the others. Keep your mouths shut and your eyes open. I don't know if the darkspawn are smart enough to use the defenses of this place against us, but why take that chance?"
"Should we not leave someone behind, Alim?" Jowan asked, someone to hold the way, to keep more darkspawn from getting in here/"
"Looking to stay out of the fight, mage?" Elissa asked.
"Trying to safe guard the rest of us, woman," he spat back.
Leliana glared angrily at Elissa, the woman seemed to enjoy bringing out the worst in people.
Did she not see that they did not have time for this, did she not realize…
"ENOUGH!" Alim shouted before the argument could turn into anything else. They had no time to fight amongst themselves, not when they were so close to the end.
"We're going to need everyone if we're going to win this. We can't afford to leave anyone behind, even to watch our backs."
He looked at Alistair; their new king had lost most of his bodyguard on the way here, now he stood almost by himself, covered in darkspawn gore.
"You might have lived longer had you stayed behind," Alim reminded him.
The king chuckled.
"Now where is the fun in that?" he said.
Alim snorted with amusement. He turned to Carver and motioned for him to take the lead.
"Lead the way," he told him, "The Archdemon is waiting…"
The elf's eyes narrowed.
"We are running out of time."
IOI
Despite everything that had happened, despite everything that she believed, Morrigan's eyes continued to wander back to Alistair again and again.
He no longer matters, she tried to tell herself, she now had what was needed. Alim had given her exactly what had been required of the wardens, the plan was well underway, all that she needed now was the soul; the essence of the old god, the vessel was ready, now…now she just needed to fill it.
They don't matter, none of these people do, not now, not ever.
The thought made her pause; a frown crept over her pale features. Once she may have believed that to be true, she might even have taken comfort in the thought, but now…now…
All it brought her was confusion, confusion and doubt.
She cursed herself for her weakness. If mother were here she would have snarled at her daughter, striking her across the face for surrendering to such…sentimentality.
What was at stake here was beyond the life of any man, even a king, even a friend, even…a lover, and yet…and yet.
She could not stop asking herself one small yet all important question.
What if?
It should have been Alistair, she thought, he should have been the father of my child, it would have been a piece of him that would be mind and mine alone, but at the same time, that was the problem wasn't it?
Such a child would have bound her to the fool of the rest of her days; it would be hard enough parting from Alim when this was done. She considered the elf a friend, despite everything that had happened since Redcliffe. She would not blame him if he rejected her, but at least, she had something of his, the child that would spring from her would be born not only with the strength of an old god, but the power of the ancient stormbreakers as well, a blend of power that could only serve to enrich the child, expanding on an already great destiny.
That should have been enough, it should have been, and yet…
She remained troubled.
"It is okay, you know?"
Morrigan's eyes narrowed, the chantry mage Solona was speaking to her, the dark haired twit with the spectacles seemed to think she understood what Morrigan was going through.
How little she truly knew.
"I need nothing of you girl," she told the mage, "Be silent."
Solona's expression did not change.
"I've heard about you and the king," she said, "It is not an easy thing giving up a man, even when the world tells you that you must."
The witch felt a surge of anger.
"You know nothing. I'm not some starry eyed waif who has spent her life in your tower, nor am I some fool maiden who needs a shoulder to cry on."
She glanced over, glaring at the girl.
"Keep your opinions to yourself. I have no need of your sympathy."
The circle mage sniffed and turned away, clearly insulted by her words.
Good, Morrigan thought.
She did not need the woman thinking she was more valuable that she was.
The passage that Carver had led them through had proved useful. They had managed to bypass the main hall, a chamber still flooded by darkspawn. From there they had emerged just outside the officers' quarters. One level above where the darkspawn had set their traps.
The witch smiled slyly.
By the time they realized that the wardens had got past them, it would be too late, they would be on their way to the upper levels, and the monsters would be cut off from their dark master.
Soon, she thought to herself.
Soon this will all be over.
She found herself wondering which warden would end up striking the final blow. Alim and Alistair were clearly the most likely, yet she dare not discount the Dalish or the noble. Jowan remained a wild card, so she did not discount him either.
Had the man had a stronger will, she might have considered him worthy of being the father of her child. Yet, his weakness, his choice to use blood magic left him more than unsuitable.
As the group moved higher, the architecture of the fortress began to change; the plain unmarked walls and basic furniture gave way to more luxurious trappings. Silken banners hung from the walls, finally crafted tables and chairs filled the empty space of the rooms they passed, the halls far better lit than they had been on the lower levels.
We are in the noble section now," Carver informed them, "It is here that the wealthy and the highborn stay while awaiting trial."
Morrigan rolled her eyes.
Like that was something surprising, she thought.
Everything around us speaks of noble privilege, who else would be sent to stay here?
The opulence around them made her come to a decision.
This would be the world her child would be born into, not in some bog on the edge of civilization. She would not allow her child to be as isolated as she had been, with only her mother to shape her or him in what he needed to be.
My child must be more than I, far more.
A shiver ran down her spine, she could almost taste the magic in the air.
The ambush came moments later.
They had been approaching a heavy door, leading up to the next stairwell. No sooner had Carver moved to open it then the door exploded inward, shards of wood became deadly shrapnel. The dark haired soldier had his armor; it likely saved him from meeting his end right then and there.
Jowan had not been so lucky.
Two thick pieces of wood tore through the blood mage-turned warden's chest.
He sank to the floor leaving a large red stain behind.
Alim whirled bringing his sword to bear on the hurlock emissary that had cast the spell, both from above and below darkspawn swarmed the wardens and their allies, pinning them in on both sides.
Morrigan barely had time to blast an over-eager hurlock with an arcane bolt; the creature went down only to be replaced by two more. The snarls of the darkspawn and the cries of the wounded and the dying filled the air.
The witch felt an unfamiliar surge of fear.
They were trapped, and there was nowhere for them to go.
She watched as another of Alistair's bodyguards fell. She tried to fight her way to him to protect him from the onslaught. She could only watch as Alim and Bandit were overwhelmed, brought low by a swarm of hurlocks.
One of the monsters grabbed her from behind, she flung her head back, hearing a pained squeal as her blow shattered bone. Yet, the darkspawn did not let go, it dug its claws into her arms.
Morrigan screamed in both pain and rage.
No, she thought, not like this!
Not like this!
Again she felt magic building filling the corridor, she thought the emissary about to strike the killing blow, but then…then…
Everything turned about.
The darkspawn's claws released her. The hurlocks that had pinned Alim and his dog squealed and fell away.
The witch shook her head, the very air felt wrong, hot and blistering.
For the darkspawn it was worse.
Alim struggled to his feet, bleeding from a cut on the side of his head, his left arm hanging limp at his side.
"JOWAN!" he shouted, "HOLD ON!"
Morrigan looked back.
The warden blood mage had somehow regained his feet; the blood flowing from his wounds swirled around him his eyes glowed red with malicious power. All around him, the darkspawn were burning, their skin melting.
"Go," Jowan hissed, blood flowing from both his mouth and his side.
"Jowan," Alim shouted, "We can't just…"
The blood mage raised his hands, directing the power of his own lifeforce to attack the darkspawn to shatter the trap that should have killed the warden and their allies. When he spoke again, his voice thundered with power, almost enough to hurt even Morrigan's ears, one single word, one last command.
"GOOOOO!"
Morrigan felt hands seize her, dragging her down the hall and up the stairs. She thought she saw Shayle moving forward, scooping up the wounded Mabari and bringing it with them…
"Come on," she heard Theron shouting.
"Come on!"
The darkspawn that had been blocking the way up crumbled either by blade or by Jowan's blood spell. The last Morrigan saw of the failed Circle mage was when a group of hurlocks surged up the hall behind him.
One drove its blade deep into Jowan's back, while a second reached over his shoulder, stabbing him twice in the chest.
Dying his lifeforce fleeing his body, Jowan raised his hands. One of the darkspawn grabbed him pulling his head back.
A darkspawn blade cut deep into the mage's throat, yet, even that attack came too late.
Jowan brought his hands together, finishing one final spell.
Morrigan turned to run.
The air behind her ignited, fire blazed across the chamber, killing both darkspawn and Ferelden alike.
The blast knocked Morrigan to her knees leaving her ears ringing.
She looked back expecting to see more darkspawn emerging from the fire, trying to attack them from behind.
None appeared; the hall was silent again except for the crackling of the remaining fires caused by Jowan's spell.
As for Jowan himself, he was gone.
The warden had saved them, at the cost of his own life.
Morrigan let out a shuddering breath, tasting the foul ash in the air.
Surprising, she thought to herself.
Perhaps, the fool was not so unworthy after all.