Chapter 17) Witches of the Wilds
Layla POV
"That's another batch lost in the Wilds!" I ducked out of sight as I heard the templars yelling. Even as young as I was, I knew better than to be seen by angry templars. A few had used Jowan as a punching bag just yesterday for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, the Knight-Commander had scolded them severely for it, but that did not change the bruises. "They were left in the bloody trees!"
"Maybe we should steer clear," another suggested softly.
"And let the apostate get away with this?!"
"And not lose more men until we have a better idea of what's there. That Witch of the Wilds legend has been around since before Gregoir was born and, trust me, that was a while back!" There was a bit of laughter and it slowly faded away. I peered around the corner to confirm they were gone before I raced to the library.
'Witch of the Wilds' sounded like an interesting thing to research.
She was a woman. She was a cat, but now she was a woman. She was a cat… woman… person… mage… How could you shapeshift outside of the Fade?! That should be impossible! The Circle was clear about that! She was also dressed so… so scandalously. While yes, mages were not as affected by temperature extremes as non-mages, for how else could we stand the heat of fire spells or the cold of ice magic, she was dressed in what seemed to be scarves and stitched up rags!
It did not help that she had this very odd slink to her walk as she approached us. "Are you all vultures?" she asked coyly, smirking all the while. "Come to rummage through a corpse whose bones have long since been picked clean?" She came closer to Cleon, who tugged me behind him. "Or are you merely intruders, invading these darkspawn filled woods of mine in search of easy prey?"
"If these Wilds belong to anyone, they would belong to Asha'bellanar," Cleon answered tightly, glaring down at the woman. "You are not she."
"No, but that does not answer my question, and it seems to me that you are the ones at fault, not I." Her smirked widened. "So, tell me. Scavenger or intruder?"
"What about this tower, here?" Nuada asked. He seemed completely at ease with all of this. "The Wilds may have claimed it, but we're looking for that which is hidden inside it, Madame Cat."
"Oh, I remember you. I did not enjoy the rock you threw at me." She straightened and walked to Nuada, Cleon shifted so that he remained between her and me. "It interfered with my watching most severely."
"You seem to have found us readily enough."
"Indeed, you are so loud, I do believe anything could've followed you." She chuckled and stepped back to regard us all. "But so many questions wandered through my head. Where was your destination? Why have you disturbed ashes long since settled?"
"No one answer her," Alistair muttered. Though his shield was on his back, he'd palmed his sword. "She looks Chasind."
"What's wrong with Chasind?" Cleon demanded.
"They never travel alone."
"Oh, so you feel that barbarians will swoop down?" the woman mocked.
Alistair, however, retorted instantly. "Yes, swooping is bad." I giggled far more than I should have as I recalled Commander Duncan saying it long ago, when things had been a little happier. "Very bad. Extremely bad."
"Oh, joy, a half-wit who thinks he's clever."
"And who just mocked a witch of the wilds," Daveth grumbled, keeping his distance. "She'll turn us into toads!" Shapeshifting was not…! …Well, actually, I had no retort for that. This woman had obviously proved it was more than possible.
"Witch of the Wilds," the woman repeated with a chortle. "Such idle fancies those legends. Have you no minds of your own?"
"It is not the lack of minds, mistress," Aiden slowly interrupted. "Merely our limited understanding."
"My, such manners!" Well, she finally looked pleased. "Are you offering yourself as my servant?" Aiden tensed slightly. "Slave?" Cleon looked ready to snap.
"Perhaps it was, instead, politeness," Nuada sighed, thankfully preventing a fight from breaking out. "It is a way to refer to an unmarried woman who may or may not hold a title, such as a knight or a noble."
"Truly? Well, I am flattered even further," she laughed. So, if we were polite, she would be in a better mood. That was good to know. "Tell me your name, polite one, and I shall give you mine."
"I am Aiden Tabris," Aiden replied evenly. He looked a little confused as to why he was the one being addressed, glancing at Nuada. Nuada, for his part, was just grinning. "I hail from Denerim, in the north."
"I see. Well, you may call me 'Morrigan'." She smiled and rocked back on her heels, crossing her arms in a slightly intimidating pose. It also brought more emphasis to her chest, but I was not sure if that was intended or not. "Now, shall I guess your purpose?"
"I suppose?"
"Let's see, hmm… you sought something in that chest, there?" She pointed to the broken case. "Something that is… there no longer?"
"There no longer?" Alistair repeated with a growl. "You stole them, didn't you? You… you're some kind of sneaky witch thief." Pardon?
"How very eloquent." That was some thick sarcasm.
"What is wrong with being a witch?" I found myself asking. I kept behind Cleon, of course, but still, the words slipped out.
"Nothing," Alistair answered easily. "So long as they aren't the sneaky thief kind. Those are bad. Very slippery. And apparently don't wear proper clothing."
"I suppose being completely covered in a robe and freckles is a 'proper' witch?" Morrigan scoffed, telling me that my attempts to hide had been for naught. I flushed and looked down. I had never been ashamed of my robes, but I was slowly gaining a self-consciousness about the freckles I had developed from the sunburns.
"Well, freckles are adorable and robes leave more to the imagination," Nuada absently commented. I squeaked out how candid the remark was! Cleon, the traitor, choked on a laugh. "It leaves more for surprises. I, personally, am confused by how pale you are, considering you're so exposed." Morrigan's eyes narrowed, but Nuada seemed not to care. "But maybe that is a type of magic? I'd call that a waste, but what do I know?"
"If I can intervene?" Aiden quickly cut in before Morrigan lashed out with something awful.
"Oh, yes, I'd over much prefer it if you or the quiet elf there talked," Morrigan grumbled. "The rest of you can keep quiet."
"Then perhaps we can have the documents that were left here? They are of great importance."
"Well, I cannot give them back, for I was not the one to take them in the first place."
"Can you lead us to who has them?"
"I suppose I can take you to my mother, yes. Perhaps she shan't leave you in the trees." Pardon? "I do like you and your sensibility, though."
"Be careful," Alistair muttered. "First it's 'I like you' and then zap! Frog time!"
"Sh-she'll put us all in the pot, she will," Daveth stammered. I felt my shoulders slump at the distrust. While Morrigan had shown no signs of being trustworthy, of course, they seemed to think it was all because of her magic, not her general air.
"Well, it'll be nice to warm up," Ser Jory muttered. I was actually startled to hear him talk. He'd only had a conversation with Nuada the whole trip, aside from that one group conversation.
"Yes, we had best follow her," Cleon agreed. I was mildly surprised by that. "If her mother is who I believe, then it will not do to make her wait."
"Two sensible men in the party!" Morrigan laughed. Her smile seemed all too predatory for my liking. "Come with me, then. I shall show you the way."
Oh, why did we have to follow the crazy apostate?
I… honestly was not expecting a small hut. I was also not expecting the woman who waited for us. I knew her for magic immediately, of course, and hid behind Aiden as Morrigan led us straight for her. That much power was not to be treated lightly.
"Greetings, Mother," Morrigan called politely. She walked up to stand behind her mother, but the rest of us hung back. "I bring you Wardens who-"
"I see them, girl," the woman interrupted. She studied us closely. I thought her gaze just barely acknowledged Daveth and Ser Jory, but lingered on the rest of us. "Hmm, much as I expected." Pardon?
"Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?" Alistair responded. He had a slight chuckle to his tone.
"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. What you choose to do… well, that is no concern of mine, in the end." She shrugged. "Shut one's eyes tight or open them wide… either way, a fool is a fool, until he stops hiding from his birthright." Alistair started at that, but I could not see how.
"Don't listen to her," Daveth muttered. He still looked shaky. "She's a witch, I tell you."
"Well, if she is a witch, then do you really want to provoke her?" Ser Jory asked dryly. It was nice to see something sensible, even if I disliked their focus on her being a mage.
"The lack of respect shem'len show continues to astound me," Cleon sighed. He certainly looked annoyed. "My apologies, Asha-" He snapped his jaw shut with an audible clack as the woman smiled slightly and mimed some sign in front of her face. Was she telling him to be quiet? "As you will."
"It's so much fun to see such wit from someone largely irrelevant to the grand scheme of things," the woman continued, as if she had not heard Cleon at all. Ser Jory frowned at being called 'irrelevant'. "Of course, that's not my decision."
"Mother, they did not come to listen to your tales," Morrigan interrupted, obviously exasperated. I was grateful for her, since I was, for some reason, starting to become afraid of the old woman.
"Ah, this is true. They came for their treaties, yes?" The woman produced a small roll of papers from her skirt. I assumed they had pockets. "Before you start barking, I protected them when the wards fell."
"You… oh," Alistiar attempted to reply, but fell short as he accepted the treaties. He was the only 'real' Warden among us, after all. "I see. Thank you, very much."
"Politeness is always a good trait to have." She smiled slightly. "Give them to your commander with a message. This Blight's threat is greater than anyone of them can have imagined."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Either they have imagined less or the threat is more. Or perhaps the threat is nothing." She started laughing. "Or perhaps they imagined nothing!" The laughter suddenly stopped. "Or perhaps the greatest danger comes not from the Archdemon. Who's to say?" Despite her carefree, absent air, I felt she had some sort of purpose as she meandered to Aiden. "What do you think, great fire?"
"I am not certain of your question, mistress," Aiden answered slowly. He kept his gaze on the ground and only the tensing of his shoulders betrayed that he had been surprised.
"No? Then you are fine with things as they are for your people? You don't think there is danger hiding away in their hearts and minds?"
"I know not what you mean."
"No, you keep from thinking of them, for fear of your anger making the world run red." Aiden twitched at the word, making me frown. What was wrong with red? "Mmm, I wonder how long you plan to hide that little… trauma?" Aiden did not respond. "I see." And then she twirled past him to come face to face with me. I froze at her gaze, feeling like a rabbit staring down a wolf. "Now, what say you, girl with coloring too bright for her name?"
"P-pardon?" I stammered, unable to do much else.
"What dangers do you think exist? Perhaps in the Circle?"
"It is only the revolutionaries who would even attempt to cause trouble."
"Like Jowan?" I nearly collapsed in shock. How did she know that name? "Mmm, perhaps not. He's too… weak-willed, isn't he? But what of, say, Anders? He's got more than enough fire in him."
"Anders would never-!"
"He has seen more of the traumas than you ever will, girl. Fear and pain lead to terrible things." I could not breath as she stepped closer. "Can you truly say that your precious Circle is safe? Can you say that no war will erupt? Perhaps now? Perhaps later?"
"Perhaps not at all?" Cleon interrupted, tugging me behind him. I was grateful for the protection. I had no idea how she would know Jowan and Anders and that terrified me.
"Perhaps indeed. You're learning!" the woman laughed before leaning towards Cleon. "As for you… do you really think you can hide that forever?"
"I know not what you're talking about," Cleon growled. Yet as he took one step back, his leg collapsed under him. "Whoa!" By some miracle, Aiden caught him before he hit the ground. I was glad for that as we all crowded around him. I would not have been able to. "Sorry, must've mistepped." But there was nothing to even slide on.
"No, it's the Taint," Alistiar noted grimly. He looked almost pained as he studied Cleon. "Well, my friend, we'd better get you to the Joining fast. You're going to waste away if not."
"I'm fine."
"My, my, I admire your stubbornness, little one," the old woman chuckled. Her eyes glittered with anticipation. "I could, perhaps, ease the pain a bit." What? Well, if it could help…
All thoughts froze at Nuada's cold, calm reply. "With all due respect, I am afraid we must refuse." His smile disappeared as he planted himself in front of all of us. In fact, he looked almost angry. What was going on?
The woman seemed amused. "It would make things easier."
"But I still must refuse, for I do not think any of us will like the price you put on it when his cure is not long in coming."
"Clever. Did he teach you that?"
"With all your wisdom, my lady, I'm certain you can divine the answer for yourself."
"I suppose so." She smiled, but it only made me more fearful. "But I am curious. If he told you all that, did he perhaps tell you something else? Something like… a Blight that would occur long after he was gone from Fereldan's soil?"
"Surely, my lady, you know the answer to that already." Why did he emphasize the term 'my lady'? Was it meant to be an insult?
Her smile widened. "Hmm, yes, I guess so. But what about the other piece of warning? The one Maric never heeded." Nuada's face blanked and I tried to figure out who 'Maric' was. "Or did you hear that piece of information and deem it so hurtful that you threw it away, so that you could continue to smile and laugh like a fool?" Huh?
"Your words wound me."
"Like the assassin daggers? Coated in paralyzing poison?"
"I know not what you mean, I am afraid." Nuada's smile returned then. It looked bright and carefree. "However, we really must be getting Cleon back."
"First smart thing he's done," Cleon growled. He looked annoyed. "You shouldn't talk back to her."
"I'll do more than that, if that's what it takes to get you out without her help. There are other options."
"…This is true."
"I feel left out," I complained, unable to really help myself. I disliked not knowing something. "What are you two talking about?"
"Leaving," Cleon stated firmly. "We're leaving now."
"Yes, yes, go on," the woman agreed. "And don't mind me." She laughed softly and it sent chills down my spine. "You have what you came for. Morrigan?" Her daughter started. "Lead them out. They are your guests, after all. You must treat them kindly."
"I… oh, very well," Morrigan sighed. She sounded so despondent over the thought. "Follow me, then."
"Aiden, can you get him on my back?" Nuada requested as Morrigan walked right on past us. He was very careful to not keep his gaze off the old woman. "I can fight one handed if need be."
"Certainly, milord," Aiden agreed. Cleon opened his mouth to protest, but Aiden shut it with a quick flick to the jaw. "You're not allowed to do anything. Consider it punishment for not telling."
"Dread Wolf, take these fools," Cleon grumbled as the two settled him on Nuada's back. I could not help but notice how tiny he looked compared to them. But, then again, I am even smaller… "Bah!"
"I'm sure a wolf won't want a dog lord," Nuada joked cheerfully as he walked after Morrigan, who showed no signs of stopping. "Come, think of how much fun you'll have while you curse my ears blue."
"How did you know of the Dread Wolf's wariness around dogs?"
"I don't think I did? I don't recall it from the songs we had in our library. I was more referring to how our mabari are said to scent werewolves."
"Oh."
"You can rattle off the tale in between curses, though. I'd like that."
"Bah!"
"I honestly can't tell if they're going to kill each other or not," Alistair sighed heavily. He glanced behind at the hut as Daveth and Ser Jory hurried onward. The two of them looked a little disgruntled by everything. "Come on, though. Best not let them go too far ahead."
"Well, then let us hope she does not lead us into a bog," I mumbled, following Alistair, Daveth, and Ser Jory.
But, Aiden shook his head as we walked to tell me he didn't think it was necessarily. "I think her mother still has business with us," he explained. "So, Mistress Layla, we should be fine."
"I hope so." I would very much like for this black feeling in my chest to be proven wrong. "We are falling behind. Let us catch up."
"Of course."
Author's Note: And here's Flemeth! Yay! And Cleon's stubbornness finally wears off. Haha… I can never seem to write Flemeth as a harmless old woman. I have to show off her creepiness.
Nuada and Cleon have more talking with Flemeth here simply because unlike the others, they know (or, rather, have a very strong hunch) of who she is. Nuada more so mostly because he's not the one that's crippled. Also, Cleon's taught to be respectful; Nuada was taught to not trust her. For those wondering about the 'my lady' insult, I'll explain it better in another chapter.
If you're curious about the nicknames she gives the group, it's based on their name meanings.
Next Chapter – Preparing for the Joining with Aiden
