The path back was easier. Wynne and Leliana appeared almost lost in reverence as they discussed the temple. Brehan had insisted on skinning both the dragon and the drakes they'd encountered, and their packs were heavy with their findings.
They found Genitivi still looking around the entry chamber. He'd managed somehow to cajole Shale into brushing aside snow and ice. He heard them approach, and his eyes widened. "Welcome back! You were gone for quite some time. Well? Did you find it?"
Saitada smiled. "The Urn? Yes."
"What... what was it like? Coming to the Urn, I mean?"
She smiled, and gestured for him to talk to Leliana and Wynne. The two immediately began to fill him in on every detail. Her eyes went to the rest of her companions. Except for Leliana and Wynne, the rest all looked a bit disturbed by the events on the mountaintop. She couldn't blame them. She'd almost managed to put all the grief aside. Seeing Trian again brought it back. Her fingers wrapped around the amulet. They needed to get back on the road soon. It was easier to push it away when they traveled.
#
She took first watch, letting the others find their tents. She sighed, then blinked as Jerath sat down near her. "Are you alright?"
"Just... tired, I guess. It's been a long day."
"The stories always seem to leave out the mud and uphill marching in the rain."
"I suppose that is one nice thing about the deep roads. No rain."
They sat there in silence for a few minutes. "Want to talk about it?"
She gave him a wan smile. "You don't have to."
He held up a hand. "I promise not to let any of the others know our fearless leader has feelings just like they do."
She shook her head, then leaned back and looked at him. "Trian could be a pain in the ass. There were days in which I couldn't stand him. But he was still my big brother."
"Trian did not die by your hand."
"No, he died by my silence. I knew something was going on... I could have warned him, done something... And instead I just let it happen. Maybe I deserve this exile."
"Had you spoken of your suspicions, what would he have done?"
She considered the question. "He'd have told me I was foolish, that Bhelen didn't have it in him, that I was imagining things... but maybe he'd have been on guard. I don't know. I suppose it's foolish to play the 'only if' game." She glanced back at him, and realized blood was dripping from the hand in which he held his copy of the amulet. "Jerath... your hand..."
He glanced down, his expression startled. Carefully he opened his hand, revealing the crushed amulet inside. Shards of glass and metal penetrated his skin. "Ow", he said ruefully.
Saitada began picking the pieces out. "Perhaps I should ask if you want to talk about it?"
He twitched a shoulder. "I don't like... things... digging into my head."
"Brehan mentioned you didn't answer the guardian."
"There was no answer to his question. I did not get there in time to prevent any harm to her... but I went. I brought them home. All it cost me was everything. And if I had the chance to do it over, I would change nothing. I don't need forgiveness or absolution from some cheap imitation of my cousin."
She looked at him, then hugged him. He started to pull away, then let her hold him for a moment. "I don't think it was ever about getting forgiveness or absolution from them... but from ourselves. I need to forgive myself for Trian. Cathiel needed to remember her father was proud of her. And perhaps you needed to remember why you are in this fight in the first place." She smoothed the poultice over Jerath's hand, and on impulse, reached up to ruffle his hair. "You are a good man, little brother. And I don't like how these spirits and demons seem so comfortable digging into my head, either." She thought back to the circle. "It was bad enough in the fade."
"I'm sorry about Duncan."
Saitada gave a wan smile. "I know it wasn't him, but it just brought back Ostagar, and learning he was gone and there was nothing left. It's like Alistair said, nothing to remember him by."
"That's not entirely true."
"What do you mean?"
"In Denerim, I needed a sword. He gave me one of his." He offered her the sword. "Perhaps this would be better in your hands."
She took it from him, and caressed the hilt. It was a twin of the one Duncan had carried to his death. She wondered how she'd not noticed that before. "Thank you."
"You are wrong, you know."
She blinked. "I am?"
"If Duncan had not passed by and seen something in us, all of us would be dead now. You say there is nothing to remember him by, yet you've already done the impossible because of him. He isn't gone, Saitada. You are making him immortal. Him, and Trian."
"I..." A tear ran down her cheek. "Thank you."
The elf nodded. "Sleep. I'll take the watch."
She nodded, and went to her tent. She made it to the bedroll before the rest of the tears came.
#
Jerath looked across the fire at the woman who'd joined him shortly after he'd sent Saitada to her tent. "You've started to ask me a question three times now."
"Well..." Morrigan poked at the fire.
"Just ask."
"Who is Shianni? What did the guardian mean, broken and brutalized?"
"Did I tell you how I became a Grey Warden?"
"Only that you were conscripted."
"Duncan conscripted me to save me from execution. I killed the Arl of Denerim's son for raping my cousin. Vaughan and his friends came to the alienage to make sport of our women. He kidnapped a few of them. Duncan loaned me a sword, and my friend Soris and I went to take them back. We got there...a bit too late for my cousin, Shianni."
"Duncan did not come with you?"
"Better that he didn't." Though given the way Ostagar had ended, he doubted it would have made much difference by this point. Except that if Duncan had known what he was back then...
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
He met her eyes. "I killed them, Morrigan. When I left the Arl's estate, the only ones that still breathed were the few servants that did not try to raise an alarm at my approach. I killed the guards. I killed the other lordlings. I killed Vaughan."
"I see."
"There was a witness to Vaughan's actions in the alienage, a human priestess. When the events of the estate were uncovered, the guard knew where to come. They wanted revenge for the justice I took, and brought torches with them, to burn the alienage in retaliation. So I stepped forward and confessed to my actions. Duncan then conscripted me right out of the hands of the guard captain."
"As you expected."
He shook his head. "No. At the time, I didn't know about the rite of conscription."
"You intended to die for your people?" She curled her lip slightly.
"I could die, or I could live knowing I had done nothing, again, like all the others, so many times. Death or a fate far worse. Easy choice."
Her nod was understanding. "Dead lion, or live jackal. And yet here you are, a live lion."
"Being a Grey Warden is a slower death, I suppose, but it is still, ultimately, a death. Just an opportunity for one more meaningful."
"You do not expect to live through this?"
"I never found what I expected from life to matter in the slightest. Why worry about the future, when the now holds so much possibility?" His voice was wry.
She gave a small laugh, then her voice became serious again. "I take it you would prefer the others not know of this?"
"They will expect me to be remorseful." He twitched a shoulder. "It gets annoying."
"It does, doesn't it?"
#
"So tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?" Wynne asked her. "I mean, I heard at the trial, but..."
"I was cast out to die in the Deep Roads, and found Duncan there."
"You survived the Deep Roads and the darkspawn that dwell there?" Wynne gave her a respectful look. "Truly, you were born to be a Grey Warden."
She touched the hilt of Duncan's sword. It was odd, how much more at peace she felt with it at her side. "I prefer this life. I can sleep more soundly, it seems. Being exiled has given me a freedom I never had before. Orzammar has forgotten me, but I will protect her."
"Sometimes it gives me comfort to think that everything will end up the way it's supposed to, that it will be alright. You were chosen; you survived the Joining when others did not. Perhaps it was meant to be."
#
"Tell me... are you really Flemeth's daughter?" Lenore asked, falling into step next to Morrigan.
"I assume you are actually asking whether Flemeth herself gave birth to me. Truly, I do not know. I once asked Flemeth that very question, and she merely laughed at me. 'Tis not inconceivable that she could capture a Chasind man, or perhaps change to a more attractive form to attract him willingly. I find it more difficult to imagine her with child."
Lenore considered a moment. "Could she have stolen you as a child?"
"It seems likely, does it not? In animal form a babe could easily be spirited away and raised as Flemeth's own. I do know the tales of Flemeth having many daughters, even though I have never met another. And Flemeth has always treated me as her blood."
"What if you have real family out there?" Lenore asked. If Morrigan did, perhaps they could find them. It might give Morrigan a better foundation. The swamp witch was intelligent and skilled, and Lenore wanted to like her, but she lacked social skills altogether. She rarely exchanged anything other than barbs with anyone but Jerath.
"I would have nothing in common with them, nor any need for what they might provide. Flemeth taught me everything I needed to learn. How to survive. The meaning of power. The truth of men. If other mothers do not teach these things, then I believe them the lesser."
"I suppose that's true." Lenore could see how Flemeth would believe it, anyway.
"You suppose it's true?" Morrigan looked at her in askance. "'Tis true. To indulge in love is to indulge in delusions. Surely a Grey Warden such as yourself does not believe otherwise?"
Lenore shrugged. "I'm not sure what I believe."
"An honest answer, if a somewhat vapid one. You shall learn in time, if fortune smiles on you."
#
Saitada rolled her eyes as Brosca, Lenore, and Zevran apparently took turns flirting with everyone in the camp. Cathiel looked ready to shoot Brosca by the time Alistair even figured out that Brosca was flirting. The young knight spent the next mile of road a shade just shy of crimson. Zevran managed to get Morrigan to soften a little before she figured out the joke and threatened to do him grievous harm.
The best part might have been when Morrigan decided to get in on the fun and flirt with Sten.
"You seem so deep in thought, my dear Sten. Thinking of me, perhaps? The two of us, together at last?"
"Yes."
"I... what did you say?"
"You will need armor, I think. And a helmet. And something to bite down on. How strong are human teeth?"
"How strong are my teeth?"
"Qunari teeth can bite through leather, wood, even metal given time. Which reminds me, I may try to nuzzle."
"Nuzzle?"
"If that happens, you'll need an iron pry bar. Heat it in a fire, first, or it may not get my attention."
"Perhaps it would be better if we did not proceed."
"Are you certain? If it will satisfy your curiosity..."
"Yes. Yes, I think it is best."
Saitada sighed. At least morale was high. Oddly, Sten seemed to be one of the few that got along well with Shale. The golem seemed to take great delight in antagonizing the others. Jerath managed to avoid some of the scorn by presenting the golem with a gift of magically charged gemstones, which the golem used to decorate itself. And by avoiding it.
She caught a snippet of conversation from Brosca, and her eyes widened. "Stone, are you three keeping score?"
"Well, yes. That is how the game is played, no?" Zevran asked.
"Cept now that you know, can't use you as a tie breaker," Brosca said.
She buried her face in her palm.
"We could use Jerath." Lenore glanced over at where he was sitting.
"The last time he was involved the three of us ended up sleeping with a pirate," Brosca said.
"True. Good times," Zevran said. "Except there do not appear to be any pirates nearby."
"I... am going to walk away now, and pretend I never heard this conversation." Saitada sighed. At least morale was high.
#
Brehan blinked at Wynne walked over to where he was adding ingredients to the stew pot. "So tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?"
He shrugged. "I was tainted and only the Joining could save me."
"Then you became a Grey Warden out of necessity. But Duncan must have also seen something special in you. The order does not take in recruits just to save their life. You must be proud to be able to represent your tribe and the Dalish as a Grey Warden."
He shook his head. "The keeper forced me to go. I would rather have died." He sighed. "You see, I used to be something of an ass." He heard several sounds of agreement from the others around the campfire, and Brosca mutter something about past tense being inappropriate.
Wynne laughed softly. "Take heart, dear friend. You survived, even when you were not expected to. We do not know yet what lies in store for you, or the name you carry."
He handed her a bowl of the stew. "I just hope when Hahren Paivel tells the story around the campfire, it will be a good one. And not 'and then he tripped over his sword and was skewered by a Hurlock, the end.'"
#
Morrigan quickened her pace to catch up to where Jerath was taking point while Brehan ranged to hunt. "Tis a curious thing. I do not know how else to describe it."
Jerath glanced at her. "What? Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing is wrong. It... is a little embarrassing to admit, in fact. I am reminded of our first meeting in the Wilds. I had been in animal form for some time, watching your progress. I knew immediately that you were far more formidable than the ones with whom you traveled. I found you intriguing. Yet I resented it when Flemeth assigned me to travel with you. I assumed that, at best, you would drive me from your company as soon as we left the Wilds."
"Why would I do that?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
She sighed, and fidgeted a little. "I am aware that I have... little talent for forming friendships. To put it lightly. 'Tis something I know nothing of, nor ever thought I needed. Yet when I discovered Flemeth's plans, you did not abandon me. Whatever your reasons you fought what must have been a terrible battle without hope of real reward."
"It was not such a terrible battle, trust me." He still wasn't sure if he'd call it a battle. He'd won, yes, and the dragon had fallen. But it still felt more like a test.
She hesitated a moment. "Even so, you went. No one has ever... 'twas unexpected, that is all. The extent of my usefulness does not explain the interest and kindness you have shown since the wilds. You could as easily have ignored me entirely, yet you did not." She sighed. "You will need to forgive me for speaking so awkwardly... but do you suppose we have become friends, you and I? I have nothing to compare it to."
He smiled. "I would certainly hope so."
"Indeed? Remarkable. I have been with men physically, those who lusted after me and even professed love... but friendship with a man? I did not know 'twas even possible. Tell me, could there ever be anything more... between you and I? Have you ever considered it?"
His pace slowed for a moment. "I have considered it, yes." She had to be ten years older than he was, but he'd be lying if he said otherwise.
"And what about now? We could be together, you and I. As more than friends. If you wished it."
"I... I do." He looked at her. "I wish it."
"As do I." She hesitated a moment, then leaned forward and kissed him. "This, too, was... unexpected. We are not in camp, so come... let us continue what we are doing. For now."
He nodded.
#
Wynne sat down next to where Brosca was shuffling a deck of cards. He glanced at her, then dealt her into the game. She picked up her cards as Zevran and Lenore picked up theirs. "So tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?"
Brosca shrugged. "It's better than being a casteless tunnel rat in Orzammar."
"I have learned a little of the strict caste system of the dwarves, and I apologize for saying this, but it seems terribly backwards. You seem to have taken to life as a warden."
He laughed. "It is nice to be seen as something other than a brand. I just hope I can show the strength Duncan saw in me."
She gave him an approving look before turning towards Lenore. "Irving told me about how you became a Grey Warden, and that unpleasant incident that occurred prior to your departure from the Circle."
Lenore added her bet to the pot. "I still can't believe Jowan was that stupid."
"Stupid or desperate or just curious... he's not the first, he won't be the last. But that aside, you're a Grey Warden now and perhaps I presume too much by saying this, but the Circle is proud of you."
Lenore smiled broadly. "I am grateful that I can use my gift for something good."
Wynne gave her a proud look. "You are a true child of the Circle – raw power tempered with learning, wisdom, and the desire to serve others."
"I'm glad you came along, Wynne. It's good to have another mage to talk too."
"Have you encountered many abominations apart from the ones in the Circle Tower?"
"Well, there was Connor..."
"Ah, yes, Connor. Of course. The first time I saw an abomination, my blood turned to ice. It was months before the nightmares stopped. It was the knowledge that I could easily become one of them that frightened me the most."
Lenore gave a small shudder. "Seeing the monster that you could be is unsettling, yes."
"One slip... all it takes is one slip, and everything you are is simply gone... replaced by madness. And there is no turning back. Or at least that's what they say."
"You have doubts?"
"Of late I have begun to wonder if... if there is any way an abomination can be... cured. Or if a mage could be so possessed and still retain their sanity. Their humanity."
Lenore watched Zevran put his bet into the pot, then folded down her hand. "If one retains one's humanity, one is not an abomination."
"Yes... it is madness and cruelty that define abominations. If those are lacking, if the mage remembers the person they truly are then... they are not an abomination. I never saw that. Thank you for showing me another way of looking at it."
#
"'Tis cold in my tent, all alone." Morrigan smiled at him playfully.
Jerath raised an eyebrow. He lifted his hands in mock confusion. "What do you want me to do about it?"
She chuckled. "Why, it just so happens that I find you... quite warm."
He gave her a serious nod. "Let's see this tent of yours, then."
"So you shall come to my tent?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But whatever shall we do in that tiny little space together while we wait for it to warm?"
He smiled. "I'll leave that up to you."
She held open the tent flap. "Good. Then let us waste no more time with foolish talk."
#
They were four days out from Redcliffe when they were ambushed. Brehan heard the twig snap underfoot and called out a warning. He wasn't quite fast enough. Sten caught an arrow in the shoulder. Morrigan caught one in the side. Lenore sent a fireball in the direction from which the arrows had come. Jerath was a pace behind the fireball.
Brehan had just drawn his blade when a mabari leapt down from some rocks and landed on him. It tried to get hold of his arm, and then Griffon tackled it, snarling and ripping with his teeth. "Good boy," Brehan said as he rolled back to his feet and joined the fray.
Jerath was raising his blade over the leader of their attackers when Leliana called out, "stop. Don't kill him."
He frowned at her, then looked down at the man laying at his feet. "You better have a good reason for this," he said as Leliana walked towards him.
"He is no common bandit. None of them were. Their weapons and armor are of fine make, and they are well-trained." She looked at the man laying in front of Jerath. "You know what I am talking about, don't you? Who are you?"
The man coughed up some blood. "Someone who regrets taking you on. Was told it would be an easy job. Kill the little red-haired girl, deal with the others as we pleased." Brehan glanced at Saitada, who narrowed her eyes and frowned. Jerath touched his blade to the man's throat. The man pointed at Leliana. "Her."
"You... you came to kill me?" Leliana asked.
Brehan immediately moved to her side protectively. "Who is trying to kill Leliana?"
The man coughed again. "It don't pay to ask why someone wants someone else dead. I just need to know what to do, and where to get my money." He looked up at Jerath. "Ha, money! I'll be lucky to get away with my life, it seems." He gasped in pain. "Maybe we could work something out? You'll like the idea."
"Speak quickly," Leliana said.
"I've no real quarrel with you. Wasn't me that wanted you dead, but I know how you can find the one who does."
Brehan put a hand on Leliana's shoulder. "Your life for information then."
The man pulled a paper out of his beltpouch. "I have some directions written down on how to get to the house. It's in Denerim. Here... it's the best I can do."
Brehan bent and took the paper, offering it to Leliana. "Thank you." She looked at the man. "No leave. I never want to see you again."
Brehan narrowed his eyes. "Get lost, before we change our minds."
"Don't worry. I'll not trouble you no more." He started to move, and then Jerath's sword pierced his throat.
"What... we said we'd let him go."
"You said you never want to see him again." Jerath shrugged. "You won't." He walked back down the hill to where Wynne was tending to Morrigan.
Brehan cupped Leliana's chin, and lowered his voice. "Does this have something to do with Orlais?"
Her eyes widened, and she looked at the paper. "It could. You may be right."
"We'll deal with it, ma'arlath." He kissed her. "I promise."
#
Wynne approached Cathiel after they made camp that night. "So tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?"
Cathiel sighed. "Arl Howe massacred my family. Duncan helped me escape by conscripting me."
Wynne looked taken aback. "Arl Rendon Howe? The arl of Amaranthine? Why would he do such a thing to you?
She drew herself up proudly. "I am the daughter of Bryce Cousland, teryn of Highever."
"You are..." Wynne's eyes widened, and then her face became sympathetic. "You are the last of the Couslands? I had no idea... my lady."
Cathiel sighed. "I always took my family and our name for granted." She thought back to the temple. She knew it hadn't really been her father standing there, but still, there were so many things she wanted to say.
"There is nothing I can say to ease your pain. I am sorry. It is not so bad, is it, being a Grey Warden?"
She found herself shaking her head, and glanced over at where Alistair was training with Jerath and Sten. No, it wasn't so bad. "I will do my duty, but I won't forget what Howe did."
"Rendon Howe will get what he deserves, in time. Such deeds cannot go unpunished."
#
As they broke camp that morning, Wynne matched her pace to Jerath's. "So tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?"
He gave her a wry look. "Is it my turn now? The short story? I met Duncan. He conscripted me."
"Ah, you are keeping this tale to yourself, I see. Fair enough. Forgive me for prying."
He watched her start to walk away. Then he sighed. "Duncan took me from the Alienage and saved me from prison."
She looked back. "Ah, I see. Do you mind if I ask what you did?"
He gestured for her to walk with him. "I killed the arl's son for hurting my friends and family."
"Oh, I...I'm sorry. I should not have brought it up. It must be an unhappy memory."
"Don't feel sorry. I'm not." He watched her a moment. "I'd kill him all over again if I could."
It was a moment before she replied. "You say that with such cold satisfaction that it frightens me. But I can see no fault in your actions. I would have done the same. It sickens and saddens me to hear what men in power inflict upon those they ought to serve and protect. I have heard stories that some Templars who hunt maleficarum do not end the hunt with a clean death. That they subject the victim to countless... abuses and indignities before they finish it. But this is just a rumor."
"Sadly, one I can confirm. When Varla fled the circle, she came straight home. They came to her home with torches, though her family was still inside."
"Did no one stop them?"
"It is against the law, in Ferelden, to kill a human in defense of an elf."
"I... I did not realize that."
It was a minute before he spoke again. "Yes. They were stopped."
"I..." She looked at his face. "Perhaps I should not ask."
It was probably best that she didn't. He still remembered the look on his father's face when he'd come out of the house to find his son standing over the bodies of two templars, and the choking form of a third. "Varla left that night. I do not know what became of her afterward. We rarely learn the fates of those who go to seek the Dalish."
"Regardless of what happened in your past, I am glad you found a place with the Wardens, as I'm sure you are too."
"It is a good fight." He shrugged.
"I..." She hesitated, then glanced at him. "Thank you, for coming to my assistance, in the Fade."
"How much do you know of the Fade?"
"If you have questions, I will answer to the best of my ability."
"How much of the Fade is a reflection of reality?"
Wynne gave a small laugh. "I rather hoped you'd ask me an easier question than that. Many philosophers have struggled with that question. The Fade... it is part of Thedas, but separate. Place and time are less important than concepts and symbols. It can be shaped by dreams, and demons can change the landscape of the Fade to match what they see in the minds of mortal dreamers. They can be cruel, however, in the way they copy people and concepts of the real world, and the copies are rarely consistent. Belief and willpower are paramount in the Fade. It is shaped by perception."
"I went into each of your dreams, and saw what the demons showed you. Your fears, your desires. You fear failing your students. Cathiel wants nothing more than her family to be whole again."
"It is... strange, in a way, knowing you have seen my dreams. My nightmares."
"Your dreams tried to kill me. The injuries I suffered in the fade did not manifest as physical once we left the fade."
"No, they were injuries to your spirit, though nearly as fatal as the physical wounds might have been. There were a few moments after waking where I was afraid we'd lost you. But physical changes short of death do not carry over."
"You are certain of this?"
"Yes."
"One cannot be changed by the Fade?"
"One can learn in the fade, but physical changes, no. The only way for that to happen is..."
He nodded. "Possession."
"Yes." She gave him a reassuring smile. "But, I was there in the fade with you, and clearly you are not possessed."
When he spoke again, it was in a quiet voice. "You are."
"I... you..." She sighed. "How did you know?"
"I see it. Faith."
"How?"
He twitched a shoulder. "I was hoping you might know."
"Perhaps something to do with your own escape. How did you escape?"
"I stabbed things." He twitched his shoulder again. "Let's just... leave it at that."
"Interesting. There are mages with a special affinity for spirits, called mediums. Many are healers, and can go beyond the more simple healing magics."
"The difference between what Lenore does, and what you did for me in the tower."
"You've read something of it?"
"A few times, when you've healed someone more badly injured, it... looks different."
"Perhaps you have some measure of that talent yourself. I've never heard of it in a non-mage, but... it would make sense. Being in the fade caused the talent to manifest."
He glanced over his shoulder. "I have not said anything to the others."
"Why not?"
"It is not a demon. You are not an abomination."
"I..." She nodded, then met his eyes. "If that... changes..."
"I will make it quick."
"Thank you. "
#
Alistair took her hand as they walked. "So all this time we've spent together... you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us... will you miss it once it's over?"
She leaned into him affectionately. "It makes me tear up just thinking about it."
He laughed. "There'll be no more running for our lives. No more darkspawn." He groaned. "And no more camping in the middle of nowhere." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "I know it... might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to... care for you. A great deal." He sighed. "I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself. Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever... feel the same way about me?"
"I think I already do." They kissed. He grinned down at her. His voice was a bit breathless. "That... that wasn't too soon, was it?"
"No," Lenore's voice called out from behind them. Brosca and Zevran began registering their agreement with her. Cathiel shot them a glare before smiling at Alistair. She kissed him again. "I don't know. I need more testing to be sure."
He put his arm around her. "Well, I'll have to arrange that, then, won't I?" He almost immediately turned red as Lenore, Zevran, and Brosca began to call out suggestions. He shook his head. "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man." He laughed slightly as he looked back to see Wynne bonk Brosca lightly on the head with her staff. "Now let's get back to... what we were up tob efore. Lest I forget why we're here."
#
Two days out from Redcliffe, they were hit again. This time, they had somewhat better warning. Brehan alerted them to the darkspawn well before the creatures closed.
Wynne healed a wound Sten had taken, and started to walk on. She was just about past where Jerath was standing when suddently she started to fall. He caught her, bearing her gently to the ground. Lenore immediately rushed over.
"Unhh... I..." Wynne blinked up at them. "Fell."
"You're very observant," Jerath said, as he moved out of Lenore's way.
Lenore gave her a worried look. "Are you all right?"
Wynne shook her head. "For a moment there I thought I was... I thought it was all over..."
Lenore looked up at Jerath before looking back at Wynne. The others were starting to catch up to them. "Everything," Wynne said. She managed to get to her feet. "I... I will explain everything, when we are back at camp. Now is not the time."
Saitada gave her a worried look, but nodded. "Shale, mind staying close to Wynne?"
"I will keep the elderly mage from tripping again," Shale replied.
#
Wynne looked up to see Saitada and Lenore coming towards her. She sighed. "I think I owe you an explanation for what happened earlier."
Saitada nodded. "Yes. You had us quite worried."
Wynne sighed, and gestured for them to sit. "You should know that... something happened to me at the tower, before you came along." She rubbed the palm of her hand. "You spoke to Petra, did you not? She told you I saved her from a demon. I..." She inhaled. "Did, but I did not survive that encounter."
Saitada shook her head. "Uh... This case of death is taking a while to kick in then." She glanced at Lenore, and all trace of mirth died. Lenore's eyes were wide, and frightened.
Wynne looked down at her hand again. "Let me explain fully. I engaged a very powerful demon to rescue Petra. It sapped me of all my energy and will, and left me drained. It took everything I had to defeat it, adn when I was done I no longer had the strength to keep my heart beating." She closed her eyes. "I remember my life ebbing away; everything receded from me... sound, light... I remember being enveloped in complete, impenetrable darkness." She reopened her eyes. "And then I sense a presence, enfolding and cradling me, whispering quietly to me. The sensation is impossible to describe. I was being... held back, firmly, but gently, as a mother would a child eager to slip from her grasp. I felt life and warmth flowing through my veins again. I began to be aware of small sounds, and the discomfort of my hip pressing into the cold stone of the tower floor."
Saitada frowned. She looked from Lenore to Wynne in confusion. "So you were never really completely dead then."
Lenore shook her head slowly. Wynne sighed. "The Fade contains spirits both benevolent and malicious. The benevolent spirits seldom make themselves known, because they want nothing from mortals, unlike the demons. It was one of these spirits that saved me. Without it, I would be dead. And it has not left me. It is with me, even now, bonded to me." She met Saitada's eyes. "You see, I am supposed to be dead. It is the spirit that is keeping me in this world, and this is not the way of things. Perhaps the spirit did not expect this but it is weakening, gradually. I am living on borrowed time."
"I can't believe you kept this from me," Lenore said.
Wynne sighed. "I didn't know if you were ready to hear it. But now you know."
Saitada set her hand atop Wynne's. "Then we will make the best of that time."
She smiled. "Yes, that we will."
Lenore shook her head, then shook it again. "I have so many questions."
Wynne gave a small laugh and Saitada rolled her eyes. "When don't you?"
#
"So have you heard? Morrigan and him are... you know."
Leliana gave Alistair a disapproving look. "Have you nothing better to do than to spread idle gossip? And besides, he can probably hear us both. You're not being very discreet." She shot a look over to where Jerath was taking point again.
"No, look, he's not even paying attention."
"Hmmm. maybe. You don't... think that he's serious about it, do you? The woman is a vile fiend."
"Well, look here, now who's an idle gossip? Me-ow!"
"You're the one who started this, I might remind you. And I'm... well, I'm ending it!" Leliana stalked away from Alistair.
Brehan gave her an amused look as she matched her pace to his. "She's not that vile."
"Maybe." Leliana glanced over at Morrigan, then sighed and went to match her pace to the other woman. She tried a smile. "It's nice to see you two together. Love is such a wonderful thing, isn't it?"
Morrigan blinked at her. "What are you talking about? Is this more of your insipidness?"
"I... was talking about you and Jerath. You don't think the rest of us haven't noticed, I hope?" She began to wonder if Alistair had been mistaken. But then, he wasn't the only one to note that Jerath had spent the night in Morrigan's tent.
"There is nothing to notice. What you call "love" is nothing more than a wishful fancy."
Leliana shook her head. "Oh, you don't fool me! Deep down inside you must be glad of it."
"Let me tell you one thing, and then let us speak of it no more. Love is a weakness. Love is a cancer that grows inside and makes one do foolish things. Love is death. The love you dream of is something that would be more important to one than anything, even life. I know no such love."
"Oh." Leliana just stared at the woman.
Morrigan gave a slow, satisfied smile. "What I know is passion. The respect of equals. Things far more valuable that I'll not speak to you any further. Now begone."
Leliana dropped her pace back to match Brehan. "I hate her."
"I... heard most of that."
"Maybe you should talk to him."
"Right. It's been a few hours since the last time someone stabbed me." He frowned. "Maybe we should let Wynne or Saitada do it?"
"Are you afraid of him or her?"
"Yes?"