A/N: Sorry for the wait. I did warn you though. Haha. Wrote this in a rush while I had time between tests and still have internet available, so forgive me any mistakes.

Chapter 13

I shot for the sky,

I'm stuck on the ground,

So why do I try?

I know I'm going to fall down.

I thought I could fly,

So why did I drown?

I never know why,

It's coming down, down, down.

-Jason Walker, Down.

For just a moment, the world seemed to stop. Isabela stared at the spot where Tristan had stood just moments before, her eyes wide, her breath caught in her throat, the sound of Sonja's screams ringing in her ears. The wooden deck beneath her feet seemed to spin as she stumbled forwards, staring in panic at the roiling blue waters far below. Tristan's dark head bobbed briefly in sight, and then disappeared. Isabela didn't hesitate. She hoisted herself onto the railing and balanced precariously for a brief moment, before gracefully diving overboard. She plunged headfirst into the icy water, the shock of it sending sharp pinpricks of pain shooting across her tanned skin. The current swirled around her, drawing her deeper, clinging to her as she struggled towards the surface. She broke free, sucked in a sharp gasp of air, and plunged down again. Tristan may have been many things, but he wasn't a particularly strong swimmer. He was still beneath the water, struggling wildly, his limbs flailing against the current. She grabbed hold of his arm tightly, hauling him upwards. His head broke the surface and he sucked in another desperate gasp of air.

"Are you out of your mind?" Isabela screamed in his ear. He turned towards her, seemingly startled to find that she had jumped into the ocean after him. His face was pinched against the cold, his blue eyes bright with fear. Another wave broke over their heads before he could answer her, but she held tightly to his arm, helping to keep him afloat.

"I have to get to shore," he yelled, his face contorted with agony.

"Tristan, this is madness!" she gasped out, clinging a little tighter to him as another wave crashed around them. "Let's just get back to the ship,"

"There's not enough time," he shouted back desperately. "We're close enough to swim back,"

"Tristan…"

He met her gaze stubbornly. "I'm going, Isabela. Are you going to help me or not?"

"Fine, Maker damn it! Let's just get you out of this water!"

Still clutching him firmly, she began to swim towards the shore and Tristan did the same, his face contorted with pain. Their progress was agonizingly slow and they were battered about by the waves and the current as they swam. Isabela held her tongue, forcing back the wild questions that were whirling around her head. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening to him, it could wait until he was safely on dry land once more.

"Fly away damn it," Tristan muttered to himself, as she half dragged him through the icy ocean. She glanced back at him fearfully, wondering if Abigail's cousin was starting to lose it. They were getting closer to shore. The waves around them were growing larger, more violent. Isabela still clung to him as best she could, her expression grim. She wasn't sure Tristan would've been able to make it had she not been helping him along. Eventually they staggered out of the shallow water and onto the beach and Isabela fell to her knees in the sand, gasping with exhaustion. Tristan sank down beside her, his body shaking with pain and cold. The wound in his stomach had opened once more, bright red blood mingling with wet sand beneath him. Isabela's face paled as she caught sight of it.

"What the hell…"

"We have to keep going," he cut across her, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "We have to find her,"

"Who?" she yelled, her frustration finally getting the better of her self-control. "Who do we have to find? What the hell is going on Tristan?"

"I'll explain later," he muttered, staggering back to his feet. He pressed his hand back against his wound, healing it for the second time. Then he raised his bloody hand and lifted the amulet he wore from beneath his soaked cotton shirt, gripping it tightly. For a brief moment his cobalt blue eyes shone like lyrium.

"Shit!" Isabela flinched backwards, staring at him with wide gold eyes. For a moment his glowing eyes had reminded her of Anders when Justice came out to play. Rising to her feet, Isabela wondered warily if Tristan had a 'stowaway' of his own. He raised his arm, his hand hanging limply.

"That way," he whispered hoarsely, his index finger twitching briefly in the direction of the rocky crags of Sundermount. "I need to get closer to her. I need to talk some sense into her. She's frightened,"

She's not the only one, Isabela thought darkly. She squashed the thought instantly. She didn't have time for fear. She had a healthy appreciation for it, and she'd experienced it more times than she would care to admit, but she never let it control her.

"When this is over…" she began.

"Yes," Tristan replied softly. "When this is over I'll tell you everything. Now give me a hand,"

She shifted closer to him, allowing him to drape an arm over her shoulder, supporting a little of his weight. They pretty much staggered across the beach, stopping every few minutes or so for Tristan to catch his breath. The fear that Isabela had managed to calm was slowly creeping back with every stolen glimpse she took of the Warden's face. Whatever was happening to him seemed to be stealing the very life from his body. His usually golden tanned skin was steadily turning pale and grey. He didn't look fit to be conscious, let alone walking. Sand shifted to rock underfoot as they finally made it off the beach. They kept walking, moving along one of the well-worn rocky trails that led to the mountains, battered about by the ever present and tormenting wind as they went.

"Isabela!" Varric's voice echoed loudly around them. The pirate lifted her head, relief washing over her as she caught sight of the blonde haired dwarf and – directly behind him – Aveline and Guardsman Donnic. They had appeared quite suddenly from one of the meandering pathways that cut across the trail they had been walking upon, all three of them with their weapons drawn.

"What happened to Tristan?" Aveline demanded, her eyes widening as she stared at the raven-haired Warden.

"There's no time for that!" Varric muttered, shaking his head. "We have to get back to Hawke!"

"Abby?" Tristan gasped, his voice painfully weak. "What's happened?"

"A blighted dragon!" the dwarf yelled. "They're being attacked by a dragon!"

For some reason the news that his new found cousin was being attacked by an enormous, fire-breathing lizard didn't seem to worry Tristan in the least. In fact, he seemed down right relieved.

"Take me to her," he ordered, and Isabela had a strange feeling that he wasn't referring to Hawke.

"This way!" Varric ordered, before charging up the pathway they had been following. Tristan eased his weight off of her shoulders as they walked, somehow managing to keep up with Varric's gruelling pace, though Isabela could see the toll it was taking on him. Each hurried step he took was accompanied by a hiss of pain. The sounds of fighting suddenly came from up ahead, followed by a bellowing roar of pain and Tristan broke into a stumbling run. He was the first into the clearing, already almost at the dragon's side before Isabela had the chance to realise what was happening.

"Get back," he yelled to Hawke, who whirled around in shock as he came upon her. The enormous, pitch black beast seemed to freeze at the sound of his voice, turning its head away from Fenris, who had been defiantly holding the dragon at bay with his greatsword, despite the blood that was pooling around his feet from his wounds. Tristan lifted one hand to his amulet, clutching it tightly as he raised his other hand into the air. His fingers glowed blue with magic for a brief moment, before rushing forwards, enveloping the dragon in a haze of pale blue light. With another, softer cry, the dragon spread its enormous wings and swooped upwards, flying away.

For the second time that day, the world seemed to stand still for just a moment as they all stared upwards, tracing the dragon's movements until it disappeared among the clouds high above.

"That was incredible!" Varric yelled, moving towards Tristan. The Warden turned back to them, flashing a cocky grin. His skin no longer held the grey pallor it had just moments before, the weakness was gone from his body, the pain banished from his eyes. He suddenly looked the picture of health, Isabela noted.

"What the hell took you so long?" Abby demanded, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. The embrace only lasted a moment before she was rushing to Fenris's side, laying healing hands upon his wounds.

"That was amazing Tristan," Merrill marvelled, moving towards them. The little elf seemed the least scathed of the three of them who had been battling the dragon. "What did you do to the dragon to make it fly away?"

"I've never seen anything like that," Donnic added. He was staring at Tristan with open admiration. "You really are a hero,"

"I didn't even know there was a spell that could make a dragon run scared," Aveline added shakily.

Tristan shrugged one shoulder, still grinning. "The perks of being a Grey Warden, I guess. We're scary enough to frighten off dragons,"

They all laughed at that, still staring at him in amazement, all of them believing that he had somehow hurt the dragon enough to chase it away.

Isabela didn't believe it for a second.

Tristan hadn't hurt the dragon at all. He had healed it. And in so doing, he had healed himself. He turned his head towards her, meeting her gaze, his smile faltering a little as she stared at him. Hawke suddenly reappeared at his shoulder, a healed but slightly shaken up Fenris at her side.

"What did you do to it?" she asked. "And more importantly, where the hell did you come from? You have brilliant timing you know,"

"Hey, what can I say," Tristan teased. "A hero is supposed to show up at the right place at the right time. It's his Maker given duty,"

"Right," Hawke replied sarcastically, rolling her blue eyes. "Well whatever you did, I'm glad you showed up when you did. We were pretty much done for. That dragon… I've never seen anything like it before,"

"You're right," Aveline said, her brow furrowing. "I've never seen anything like it before, either. It definitely isn't from around here,"

"It was beautiful though," Merrill sighed.
"Really?" Varric replied with a snort. "I hadn't noticed. I was too busy thinking about how it was going to kill us,"

Isabela sidled up to Tristan's side as the others bickered, each covering their fear and relief by offering up the inane conversation. She grabbed his wrist and he glanced down at her, the quiet amusement fading from his eyes.

"Now," she whispered, so only he could hear. "I want answers now. Or I tell them what really happened,"

He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

"We should probably head back," he said aloud. "In case that thing decides to come back,"

Abby nodded her head. "Agreed. We're in no fit state for round two with that monster. Not yet, anyway,"

"Yet?" Tristan arched one brow.
"It's living too close to the city Tristan. And it's started attacking humans. We're going to have to deal with it,"

"I agree," Fenris said, speaking up for the first time. "That beast must be killed," he began to walk out of the clearing and Abby fell into step beside him, followed closely by the others. Isabela trailed at the back of the group, with Tristan at her side. Aveline and Hawke began talking strategies for their next attack as they walked. Tristan's expression grew darker with each passing moment. He waited until they had reached the beach again before suddenly grabbing Isabela's hand.

"We're going to take a walk along the shore for a bit," he called to Abby. "See you back at the Hanged Man later,"

Hawke turned back towards them, her brows arching in surprise. "You and Isabela?"

"Uh-huh," Tristan replied.

Varric gave them a suspicious look. "A sunset walk along the beach… that's almost… romantic,"

"Write a friend fic about it," Tristan suggested nonchalantly.

"Just be careful," Aveline advised, before continuing down the path after Fenris, who hadn't bothered to stop. Donnic followed dutifully after her.

"Fine," Abby sighed. "I'll see you two later then. Maybe. I think I might need a shower and a sleep more than a drink. Don't think you're off the hook either. I still want to know how you did that!" she added, giving Tristan a firm glance. He grinned.

"Go home Abby. I'll drop by the mansion tonight okay?"

She nodded her head and left with Varric, whose glazed eyes suggested he was already mentally plotting out the chapters for his latest friend fiction.

"Let's take a walk," Tristan said quietly. Still holding her hand, he led her back down onto the beach. Isabela fell into step beside him, watching him impatiently as he obviously sifted through his thoughts, trying to find a way to begin.

"The beginning is usually as good a place as ever," she said wryly, and he gave her a surprised glance, confirming her suspicions.

"The beginning… Sure…" he sighed. "I guess that would be about five months ago now,"

"What happened five months ago?" she probed, when he hesitated again.

He sighed and glanced down, meeting her gaze. "That's when I met Umbra,"