15. Our Situation Has Not Been Improved

Tasha had no idea where she was when she awoke. Instinctively, she reached out with her magic. "Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased." Startled, she withdrew the search and bolted upright. Every part of her body ached and it hurt to breathe. But she was alive and alive was by far better than dead.

"Excellent. Yes. Good. All right, how long was I out? Need to stop taking unexpected awake breaks. Not a fan of losing time," she murmured aloud, temporarily forgetting the other person with her.

"'Twas only a few hours," came the unexpected reply. Tasha jerked her head around as Morrigan quietly padded around the bed. "Or perhaps more. I am uncertain how long you were unconscious before Mother rescued you and your friends." The mage carefully placed a hand on Tasha's forehead and evidently was satisfied with what she found because she moved away again.

Hope suddenly bloomed in her chest and she hated the feeling. "You mean Alistair and Medb?"

"The clever elven woman and the suspicious, dimwitted one from before, yes." The relief that flooded her would normally have made her ill but at that moment, she just didn't care.

"What about the rest of the Grey Wardens? And the king?"

"How much do you remember?"

"I...I remember the Tower. I remember the ogre. I remember arguing with Alistair because I can't light fires to save my life." A small smile curled her lips at that memory. She blinked and looked up at Morrigan who watched her with unreadable tawny eyes. "But that's about it."

"The man who was to respond to the signal quit the field. Those fighting in the valley were massacred."

For a moment, Tasha stared at the other mage, unable to wrap her mind around the meaning of those words. The relief she had been feeling sank to the bottom of her stomach like lead. "Weren't there any survivors?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded small.

"A few stragglers, yes, but they are long gone." The apostate watched her with sharp eyes.

The only sound in the small room was the fire crackling in the hearth. Everyone she'd met at Ostagar was dead. Granted the number was small but still. More weight settled on her soul. Then her eyes snapped up to meet Morrigan's. Tasha couldn't restrain the horror that widened them. "But that means- Maferath's hairy left buttcheek!" she swore, throwing off the covers. The cold air drew goose flesh on her bare skin, giving her pause. "Where are my robes?"

"I doubt you would like to wear them in the state they are in. I have some spare clothes should you prefer to wear them."

"Whatever. Fine. Thank you." Tasha dressed faster than she'd ever dressed before, barely aware of what she was actually putting on before bolting outside, bare feet sinking into the swampy ground. "Alistair!" She bellowed, drawing his attention. He turned and the relief that pummeled her weakened her knees. Two long strides later, he gripped her in a bone-crushing hug, lifting her off the ground. She didn't understand most of what he was mumbling but eventually she managed to pry him off her.

When he actually took in what she was wearing, his eyes nearly bulged out of his face and he determinedly tried to look everywhere but at her even as a deep flush crept up his throat to the tips of his ears. "Ummm, Tasha? Where are your clothes?"

"Robes are the least of my concern right now, Alistair!" Yet she was suddenly hyper-aware of the amount of skin she was showing. She shook her head impatiently. Not important. "Is it true?" She swiveled her head toward Morrigan's mother. The old woman watched the scene with clear amusement. "Are they all dead? Are we the only ones left?"

"Does it matter?" A sharp keenness gleamed in her predatory eyes.

"Of course it does!" She snapped back. "If they're all dead then that means we...that we're...Maker's breath." The fight left her body as quickly as it had come and she slumped against the door frame, hands covering her face. Shock coursed through her, accompanied by quiet jolts of pain in her torso. "We can't stop the Blight now."

"Yes, we can." Tasha glanced up to see Medb drop the hare she'd caught and killed near the fire. Hand on her hip, bow slung over her shoulder, and red hair twisted into a practical braid, she looked every inch the elven warrior she was.

Tasha dropped her head back into her hands, fingertips pressing into her hairline. "How? The Grey Wardens are dead."

"Not all of them," Medb growled. Tasha's head snapped back up at the ferocity blazing from her friend. The grief was still there but it was slowly being covered by purpose.

Then Tasha realized what the elf was saying and every muscle in her body went stiff. "Of course." She smacked herself in the face. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Trying couple of days. It's understandable. But Loghain will pay for what he's done to our brothers and sisters. Their blood is on his hands and I intend to make him remember that. Vir Banal'ras," Medb hissed. Her green eyes seemed to glow in her anger that was just short of boiling over.

"And Cailan," Alistair said quietly.

Shame fluttered through Tasha as his sorrow and grief flared. "What?" Medb asked, eyes narrowing a little.

"He killed Duncan and Cailan. He killed his king, his best friend's son, his son-in-law."

"Son-in-law? But that means…" Tasha trailed off, eyes widening as her mind backtracked. She shook her head as she inhaled sharply. "That's treason."

"Even more reason to take his head off." Medb shrugged.

"Grey Wardens don't interfere in politics," Alistair informed them. Tasha's eyes narrowed at the shiver of unease that went through him. He was hiding something, or at least trying to convince himself of something.

"Then if we encounter him on our way to defeat the Blight, I'll be more than happy to take his head off," Medb replied curtly.

"Oh, yeah. The Blight. How do we go about doing that exactly?" Tasha asked, starting to feel a little buffeted by the conflicting emotions she was sensing.

"Kill the archdemon."

"Then I guess we have a dragon to kill." Tasha turned to the old woman, who had watched the exchange with barely constrained delight. She frowned. "You never mentioned your name."

"Names are pretty but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do."

Medb and Tasha both froze, eyes wide, staring at the old woman. "You are Asha'Bellanar?" Medb breathed before murmuring a string of elven. Tasha glanced at her, one eyebrow lifted. "My people's name for Flemeth," the elf explained.

Curiosity assuaged, she turned her full focus back to Morrigan's mother. "If you are indeed Flemeth," the name choked slightly in her throat, "you must be very old and powerful."

"Compared to you, yes."

Tasha bit back the flare of pride-fueled anger, damping down her magic. From the slightly lifted eyebrow, somehow Flemeth knew what she had restrained and Tasha was once again confronted by a wave of magic unlike anything she'd ever felt before. "Well, thank you. We're off to go kill a dragon and save the world."

Alistair frowned. "No Grey Warden has ever defeated an archdemon without half a dozen armies at his back."

Tasha turned to him, eyes narrowing. "So what do you propose we do? Stand around and bat our eyelashes and wait for the archdemon to land in our laps so we can kill it?"

"We could go to Redcliffe and seek aid from Arl Eamon. I know him, he's a good and honorable man. Plus he wasn't at Ostagar. He still has all of his men."

"Well, Loghain was supposed to be an honorable man too," she pointed out. "And he committed treason which also meant killing his son-in-law. Personally, I think that makes him more of a mouse turd than an honorable man. Honorable men don't just kill their son-in-laws."

Before another quarrel could break out, Flemeth mildly commented, "You have more at your disposal than you think." The Wardens stared at each other before Alistair slapped his hand to his forehead.

"Of course!" The treaties!" Alistair exclaimed. The deep sorrow hanging over his head like a personal stormcloud lifted briefly. Tasha grinned, fueled by what they were feeling.

"We can get aid from several places with those, yes?" Medb asked. Alistair nodded, the start of a smile at his lips.

"Can we do it, then? Can we actually be Grey Wardens and do this?" Tasha asked.

"We are Grey Wardens," Medb reminded her. "We can do this. We will do this. We did not survive the Joining just to lose this land to the Blight."

"Thank you, Flemeth," Tasha said, approaching their benefactor in several soggy steps. She gripped her hands and just as quickly dropped them as though she had touched something scorching. In truth, it had been the sudden well of nearly alien emotions, startling her into jerking away.

"Do not thank me yet. There is one more thing you can do."

Morrigan closed the door to their home. "Shall we have three guests for the eve, or none?" The hostility was evident in her tone though she glared only at Alistair.

"The Grey Wardens are leaving, girl, and you're going with them."

"Such a shame. What?" Morrigan made a noise that in anyone else would have been a shriek.

"You heard me, girl. Last time I looked, you had ears."

Distress. The emotion flared bright and hot as a beacon, slicing at her. Tasha glanced over at the witch and her jaw tightened. She looked down at the marshy ground for a moment before she fixed her eyes on Flemeth. The old woman's power licked around Tasha's as amusement glinted in those yellow eyes. Mulishly, Tasha lifted her chin. "Thank you, but if Morrigan doesn't wish to join us, she doesn't have to. It's her decision."

"No one should have a decision taken from them," Medb echoed Tasha's sentiments.

Flemeth chuckled, though why she was so amused, Tasha had no idea. "Her magic will be useful. Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the darkspawn horde."

"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan's voice was higher than usual.

"You've been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. As for you, Wardens," Flemeth then fixed the three Wardens with sharp, predatory eyes, "consider this repayment for your lives."

Tasha's eyes narrowed. She got the distinct impression that Flemeth was playing a long game with them and the Circle-trained mage didn't know the rules. "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems? Outside of the Wilds, she's an apostate," Alistair eyed the witch uneasily. Three sets of glares landed on him, with varying degrees of heat.

"If you did not wish help from us illegal mages, perhaps I should have left you on that tower."

"Point taken."

"Mother, this is not how I wanted this. I am not even ready-"

Flemeth firmly cut her off. "You must be ready. Alone, these three must unite Fereldan against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

Morrigan studied her mother for a few moments, reluctance carved into her lovely face. "I...understand."

Flemeth turned once again to the Grey Wardens. "And do you understand? I give you that which I value most in all this world. I do this because you must succeed."

Something deep within Tasha, and echoed by the sudden flurry of her gift, warned the mage that Flemeth was lying. And in the next moment, Flemeth somehow knew. Tasha swallowed and fought to keep from taking a step back.

"We understand," Medb confirmed when Tasha couldn't get the words out of her mouth.

"Allow me to get my things, please." Tasha didn't take her eyes from Flemeth. Her fear, as irrational as it seemed at that moment, spiked higher. Her magic coiled at the ready. She tracked Morrigan's movements in the house with her gift, every sense thrown open in case Flemeth decided to attack them. And the old woman knew. Morrigan came out of the house and stood before them. "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of here as our first destination. 'Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or, if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours." Her lip curled at the idea of remaining silent and she tilted her head up, almost defiantly.

"No." Tasha shook her head. "No, I prefer you speak your mind." One of Morrigan's eyebrows arched as she studied the other mage curiously.

Flemeth made a noise that could have been laughter though in all honesty, Tasha couldn't quite tell. "You will regret saying that."

Morrigan's temper spiked and she glared coolly at her mother. "Dear, sweet mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment." Sarcasm dripped from the bitten-off words.

"Well, I always said if you want something done, do it yourself or hear about it for a decade or two afterwards." A chill of foreboding went down Tasha's spine at Flemeth's words.

"Farewell, Mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut."

Flemeth made a noise in the back of her throat that was vaguely similar to a snort. "'Tis far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight."

Fear. Guilt. It flared strongly enough that Tasha could feel it like an itch along her back. "I...I didn't...All I meant was…"

"Yes, I know. Do try to have fun, dear." Tasha was startled to hear affection in the old woman's voice, the first hint of which she'd heard since they'd met.

"Killing darkspawn is always fun," Medb commented, a fierce, toothy grin on her face. "Payback." Her lips curled away from her teeth and Tasha glanced sharply at her. Prickles of pain danced across her gift.

AN: Ahhhhh, I love the smell of foreshadowing in the morning. Technically evening my time but whatever.

Let me know what y'all think, please and thank you!