"Wait... You want us to what?" Alistair spluttered. "You want us to go into the Korcari Wilds, return to Flemeth's hut without a guide and kill the Witch of the Wilds?"
Deylan just continued looking at him soberly. Everyone was still tired from the long night of celebrations the previous evening.
"Oh, well, if that's all just sign me up. I always thought dying a horrible, bloody death before fighting the archdemon was the way to go."
"Deylan, what brought this on? Flemeth is Morrigan's mother. Why would she want her dead?" Ilaria's voice was calm and steady but Deylan could see the apprehension in her eyes.
"Morrigan has discovered some of her mother's well kept secrets. If she is to survive the Blight, Flemeth needs to be dealt with."
"And that's all you're going to tell us?!" Alistair bellowed. "You want us to storm off into Maker knows what because you've been sneaking in to that little..."
"Alistair!" Ilaria's voice was sharp. Her warning expression sobered him.
"Fine. You're the leader. We'll do whatever you want. I'll be waiting outside to learn my fate." He stomped heavily out of the room.
Everyone else had been strangely silent. Deylan watched the faces of the people he'd come to consider friends, some of them even family. His eyes settled on Ilaria's face last. She was carefully examining first Morrigan, who sullenly looked out a window in the far corner, then him.
"Deylan, I understand why you're asking us to do this but I just need to know... Is this important enough to risk the Blight destroying Ferelden? Is there no other way to protect Morri..."
Morrigan's voice was cold and hard. "There is no other way."
Deylan watched Ilaria look at the ground for a moment before speaking.
"You do realize, taking on this task... it might save Morrigan's life but could cost the lives of others."
"I do."
"I'll let Bodahn know we're leaving in the morning."
The rest of the group filed out solemnly after Ilaria leaving Deylan alone with Morrigan.
"'Twould seem our nights together have not gone unnoticed," Morrigan commented.
"Did you think they would?"
"I thought, perhaps, none of the others cared enough about my comings and goings to notice."
"If you think no one else cares for you, you don't know Ilaria as well as you think." His voice held no anger; it was a simple statement of fact.
Morrigan had been looking at him but turned her eyes back to the window at his statement. Heavy raindrops tapped against the glass making their own soft music.
"I do not understand her."
Deylan's relationship with Morrigan had begun simply. They provided one another with warmth and comfort. But at some point, things had slowly begun to change. He approached her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand and placed a light kiss on her lips. Pulling back, he looked at her tenderly.
"Ilaria is not like us. She's from another world. Love comes easily to her. It's not a challenge like it is for..."
"It is weakness," Morrigan pouted slightly as she turned away.
"No, not for her." Deylan looked toward the door. "It's her strength."
As they left the garden house they'd been meeting in, most of the party headed back toward the castle. The rain, which had been sprinkling lightly when they arrived, was now coming down in a heavy torrent. Since she needed to head into the village to speak with Bodahn, Ilaria waited beneath the overhang to see if the storm would lift slightly. She didn't like the idea of a long walk in the cold rain. When nothing had changed after several minutes, she gritted her teeth and stepped out into the garden. She was nearly to the road when Alistair stepped out from behind the thick trunk of a tree, blocking her path.
"So you're just going to go along with whatever he wants, no questions asked?" His tone was neutral but had a hard edge.
"Some things simply need to be done." She tried to edge around him on the path. He shifted his stance to block her again.
"Getting us all killed needs to be done?"
"Keeping Morrigan alive needs to be done." She pushed past him. Even with the cover of the blossoming tree overhead, the rain had still soaked her through. Her clothing clung to her, her cloak was a weight behind her and her hair was plastered to her head.
"As far as I'm concerned, we'd all be better off without that bitch!"
Ilaria stopped and spoke without turning to face him. "He loves her... and right now, for him to get through this, he needs her alive."
"So it's that simple. Someone is loved and suddenly it's okay to sacrifice the lives of your friends to keep that someone alive?" His tone was harsh, angry and hurt.
"Sometimes, loving someone gives you the hope you need to keep everyone else alive."
"Yeah, but I guess that works better if they love you back."
"She does love him," she said softly, just loud enough for Alistair to hear her.
Ilaria couldn't handle anymore. She could feel the frustration and anger rolling off of Alistair and it was needling her in places she couldn't deal with. Pushing away the feelings that were threatening to break through her carefully built wall, Ilaria rushed out to the road and headed to Redcliffe Village.
They were packed and ready to go the next morning. The Arl provided them with extra supplies, repaired all their armor and sharpened their weapons. Most of his horses had been killed when the demon took over Redcliffe but he sent them with nearly half of what remained to speed their journey. Sten refused to ride but they had enough to share amongst the others, excluding Shale who called the horses "filthy beasts of burden." Dax happily bounded up and down the road and through the nearby fields. Deylan rode with Morrigan in the lead followed by Leliana and Wynne. Alistair rode alone at the end of the line. His weight and armor was enough of a burden. Just ahead of him, Zevran rode behind Ilaria, his arms wrapped around her waist. Alistair was sure the elf was sitting closer and holding on tighter than absolutely necessary. Bits of their conversation occasionally floated back to him. He caught only the odd word but couldn't help cringing when Ilaria's laugh chimed in the air.
"It seeks the attention of the fire mage."
"What?" Alistair had forgotten that Shale was just behind him.
"I have seen how it looks at her and how it dislikes her attention elsewhere."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he responded sullenly.
"It does. But I shall not discuss it further."
Alistair ground his teeth, holding back a response that would give away far more than he wanted to reveal. He hoped his horse would poop on Shale's feet. The thought gave him a moments respite.
When they stopped for lunch, Alistair watched as Zevran helped Ilaria down from the horse. He still thought every touch of Zevran's lingered too long. He sat away from the others as he ate, stewing over dark thoughts. When Leliana called to him, his response held more of a snap than he intended. He apologized and brushed his behavior off as fatigue.
They set up camp that night in a secluded area that would be easy to defend. The next morning they planned to leave early to confront Flemeth while Morrigan, Shale and Leliana remained behind. Musing over what Ilaria had said, Alistair watched how Deylan and Morrigan interacted with each other that night. It wasn't obvious, but he noticed small things he hadn't before: a tender look or soft smile, how close they sat while they ate and, of course, that they disappeared into her tent together. He wondered if maybe Ilaria was right and that this is what Deylan needed right now. The realization made him more accepting of their current mission but one look at Ilaria sitting with Zevran and Leliana left a hollow pit in his stomach. He went to bed that night without finishing his dinner.
Ilaria had never been to the Wilds before. Mist swirled around the trunks of ancient trees. It seemed shadows flitted just out of her vision. She was uneasy. As Flemeth's hut came into view, the uneasiness settled deep into her gut leaving her with a haunting premonition. She could sense unbelievable power in the air which only increased her foreboding.
"And so you've returned. No doubt Morrigan has convinced you to do her bidding. And what have you brought with you?" The wizened old woman slowly approached Ilaria. "Old magic in this one, yes," she said leaning in close. "And what's this? Dragons blood, I think. Very old and long ago..." She chuckled darkly. "And you didn't even know. Foolish child. Even the old families in Tevinter have lost so much. But that isn't all, is it?" Leaning in close, Flemeth whispered, "Death left his mark on you, my dear."
"Flemeth," Deylan's voice was filled with authority... and a warning. "You know what Morrigan told us. You know we've been to the Circle. Tell me now, is it true?"
Flemeth stepped back towards her hut. She looked as if she was thinking. With some distance between herself and the witch, Ilaria couldn't repress the shudder that ran down her spine.
"That tale has been told many times; sometimes I have told it myself. But let's just skip to the ending, shall we? Do you kill the crazy old witch or does this tale take another turn?" Flemeth's smile was cunning and cruel.
"What do you mean? Will you release Morrigan?" Deylan asked.
"For now. I will come for her eventually, but she doesn't need to know that. I'll offer you a bargain. You leave her, tell my devious little daughter that I am dead and she'll be none the wiser."
"She wants your grimoire," he stalled.
"Take it. It means little to me."
Deylan hesitated for a moment before responding.
"I can't allow you to return for her later. I won't lie to her."
"Very well then. You've chosen your fate. Let us hope you don't regret it."
Before any blow could be landed against her, Flemeth shifted into the form of a high dragon. She almost seemed to laugh as flames flickered around her jaws. After that, everything happened so quickly, Ilaria only had time to react. She did her best to keep her distance but the Flemeth-dragon moved so quickly it was difficult to keep enough space between herself and thrashing claws while she cast.
After a long battle, Flemeth was bleeding from several long, deep cuts in her hide. Ilaria watched as Alistair jumped to make a killing blow. Flemeth's reaction was almost too quick to see. Just as Alistair's feet left the ground, Flemeth snapped her head around, plucking Alistair from the air and crushing him between her jaws. Ilaria screamed as Flemeth thrashed her head back and forth until there was a sickening snap and she dropped Alistair lifelessly to the ground.
Ilaria channeled as much energy as she could into a frost spell that began at Flemeth's legs and spread upward quickly. Noticing what see was doing, Deylan soon joined in. Before Flemeth could counter them, her feet were frozen to the ground by several inches of frost. Taking advantage of her immobility, Sten charged at her chest and drove his long blade deep toward her heart. As she began to collapse, he withdrew the blade and ran it up the exposed neck. Flemeth was dead as she struck the ground.
Ilaria stopped casting and ran to where Alistair lay motionless, panic clouding her vision. She used a spell to quickly catalogue his injuries: broken neck, internal bleeding, more open gashes than she could immediately count, broken leg. As she examined him, she could feel his heart as it slowly beat. Soon, it stopped.