A special thanks to MirandaBasilisk and Kris for their kind reviews. Sorry about the wait, working overtime, but this chappie is a doozie. Sorry about all the typos so far, I will get better once I get a working keyboard!
Chapter 4: Broken Bones and Broken Hearts
"Keep going Aela!" Alistair yelled. "I'm right behind you!"
Aela wiped the back of her gloved hand over her still-bleeding cheek, which had never been bandaged. She had Biter in her hand, her training dagger in the other, and with them she hacked the darkspawn down.
Three floors of darkspawn had tried to overpower them. Since the Joining, Aela found her vision cleared, her swings stronger, and her instincts sharpened. But every time she sliced into a wretched, rotten darkspawn, her heart twisted beneath her chest and her head filled with waking nightmares. It took every leaderly bark from Alistair behind her to keep her focussed.
Once the last of the darkspawn had been killed, Aela put her hands on her knees. She sucked in air and tried to catch her breath while Alistair rolled his shoulders. The mage behind them searched his pockets for more lyrium and was disappointed when he found nothing.
"We should have lit that beacon an hour ago," he said harshly. "Maker's breath, those things are everywhere."
Aela forced herself up the staircase. Her legs were bleeding and some bones were broken, but nothing compared to her new-found fear: if she found no sign of Fergus in the Wilds, he could be on the battlefield, or at least close by. If he was on the battlefield, he needed Loghain. If he needed Loghain, she needed to light the beacon. Spurred by her brother's potential suffering, Aela climbed up the stairs two at a time with Alistair close behind her.
All of a sudden, Alistair seized Aela's arm and held her from the door.
"What are you doing?" the mage asked hurriedly. "The beacon is in there!"
"I know," Alistair growled. "Aela, do you feel that?"
Aela was new to the Taint, but she felt her heart spasm beneath her breast. Something was in there, something big. She nodded and looked at Alistair, silent. Alistair pursed his lips and nodded once, signalling her to open the door.
When the mage and soldiers ran in, they immediately skidded to a halt.
Aela at the time did not know the name of the beast in front of them, but Alistair knew very well of the Ogre that stood hunched in the middle of the beacon pyre. To Aela, she saw a gigantic monolith of a creature, larger than a horse, and in the shape of a darkspawn. Huge, wide horns extended from the back of its head, and his jaws dislocated with every movement of his frothing mouth. He was eating something noisily, crunching on bones and splitting organs open. The Ogre reared his head and glared at them for their intrusion. He slammed the tower guard's body against the stone, spattering whatever was left into a meaty heap. He roared and Aela felt her legs turn numb, a different type of numb than the emissary poison.
"Andraste's ashes," the mage choked. Aela's eyes were so wide, she thought they would fall out. She didn't breathe, and Alistair had his sword up.
"That's not good," Alistair breathed.
The Ogre charged them. Aela peeled off to the side and covered her head as the Ogre threw his fist forward. The mage was not so fortunate, and his head gave out between the wall and the Ogre's fist. The Ogre locked eyes with Aela and ran for her instead. Aela scrambled to her feet and tried to flee. She slipped on a puddle consisting of something grotesque and she fell onto her chest. She rolled over and skittered back. She smelled its breath and squeezed her eyes shut. .
"Oi! Nug humper!" Alistair yelled. The Ogre halted and growled while Aela managed to regain her stance and disappear. Alistair crouched and repositioned his sword in his hand. "Yeah, you, the one who crawled out of Dumat's arse."
It was as if the Ogre knew what Alistair had said, and the beast scowled. It bellowed and turned his body to stand in a confrontational position to the warrior, before -
Aela leapt onto the beast's back, sinking her training dagger into the Ogre's neck. The Ogre howled. Aela screamed and reached around with Biter, sinking it into the right side of the Ogre's chest. Again and again she pulled the dagger back and hacked away, screaming and screaming. Blood spurted onto her face from every cleave to his neck.
Alistair stared for a moment at the spectacle before he ran for the Ogre and slashed at its thighs. Blood fountained forward, and Alistair smiled just before the beast kicked him back. Alistair went airborne for a moment before he crashed into the ground. Aela cried out, yelling at him to get up, fearing the worst. He sat up and groaned. Luckily, he was only winded, but his sword had been knocked out of his grip.
The beast reached over its horns and seized Aela. He tore her from his back and squeezed her in his fist. There was a horrific crunching sound. Aela felt her pelvis break on itself and the feeling was so great, she almost went faint. Instead, the sound Aela made was almost inhuman, a scream that betrayed every ounce of pain that her little body experienced. She sobbed as the Ogre chortled. Alistair eyes widened as the Ogre flailed her around, knocking around the broken pieces of her glass figure. It brought her close to his frothing mouth.
"Alistair!" Aela cried. She slashed her sword across the Ogre's face desperately, splitting his face ear-to-ear. It shrieked in shock and anger. Alistair frantically probed for his sword. "ALISTAIR!"
"Shit!" Alistair yelled. He turned to the beast and hesitated, thinking for a moment before he sprinted to the beast and shoved his hand into the gashes Aela had created. He clenched a fist around the meat he felt and squeezed, looking over his shoulder at Aela's fear-stricken face. Aela saw the determination in his eyes and gritted teeth as he squeezed harder still.
The Ogre flung Aela into the beacon pyre to free his hand. She hit the wood and crumpled against it, her world going dark. But Alistair held fast and waited for the Ogre to drop to its knees. The Ogre grabbed him, but when the Ogre ripped Alistair away, Alistair pulled a fistful of the Ogre's internal veins and arteries and muscles with him. While seizing under the pain, the Ogre loosened his grip on Alistair, who limped away and took up a sword. The Ogre clawed at his neck, drowning in his own life force, before Alistair cried out gallantly and thrust his blade into the beast's mouth. It fell with a vibrating thump.
Alistair wasted no time running to Aela, who was coming to. He was afraid to touch her.
"Light it," she spat through her teeth, weak and suffering. "Light the damn thing."
"I can't," he stammered. "You're on it."
"Move me."
He didn't want to. Her hips and legs were mangled and useless. She bled from her mouth and her cheek, and everywhere else looked misshapen, broken. She reached up with one hand and clasped his.
"Please, just do it."
Alistair frowned and gripped her hand. "Deep breath."
He pulled her from the pyre and she groaned and cried. She tried her hardest, but the sounds still escaped her lips until Alistair stopped. He grabbed a torch and lit it. He stepped back and returned to Aela. He knelt next to her.
"Where does it hurt?" he asked, placing a hand on her cheek.
"Is it lit?" Aela struggled to say.
Alistair nodded. "It's lit. Where does it hurt?"
Aela shook her head and tried to give him a reassuring smile, her teeth red. "I'm not going to make it."
"Don't say that, we'll find you healing magic."
Those were the last words her mother said to her father. She found herself finally understanding his haunting refusal. She bit back bitter tears. "I want... to see..."
She gestured to the window as best as she could until Alistair tried to delicately pick her up. It hurt everywhere, but Alistair managed to drape her arms over his shoulder. His legs shook as he stumbled towards the window over debris and broken bodies. They looked out and Alistair went rigid. Aela squinted at the marching lights of Loghain's army.
"That's not the right way," Alistair muttered. Aela's anger peaked.
"What?!" Aela cried frantically.
"They're leaving!" he replied. "That bastard, that traitorous no-good lying bastard!"
The battle below looked bleak, and Aela and Alistair were quieted as they realized the soldiers that had survived so far were easy pickings. That included them.
The door smashed open and darkspawn spilled in. Aela fell to the ground as Alistair grabbed his sword from the ground.
"Run!" Aela yelled. Alistair shook his head once, daring them to approach.
It was a short fight. A Hurlock with a club took one blow from Alistair, but did not fall before cracking its club over Alistair's head. The warrior fell to his knees before collapsing on the ground. Aela tried to pull herself up. The strength just wasn't there. Before another darkspawn could deal her own final blow, the tower shook violently.
The roof was torn off and bricks fell onto the unfortunate enemies below. A dragon clawed its way in and snapped its jaws before turning its massive head to Aela, who had finally had enough. Her eyes rolled back as the dragon lunged forward and closed its hungry jaws around her broken hips, and she saw nothing but blackness behind her dying eyes.
Aela didn't expect her dreams to end, but when they faded away and she felt wakefulness approach, the first thing she did was furrow her eyebrows.
"Did you know that a human body can burn for up to three hours?" a vaguely familiar voice asked. Aela peeled open her tired eyes and looked over. She blinked at Morrigan, who was looking up from a book, her figure seated neatly in a fur-lined chair in the corner. "'Tis truly fascinating, if I do say so myself." Morrigan closed her book with one swift movement and stood. She waved the book in front of Aela. "The Chantry stories you people revere spare many details. I'm surprised they left the whole bit about Andraste in there."
Aela sat up with little effort. "What happened? Where am I?"
Morrigan took it upon herself to cross her arms and cock a hip. "What happened was your 'ally' fled the battlefield with the rest of your 'trusted' army, and everyone else perished. As for where you are, you're in my bed." Morrigan squinted at Aela. "You're very welcome."
There was a moment of silence. "Everyone else?" Aela clarified.
"Aye, everyone. Your companion is hardly taking it well."
Aela pursed her lips and clenched her teeth. She removed her blankets gently and looked at her bare legs, which were completely unmarked and free of scars and gashes. "My injuries..."
"Were severe!" Morrigan scoffed, as if Aela had inconvenienced her. "Your hips, for one, were absolutely mutilated, and your legs were as useful as the Circle. Luckily, mother dearest," she sighed with annoyance, "forced the pieces back together."
Aela ran her hands through her hair. She kept her eyes shut. She didn't entirely want to think of the sound her pelvis made when it was shattered. The remembrance of the pain alone was enough for her mouth to taste bitter. Then she remembered Alistair.
Aela left the bed and grabbed her armour from the other side of the room. She pulled it on sloppily, ducking around Morrigan, who followed her constantly with her eyes. Her weapons had been returned as well, and she liked them in her hands. In a tattered and blotch-riddled mirror, Aela took one second to look at her face.
Along her cheek was a thin mark. She squinted at it and brushed her fingers along it. The scar was thick and noticeable, and made her face look striking.
"It wouldn't heal without a scar, oddly enough," Morrigan remarked. "Usually my mother's magic avoids scars, but that cut... 'twas quite stubborn, more so than myself."
Aela dropped her hand and turned back to Morrigan, grabbing Biter and her dagger from the floor. "Thank you, Morrigan."
Morrigan's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline in surprise. "'Twasn't my help that saved you but... you're welcome."
She wasted no time in opening the door and finding her way out of the hut.
"Ah, finally," Flemeth's voice cackled as she looked Aela up and down. "Perfect. Try to talk some sense into him, will you?"
Alistair stared over the swamp. His usual strong stature was replaced by defeated shoulders and weak knees. His arms were crossed over his chest as if it would protect him, and when Aela approached him, he didn't look at her. Aela stood slightly behind him, and he refused to look at her.
"Please, don't. One witch is enough, thanks," Alistair murmured.
Aela forced her smile back. "You always I assume I'm someone I'm not. First, you thought I was a messenger, now - "
Her companion whirled around and gawked at her. He grabbed her and crushed her against his chest.
"Thank the Maker," he said hoarsely. "I thought you were gone, too." He pulled back and scoured her body for injuries. He brushed a thumb over her cheek innocently. "Only a scar. Thank Andraste."
"Pah! Thank Flemeth," Morrigan interjected. But Flemeth put up a silencing hand and screwed her eyes on Aela and Alistair.
"Didn't I tell you, boy," Flemeth articulated sharply, "that you may have desired my company?"
"'Desire' isn't how I would have put it... but I suppose I should be grateful."
Flemeth harrumphed and waved her hand at Alistair. Morrigan stood next to her and Aela was realizing she had a hard time seeing any difference in the two, besides appearance. For some reason, the idea brought her to think of Fergus. She bounced on her feet in sudden remembrance and she stepped towards the two witches.
"Have there been any other wanderers?" Aela asked hurriedly. "Scouts, soldiers even? You see... a friend of mine was sent into the Wilds to scout and I couldn't find any sign of him in my own travels."
Morrigan raised an eyebrow, mouth twisted. "A friend?"
"Aye, a friend," Aela replied, annoyed. "I need to find him."
Flemeth shrugged. "The WIlds are unforgiving. If your friend fell into a swamp, would we know? Probably not. So I wouldn't put wagers on it. That being said, he could have gotten swept up in Ostagar."
Aela's heart sank, but she nodded once. "Then I have to go back to Ostagar."
Alistair shifted beside her, clearing his throat of an emotional lump. "We both need to find things in Ostagar before we... figure out our next move."
"Which, I presume, has to do with your treaties?" Flemeth inquired. Aela blinked and took a moment to remember the documents she had on her person. Her shoulders felt heavier. Alistair nodded and Flemeth clapped her hands together as if the discussion was finished.
"Well, now that our army is ready," she said, "I best give them their parting gift, eh Morrigan?"
Morrigan stormed ahead and shoved through the Wilds brush, Alistair and Aela trying to keep up. "Parting gift?! Parting gift?!" she cried and a shrill and furious voice. "Am I nothing to that woman?! Or am I nothing but a common object?!"
The young witch, the first companion of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, spat out every curse word she had knowledge of as she plowed through the forest. She barely left any time for the Grey Wardens themselves catch up. The road back to Ostagar was different than the last time; this time, every step weighed the soldiers down more, dreading the sights they'd be seeing.
The smell of burning wood was the first to itch their nose. Death followed closely. The stench made them have sour expressions, and Morrigan's banter had ceased for the time being as they stepped into the muddy battlefield.
"I don't know... if I want to see him." Alistair ran the back of his hand over his nose. Aela agreed and she put a hand on his arm, trying to be reassuring.
"Just stay together."
They were slowly drifting over bodies, enemy and ally, old and young. Aela hated the idea of young boys on the battlefield, and she despised the sight of them dead on the frontlines. They carried on until they both slowly stopped. They looked ahead and Aela tighted her grip on Alistair's arm.
Another Ogre, one slightly larger than the one that had been at the beacon, lie in the muck, stiff and rank. Out of its chest protruded two blades of amazing craftmanship, a dagger and sword duo that even Aela could recognize as Duncans. Alistair hiccupped and shook.
They took a moment to stare before Aela broke away from Alistair. She carefully scaled the monster corpse and heaved the weapons from its body with some she jumped to the ground, she offered the pair to Alistair.
"You lost your sword saving me last night," she said shakily. Alistair had a small, tear-filled smile as he grabbed only the sword. Aela could tell Alistair found it heavy. She held onto the dagger.
"You're going to need something better than that training thing," Alistair retorted meekly. "That way, we'll both have something."
They never found Duncan's body, and they reentered Ostagar Fortress. They split up while Morrigan explored with morbid curiousity. Alistair disappeared while Aela immediately marched to the dog kennels. She had left Duckling there when she had left for the tower, and she never came back. She wanted to check, but of course, he was nowhere to be found. Aela bit back anger at the loss of her mabari hound, but that didn't stop her from looting chests for supplies.
The first scattered chest mostly held healing supplies and potions, but one gold chest stood out to her. It took her four tries to bust the lock open. She lifted the lid and peered inside. There was a shield and some tattered documents within that made her sit and reach inside. The shield, she noticed, was of the finest make, and there were two fighting dogs upon it. She gulped when she recognized the Theirin crest. Upon the back, the inscription 'to Maric, both my sword and shield in this world, from Loghain' stood out like a flower in a swamp.
She wanted to break it. Loghain's name burned the back of her throat with a passion, and for him to betray his true friend's child in battle made her bloodthirsty. She took pause before she bitterly strapped it to her back. She grabbed the documents next and flipped through them, seeing certain important exchanges between King Cailan and the Empress of Orlais, promising him more Grey Wardens to help with the Blight. She pocketed that particular postage and read more. Most were old battleplans and some letters from his wife Queen Anora that were not romantic in nature.
Alistair walked to her with another chest in his hands. He dropped it infront of her, his face red. "I can't open this blasted thing. It's Loghain's."
Aela pursed her lips before she popped open the lock with slightly less difficulty than King Cailan's. She wrenched open the top and Alistair rummaged around inside it, muttering. He handed most of the papers to her while he pocketed the coin for the cause. He had a few scattered letters in his hand. He read one after the other quickly and faltered on one. He frowned and snickered. Aela looked up from her own letter as Alistair shook his head slowly.
"That bastard," he spat. "Listen to this: 'My lord, I am elated to inform you that Highever has been seized as you desired, and the Cousland line is all but destroyed...'"
Aela froze.
"'Bryce and Eleanor were both killed, along with their grandchild and daughter. Their son is marching out on the battlefield; I suggest, If I may, sending him out in the Wilds before word reaches him, even though most are convinced it was an unfortunate fire. But With the Couslands gone, I now announce my official title as Teryn of Highever and Amaranthine. This marks a huge advantage for your next step.
"'I will meet with you in Denerim once you return. I hope you manage to slip out before things get complicated. Signed, Arl Rendon Howe.'"
Alistair shook his head. "I can't believe it... traitors are sprouting up and about like - Aela?"
His eyes wavered on her rigid form, her skin pale and clammy. The warrior reached a hand to the young woman.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
She shirked from his hand and cringed. "That's awful," she managed. Alistair had no idea Aela herself was the daughter Howe presumed dead, and it took every drop of willpower within her to mask her grief. Truth be told, she wanted to kill something, a trait she had never felt before. Rage was a new feeling to the noble lady, but it began to consume her with every breath. She distracted herself by pulling Maric's shield from her back. She thrust it into Alistair's hands before she stood.
Alistair choked on his own breath. "This... this is King Maric's."
To Aela's surprise, instead of immediately replacing his cracked iron shield, Alistair held it away from him. "I can't take this."
"Your other one is broken," Aela said hoarsely, the letter burning in her mind. "You need something that will last you."
"No, you don't understand," Alistair interjected. His features became dark and uneasy. "Aela, really, I'm fine."
The rage threatened to spill over as Aela wrinkled her nose. "The king is dead, Alistair. And we have no coin to replace that plank you call a shield. We are alone, hungry, and lost, so I suggest you stop being difficult and put the damn thing on your back."
He was stunned by her words; the tone of her voice in her own ears made her grimace. She spun around and stomped to the bridge. She flicked away tears before Morrigan saw them, anger brewing beneath her skin. When Morrigan saw her, she was wise enough to let it be, even though it was obvious.
Aela shoved past her and began the long walk across the Ostagar bridge, which had miraculously survived the attack, albeit barely. Alistair and Morrigan silently followed, Alistair rolling his shoulders under Maric's shield. He hated it, but Aela could care less as to why. When he snatched her arm suddenly, she was ready to whirl around and crack him over the head with her fist - an act spurred by misplaced anger towards Howe, not him, although his head would do - but his face made her reconsider.
He was white as a ghost, his body rigid. He gulped and opened his mouth as he looked onward. Aela followed his gaze. She almost didn't recognize King Cailan's body, but he could not mistake the dirty golden hair and the the figure. His body had been morbidly staked oh a Wilds tree that had been wedged into a large crack in the bridge. His body could be seen from any other outpost in Ostagar. His swelling corpse attracted the birds of the Wilds, which had already feasted on him. Morrigan cocked her head to the side at the sight.
"I dare say, 'tis quite cruel, even for my standards."
"Aye," Aela agreed numbly. Alistair still gripped her arm. "There's nothing we can do, now."
Alistair tugged on her. "We need to burn him," he declared firmly. "This is disgusting."
Morrigan crossed her arms and frowned. "'Twould be foolish to send smoke into the air at this hour. We don't want unwanted eyes on us, I would think."
Aela hated to agree, but the sight of Cailan's body exposed to the elements made her very uneasy.
"Please," Alistair insisted. She thought for a moment. If it were Fergus mounted upon the gnarled branch, she'd try to send him to the Maker as well. She wasn't sure why Alistair felt the same need, but she stepped forward and climbed the step holding the tree up. Holding her breath, she grabbed Cailan's left hand and found his royal ring. She pulled it off and almost gagged before she jumped down. She pocketed the ring, mentioning something along the lines of waste not, want not, and she asked Morrigan to light the body. The witch placed her hands together to make a small ball of fire which she tossed onto Cailan as if he were a pile of objects.
Aela turned away from the light of the flames and swallowed down her sorrow. As a Cousland, she was born into a life of nobility and expectation. When she was born, Bryce and Maric discussed a marriage between their children, but when Loghain's wife gave birth to Anora, Maric betrothed Cailan to her instead; it was not unexpected as Loghain and Maric remained allies after the Orlesian war. Aela was glad she was not his wife then, but still felt pain for her queen. She felt the ring in her satchel with her raw fingers and thought to herself for a quiet moment before she heard a whine ahead of her.
A small shape stumbled towards her. She felt her spirits lift and her mouth break out into a smile.
"Duckling!" she cried. The mabari hound limped towards her, tongue hanging out and his breaths wheezy. Morrigan and Alistair both shared a confused look as Aela raced to him, jumping over bodies and tripping over her own feet. She was crying and laughing at the same time as she fell to her knees and Duckling crashed into her. Duckling licked her face and tried to contain himself as her two companions approached with caution.
"Is that… a mabari war hound?"
Aela nodded happily as she cooed to her slightly injured hound. Morrigan wrinkled her nose.
"I can smell him from here, and Alistair is standing right next to me."
Alistair frowned. "Please don't, I'm not in the mood. Anyway, we need to go. Lothering is close by, and I really don't want to be here."
While Morrigan and Aela and Duckling led the way out, Alistair lingered for a moment and stared at the burning body of his late king, and felt an ominous feeling growing on his back under Maric's shield, or maybe it was the shield itself that weighed him down. He was not sure which the cause of the burden was.
The battle raged on, and Aela's party was holding strong. Their teamwork kept them on their feet and their weapons in their hands. But this fight was different. This fight trumped all others they had fought, and Aela was already feeling unsure of her plan. She always looked to Riordan to make sure the senior Grey Warden was standing. So long as he was, she did not panic.
But injuries were already adding up. Wynne was grimacing as blood blossomed her robes and even Sten had the slightest look of uncertainty in his eyes. There were just so many creatures, so many bodies, so much blood, black and red in the mud and on the soldiers.
The last of the immediate horde was defeated, and as the second wave ran in, hands grabbed Aela and shoved her forward violently. "Get them into the castle!" Sten ordered. His huge hands hauled Aela off the ground and heaved her forward. Alistair was being shoved, too, and Riordan grunted when Oghren kicked him to move faster. Duckling took the rear and bit at their ankles to make them run twice as fast.
"Sten, let go!" Aela yelled.
"No. I'm to get the Grey Wardens into the castle."
"Don't focus on me, focus on yourself!"
Sten crashed into a side door in the castle, a small reinforced wooden door that peasants ran back and forth from during a normal day. But now, it was an escape route. The party flooded inward and Eamon and Teagan slammed it shut. They blocked the entrance with any furniture they could find while Aela wrenched out of Sten's hands.
"Do not jeopardize this group, Sten!" she yelled angrily. "You focus on yourself, not me!"
The party went quiet at Aela's outburst. Sten merely gave his Qunari version of a shrug. "You have had a common mission, as have I. All I am meant to do is make sure you make it to the final stand. That is all we are meant for."
Aela closed her mouth and had no argument. "You are more than that, Sten. You are all more than that."
"Not today," Wynne said as she healed herself. "Do you think I would be out here if it wasn't with you?"
"The fight cannot end without us," Alistair interjected. "We need all the help we can get, although I would rather Duckling bark at the enemy and not me."
Duckling barked happily at Alistair. Alistair rolled his eyes.
But he was right. Aela looked over her party and felt her courage tremble. She didn't want her friends, her new family, to sacrifice themselves. That was Riordan's job. She wanted them safe, and she was dragging them into battle.
Alistair pulled Aela close in a non-romantic way. "Come on, we have little time."
She unsheathed Biter angrily and turned to Eamon and Teagan.
"Where do we go from here?"
Teagan shifted his weight. "Through the throne room. I will lead the way. Come."
The party rushed out. Alistair led the way into the throne room, a fitting gesture as he was now Ferelden's king, but it was not trumpets and cheers they heard. The castle rocked and everyone stumbled. Aela and Alistair and Riordan alike cringed and reflexively covered their ears. The scream of the archdemon, the feeling of his blood thirst, made them all gasp. Riordan instantly blocked it out and led them onward with new determination wile Alistair took an extra moment to regain control.
Aela, however, had always had problems blocking the archdemon from her mind, and she howled as it growled at her, screamed at her, caressed her mind pervertedly.
"Come, Grey Warden," he seemed to say. "I cannot wait to see your face as I destroy everything you love, everything you hold dear, everything you have ever cared for, in the most horrible and terrifying way you could possibly imagine."
Alistair yelled at Aela to block it out. Her nose began to bleed, she was trying so hard to beat him out.
"I will wring their bodies like rags and spill their blood onto my children, my army, and you will watch before I let them devour you, inch by inch, until you are nothing but a screaming memory. Your bones will be left as wind chimes to your castle, so the spirits of your ancestors will hear your song of death."
Aela doubled over. Her party ushered her onward as light fixtures fell from the ceiling. She fell to her knees, clutching her head. Alistair tried to pull her forward. Zevran slung his bow across his chest and helped him.
"You are weak. You are but moth wings in a fire."
"Enough!" another voice bellowed in her mind. Ease began to fill Aela's mind as a womanly voice echoed against the archdemon's presence. "You will not hurt her, you will not stop her. She is the one who will bring you down, she is the one you will tremble beneath."
It was the woman Aela saw the night of her Joining, the woman who had forced her from the Fade, back into her body.
"Run, my child. Run and slay this abomination. Your mind is strong, your will is invincible. Fire runs in your veins, use the burn to carry you on."
All the voices stopped at once and Aela regained full consciousness. She kicked herself onto her feet. Alistair grabbed her and gave her a shake.
"Aela!" he cried. "Andraste's embers, what is going on?!"
Aela ran her hand over her nose to wipe away the blood. She spat to the side and rolled her shoulders.
"I don't know," she said hoarsely. "But I don't want to find out what happens if we fail."