"Figures she'd go for an elf."
She sees Zevran tilt his head towards the red-headed dwarf with a raised eyebrow. "She who?"
They are at Ostagar now – what is left of it anyway. They pass corpses here and there, preserved by the cold weather brought about by the snow. It is all Filauria can manage to not weep and cry at the tragedy of it all. She knows Alistair is not faring any better.
"You and the Warden," Ogrhen answers, smirking. James trots closely behind him. "We all know what's going on there."
Filauria fights the urge to scoff. She wants to comment against Ogrhen's little 'misobservation,' but realizes that it would be rather useless to do so.
After all, Ogrhen has the tendency to reject other people's opinions when he is drunk.
…Which is all the time.
"Oh?" Zevran answers with a light tone. "Does that make you jealous my stout little friend?"
Filauria shoots him a glare at his non-denial. Zevran only winks back at her.
"Me? Ha! The last thing I need is another woman in my life!"
"One wife was enough for you, was she?" Zevran asks.
"Ha. Branka was only more slightly woman than I am – bristle-chinned poetess." Ogrhen reaches to his flask to take another swig of ale.
"Shocking that our fair Grey Warden didn't chose you instead."
Ogrhen shrugs. "Wonders never cease."
They encounter an ogre after that.
She could not fathom how anyone would put King Cailan to such a disgrace. And by the looks of it, Alistair isn't taking this any better than she is.
"Fucking darkspawn," her fellow warden says in between gritted teeth. There is tension in every inch of his body. His fists are balled so tightly that she can hear the grinding of the metal in his gauntlets. She looks at him sadly.
She had not been a grey warden for long, and she had not even met the fallen king before being recruited, but she is feeling this – this anguish in her heart. It is killing her – it is killing here to be standing in the middle of this wretched, blighted land, full of the bodies of the dead, corpses not even rotting because of the harsh cold.
She looks up. Cailan looks like he is sleeping – his face is peaceful. His face –
He looks a lot like Alistair, she thinks.
She cannot even imagine how Alistair feels. After all, this is his brother. Brave, majestic… dead.
She walks up towards Alistair and wraps her arms around his waist. His armor is cold against her skin, but she does not care.
This is the only thing she can give him.
Alistair does not embrace her back, but he buries his face in her hair. She is not sure, but she thinks he is crying.
She feels Ogrhen's and Zevran's stares, but she does not care.
She wants to cry. But there are no tears – tears are unreasonable, tears cannot bring the dead back to life –
"I'm sorry." This is the only thing she can give him.
They get moving to find the Darkspawn Cave, beneath the tower of Ishal. Their bags are heavy now, with all the weapons that they cannot even bear to leave behind.
Someday after the blight I am coming back to this place, she promises herself. Every one of these people deserves a proper burial. Every last one of them.
She feels the tell-tale pull of corruption inside her as the darkspawn approach. She reaches for her staff and aims precisely in between their eyes – a sure kill. Zevran falls to step behind her, just like he always does when they engage into combat. Ready to guard her back and protect her as she summons her magic upon their enemies. Every once in a while, he disappears into a flash, stabs a Hurlock archer, or an emissary firing in the distance, and then comes back to her immediately afterwards.
In the distance, she hears Ogrhen shout in frustration.
"Just – bloody – die – !" the dwarf screams, slashing away with his axe.
Filauria pants in exhaustion. "There are too many of them," she says out loud.
She notices that Zevran is becoming out of breath as well. "Then what do you suppose we do?"
She fires another spell at an approaching enemy and licks her chapped lips. She looks up, and an idea forms into her mind.
"Stay close to me," she tells Zevran. The other elf nods at the order. She raises her voice for the others, "Alistair, Ogrhen! Get out of the way!"
She sees the two warrior's heads turn to her as they begin distance themselves from the enemies.
She summons a blizzard. The darkspawn freeze in their step, eyes darting to and fro frantically, unable to move, but she knows she cannot hold them for long. Not far, Alistair raises his shield, bracing himself for her spell. She sees him cast a circle around himself and Ogrhen – a protection to what he expects to follow.
She draws a deep breath as she raises both of her arms in the air. She is almost out of mana. She only has one chance to do this. She feels pulses of electricity in her fingertips.
She exhales slowly.
Some of the darkspawn have begun to move once more.
Inhale.
She feels the tips of her hair stand at the static. Just a little bit more –
Exhale.
One of the darkspawn breaks free and starts to charge towards her, but Zevran is quicker. He pulls a poisoned dagger from his belt and throws it towards the Genlock. It lands in between its eyes. A perfect hit.
Inhale.
Filauria takes one step back, poising for the tempest to follow.
And when she releases her magic, the whole cave shakes and the ceiling crumbles above them, burying all the darkspawn alive.
But it all happens to fast, and she is unable to calculate the debris falling towards her.
She gasps just as Alistair screams her name.
"Filauria!"
She feels a body collide against her, pushing her out of harm's way. When she opens her eyes, Zevran is there, panting in exhaustion.
"That was reckless, you know," the assassin says. There is a hard edge to his tone, so different from the usual teasing, laughing Zevran.
Filauria breathes a sigh of relief. "Sometimes, reckless gets the job done."
Zevran scoffs, catching his breath. They lie in the rubble in silence.
After a while, he speaks again. "It is okay to grieve, you know," he says. She knows he is referring to the death of her brothers and sisters in this cursed land. "It is okay to not appear strong all the time."
She says nothing in return. Instead, she slowly closes her eyes.
And when she opens them again it is night time and she is not in Ostagar anymore.