A/N: I don't own Dragon age.
4
Darrian's POV:
Everyone except Elissa, Daylen and my sister seemed to tense. I would have liked to say that I shared the eldest Cousland's courage but I couldn't help but feel my gut tighten nauseously with anxiety. Whoever this woman, who seemed to materialize from the Wilds, was she had to be powerful to survive out here.
"Who are you?" Elissa asked.
"She's an apostate," Alistair interjected and received a supercilious scowl from Elissa and disinterested glance from the mysterious woman for his trouble.
"I realize what she is. I am also a mage least you've forgotten. Besides that I directed the question towards the lady not you," Elissa frowned, her plump lips pulling downwards, before dismissing Alistair entirely by turning her back on him.
Alistair seemed clearly irritated but said nothing. I supposed that he didn't wish to make a scene in front of the stranger. There was this superior attitude that all the Couslands seemed to share, it tended to either impress or annoy others. I thought it was perfectly understandable though. I mean they were the children of a Teryn. I just tended to ignore it, it was their nature after all and it wasn't such a horrible thing; it didn't mean they were horrible people. But I couldn't speak for everyone else. I noticed that Kallian was intolerant of the Couslands and Alistair evidently didn't relish the way the elders of the three spoke to him.
"Finished are we?" the woman asked, casting an amused look towards the chastised Alistair.
"Yes I apologize for the Warden's behaviour," Daylen began, "I am Daylen Cousland, it is a pleasure. May I ask who you are?"
"Now that is a proper civil meeting, even here in the wilds," the woman smiled, surprised or impressed, "I am Morrigan."
"Then if it's not too much trouble Morrigan, can I ask if you've seen the Warden documents wandering about," Kallian asked in silky tones.
"You've stolen them haven't you? Your some sneaky witch thief," Alistair pouted.
"I have to agree with you there," Aedan said, "the documents are missing and then some weirdo in leather turns up; awfully suspicious."
"Weirdo in leather," Kallian mused with a dreamy look on her face. I shuddered.
"I haven't stolen your documents," Morrigan replied in a bored tone, "my mother has them."
"You have a mother?" Aedan couldn't even try to hide his shock.
"Yes, is that so difficult to believe," Morrigan replied in an irritated tone, "you have a mother do you not?"
"Yeah but..." Aedan frowned, "...you're a weirdo in leather."
"Oh Maker," Elissa sighed.
"What my little brother means by that is..." Elissa tried but was coolly interrupted by Daylen.
"He meant exactly what he said. He's a raging idiot and I'm sure everyone here has gathered that much," Daylen continued in his indifferent tone, ignoring Aedan's scowl, "Could you take us to your mother?"
"Now there is a sensible question," Morrigan made a point to direct the statement at Aedan who only sulked.
She turned to walk away but paused and cast her head over her shoulder, a pose that whether intended to be or not even I had to admit was utterly seductive. She raised one brow, waiting for us to follow.
"Should we trust her?" Daveth asked, "She is a witch after all."
"Think before you speak pick pocket," Elissa snapped.
"But she seems the type to turn us into frogs and cook us," Alistair said.
"And no one wants that," Aedan added. The two posed as a united front against the daunting force of Elissa and Daylen.
"Yeah, actually I'm not so sure about this too," I spoke, "isn't it a bit risky following someone we don't know anything about into something we don't know anything about? It might be a trap."
"We have no choice really do we? We need to get the Warden Documents" Elissa said.
I had to admit we didn't. Maybe they were right?
"Whatever she's leading us into it's got to be warmer than this forest," Ser Jory added.
"Let's go," Daylen ordered.
The witch and her mother lived in a run down shack that clung to the edge of a marshy pool. It's grizzled, old walls were warped with age and harsh weather to the extent that it almost looked like it'd grown from the marsh itself. Standing before it in its decaying glory was an old crone just as hunched as the house she lived in. She grinned.
"Ah Morrigan, what have you caught yourself in the Wilds child?"
"Tis a group of Wardens. They came to claim their documents mother."
Morrigan's mother eyed us as though it were trinkets that her daughter had discovered rather than a Warden and seven recruits.
"Hmph," she smiled.
"My name is Elissa Cousland; these are my brothers Daylen and Aedan. The two elves are Darrian and Kallian Tabris. The three gentlemen at the back are Daveth, Ser Jory and the Grey Warden Alistair," Elissa greeted the old woman with a regale politeness, "it is a pleasure to meet you."
The old woman's gaze trawled over each of us in turn like inspecting hands and had the same effect, until at last they rested on Daylen with a wry grin. There was a moment as Daylen's hard, unyielding eyes met hers, which I couldn't work out whether they looked older than she did or younger either way there was something unnatural about them. Daylen didn't glance away, not once. This seemed to please Morrigan's mother who turned back to Elissa with a satisfied grin.
"Such nice manners," she crooned, "always in the last place you look like stockings."
Elissa raised an eyebrow and Kallian gave a hearty dirty laugh.
"Who are you?" Aedan asked.
"You may call me Flemeth."
"She's the Witch of the Wilds she is," Daveth eyed Morrigan's mother suspiciously; "she'll turn us into toads."
"Quiet if she is the Witch of the Wilds do you really want to anger her," Ser Jory hissed.
"Now there's a smart boy but sadly irrelevant to the scheme of things," everyone seemed momentarily confused but was soon distracted as Morrigan's mother continued, "So that's what my daughter's been telling you. She does fancy such stories. Oh how she dances naked under the moon."
"I'm sure they don't want to hear about that mother," Morrigan was clearly irritated and everyone pretended to ignore that comment except Kallian who glanced across at Morrigan with renewed interest.
"No we were in fact informed that you were in the possession of the Grey Warden Documents. We were sent to retrieve them," Daylen interjected.
"I see," Flemeth's mood seemed to darken for a moment as she eyed the Cousland before she gave a satisfied humph. She disappeared inside the shack to find what they requested.
Aedan Cousland's POV:
"I can't believe you spoke to me like that back there?" the Warden confronted both Elissa and Daylen as we made the hard going trek through the marshy sludge to Ostagar. The latter of the pair ignored Alistair completely while Elissa readjusted her robes which were stained a deep brown at the bottom with an irritated expression.
"How did we address you Warden?" she asked full attention on her robes.
"Like I was the village idiot without the village," he scowled.
"I see," Elissa said finally turning to face him, "well I refuse to apologize for that."
Alistair's jaw jumped slightly. Maker trust Elissa to piss off our guide. I tried to interject but was rudely interrupted as Alistair placed a hand to his splint mail armour.
"You do realise 'Lady' Cousland," he said, demonstrating the apostrophe with his fingers, "that you are my charges and as a Grey Warden I should be treated with a smidge of respect, I'm not asking you to bow down to me or anything just use your Ps and Qs and..."
"Why have you done that with your hands?" Elissa snapped.
"What?"
"That, that bunny rabbit thing."
"What are you talking about?" Alistair asked, "Bunny rabbit thing?"
Elissa mimicked his earlier gesture by placing two fingers up on both hands and squatting them up and down as if they were twitching rabbit ears.
"Are you suggesting that I'm not a Lady?" she frowned, bottom lip pouting slightly.
Daylen and I glanced back. There were two ways this could go down. Alistair could die of concussion after Elissa zapped him with her staff or could take a verbal beating before going on his merry way. It all depended on his answer.
"Well," he shrugged, "you do have manly shoulders."
"Oh shit," I breathed before rushing off to join the elves and the other recruits at the front of the group.
Ser Jory was dull. Daveth seemed fine but difficult to talk to if you didn't understand common slang, the female elf threatened to do terrible things (and not the good kind) to me if I addressed her again before remarking on my height, body odour, nose, age and inexperience (in everything apparently). So I was forced to converse with her brother who only smiled gently as I approached.
"So...," I began, stretching my arms, "that was strange."
"You mean the girl and her mother," the elf said, I had to crane my neck slightly to hear him because his voice was so tiny it was almost swallowed up by the sound of armoured boots being sucked and pulled from the mud.
"Yeah, it was all abit odd really."
He smiled and nodded before retreating into himself again. I walked next to him in silence for awhile but couldn't stand it for more than ten minutes.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
"Oh?" he hesitated, "er, well I was thinking about this ritual."
"What about it?" I shrugged.
"Whatever it is, it includes Dark Spawn blood and is too daunting that even Duncan won't speak about it. It must be... terrible."
I hadn't really thought about it like that. Actually I hadn't really thought about it at all, preferring to push all Warden Related business from my mind. So thanks little elf for reminding me and scaring me shitless.
I replied with a smile and a pat to his back that almost took him clean from his feet, "don't worry about it. We'll be fine."
The elf recovered with a choke and smiled self-consciously, "yeah you're probably right."
But when was I ever right?
I mean I never got it right in the family; it was always Daylen and Elissa vying for supremacy, but me? Maker, and what about my family, well what was left of it. What if it all was as the little elf suggested? What if they didn't survive? What the flying fuck was I meant to do then? And as my head from one terrified thought to another like a child being pushed about by a group of bullies I hadn't realized that my feet had already carried me back to Ostagar.
I spent the hours in the kennels rather than preparing with the others. I managed to treat the Mabari bitch with the plant that I'd dislodged from the pocket I'd stuffed it hastily into. Then I'd just sat there with it for awhile until at last Elissa had popped her head into the kennel and summoned me to Duncan. I dragged my feet through the entire camp.
Alistair seemed happy enough to see me. He gave a friendly smile and a nod in my direction before snapping back to attention after a cautionary glance from Duncan. This was obviously serious business; I put a concentrated effort into stifling a groan.
We gathered around a single fire at the centre of a circular set of ruins, the light sending strange shadows dancing across the walls and our faces. Daylen, Elissa and Alistair were hard faced and sombre as befit the mood while Daveth and Kallian lounged with that constant air of ease, quick eyes starting from one face to another coolly with a confident smirk. It was quite terrifying on her pretty little face. It was only me, Darrian and Ser Jory who seemed to be shitting ourselves. I wiped my sweaty palms against the rough leather of my armour and prayed that my heart, that felt fit to explode as it pounded against my chest as mercilessly as a blacksmiths hammer on a blade, wouldn't be audible to the entire camp.
Dear Maker.
Oh Sweet Andraste, please don't let me die. I couldn't stop this macabre thought however that if I were to die then at least I'd be with Mother and Father and the blight would no longer be this mountainous task that I'd been forced to deal with. Let it be someone else's problem.
"In Peace, we are Vigilant."
I shook myself from dark thoughts realising that I had in fact missed the entire speech. Oh crap. Just go along with it pretend you know what the hells going on. I smiled and nodded at Alistair, who only seemed slightly confused by the action.
Elissa's POV:
It was clear that Aedan had managed to zone out because he was currently smiling like a goon at the young warden. I stopped myself from sighing in irritation but Duncan managed to gloss over the slip up entirely instead extending the silver chalice towards Darrian. Darrian peered down at the shadowy poisonous liquid as if it were to leap from the chalice and kill him where he stood. The methods I couldn't vouch for but the outcome seemed highly probable.
"Kallian Tabris, step forward," Duncan prompted.
She remained where she stood, I had to admire her defiance.
"I swear we will not attack you nor your brother while you're unconscious. You have my word," Duncan reassured her in gentle but firm tones. I hadn't thought of that, I'd thought that maybe she was just being difficult. Kallian had always struck me as the selfish and fun-loving type but seeing her mistrustful and protective of her brother inclined me to believe that there was more to the elf that I originally believed.
"Your word doesn't mean much Shem," she smirked but her eyes were deadly serious.
"What other choice do you have?" Duncan asked her.
Kallian laughed, "I recall you saying exactly that to me before."
She shrugged and took her portion of the concoction in a swift movement throwing her head back as she did so. Kallian sputtered, choking and gasping as her body sagged against Duncan's armoured chest. Duncan reached out to catch her before her head fell back and made contact with the hard, stone floor. He checked her pulse and nodded an affirmative.
"Daveth, step forward," Duncan spoke, retrieving the chalice from where he'd placed it on the floor as he raised himself from his knees.
Daveth accepted the chalice and tentatively drunk. He coughed and I waited for him to fall unconscious as the others had done. But he didn't. Daveth retched, hands crawling at his throat as he tried to rid himself of the vile poison His back arched, hunched, strained against skin that grew clammy and possessed the sheen of a diseased patient. I tried to keep the look of indifference I'd seen so many times on Daylen's face attached to my own but I couldn't. It was just too horrible. Maybe I could heal him, maybe I could do something. I couldn't watch them all die again. I moved but an arm caught me. I looked up at Daylen's profile, firelight casting stark shadows across the bold contours of his face; he didn't meet my eyes instead keeping them on Daveth as he crumpled to the ground.
"Don't," he whispered, his voice light yet still holding that iron tone, "he made his decision, there is nothing you can do for him."
Is that why he left mother and father? Because there was nothing he could do? Is that what he told himself every minute of every hour of every day?
Stop.
Just stop thinking about them. I needed to defeat the blight, fight this battle, and then there'd be time at some point. But not now. I beat back thoughts of home.
"Ser Jory, step forward," Duncan turned to the Knight.
"No...no," he stammered, reaching desperately for his sword, "you can't make us do this, I wasn't prepared, I wasn't ready, I have a wife and..."
It happened so quickly. A parry and a thrust then silence. Ser Jory's body slumped against Duncan's shoulder. Part of me had thought that maybe...no, Duncan said there was no turning back from this.
"Daylen Cousland," Duncan spoke, wiping the Redcliffe Knight's blood from his sword.
Daylen didn't even falter, large hands already reaching out to grip the chalice. He drank without a blink, without even a glance towards the dead body of the chalice's previous victim. Daylen didn't sputter or choke just sank to his knees until his bulk leaned and finally hit the floor with a dull thud. The younger Warden moved but I'd already got there, bending down in front of him to check Daylen's pulse.
"He's alive," I whispered, relief swimming through my blood stream.
"He's alive," I said with a smile, ensuring that my voice was audible to both Wardens. The Warden behind me gave a cough and promptly moved away, ears a peculiar shade of red. Well I was glad he found the whole ordeal humorous.
"Darrian Tabris step forward," Duncan said.
Darrian took the chalice before lifting with it with long, feminine fingers towards his trembling lips. Delicately Darrian allowed a mouthful of its contents to slither down his throat. He coughed, a breathy catch, as his fingers brushed his throat and the elf's little body slipped to the floor. But he didn't stop coughing or choking or shaking. The strangled cries were atrocious to hear like a baby was being throttled. It was so quick, not the drawn and lasting agony of Daveth.
"Aedan Cousland, step forward," Duncan moved on.
Aedan was pale, sickly pale, he nervously moved to shake sweat from his forehead with a hand that trembled violently. I hadn't realised he was so scared. I should have. I was his big sister, I should have known. He coughed nervously before looking across at me for some sign of reassurance. I smiled softly back at him. He'd been fine. Of course he would, Daylen was sleeping soundly at my feet and Baby Aedan had always had the best luck. Aedan smiled in return, gulping down nervous fear as he took the chalice from Duncan. He lifted it to his lips and drank.
One cough, two, three after four I lost count as Aedan doubled over, face contorted with surprise and pain.
Oh, Maker no.
"Aedan!"
I moved to him but was beat back by flailing limbs as Aedan crumpled to the ground, crawling forward on his belly like a wounded animal. Please, please, please, please. Panic erupted into a nasty scribbling ball deep in my gut as I tried repeatedly to move to him. But I couldn't. Then he stopped, body finally collapsing under the immense weight of that much pain.
"Aedan, please, please, Andraste do something," I pleaded, hot tears stinging my cheeks. Hands covered in dirt, legs feeling weak under me but still this panic just lingering at the edges, biting at the fringes.
The younger blonde Warden was kneeling on the other side of him within seconds, fingers pulling the leather away to feel his pulse. Please, please, please Maker. I couldn't lose a brother like Kallian had, oblivious to it now in her tainted sleep; I couldn't lose anymore of my family.
"He's alive," Alistair smiled in relief.
I looked up through a watery film.
"Honestly?" I almost whispered.
He nodded.
I thanked the Maker briefly in prayer, relief blooming in every corner of my body.
I pulled myself up, wiping at my eyes.
"Elissa Cousland, step forward," Duncan looked at me with some pity. I met his eyes, trying to swallow the lump in my throat that almost suffocated me. Duncan offered me the chalice, the fire catching the silver and winking menacingly back at me; I took it, feeling the cold metal rest against my lips then thick iron layered my throat and I dreamt of a demon.
A/N:
I seriously doubted that all of Duncan's recruits bar Daveth and Ser Jory would survive. So I decided to kill someone off, sorry if you liked Darrian but it had to be done.