A/N: I don't own Dragon age.
7.
Kallian Tabris' POV:
The smoke was thick and cloying as it rose in great murky wisps into the canopy. This travelling life was not as much fun as they made out. Stretching my limbs I suppressed a yawn and stared out into the impending darkness. It crept and flitted in-between the trees, slowly making its way towards my meagre fire. I hadn't been overly bothered so far by the wildlife, the odd wolf or bear and I choked on a warm of insects at one point but besides that nothing to get worked up over. Not that I was someone who got all worked up and threw these girly paddies. There was no point in that. Just carry on with whatever you were doing when their backs were turned.
I rummaged through the pack to once again produce the instructions the old witch had gratefully bestowed over me. At first it had been the memory of her gaze that had clung to me like a wet sheet and kept my legs moving but now? Now I was clear of the hut was there any reason to follow them through? I lifted a slender hand and held them wavering over the flames and rich scent of wood burning. But something made me pause. It was difficult to describe exactly what it was just a 'wrongness' that sat uncomfortably in my gut. Chuckling to myself and shaking my head I retracted my hand. I wasn't far from the ruins now; it'd be a waste to leave.
Instead I pulled the bottled concoction free and curiously lifted it to my nose. It smelt rotten. Carefully I dipped a finger in and licked the tip. Blood, the black blood of the Darkspawn. So the old woman wished to place the curse that had been thrust on me onto someone unwitting Dalish. What could she possibly hope to gain from this? My brain began to seek and dart through possibilities but the only conclusion I could draw was that this Dalish could somehow aid her in the events of the second letter. Could I do it, however, could I condemn another member of my race to this unpleasant obligation? I remembered the faces of the young elves, angry and orphaned some barely eleven. It wasn't revisiting my family that I wished to do upon returning to Denerim. I had some unfinished business that needed attending to.
But first, I thought curling into the bedroll, I'd see about this Dalish elf.
Elissa Cousland's POV:
I awoke to what felt like a mouth full of sawdust; no, not sawdust that was just the smell of damp, rotting wood and the bog. But my mouth was dry and my brain pounded lividly against the concave of my skull. I struggled up, my limbs feeling as though they belonged to someone else.
"So you're awake."
Groggy, I licked at my lips with a dry tongue as my eyes focused on the speaker. The woman from the Wilds. Feathered and wild looking herself she turned two predatory eyes over my face with disinterest.
"Urghh," I groaned, "Where...?"
"You are in the Kocari Wilds."
"You must be incorrect, I was in the Tower of Ishal," I struggled.
"Does it look as though I'm incorrect?"
It was difficult to argue with her there, this did seem to be the inside of the shack but then what happened to the...?
My question was answered before my mouth could even begin to struggle to formulate the question.
"You were betrayed. It seems the man that was meant to answer your signal fled the field. My mother saved you when you were overpowered."
I was not fond of her use of the term 'overpowered', taken by surprise maybe but we were not 'overpowered'. In fact we had the situation under control until Daylen butt in. Where were my brothers? I scanned the room and only found Aedan slumped over my feet, snoring away and absentmindedly scratching at his bare chest. The great lump was crushing my legs but I'd loathe to wake him.
"Where are Daylen and Alistair?" I asked sharply. I hadn't intended to but I wasn't entirely settled with the idea that she and her mother had pulled us from the tower when we were vulnerable. I was thankful of course but being indebted to the pair made me feel uneasy.
"Your brother is outside with the senior Warden, the latter is not doing so well," Morrigan sounded bored with these human frivolities.
"Why?"
"He and your brothers are the last Grey Wardens left."
I noticed that she hadn't mentioned the elf woman. Did she know something I wasn't aware of? Maybe the blood haired elf was dead? I recalled that passionate and furious abandonment in her eyes when she'd left and could easily believe it to be true. Then my brain began to truly process what she'd said. We were the only remaining Wardens. That would mean that Duncan had perished. The poor soul, he had been kind in offering us this, by offering us life really as we'd surely have been hunted down if he had not, (even if Daylen believed otherwise) and in the end he had protected us all from a similar fate by sending us to light the beacon. I prayed that his soul to reach the Maker's side while Morrigan looked on with blatant disgust.
"I should go and see to them," I said rising from the bed. I stopped when I realised that I was only wearing my undergarments and with a haughty look pulled on my circle robes.
Daylen hadn't bothered with modesty. He sharpened his Long sword wearing only his tunic pants, a look of concentration and determination set in his features. I noticed Morrigan behind me lingered on the way his muscled chest moved with each stroke. I tutted and rolled my eyes. It seemed even the apostate wasn't shy about admiring my older brother's... ahem...physique.
Alistair however cut a very different figure from unperturbed Cousland in the corner. Even from here I could tell the Senior Warden was feeling sensitive, maybe from the way his large shoulders had slumped now in defeat or the way his body was pacing with unenthusiastic listlessness.
"Daylen," I said turning to my brother, here I was still out of ear shot from Alistair and close enough to the house to hear Aedan's snores, "are you well."
"Yes."
"No wounds?"
"No."
I decided that I had averted the question for a suitable amount of time.
"What ails the other Warden?"
"Duncan is dead."
"I see."
I paused, eyes glancing across at the man who had stopped pacing and was now staring out at the boggy marsh.
"Have you not tried to comfort him?" I asked.
Daylen frowned evidence that the thought was completely alien to him.
"Many men die in battle. If we were to mourn each one then we would live our lives in morning," he answered.
"But it is clear that Duncan was important to him," I pouted, eyebrows knitting together, "we have all experienced loss as his shield brother it is your duty to console him."
"What consolation could I have given? The dead are dead, me telling him otherwise won't make them walk and talk again."
I had to swallow the fury that passed like a heat across my cheeks. How could he possibly say that? I opened my mouth but I was that furious that words escaped me besides a frustrated humph.
"If you are so concerned, I shan't stop you from speaking to him. Now if you would be so kind as to leave me in peace," Daylen's face closed up again.
The wind fled my sails and my hands that had raised themselves for the oncoming argument fell to my sides limply. He had me there. Morrigan, who had been watching the entire conversation with great interest, smirked in amusement. Daylen noticed she was there and ceased sliding the stone across the blade to thank her for her aid lest he'd forgotten earlier before continuing.
I lingered near Daylen for a moment unsure how to approach the senior Warden. What would I have liked to hear when Highever fell? My father's voice, felt my mother's soft hands gently slide my hair behind my ears. But that was impossible. I'd have liked to just know that the world, my world, wasn't completely at an end. That everything wasn't hollow.
"Good day," I began, wiping lint from my robes.
Alistair startled and seemed embarrassed by his remorse, quickly hiding his face from me before he realised who it was. Wariness slid over his features.
"What is it? Need someone to beat with a stick?"
I looked at him in confusion.
"No, not at all. I was just wondering... inquiring as to whether you are feeling fine?"
Alistair paused, the look of disbelief told me that he was still having trouble believing that I meant well. I wasn't exactly a fire breathing dragon! No, me shouting at him was not what he needed right now.
"Honestly," I reassured finding the difficult conversation much easier if I didn't look at him directly, "Are you alright Grey Warden Alistair."
"I...I just can't believe it," I sensed more than saw his body sag even more, "he's dead, he's really dead. I know he wasn't my family but he felt like a father to me. He was one of the only people I know who actually believed in me, believed I could have been something."
He sighed deeply and sank, sitting on the floor. I cast an eye warily over the thin, reed like grass before seating myself next to him.
"And now he's gone," Alistair finished, "it just feels," he sighed angrily, head falling back to look at the pale expanse of sky, "it seems so..."
"Empty," I offered.
Alistair stopped and regarded me but I didn't really notice. Now I was staring out at the landscape, arms crossed over my legs and head resting on my arms, the word whispering through my head, empty.
"The absence of something," I murmured.
"Have you ever lost someone?" he asked, the question wasn't direct as Daylen would have asked. It was tentative, shyly seeking for some understanding or recognition of how he felt right now.
"Yes," I said, "my home and most of my family with it."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"No need to be," I answered, "The Maker teaches us that when we die we leave our Earthly bodies and rise to join him. That's where they are now."
Alistair settled. The unsure and nervous movements finally resting. I'd always found solace in the Chant even as a young child, the belief of something purer was a fundamental one. Without belief in something was there any point to a world like this? A world where men were slaughtered by monsters and old friends were the first to twist the blade. There had to be some good. There had to be something worth gasping for breath on a battlefield. I felt a strange satisfaction that my words had lent me peace if only that both were for the moment.
"I think I like that idea. Duncan in a place where he won't have to fight anymore. It's actually comforting."
"It is isn't it?" I smiled without voluntarily wishing to do so, "I'm unsure as to whether you are a devout follower or not, I'm not fanatical about faith. I just find some comfort in some of the passages in the Chant especially the verses about loss and love and the such. So if you ever want to join me, there's no pressure, I just meant if it helps; you are free to ask."
Alistair rose, "thank you," he said. He smiled at me, the light from the marshes bouncing of the water and catching on his face as if he himself had been caught by an unworldly warmth. Suddenly I felt very flustered and awkward.
"Well," I snapped making a point of refusing his hand, "there's no need to make a point of it. You were in need of comfort and we are both Grey Wardens."
Alistair looked thoroughly confused.
Kallian Tabris' POV:
I was careful not to come too near the Dalish camp just as the witch had instructed; instead camping near the ruins. The second day I heard footfalls, feather light in the deep green growth of the forest. Slinking back and shrouding myself among the teeth like ferns I watched as two young male elves, indisputably Dalish stepped into view. Both were fine. Obviously the best stock was hiding out in the woods. Both were light haired and blue eyed, both carrying the same thorny tattoo on their face.
"Someone's made camp here," the first said.
The other came forward to inspect it in silence.
"Do you think the Hunters left it here?" the first asked.
The second frowned, a line across his fine, strong features. He shook his head pointing towards the apple core I'd discarded near the fire. The first knelt and inspected it in the light.
"This type of apple doesn't grow around here," he said, the second only replied with his usual silence, "come on Lethallin, I'm eager to see these ruins."
Bingo. But I didn't remember the letter mentioning two. Which was Theron?
And as if to answer the first turned impatiently to his companion, "Theron come on."
The Gods, if they existed, were undoubtedly on my side today. I waited for them to be well and truly gone before creeping out and stalking after them from a safe distance.
The ruins were like a pursed mouth of the earth, overgrown with a pelt of vines and wild grasses odd clumps of ancient rubble had dislodged itself and lay abandoned at its entrance. There was a strange smell of honeysuckle and an even stranger whistling wind calling from its depths. I didn't hesitate, resting my hand on the dagger on at my side as I slid inside. I had the sensation of being trapped inside a great burrow as I made my way into the ruins.
My eyes strained against the dark. The giant spider corpses that lay smeared against the moss ridden walls were clear signs that the Dalish had probably dealt with anything that had been scurrying around in the dark. I debated taking the head of one back if only as something to give to the wild rabble of children in the Alienage. I smirked as I imagined their pop-eyed expressions as disbelief as I presented the treasure to them. I shrugged and sliced the head cleanly off the nearest one, the trouble would be worth seeing that. The spider corpses made it easier to track them. Just follow the trail of dead spiders. It had a pleasant ring to it I had to admit. The trail which now also included skeletons that had been pin cushioned full of arrows ended at a mysterious door. How very ominous. I slipped inside.
The Dalish hunters were struggling. The first reaching towards the mirror with a dreamy expression as the other tugged fruitlessly at his muscled arm, mouthing silent protests. His eyes meet mine, they were blue I noticed, with desperation. Then there was a light; a light that enclosed and enfolded my body, burning through and passing out in a smoky wisp. A scream reached my ears from so far away that the distance seemed impossible. I wavered for a moment, only a single moment, before running to catch the second Dalish and caught him by the waist. I snagged him from the air and curled pulling him with me to the dusty floor. His head hit the floor with a dull thud but he was conscious. I think I'd plucked him free from the worst of it. His head lolled and he looked at me drowsily.
"Stay awake," I soothed, rolling him away from the mirror just as it burst in a shower of reflective flakes.
He only stared at me wide eyed. He struggled underneath me as I pinned him.
"Stop writhing before you get me too excited," I purred.
A blush stained his cheeks as he mouthed something furiously.
"I can't hear you speak up," I sighed.
He only continued to flounder, lips stained pink opening and closing as they spilled silence. My brow furrowed in confusion.
"I can't hear you speak up," I said.
Still he remained silent. Unless...
"Are you mute?" I asked.
He never answered me but I didn't need him to confirm it with more silence. His head stopped rolling on his shoulders and finally slumped unconsciously to the floor.
"Bollocks," I breathed.
Well at least he was a handsome unconscious mute.
Aedan Cousland's POV:
I yawned the door opening to the sweet if somewhat decaying air that the marshes excreted. I felt oddly brilliant like I'd slept in for a couple of days.
"And stop stamping about your getting mud on the hem of my robes," Elissa's voice wafted from the edge of a murky swamp.
"Would you like me to tip toe around the death filled marsh?" Alistair replied.
"I doubt your great monster feet could manage," Elissa lifted her nose. Her tiny body was dwarfed by Alistair's tall and well built frame if anything seeing the two trudge towards him was quite comical.
"Not everyone can have your freaky little pixie feet," he threw back.
"They are not freaky!" Elissa seemed horrified, "they are dainty."
"Right. I hadn't seen a grown woman with baby's feet before now but if I had I doubt I'd be calling them dainty."
"Are they at it again?" I asked Daylen with a chuckle, "They haven't stopped barking at one another since they met."
"It seems so," Daylen answered bluntly. He rose and began to fit his armour to himself. I looked at his powerful body enviously. Damn Daylen and his perfect body and handsome face.
"We should go now."
"Leaving so soon?" Morrigan's mother appeared.
"We need to keep moving," Daylen answered.
"And do you have any idea as to where you'll be going?" she asked.
I personally had no idea. By now Alistair and Elissa had joined us and it was Elissa who answered the old woman's question.
"We still need to defeat the Blight," she said with an unwavering focus.
"How?" I asked, "How exactly are us four going to defeat a Darkspawn Horde and an Archdemon?"
"I was under the impression that you are all still Grey Wardens," Morrigan's mother added.
"We are!" Alistair protested, "But Aedan has a point, how are we going to defeat the Blight?"
"There must be allies we can call upon," Elissa mused.
"Arl Eamon. I'm sure he would help us," Alistair suggested.
There was a rustling as Daylen who had become almost invisible in the desperate ruminating now stepped forward, he handed Elissa and Alistair a roll of parchment keeping two to his chest. It seemed that Daylen had been watching the exchange patiently and calculating before contributing anything of his own.
"The Treaties," he said, "I take two and you take two."
"Of course," Alistair said, "The Grey Warden Treaties, we can call upon these allies using these...but why are you splitting them up."
"Because," Daylen said coolly as he leaned down to retrieve his pack and sling it over his shoulder, "If we are all to travel together we would achieve nothing."
"I was under the impression that if we travelled together we'd be safer," Elissa countered.
"We're all seasoned warriors; it's not that that I'm referring to. I meant it is impossible for you and I to travel together without battling over every decision," Daylen answered, "therefore it is more beneficial that we separate."
He had a valid point there. I could easily imagine Elissa and Daylen stubbornly biting over every miniscule decision stretching tasks that had meant to be take minutes to resolve into hours. And still even when a decision would have been made one, the other or both would be left bitter.
"I'm not sure about this," Alistair frowned and then he said something I hadn't expected, "are you sure you'll be alright on your own."
Daylen had been nothing but a superior arsehole to Alistair from the moment they'd met and for him to be concerned for Daylen's wellbeing was not only surprising but stupefying. Daylen didn't look at Alistair with confusion as Elissa and I did, instead he seemed oblivious or unaffected by the question.
"Of course," he said in that same apathetic and firm tone, "I have faith in my abilities."
"He won't be travelling alone as the case may be," the old woman interrupted.
Just at that moment Morrigan emerged from the doorway.
"The stew is ready Mother. Will I be serving two or are the Wardens to stay?" Morrigan asked, piercing gaze travelling over each of us in turn.
"Leave the stew Morrigan, our young Warden here is leaving and you're leaving with him," her mother answered.
"What?"
"That seems suitable," Daylen said, sizing up Morrigan with a slightly hungry look.
"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan protested.
"If you wish to stay behind," Daylen said already turning to leave, "you are welcome to."
"Go with him child, you're always complaining that I keep you here and now here's your chance to leave as you wish and you're still standing here arguing with me," Morrigan's mother waved her away after the striding Daylen.
Morrigan wavered, uncertainty creeping for the first time across her features.
"Warden!" she finally called.
Daylen paused, back still turned to her.
"You will need assistance in this task," she said.
"Are you powerful, mage?" he asked, head turning to face her.
Morrigan seemed repulsed that he'd even directed that question towards her.
"Do you want to go?"
This question stumped Morrigan for a moment before she answered in an affirmative.
"Be careful mother that the stew does not burn while I'm gone," Morrigan called mockingly back at her mother.
The old witch released a barking laugh, "it's more likely that you will find the hut burnt down by the Darkspawn with me inside it."
Morrigan's face fell.
"Goodbye mother," she said quietly before following after Daylen.
Morrigan's mother however seemed completely unaffected by the exchange.
"So," she said turning to us, "are you all staying for stew?"
"As long as it's not eye of newt and wing of bat," Alistair muttered to me.
A/N:
So there's the three groups the story will be following already drafted out. Kallian and the newly added Theron Mahariel, then there's Elissa, Aedan and Alistair and finally Morrigan and Daylen. The other companions will fall into place but I couldn't have Elissa and Daylen working together with such different stances on life, it would never work and I think it's more interesting this way. So please continue to R&R.
THANK YOU FOR READING! :D