Chapter 8: Awakening

Nelaros was faster than Alistair would have thought – the elf nimbly climbed over one of the rocks and then made his way down the slop almost soundless. The elf was only as tall as Aífe herself, but doubtlessly stronger, if his broad shoulders and muscled arms were any indication. As Alistair made his way down to join him, he studied the man, who had already pulled a rope from his pack and started to bind the wrists and legs of the guards. He worked fast and in just a few moments the work was done and together the two men carried the guards off the path, hiding them in the thicket so they could not be spotted quite as easily.

Grimm had taken position at the mouth of the cave, ears perked and without adverting his eyes for even a moment, as if he could hardly contain himself from following his mistress immediately.

"You are an archer?", Alistair asked Nelaros after a few moments and felt stupid the very next second. The man was carrying a bow. What else could he be? A dwarven berserker?

"Actually, I am a smith", the elf replied to his surprise quietly, but with a kind smile. He took the bow from his shoulders and almost tenderly tested the strength of the string. The bow was of fine craftsmanship and Alistair could feel the magic that had been woven into the wood. "I just happen to have good eyes and a strong arm and so I also function as an archer occasionally."

Alistair nodded and watched the elf, who turned to look at him with his vibrant green eyes. Nelaros was good looking – a strong chin, the chiseled lines of his face and hair the color of spring wheat. It was not easy to see him as a smith, even more so because he wore an armor made mostly of leather. Only upon closer inspection could Alistair see that silverite metal platelets had been carefully embedded into the leather and built a strong armor around chest and back.

"All this – finding those people, sending them back to Ferelden", he finally asked and Nelaros returned his gaze to look at Grimm, the smile still in place. Unlike Aífe the elf's expression was not guarded, he simply listened quietly. "Who sends you to do this? Is it the queen?"

Only at the last question Nelaros showed surprise, but quickly shook his head. "No, queen Anora has nothing to do with this. Nobody sends us", he replied.

"Nobody sends you?", Alistair kept asking. He was pretty sure there was more than enough to be done in Ferelden and that there was nobody who could afford to pay for any such adventures. Not with Denerim to be rebuilt, the south still doubtlessly plagued by the Taint and many thousand men and women slain. And what would drive an elven smith to journey to Orlais, Tevinter and the Free Marches – an elven smith and what Alistair presumed was some kind of noble woman or at perhaps a knight. Although she did not act particularly knightly. She was definitely cocky enough to be a noble, he decided.

"Nobody sends us", Nelaros confirmed patiently. "It is a very long story. When we are done and if you are interested enough, I can tell you more later. It is nothing special, though, we simply try to undo what has been done. Or at the very least, help those that still can be helped."

They both fell silent then and as time went by, Alistair began to wonder whether something had happened. Nelaros, however, seemed calm as he leaned against the stone, eyes on Grimm. The minutes went by and the warrior walked closer to the entrance. It was quiet within and after his eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, he could see that there was a narrow passage leading deeper into the earth. Then, suddenly, Grimm lurched to his feet and took off in a run. Within moments the darkness in the cave had completely swallowed him.

"Come", Nelaros said and moved past him to hasten after the dog, bow and arrow in hand. Only few torches were still lit and hanging on the wall – some had been taken down and extinguished, probably Aífe's worked. They had to move much slower than the dog to allow their eyes time to adjust to the darkness, but while they could no longer see Grimm, they could hear the dog rocketing through the narrow tunnel ahead, heedlessly rushing ahead without so much as a look over his shoulder.

"Watch out, disarmed trap", Nelaros warned him and jumped over a spring trap. There were several more of those, all harmless by now, and when the path widened, they almost stumbled over the body of a woman. There was no sign of struggle and she was still breathing. Another guard, it seemed, stripped of all weapons and disabled with whatever poison Aífe had spread on her glove and dagger. One more unconscious body they passed and then, after climbing steep stairs, they entered into the big main cavern – and almost directly into a volley of arrows.

"Watch out!", Aífe shouted and while Nelaros quickly ducked into cover behind a rock, Alistair raised his shield to block the arrows aimed at him. They thudded uselessly against the metal as he moved to take cover close to a thick column of stone, quickly looking around and taking in the details. The cages on the far side of the cave were empty. The children were gone.

Alistair could spot Aífe huddled behind a large stalagmite, trying to make herself as small as possible. There was an arrow embedded in the leather of her shoulder guard, which she had already broken off at the shaft, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. Grimm was crouching at her feet, ears flat against his skull and blood dripping from his snout – which explained the dead man not far from them with his sword still in hand and his throat ripped open.

"They were expecting us", Aífe said and pulled a larger flask from her belt. "Three archers, a mage and two swordsmen – there might be more. None of the children is here. Watch out for the mage, I think he is from Tevinter. Don't get too close to him, he is nasty." Without leaving them the time to so much as nod or smile or perhaps fully register the words, she gave Grimm a soft push towards one archers and dove out of cover, throwing the bottle in her hand.

Glass broke and suddenly it rained fire on the other side of the cave, the whole room illuminated and bright for a few moments. Nelaros leaned out of cover, an arrow already notched and when he saw an opening, he let it fly.

Shield held in front of him as cover, Alistair advanced into the room and caught a first glance of their enemies when the fire settled. Aífe had forgotten to mention that one of the swordsmen was a Kossith. A big one. That was currently singed and ever so slightly displeased. He wasn't even sure the Kossith counted as swordman, because he had no sword. Just a giant mace that he wielded with both hands. "Of course", Alistair murmured and sighed. Sometime soon he would have to explain to the woman the definition of swordsman.

He only dared to watch the others out of the corners of his eyes, but could see Aífe moving from cover to cover, careful to not expose herself to the mage or the archers too much. She threw another bottle, directly between her and the archers and a clouds of smoke immediately rose, concealing her and one of the archers. Nelaros had moved to her previous cover and took aim at one of the others archers.

"Don't stand around like fools, move!", the mage snarled, beating his hands against his robes to extinguish the last sparks of fire. "Leave one alive if you can – if not, simply kill them. We have no time for this. The one to bring me that damn woman's head will get paid extra."

The Kossith turned towards the smoke, but the other swordsman came straight at Alistair. He lifted his shield to block the first blow, diverting it to the side, before he brought down his own sword in a heavy swing. His blood was rushing and he could feel his movements become easier – he did not need to think, it was all there. Move with your enemy, circle, block, wait for the moment, stab. The man went down and Alistair looked up just in time to see that the smoke was lifting, revealing one dead archer. A second one had moved further back with one of Nelaros' arrows in his arm and dropped his bow.

Aífe saw the Kossith coming and evaded a blow from the mace by diving out of the way, simultaneously drawing a small knife from her boot. She threw it and the giant man all but swatted it away with his arm, it left no more than a small scratch on his arm. The mace came down in another blow and she moved out of the way as if she had predicted the move. She kept dancing out of harm's way, all the while drawing closer to the Kossith – and then dove in, slashing her fighting dagger across his hands. With a grunt the giant moved back, but his grip on his weapon was still firm and he swung it again, just as she ducked under it and circled him yet again, quickly pulling forth a tiny bottle that she threw at his chest, where it broke and released a cloud of white smoke.

"Katara, bas!", the Kossith growled and lifted his mace one more time, utterly unconcerned by the way she was looking for a weak point in his heavy plate armor. She quickly moved backwards and out of his reach and groaned when a magic bolt hit her in the side.

The mage who had tried to kill Nelaros until now, had apparently given up on that prey as the elf was evading each single spell by staying behind cover and only firing his arrows when he was sure to not expose himself. Aífe stumbled to the side and barely had time to dodge the next bolt, throwing herself to the ground and rolling to the side to jump back on her feet quickly – and suddenly she ceased moving altogether, frozen mid-step.

Alistair pulled his sword clear from the last archer that had the mistake to leave him out of his eyesight, while he ran from Grimm – it had been far too easy to stun the man with a blow of his shield and force him to drop his bow. The man had drawn a sword and a short dagger, but panic had made his movements frantic and before long Alistair had found an opening and dispatched of him.

He turned and spotted Aífe just as she came up again and knew what had happened before she did, her grey eyes wide in surprise as she struggled to so much as speak. The magic crackled up from the glyph, binding her like shackles, pale currents of energy ghosting over her limbs.

As the Kossith approached the woman and lifted his mace, an arrow thudded against his shielded shoulder, not even making him flinch, and he readied for the heavy blow when Grimm catapulted himself against the fighter. The Mabari latched onto the giant's arm with a blood-curling snarl and the man flinched despite the protection of chainmail. The hound pulled him down with his weight and letting go of the protected limb, he immediately dove for the neck, but the man had let go off his weapon and grabbed the dog by the neck. It was a fight of wills, the Mabari pressing forward to sink his teeth into his enemy's throat, while the Kossith kept his large hands on the hounds neck, pushing him away and half-strangling him.

The mage had wasted no time and summoned a spell, Alistair could feel him focus it and then a blast of lightning hit Aífe. Even in her paralyzed state she cried out as the sparks danced over her and she closed her eyes in pain. "How do you like that, bitch? That is true magic – not your silly little bombs!", the mage said and raised his hand to summon a fireball.

Alistair was finally close enough and took a deep breath, readying himself. He concentrated his will, could feel it deep within and as he had so many countless. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had last done it. He tried to focus on the force within him, ignoring the noise around him and the smoke from the fire that made his eyes burn. When it filled him completely, ran in his blood and thundered in his ears, he let it flow from him, let it seep into the ground and the air as he exhaled. It took him precious time, but he forced himself to maintain his concentration. The glyph and the spell the mage was casting were washed away and the very air cleansed from magic, and Aífe dropped to her knees. The mage looked surprised and almost scared, staring at his hand. Alistair felt almost scared himself. He could hear his own heartbeat and feel the familiar aura of strength pulse in him, growing stronger with each breath. He had almost forgotten how it felt.

The Kossith had succeeded in wrestling Grimm off of him and throwing him aside, but the hound was already on his feet again, barking and snarling as he lunged for the giant that was scrambling to his feet. Alistair turned to use the chance, quickly moving towards the two to help finish off the warrior as long as he was still down, albeit he was reluctant to turn his back on Aífe. She was trying to regain her footing, shaking her head and holding stubbornly onto her daggers. The Kossith was almost on his feet again, when he suddenly started to stagger, eyes unfocused, and Grimm used the chance to grip onto his arms once again and pull him down with his weight. Alistair bashed his shield against the giant's head – once, twice and a third time. How hard could a skull be?

"Parshaara!", the Kossith roared and surged to his feet once more, gripping Alistair's shield and ripping it from his hands – he had to let go if he didn't want his arm broken by sheer force. Alistair cursed himself. He should have put distance between them, should have seen it coming. Quickly he took a step back, holding his sword now with both hands – and then suddenly the Kossith toppled over as if hit by an invisible blow. Grimm dove in to bury his teeth in the now exposed neck, shaking his head violently.

"Watch out!", Nelaros shouted, but by the time Alistair turned, all he could do was watch as the mage unleashed a fireball. He brought up his left arm automatically and registered too late that he had no shield to protect himself. His armor would offer little to no protection and if the metal heated enough on his skin… Lifting his arms over his head he crouched down to offer as little of an aim as possible, hoping the mage had not had enough time to summon powerful magic.

However, there was no heat. Flames licked on his shoes and his back, but he did not feel the force of the fire or the impact of the magic. He was knocked back violently, something entirely unmagical colliding with him, and thrown to the ground. A heavy weight kept him down for several moments and when it finally lifted and he could turn around, he saw Aífe scrambling to her feet in front of him, her leathers still smoking from the fire.

She seemed a bit worse for wear – she had only one dagger in her hands now and looked pale, not to speak of the still smoldering piece of fur at her collar. Without looking at him she pulled her hunting knife from some other hidden sheath – where did she hide all of those blades?! - and threw it.

The mage conjured a magic barrier and the knife did not even reach him. "Silly little girl. I am the first apprentice of Claudius Da-", the man started to say, but was silenced when an arrow sliced through his shoulder, quickly followed by a second one that he could barely deflect. Aífe produced yet another bottle from a pocket and threw it – it exploded in a black cloud, releasing a foul stench and making the mage drop to his knees. The man was gasping for air violently, clutching his hands to his throat. Within moments she had reached him, stabbing her dagger deep into the base of his skull with some difficulty. As she let go of the mage, he fell forward and did not move anymore.

Aífe herself stumbled back a few steps until she caught hold of the bars of an empty cage. There were various throughout the cavern – all empty now. She was breathing hard and quickly looked up to make sure they were all still breathing and alive while their enemies were not.

"Well, that went well", she said very quietly and Grimm appeared at her side, whimpering as he pushed his head against her and almost made her loose her balance. She winced as she moved her arm and put her hand on his head, letting it rest there reassuringly for a moment. "Everybody alright?", she asked and pushed herself away from the cage to collect her weapons quickly. Apparently she did not plan on taking a break.

"Yes, but then I have not been hit with lightning and fire", Alistair said and watched her closely as he picked up his shield. He was not sure how bad the lightning spell had hit her. He was also not sure what exactly had made her think it was a sensible thing to put herself between him and a fireball. Perhaps her logic was damaged from the first spell. Or perhaps she had fits of craziness. What was he thinking? He already knew she had fits of craziness.

"Drakeskin leather, it is highly fire-resistant", she said as though that explained everything. Which it didn't. Something smelt burned and he was pretty sure it was her. Plus, he really, really wished she would stop to at least pour water or something over that smoldering tuft of fur on her collar.

Their eyes met and he could see that the wheels in her head were turning, her eyes skimming over his figure. Her expression was unreadable for him as she stood there and allowed herself a split moment to regard him carefully. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then snapped it shut again.

Instead, she moved to pick up all her knifes and sheathed them, except for the two long fighting daggers, to which she applied liquid from the small flask she had used earlier. Her belt was now rather empty, most flasks and little bottles gone, and she quickly moved to the pack Nelaros had brought and dropped once they reached the cavern. She grabbed some flasks from within, fastening them to her belt again, and choosing three small bottles that were filled with red liquid.

He caught the one she threw to him and uncorked it, sniffing the liquid. The smell was herbal and slightly sweet – a health poultice. She herself drank half of hers and then leaned down to let Grimm lick the rest of it. Alistair put the one she had thrown him in the small pocket on his belt, hoping it would not break in a fight. He still felt fine and while his healed shoulder felt a bit tense, he himself was fine. More than fine. He had not felt like this since… Well, since a while.

"We have to move quickly, they might have a ship ready", Aífe said and already moved towards a narrow passage that led away from the cavern. She was quick on her feet, moving ahead of them with a torch in her hand, carefully studied the ground as she hasted through the tunnel. Grimm followed just a step behind her, fur still bristled and ears perked.

"Aífe…", Nelaros called softly, running besides Alistair. She did not so much as turn around to them, but simply raised her hand as if to wave the concern in the elf's voice away.

"Keep ready, I hear the sea", she said and the passage started to lead them upwards again and indeed, soon enough there was the breaking of waves not far away. The tunnel widened and Alistair could feel water run into his chainmail boots, soaking through leather and fabric. He barely registered it.

Within moments they were out of the cave, standing at the shore. There was torchlight on the beach and voices, foreign words spoken hastily and he could hear the faint sound of crying. As he turned he could see a big ship anchored not far from them and a boat that had almost reached the ship – another boat was just taking off from the beach this moment. He could spot two adults and several smaller figures. He swallowed. The children – they were bringing them to the ship!

He spotted several silhouettes still on the beach – only a few small ones, huddled close together, all the others tall and already pulling a third boat towards the water. The men on the beach spotted them and he could see them draw their weapons, spitting out curses.

"No", he heard Aífe whisper almost inaudibly and then she took off in a run, the water splashing around her.

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Author's Comment: And another chapter! Yay! \o/ I hope my fight-description is not to boring to read, I edited it several times to try and make sure it all fits and makes sense - if it still doesn't, please let me know. :) That being said, poor Aífe... I had not really planned on throwing lightning at her - but then, it just presented itself and, well... now she's slightly worse off for wear. But no break yet!

I want to thank Emma, as always, for discussing the parts with me and helping me find as many mistakes as possible before I upload. :) If anybody is interested, there is a picture of Aífe's armor design linked in my profile. I would also like to recommend this Dragon Age tribute, a song both written and sung by the awesome Bina Bianca - check it out: www_youtube_com/watch?v=1m62F7yYX9A (substitue the _ with . and play! Sorry, I could not figure out any other way to put the link in here)
I would like to think it will fit very nicely in future chapters, so you can see it as a bit of a prediction. X'3

That being said, I hope you enjoyed reading this! Thank you so very much to everybody leaving reviews, favouring this or following this story. It makes me squee endlessly!