Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 45

Little Girl Lost

Dragon 44, Spring 1, 15th day

North of Denerim, en route to Amaranthine

"Cailin! Slow down!"

The boy, no, he wasn't that anymore, but he wasn't a man yet either, reined in his mount with a frustrated sigh. Elinora watched the teenage impatience play out across his face, but he schooled his features before she got too close. "Fine, Mother. We'll creep our way back to Warden's Keep and get there just in time for you to head for your Calling in the Deep Roads."

Elinora's sorrel mare, an easy thing named Genny, trotted to meet up with his sleek blood bay, a young Antivan race horse that Cailin had dubbed Kell. Rabio had sent it as gift for Cailin's thirteenth birthday, much to her displeasure. Elinora found the beast to be as much an impatient teenager as her son. "Aren't you sweet?" she drawled with a raised eyebrow. "And wherever did you get such a smart mouth?"

Cailin grinned, his blue eyes glinting, reminding her, as he often did, of his father. That grin was pure Cailan Theirin, charming and brash. His hair had darkened from the honey blonde of his childhood to a robust fawn and his features were no longer those of a boy. He was taller than Elinora already, and lean with broad shoulders that hinted to future brawniness. "I learned from the best," he retorted. "Sorry, I just really want to get back and get training again."

"So eager to grow-up." A sad smile drifted across Elinora's face as she urged Genny to keep a pace with Kell, a slightly faster canter than she would have liked, but manageable. "And so vanishes the little boy who asked to call me 'mother'. How time does fly."

Cailin rolled his eyes, but kept smiling as they continued through a patch of forest. They were making good time from Denerim, and should reach the Nest before sundown. The day was fortunately clear, though still fairly chilly this early in spring. Slowly melting snow drifts made the road muddy, but not enough to hamper them.

They had spent a lovely First Day in Denerim, the entire royal family, including Fergus and his brood. Presents and feasting and lots and lots of public appearances had made the week fly. Now, it was back to business and, for First Warden Elinora, Amaranthine. Alistair and the children remained in Denerim under the strict tutelage of several scholars and etiquette masters, much to Duncen and Maricen's displeasure. Cailin took full advantage of not being heir to the Theirin throne and continued training with the Wardens.

Alistair was still trying to settle the question of succession in his own mind, though the official line put the crown on Maricen's head. The truth of his paternity was mostly buried, until one noticed that he didn't look at all like Alistair. The Theirin bloodline may not continue to rule after Alistair, not that many would know that it had vanished. Still, succession was an issue that Elinora tried to keep out of. The Grey Wardens had their fill of meddling in Ferelden politics long before she was born.

The canopy overhead became thicker, almost blotting out the midday sun. They turned a sharp bend in the road, only to haul back on their reins. A cloaked and hooded figure with a staff in hand stood in the middle of the road, mere feet from being run down. Elinora's horse bucked.

The figure struck the staff to the ground. A great wave shook the earth, causing Genny to panic wildly.

Elinora tried and failed to keep her seat. She flew, hitting the muddy road hard, her shoulders taking most of the impact. Mud might have the only thing that prevented her neck from snapping.

Pain darkened her vision, but her limbs still worked, poorly. As she tried to push herself up, she heard a male voice yell, "Run boy!"

"Cailin…" Elinora croaked, still trying to extricate herself from the ground. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out two figures, one the cloaked mage and the other in heavy armor.

The mage turned to her, amber eyes flashing above high cheekbones. "Not now," said a deep, female voice with a wave of her staff.

Elinora was dragged down into unconsciousness.

"…could have killed her," grumbled a man.

"And I could have brought her back if it had," the female voice replied tartly. They were familiar. Elinora's mental fog went cold with dread. She managed to wrench her eyes open and tried to sit up, only to find that her hands were bound in front of her, as were her ankles. She groaned as her shoulders protested any sort of movement.

Her captors turned, their faces immediately known. "Maker's blood…." Elinora croaked. "Morrigan… Rainer…"

Witch and Warden stared down at her. The years had not been kind to either of them, a certain weathering starting to show the passage of time and strain of years. Grey streaked Morrigan's dark hair at the temples and Rainer's was not as shiny as it used to be. He'd grown a beard, which was currently in need of some attending to. Crow's feet crinkled around their shadowed eyes.

Morrigan frowned, stiffening as she said, "Tis nice to see you too, Elinora. Or should I say First Warden."

Rainer knelt beside Elinora with a cup in hand. "Stole my job, did you?" With a wry smile, he helped her sit up and placed the cup to her lips, cutting off any answer she would have had. "Drink. Its just water."

Elinora's parched tongue beat out her paranoid mind and she drank. It was the best stale, leather-tainted water she had ever had. And it gave her time to clear her mind and assess the situation. Crumbling statues told her this was an Avvar shrine, lit with a few mage lights and a small fire. She was on a cloak-draped boulder, her wrist bindings attached to a statue just behind her. It seemed a little simple; she could count four ways to get out this, even with a fuzzy head.

Which meant something was going on. Something big.

Once the cup was pulled away, she found a sardonic grin and hard glare for her abductors. "Kidnapping? Again? You two need a new routine."

Morrigan returned her grin. "Well, we could hardly come trotting into the palace for tea, now could we?"

"I'm hurt. I've been trying to get an invitation to you and your daughter for years!" Elinora looked over at Rainer. "He could come too. Alistair loves a good pissing match and it's highly entertaining."

Morrigan flinched, an inner pain surfacing to her face as Rainer took a comforting step closer to her.

Suspicion crept in as Elinora took another look around, stretching her Warden senses as she did. "Where is the little godling anyway?"

Morrigan's mouth thinned to a tight line. "Ashling has disappeared." Her voice broke on the last word, a crack showing in the icy calm.

A cold boulder dropped to the pit of Elinora's stomach. Her mouth worked before she managed to say, "Oh."

Eyes narrowed, Morrigan pinned Elinora with a glare that could have killed.

Rainer picked up the tale. "We rose one morning, about a month ago, and she was simply gone. Her bed was made and everything was in place, but no Ashling."

"She did not even take her coat or mittens or…" Morrigan turned away, her sentence strangled by emotion.

Rainer took the witch in his arms as she tried and failed to hold back tears. Elinora gaped; before her stood two parents, out of their minds with terror and grief for the disappearance of their child. Fear was something she never associated with Morrigan, and tears were almost incomprehensible. And yet, here she was, shaking, facing away from Elinora, trying to hide the emotions that consumed her.

All wit dried up as Elinora focused on the facts. "Where?"

Rainer did not let go of Morrigan as he looked to Elinora. "The Korcari Wilds."

"I had a feeling that's where you'd run to."

Rainer shook his head. "We did, eight years ago, but left not long afterwards. We'd only been there for three days when Ashling..."

Morrigan took a deep, steadying breath. Her composure regained, she turned, and bore down on Elinora, staff gripped in one white-knuckled hand as the other balled into a fist. "Tell me something, truly. Did you kill Flemeth?"

The topic shift was confusing, but Morrigan demanded an answer. Blood rushed to Elinora's face as an old choice came roaring back to bite her. "Ah. No."

Morrigan's empty hand lashed out, striking Elinora's cheek. Nails scored the delicate flesh as the witch screamed her rage. Rainer caught her hand before she could land another blow, but he wasn't able to completely hold her back. Morrigan raised her staff and shrieked words that Elinora had only heard a few times.

And then she felt like she was being slowly crushed by very air around her.

"How dare you lie to me, you stupid cow!" Morrigan was railing, completely lost to her fury. "This is all your fault! If you had simply done as I asked, Ashling would still be safe with me!"

Elinora swayed as spots started to dance in her vision, air completely cut off. Every bone her body had to be seconds away from snapping.

Rainer bear hugged Morrigan from behind. "Let her go! We need her!" He shook the witch, which pulled her out of her rage just enough. She wrenched herself from his grapple with a grunt. What a dark glower for both of them, she waved her staff in Elinora's direction.

The pressure vanished. Elinora gasped for air, blinking her eyes to get the spots out of them.

Morrigan's body was rigid. "Why?"

Elinora filled and emptied her lungs a time or two before answering. "The grimore was the priority. Flemeth handed it over in exchange for letting her go. I owed her for saving my life and figured she could be a useful ally." The consequences pulled her eyes to the ground. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Morrigan squeezed her eyes shut as she turned and paced away.

Rainer stayed where he was, but his worried gaze followed her.

Elinora was not so patient. "You said you need me. What for?"

He turned back to her, his expression sad and worn. "We suspect Ashling might come looking for you or your Warden-child, again."

Morrigan paced back, her amber glare falling coldly on Elinora, all of her burning rage spent. "Ashling has something of an obsession with you." Her eyes shifted to Rainer. "Tis a common ailment."

Elinora raised an eyebrow at Rainer, who looked away, busying himself with a water skin and a handkerchief. "So I'm bait," Elinora muttered dryly.

With a haughty lift of her chin, Morrigan almost smiled. "Just so. But if Flemeth has found her, Ashling is going to be far more dangerous than the little girl who came to fetch her brother."

"She was a little premature for that."

"No, I do not think so," Morrigan said slowly. "In fact, I believe she was late. If she truly wanted to put the soul of Razikale or Lusacan into your son, she should have done it much closer to conception. Less conflict with the original."

Elinora blinked at the implications.

Morrigan ignored her and continued. "Flemeth has some experience with the transfer of the soul to another, matured body. I fear my mother is going to teach Ashling some new tricks."

Elinora couldn't make one piece quite fit into this puzzle. "How is Flemeth involved?"

Again, Morrigan's fear strangled off the answer. Rainer approached Elinora with a wet handkerchief and daubed her cheek where it had been clawed. "Ashling was asking about her grandmother the night before she vanished. As we were staying in Flemeth's old hut, we took it for natural curiosity."

"Ashling is no natural child."

Morrigan's arms wrapped around her body, as if she was holding herself together. "She was. Sometimes. There were many days one would not know that she was different. She even played with regular children when we passed through populated areas."

Elinora reflected on the holiday she and Alistair had just spent with Fergus's family. All five royal children and the two Cousland offspring had made it quite the grand occasion. Even so, Aurora was not one to get mussed playing games that meant running around the castle or anything she deemed too silly. Wynn often followed her sister, sometimes clearly torn between having fun and 'behaving like a proper princess', as Aurora put it. If truly conflicted, Wynn would disappear into the library with a book. Elinora couldn't help but think that Morrigan's half-Warden, part-god child was more normal than her stepdaughters.

Rainer rose and put a supportive arm around Morrigan's waist. Despite the ropes eating into her wrists, the burning scratches on her cheek and the slight ache to the back of her head, Elinora felt a great well of sympathy. She'd almost lost Duncen a year and a half ago to the fever, and Cailin had suffered a broken arm as he tried to break in that damn horse of his. Both events had frightened her on levels she didn't know existed. If one of her children were to vanish outright? They would call out the entire Ferelden army, that was certain. Morrigan and Rainer didn't have that option, nor was this a simple case of a missing child.

"So what's plan?" Elinora asked.