Okay, just throwing this out there, this chap is more kind of the dark sort. Awesome reviews so far. (*Air high fives*)

I like the cool reviews. Reviews make me smile. Except for the ones that make me frown. Cause then I'm frowning and not smiling. And I like smiling, because it makes me smile... hopefully that made sense to someone.

Happy 4th of July! Well, day after 4th of July. Love the cool lights in the sky. Plus, it's always funny when someone's yard catches on fire… Well, most of the time. Anyway, onto the story.

Chapter 7
~Pain~

Morriana

The moon shined over us, giving us some light. We decided to walk a bit into the night to get at a good distance from Lothering. Finally we picked a spot and decided to make camp. Alistair built a fire while Leliana and I rolled out our bed rolls. I set mine on the opposite side of the fire, away from everyone else. When Leliana looked at me strange I simply said it became a habit of mine to keep at a distance from other people. She did not object, nor did Alistair or Sten. Sten mostly because he did not talk. Morrigan set up her camp further away from the rest of us, and I wish I could do so to. But what reason could I have? She grew up in the wilds so she was used to not being around people and being alone most of the time. Since I was the leader, since Alistair made it obvious that he didn't want to be, I needed to stay with the camp.

An awkward silence held around us as we worked. I pulled out a map of Ferelden and studied it. I looked up at Alistair as he went through his pack, sorting out its contents.

"Alistair," I called. He looked up me and I gestured my hand for him to come to me. He walked over and sat next to me. I shifted over a bit, seeing how close he was to me and set the map down in from of us. "Any ideas?"

"Well, I would think about going to Redcliff first and, I probably should have told you this, but, the Arl is sick." I look at him, hoping he's joking. And by the look he gives me he wants to be joking.

"Well, I think that since we're going to the Circle anyway, when we go there we can ask the mages to help them, since they are supposed to help us anyway."

"Yes, I think that could work. And then we could go to Redcliff afterward to see how he is. Then we might want to go to the Bercillian forest," he pointed to a green shaded spot to the west to point it out, "to get the elves' help."

"And then Orzammar."

"Yes. But at some point we may have to go to Denerim. However, Loghain will be there, though." I hummed and stared at the map. "I just hope Eamon is alright." Eamon? He didn't call him Arl Eamon. Perhaps…

"So, how do you know Arl Eamon?" I asked, not looking at him. He didn't reply right away, as if he were planning what to say.

"Well, my mother was a servant girl in Redcliff castle. She… died giving birth to me and Arl Eamon took me in. He was good to me. And he didn't have to be." I looked at him to see his eyes cast down to the dirt.

"What about your father." This time it was obvious he hesitated.

"My father died too. Though, I never knew who he was."

"Are you sure it wasn't Arl Eamon."

"Oh, positive. But, still…" he drifted off with a shrug. "I remember I had a locket with Andraste's holy symbol on it. It was the only thing I had from her. Eventually, Eamon married a woman from Orlais. She despised me and believed the rumors that I was Eamon's bastard child. So, there I was, packed and sent off to the monastery at age ten. I felt that I was just cast off. I was so mad at Eamon I took my mother's amulet and threw it at the wall." He shook his head. "Stupid, stupid thing to do. The only thing I had of my mother and I lost it to my own stupidity." I pressed my lips together, unsure of what to say.

"Well," I started, "if none of that happened maybe you wouldn't be a Grey Warden, or have met Duncan." When Duncan's name falls past my lips Alistair's face is etched with sorrow. "I'm sorry." I say softly. He says nothing and does nothing, but stares at the fire. "Do you want to talk about it?" I let a silence hang in the air to let him decide what to say.

"I… should be handling this better." He says his eyes shin with unshed tears. "Any one of us could die in battle. I shouldn't lose it. Not with the Blight and everything else and… I'm sorry." I stare at him in shock. No human in my life—ever—apologized to me. For anything.

"There is no need to apologize, Alistair."

"I don't think he had any family to speak of."

"Well, he had you." He looks at me as I say this with an almost grateful look.

"Yes, I suppose he did. He came from Highever, or so he said. I want to have a proper funeral for him and build a memorial to him. For all of the Grey Wardens."

"I think he would like that." I catch myself from smiling. Mainly because I don't want to. I don't want to be happy anymore. I turn my head to the fire and watch the flames dance around each other and hear it crackle.

"Maybe you could come with me, when I go to Highever. I think he'd like that. So would I." I do not reply. Instead I roll up the map and put it up.

"I'll take first watch." I say and stand.

"Um, okay." He says, noticing I haven't yet said whether I would go with him or not. "Leliana is making dinner. Probably some fancy Orlesian soup or something."

"Then I will go bathe."

"I will too, but in the other lake on the other side." I nod. Taking the soap from my pack, along with a towel I walk off towards the lake I noticed a bit further off. Orrick decides to come along so I know I won't be entirely alone. I took my time bathing, mainly because I didn't want to be back with everyone else. When I finished I decided to take my dagger and, instead of cutting my leg, I made a cut on my wrist. I felt like I had the first time. Like this was my only escape. Orrick noticed my wound and tried to lick it.

"No boy," I said softly. He whined and tried again. I pushed him away, slightly, and seemed to hurt his feelings. So he simply laid down beside me. I am not mad at him. He knows I am hurt and wants to help. But this word help is something I won't have now. I don't know what can. When I put a hand on my cheek I feel that it is now wet. I take the dagger again and slit my other wrist. This physical pain collides with my emotional. But this pain is something I want to feel. I need to feel it to remember and realized what happened—what I've done.

Lunging at the first I manage to have my fist meet his face, but the other grabs my arms and I am suddenly on the floor. He says something to me, but my rushing flow of adrenalin is pulsing in me. It is only when I feel pain within me that I come crashing back. The second that had pulled me off was on top of me and. . .

Pain was simply flowing through me. I wanted to scream and plead for help. But I couldn't find my voice. Tears streak down my face and I hear the second cheering him on, and laughing. Laughing at my pain. His hands gripped my shoulder so tight I swear there were bruises there now. It felt like eternity when he finally pulls himself out from me, and this time I groan in pain. He stands and I see the sweat at his forehead that was once covered by his helm. The other claps his shoulder and moves toward me for his turn as the other pulls up his pants. By the time his buckles are in place the other is in front of me, ready for his fun and my pain to begin again when a gurgle like scream makes us all freeze. He moves away from me and both of them pull out their weapons.

Soris turns the corner into the room, looking half nervous half battle ready. A cross bow lay in one hand and a sword in the other. I grab my underwear and pull them on then pull down my dress over my legs before he has a chance to see me. I look up as one of the guards laughs.

"What's this? An elf with a stolen blade?" He is about to say something else, but stops as Soris slides the sword past him and I catch it in my waiting hand. I stand and face my captors. I swing my sword at one, slicing open his throat and then stabbing the other through the stomach. I straiten and stare at their bodies. Maker, the first time I've ever killed someone. Suddenly, the past events rush to me like I've been slapped and drop the sword, double over, and bile comes from my mouth. I cough and choke, as more tears fall. Soris pulls back the hair from my face, but I do not fear his touch. I know it like I know words.

I straiten after a few moments and I put my hand to my knees, trying to slow my fast beating heart.

"Cousin," Soris says softly. "Did. . . did they—"

"No," I immediately say. "They just roughed me up a bit, that's all." He knows this is a lie, but neither one of us wants to call it.

"Come on, we have to fine Nelaros and get to Shianni and the others." I grab his arm so tightly he winces.

"What? Nelaros is here? And where did you even get that sword?"

"After you and the others were taken we made a plan to get you all. The Gray Warden, Duncan, gave me the sword to fight my way in. And Nelaros wanted to come and help. Now come on." He grabs my arm and forces the sword into my shaking hands.

We run down the halls and I desperately try not to think of what just happened. More guards advance towards us and we run down the hall. I find strength in my new found pain and slay them before Soris can even shoot them. It is obvious to tell that he is now scared. Not just for the others, but what will become of me.

We enter the next room, leading into the direction where Shianni should be I see a guard piercing his sword through someone. As the body falls to the floor, my heart clenches. Nelaros bleeds on the floor and this fuels my anger. I lash the two who slayed him slicing open ones chest and stabbing him while Soris finally takes a shot into his chest and I push the dagger into his throat.

I fall to my knees next to Nelaros. His eyes remain open and death clouds them. I do not cry, but my heart tightens so much it hurts. I bow my head, mournfully, then see something sparkle within his closed hand. The ring lay in his palm and when I hold it to the light I realize that it was supposed to by my wedding ring. I pull off my glove and slip it on my finger. A perfect fit. I close his eyes and stand. Soris shakes his head, his eyes sparkle with tears. Well… at least I don't have to marry him. Maker, please guide him to you.

"Soris, we must go. We can't let his death slow us." He nods and holds back the tears. We continue on and finally—finally—get to the door where Shianni must be. Whipping out my dagger and sword I give the door a hard kick and my heart clenches more it is only one little slip from completely bursting. Shianni lay on the floor and the human, Vaughn, stands above her. I know from her look, since I am sure I had it too, that he has raped her. He turns to me and is about to say something, but I don't give him the time. My sword flies to his neck, severing his treacherous head. Soris shoots the other two guards before they can attack.

I fall next to Shianni and wrap my arms around her. She holds onto me tightly and sobs into my shoulder. I look up at Soris, meeting his agonizing gaze. He kneels down next to her too and tries to put a hand on her shoulder, but she flinches away and whimpers. But now I see the tears have finally fallen. If he would not cry for the deaths of the men we killed, or Nelaors's murder, he would cry for our cousin, our Shianni.

"Find the others," I tell him over Shianni's crying. He doesn't say anything. He walks off to a door, and pulls the keys off Vaughn's body to open it. Shianni moves away from me to look at me.

"They're dead now, right?" she asks. I cup her cheeks and muster up a small smile.

"Yes. The damn blighters are dead now. And you're going to go home with me and Soris and everyone else." She nods, biting her lip. I know she wants to cry more, but stops as the others come, so I help Shianni up. I see Valora about to speak, but I shake my head. It is just too soon.

"Let's get out of here," Soris says, putting a hand to my shoulder. I nod and help Shianni down the corridors with the girls behind me.

I sob harder as I remember the pain. It was all my fault. Why didn't I get there faster? Why couldn't I have saved Nelaros? Why did I let them do this to me? I cut my wrist again, and again until I stop crying, which ended in me having cuts going up my arm up the middle of my arm, but I didn't care. I stared at the cuts and thought on it. When I saw them they seemed to symbolize what I do and don't deserve. What I don't: freedom, life, care, family, friends, love and hope. What I do: pain, fear, loss, darkness, death and destruction.

I washed away the blood and rubbed my eyes with water to get rid of all signs of crying. When I looked as I did before (but without blood and gore and sweat) I stood and walked back to camp.

I might have been longer than expected because I saw Alistair and Sten asleep and Leliana sitting on her bedroll, taking up my watch. I come up and sit next to her.

"Oh," she said once she noticed me. "I see you are back."

"Sorry I took so long. I'm surprised you guys didn't come and look for me."

"Well, we thought that you needed some time. Plus, you had—Orrick was it?—with you so we didn't worry too much." I nodded and looked back at the fire. "I... I actually did look for you, though," she finally admits. "I heard you. . . crying so I left you alone."

"Oh." Damn it! Caught by the chantry sister! "Yeah, all this has been tough. I guess I just needed to let something out." I half lie. She does not recognize my lie and nods with a smile.

"Very understandable. Being one of the last Gray Wardens in Ferelden who is uniting the nation against the Blight would be pretty stressful." I nod. "Why don't you sleep?" She tries to put a hand on my shoulder and I flinch. She takes the hint I don't like being touched so she takes her hand away.

"I'm okay, Leliana. I'll take watch from here, okay?" She is hesitant at first but complies. She stands and walks to her bedroll and lies down. I take some of the stew she had made and walk to the other side of the fire to my bedroll. Orrick follows and lies at my side. I watch the fire burn amongst itself and don't even care as my eyes burn. When more light seems to pour through around me I notice the sun is now rising and I have not slept. But, right now, I don't really care.