Forged In Fire

by Lady Urquentha

Elissa Cousland teased Loghain for being ridiculously sentimental when he gave her a diamond ring engraved with the words 'You Brought Me Back to Life'. Now, four months later, he is trying to kill her and she is raising an army against him.

6. The Clamour Of The Bells

Title: Forged In Fire

Rating: M (for violence and language)

Warnings: none

Summary: Elissa Cousland teased Loghain for being ridiculously sentimental when he gave her a diamond ring engraved with the words 'You Brought Me Back to Life'. Now, four months later, he is trying to kill her and she is raising an army against him.

Disclaimer + Notes: Bioware owns everything you recognise. Everything you don't (including the poetry) is mine. Thanks ever so much to my beta-readers lilpumpkingirl and analect for their help with spelling, style, ideas and all manner of things. They have been life savers! As always, any remaining errors are mine. Thoughts, comments and opinions (negative or positive) are always welcome, and I do respond to each of them individually.

Chapter 6 – The Clamour of the Bells

One, two, the bells of battle sound

Three, four, let loose the royal hound

Five, six, we'll play the drums of war

Seven, eight, and fulfil the oaths we swore

∞ An ancient battle cry from the Exalted Age

Elissa's awareness returned to a wet tongue licking her face enthusiastically.

"Duke," she groaned. "Enough." She opened her eyes to see the tip of his tongue retracting into his jaw as the dog sat by her side, wagging his tail and panting.

Duncan was leaning over her, with Alistair hovering above. "It is finished. Welcome."

"Are you all right? I've never seen anyone take that hard a fall." The concerned expression on Alistair's face was eerily familiar, and her breath escaped her lungs in a whoosh as she realised who he reminded her of. Cailan? She almost laughed at the thought. Had she hit her head so hard that she was seeing Cailan everywhere? If he ever learned of her momentary lapse, she'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm…fine." Despite her words, a dull ache had taken up residence in her head, and only worsened as she sat up. "Was that expected?"

"It is not uncommon," Duncan reassured her. "Some people just react a little more violently than others."

"Great," she said wryly, gingerly feeling the back of her head. She couldn't feel a bump, but the skin was still smarting and she wouldn't be surprised if one developed later.

"Two more deaths. In my Joining, only one of us died, but it was…horrible." Alistair shuddered. "I'm glad at least one of you made it through, Lady Elissa."

Not exactly the most comforting to words to hear, Elissa thought as she gingerly got to her feet. Her head still ached, and her back hurt where she must have hit the stone, but otherwise she was all right. Except for a low hum in her head that wouldn't go away.

"How do you feel?" Duncan inquired.

"It's over. I'm fine." She twisted her shoulders, trying to loosen her back muscles. She was still trying to get over the fact she'd survived. "Is my head supposed to be buzzing? Did I hit the ground that hard?" It didn't feel like a concussion, but she didn't know for certain.

Duncan nodded. "Yes, that's the taint in you sensing the darkspawn. Over time, you'll learn to be able to tell where they are and how many darkspawn are around you."

"Did you have dreams, my lady? I had terrible dreams after my joining," Alistair added.

She thought of the dragon, snapping and snarling at her, its eyes clouded with madness. "Yes."

Duncan gave her a comforting smile. "Such dreams come when you start to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other things can be explained in the months to come."

"Oh great," she said dryly. "More secrets."

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh, before I forget," Alistair interrupted. "There is one last part to your Joining. We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us…of those who didn't make it this far."

Elissa accepted the necklace he held out her. Blood blacker than the darkest night sloshed in a small capped vial, on a silver necklace. It was poison. The same poison that now ran through her own veins. She shivered as the vial settled around her neck, bumping over her heart and against her mother's locket.

She looked up, her mouth open to say something, and then froze. Alistair's head was tilted down towards her, the light from the flickering torches dancing across his skin. The shape of his face was eerily similar, if a little narrower than Cailan, and the eyes… a shiver ran down her spine. In this light, and at this angle, Alistair could almost be mistaken for Cailan's brother. Amusement shot through her at the thought. She wondered if Cailan had met Alistair yet. The king would no doubt be delighted at the opportunity the resemblance provided to play some sort of prank on someone or other, probably Loghain. She stilled suddenly, recalling a conversation she'd heard years ago by listening at the keyhole to her father's office. Bryce had been speaking to Loghain about King Maric's rumoured bastard, who had been hidden away from the nobility.

Was this then, King Maric's bastard? Prince Alistair? The notion seemed ridiculous. But…she glanced back at his face, which still looked like Cailan, only younger and more serious. Of course, if he was a bastard son, he wasn't truly a prince, although more than one noble would conveniently forget that if they thought it would benefit them.

Duncan cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "If you are feeling well enough, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king."

Elissa looked at him, searching his eyes and wondering if Loghain had spilled the news about their betrothal during the fight yesterday. "What kind of meeting?"

"The king is discussing strategy for the upcoming battle. The darkspawn have massed, and the battle will likely be tonight. I'm not sure why he requested your presence." His eyes gleamed.

Elissa sighed. He thought she was the King's lover. Refraining from rolling her eyes, she nodded her acceptance. Her left cheek bore a bloody scratch from a lucky wolf that had caught her unprepared while she had been shaking out her sweaty hair from her helmet, and her armour was caked with dirt and blood. Her hands went to her hair, filthy and caked as it was despite having been protected by a helmet. She was going to attend a meeting with the King like this? What had she been thinking? What she needed was a bath. But until she had time to go and visit the Highever tents, that was unlikely to happen.

"Good, come with me." Duncan turned and began his descent down the stairs.

"Come on, boy." She tugged lightly on Duke's head, and then the two of them set off after the Warden-Commander.

In the midst of the runes, Loghain and Cailan were standing beside a long table spread with maps, talking quietly. At the sound of their boots against the stone, Cailan looked up. The initial smile he'd worn fell away. "Ellie! What happened?"

The cry caught Loghain's attention, and the Teyrn's head jerked up. He swept her with his gaze, and his scowl deepened. He shot Duncan the filthiest look she'd ever seen him wear. Despite Elissa having expected him to all but ignore her given that they were in public, Loghain moved around the end of the table towards her. He tugged the gauntlet off his right hand, and caught her chin for a close inspection of her face. She was intensely aware of Duncan's eyes on them both.

"We were in the Wilds and ran into some darkspawn," Elissa explained to both of them. She reached up to touch the hand Loghain had on her face reassuringly. "Most of it isn't mine," she promised quietly.

"You're hurt. You need to see a healer." Loghain scowled again. "I shouldn't have let you do this."

"Hush. It is my duty. And this is just a scratch. I've had far worse in training." Elissa tugged his hand down between her palms and arched an eyebrow with a teasing smile. "From you, even." His hand clenched around her fingers almost convulsively.

A clatter of armour announced the arrival of the Templars and the Reverend Mother, and Loghain let go abruptly. Straightening, he stalked back to the table, tugging his gauntlet back on. Moments later, the self-important woman strode into the Council. She caught sight of Elissa's filthy form, and visibly sniffed in disapproval. From the other side, a tall, balding mage approached them.

Elissa stepped back, only to bump into Duncan who had come up behind her. He was eyeing her, with an intrigued look on his face. Well, she thought wryly, if nothing else, that little display had disabused him of the idea she was sleeping with Cailan. Now, he'd simply think she was Loghain's mistress. "You have something to say, Duncan?"

"This merely…explains some things I wondered about," he said.

Elissa turned her head, raising an eyebrow. "The argument the Teyrn had with you yesterday?"

"I had wondered why he was so protective of Cailan's mistress." He glanced at the men by the table. "But this also explains several things both you and the King have said." He hesitated. "This is no-"

Cailan's voice rose and cut through their conversation. "Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."

"You risk too much, Cailan," Loghain argued, raising his voice to match the King's. "The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."

She spun her head to look at Cailan. He wanted to be on the front lines? The idiot!

"I am the king, and I must lead my people." Cailan shook his head obstinately. "I cannot ask my soldiers to do something that I will not."

"Soldiers can die in battle without destroying a country. If you fall in battle without an heir, there will be civil war!"

"Then I will simply not die." Cailan turned away dismissively.

"It does not work like that," Loghain spat. "War is dangerous, and the front lines will be the hardest hit."

"If that's the case, maybe we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all," Cailan retorted. Elissa winced. That wasn't going to make Loghain any more willing to accept Cailan's decision.

The ever-present scowl deepened. "I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves." Loghain was quite clearly holding onto his self-control by a thread. She didn't remember them ever arguing like this before, and while Loghain had no compunctions about shouting at Cailan in private, he'd never challenged him in public like this. In front of the Chantry and the mages, as well as anyone who cared to listen!

"It is not a 'fool notion'," Cailan said sharply. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past…and you will remember who is king."

Elissa's breath caught in her throat at the veiled threat.

Loghain's blue eyes glittered, and he turned away with fists clenched. "How fortunate," he said through gritted teeth, "that Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden to those who enslaved us for a century."

Cailan drew himself up. "Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they? Duncan, are your men ready for battle?"

"They are, your Majesty."

"It will be a battle for the legends," Cailan said with all the giddiness of a child, an abrupt change from the harsh king who'd just slapped down his most trusted general.

Loghain turned back towards them, his anger still evident. "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality."

Cailan sighed. "Fine, speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines, and then…?"

The general bent over the map. "You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signalling my men to charge from cover."

"To flank the darkspawn, I remember." Cailan smiled gleefully. "This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital," Loghain said firmly.

"Then we should send our best." Cailan looked in Elissa's direction, and the rest of the group followed. "Send Alistair and the Lady Cousland to make sure it's done."

So, he did know of his half-brother, if the look in his eyes was any sign. Elissa didn't miss the start of surprise from the Reverend Mother at the mention of her name. She bowed formally, hiding her relief. She really did not want to fight in the main battle, where Duncan's 'training' had shown her she would almost certainly be killed. "Your Majesty's will."

Amusement flashed in Cailan's eyes.

"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much, Cailan," Loghain objected. "Is that truly wise?"

Elissa shot him a surprised look. She would have thought he would be eager for her to avoid the main battle.

"And why should I not? They have fought the Blight for thousands of years. Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain. Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter where they are from."

Duncan cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, you should consider the possibility of the Archdemon appearing."

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds." Loghain fixed him with a glare.

Cailan grinned. "Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?"

"I…Yes, your Majesty." Duncan bowed his head, but not quickly enough to hide the consternation on his face.

The mage stepped forward. "Your Majesty, the tower and beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi-"

He was cut off by the sneering priestess. "We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage. Save them for the darkspawn."

Elissa shook her head inwardly. The Reverend Mother was being stupid. In battle, every resource had to be used to its best ability. If the mages thought they could create a signal, it would save both people and time.

Loghain raised a hand. "Enough! This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens shall light the beacon."

Cailan's face lit up. "Thank you Loghain. I cannot wait for that glorious moment. The Grey Wardens battle beside the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil."

Loghain's face was like stone. "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all."

As she turned to follow the rest of the council out, Elissa hesitated. Loghain was staring down at the map on the table, his fists clenched. A quick glance around indicated they were alone, and she approached him cautiously.

"Your Grace?" she asked tentatively, unsure whether he would talk to her as his lover or as a noblewoman.

He looked up at her wearily. His eyes were troubled and her heart wrenched. "Elissa."

Lover it was, then. She reached for his hands. "I'm sorry he won't listen to you."

"So am I," he whispered, shaking his head.

She drew him into a shadowed corner of the ruin, out of sight of prying eyes. He cast one single glance back at the map, and then came willingly. She cupped his face in her hands, and then stood on tiptoe to kiss him softly. He was still for a moment, and then her back crashed against the wall as he pinned her to it. His hot tongue darted out to fill her mouth, probing and searching out every crevice. Her blood heated, thrumming in her veins as he swallowed her gasp. She twined her own tongue around his and angled her head for better access.

He pulled back, his strong hands braced on either side of her head and a distant look in his eyes. "I hate this."

"I know." She offered him a small smile. "Cailan is a strong fighter. He will get through this, even if he insists on fighting on the front lines."

His lips thinned. "Even a strong fighter can be killed."

"He will be fine," she repeated. She paused. "Loghain, is there a reason you wanted me on the frontlines instead of at the Tower?"

He gave her a startled look. "It was not you I objected to. It's that Grey Warden."

"Alistair?" She knew her surprise showed in her voice. "Why?"

"I don't trust the Grey Wardens."

"Yes, but that is because many of them are Orlesian. Alistair is Fereldan." Her eyes narrowed. "He is who I think he is, isn't he?"

His tensed, his breath was warm against her neck. "Yes. He is."

"Ah." She knew when to leave the topic alone.

"What's done is done." Loghain pulled away from her, the familiar cold mask appearing once again. "I must leave, I have things to do." He hesitated. "Will you…come to me tonight? If the battle does not begin?"

"You know I will." She leaned up and kissed him one last time. He tasted of warm beef stew and fresh bread, overlaying the unique taste of Loghain she could very easily become accustomed to. "I love you." Then she ducked under his arm, and headed back out in the camp, neither expecting nor receiving any response.

She spied Duncan and Alistair by the campfire, and made her way towards them.

"…to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit." Duncan glanced up at her approach, nodding to her.

"What? I won't be in the battle?"

"This is by the king's personal request, Alistair," Duncan said sternly. "If the beacon isn't lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge."

The other warden…prince…no, warden frowned. "So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there, holding the torch. Just in case, right?"

"Stop whining," she said with exasperation. Just like his half-brother, Elissa mused. Eager for glory.

Duncan shook his head. "That is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there. We must do whatever it takes to destroy the dark spawn – exciting or no."

"I get it. I get it." Alistair scowled. "Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the remigold, I'm drawing a line. Darkspawn or no."

Elissa smothered a laugh. She'd seen Cailan in a dress once, when he'd lost a bet with Fergus. Maric had found it funny, but Bryce Cousland had not. Her laugh died away. She cleared her throat. "I'd like to see that."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "For you, maybe, my lady. But it'd have to be a pretty dress."

Elissa shifted uncomfortably, and looked away. Was he flirting with her? She hoped not.

Duncan sighed, and shook his head. "Now, you should all get some sleep. If the battle comes tonight, make your way straight to the Tower."

"Do you think it will be tonight?" she asked.

"The darkspawn presence is very strong," Duncan allowed. "It may be tonight. Or it may be tomorrow."

Elissa sighed.

"When the battle starts, you'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley."

"When do we light the beacon?" Alistair asked.

"We will signal you when the time is right," Duncan explained. "You remember the signals?"

Alistair looked confused for a moment and then nodded. "The ones Brosren taught me? Yes."

Elissa pursed her lips. "What happens if the Archdemon appears?"

"We soil our drawers, that's what." Alistair grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes. "And trust the stink will kill him?"

Duncan gave them both a stern look. "If it does, leave it to us. I want no heroics from either of you."

No, no heroics, she agreed grimly. She couldn't afford heroics, not with Fergus being the only heir to Highever left.

"Now, off with you, Alistair." Duncan waved them away. "Elissa, a word?"

She ignored Alistair's confused look, and waited silently. She could guess what this was about.

When Alistair was out of earshot, Duncan sighed. "About this…relationship you have with the Teyrn."

The muscles in her back tensed. "What about it?"

"I recommend you reconsider your relationship. It does not look good for a Grey Warden to be having an affair with the king's closest advisor," he said bluntly.

That…had not been what she expected to hear. Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and fury rippled down her spine. "I am not having an affair with him," she said sharply. "He is my betrothed."

Surprise showed on Duncan's face before it was wiped away. "Nevertheless, as a Warden-"

"As a Cousland," she cut him off, "he is the only noble of equal rank. And he is marrying the Cousland, not the Warden." At least, politically anyway.

"Retaining the title is only a courtesy."

"If Loghain doesn't object, I don't see why you would," she snapped. "I'd have thought you'd want the connection with the King this would bring the Wardens."

"We have only recently been allowed back into Ferelden." Duncan shook his head. "We cannot risk being seen as becoming politically entangled."

"Then you should have thought of that before conscripting me." She eyed him icily. "Howe took everything from me two weeks ago, and you took what little remained. This, I refuse to let you take." Turning, she walked off with her head high.

Under the cover of darkness, Elissa followed Duncan and Alistair back out into the Wilds. If the forest had been unsettling during the day, at night it was frighteningly quiet. The crunch of leaves and branches underfoot was the only sound to break the eerie silence. She would almost have been relieved to hear the snarl of a wolf.

Just out of sight of the sentries guarding the entrances to Ostagar, two Wardens in leather armour were heaving a pair of limp bodies onto a wooden pyre in the middle of a clearing. Elissa swallowed, staring at Daveth's face, frozen as it was in a grimace of pain. Beside him, Jory's shirt was stained brown with dried blood from the stab wounds in his stomach.

"Wait here." Duncan strode forward towards another Warden, who carried a long wooden pole capped with a bundle of merrily burning rags. A Warden stepped up to the pyre, and emptied the contents of a large brown jug onto the wood and bodies. The pungent smell of oil with a hint of something else filled the air.

At some unseen signal, the gathered Wardens lined up in rows facing the pyres. Belatedly, Elissa stepped into an empty space in the last row.

"You who gave your lives today, we thank you for your sacrifice. Go in peace." Duncan's face was half-hidden by dancing shadows, the right side of his face almost disappearing into the black of the forest. He raised the torch, and in one swift movement, plunged it into the pyre. The heat blasted against her face as the pyre flamed, and she barely kept from stepping back. Now she recognised that underlying smell in the oil. Magic had been mixed in, and now the flames burnt far hotter than they should have. "And know that someday, we too will join you."

Silence reigned in the clearing, the Grey Wardens motionless statues and only the crackling of the flames disturbing the peace. Elissa swallowed as the stench of burning human flesh followed the billowing smoke. Her aching leg muscles made themselves known, protesting the stillness.

At last, Duncan moved, breaking the spell. A soft murmur rose as the Wardens began to talk amongst themselves. Duncan stepped down to her side, and stood beside her, watching the pyre. Smoke clung to him, tracing his outline in dark mist and irritating her nose.

She glanced at him. "What happens now?"

"We wait for the pyre to burn out."

She looked back at the fire, at the dancing red and yellow flames slowly devouring flesh and blood. "What happens to the ashes?"

"We throw them to the winds."

Not any different from any other funeral, then. Only…

"What about their families? Shouldn't their ashes go to their families first?"

Duncan shook his head. "We don't tell the families."

Elissa stared at him. "What? Why not?"

"Our secrets cannot be given to outsiders," Duncan said.

Her jaw dropped. He would deny people the right to mourn their dead relatives, to keep secrets?

He must have seen her expression because he pressed his lips together. "Is it not better that they think their family members are living and happy in the Order, than that they are dead?"

"Jory has a wife, and a child. Who won't even know that he is dead!" Elissa objected.

"When he joined the Wardens, he knew that there was a risk he would die fighting the darkspawn. He was told to settle all his affairs."

Elissa pressed her lips together. "Yes, but they'll spend the rest of their lives waiting for him. Not knowing if he lives or dies!" The fire crackled sharply, punctuating her words.

"This is the way we do it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me, Duncan. If I had died tonight, what would you have told Fergus? Or Cailan? Or Loghain?" She kept her voice soft enough that none of the other Wardens could hear her.

Duncan's lips thinned. "I cannot hide your death from them, but protecting our secrets is paramount. They would have been told you died in the Wilds."

"And you think Loghain would have accepted that? And Cailan?"

"They would have had no choice," Duncan said sharply. "And now do you see why it is a bad idea for you to be involved with the Teyrn? It is better that we Wardens are invisible, that no-one will notice if we…disappear."

"If you think no-one will notice because Jory and Daveth disappeared…" she began heatedly.

"I am sure he will be missed and I wish it could be otherwise. But he will not be missed by anyone of consequence."

Her eyes widened. "What? How dare you!"

"It sounds cruel, I know. But I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens. I must consider the good of the Order, and no-one who misses Jory or Daveth will be in a position to cause trouble for us. But the Teyrn, and the King, very well could."

Elissa shook her head once. "Now you want me to give up my childhood friend as well? No." Her tone brooked no opposition.

"I really must insis—"

She glared. "My duty is to the Wardens now, but you don't have the only claim on me, Duncan. And both Loghain and Cailan have lived through war, they know the risk a fighter takes. If I die in battle, they will not blame the Order. "

A quick glance at the pyre revealed the bodies almost completely gone. The magic-infused flames had made quick work of flesh and cloth alike. She watched grimly as the last shred of dark green material vanished, and then turned on her heel and stalked back into the trees. Her attempt at a dramatic exit was somewhat foiled as the rest of the Wardens chose that moment to head back as well, and she was quickly lost in the crowd.

As the rest of them headed for their camp, she ducked into the shadows, still shaking with anger. Her armour clanked, rendering stealth impossible, but she hoped the soldiers she passed were too drunk or preoccupied to remember her. She made her way towards Loghain's tent, only to freeze out of sight when she spotted him.

He was still in his heavy armour, standing in front of his tent doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. The tall, balding mage from the war council was in front of him, gesturing wildly and talking at a very fast rate. She wasn't close enough to hear what he was saying, not if she wanted to stay in the shadows and out of sight, but whatever it was, Loghain did not look impressed.

He said something shortly, and his hand made a sharp motion. He turned on his heel and disappeared into his tent. The mage gaped after him for a long moment. Then he too turned and stalked away, his face set in angry lines. He brushed past the guard and nearly tripped over Elissa where she stood just outside the radius of light. He barely glanced at her. "Out of my way, girl."

Elissa stared after him in surprise. Shaking her head, she moved towards the tent. The guard standing outside was the same one who had been on duty the night before. He took a look at her face, and then stepped aside at her approach, his own expression impassive. She felt her cheeks burn and looked away. He knew what she was here for. Then she squared her shoulders, and met his gaze. Loghain was her betrothed. She had every right to meet with him in private, and it wasn't for his guards to judge her. She met his gaze, and he smiled faintly at her.

Brushing aside the tent flap, she ducked inside.

She was woken by the blaring sound of the alarm horns. Duke was already awake, and growling. She rolled out of bed, scrambling for the pieces of her armour. The arming doublet, trousers and mail shirt went on easily, but as she reached for the arm-harness, her fingers fumbled, shaking slightly. Then Loghain was behind her, fastening the buckles with practiced fingers. Without a word he helped her into the rest of her armour. As she settled her gloves, he rose and stepped back.

"Good luck," she whispered hoarsely. His dark eyes stared down at her for a long moment, and then his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His hot lips descended on hers, moving desperately against hers as though it was the last time he'd ever kiss her. She threw her arms around his neck and held on, opening her mouth beneath his as he attempted to suck the air out of her lungs.

When they separated at last, his hand was gentle against her cheek. "Don't you dare get yourself killed."

There was a look in his eyes, some cross between desperation, fear, resignation and something else she couldn't name.

"Nor you, my lord." She squeezed him tighter and then stepped back. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she drank in his face. The horn blew again. "Loghain, I love you."

His eyes darkened. "Go."

She turned and hurried from the tent with Duke, nearly crashing into the woman standing outside.

Elissa straightened. "Ser Cauthrien."

"Lady Elissa." The knight bowed, her eyes indecipherable as they moved past her to the tent she'd just emerged from.

Elissa hesitated. The knight was Loghain's most loyal lieutenant, but she liked to think they were friends, of a sort. "Don't get yourself killed. And keep him safe."

Cauthrien cracked a slight smile. "I will, my lady. And don't you get killed either. He'll be impossible to live with if you do."

"I'll try not to." Elissa knew her eyes were amused.

"Excuse me, my lady." The knight glanced at the tent again.

"Of course." Elissa headed towards the campfire where she was to meet Alistair before they headed for the Tower of Ishal together. Around her there was a stampede of movement as the army gathered itself. As she walked, she slowly became aware of an increased hum in the back of her head, like an ever-present itch that couldn't be scratched.

A straggling group of Highever soldiers passed her. One of them called out from behind his helmet, "Maker watch over you, my lady."

She smiled at them. "Maker protect you too, sers."

"Lady Elissa," a male voice called.

She turned to see Alistair jogging towards her.

"Are you ready?"

"Is anyone ever really ready for battle?" she asked dryly, curling her hand in Duke's fur.

"It's not like we're actually going to see any battle." Alistair scowled. "We're just babysitting the fire."

She sighed in exasperation. "It's our duty, Alistair."

"I know," he grumbled. "But I joined the Wardens to do something. Not to be given the baby jobs."

She stared at him. "The baby jobs?"

"They're trying to protect us." He waved his hand. "You're being sent on this because you're Lady Cousland, and I'm—" he stopped abruptly. "I'm the next newest Grey Warden."

That clearly wasn't what he'd been about to say, but she let it go. He'd been sent with her not because he was a new Grey Warden, but because he was the King's half-brother. The look in Cailan's eye at the time had indicated that, even though she'd not known that Cailan knew about his half-brother. She glanced around the camp. By now everyone was gone, with everyone either down on the frontlines with Cailan or hiding with Loghain's forces. Everything was silent, with only the sound of the wind whistling through the trees and the gaps between the stone.

"We should get moving, my lady," Alistair said nervously, glancing towards the edge of the cliff where they could both see the light from flickering torches down below.

Then, there was a roar and the sounds of thundering feet. Her pulse quickened, and she could almost see the darkspawn charge in her mind's eye. There was an indistinct shout, and then the howls of the mabari were added to the growing din.

"Come on!" Elissa shouted. "Let's go."

Without waiting to see if Alistair was following, she took off for the bridge. Duke bounded along at her side, a low constant growl escaping him. Just as she reached the bridge, a huge rock crashed into the stone structure. The whole thing shivered, and several soldiers manning the giant crossbows were knocked over. She could feel the reverberations even through the solid earth where she stood. Glancing down the gorge, she saw the ugly clash of the king's army against the darkspawn. Both human and animal screams filled the air, along with the clashing of swords against blades and armour, and the occasional crashing earthquake as a rock was catapulted in one direction or another. Her heartbeat thundered, and her palms began to sweat inside her gauntlets. Practice battles, and even the battles in Castle Cousland or in the Wilds, were one thing. This full-scale war, with the screams of agony and masses of enemies, was quite another. Beside her, Alistair trembled almost indistinguishably.

Taking a deep breath, she began to run. Her booted feet slapped against the white stone, the sound almost inaudible under the chaos of battle. She dodged around the soldiers and avoided crumbling parts of the bridge. A sharp whistle was her only warning before she was tossed off her feet by the impact of another catapulted rock. Her head impacted sharply on the stone, and she saw stars. As they cleared, she scrambled back to her feet. Alistair had managed to keep his feet, barely, being some metres behind her and outside of the radius of the strike. Picking up her pace again, she sprinted for the far edge of the bridge.

"Almost there." Alistair panted as they stepped onto solid land. "Just up ahead."

A soldier nearly tumbled as he skidded down the stone ramp up ahead. His eyes were wild beneath his silver helmet, he was limping and he clearly bore several serious injuries from fighting. The mage who followed him down also looked the worse for wear, with several rips and tears in his robes. Elissa's brow furrowed in confusion. Fighting? There shouldn't be any reason for fighting up here. The darkspawn would have to have broken through Cailan's lines to get to the Tower.

"You," the soldier gasped out. "You're Grey Wardens, aren't you? The tower…it's been taken."

A chill settled over her heart, and her blood turned to ice.

"What are you talking about, man?" Alistair demanded. "Taken? How?"

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers." The soldier shook, unable to keep his muscles from trembling. "They're everywhere. Most of our men are dead."

Alistair glanced at her, and then up at the Tower above them. "Then we have to get to the beacon to light it ourselves."

"Perfect," she muttered, and reached over her back to grasp her shield and sword. Then she glanced at the soldier, who looked set to follow them up. "You're in no condition to fight, ser." With his injuries, he would be more of a liability than a help. The mage, however…

"But," he protested.

"We'll be fine," Elissa said despite her own apprehensions. "Alistair, myself, my mabari and the good mage over there." Even if she still didn't like mages…

"Yes," Alistair agreed, eyeing the injured man.

"If you are sure, Warden."

Elissa turned to the mage, who nodded firmly. "Let's go then." The four sprinted up the stone ramp, towards the base of the tower itself. Up ahead she spotted a pair of soldiers fighting desperately against a group of darkspawn. Firming her grip on her blade, she charged into the nearest clump of genlocks. Heat raced past her and she twisted in surprise to see a spray of fire emerging from the mage's hands. Three unholy shrieks filled the air as the darkspawn found themselves on fire, and the stench of burning flesh filled the air alongside the clash of metal. For a moment she was transported back two weeks, and she was running along the burning corridors of Castle Cousland in a desperate attempt to find her father. Her eyes blurred with unshed tears.

A blade whistled through the air, and she barely managed to raise her shield in time against a heavy axe. She staggered, and then recovered quickly, her blade flashing to decapitate her opponent. Another blade descended towards her head and she spun to meet that with her own blade, blocking it.

She moved on automatic, slashing and hacking at her opponents till they lay dead at her feet. When at last they were dead, she stood still, panting. Her eyes were wide and glassy, the bodies no longer the twisted, ugly bodies of the darkspawn but Oriana and Oren's mutilated forms. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"My lady!" Alistair's hand clamped down on her arm.

She jerked, returning to the present. She was staring down at darkspawn bodies again, with Oriana and Oren nowhere in sight. The stone ruins around her were Ostagar, not her home. Maker damn it! Why did she have to have a flashback now, after two weeks? She'd fought battles since, even against darkspawn, and nothing had happened. Her eyes fell on the charred body nearby. That was the difference then. Furiously, she dashed the tears from her cheeks with her hand, and looked up.

Alistair frowned. "Are you all right?" His gaze roamed her face, and she knew he could see the tear tracks.

"I'm fine." She shoved the memories aside again and straightened her shoulders. She needed to be the warrior now. She bent to wipe her sword off on the nearest darkspawn body, containing a shudder.

"You don't look it," he said.

"We don't have time for this. Is anyone hurt?" She glanced at the mage but he seemed unharmed. Duke nudged her legs and she looked down in time to catch the slobbery mess of coins and a single gem he spat into her hand. He'd looted the bodies. Despite herself, a faint smile came to her lips. Pocketing them, she turned to the others. "Then let's keep moving." She broke into a jog, the mage keeping pace with her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You're useful to have in a fight." She dimly recalled the sight of lightning and bolts of magic striking at the enemy. A shiver ran down her spine.

He smiled. "I can hold my own."

"I'm sorry, I never asked your name?"

"Kevaan of the Circle of Magi." He kept his eyes focused ahead of them. "You are the Lady E…Eileen of Highever?"

"Lady Elissa," she corrected him. "And this is Duke. And behind us is Alistair."

"Pleasure to meet you, my lady. Though I wish it had been in bett-" he cut himself off as they came into sight of another group of darkspawn.

"Oh crap," Alistair swore from behind her.

"You were the one complaining you wouldn't get to fight," she shouted over her shoulder, as she charged ahead. Duke was already there, snapping and biting at the darkspawn. She drove her blade into the unprotected back of one hurlock before it had time to turn to meet her. Spinning away, she plunged into the battle. This time, as the smell of charred flesh filled the air again, she gritted her teeth and kept her mind on the present. There would be no more flashbacks; she was determined.

The sound of heavy panting filled the room. Elissa grunted as she jerked her blade from the armoured back of a hurlock. Shaking out her arms, she glanced around. Everyone, including her, was drenched in darkspawn blood from battling their way through three floors of darkspawn. She didn't think she'd ever get that stink out of her nostrils. And, given that the mage seemed to like throwing sparks of fire from his hands, she'd even managed to learn to ignore the stench of burnt bodies. The flash of magic didn't startle her quite as much anymore, either.

"Maker's breath," Alistair said disgustedly as he straightened. The edge of a white bandage peeked from underneath his helm, where he'd managed to open a long graze where an arrow had skimmed his head when he'd thought himself invincible and not needing a helmet. "What are these darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here."

She threw him a look. "You could try telling them they're not supposed to be here?" As she moved her arm, she winced, feeling the agony of the arrow that had buried itself in her shoulder on the first floor. They'd yanked it out and crudely bandaged it to keep her from bleeding out on the floor, and then she'd swallowed a healing potion that would numb it and allow her to function for a little longer. But that potion was wearing off now, and the pain was coming back.

He snorted. "Right because clearly this is all just a misunderstanding. We'll laugh about this later."

"It's laugh or cry at this point," Kevaan said. He was trembling ever so slightly, and his pale blue eyes were glowing, a side-effect of drinking too many lyrium potions too quickly apparently. But he'd drained his mana repeatedly during their climb, and he'd had no other choice.

Duke barked from where he was waiting beside the door to the next floor. Even he suffered from several deep lacerations along his sides, courtesy of various darkspawn blades he'd been too slow to dodge.

"At any rate, we need to hurry." Alistair looked up at the staircase. "We need to get up to the top of the tower and light the signal fire in time. Teyrn Loghain will be waiting for the signal!"

"How many floors is this place anyway?" Elissa demanded.

"Next one is the top floor."

"Right." She set her shoulders and marched up the stairs. Shoving open the door, she darted inside. Then she came to an abrupt halt, her jaw dropping. "So much for your baby job, Alistair."

"Oh shit," Alistair's voice came from behind her.

A massive creature was on the far side of the room, the limp body of a soldier clutched in one enormous fist. Nearly ten foot tall when it straightened its bulk, its grey, scarred flesh was partially covered in armour, cobbled together like so many of the darkspawn she'd seen climbing the tower. A loud chomping sound, coupled with the disappearance of the man, made Elissa wince. Her stomach threatened to empty itself on the floor. Then she stepped back hastily as the ogre turned. Its dumb, beady eyes focused on the group by the door and it roared, spittle and bits of human flesh flying from its mouth.

Alistair audibly swallowed. "How in the Maker's name do we fight this thing?"

She thought quickly. Something that big was going to be slow, but powerful. The more people fighting from a distance, with time to move if its attention turned to them, the better. "Duke and I will distract it. Alistair, find a corner and use your crossbow. Kevaan, can you doing anything to slow it down?"

Kevaan nodded slowly. "I think so."

"Then do it," she snapped. "And get the hell out of the way. Duke, let's go." This was going to hurt, she could tell. She charged for the ogre, the blur of brown fur at her side. "Hamstrings, Duke."

She ducked a grabbing hand, and plunged her sword into the nearest tree trunk of a leg. A scream of pain was her reward, followed by a backhand so quick she couldn't dodge it. She flew through the air. Twisting in mid-air, she braced for the impact. Crashing to the floor, the air left her lungs with a whoosh.

She struggled upright, ignoring the aching muscles. Despite being riddled with crossbow bolts and moving a little slower than normal, the ogre was covering an impressive amount of ground with its thundering steps. Not so slow then. She swore as she realised it was headed for Kevaan. In his flimsy robe, he'd be dead within a heartbeat. "Duke!"

The dog lunged with a deafening howl, his teeth sinking into the ogre's thigh and ripping it open as he slid towards the floor. The ogre stopped, a roar of pain escaping its monstrous mouth. Duke went flying as the leg kicked back, only to crash into the floor some distance away. Elissa closed the gap to the ogre, and thrust her blade into its right arm, just below a thick, ugly scar. She danced out of the way of a fist that whistled past her nose. Now she was the prey, as she ran ahead of the lumbering ogre intent on catching her. "Keevan, slow it down again!"

"I can't." Despite the mage's words, a by-now familiar crackling sound filled the air and she heard the ogre bellow as Kevaan's lightning struck.

Alistair's shouted warning drew her attention. "Watch out!"

But it was too late, the enormous fist closed around her. Struggling, she drove her sword into its hand. As it squeezed her, agony burned along her ribs. The edge of her shield drove into her upper stomach. A sharp pain flared in her chest, and her vision began to go dark. Over its shoulder she glimpsed Alistair charging in with sword and shield in hand. Then there was a loud crashing sound, and suddenly she was released. She collapsed to the ground with a clatter. She scrambled backwards, and then to her feet. The ogre was busy with Alistair, making wild swipes at the ex-templar while Duke worried his legs. She swayed. Swiping a red vial from her belt, she tipped the fifth potion of the night down her throat. Warmth filled her muscles almost instantly; the fake strength offered by the healing potion was enough to keep her on her feet. Steadying herself, she resettled her sword and prepared to re-enter the melee.

The ogre let out a howl as blood splattered. Duke appeared beside it, and she realised the mabari had hamstrung the creature. Tightening her grip, she ran. Launching herself at the monster, she slammed into its chest. Her blade plunged into its chest. The blade sank slowly through the thick, leathery flesh. A blast of black blood caught her full in the face, and she barely got her mouth closed in time. It stumbled back two steps, off-balance like a drunkard. Its eyes went vacant and flat, and then the tension seemed to dissolve from its muscles. It toppled backwards to hit the ground, unseating her from her perch on its chest. She smashed into the ground for the third time, agony lancing along her chest again.

"Well." She coughed, watching as red flecks sprayed from her mouth. "What have we learned from that encounter?"

Alistair picked himself up from the floor. "Don't get grabbed by the ogre?"

"Are you all right?" Kevaan knelt beside her.

"Not precisely." She coughed again, and more blood emerged. A rib must have punctured a lung, she realised.

"I'm not very good at this, my lady," the mage warned. Then his hands glowed, and she felt blessed relief as the pain began to fade away in her chest. Then she jerked as a bright spark of pain flared again. "Sorry." Then he leaned back. "That's as much as I can do."

"Thank you." She levered herself upright, wincing.

"The beacon is over here. We surely missed the signal…let's light it quickly, before it's too late." Alistair waved towards a brazier in the wall.

She stumbled over to it, and then turned to Kevaan. "Can you…?"

There was a moment of silence and then flames flared amongst the wood. She could feel the rush of heat as the flames raced up the purpose-built chimney to light the beacon on the top of the tower.

"Thank the Maker," Alistair breathed, slumping against the wall.

"Now what?" Kevaan asked.

"We wait, I guess." She sighed. With a sigh she sheathed her blade and fastened her shield onto her back, wincing as it pulled at her injuries.

The mage frowned. "Why are you putting away your weapons? The darkspawn?"

"We've cleared the tower," Elissa pointed out. "There aren't any more."

"They came up the tower!" he said urgently. "From that hole we saw."

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Crap!"

With perfect, agonizing timing, the door slammed open, and a wave of darkspawn poured in. She fumbled for her blade. Sharp, agonizing pain slammed into her chest, once, twice, three times. She stared down at the three bolts buried in her chest and stomach, having punched through her armour. She couldn't breathe, and the world began to spin. Dimly, she heard Alistair's shout and then a crash, as though an armoured person collapsed to the ground. Then pain flared at the back of her head, and she knew no more.