I know I said there's one more chapter, but there will be yet another after this. A epilogue to wrap up any lose ends and questions. I had a most interesting review from the last chapter, someone taking great offence at Lucy's unusual family structure. I guess happy families are rather offensive. Funny how all the violence is never an issue. Ah well!

"Morrigan!" Bursting into sobs of joy, I ran to her, squeezing her with all the feelings of happiness I had. She stiffened in response, but that was normal for her. She hated displays of affection or strong emotion and I had an excess of both. Peeling me off, she held me at arm's length and inspected me.

"You look well. Please don't squish my child."

I could feel my face going blank with puzzlement. Then I looked down. "Oh!" There was a small girl clinging timidly to Morrigan's skirts, peeking around them. "Oh, blight me! You've got a daughter!" I stooped down so I was eye-level with her and grinned. "Well, hello there cutey! You look to be the same age as..."

"She is."

There was more starch in her voice than a Jesuit's collar as she interrupted, but it didn't stop my thought process. If she's Danny's age then that must mean Morrigan got pregnant shortly before we killed the archdemon, or after. Was she shtupping someone in our company?

"Oh, isn't she precious," I cooed. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

The girl only clung to her mother and stared mutely at me with fascination and fear. Poor girl. Had she been living in the Wilds with only her mother for companionship? She seemed utterly terrified of me.

"I named her Lucine," her mother said.

Tears sprang to my eyes again at the tribute that was implied in that name. "Morrigan..."

"Don't get slushy about it. I don't know a lot of girl's names. That just sprang to mind." She smiled at me suddenly. "Besides, I always liked your name and we got along pretty well."

"Well, I am honored. What brings you to Denerim?"

"I was hoping to visit for a while. To... to catch up. I may be leaving Ferelden, so this could be our last opportunity."

"Morrigan. How fascinating."

I turned around at the sound of Zevran's voice. He was leaning against the door frame. His face wearing that flat, inscrutable look I'd come to associate with suspicion and wariness, and usually someone dying at some point, but this was Morrigan. What was his problem?

"I see you're still here," Morrigan said. Her own face stiffened. "It is good to see you."

"Is it?" Zevran replied. Then he thawed, a big smile broke over his face, and came forward, taking Morrigan's hands in his own. "Ah, I tease you, my dear. Of course you are a welcome sight. We shared so much during the blight."

This was odd. As near as I knew, the two of them had always gotten along, but they were clearly not happy to see one another. It crossed my mind immediately that the child…could she be Zevran's? She looked like her mother and I saw nothing of Zevran in her. Still, that didn't mean he didn't contribute some genes. I frowned at Zevran. We'd definitely be chatting later. Meanwhile, she was our guest. If she wanted something-perhaps child-support?-she was still our guest, and my dear friend.

"Absolutely, Morri. We've got plenty of room here. I'll have a room set up for you two. There's always stew on in the kitchen, bread too. A bath–well, you can draw your own. After all you taught me that spell."

Chatting amiably, I led mother and daughter up the stairs to a room where they could wash up and rest and then left them to recover from what must've been a brutal trip in this horrid cold weather. The staff scurried around to ready our best guest room.

#

"Morrigan? That's the hedge witch you traveled with during the Blight?" Anders asked when I settled into bed that evening.

"Yes, that's her," I said. Zevran's cold reception still rankled. "I thought you liked her, Zev."

"I did not care for how she used you. And then she disappeared after the battle without saying goodbye. She never even came to the see how you were after the battle. Some friend. Bah! I will be happy to send her on her way if you wish, cara."

"Oh pooh! She just acts oddly sometimes. Growing up in near isolation in a swamp makes people odd. Anyway, that is Morrigan and how she handles things."

"Hmm," Zevran said skeptically. "She wants something, of course. You always trusted her blindly and she played you all along."

"Water under the bridge." Morrigan, my mage-sister, my Blight companion, had returned to say a final farewell. "What was done is done. Four years is a long time and people change."

"What happened?" Anders asked. "Sounds like Zevran doesn't really trust her."

Zevran shrugged. "You tell it, amore. She was your friend."

"Is my friend. She's a little rough around the edges at times, babe." I patted Anders on the knee under the covers. "She grew up with her weird mom in a swamp. I've told you about Flemeth."

"You've told me about her. Weird mom is putting it mildly," Anders said.

"Yes, well, her weird mom had a reason for sending Morrigan with us. She intended for her daughter to do some sort of ritual and-"

"Braska! Must we be forever reliving the blight?" Zevran said. He began undressing for bed with fury, flinging clothes everywhere.

What had gotten into him? One minute he asks me to tell the story, the next he doesn't want to hear it. Maybe it was finally the accumulated stress of his fight in Antiva, or post-traumatic stress disorder. He'd seemed pretty good for the last two years, only occasionally over responding to things or having nightmares. I didn't recall him acting this way when we'd talked about the blight before. Often he'd tell some sort of halfway shocking story and have everyone laughing.

Anders and I looked at each other, surprise written on both of our faces.

"No, of course not," I said calmly, trying to hide the hurt and confusion I was feeling.

Anders came to my rescue. "Listen, things were just getting good, in that book we've been reading. Let's read some more of that, shall we? Lucy, will you do the honors? You've perfected the voice for Anna. Rawr!" He squeezed my knee in the spot that always made me squirm.

I punched him in the arm. I hated when he did that knee thing. "All right." Picking up the book, I found where we left off. "Chapter 20," I read. "Fifty Shades of Grey Warden. The Joining."

"What foul liqueur is this?" Anna asked as she was passed the chalice.

"Question not, young recruit. Drink. All will become clear soon." The commander scowled at her.

She raised the dark ichor to her plump lips and, nearly choking on the smell, drank deeply of the corruption. The world blurred and the commander seemed to split and divide, two of him towering over her, watching with sadistic amusement. She gasped, stumbled and grabbed the edge of a table. Then she fell in a faint, not even realizing the commander had swooped her into his arms at the last moment and was carrying her to the proving chamber.

Zevran had climbed into bed as I read and nestled close, his hand running up and down my thigh. "And this, mia cara, is how it was for you?"

It was a relief that Zevran seemed to have forgotten his earlier irritation and was taking interest in the story and my thigh.

"Ha! I've told you that story. I never actually underwent the Joining. It was Elissa who drank that stuff. But I can't imagine Duncan doing that. Well, that's not entirely true. I can actually imagine it. Have, in fact, a number of times. Not that he would, mind you, except in my imagination."

Anders grinned at me. "Funny, I had similar fantasies about my Joining. It was something of a disappointment in reality. You never carried me to the proving chamber."

I punched him again.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd that the author seems to have such knowledge of the Grey Wardens?" Anders said, rubbing his arm.

"No," I said. "What strikes me as odd is that the Grey Wardens imagine they can keep all this stuff a secret."

"Agreed," Anders said. "I'd certainly have blabbed it if the Warden Commander hadn't seduced me."

I gave a little shriek of outraged protest. "I seduced you?" That earned him a third punch to the arm. "Oh ho! You pursued me relentlessly."

"I want to hear what happens in the proving chamber," Zevran said. "Perhaps we should have a proving chamber, no?"

"I'd say we're in the proving chamber right now," I said. "Maker knows, between the two of you I've had my share of torture."

Between the book, the good-natured banter, and what followed later, I forgot about Zevran's outburst and went to sleep with a big smile on my lips. Was it fair for one woman to feel so loved?

#

It was a close thing. Morrigan being here was dangerous. There was only one time Zevran had betrayed Lucy, and he'd never confessed to it. If she found out now, he might lose her forever.

That night, more than four years ago now, he'd gone to Morrigan as he told Lucy he would. The witch had been adamant. She would not return unless she got what she wanted, a baby conceived by a Warden. Even more compelling, she had told him that a Grey Warden must die unless she arranged this mystical ritual and conception. He had believed her. If he could do something to save them, then he must try.

Four years ago

"I will drink the Joining potion myself, if I must," Zevran offered.

Morrigan cocked her head and looked at him as if examining his suitability. "No offense, Zevran, but t'would most likely kill you. You already carry a toxic burden from the poisons you use. But there's another. Loghain. I sense that he could survive."

"But would he do it?"

The witch had laughed. "You must be joking? He is besotted. Take the potion. She keeps it in her sock drawer. You can steal it, no? Fortunately there's no lock on her sock drawer. Tell him what I have told you. He will certainly do it."

Zevran bridled at the insult to his lock picking skills. "If Loghain can be convinced, then I will deliver him to you."

He slipped into the night, stole the last dose of Avernus's Joining potion, and then sneaked into Teyrn Loghain's quarters late that night. The general was sitting at his desk, pouring over a map of the city's defenses.

"General Loghain," Zevran said quietly, standing behind the Teyrn, but well out of reach.

Roaring as he sprung from his chair, he reached for his sword and turned to confront the intruder. "What is this about then, assassin?" he growled at the Antivan as he took a step forward, his sword leading the way.

Zevran spread his arms to show he was weaponless. "A mutual friend of ours is doomed, my lord. There's a way we can save her."

"Lucy." The Teyrn put his weapon down, but kept it close. "She told me. I was intending to drink the loathsome concoction that would make me a Warden. I can take the killing blow. I knew she'd never agree, so I was going to conspire with the bastard to get it for me. Besides, there are certain advantages to taking the potion that might help in the upcoming battle."

"Ah, well, I've saved you the trouble, Ser." Zevran held up the bottle with the very last dose of Avernus's potion. "There's just a little more to it than drinking this cocktail, you see. How could you guarantee that you take the killing blow? Battling a dragon is certain to be chaotic, yes?"

Loghain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "True. There are never any guarantees."

"Except in this case, my lord, there is. No Warden need die." Zevran said. How was he to suggest to this renowned general that he had to plough a witch?

"Indeed?" he said. His tone was skeptical. "And how is this miracle supposed to happen?"

"It requires a bit of magic. It is a spell. I don't quite know all the details other than..." He paused for a moment, covering his uncertainty with a cough.

"Spill it, assassin, I have plans to attend to. Give me the potion and let's put an end to it."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace. It's just that if you truly want to ensure that a Warden doesn't die when the archdemon does, you'll have to..." He pretended to cough and smothered it with his sleeve and muttered, "sleep with the witch."

"Fall asleep at the switch?" Loghain repeated.

"Er, no. Witch."

"Fall asleep at the witch?"

"Well, a witch. And yes, sleep. Fall asleep, not so much."

Squinting his eyes, Loghain seemed to be reparsing his sentence while watching Zevran dubiously. "I need to sleep with a witch?"

"Yes."

"And by sleep, you don' t mean actual sleep," Loghain said.

"Excellent deduction, Excellency."

Sighing, Loghain reached for the bottle of Antivan brandy and poured a healthy portion. Zevran wholly approved of the anesthetic. It would dull the shock.

"And is this witch Lucy?" Loghain took a deep draught of the amber fluid. "I think I can bear the sacrifice."

The distrust in Loghain's eyes told Zevran he didn't believe for a moment that the witch was Lucy. "No, Your Grace. In this case, the witch is Morrigan."

"And why, pray tell, must I fuck the spawn of Flemeth?"

This marked the moment that Zevran began to dissemble. The truth of the matter was Morrigan had some crazy scheme to hatch a god by impregnating herself with tainted semen. If what she said was true, it would save the Wardens from being destroyed by the archdemon attempting to possess them.

If it was true or simply that Morrigan herself was deluded or had a fetish she wanted to indulge, he didn't care. On the off chance it saved Danny and Lucy, he would accomplish this. He had a vial of sleeping draught in his pocket. If necessary he'd drug the teyrn and bring Morrigan to his chamber. Hopefully, she could manage the deed with an unconscious man.

"It is some mysterious ritual, ser, involving sex. She swears it will save the Warden who kills him from dying. I know you intend to take that blow yourself, my lord, but, even as you said, how can you be certain?"

Loghain thought for a moment, took another swig of brandy, and then rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "This seems farfetched."

"What's the worst that could happen? You spend a bit of time with a beautiful and willing woman. One who will never ask you for anything. I should think a man who has sacrificed so much for his country could find himself up to performing one more heroic deed."

Loghain groaned. "Enough. I will do it. Give me the potion to make me a Warden and I will fornicate with the witch."

Things rarely go as planned. Loghain passed out when he drank the Joining potion. Zevran feared he had died. It was very late when he finally awoke. But in the end Zevran delivered the newly created Grey Warden to Morrigan and she had her way with the Fereldan general. Judging from her moans, as he stood outside the door, he began to think perhaps he'd been right to think it was a fetish after all.

#

It isn't lying, is it? Not if you deliver some of the truth. Loghain didn't need to know his part in creating Morrigan's godling. Besides, he was more than just a little dubious that this plan of Morrigan's could even work. So when Lucy had asked him how he had managed to talk Morrigan into returning, he'd deflected her with charm and Lucy was only too happy with the results.

Loghain must have shaded the truth too, leaving out the ritual with Morrigan. Riordan was angry that he'd given the general the Joining. It had led to a falling out, but they'd patched it up in the end. He could only imagine how furious Riordan would've been had he known the full extent of what Zevran had done. The thought turned like a knife in his heart as thoughts of Riordan reawakened a sorrow that would never completely die. But Morrigan was here now and his role in this could be exposed. Was the child hiding in her skirts the reincarnation of the archdemon? Perhaps her spell had gone wrong after all. Still, whether or not the spell had worked, his part in it must not come to light. Could Lucy ever forgive him for it?

#

Morrigan watched for a few days, quietly marking the unusual boy. He never pouted, cried or had tantrums. He seemed to watch the world, taking everything in and cataloging it. Sometimes the boy was astoundingly clever at manipulating adults. Those beautiful green eyes would open wide, or a set of dimples would show, and suddenly everything went his way. Of course, the god of beauty would be a charmer. If only things had gone as planned, Lucine would have ruled Thedas by twenty.

Perhaps it wasn't too late to correct the mistake. The hard part would be getting the boy away from his mother and the two men she was cohabitating with. But morning brought fresh ideas. Morrigan was a pleasant and thoughtful guest, helping Lucy where she could, offering to watch the children while Lucy went about her business.

"Would you like to hear a story?" Morrigan asked the children. Lucine nodded happily, clutching Danny's hand in hers. "Well, come then, let's go up to the library. The chairs are comfortable up there. Perhaps we can even have a slice of cake."

"Okay," Danny said. The subject of cake was one that came up often in his negotiations with his elders.

"Okay," Lucine parroted. She'd already picked up the odd word that Lucy always said when she meant to signal agreement.

The children followed Morrigan into the kitchen. "We need some cake sent up to the library immediately." She stood in the center of the kitchen, not sure who was in charge, but looked imperiously at the staff, her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry, madam," one woman came forward. She seemed to have an air of authority about her. "The commander has said that Danny isn't to have cake except after he has eaten his supper."

"Is that a fact? Well, I am in charge of the children today, and I say they must have cake," Morrigan said, drawing herself up a little straighter and looking down her nose at the shorter woman. There was a flicker of her fingers, half-hidden by her skirt, and the woman stepped back, suddenly cowed.

"Of course, madam. I'll have it sent up immediately."

Morrigan indulged a smug smile. Flemeth's grimoire had some exceedingly interesting spells, indeed.

When she turned to look at the children, Lucine was cringing behind Danny, but Danny looked at her hands curiously.

"Well, come children! Let's have stories and cake." Morrigan's smile was warm and maternal as she herded the children into the library.

She was disappointed to find nothing in the library suitable for the unawakened god-child, so she made up some stories, tinged with truth. The children listened raptly as she told them of the brilliant and daring mages of the Tevinters and the temples dedicated to the worship of the old gods.

A couple of hours passed and Lucine began to fidget. Danny pronounced himself hungry and the trio tromped downstairs and waited for supper in the common room.

"Why doesn't the Maker like the old gods?" Danny asked.

Morrigan, fearing someone might overhear, put her finger to her lips and shushed the child. "Because, my sweetling, he was jealous of them. Tis always such with the so-called Maker. He is forever stomping off in a snit whenever things don't go his way." She hugged Danny close to her and whispered into his ear. "But such knowledge is secret and we mustn't share it with anyone. All right?"

Danny pulled away and nodded. "I can keep secrets."

Morrigan smiled warmly. Oh yes, you certainly can, can't you?

#

Lingering over his morning tea, Zevran watched Morrigan carefully as they shared the breakfast table alone together. It was the first morning in some time that he hadn't needed to rush off to attend to some official task for the Ferelden crown. A shifty Orlesian ambassador had been his target. He'd been tailing him for almost two weeks now and still hadn't discovered anything interesting. Something was there. The man practically oozed intrigue.

Unofficially, he was the head of the CIA in Ferelden. It was a name coined by Lucia. Central Intelligence Agency, she said. Of course, he was the only one actually employed by the agency, but Anora promised it would grow someday and he would be the master of spies. Lucy was thrilled at the appointment, happy he had an important role to play in the government. It suited him. Lately he'd been making some important contacts in the Ferelden underworld. A few elven servants working for various Ferelden lords were well compensated for interesting tidbits of salacious gossip they brought him.

Not this morning, though. He could take his time reporting to the castle. The Orlesian ambassador was out drinking late last night, and he wouldn't be up until noon.

Meanwhile, there was Morrigan, who, against all his expectations, turned out to be the perfect house guest. Not only did she volunteer to watch Danny and her own daughter-and who imagined Morrigan taking care of children? Eating them was more her style. She had ingratiated herself even further by teaching Lucia a "useful" new spell to make things grow. Brasca! Why did she think it was so funny quadruple an already enormous sewer rat? It was now the size of a small mabari and fled back into the sewers. It was rather funny at the time, thanks to Anders's herbs they'd puffed on earlier that day, but sooner or later they'd have to go down there and kill it.

"Did I grow an extra head overnight?" Morrigan caught his lazy stare. Her eyes narrowed as she returned it.

"Ah, the world would be twice so fortunate were you to double your beauty by sprouting another head. No, I was thinking perhaps you'd lost the only one you have. Why, my dear, why did you return? I seem to recall we had an agreement. You'd get Loghain's spawn and, after the archdemon died, you'd leave and never to return. Yet, here you are."

"Can't I see my closest friend, Lucy? We were like sisters once."

"A sister you would have abandoned in her greatest hour of need. Tsk, tsk! I'm sure you can do better."

Morrigan drew breath sharply, as if wounded. "It wasn't my finest moment, I will admit. All the more reason to return and apologize."

Perhaps he was losing his edge, but there could be something to it. The two women had been close during the blight and Morrigan was always a manipulator. "And your child? Did you manage to entrap the soul of an old god in her?" He'd gargle with concentrated crow poison if she had. The child was more like a neglected waif roaming the Alienage than some reborn god of old.

Morrigan looked down and sheepishly smiled. "No. She's as ordinary as you Zevran. There's nothing magical about her in the slightest. I suspect it was Avernus's potion that is to blame. Those Wardens who drink it seem more adept at keeping the taint in check. I think there wasn't enough taint in Loghain to make the spell work."

He laughed at being called ordinary. "Those of us lacking magic make up for it in other ways. I'm sure your daughter will too." It was interesting about the lack of taint in Loghain. He had hopes that Anders and Lucy wouldn't ever experience their calling. If Avernus's potion was what kept the ancient mage alive, then perhaps his two Wardens would also age more slowly.

Well, then, his suspicions were confirmed. Morrigan had failed to capture the archdemon's soul. It allayed Zevran's suspicions, but only somewhat. Where Morrigan was concerned, it was wise to be cautious.

Idly stirring her tea, Morrigan looked up and smiled slyly. "I'm not the only one with a guilty conscience when it comes to Lucy."

With a quiet chuckle, Zevran relaxed into his chair, but his corners of his eyes tightened. "I do what I must to protect my family, capisce? She might not always understand my methods, but don't make the mistake of thinking I've forgotten how to be a Crow."

"There's nothing wrong with my memory, elf. But do set aside your suspicions and let's get along, for Lucy's sake if for no other reason." She set aside the spoon and took a dainty sip of the tea. "I am not ungrateful for your hospitality."

He shrugged and rose lazily from the table, stretching to relax his taut muscles. "I hope I'm wrong about you, Morrigan."

"You are, elf. You are."

"I'd better be." He left the kitchen and could almost swear the witch's eyes burned holes into his back.

#

"What're you cooking up over there, Zev?" Anders was across the lab, pounding something that smelled like garlic in a mortar.

"Prolixia, a most interesting potion. It can, in the hands of a skillful user, make the most reluctant bird sing. Did I ever tell you the time I used it on rich merchant and, with a bit of aptly applied persuasion, he told me where he had hidden the corpse of his wife, a fortune he stole from her family, and confessed he loved me?"

"Are you seriously tell me it is a truth serum? I thought such things were fables." Anders carefully measure a rank smelling yellow powder into the already garlicky smelling mixture, then looked up at the assassin with disbelief.

"Eh, by itself, no. It just makes people really want to talk. Lower their suspicions, loosen their inhibitions and they'll tell you almost anything." He held up the glass beaker to the sun and watched the red color dissolve out of the blood lotus and into the suspension liquid. It reminded him of an Antivan sunset, gaudy and bloody. Gorgeous. It also reminded him of Lucia's hair. Blood lotus was a rare and beautiful flower.

"So, Antiva," Anders said as he idly crushed and mixed his own compound. "Speaking of secrets, what is with this Morrigan? I couldn't help but notice you and Lucy seem to be at odds over her. Was there a little something going on between you two during the Blight?"

"Jealous?" Zevran said shooting Anders a sly glance.

"So there was?"

Zevran snorted. "Nothing. I was too busy watching someone else's backside to think about hers."

"So why do you dislike her?" Anders said, pressing Zevran for answers.

"I don't dislike her. She's perfectly charming when she wants something from you." He hesitated and rummaged through a drawer looking for another ingredient. "Until she doesn't get it," he murmured softly.

"Eh?" Anders said his attention fully on Zevran.

"Nothing important. What are you mixing over there? The whole room smells of garlic!" He adroitly changed the subject.

The pair worked amicably, sharing the same laboratory. They often talked of having separate labs, but they enjoyed the company. Lucy worried they might get their worked mixed up and accidentally poison someone, but Anders swore he could cure any accidental poisonings and they were both cautious.

"I'm working on a blood tonic that will cleanse the liver and balance the humors," the mage said. "But there's a problem. We're out of the spirits I need to make an extract."

"What do you need?"

"Antivan brandy works well. Sugar content isn't too high."

"We should have it. Ask the cook," Zevran said, turning back to his potion.

"She said we're out."

"No. We just tapped a new barrel not a month ago." Zevran couldn't believe they'd already managed to drink up that much brandy. "Ah, there's some in the library. No one ever goes in there. Keep working, Twitch. I'll get it." Zevran winked at the mage and set off for the library.

Morrigan had been going there a lot with the kids during the day. Telling them stories, she said. Pah! When did she become such a doting mother? The little girl, Lucine, had blossomed a little during their weeks here. Spending time with other people, especially Danny, had been good for her. Too bad Morrigan hadn't spent some time with people other than her crazy mother; perhaps she would have turned out better.

As he went down the hall, he could hear Morrigan's voice. She wasn't whispering, but her voice was low and intense. Something about it made him slow down and walk quietly so could hear more.

"What do you recall, Danny? Can you remember the beat of your powerful wings as you rode the winds? Do you remember ruling over men and accepting their offerings of gold, jewels and blood? Do you remember how you died, with your mother's sword in your belly?"

Zevran froze in place and it felt like the blood was freezing in his veins. What was the witch doing? The beat of his powerful wings? Did she believe… Danny, the archdemon? The ice in his blood nearly gripped his heart. Could it be true? No! Absolutely not. Danny was a sweet, gentle boy. He was the son of Riordan and Lucy, almost certainly, the two people he had loved most in this world. No! Even now, four years later, he could remember that conversation with the witch.

"Why Loghain? Why not Riordan?"

"Even if I thought Riordan could be convinced, he is unsuitable. I need one who has not been tainted for too long."

She had said it herself. Riordan was too tainted and the combination of Lucy's taint with his would have been too much, yes? So the only explanation was the witch was insane. She was mad with jealousy over their son. Her daughter, sweet child that she was, seemed like a mouse compared to him. She was trying to seduce their children with wild stories. The chill in his veins was replaced by a surge of hot anger.

"Morrigan!" He strode into the library and noticed how the witch jumped and looked up, alarm written plainly on her face.

"Zevran, do you still lurk around corners and spy on people? Such a bad habit." Her tone was pure acid.

His fingers itched to place themselves around her neck and squeeze but there were the children to think of. "Danny, take Lucine to the kitchen and tell the cook I said you could have a slice of cake."

"But daddy, we already had cake," Danny said.

"Have more cake, son."

Danny shared a grin with Lucine. He gripped her hand and practically pulled her off the couch. They charged out of the library leaving the two adults.

"What lies are you telling my boy? This is why you came here isn't it?" Zevran said.

"Your son is the child I was meant to have, Zevran. My mother never took into account Avernus's formula, that it would limit the taint, even in Riordan's body. There wasn't enough taint in Loghain's seed to draw the archdemon to our child."

"You're mistaken, witch. Danny is no archdemon. He is a boy. My son."

"No, 'tis you who are mistaken. On two counts. Danny is not your son and he does have the soul of an old god within him. You're blinded to it, but doesn't he seem a little too perfect? Too advanced for a child of a mere four years?" Morrigan rose from the little divan.

"In every way that matters, he is my son. Exceptional he is, but that means nothing."

"You're a fool, Zevran. Open your eyes and recognize that you know nothing of how to raise a god. You and Lucy are over your heads!"

He stepped closer to Morrigan, raising his hand about slap her, but stopped himself short of delivering the blow. "You've worn out your welcome. Tonight you will pack and I will see you to the gates of Denerim come morning. I warn you, Morrigan. This ends here and now. If we ever cross paths again I will kill you. This I swear."

The witch drew herself up, clamping her jaw and glaring at the assassin. Her nostrils flared as she breathed heavily. "Very well. I will leave."

Zevran stood his ground, watching her as she left the library, wondering if he should have just killed her.

~o~o~o~

"Where's Morri?" Lucy asked that night at supper. She got in late from the factory and looked worn out, but happy. A large order of toilets had just been sent to the Free Marches.

"She said she isn't feeling well," Zevran said. He smiled pleasantly at Lucy and squeezed her knee.

"You didn't poison her did you?" Lucy said, joking with him.

Zevran laughed with her, but his face felt like a mask. I wish I had.

#

In the night he dreamed of dark wings and then the dark lady stood over his bed and whispered to him. "Awaken, Urthemiel." White sparkles trailed from her fingers and over him. Yawning he stretched his limbs and sat up in bed.

"Hi." He was curious and not at all afraid. Why was she in his room in the middle of the night? Did she want to play the dragon game again?

"Do you want to fly?" she asked him.

He was a boy, of course he wanted to fly. He wanted to be a dragon and fly. Even if it was just pretend, it was fun. "Sure."

"Then come."

She turned into a dog, or maybe a wolf, he wasn't sure. Mommy could do that too, but with other animals. Maybe Morrigan would teach him how to be a dragon.

He followed her outside, fascinated by her soft fur and wolfish smile. They went out the back door and through the garden to the gate. He stretched up on his tippy toes to unlatch it. Mom might get mad for a little bit—he might not get any treats for a day or two—but learning to fly was worth it.

They turned out onto the cobble-paved street and the wolf began to move quickly, faster than he could run. His toe caught an uneven paver and he went down to his knees, but caught himself with his hands before he fell all the way down. The rough stones burned and tore his skin. He examined the wound, seeing how the skin peeled up in little flakes. In one spot it was red and mottled and a little blood oozed out. Tears burned in his eyes at the pain and surprise of the ground coming up to smack his knees, but he didn't cry. Something within him didn't like crying boys. Run.

So the boy got up and followed on. The wolf-lady stopped and waited for him to catch up, and then went on again.

"Wait!" he called out after her. The only hint she gave that she heard was a short, quiet bark.

She took many twists and turns through the streets. It seemed far away. Mom would worry, but he knew how to take care of himself. Or at least, he was pretty sure he could. Since Morrigan had come and told him those stories, he had memories of taking care of himself. Terrifying memories. He'd woken up in the night, a scream of fright never quite making it out of his throat. We don't scream in terror.

That was the night that the thing inside him first spoke to him. He'd been becoming aware of its presence, finding that there was a part of him that seemed separate, yet inside him. Cal's nurse had told the boys about golems. He'd imagined that when he was really little he had swallowed one and now it was coming to life inside him, telling him things, showing him things. Once Danny asked if it had a name and the golem had said something that was too big for him to remember. It sounded like "Themmel" so Danny thought of him as Themmy, but he never dared to say the name out loud.

His breath came in pants, like a dog's, as he ran after the magical lady. Faster. He followed her around a corner and ran smack into a man's legs.

"Hey, brat!" The man lurched and grabbed for him.

He smelled bad. Fight. Themmy wanted him to stop, not run away from the bad-smelling man. You can do it. Try. Do what? Something wild welled up from inside him. His feet tingled like Zevran was tickling him or Anders was making little sparks up his spine. It built up pressure in his middle and then it burst from him: a light so bright in the darkness that it blinded him for a moment. He yelled and shut his eyes but still saw a jagged line of searing white even with his eyes closed. When he opened them there was still a bright line but he could also see a cloud of white ash swirling around where the man had stood, and a pair of dirty, tattered, smoldering shoes.

Did I do that? Yes, we did it. I made the bad man go away? Good boy. Now run!

The boy tore down the street, following where the wolf-lady had run. Running was good. He didn't need to think about the bad-smelling man and what happened to him. You killed him. No! There was only a deep chuckle within him. Themmy was happy. A feeling came to him, one that overrode his fear: joy. There were feelings pouring out of Themmy, so many he didn't know what they were. Pictures of pretty ladies tied to stakes, young men pushed into smoking mountains, and a dragon watched from a high perch. Through it all he felt-no Themmy felt-joy, pride...

"No!" Danny yelled. He wanted to stop running after the wolf-lady and go back home, but Themmy had grown stronger and his feet wouldn't obey. You will run!

Danny's world was reduced to the pounding of his feet and the tearing of air through his aching lungs. Before he didn't mind Themmy. He was something special, a secret friend, someone that helped him, but now he was scared.

No, no, no! The words echoed like a chant through Danny's mind. He regretted running after the wolf-lady, regretted disobeying the rule about leaving the compound without permission. It didn't matter now. He was lost and had no idea how to get back to his mom. I will protect you. The thought echoing up from Themmy did nothing to ease his mind, only made it all worse. Themmy, the thing inside him, was awakening now and Danny sensed this was a very bad thing.

His feet finally stopped as he came to the edge of the river. There was nowhere to turn, but the wolf-lady was there too. She stopped being a wolf and became the lady again. "I want to go home!"

"Be brave, my boy," Morrigan said. "There is greatness inside you, don't you feel it? You're a very, very special boy indeed."

"No!" Danny lied. He did feel it, had ever since he could remember.

"You need to let it through." Morrigan crouched down to his level and took his hands in hers. "Just relax a little, my sweet." A gray mist floated from her hands and encased his, cold and wet.

Relax, boy. Step aside.

"No!" he shouted. Or he thought he shouted, but it was just a whisper as the mist traveled up his arm, wrapping his shoulders. He felt even more of himself slipping away.

"Urthemiel, do you hear me?" Morrigan stared intensely into Danny's eyes as if searching for something, someone.

"Yes."

That wasn't him answering. Urthemiel? Something within the boy shifted. Didn't Zevran tell him that the dragon mommy killed was named Urthemiel? The Archdemon Urthemiel was inside him? Panic threatened to engulf him, but he couldn't move against the lassitude that was flowing over his body. A shrill scream, one he couldn't vocalize, took root in his brain and built.

"Come, Urthemiel. It is time to free yourself," Morrigan said. She smiled at the boy, but it was really the god she wanted to encourage.

"It... The boy's will is strong. Like his whore-mother's, Lucy."

Danny's voice was all wrong. It wasn't his at all. Deeper, more mature. Remember! What did Zevran say, how did mommy fight the archdemon? He said it went inside her too, but she fought with it there. The scream of terror became one of fury as his field of vision shrunk. You cannot! Mine! The unheard scream grew as more of his senses were taken until just one small pinpoint of light remained. A tiny bit more and he would be forever shut off from his own senses. The scream became a spear and he aimed it for the center of the presence that was robbing him of his own body.

The world erupted in light and the last thing he saw was a pair of yellow eyes opening wide in surprise. He fell into darkness and knew nothing more.

#

Something woke Zevran. Whatever it was, it was past. He strained his ears to hear if anything stirred, but the Warden compound was silent. Then he heard it, the door to the compound shutting. Good! The witch was leaving. All would be well again. He turned to his side, preparing to go back to sleep. Sunrise was a few hours off and tomorrow would be busy.

Sleep, however, wasn't coming. Morrigan's appearance and behavior played through his mind. Could she be right? Could Danny truly be the god Urthemiel? Ridiculous! Still, he carefully got out of bed and dressed. It wouldn't hurt to tail her and make sure she really did leave the city.

First though he checked the witches bedroom. Odd. The bed was unmade and there was only one small lump in the bed. He stole over to look and saw Lucine's angelic face peeping out from the covers. Morrigan was nowhere to be seen.

If he'd had hackles, they'd have raised. Why had Morrigan left behind her daughter? He considered waking up the child, but figured Morrigan hadn't told her anything. Something didn't add up. He slipped out of the room and went downstairs. "You know nothing of how to raise a god. You and Lucy are over your heads!"

She was clearly out of her mind. Then alarm jolted through his body. She wanted Danny. That had been clear. Had she taken him and left her daughter, righting the mistake she thought was made at the death of the Archdemon?

He ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Danny's room. Throwing open the door, not caring about noise now, and saw the boy's bed was empty. Only his favorite golem doll was there.

"Lucia! Anders!" he shouted and ran to their room. "Get up!" He pulled the blankets from the inert forms in their bed calling their names until their eyes opened.

"Maker's spit, Zevran," Lucy said. "What's going on?" She sat up looking rumpled but waking quickly now.

"Danny's gone. Your dear friend, that witch Morrigan, took him," Zevran said, nearly spitting her name out with fury. Why had he let her stay one more night? He should have kicked her out immediately. Even better, he should've ended her. It was more guilt to bear.

Lucy looked confused. Even now she couldn't accept that Morrigan had betrayed her. "Why?"

"Does it matter now?" Zevran said. "We have to find them!"

Anders rubbed the sleep out of his face and got up. "We can look from air."

Zevran nodded. "I'll search the grounds. Maybe I can pick up some foot prints."

Lucy seemed to be in shock. "Did you check his room? Maybe he's in the wardrobe? Boys do stupid things like hide and then fall asleep."

"Lucia, no. He is not in the compound and I'm sure the witch has him."

Anders had already opened the window and was transforming into a crow.

Zevran was torn between wanting to stay with her to reassure her, but who knew how much of a head start Morrigan had on them. He had to leave. "I must go, cara." He turned, leaving the stunned woman behind him, and raced down the stairs, grabbing a bow and pair of daggers at a weapons rack.

Stupido! Zevran cursed himself for trusting the witch to live up to her word. If Danny was gone or harmed, it would be his fault. How would he live with himself? He searched the ground carefully, thankful for the bright moonlight on this night. There were no tracks in the soft ground in front of the compound so he ran to the other side and went out the garden door.

There! Fresh dog prints, wolf prints most likely, and small footprints following them. They ended at the edge of the garden. He left the garden and looked both ways down the street. Which way? If Morrigan were trying to steal him it seemed unlikely she would go deeper into the city, so he guessed she went toward the outskirts. He went down the street, scanning the cobbles for some indication. A fresh clump of dirt, anything, but there was nothing he could pick out of the night. He might as well have been blind.

#

Morrigan stole Danny? My blood felt like ice water. It just didn't compute. Something nattered at the back of my mind, but I was stunned and too confused to pursue the thoughts that were trying to bubble up to the surface.

I woodenly flexed my fingers, trying to cast the spell to turn into a crow but I had forgotten how. I had forgotten everything I had ever known about magic as anxiety shutdown my brain. Calm. Calm. Calm. I can't help him if I panic. Closing my eyes I drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then I tried to cast the spell again. This time it worked, although my feathers seemed wrong somehow. I hopped to the window sill and flew off, winging my way lopsidedly around Denerim. My flight feathers were fucked up from my poor spell casting.

Spotting Zevran down below, I called to him and circled, letting him know I was nearby. He waved, but turned his eyes down, examining the street closely.

I flew ever widening circles around Zevran, higher than the buildings, looking for anything that might be Danny. Several times I spotted something and swooped down awkwardly to look and found inanimate objects or drunks passed out on the ground. I was about to give way to despair when another crow, squawking loudly, flew to me at top speed. It was Anders, he must've found something. We circled in the air and just as we shifted course, there was a brilliant beam of light that came from a spot near the river. Danny? I saw Zevran break into a run heading for the place and we flew at top speed.

On a street that ran along the river I saw a small form lying in the middle of the cobbles, centered in a blackened ring. I cried out a sickly quork and dove down, Anders following just behind. We both reversed the shape-shifting spell and I fell on the prostrate body of my son.

"Danny!" I choked out his name past the lump in my throat and gathered him to my chest. His form hung limply in my arms. With tears streaking down my face, I looked at Anders. Nothing more would come out of my mouth but sobs and a soundless plea for a miracle.

"I need to see him, Lucy," he said softly. He stooped down and gently, so gently, lifted him out of my arms and laid him back on the ground again. His hands streamed blue healing light and it lit my son with an eerie blue glow.

I waited to see my baby take that gasping breath that so many have taken under Anders's healing magic, bringing them back from the edge of death, but his chest didn't move. It seemed like hours, but only minutes had passed when Anders rested his hand on my son's chest, head bent, and the magic flickered out. Slowly he raised his head. "I'm sorry, Lucy. There's nothing..."

"No," I said quietly, stubbornly refusing to believe. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard running feet as Zevran finally caught up with us. "Keep trying. He's not..." I couldn't say the word.

"Cara," Zevran said. He bent down beside and held onto me as I gathered Danny into my arms again. "Cara, I'm sorry. This is my fault." He groaned as if in physical pain. "I am responsible."

His words made no sense so I tuned them out. "Danny, listen to me!" I gave his limp little body a gentle shake. "You aren't going anywhere, young man! You get back into this body and take another breath or you're grounded for a week. Do you hear me?"

"Lucy." Anders shook his head, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it.

I ignored him and gripped my son, burying my face into his sweet neck and smelling him. He smelled of fresh dirt, rain, and soap. He smelled like my boy. I couldn't let him go. The realization crept over me, leaving me numb and feeling just as lifeless as-

He stiffened in my arms, trembled, and at last he took a deep, shaking breath.

"Danny!" I cried. "Oh sweet, Maker. Keep breathing, baby!"

His eyes opened and sought out mine. "Mommy? Is Themmy gone?"

"Morrigan? I think so, baby. I think so." I burst out into a fresh bout of crying but he smiled and his eyes fell closed. He passed out, but his sweet little chest kept rising and falling.

Anders took him from me again and examined him. "Odd. It is almost as if his body turned off and turned on again."

I turned a puzzled look on Anders. "He rebooted?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Totally not important." The tears wouldn't stop coming. I had a feeling it would be days or weeks, maybe months, before I'd stop feeling like a piece of myself had nearly been torn away and destroyed. We picked Danny up and walked slowly toward the Warden compound.

Along the way Zevran pointed to a piece of smoking fur. "Perhaps that is the last we will see of Morrigan."

#

Zevran hadn't been himself since the incident with Danny and Morrigan. Anders remembered what the former-Crow had said. He caught Zevran alone one night in his lab and shared a bottle of fine Orlesian wine with him. Once they both were pleasantly tipsy Anders ventured to the topic of what had happened.

"So, do you know why Morrigan tried to steal Danny?" Anders asked.

"Hmmm." Zevran swirled the wine in his glass, staring at the amber liquid sparkling with the reflection of the fire in the hearth. The pause extended so long that Anders nearly gave up on expecting an answer. Finally, he spoke. "Have you ever done something out of love, but perhaps it was a questionable thing? Something that the ones you love wouldn't have understood, but you knew it to be the right thing?"

Anders cocked his head and looked questioningly at him. Then the answer struck him. Of course he had. Invading Lucy's dreams had been rather questionable, but in the end had been the right thing to do. "Er, yes. I suppose I have." A secret he intended to take to his grave. Suddenly his curiosity in Zevran's involvement waned. A man has his secrets.

Zevran's smile was grim as he raised his glass in a toast. "Then let us hope it never comes back to haunt you."

"I'll drink to that." Anders raised his glass and drank deeply. "Just how big of an explosion can you make with those bombs of yours?"

"Bigger than any spell you've got, paisano."

And the topic of Morrigan never came up again.

#

Notes: My thanks to the wonderful folks who wrote reviews! I love them and adore you all. My especial thanks to Biff McLaughlin for beta-reading this mess and Zevgirl who reads the snippets I post on G+. And thanks to all of you who have followed this story from the beginning.

I intend to post my epilogue before too long, then return to "We Know". After that, who knows? I might try my hand at an original work.