This chapter I think is weak and boring, but I really wanted to get this done. After this chapter, the story will take on a more original style while staying within the canon storyline. Meaning, the dialogue isn't going to be straight from the game and there will be more scenes added that aren't in the game, all those fun stuff. Also, I won't be updating this story as religiously as my other for now...but that always tends to change as soon as I say something, but I just want to let you readers know this is not a dead story! Enjoy, and review, I'd love to hear what you readers think.
o4. The Aftermath
Vesper had never in her life seen her father defeated. The young Cousland and her mother had just enough time to reach the kitchen before the bulk of Howe's men would storm through the gates, and when they had, they were shocked to find not even her dearest Nan was shown mercy. Through the larder was the servant's exit out of the castle, and at this point, they're only hope. Her mother was the first to burst into the larder, frantically looking for her husband, until she spotted him in a pool of his own vibrant blood by the exit. Vesper saw his fatal wound immediately, what appeared to be the run-through of a longsword in his abdomen. He gasped and heaved, in relief, but neither of the women could tell. Her mother and father were talking, but she couldn't hear them, couldn't understand the exchange of words. Vesper looked at her hands, soaked in the rogue blood of her father, dying. She turned to her mother and fell back from where she was knelt at her father's side. Her mother laid dead, in now her own puddle of blood, an arrow protruding from the gushing vein in her neck. A scream fell short in her throat, as panic was boiling into rage. But before her hand could even reach a dagger, the young Cousland looked at the doorway and met the cold steel of a blade to her neck.
"No!" Vesper shot up, a little too quickly, and had to wait momentarily for her eyes to adjust. Sweat beaded across her bare skin, and bare she very much was. The surprised young Warden noticed the clean bandages around her torso, and even felt them around her neck; she saw that she was dressed in nothing but her breast-band and a pair of lady's trousers. At some point her armor had been removed, but when? And most importantly: why? Vesper last remembered darkspawn, dozens of them; Alistair finally getting to fight in this battle. Other than that, her memories were very vague at the moment.
As the idea of a possible ogre encounter touched her thoughts, Vesper's head jerked to the loud thumping of what was a book being placed back on the shelf heavily. A raven haired, fair skin woman glanced through the ebony feathers on her shoulder and directly at her; with unusual yellow eyes. The other woman turned herself to face the Warden, crossing her arms indifferently and revealing she was rather scantily clad. "Well, well, well..." the woman spoke, in a sarcastic nonchalant sort of way, "'tis time you woke." Vesper was still trying to fathom where she was as the stranger padded closer to the bed she had been apparently resting in. "Do not worry, you are safe in our hut- for now," the dark haired woman continued, frowning when she noticed that Vesper was trying to avoid her gaze. A silence lingered between the two women for a moment. "You are much more quieter than the elf your friend brought with him before-" and with that said, Vesper remembered what had happened at the top floor of the tower. She threw herself from the bed and dashed towards the door, pass the cross stranger. "But at least she had manners."
The Warden flung open the rickety door and felt the early afternoon heat against her skin when she stepped out into the open, a weedy clearing at the shore of a shallow lake within what she assumed to be the Korcari Wilds. She fell into the doorframe to catch her breath, just as a greying old woman with the same eerily yellow eyes spotted her with a toothy smirk and spoke, although Vesper couldn't hear her over the Wild's natural sounds. And with a breath of fresh air, she saw him angle his body towards her in relief, surprise. Vesper had never been so alleviated as she stumbled towards Alistair, whom was mostly unharmed from what she could see, save for a few fresh bandages on his arm, he too had been dressed down into his trousers and tunic. She felt the wet grass between her toes as she stepped to him as he spoke, "You...you're alive."
"I thought you were dead-" he added, just as the young Cousland tucked her head against his chest and wrapped her wounded arms around his muscular waist, "for...sure." Vesper felt the surprise leap in his heartbeat, but didn't care, with all she had lost in a matter of days, seeing Alistair almost made her cry. She could feel his hesitation to hold her back, but eventually he did, squeezing her into his broad and towering figure; he too was just as relieved not to have lost anyone else as well. "Thank the Maker you're not," he whispered to her happily.
Vesper gently freed herself from Alistair's bear hug and feebly smiled, "Did you get injured badly?" Her voice was near being a whisper as she reached for her fellow Warden's arm and stroked gently where the bandages had been wrapped. She watched him shake his head, and the novice Warden noticed a small scratch along his cheek. "I remember reaching the top of the tower-" Vesper muttered, furrowing her brows as she desperately tried to remember, "We fought an ogre and then I went to light the beacon..."
"We were overwhelmed by darkspawn," Alistair finished for her, a sorrow filled look in his eye, "You took a few arrows in the neck, shoulder- you had been bleeding so much." With what he said, Vesper consciously touched her neck where it had been bandaged and felt the slight pulse of a sore spot. "One got me in the arm..." just the same, Alistair rubbed his dressed arm soothingly. "This doesn't seem real," mumbled the Grey Warden, turning back to look over the cattails in the water as he shook his head, "if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower."
"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad." Vesper glanced at the old woman, dressed in ragged robes of earthly tones and watching her through suspicious beady eyes with dark aging circles around them, her hair was grey and mostly wild, and the young Cousland couldn't help but identify her with old Chasind legends her father use to tell her. She was curious how Alistair was less suspicious with this aging woman and whomever this 'Morrigan' was, he must have had met them on some other occasion, but none the less, Vesper was weary of folks that lived in the Korcari Wilds. They were dangerous, and that was why Duncan had urged them so quickly through them.
Then it hit her, "Wait...what happened to the army? To the King?" Alistair avoided her frantic gaze and hung his head, while a familiar whimper came from her feet, where Dog had been licking her leg happily.
"The man who was suppose to respond to your signal quit the field," the young Warden turned to see the raven haired dame propped against the hut's entrance, her arms still crossed tightly at her chest, and an almost regretful expression, "the darkspawn won your battle." Vesper's eyes grew wide with the news. So much confidence and morale by the King, now stamped out by General Loghain, whom had left them to die. It painfully reminded her of the raid on her home, and she found her fingers curling into fists. "Those he abandoned were massacred."
Alistair shook his head irritated by the news, "The King had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?" Vesper was just bemused in frustration. They had reached the beacon, nearly sacrificing themselves to make sure it had been lit for Loghain's men to see; a plan the General had devised himself. Which could only mean Loghain had had this planned all along, to leave them all to suffer at the hands of the darkspawn horde. The young Warden fingered the dressed wound on her side. This would be the second time she had been betrayed by a trusted, and respected man.
The old woman began to speak again and Vesper looked up as she caught the last of her words, "...Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature." Almost knowingly, the gray haired woman was looking at the young Cousland as she spoke, an eerie grim smile on her dried lips as their eyes met. "Perhaps he believed the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver," she looked back to Alistair, which relieved Vesper. "Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat."
She saw as the junior Warden's face paled and his jaw hardened, "The archdemon." Something about the term sent a spidery chill up Vesper's spine, and even the raven-haired girl, whom she assumed to be Morrigan, looked discontent. Neither Duncan nor Alistair even mentioned this 'archdemon' and she knew by the look on his face that Alistair was just as unnerved as she was. However, before she could even ask, Morrigan's mother was speaking again; beginning to explain. 'An archdemon is an Old God awakened and tainted by darkspawn' was part of what she said, before bluntly reminded them not to ignore history. It became obvious that whether they had won the battle at Ostagar or not, this 'archdemon' would still eventually need to be dealt with. Old God or not, Vesper couldn't allow herself to cower now.
"Then we need to find this archdemon," Vesper voiced, determined to end this Blight and avenge all those lost at Ostagar. Alistair glanced at her unsure, for good reason; they had lost the majority of Ferelden's army at Ostagar and without Loghain's support, defeating the Blight just the two of them was impossible.
The old woman smirked at Vesper and tilted her head, "Such determination. How...intriguing."
"Two lone Grey Wardens against hordes of Darkspawn..." Morrigan coed, "you're better off in the Wilds."
She was right. Two people couldn't fight off a horde and hunt down the archdemon, and possibly fend of any resistance from the Teyrn, Loghain. Vesper thought hard. In all the stories her father shared of the legendary Wardens and their griffons, the Grey Wardens had been praised and held in high esteem by the people; surely they would offer their support. "Surely there are other allies we can call on," she thought aloud.
Alistair immediately reacted, sharing a telling look with the other women, "Of course! The Treaties!" The junior Warden paced again, this time calling off those obliged to aid them during a Blight: dwarves, elves, and magi. Finally there appeared to be some hope in smiting the Blight, and they wouldn't have to be doing it alone.
"...this sounds like an army to me," the old woman commented, crossing her arms as the other strange woman had.
Vesper saw Alistair beam at her, "So can we do this? Build an army?" The way he looked at her, asking for permission, was a surprise; almost like he was handing her the leadership. She couldn't blame him really, the pressure of having to now seek their allies to defeat the Blight all the while taking command of an ever growing army would be overwhelming. The young Lady Cousland nodded, not knowing if she accepting becoming the leader or agreeing to his idea. Either way, Alistair gave her a charming confident smile.
"So you are set then?" the old lady inquired, as if knowing all along, "Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Vesper stole away a look at Alistair, as he did the same, and together the two came to understand a silent oath. Then together they nodded in answer to the old woman, who smiled pleasingly. "Good," she responded, "Now before you go...there is yet one more thing I can offer you." Her grey hair fanned dryly as she turned her head and towards the woman still standing by the hut, a very unpleasant look on her face as she met the old woman's gaze. "The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl," she called to the raven-haired stranger, "and you will be joining them."
Arguing ensued as the scantly-clad Morrigan marched into the clearing, while both Vesper and Alistair were unsure how to receive the old woman's decision. Alistair shortly interrupted their bantering with an opposing opinion, "Not to...look a gift horse in the mouth, won't this add to our problems?" The novice Warden was unsure what her companion meant until he mentioned that Morrigan was an apostate. Vesper had never known a mage, and she never really had any expectations; but seeing Morrigan now and her mother, who was obviously an apostate herself, her opinion about magi never changed. They were human, just as the rest of them were. The old lady quickly made Alistair regret what he said by reminding him of her rescuing them. "Point taken," he muttered, shyly turning to Vesper.
"Mother...this is not how I wanted this," Morrigan protested, "I am not even ready..."
"You must be ready," the old woman interrupted. "Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn," she gestured with her hand at Vesper and Alistair, "they need you Morrigan. Without you, they were surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I." Despite the lack of confidence in the Wardens the grey woman had, she was completely right. Even though there were allies to be found, finding them, just the two of them, was a dangerous task. The more persons in their party, the more chance they had to reaching these other armies. Morrigan was still reluctant, but finally understood with a nod. With her daughter's acceptance, the old woman turned back to the Wardens, "And you Wardens, do you understand?" There was a slight pause before she continued, "I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you must succeed."
"Yes," Vesper answered for the both of them, "Morrigan won't come to harm with us."
Morrigan remained disapproving of her mother's decision and twirled on her heel to make her way back to the hut, "Allow me to get my things, if you please." Her voice carried across the wind, which suddenly reminded Vesper she was still wearing nothing but her brassiere and a pair of tight fitting trousers.
"I think I'll do the same," she said nervously to Alistair, who appeared to just notice himself and was trying to keep his eyes preoccupied somewhere else. Vesper scurried off before he could remind her how woman she was again and followed Morrigan into the hut, where the dark-haired dame was already fastly packing.
Vesper stepped towards her armor, saddened to find they had been cracked and dented, and now were in a very useless condition. She sighed, but was relieved to find her father's weaponry still intact and propped against the wall. "Mother had to pry you from your armor to heal your wounds, they'll be of no use to you now," came the dark sultry voice of her new companion, "Here, you can wear these until we reach the closest town. I'll lead us away from the horde, so you shouldn't worry about possible conflict." Vesper stood up from where she had knelt at her father's things and proceeded to overlook what Morrigan was sharing with her: an apparently unused off-white blouse, a vest dyed in a deep blue, and a pair of new trousers.
"Thank you Morrigan, for this," she said, "and for taking care of my wounds." The apostate tried to remain unfazed, but still managed to give away her surprise. Vesper offered a friendly smile and turned to re-dress herself, thankful to find her boots were still wearable and her leather gauntlets had been spared from Morrigan's Mother's haste to aid her.
"I- Mother did most of the work," Morrigan answered over her shoulder, unable to accept the thanks, "I am no healer."
Vesper was happy to have everything fit comfortably as she dressed, but forgetting her wounds, she hissed when she pulled her scarf tightly about her waist again. "Were my injuries severe?" the young Warden asked curiously, realizing all she had to carry with her was her weapons now.
"Yes, but I expect you shall be fine." Vesper moved to see that Morrigan was done packing a small black pack and was now reaching for her staff propped against the bookshelf; a long uneven branch from the Wilds, that had obviously been cleaned of unnecessary twigs and had curiously twisted at the end where Morrigan had dressed it in bird feathers. Although admiring her craftsmanship, she still looked upset about having to leave. "The darkspawn did nothing mother could not heal," she finished as she pulled open the door, surprisingly waiting for Vesper to join her out the hut. Vesper strapped her shield about her back, and carried her sword out, knowing Dog would be able to carry it for her.
She followed beside their third party, looking up to see Alistair trying to make conversation with Dog, whom still hadn't taken a liking to the Warden. "What about Alistair, will he be alright?" Vesper quizzed, but was far too distracted by her fellow Warden to hear Morrigan's rude comment. And almost on cue, the endearing Warden tipped his head up from Dog and smiled, a most handsome smile that had Vesper smiling back. They had hardly known each other and the only few interactions they had were either awkward, or related to the Blight. Yet, Vesper was oddly at ease knowing he'd be at her side and she at his. He left Dog by the bank of the pond, scratching her war hound's ears before he wandered across the dusty clearing to see her. Morrigan had already stepped aside to share goodbyes with her mother, which left the two Wardens alone.
"How are you feeling?" he was searching her face for marks, and she felt his eyes linger about the scar on her left eyebrow and the more recent on her lip. She too looked for more injuries on his person, glad to see he hadn't suffered as severely as she had. Unlike Vesper, his armor had not been damaged when Morrigan's mother tended to their wounds and was still splashed in blood from the fighting.
"Better, I suppose," she answered softly, "I appreciate your concern." Vesper held her sword against her chest, the sharp edges withheld in the silvery scabbard, the symbol of Highever etched in green Malachite into the surface. Alistair noticed this, remembering the hefty amount of bandages that were placed around her chest and where it was peeking out from her collar about her neck.
He reached for her scabbard and walked around to unstrap her shield, a larger version of the Malachite symbol addressed there too. Vesper watched him curiously, waiting as Alistair struggled to remove his pack as it snagged on his own shield. "Here-" he grunted as it flung free, "I'll carry your sword and shield, and you can carry our packs." The young Warden was bound to argue with him, but her superior shook his head just as her lips parted, "Just until we set-up camp and you get a good night of sleep. I wouldn't want your wounds to open."
"Very well," Vesper responded. Free of the heavy items, she felt the strain on her injuries go away and realized it was probably best she didn't carry much. So she adjusted their packs, which were close to weighing nothing, since neither of them had packed for a journey across Ferelden; and waited by Alistair as Morrigan finished conversing with her mother.
Soon they were joined by their third party member, still unhappy with her mother's decision as she sighed to them, "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens." Morrigan leaned on her unique staff, while planting a firm hand on her bare hip, "I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far, and you will find much you need there." With her sense of direction gone, Vesper was unsure what village she spoke or even where the direction north was. Thankfully Morrigan did.
"Then that is where we will go," Vesper answered the waiting apostate, who was surprised to see her suggestion was taken.
Morrigan's pallid purple lips curled into a smirk, "This way then." She passed through the Grey Wardens, beginning down the path that lead away from the clearing and back into the thick Wilds. Alistair obviously still didn't like the idea of bringing the witch along, but Vesper touched his arm and smiled. Sighing in defeat, he followed after the illegal mage and his presence was soon replaced by Dog, whom nudged and licked her boot. The novice Warden knelt down to scratch his ears and flatten the tuff of hair on top of his head. He still whimpered and now began to lick her palm, something he usually did when he was worried or scared.
"Come on Dog," she whispered to him, and together they set off on the beginning of everything.