A rough, wet scraping feeling runs up the length of the left side of my face. I groan and feel the hard floor beneath my back. Slowly, the feeling in my body comes back. Aching muscles, a sore shoulder, and a sharp, throbbing pain in my side. The rough scraping comes back, but this time it's harder than before. I groan and lift my ponderous right arm up to shoo whatever's touching me away. My arm is barely up when a sharp, tiny bite sinks into my cheek. My eyes flip open at a sedated pace. My vision is obscured by something that probably means I've died. A tiny grey dog is sitting beside me. Her wet nose is shoved near my face while she pants warm air into my eyes.
I'm definitely dead. The dog barks and hops onto my chest when she sees I'm awake. The hound sniffs my face before licking my cheek again. Finally, I lift my armored arm up enough to pet her. I scratch the creature behind the ear, but stop when she growls and shows me her fangs. Little bitch. I'm about to toss the dog off of me when she sinks her fangs into the mail on my arm, then starts tugging. I put my other shaky arm under me and push myself up. The tower is burning. I look around. The Ogre is stepping on the corpse of the tower's guard with Alistair dangling from his hand. And, to the side of them is the fire we're suppose to light to signal Loghain.
The tugging on my wrist stops and I look down. The dog is gone. I had to have been going insane. I try to push myself up, but the most I can do is flip myself onto my hands and knees. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and focus. There's still a growing pool of blood below me. I look down and see my side's still bleeding, just not nearly as bad as it was. A few strands of skin are stretched across the wound, and desperately closing the cut enough that my insides aren't revealed to the naked eye. I turn away from my wound and focus on the pile of sticks that are currently laying in the stone chimney. I need to light those, or else the entire army dies. I put one slick hand in front of me, move my opposite knee forward, and repeat the process with my unmoved opposite limbs.
The slick floor below me makes it a challenge, but I just keep my eyes focused on the twigs. My sense of sound comes back enough to hear a tortured, agonizing scream coming from the Ogre battle. I don't dare look. If Alistair's dead, then I'll constantly owe a dead man my life. A crunch from the battle beside me. Or more like than not we'll all be dead before morning. I watch the twigs crawl closer and closer. A single torch is resting against the chimney. If I can just make it a few more feet. The screaming's stopped. I finally reach the fire. I grab the branch and thrust it into the twigs as a gigantic, meaty fist wraps around me.
When I come to I'm surrounded in a deep, comfortable warmth with my eyes closed. I squeeze my eyes tighter while feeling around. Soft, bearskin blankets and a fluffy bed beneath me. I smirk and curl up on myself. Okay, now I'm dead. I don't believe in a Maker, but I'm not going to argue with whatever divine being stuck me here. Maybe it was an elven god. That makes sense because they'd be proud of me for killing shem. A feminine hand runs up and down my back, caresses my spine. I groan and lean into the touch. I'm definitely dead. The hand runs itself over my closed wound and lightly tickles my ribs.
I don't think I mind being dead all that much. Let those living deal with the blight, I get this. Suddenly, the hand runs itself up to my neck and feels my pulse. Odd, but if it leads to some 'fun' I suppose it's okay. The hand removes itself and the blankets are ripped off. Freezing air rushes to meet me as I flail and snap my eyes open. I'm in a bare, dirty cabin with a woman towering over me. Either I'm alive, or my eternal damnation begins now. The figure leans forward a little into the light and I have a better look at her face. Morrigan. I instantly relax and look down at myself. Naked. I feel my face grow hot as I attempt to yank the blanket from Morrigan's hands. The witch tosses it to the side and claps her hands together.
I cringe at the clap, but manage to fight back the urge to cover myself. Obviously, I'm naked for a reason. Morrigan slides down so she's sitting beside me. I just hope I'm not naked for a certain reason. Morrigan's beautiful, but her mother's a fabled monster who spirits little children away in the middle of the night to eat them. That's not the kind of person you want to get worked up, and going to bed with her daughter might just make her more than a little angry. Thankfully, (or somewhat not so thankfully) Morrigan doesn't seem to have any intention of having sex with me.
She even looks me dead in the eyes and doesn't scoot closer while she talks to me.
"I see your wounds are recovering nicely. How do you feel?". I roll my shoulders a little and tell her the truth.
"A little sore, but nothing too bad. What happened?". Morrigan eyes me and takes a deep breath. I'm about to ask again when she finally tells me.
"Loghain Mac Tir abandoned the battlefield when your signal was lit. The king was killed and most of the Grey Wardens were slaughtered. My mother and I were able to save you and your friend, but no more.". I go silent and touch the side of my body. My wound is closed, but a large ridge of flesh sticks out as a scar. I'm one of the last two wardens in Ferelden. Loghain abandoned us and allowed our order to almost die.
I swear then and there that Loghain Mac Tir shall die by my hand. He's a coward to run from battle and a human to top it off. I'll see his head roll. My anger is burning like a tiny ember, but that doesn't stop the tsunami of sadness. My stomach rolls and my throat tightens. Duncan's dead, the army is destroyed, and the horde will march across the land. The Darkspawn will reach Denerim and kill Shianni, Soris, and my father. Everyone and everything I've ever held dear is going to die or has already done so. I clutch the scar on my side, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.
I'll survive. I'm a strong elf who can kill anything I want to. The horde doesn't matter. I can't stop that. I can find Loghain Mac Tir. I WILL find Loghain Mac Tir. I'll find him and kill him. Then, I'll return home or live with the Dalish. If I'm lucky they'll survive the Blight. If the horde reaches me, I'll kill every Darkspawn I can before being put down. I open my eyes and say a small 'thank you' to Morrigan. I should at least make sure she knows I'm thankful she saved my life.
"Thank you for healing my wounds.". I look over to see Morrigan looking at her feet with a stern look. Then, she looks up at me and tries to write it off.
"I- mother did most of the work. She should be the one to thank.". I idly nod and decide to go find Alistair. He'll probably help me go find Loghain and kill him. I begin to stand and say my farewell to Morrigan.
"I still appreciate your help. Thank you. Now, I need to go get Alistair and see what we're doing.". I'm walking towards the door (honestly not minding the nakedness, just desperate to get out of there) when Morrigan makes a 'hmm' noise. Then, she says something that stops me in my tracks.
"I suppose you can do that. I should have known you'd be domesticated for humans though.". I tighten my grip on my rough scar and begin to shake. I am not domesticated! I'm a free elf who doesn't listen to any shem alive! I flip around and feel my shaking instantly stop. Morrigan's chilly gaze is trapping me. I can't even retaliate before she begins talking again.
"I saw you after you left the wilds. You were cowed even before then, but it got worse when you returned to Ostagar.". I look at my feet, but surprisingly don't feel myself grow angry at Morrigan. I know what she's saying is true. I slaughtered humans in the alienage like they were pigs, but in Ostagar I was too afraid or cautious to tell the shem what I thought of them. I feel a soft hand on my face as Morrigan lifts my head to meet her icy gaze.
"You don't need to hide it anymore. Your mentor is dead and the wardens are gone. You can be yourself.". I close my eyes and whisper a single question.
"Should I?". Morrigan slams my armor/weapons onto me (not questioning how she has those), turns me towards the door, and walks me towards it while telling me her answer.
"Yes. Show everyone the elf you truly are. You were meant to be the main hero at Ostagar. The one to light the fire and kill the Ogre. Alistair stole that from you by allowing you to take the dagger meant for him.". Was I meant to be the hero? It doesn't feel like it, but Morrigan thinks so. Who am I to question a witch? I was suppose to be the hero to slay the beast and light the fire. Alistair cheated me out of it.
As Morrigan pushes me outside I try to steel myself. I need to return to who I am. I need to be the elf my mother taught me to be. Humans deserve the pain and misery I bring them. I will be the elf I want to be. Damn the consequences. Alistair and Flemeth are waiting for me outside. I walk over to the two. Alistair turns towards me and is the first to speak.
"You're alive! I-". I glare and snarl like a wild animal at him. Alistair cringes and looks at me with an almost hurt expression. He deserves it. I am who I am. I'm not going to change. I turn towards Flemeth and the woman speaks.
"So, you've returned. Tell me, what do you plan to do with your second chance at life?". I could tell them my real plan, but I decide to omit some of the details. I don't want to give Alistair enough details to follow me when I ultimately leave him. I hadn't planned on dumping him so soon, but that was when I was a Grey Warden. Morrigain was right, I need to be the woman I was and not the elven pet Duncan made me out to be. My chest aches at the thought of Duncan, but I ignore it and get on with my story.
"I plan to leave the wilds before the Darkspawn are surrounding us.". Alistair nods and seems to agree with me.
"We need to leave, but what then? We need to find a way to stop the Blight. Any ideas on that?". I'm about to snarl at Alistair to 'go away because you're on our own'. Then, I turn and see Flemeth's burning gaze. The woman pulls some scrolls from her robes and holds them out to me. I need to do what she says, or else I might piss her off. Besides, she might have a good idea. I take the scrolls and look at them. They're the treaties I recovered earlier. I look into Flemeth's burning eyes and listen to what she wants me to do.
"Take these treaties. Go and build the army the Wardens need. Slay the Archdemon, or else your entire family will die when they march upon Denerim.". I mindlessly nod and secretly plan to dump these treaties and run away as soon as I can. Flemeth says one final thing that might ruin my plan.
"You'll be taking my daughter with you.". Morrigan apparently appeared at my side while we were talking, but now I notice her as she talks.
"What?!". I turn and eye the beautiful woman. If she goes with me, then she'll be away from her mother.
"I think that's a fine idea.". Morrigan begins to argue, but a glare from Flemeth silences her. Instead, Morrigan turns to me.
"Would you like me to help you, or simply be your silent guide?". I want to make a good impression on her, so I remain nice.
"I'd prefer you speak your mind.". Morrigan glares at Flemeth as the older woman laughs. Then, the younger woman huffs and points northward.
"I'd suggest we head to Lothering to regroup and get supplies.". I smile and nod at Morrigan, glare when Alistair tries to speak, and give my thanks to Flemeth. And just like that we're off. My gut is turning, but my mind is sharp. I'm not running away from this. Yet.