The Names We're Given

Chapter 14: Bite the Hand

by Dreamer In Silico

(Trigger warning - references to torture, sexual assault)

The Circle Tower

As she came to on the blood and viscera-stained floor of the chamber, Morrigan briefly reflected on how she had learned more about Alistair and the Circle mage than she had ever needed to know in the process of rescuing them. Sten's dream had been a true relief after those two; he had known it was an illusion and was quick enough to abandon it, as she had been.

Alistair's nightmare had been simply pathetic; the old woman's was both pathetic and frustrating. While guilt was an extremely rare emotion for Morrigan to begin with, misplaced guilt was an almost alien concept, and she had been sorely tempted to leave Wynne to her moaning over corpses of people who had never even existed for her to save. But she supposed there was some good to be had from the choice to persevere – the Circle elder had managed to recover their blood mage captive after finally regaining her own wits, and while Morrigan had little enough use for the girl, that was one less weak mind she had to go mucking about in.

As the party picked itself up and prepared to move on, she confirmed an observation she had made in passing earlier, when her path had crossed with Mei's in the raw Fade – the woman seemed subtly calmer than she had been in hours, or even days. There was still a fire behind her movements and in her voice, but it no longer seemed as if she teetered on the edge of self-immolation as she had before; instead she had somehow distanced the rage that had threaded through every word she had spoken to the templars earlier.

Good. The elf was formidable in her fury; of that there was no doubt. But that same volatility would make her a prime target for demons, particularly the more powerful varieties that they were likely to encounter soon, if not immediately.

The other members of their band were varying degrees of worse for wear, ranging from Wynne's poorly-hidden discomfiture to Leliana looking even more zealously purposeful than usual, if such a thing were possible.

"Well," Mei said quietly, looking down at the corpse of a man who clutched at a heavy scroll. "At least he made it this far with the Litany intact."

"Oh no… that poor boy. The sloth demon must have been feeding on him for too long before we could break the prison." Wynne had knelt alongside Niall's body, crestfallen. "So many promising young magi…"

Morrigan did not have patience left to deal with more of this. "As will many others if we do not cease wasting time. If you must wallow in grief, kindly do it after the demons are gone," she snapped.

That earned her a glare from Leliana and Alistair and a very carefully-neutral nod from Mei as the latter collected the scroll, but the group did manage to get back on the move. Finally.

"Wynne, will you take the Litany?" Mei asked quietly as the party began to ascend the stairs toward the top of the tower and the room the elven Warden had previously referred to as the Harrowing Chamber. "I know it's not a difficult incantation to get right, but since you've actually seen it before..."

"Of course, child," the old woman replied, straightening her shoulders and looking marginally less dejected as she carefully accepted the scroll. Well and good; while it was clear the Circle elder was at least reasonably trained in combat magic, Morrigan also rather doubted the woman had the stomach to act without hesitation if they faced the possessed forms of those she had known. It was an appropriate tactical decision on Mei's part.

"All of you," Mei said, pausing on the stairs and turning to address the entire group. "Getting the First Enchanter out alive and intact is our first priority. I'll make sure you know which one is him once we're in there. Wynne, can you manage the Litany and see to his safety at the same time? Jarvia, you should help her as best you can."

The blood mage nodded timidly; the old woman more firmly. "At least to some degree. I will do so."

"Alistair, I doubt I need to tell you this, but draining the mana of anyone who attacks us should be up there on your list." Her eyes were tired, but otherwise inscrutable as they fixed on him.

"Of course." The former templar did not even sound affronted that she pointed it out. Morrigan found it perpetually amusing that he seemed to dislike Mei the least when she simply told him what to do. Perhaps she should make more of a habit of that, rather than engaging with him as she so often did.

"Alright." Mei breathed an almost-inaudible sigh and resettled her baldric. "Let's finish this."

The Warden's purposeful near-calm lasted exactly until they reached the landing at the top of the stairs, where she stopped, stock-still, staring at a young templar trapped in an energy field just ahead.

"Cullen." The name fell from Mei's lips like a stone into deep water, to which the man so addressed looked up at her in dawning horror.

"No! Leave me be; I will not be toyed with in this manner! She is dead!" He backed up the very short distance which his prison allowed, eyes averting in an attempt to ignore the party.

"Mei, do not - "

"Shut. Up," the apostate Warden snarled at Wynne without even turning to look at her, her blue-violet eyes riveted to the templar, who had quieted and now simply watched her, shaking as Mei stalked slowly but inexorably toward him.

"Mei, for the Maker's sake, don't k-"

"I'm not going to kill him, Alistair," she said, again without looking back, her tone plummeting in temperature to a deadly, yet conversational chill. "He doesn't deserve that mercy. Do you, Cullen?"

"You're dead, she's dead, she's dead, she's..." the wretch was muttering.

"Yes. She is dead. I am not, though I wished otherwise after I found her," Mei hissed, stopping in front of his prison and staring down at him without pity.

"I didn't want her hurt!" he cried out, anguished, finally looking up at her.

"Then you shouldn't have lied to Greagoir about what your friends did, now should you?"

"I... I panicked. Thom said - "

"Andraste's staff, you are beyond pathetic," Mei muttered, disgustedly. "What about all those blighted vows you take? I know they don't mean anything to most of you – or at least, not the ones about protecting mages – but I had thought that even though you followed Giselle around like a lovesick puppy after she told you to fuck off, that you at least gave a damn about her, even if you didn't care about your duty enough to stop what they did to me. Do you know how she died, Cullen? Should I tell you?"

"Mei..."

"Wynne, you know exactly what happened, and his part in it. If you do not stop your bleating, then as far as I'm concerned you're no better than him, or Irving, or Greagoir," Mei hissed. Morrigan would have smirked in appreciation for her fellow apostate's word choice, was the situation less... fury-inducing than it was. She had rather large doubts as to whether there was anyone in the Circle worth saving, given what she was piecing together, but if the alternative was allying with the templars, she would hold her peace.

Wynne had in fact, mercifully, stilled her wagging tongue.

"I found her strung up from a tree by the wrists," Mei continued flatly, as the templar groaned and bowed over on the ground. "She had bruising all about her throat, but that wasn't what killed her. Her eyes were gouged out; her tongue cut out. She bled out slowly from two very precise cuts to the big veins in her legs. They tortured her to death because saving Thom from the slap on the wrist he'd have gotten for assaulting a mage was more important than you telling the truth."

She turned away, finally, facing her companions once more, that same eerie, false calm smoothing her features. "I'm sorry for the delay. If we make it out of the Harrowing Chamber alive, we can deal with this idiot on the way out."

"Wait!" Cullen called, looking back up, his eyes sliding over Mei – who was now ignoring him completely – and fixing instead on the one person he likely imagined to be an ally in the group, Alistair, with his templar-insignia shield. "You... you. It's horrific up there; whatever she says, I saw them; they can't be saved. Ser, you have to believe me. Clear the chamber; they're all abominations by now."

To what little credit Morrigan was ever willing to give him, Alistair wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "We'll be the judge of that, I think. You just... just... stay there."

It wasn't a great deal of credit, but she for once refrained from any comment to that effect, given the gravity of the situation.

The encounter that followed was a rather spectacular demonstration of why, exactly, Morrigan did not associate with demons, despite her marked lack of objection to such things on moral grounds.

Demons were volatile, messy, and most importantly, required extensive negotiation, which had never been one of her strong suits. It wasn't as though Morrigan lacked the cleverness to do so, of course, more that it also required a great deal of patience for dealing with other sentients that she did not see any reason to develop, given that the entire remaining scope of the magic available to her required nothing of the sort.

Mei's former associate Uldred had not, evidently, learned that lesson. He had seemed to think that raw power – which he did, in fact, possess in plenty – would be sufficient to keep the demon bound to his will, which was a rather particular symptom of Pride demon influence. It was no great surprise when the demon took over, and that was what they had to fight. Morrigan had adjusted her style subtly, making ample use of her skills that weakened her opponents rather than attacking directly, in most cases, though when the demon that had subsumed Senior Enchanter Uldred summoned minions of its own kind, she made short work of several of those on her own while Mei and her whirling blades continued their deadly dance with their primary foe.

Alistair helped as well, she supposed.

When it was over, Mei stood, chest heaving with exertion, and stared at the First Enchanter everyone was so concerned about.

Morrigan understood her companion's contempt.

"So you're not a demon, right?" the Warden said after a fraught moment, voice flat and eyes expressionless, ignoring Wynne's look of disapproval.

"...I am not," replied the old man bemusedly, as he pushed to his feet.

Mei snorted, glancing down at the corpse of the pride demon that had overwhelmed Uldred, then back up at her former leader. "Well, let's go make sure Greagoir knows that. He, in his infinite wisdom, sent for the Right of Annulment, and stays his hand on purging the Tower only on condition that you inform him the demon infestation is over."

"Child, it is - "

"Would you stop fucking calling me that, all of you?!" Mei hissed, interrupting him. "I don't want to hear your condescending bullshit, First Enchanter. I've seen more of the world in the last two months than you probably ever have, and all the wrong parts of it, besides. I'm a Grey Warden, now, and I came here to invoke the treaty the Wardens struck with the Circle of Magi to defend Thedas from future Blights. We're in one now, if you hadn't noticed. Will you honor it, in exchange for me saving your sorry ass from your watchdog's zealotry?"

The greybeard blinked at the diminutive elf for a long moment, before turning to Wynne with a raised eyebrow. "Well, Wynne? You were called out to assist with the King's army. What do you make of the current state of affairs, and do you support the Warden's claim?"

Wynne's spine straightened visibly – it appeared she had one, after all, if only in the physical sense – as she answered the First Enchanter. "I do, First Enchanter. The darkspawn are the true threat, and we would be remiss if we failed to lend our aid in combatting them. By your leave, I will accompany the Grey Wardens when they depart from Tower, in addition to the other support we will provide."

Wonderful, Morrigan thought sourly. She did not relish the thought of another sanctimonious prig joining their party, and Mei looked similarly disgruntled – though in addition, resigned.

"That leave is granted, Senior Enchanter," the old man said with a grave nod, as the witch rolled her eyes. Perhaps Mei would refuse?

But no. She did not look particularly grateful, but she was nodding. "If you would join us, we will have you," she said stiffly, finishing in a mutter, "We need all the help we can get."

Morrigan was not so sure about that. The old woman had kept her head in the skirmish; it was true, and seemed to be a reasonably competent mage, but however competent, she was a cosseted Tower sheep. How long would she be able to bear living on the road, dealing with Darkspawn ambushes and whatever else wished them dead on any given day?

Mei was not finished, however, her eyes still on the First Enchanter, no warmth in them. "Countering the Blight is going to be an enormous task. That in mind, I'll have your word that you'll protect those of the Circle who are left – including the ones who were with Uldred at the outset. The demons are gone, and everyone here's had a very potent example of why messing with them is a stupid idea."

The blood mage, Jarvia, shot her former comrade a grateful glance, though unsurprisingly, she did not look completely reassured.

The old man had crossed his arms over his chest, though he looked more tired than stern. "You know the chain of command, Mei."

She gave him a hard smile. "Yes, and I also know Greagoir and his flock went running scared when the chaos started. He'll only know who he wants to execute if you tell him, First Enchanter, and you aren't going to. You always act like you can't do anything for the people supposedly under your wing, but you could. You could if you bothered to try. Do it now."

His lips thinned to a single line across his face, but he nodded, and Morrigan smirked. Some children of the Tower clearly had teeth, even if most did not.

She supposed she understood Mei's efforts to give those teeth time to sharpen, that they might better bite their masters' hands.

A/N: No, I really don't like Cullen, why do you ask? _ I dislike him less in DA2 and probably won't hate him in Inquisition, but Mei has *zero* use for him.