disclaimer type=standard
Anything you recognize is Bioware's. I dare say anything else belongs to them too.
/disclaimer
o_ooo000ooo_o
Kathryn paused her narration, and began taking deep, slow breaths. "Excuse me," she said, pulling her hand out of Leliana's and rising from the upholstered seat. She turned her back on her audience and moved over to a tapestry that dominated one wall. She stared studiously at the representation of the Divine Maker elevating his chosen bride to his side, keeping her face firmly directed away from her audience.
Leliana looked at her friend's back with sympathy. "Take your time," she said in her melodic voice.
Kathryn did not respond directly. "Curious, is it not?" she said, tilting her head to one side as she regarded the godly figure.
"Is it?" Cassandra snapped. Despite the lack of affect her tone had on the Warden, she had the grace to look mildly abashed at the glare Leliana sent her.
"Yes. It is curious that He hasn't yet given up on us."
"He loves us," Leliana insisted. "We must strive to be worthy of that love."
Gaylen ducked his head, uncomfortable with the level of piety. He braved another small glass of the ceremonial wine, despite the hazy sense of unease he felt. He wondered vaguely if by drinking it he was committing heresy.
The elf sighed, and shook her head. "Cassandra asked me earlier if I was a true Andrastean. I told her that I witnessed a miracle." She turned to Leliana. "Well, you and I both did. But that wasn't the whole truth. My reasons are a lot more personal than that."
o_ooo000ooo_o
I felt a warmth flood me. I cracked my eyelids open over rough, sandy eyeballs. I looked around at the sea of familiar, but worried faces. A little more looking revealed that I was in bed, and that some of my friends looked as though they'd just arrived from a long journey. Nathaniel, Velanna, Pickering and Connor all looked travel-stained and dusty. Drake even had some twigs in his hair.
"Um, what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice a damaged, gravelly mess. "Where is here, for that matter?"
"You're all right!" Jowan blurted, surging forward to grab me in a tight hug. Several people around my bed cheered. From out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sigrun embrace Velanna.
"Oof," I wheezed. "Can't breathe!"
"Sorry," he immediately apologised, drawing back. He was immediately replaced by an enormous canine head worming its way close. Thunder snuffled and whined and gave me tiny licks as I lifted my arm around his neck.
"Hey boy, I missed you. Are you all right?" I asked, running a hand down his spine. My questing fingers found a knot of scar tissue. I noted that even in his excitement, he wasn't wagging his tail.
He whuffed and wriggled a lot, too excited to give me a straight out bark.
"Quiet!" A voice called over the din. Silence descended. "Thank you," Daylen continued. "Now, could you all please leave so I can examine my patient?"
I looked at him oddly. Patient? Since when had I been his patient?
Nate nodded. "Daylen is right, everybody out." He placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'll be in once he's done to talk. A lot has happened."
I nodded and watched as everyone filed out the door while giving me a wave or a word of encouragement. Avernus hung back.
"Commander, would you be so kind as to visit me in my workshop when you feel capable? There is an issue I need to discuss with you in private. It is potentially important, but not urgent."
"Of course," I agreed.
He left. Daylen gave a shudder. "Creepy old goat. Right, are you able to sit up? Do you feel dizzy?"
I rose from the bed without difficulty, though I did feel a bit stiff and weak. I raised my arms and stretched. It felt good to move about.
Daylen cast a couple of spells. He frowned at the results. "Can you open your mouth? Your vocal chords appear to be damaged."
I complied, and I saw the surprise as it flooded his face. "I say! Your throat is deeply scarred. What on Thedas happened?"
I closed my mouth. "Do you know about my other form?" I asked cautiously.
He nodded. "Your draconian form? Yes. Well, I know of it. I'm told it's quite impressive. Oghren insisted that you were half again as large as a High Dragon."
I nodded. "Well, dragon fire happened."
He blinked. "What?"
With a sigh, I explained. "Dragons are inherently magical. I discovered that while breathing fire; it draws on your mana. I was all but exhausted when I first tried it, and I breathed fire without the magical strength to support it. I turned back into an elf with fire still coming out."
He winced. "Ouch. Well, I'm sorry to say that there's not much I can do. Even if we were to recreate the injury I'm not sure I could heal it correctly."
"I'll pass then. I was never a singer anyway."
He gave me a small smile. "Yes, I seem to recall avoiding you in the Circle because your voice set my teeth on edge."
"Really? I thought it was because you hated Jowan."
His face darkened. "That too. He's done things that, well, he should tell you. Now, about your physical health; I'd say don't overdo it, but I daresay you'd just ignore me. How do you feel?"
"I feel pretty good; really hungry, but good."
He nodded. "I'll have some food sent up." At my expression, he hurriedly clarified. "Not broth, some proper stew!"
I nodded and started doing some of the stretches and exercises Zevran taught me. Daylen appeared to want to object, but closed his mouth and simply observed. He did start to look a bit red-faced though.
I glanced down. "Oh. Let me change out of my nightshirt."
"Please," he squeaked. He coughed and swallowed. "Please," he repeated in his more usual tenor.
I moved behind the screen and selected a robe from the wardrobe sitting against one wall. I shrugged into it, noting that I appeared to have lost some weight. I didn't really have a lot of that to begin with. My ribs were prominent under the skin on my chest.
"That's better," I said, feeling the enchantments of the material enhance my magic. It was like a warm blanket under my clothes.
"Excellent. I can't find anything physically wrong with you, and you appear to have full mental faculties. I hadn't planned on testing your magic today, but you appear to be quite healed." He stuck his head out the door and made a quick request. Someone outside handed him a familiar staff. He closed the door and proffered the weapon. "Your staff, I believe."
I swallowed. I was tentative as I reached out to touch Spellfury's wood, and the sensation at that first contact was electric.
It was like coming home. Comforting power surged through me, like a missing piece returned.
Daylen was oblivious. He had stepped over to the window and missed my silent gasp. He touched the glowing magical barrier across the window as I regained my center. After a second, the glowing wall faded from existence. Instantly, the sounds and brisk air from outside filtered into the room. "Can you see down there in the courtyard below? We've set up some targets for Warden mages to use for their spells."
I stuck my head out the window. We were obviously in Avernus' Tower, but in one of the lower levels. The window faced away from the rest of the complex, giving me an uninterrupted view of the wilderness. Beneath us there was a massive, hard-stone paved courtyard. Scattered around it were massive, rounded cones of solid granite that had been recently painted. That paint, while still vivid in places, had been discoloured by soot, scorched by flame and lightning, and chipped away. At regular intervals around the area, stone bunkers and platforms had been dug and erected.
"What a great idea," I said with a grin. "An outdoor magical target range."
Daylen nodded. In a proud voice, he said, "Dagna designed it, and convinced Glavonak to build it. There are two smaller ones on the other side of the Keep that any mage can use, but this one is fenced off from prying, non-Warden eyes. Now, if you would, please cast a few spells down into the yard. Start small, and stop of you feel your mana weaken."
I raised my staff in one hand and flicked the fingers on the other in preparation. With as much delicacy as possible, I set glittering butterflies dancing around the courtyard. I then lit the area with bright, magical lights, creating shadows even in the bright sunshine. I ran through my repertoire of cantrips before moving onto glyphs, then hexes, then curses and finally raw, elemental power.
The courtyard below was wide enough that you could drop a fireball on one side and a blizzard on the other without them touching. I gleefully bombarded the entire paved area with flame, ice and storms. Some witnesses wearing Grey Warden colours gathered to watch the display. First they stood on the viewing platforms, but they migrated quickly to the protected bunkers.
Releasing my magic was glorious. The noise, the heat, the shockwaves, the cold; it all sang to my heart. I finished off with the three-spell combination that drew hard on my mana but crammed the courtyard area with a cone of pure devastation. As draining as it was, it felt good to cast again.
I finished by blowing on my fingers as I'd seen Anders do. I gave Daylen a grin and said, "That was fun."
He stood there open-mouthed for a while. "I don't... I've never... I mean, that was... wow."
I shrugged modestly.
He shook his head and gathered his wits. He coughed once and said, "Well, everything seems to be in order. I take it there was no measurable loss of power? Not having seen you in action, I have no way of comparing. I've never seen anything like it. That was incredible."
"Thank you. And no, nothing seems to be missing or damaged. I feel a bit weak, but with a bit of practice I'm sure I'll be back to full power in no time."
His mouth worked silently for a couple of heartbeats. "That wasn't your full..." He blinked, shook his head and coughed yet again. "Never mind. I'll get the others."
"All of them?" I said, wondering how comfortable it would be in the relatively small room with so many people. It was bad enough for the few minutes when I woke up.
"Er, a few at a time then. Yes, that's probably prudent," he conceded. He opened the door and stuck his head out. After a moment's consultation, Nate, Jowan and Oghren came in and firmly closed the door behind them.
Nate had taken the opportunity to clean himself up; he'd combed his hair and his hands, forearms, face and neck had been scrubbed with soap and hot water. His leathers were still dusty, but he was much more presentable.
Oghren and Jowan did not look as though they'd been travelling, so they'd not done much except have a celebratory drink.
Nate began briefing me on all the events that had happened since my abduction.
Connor and Pickering had struggled to carry Thunder and hide from the templars tracking them. The first group that reached them were dispatched only due to their complete surprise at Connor's presence and abilities. Still, the lad had been hit with a Holy Smite before Pickering gutted the last templar, leaving my bodyguard with two bodies to carry. The noise of the fight attracted more templar attention.
Rescue had come from an exceedingly unexpected source; the ex-kitchenhand Benjamin.
The elf had arrived back at the Vigil a couple of days before. He, Seranni, Falon'fen and Hape hauled their massive load of harvested dragonbone, including the skull that would be divided up and shaped into Hape's bed. Ben had been spotted and recognised by the Crows, who called him out as one of them. Rather than examine the situation calmly, Garevel had immediately demanded that Ben be taken dead or alive.
I'd shaken my head at that. The post of Guard Captain was definitely over Garevel's head.
It turned out that Ben was the messenger Ignacio had sent to warn me of Tavish's contract. He had arrived in the middle of a hectic period, and found menial work in the kitchens while he waited for me to return from my travels around Amaranthine. He had been given no chance to speak with me alone before the traitorous Bann and her cohorts had attacked.
After that he felt that outing himself as a Crow was not a particularly bright idea.
He stayed a while longer, digging for any evidence that there were other parties involved who would attack me again. Having found that there were no further assassination attempts likely, he decided to leave to report back to Ignacio when the darkspawn attacked the Vigil. Fate intervened, and I ended up with a Crow-trained Warden without knowing about it.
No wonder he was so proficient with his daggers.
The Wardens were a nicer home than the Crows. But with his past suddenly revealed in a way that made those in power suspicious, Ben had concluded that running back to the Crows would only delay the inevitable, and that I was his best bet for sorting out the mess. He headed west, with a couple of Wardens and Garevel's men hot on his trail.
As Seranni was one of his trackers, he didn't dick about hiding his spore; he moved as swiftly as possible, sacrificing food and rest for distance. Traveling late into the night to try and put more miles between him and his pursuers, he came across a bunch of templars attacking a lone traveler with a familiar dog. The templars were unaccustomed to fighting in darkness, finding themselves at a disadvantage against an elf assassin with excellent night vision.
Pickering had been wounded in that skirmish, and it took the remainder of my healing potions to get him and Connor on their feet. The pair carried Thunder and assisted Connor towards Soldier's Peak, aided by Seranni after she caught up to them. There was a brief, tense moment before she was convinced that Ben meant no harm.
News of my abduction threatened to split my Wardens apart. One faction, headed by Oghren, favoured a martial response; namely, putting all templars in the country to the sword. Another faction, led by Jowan and Velanna, wanted to lay waste to every templar by magic. A smaller group wanted to use their newly trained skills to assassinate each one.
Nate however, kept his head and figuratively sent them to their rooms without supper to calm down. He sent Seranni and Ben to track the templars who took me as best as they could before he and Pickering raced off to Denerim. He knew that information was the most important thing, and that the Crown needed to know of the templar involvement in my kidnapping. But, events had progressed. By the time Nate reached Denerim, Ferelden was already preparing for war.
Messengers had raced across the country with news that Chevaliers were massing on the other side of the Frostbacks. The army was once more being mustered. Ferelden was once more moving to a war footing, only this time the underlying strength was gone. The country still hadn't recovered from the Blight, and a year or so of relative peace was hardly enough to rebuild. The treasury was very lean.
While Alistair and Anora were fully willing to believe the templars had abducted me, there was little they could do about it. The new Grand Cleric of Ferelden, though formally appointed by Divine decree, had not yet arrived to take up her position. Thus, she could not be questioned. The remaining Revered Mothers and other priests in the Cathedral were all in a state of limbo, merely going through the bureaucratic motions and waiting for the new leadership team to arrive and no doubt screw things up royally.
Realising that there was little he could accomplish in Denerim while the Crown's attention was firmly on the western border, he made a suggestion to Eamon, which was positively received. Nate returned to Soldier's Peak with every enlisted mage, both apostate and Circle-raised, within a few days march of Denerim. The assembled motley crew were given a crash course in practical battle magic and working as part of a group.
The next few weeks were frenetic, to say the least. My disappearance caused morale to drop, and it was only Nate's rank in the Wardens plus his bloodline that held the various factions in the arling together. Ben and Seranni returned with news that my trail headed south, but were unable to follow after it joined the main highway.
Orlesian demands for Ferelden's surrender and submission to the authority of the Empress came regularly, coupled with Divine orders that the Circle's reformations be abandoned. At first, the demands were not backed by military actions, which baffled Alistair and his generals.
Eventually, the safe sailing season started, and troop ships landed along on Ferelden's northern shores. Both Highever and Amaranthine were targeted.
Having been promoted to Commander of Highever's forces, Francois was in town to coordinate his troops when the enemy ships arrived. He led the brief defence, which in essence began and ended with Mac and a pair of his friends, fresh from their tutoring at Soldier's Peak, setting fire to the ships before they reached the docks. Few Orlesian troops survived, though several local merchant vessels were damaged by fire too. Fergus happily paid for the repairs, and began negotiations with the Circle to fund and establish a smaller, satellite Circle in Highever specifically for defense.
Amaranthine fared even better. Velanna had been in town at the time, seemingly set on establishing annuities for the grandchildren of every local baker. She had been purchasing entire stores of sweet cakes and sugary treats when the harbourmaster spotted the hostile ships and raised the alarm. Having her sugar addiction interrupted by aggressive troop ships put her in one of her moods, and she proved to be almost as good with water magic as she was with nature. After turning three ships into driftwood and almost two hundred troops into fishfood, she went back into the city to satisfy her sugar craving.
Her blasé attitude meant that was unlikely any Amaranthine local would be raising a hand to a Dalish woman any time soon.
But despite their failure at the port cities, Orlesian troops did make landfall along the coast lands. There were a few skirmishes, and it was a massive drain on resources that were desperately needed elsewhere. But the situation would have been so much worse if not for the recent training given my Wardens by the Crows. Orlesian officers perished at night, surrounded by entire companies of soldiers.
To Nate's profound discomfort, Connor proved the most successful at these nightly camp infiltrations. He'd been ordered to remain safely at the Peak, but the lad refused point blank, pointing out that Nate had no authority over him. He would go with a team, assume his mouse form, scurry through the camp, poison the commanding officers, and scuttle out again. As a bonus, he destroyed written orders whenever he could, making it all but impossible for any junior officer or sergeant to take control.
Far from being a devastating force, once deprived of leadership the companies soon lost military discipline and disbanded. The ex-soldiers turned to banditry, downgrading from a debilitating problem to a blasted menace. Mercantile traffic was forced to latch onto army units as they marched through the country, slowing trade. For the first time in a generation, farms were being stripped of food and the owners killed by Orlesians. But with the expanded Warden roster and training regimen, quite a few of the new bandits ended up dangling from ropes all over the arling.
As the months drew on, tension remained high. There were a few tentative incursions on the western border, but no real advances by the Orlesians. The stalemate slowly bled Ferelden of strength, but nothing happened on the main front.
Reported sightings of a massive dragon in the Wilds filtered north. It was discounted at first, Ceorlic not being the considered the most patriotic of nobles. But as time went on with no advances by the Orlesians, Nate took his resident archdemon-slayer, his dragon-expert and said expert's pet dragon, and headed south.
They followed the exaggerated sightings and stories as best they could. But the real clue to finding me was the trail of dismembered and decomposing corpses and scattered bits of armour. Ostagar itself was filled with burned armoured figures. They had no chance to really examine it before a monster half as large again as a High Dragon spotted them and swooped.
Swooping was bad.
Oghren recognised my form, having the sort of intimate knowledge of archdemons that comes from being inside their mouth. Where Oghren and Nate both had the presence of mind to get out of the way of my initial swoop, Jowan was shocked into immobility. It was only his pet dragon – named Lily – that prevented him from becoming ash.
With a mind blank with fear, he reacted on reflex, and began trilling a lullaby tune that Daylen had discovered would soothe the dragonlings in the Keep. Against all reasonable expectations, it worked.
Once I was back in elf form and forcibly rendered comatose, they fossicked through the rest of the remains looking for the reason there were so many dead templars littering the place. The command tent had been destroyed, but a few chests survived the fire.
One warded container held my phylactery. Despite the heavy guilt he felt, Jowan used it and its power to keep me under control on the long trip back. With my sanity in question, it would only take one mistake and I could have escaped them at best, slaughtered them at worst.
As distasteful as it was, I fully understood. I certainly didn't blame him. Of all the possible uses for my blood, nefarious and constructive both, preventing me from harming my friends was one I was happily on board with.
The nightmare trip to Soldier's Peak ended, but that simply began a new nightmare. Keeping a powerful mage like me sedated and drained was difficult. Jowan, Daylen and Oghren spent months keeping me fed, healthy and safe, but the strain on my Wardens was great. They were certain that without Thunder's calming influence, I would have broken free eventually. Nothing they tried could heal my mind.
Connor repeatedly made a suggestion which was initially discounted. But as time wore on, desperation rose. Eventually hope overtook pragmatism. Nate gathered Pickering, Connor, Velanna and Drake, and set off.
Daylen rose to his feet. "I'll get the others," he said, his expression still clearly showing his disapproval of Jowan's actions with my phylactery.
I sat back and digested what I'd been told as the rest of the members of that expedition were brought into the room to continue their tale.
The trip to Haven was relatively simple, though that close to the border things were quite tense. The Chantry had set up shop inside the temple where Genitivi had gone into paroxysms of delight. Leliana had ably established them with the local townsfolk, but had been summoned to Val Royeaux before the military action started. The remaining priests exhibited no humility whatsoever, and point blank refused to let any pilgrims past them to the Gauntlet. It was too dangerous, apparently.
Of course, with a shape-shifting mouse in the party, getting the key was not a problem. And the group found sneaking past a bunch of templars in the temple as easy as I'd found sneaking past them in the tower growing up.
The Guardian expressed no surprise on seeing the party, and true to form, asked them pointed questions. They followed the same theme as those asked of my companions, that of regret.
It occurred to me that during my visit, the Guardian had not spoken to Thunder. At the time, I just assumed that it was because he was a dog, but on reflection, he had questioned Shale. And while Shayle of House Cadash was certainly a dwarf, Shale was literally ambulatory rock. So perhaps Thunder was not questioned because alone of all of us, he had no regrets?
In any event, after answering some pointed questions, Nate and his companions were permitted access to the Gauntlet, where they encountered the shade of Rendon Howe. Unsurprisingly, the weasel-faced bastard tried to poison Nate against me, but my Second had no hesitation in telling his father's ghost to begone. With his sister ennobled as the Bann of Amaranthine City and himself as, for all intents and purposes, the heir to the arling, the Howes were far more highly placed that anyone could have expected, given their sire's traitorous dealings.
The rest of the maze posed no difficulty. Armed with the knowledge of what I had faced, the group were prepared for the Gauntlet's trials. Everything that is, except the final cleansing.
As the only female in the group, Velanna was singularly distraught at the thought of stripping in front of her companions, especially as one of them was an adolescent boy and another a leering dwarf. Every male in the group swore they did not peek at her, but Connor's blush told me that he probably gave into temptation. That or that he was very taken by the mental image of the well proportioned elf naked.
They collected the requisite pinch of Ashes, and made their way back. There was a brief altercation with the templars and priests, who were mightily offended. Whether the offense was taken at the success of the endeavour or the flouting of their orders was not made clear.
The priests demanded that the collected Ashes be turned over for examination and testing. Nate refused, and given the ill will he felt towards the Chantry as a whole, did nothing to defuse the situation. Demands turned to threats; threats turned to actions; and actions turned to violence. The final result of which was a bunch of cowering old hags surrounded by the corpses of their bodyguards.
My Wardens wiped their weapons clean on the templar bodies and left. The priests left soon after; they'd not made many friends in Haven and chose not to test the graciousness of the residents.
The return leg of the adventure had been uneventful, and on arrival everyone wanted to bear witness to the miracle. I'd been stunned, placed into bed and sprinkled with the Ashes.
I blinked away tears, suddenly feeling very humbled.
o_ooo000ooo_o
Cassandra touched a hand to her heart, feeling the organ beating a staccato in her breast. "You- you were healed with the Ashes?"
Leliana clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, how wonderful! The Maker's blessing is truly upon you, Kathryn." She sobered quickly. "Though I'm quite put out with Mother Monique. She should never have tried restricting access to the Gauntlet."
The elf nodded slowly, and resumed her tale.
o_ooo000ooo_o
Early the next morning, I sat on the stone bridge leading to Avernus' tower, with Spellfury on my lap and my feet dangling over the edge. Thunder lay next to me under my arm, lending me his warmth in the brisk, pre-dawn air.
I watched as the sky slowly morphed from inky black to deep indigo.
As awful as losing one's mind was, dealing with a reality in a world gone to pot was almost worse.
"Thought I might find you up here," a gravelly voice said from behind me.
"Morning Oghren," I replied, in my now even gravellier voice.
He sat down next to me and we silently watched the sun rise.
"Bloody amazing sight," he said as we finally had to squint. "There's nothing like it in the Deep Roads."
I hummed an agreement. "I'll never get used to it. How come you're up so early?"
"Ah, the nuglet's got his mother's voice and my thirst. Felsi is looking after him, but it's hard to sleep when all that stuff is going on."
I blinked. "Felsi had the baby? What am I saying? Of course she did. Congratulations."
"Cheers. Never thought I'd every say it, but being a da isn't so bad. The nuglet chews on my beard plaits a bit, and Fels won't let me drink so much anymore, but... I don't know, it's... nice. Dagna gave him a couple of stuffed socks she sewed into the shape of a hammer. He smacks everything with it; he's really a shard off the old rock."
I couldn't help but smile at the thought of a mini-Oghren, just months old and already trying to hammer everything into submission. "What's his name?"
"Chrysoprase. Chrys for short."
I gave him a wistful smile. "That's wonderful, Oghren."
He reached out and took one of my hands, and we sat in silence for a long time. "You gonna be all right?" he asked.
"Eventually."
"We might not have that much time, Kat."
"I know."
He nodded. "I know you said that you didn't want to tell anyone what happened with them bastards, but I'm here if you need to let it out."
I winced at the recent memory of letting my anger out on him. "Did I... did I hurt you? I think I remember scratching you up pretty badly."
He shrugged. "Meh, wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I had to get Sigrun to cut your fingernails a few times, of course. But it had to be done to stop you hurting yourself."
I swallowed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Daylen fixed me up right as you please."
I chuckled softly. "You call Alistair the Pike Twirler, even though he's the king. You don't have a nickname for Daylen?"
"Nope. Any human who can score himself a dwarf lassie and keep her happy deserves respect."
I found myself outright laughing at his quip. "Fair enough."
Oghren gave my hand a squeeze. "When you're ready to talk about it, I'm here."
I swallowed. I'd refused point blank to tell Nate and the others what had happened after the templars took me. I was too ashamed to relate how I'd lost control in the dark; too disgusted to relate how I'd survived by feasting on darkspawn flesh. But Oghren... only Thunder had been at my side longer. Oghren may be the one person who would understand. That wouldn't judge me. "They tried to..." I started, but stopped at the lump in my throat.
He squeezed my hand again, but stayed silent.
I took a deep breath. "They put shackles on me; shackles that stopped me doing magic. They took us to Ostagar; Keenan and me."
He mumbled something that sounded like 'turncoat'.
I gave his hand a squeeze. "It wasn't like that, whatever Pick told you. They used him; used his addiction to lyrium to control him. They took us down underground, into the Deep Roads."
Oghren blinked. "What? Why'd they do that? We all thought they'd just slit your throat and bury you in the forest once they were out of sight."
I looked down at my hands, noting that they were trembling. "They knew what they were doing. They made Keenan find some darkspawn. They knew what the darkspawn would do to me. And left us to be taken by them."
"They knew... SODDING BASTARDS!"
I jumped at the sudden volume. The curse echoed off the nearby walls and cliffs.
"Sorry," he apologised, patting my hand.
I nodded and breathed, trying to calm my heart.
"I can't believe... Nate should have let me... What is wrong with those people? I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
Through a tight jaw, I ground out, "People can do all sorts of evil things when they're convinced they're acting for the greater good."
He looked at me as though I was talking another language. "How could anyone think making the darkspawn stronger would be good?"
I shook my head. "No, they weren't thinking about that. Remember that woman you called a prune in Amaranthine? The templars told me that she and the old Grand Cleric were convinced to give up their positions – for the greater good of the Chantry. Deciding my fate was their price."
Oghren blinked owlishly at me. "And these are the people you lot listen to when they talk about morality?"
I shrugged. "I guess."
He watched my reaction. "So what happened? How did you get away?"
I was silent for a while. "The darkspawn carried me deep into the earth; much deeper than I'd ever been before. They carried me for hours. In a cavern they... did things to me. All I could think about Hespith's poem. When an ogre tried to... Well, I bit my cheek and spat blood in his mouth. It hurt him so much he lashed out, but he broke the shackles instead of me."
Oghren stayed silent.
"In a few seconds I recovered just enough magic to cast one spell. I turned into an archdemon and killed them all. I struck out for the surface, but I lost my way – and my mind – in the dark. I ate anything, and for a while forgot that I was trying to get out. I only found an exit by accident."
Oghren shook his head in wonder. "By the stones of my ancestors, your piss would cut diamond, Kat. I'd have bet my beard that no one else alive would be tough enough to make it out of there without weapons or food."
My hands still trembled. "I felt so weak," I whispered.
"Ha! Your version of weak is tougher than anyone else's best, Kat. Remember, that which doesn't kill me..." he trailed off, as though expecting me to finish his sentence for him.
I frowned. "What?"
He looked out over the Waking Sea. "Oh, you haven't heard that one? Well, we dwarves have a saying. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
For some reason, that phrase made me furious. I reached out and grabbed a pair of his beard plaits and pulled his head around to face me. "That which does not kill me," I emphasized in a deep growl, jabbing my chest with a thumb, "has made a sodding colossal mistake!"
He looked delighted. "There's the Kat I remember!"
I blinked, and let go. "I... sorry."
"Don't be. We're gonna need her soon." He rose to his feet.
I lowered my eyes. "Thanks for listening to me."
"Any time." He patted me on the shoulder. "The scrapper I know is still in there somewhere. When you're ready to let her out again, let me know. I'll be right next to you when you take the fight back to them bastards." He wandered off, leaving me to my thoughts.
I stared out over the ocean as his footsteps faded, the morning sun warming my skin. Thunder looked up hopefully at me, and I scratched his ears.
"Oghren's right," I told him. "I can't just feel sorry for myself. Come on. Let's go see if Avernus is up."
The ancient maleficar was indeed up; I wasn't sure if he ever actually went to sleep.
"Ah, Commander. Thank you for coming to see me. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to see you for some days."
"I couldn't sleep," I replied.
He nodded, and gestured towards a new chair in his workshop. "Please, sit. What I have to say may be rather startling."
I dropped myself into the chair. "Now you have me curious. You said it was potentially important, but not urgent."
"Indeed," he said, sitting down into his own chair. "The issue may have quite far reaching consequences, but it is easily correctable."
I raised an eyebrow. "What issue?"
He held up a hand. "Forgive me, but may I ask you a few questions first? The scholar in me is aghast at letting the opportunity for knowledge to escape. And if you are aware of my reason, it may influence your answers."
"Okay," I replied slowly.
"How do you feel? Not in terms of your overall health, but your strength."
I considered that. "I feel quite weak, but that would be because I've been bedridden for months."
Avernus shook his head. "You spent no more in your bed than normal, as I understand it. Your constant physical altercations with Warden Oghren gave you sufficient exercise to maintain your strength. Yet you feel weak. That is interesting."
"Why?"
"A moment. How is your appetite?"
I blinked. "My appetite? I was hungry when I gave up trying to sleep this morning, but I had some breakfast."
"The portion size?"
I cupped my hands together to mime a small bowl. "About yay much, I'd say. It's not as much as I normally eat."
He nodded. "I see. How about your endurance?"
"Climbing the stairs up here was a bit more difficult that I remember. Why the questions?"
He sighed. "I sometimes forget that you are so young to the Wardens. You probably have not yet reached the stage where you can sense the presence of the taint in other Wardens."
I frowned. "No, no I haven't."
"Then it is perhaps understandable that you have not noticed anything untoward. As I said, the issue I need to discuss is potentially problematic. The Ashes that repaired your mind – a most remarkable event to witness, might I add – appear to have cured you of everything."
"Not my scars," I replied.
He ignored my response and looked at me intently. "Have you not divined the reason for my line of inquiry?"
It clicked the instant he asked the question. "I'm weaker, not as fit, nor as hungry as I used to be. I'm not a Grey Warden any more, am I?"
He frowned. "Of course you are! Do you not recall the ritual words spoken at a Joining? You do not become a Grey Warden from imbibing the Joining potion, you become a Grey Warden the moment you accept the Joining Chalice. The potion merely gives you the power necessary to fight the darkspawn." He leaned forward and emphasised, "You are a Grey Warden; that will never change." He paused. "What you have been cured of, is the taint. I can no longer sense it in you."
"Oh," I said, for want of something intelligent to say.
Avernus leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. "The precedent set by our friend Warden Fiona ensures that you retain your rank and privileges. The potential issues I mentioned stem from any future encounters you have with darkspawn. And, I suppose, the vanishingly small chance of you facing another archdemon. We should take care."
"I see. I'm no longer immune to the taint."
Avernus frowned. "I had thought you capable of a level of critical thinking enough that you would not make such an unwarranted assumption," he reproved. "As it stands, it is likely you would no longer be able to end a Blight by striking the killing blow to an archdemon, but there is no reason to unilaterally believe you are once again vulnerable to Blight-sickness."
I blinked. "It is Grey Warden lore that our immunity comes from accepting the taint," I pointed out.
He waved a hand. "That is a supposition at best, given our hitherto inability to test it. A few hardy souls are more resistant to the taint, despite not being Grey Wardens. The Legion of the Dead, for instance, has far fewer incidences of corruption than they should, statistically speaking. To date, there are only two known instances of the taint being cured. Both cures were from distinctly different sources."
I rubbed my chin. "That suggests that there may be any number of ways to cure the taint. It could potentially remove the need for the Calling."
Avernus gave me a creepy smile. "Precisely!"
"I suppose that I could just take the Joining potion again," I mused.
"That would be a monumental waste," Avernus snapped.
I blinked at his vehemence. "What?"
He leaned forward. "We have been given a tremendous opportunity to expand upon our knowledge of the taint. Fiona and those imbeciles in Weisshaupt have wasted their opportunity; I do not intend to do the same."
I leaned back in the chair and stared at him for a while. "We have a sample of my blood from before I was a Warden," I said carefully. "It could be compared with a sample taken now."
Avernus nodded, a creepy, thin-lipped smile on his face. "Yes, yes, exactly! Oh, the tests I could do! We could discover a better Joining potion, or a method of bestowing a temporary resistance to the taint. Soldiers all over Thedas could owe their continued existence to you. But that is not the least of the potential benefits. We could discover a way of extracting more power from the taint!"
"I take it you have ideas around testing my immunity too?"
"Yes, of course. We have a great deal of darkspawn blood in our stores. We could expose you to precisely measured amounts in controlled circumstances. If you have retained your immunity, imagine what that could mean!"
I couldn't help a smile. An amoral researcher, yes, but Avernus did not lack ambition. "Methods of both creating and curing Grey Wardens and a way to infer resistance to the Taint; this could be world-changing."
Avernus actually grinned. "Indeed, Commander. Indeed. Imagine fighting the darkspawn with an entire army immune to their most powerful weapon. We could eradicate the menace for good!"
Over the next few weeks, I slowly built up my stamina, both physical and magical. It was obvious that being cured of the taint left me without the physical power I derived from it. Nate left with several of my Wardens, Sigrun, Velanna and Hape. He wanted to leave me with close friends nearby, but there were many other duties the Wardens were needed for. Oghren was nominally in charge of the Peak, given that Dagna was still so new to the Wardens. But she basically ran the place, including conducting lessons for some of the under-educated apostates.
Though there were many non-Wardens at the Peak – apostates and Circle mages, assassins, merchants and the like – I managed to keep my identity a secret. I kept my scalp bald and wore a veil across my face, leaving only my eyes visible. The effect lent me a foreign flavour, and there were a small but significant number of apostates at the Peak who had been born abroad. A simple, unadorned Grey Warden robe finished the look of a foreign-born, junior Grey Warden mage.
Avernus was an odd mixture of disappointed and pleased that, while I was fully committed to his goal of wringing every scrap of knowledge from my situation, I was only prepared to let Jowan physically handle my blood. No doubt he wanted full access to a potentially groundbreaking line of research, but the fact that I was wary with whom I trusted with my blood made him nod with satisfaction at my caution. I was happy for the old maleficar to oversee the research, but Jowan had been my friend for my entire life. I trusted him and him alone enough to explore the changes the Joining had made to my physiology.
I spent some time with our pet dragons. Of the six live dragonlings we'd rescued from the Architect's lair, two were female. Jowan had bonded with one in much the same way that a mabari imprinted on someone, and he'd named her in honour of his love from the Circle. The other female had chosen Daylen, and had been named for a favoured aunt who'd proved brave enough to elope with an apostate. Daylen appreciated the romantic aspect of the story.
Lily and Leandra, though nest-mates, seemingly picked up on the rivalry between the two mages, and could not be left alone in the same space without snarling and snapping at each other.
Much like Jowan and Daylen, come to think of it.
Still, the dragons were growing well and fast; it wouldn't be long before we could start to train them for battle. Of course, that would be a very, very careful process.
Connor was proving to be a more than competent student. Despite the shortcut taken for him to learn his mouse shape, he had progressed well on the way to learning another animal form on his own.
His mental health however, was a different story. With the exception of the day I'd been cured, he had not smiled in months. He would only talk openly with Pickering. And his dreams were once more invaded by insistent demons.
That at least could be taken care of.
Safely ensconced in Avernus' tower, we repeated the adventure into the Fade. This time however, I brought half the Wardens stationed at the Peak. Including Avernus. As powerful as I was, two hundred years of experience defying demons was not something I was going to willingly deprive the group of.
The demons we encountered were initially delighted at the bounty of souls brought to their realm. Attracted to the increasing local population of mages and the mass of new magic, there were hundreds of the buggers. We made sure that any initial delight was correspondingly brief.
It felt good to once more direct Wardens in battle. In an environment where there was no possibility of collateral damage and every target was an enemy, it proved an excellent training exercise for the less experienced Wardens. A few of the younger mages used destructive magic for the first time outside of a classroom.
Pickering ably coached the warriors, a number of whom were a little wild-eyed at being in the Fade. His previous experience stood him in good stead, and he managed to personally take down a number of moderately powerful demons.
The arrival of two Pride demons capped off the afternoon, and they were soon capped off themselves. With so many mages on hand, it was simple to keep the gigantic demons almost constantly petrified.
We didn't emerge totally unscathed, but injuries short of death did not transfer across to the mortal realm. Broken bones and even deep gashes were only a worry while in the Fade. Once we were pulled out, it only took a few stretches to be back to full mobility.
After the cross-dimensional jaunt, Connor's dreams were once again clear of demons. The lad's disposition cleared after a good long sleep. In fact, the entire population of non-Warden mages noted the sudden dearth of nightly whispered temptations. A few days of uninterrupted rest did wonders. I saw mages twice my age suddenly prank each other like teenagers.
It warmed my heart.
We did not keep our activities secret, and on discovering the reason for the unexpected peace, several apostates volunteered to be a part of the next Fade-foray. Most had never been in the Fade beyond their dreams – the traditional method took far too much in the way of lyrium.
Dagna immediately started work on a rota for a weekly repeat trip for training purposes. After missing out the first time, it was perhaps not surprising that her name featured prominently at the top of every upcoming group. She had enthusiastically monitored our health the first time, but she'd sooner burn her own burgeoning library than give up the chance to visit the Fade.
All in all, life at the Peak was delightfully normal for a fortress in a country at war. But the normality did not last. A few weeks after my cure events drew me back to the world.
I was reviewing Jowan's latest experimental results when a recent recruit interrupted us. "Excuse me, Commander?"
I looked up. "Yes?"
"There are reports of an entourage bearing the tabards of Gwaren and Redcliffe approaching the Peak. There are perhaps fifty soldiers and several carriages."
Jowan and I shared a look. "I see," I said. "Could you locate my Senior Wardens and ask them to gather in the War Room. Then escort our guests there. Have some refreshments made available. Have Worthington ready the west barracks to billet the soldiers."
"At once, Commander."
I rubbed my chin as he left. "Gwaren and Redcliffe. Interesting combination."
Jowan scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Um, I don't think I should..."
I raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to see Eamon? Or chat about old times?"
He gave me an eloquent look. "Not particularly, no. It would probably be distracting if I was in a meeting with the man I was hired to poison."
I shrugged. As entertaining as it promised to be to see Jowan and Eamon face off, I wasn't going to force the issue. "You and your amusing foibles; I work with people who were hired to kill me all the time. But fine, be that way. We can take this up again tomorrow. Can you grab Avernus and send him down? Oh, Connor will want to see his father; grab him too, if you can. Pickering will probably be with him."
He nodded, rolled up his research and headed on up the stairs to Avernus' personal chambers.
I left the Warden's tower and crossed the bridge. From my vantage point I could see the first soldiers of the entourage emerge from the tunnels. There were quite a few of them. Not enough to be a full military unit, but more than would be expected to escort a noble around; even in a country on a war footing.
On the exposed bridge, the wind was biting. I wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders and made my way into the main body of the Peak.
A servant was stoking a fire from a cold hearth in the War Room when I arrived. He glanced up at my arrival, but decided that I was not ranked highly enough for him to rise and bow. Dressed in unadorned Warden robes and without my distinctive hair, barely anyone recognised me.
That suited me.
Daylen and Dagna arrived next, hand in hand. Oghren and Drake stomped in behind, drenched in perspiration and still sporting some puffy lips and bruises. They'd obviously been sparring. Daylen rolled his eyes at their appearance, but washed their wounds away with a wave of his hands.
The fire-stoker completed his task and left with a bow. Some more servants entered with platters of cold meats, fruits and nuts, steaming bread and several bottles of wine. Just a snack then. My Wardens helped themselves absently, as was a Grey Warden's want. Food never went to waste around them.
It was odd, no longer having such an appetite.
Connor dashed in a few minutes later, breathless and excited. It was the most animated I'd seen him in a long time. I gestured to the seat beside me, and he plonked himself down. Pickering wandered in soon after, and smiled at the way Connor could barely keep his seat.
Avernus shuffled in, and the conversation in the room slowed to a trickle. Though he was seemingly oblivious to the change, it was obvious that the old mage intimidated the other Wardens.
Perhaps ten minutes later, a servant announced the arrivals. Teyrn Aedan, Bann Teagan and Ambassador Larkworthy. Connor's face fell even as we rose.
Teagan, Aedan and William entered and bowed. "Wardens of Ferelden, thank you for receiving us. It is good to..." Aedan's eyes widened as he looked at me. "Kathryn?" he blurted.
I smiled, both at his surprise and at the bulging eyes from both Teagan and William. "Hello Aedan. How are you?"
"I... I should be asking you! We were told that some templars had abducted you. We thought you lost! What happened?"
I gripped my right wrist with my left hand in an effort to control the trembling. "They did abduct me. As far as we know, they believe they succeeded in making me vanish."
Teagan stared at me. "Kathryn, your voice..."
I shrugged, not answering.
Aedan turned to Teagan. "This changes things."
William cleared his throat. "Not necessarily, Teyrn Aedan."
I flicked my gaze between them. "Changes what?"
Aedan sobered. "The Orlesians have agreed to a temporary cessation of hostilities. They have offered their hospitality to negotiate a formal peace treaty. Their Majesties requested that Bann Teagan and I travel to Val Royeaux to represent them."
I felt a wave of relief. "Good, the sooner this stupid war is over the better. But what changes what?"
Teagan shrugged. "We don't know why there was such a sudden shift in the Empress' policy."
Aedan stared at me. "Isn't it obvious? They know Kathryn is alive."
o_ooo000ooo_o
Gaylen frowned. "I don't understand."
Cassandra poured the last of the wine into her glass. "Word reached back to the Divine that the templars stationed at Ostagar were obliterated to a man. Obliterated just days before the order to march north was delivered. As fortunate circumstances go, that one would take a bit of beating. Empress Celene chose to withdraw her troops from the border."
The mage swallowed. "I don't wish to show disrespect, but what of it? Surely the Imperial army was capable of invading without crippling Ferelden first."
Kathryn grinned impishly at the mage, but it was Cassandra who answered. "In warfare, if your opponent exhibits a capability you were not aware of, you stop until you learn everything you can about it. The Empress had no idea what happened at Ostagar. She concluded that the Fereldans had allied with whatever exterminated all those templars. All she knew for certain was that the timing strongly suggested that King Alistair was aware of the existence of the force, and that he knew of their purpose. He waited until the last moment to neutralize the threat."
"Ah, I suppose that's why I'm not a general," Gaylen said, rubbing the back of his neck, his face faintly red.
The grin didn't shift from the Warden's lips. "Celene needed more information before she could act. And so she turned to reconciliation to give her the necessary time. There was also the fact that Alistair knew of the templar involvement in my abduction. He'd sent some pretty insulting notes to Beatrix about it, but he also wrote to the various Warden Commanders around Thedas. Having the Grey Wardens in every country demanding answers from their own Grand Clerics put quite some pressure on her."
Cassandra crossed her arms, a sneer of contempt on her face. "And so, when feigned claims of ignorance did not work, Beatrix had twelve innocent templars selected and excommunicated."
Leliana looked at her comrade with concern at the uncharacteristic, blatant disrespect. "Perhaps she had no choice."
Cassandra rounded on her. "What possible excuse could there be?"
"Extortion?" Kathryn suggested, much to Cassandra's surprise.
"What?"
The Warden sipped her wine. "Had it just been Pickering, Thunder and me on that road, they would have succeeded in making us vanish without anyone knowing their identities. But thanks to Connor, the secret was discovered. Beatrix had just happily promoted, in secret, every surviving templar who'd taken part. Do you suppose ambitious, amoral templars who'd just been given power would willingly step aside just because their deeds became known?"
Cassandra sneered. "Hiding her complicity would be a more likely reason."
Kathryn shrugged. "Well, it was only by the demands of the First Warden that the templars were excommunicated anyway. Aedan stopped at Soldier's Peak to deliver an invitation to the Wardens in person. Beatrix offered her hospitality to a representative of each country's Wardens to observe the expulsion."
o_ooo000ooo_o
I leaned back in my chair. "They're seriously going to expel them?" I asked Aedan, doubt evident even in my damaged voice. "They were acting under orders. Darrian reported to the Divine herself."
Teagan cleared his throat. "Evidently. Grand Cleric Marguerite arrived in Denerim two weeks ago with several missives over the Divine's seal. One was an invitation for a representative from the Grey Wardens of Ferelden to bear witness to the expulsion."
I turned that over in my mind.
Daylen cleared his throat. "Er, I strongly suggest that you do not go, Commander," he said.
I frowned at him. "Don't be absurd. Of course I'm going. But not as a Fereldan Grey Warden representative." A plan began to form.
Oghren cackled. "Heh, grab hold of your stones, she's got that look on her face."
"What look?" Dagna asked.
"The look that means that some poor bastard is about to get it right up the arse."
I grinned at him. "Oghren, how would you feel about a trip to Orlais? You think Felsi and Chrys would fancy a change of scenery?"
o_ooo000ooo_o
AN: Thanks to my reviewers – Aeonir, Robbie the Phoenix, Shadow Pegasus, khaos974, GoldenDevil06, Anime-StarWars-fan-zach, MB18932, jaffa3, shadowassassian, NPC200, raw666, Mike3207, Markeriv, Fenrir666 (x12!), Arsinoe de Blassenville, Mage, Phygmalion, unanimously anonymous. mostly, Phlogiston Man, jaffa3 (x2), mattblue, TheNStorm, BloodyKitsune, Sauurman, a fan ch 25, hyperactiveslacker94, KrossWinter (x2) and a couple of guests. Thank you so much for sticking with this.
I must have written this chapter 4 times. Originally, it was a conversation between the Wardens, but it was 20k words long before it was even half done, and it was just becoming a chore to read. Then I wrote it as a flashback, but I just didn't like it. Even now I'm not happy with it, but I need to just get it out there so I can continue the story onto Orlais and Kirkwall.