Author's Note: Thanks everyone for reviewing and adding the story to your favorites and alerts! The response has been tremendous, I really can't even... ah, there's just no words. (Other than these, of course.) In other news, Alistair took Rally as an ability, obviously, and thank goodness for that! This chapter also ends our on-going saga in Haven, which is also cause for celebration, me thinks!
Chapter 55 - No Greater Honor
After months of worry, of thinking there was no way Fergus could still be alive in the Wilds, with all those darkspawn roaming about, Serena had hope. Her father... he... whatever he had been... He had said 'as you both will one day find your way to us'... Both! Didn't that mean Fergus was still alive? If he were gone, wouldn't he already be with them?
Serena's head spun with the realization, the belief that she had to be right, he had to be alive.
And he would find her.
"We should move on," Serena said firmly. "We've got to be close now."
"Are you sure you're alright?" Alistair asked tentatively, his hand still on her arm, prodding her gently with the questions he wasn't ready to say out loud. One of which was surely are you sure you're not losing it?
"Yes," she replied, looking him in the eye. "I won't lie to you. That was... intense. But I'm okay." Serena glanced at the others. "We're all okay. I think that was part of the... test... to get through... that."
"I never knew Andraste for a trickster," Zevran said, frowning slightly.
Alistair snorted, wrapping an arm around Serena's waist as he led her into the next room. "I suppose over-emotional outbursts help us prove our worthiness."
"I'm just glad Sten and Morrigan stayed back," Leliana said. "Can you imagine her during the riddles? Unbearable."
"She probably would have tried to set one of the ghosts on fire." Serena laughed, finding herself surprised she actually could laugh so readily. "I imagine she'd get on well with that vengeance woman, though."
"Anyone who enjoys setting people ablaze is a friend in Morrigan's book," Alistair added.
"Oof-" Serena felt a sharp burst of pain in her shoulder and she turned around, only to see a ghostly woman aiming a short bow at her, prepared to shoot again. Serena cursed, grabbed Alistair, and threw him to the floor as another ghost charged past, long daggers out. Zevran? Wait, no, he was just...
"Serena!" Alistair called, awkwardly reaching for his father's sword as he twisted beneath her. "It's you!"
"Yes, Serena, do watch out," Leliana taunted from nearby, her ghostly pale hands holding the sword she'd had all the way back in Lothering. She swiped at the pair, a maniacal grin on her face that the real Leliana would never have. "And what about you, lover-boy? Will you be able to save her this time?"
"Maker's breath!" Serena rolled over Alistair, her leg stinging sharply at the movement, as she pulled one of her daggers up to block the ghostly bard's sword while another arrow sailed past. Pushing her weight into the parry, she reached out with her other hand and grabbed the wrist, swinging the faux-Leliana into the path of the next arrow.
Sure enough, the spirit form of Serena shot true and the arrow landed right into the ghost's back as Alistair plunged his sword into the bard's stomach, kicking her to the ground as the apparition burst apart into dust.
"Who's next?" Alistair bellowed, pulling his shield from his back, a dangerous note to his voice. Serena saw him cast his eyes about, possibly looking for his own double, as she moved slowly to the corner to engage the false version of herself.
"Why, it's our great heroine, Ser Serena the Brave!" the false Serena jeered, her smile a cruel twist of the one Serena usually saw in the mirror. "Have you come to save the day again?" Her double pulled the two silverite blades from her belt, sprinting forward in an effort to knock the real Serena off balance.
It was a move Serena herself had done many times, and like many opponents, she felt herself spinning uselessly in an effort to get out of the way as the ghost barreled into her, pushing her off her feet and onto the ground with another breathy "oof!"
"It would appear you aren't that tough without your big bad templar boyfriend, are you, bitch?"
Serena felt fear clutch her heart as her double stared into her eyes, the daggers that had been a birthday gift from her father poised above her. Suddenly a furious roar sounded out, and Serena felt her panic subside as her body rallied at the sound. Alistair.
Gathering her legs beneath her, she launched her double into the air, kicking out as hard as she could, her leg protesting the entire time as stitches burst apart. The fake Serena screamed as she fell back, landing hard on her back. Suddenly, Leliana was there, the real Leliana, her flaming red hair swishing gently as she pulled Serena to her feet clumsily. They were back-to-back, fighting against the double, Leliana using her own body as a shield for Serena's injury.
"It is only fair, is it not? Since you got rid of my twin." Leliana's voice was rough, as if she'd been choked or slammed into something hard.
"Who is left?" Serena asked, her eyes searching the blackened chamber for the others. The pain was lessening, she could feel Wynne's magic touch her from afar, and Serena murmured her thanks to the Maker for such fine friends.
"Alistair, Wynne, and... you." Leliana pulled a dagger from her boot and parried the blow coming from the fake Serena.
"Oh, ho! It's all friends together!" The double sneered at the pair. "Let's see your precious Maker guide you now!" Leliana swung her sword again to parry another blow from the spirit while it kicked out, trying to trip them up.
"I feel like I should be flattered that I'm having such trouble fighting myself," Serena joked as she barely made it over the sweeping leg of the ghost. "I didn't realize I could be such a total bitch, though." Dipping low, she kicked her own leg out at the ghost, knocking her to the ground as Leliana leaned into the stab her through the throat as the spirit dissolved into smoke.
"Yeesh, Leli," Serena said, glancing at the bard. "Anything you want to tell me about?"
"My apologies. You did try to kill us, though."
"Mmm. Good point."
Behind them, Alistair roared again as he battled the spectral version of Wynne, blocking her staff with a push of his shield. Zevran fought the faux-templar just paces away as the real Wynne chanted nearby, a rune glowing on the ground at her feet.
"Your boy has a lot of rage today," Leliana remarked lightly, replacing her sword in the sheath at her back.
"I think he's still pissed at Morrigan." Serena leaned down to examine her leg. The bandage had bled through, and half the stitches at the top were ripped apart, Wynne magic was barely keeping the skin knit together. "Unless that isn't what you meant, of course."
"Ha, I thought it might be because you guys haven't..." The bard raised a red eyebrow mockingly.
"Pfft. You've been hanging around Zevran too much," Serena replied, pulling a new bandage from her pack. "We're not bunnies, you know."
"Could have fooled me!" Leliana teased. She leaned down, helping tie the new bandage on, and Serena could tell the light conversation was so she wouldn't worry about the wound. Indeed, from up close, it looked ghastly, and Serena found herself wondering how Alistair had managed watching her get stitched up.
Beyond, the man in question whipped his sword around and beheaded the fake mage in one fell swoop, whooping happily as he turned to help Zevran fight his double.
"An elf and an old woman? Is this really the best you can do? I'm a bloody Grey Warden!" the ghostly Alistair jeered, using his shield to protect his flank from Zevran's attack.
"Then let's see how you deal with me, you self-righteous git!" Alistair shouted, bashing his shield into the double's other side.
"Did he just call himself a bastard?" Leliana smirked, her eyes watching the two men team up on the apparition.
"I love it." Serena snorted, her injury forgotten for the moment as she watched the scene unfold. "That's not even the first time he's done it, Maker bless him."
"Should we help them? I feel like we should help them." Leliana looked down at Serena, who simply shrugged, unwilling to move her leg again.
Spinning on his heel, the real Alistair slammed his shield into the double again, catching it off balance. The spectral Alistair lost his footing and fell back right onto Zevran's dagger, impaling himself as the assassin slid his second weapon across the spirits neck. With a rush of air that threw them all back, the large door to the next room flew open.
"Another room? Maker's breath..." Serena moved into the chamber, gazing at the open door beyond. Wynne had healed her leg again, clucking at the busted stitches. It had taken another 20 minutes for her to re-do them, and then re-bandage the wound. Alistair had expressly forbidden her from combat, of any kind, for the next day or so. Serena had pouted briefly before quelling under the fierce look the older mage had shot her.
"So... riddles, combat against very mean evil twins... and now we're supposed to... what? Jump across?" Alistair stared over the edge of the platform into the abyss below. "Nevermind. I definitely don't want to jump."
"It says 'Andraste loved Her disciples as She loved the Maker. As we have faith in the Maker, so must we have faith in our friends.'" Leliana stepped away from the small engraving on the floor. "I bet we'll have to work together and join hands and sing a happy song to get across!"
"Faith in our friends..." Serena muttered, walking along the edge of the platforms. "So was the last test just about kicking our inner demons in the ass?"
"Ooh, look at that!" Alistair pointed out to a ghostly platform that appeared out in the chasm. "I don't think it's solid enough to stand on, but it's a start." He walked to another floor switch and jumped on it, looking momentarily excited before his face fell when nothing happened. "Oh, boo. This one is broken."
"Perhaps it requires a certain pattern?" Wynne suggested. "Serena, stay right there..." The white haired mage wandered over to the other side, eyeing the floor switches carefully. "Alistair, move to that one when I try this one."
With a click, the first platform became concrete and a second spectral piece appeared.
"That's it! That's an actual bridge piece, right there!" Alistair turned to Serena, his face lighting up again. "If we can get all the bridge pieces to be solid, we could make it across."
"But there's only five of us," Serena replied, looking from them to the bridge.
"There are only four pieces, though, so we should be fine." Zevran strolled past her. "Wynne, where shall you like me?" The mage considered before pointing to the last switch in the row.
"Aww... nowhere closer to you, my darling Wynne?" The elf jumped onto the switch and another bridge piece became solid as the last bridge piece appeared.
"Don't push it, Zevran. And I am not your darling." Her eyes rolled to the ceiling before she directed Leliana to another switch.
The assassin put a hand over his face dramatically. "And so once again I am rejected, just as I am by the cruel, cruel fates..."
Serena exchanged glances with Alistair, smiling. It was good to hear a bit of the old Zevran still existed after all the emotional distress they'd had to work through to get here so far. His conversation with that elven woman, a former lover of his that he'd allowed to be killed, was particularly troublesome to overhear.
The bard jumped on another switch and the bridge made a final click as all the pieces solidified.
"Maker's breath! Andraste only favored the clever, it seemed," Alistair snorted, walking across the barrier with Serena.
"Oh, I'm sure there's a moral in here..." Zevran murmured. "Something about building bridges with friends, and such. Something poetic... oh, well."
They stepped through the corridor and heard Leliana gasp. Ten foot tall flames erupted before them, cutting them off from the staircase beyond, and the bard stumbled back, obviously alarmed.
"It would appear Andraste only favors the crispy now," said Zevran sarcastically, putting an arm around the redhead to steady her.
"That's the Urn, just up there, isn't it?" Alistair stepped back from the heat. "So... how do we do this?"
"Unity and rainbows and puppies, I'm sure," Serena muttered, moving towards the only thing in the room, a small stone altar. The altar was carved with the symbol of Andraste, and Serena ran a hand across the thick coating of dust that covered the top, revealing the words beneath.
"Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit," Serena read aloud. "King and slave, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight." She turned around. "That's all it says." She glanced at Alistair, then shrugged, dropping her pack to the ground. Bit by bit, she started removing her armor.
He watched for a moment, an eyebrow arching up. "What... are... you... doing?"
"Uh... casting off the... trappings of worldly life, I suppose?" Serena pulled off her boots, standing in her leggings and tunic. "Hmm..." With a quick tug, she pulled her tunic up over her hand, too, and stepped out of her torn leggings.
"Maker's breath, Serena!" Alistair rushed forward, standing between her and the others, his eyes wide. "You're naked!"
"And you're not," she countered. "Come on, get cloaked in the goodness of spirit with me." Peering around his shoulder, she sought the eyes of the others. She could see Wynne was already removing her cloak and robes. "I'm not the only one who's going up to the Urn, right?"
"Oh, I think I like this test." Zevran dropped his pack and started unbuckling his armor. Beside him, Leliana was doing the same, removing her leathers and pulling her boots off.
"What about you, love?" Serena smirked at Alistair. "Will you be keeping your... trappings?"
Alistair rolled his eyes, dropping his pack to the ground. "Well, if everyone else is getting naked, I suppose I can't just stand here looking the fool..." He sighed as Serena moved to help him remove his swords and armor. "I wish we didn't have an audience for this," he murmured.
"At least we don't have to fight anyone in our knickers," Serena said, shrugging. "At least, I hope we don't..."
Once everyone was down to their smallclothes, Serena grasped Alistair's hand.
"So what now? We just... we just walk through?"
"Yes. I think we just walk through."
Alistair peered at the fire, his eyes still looking uneasy. "It still feels very hot."
"Have faith, Alistair," Leliana said calmly, coming to stand at Serena's other side. They stood in a line, all five of them, all holding hands, and as one, stepped through the fire. Serena felt the tingling of the flames as they licked across her skin and hair; it was a bit like being in a high wind, only much warmer. Surprisingly, Serena found that the fire felt good on her injured leg, as if it was burning out the taint that stopped her from healing quickly, but too soon they were through, each marveling at their unburned skin.
"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet; you have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed." The Guardian had returned, stepping through the flames himself, a smile on his face. Serena saw his eyes flick to Leliana and he gave her a small nod. "You have proven yourselves worthy, pilgrims. Approach the Sacred Ashes."
Serena felt her breath catch in her throat as they walked up to Urn, clad only in their small clothes and various bandages. An enormous statue of Andraste, a flame burning in her open hand, loomed over them as the Guardian walked to the top of the stairs and handed Serena a small leather pouch.
"Peace be with you, pilgrims," he murmured before he fading away. Behind him, the flames abruptly died.
"I never dreamed I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes... I... I have no words to expess-" Leliana's voice sounded tiny in the enormity of the moment.
Stepping up the Urn, Serena pulled the large golden top off carefully. Her hand was shaking and she bit her lip, trying desperately to steady it. Taking a pinch of the Ashes, she placed them in the pouch the Guardian had given her and recovered the Urn, stepping back.
"Oh my," she sighed loudly. "I... I... oh, Maker..." Serena swooned, nearly falling to her knees as the magnitude of the moment washed over her in waves. Alistair was immediately beside her, whispering quietly in her ear, his strong arms helping her back to her feet.
"I'm sorry, I just... this is so...so..."
"I know, love, you don't have to explain." Alistair squeezed her hand tightly. "I didn't think anyone could succeed in finding Andraste's final resting place... but there... there She is. We did it."
"I could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here, Serena." Wynne placed a hand on her shoulder as they headed back down the staircase. "I will never forget this feeling."
"Nor I," Zevran replied solemnly.
They moved back through the chamber, silently putting on their clothing and armor. Replacing her weapons in her belt, Serena took one last look at the Urn before leading them out of the temple and back to where Sten and Morrigan waited.
Upon returning to the bottom of the temple, Genitivi was waiting for them. He still limped heavily, although no worse than Serena, but appeared in high spirits as they reached him. Peanut ran to meet Serena, taking great bounding leaps across the snow-covered floor to greet her.
"My friends! It had been quite some time, I had started to worry..." The brother leaned against a pillar, smiling happily at Serena's mabari as he bounced around. "Such a wonderful animal you have there. A few of the cultists came down from that passageway, but he took care of them quickly enough while I hid." Serena noticed Genitivi was now wearing a strange collection of heavier clothes; mismatched gloves and a heavy cap to protect himself from the near freezing temperatures. She assumed they were... unintended gifts from the dead cultists.
"Did you find the Urn? I noticed you are limping... I hope the injury is not grave."
"It will heal in time," Serena replied. "But in better news... Yes!" She grinned as she held up the pouch of Ashes for the brother to see.
"Is that... oh, Maker... I'm not worthy to look upon..." Genitivi bowed his head, exhaling softly. "What... what was it like? Coming to see the Urn, I mean?"
"It was... I can't even explain... It was so... I can't thank you enough for helping us, Brother." Serena clasped the man in an unexpected hug, and after a moment, felt him return it.
"Thank you, dear girl. Perhaps my research will not seem so much like blasphemy to the Chantry now..." Genitivi patted Serena awkwardly on the shoulder, as if he didn't know what else to do. "We should organize an expedition here, perhaps. There is... so much history, it would be a shame to not study it further. And pilgrims... they should be allowed to come to the Urn."
"I'm not sure of the safety, honestly." Serena glanced quickly at the rest of her companions, noting the bruises and cuts that graced their faces and hands. "Certainly not everyone is as... capable as us, and we were not without our own... difficulties." She gestured to her bandaged leg, pulling down the side to expose the thick black stitches on her thigh. "You're welcome to bring an expedition of Chantry sisters, but I worry it would become-"
"A blood bath?" Morrigan supplied. "A massacre? A slaughterhouse, perhaps?"
"Yes, thank you, Morrigan," Serena murmured.
"There were many dragons," Sten added, pulling back his cuff to reveal a bright red burn there.
"Dragons? Hmm. Perhaps you've a point," Genitivi concluded. "Maybe a specialized group, if only to prove the Urn's existance, and collect samples for the Chantry..." The man nodded to himself. "Well, I shall think on it, anyway. This feels like... vindication, almost. After years of ridicule and being told the Urn was a myth, that it couldn't exist... and here you've brought proof!"
"Yes, well, you certainly made believers out of us, Brother."