Kocari Wilds (Or Breaking Duncan)

Duncan fought off the urge to cry. They hadn't even been in Ostagar for a day yet and already there were so many complaints. People being robbed (Faren, Daveth and possibly Torph), being bullied (he debated if that was Epona or Narascha), being beaten up for training purposes (that was definitely Narascha), told that everything they said or did was wrong (Cobian, for the love of the Maker-) and angering a mage (Lawrien and Ciara). And people were also finding things misplaced with bite marks and slobber on said things (Calenhad).

He fought off the urge to bang his head off a wall.

Duncan hesitated when he saw Ser Jory rushing over frantically, while Narascha and Epona strolled leisurely behind him. Epona looked alright for now, but there was a shakiness to her fingers, and her cheek was a pinkish colour, as if she had been struck. Hopefully not. Hopefully she had just lost her balance and accidentally bumped into something. Please let that be the reason. Otherwise there might be a dead body in a tree somewhere.

Thank the Maker everyone was almost gathered up. He'd send them out for some darkspawn blood while he prepared the ritual. That would finally keep them busy and out of trouble.

"Ser Jory?" Duncan braced himself. "Are you alright?"

"No, Lady Narascha and Lady Epona harassed a sister of the Chantry."

No. Not the Chantry. Not again.

"She harassed us first." Narascha crossed her arms. "We said we'd stay out of the way while you had your blessings from her and she leapt down our throats for not accepting it for ourselves."

"You... You didn't harm anyone right?" Duncan pleaded.

Maker forbid that they caused anyone harm. Duncan would have his head chewed off.

"She's fine." Epona rolled her eyes. "If I had been alone on the other hand without Narascha it might have turned out differently."

"I'm good at keeping the peace." Narascha grinned.

"You broke her arm!" Ser Jory screeched.

No. No. No. No-

"It was just her hand. She should be grateful," Narascha said.

Duncan fought off the urge to scream. "Why?" he asked, through gritted teeth.

"She slapped Epona."

That explained it.

"And because Epona isn't feeling well I dealt with it." Narascha growled. "Hitting a Grey Warden, how stupid are topsiders? Such disrespect. We'd have taken off that hand back home-"

"But we're not in Orzammar, and thus things are different," Duncan said softly. "But she shouldn't have hit Epona, and I am glad you stood up for your comrade. But please, don't break anyone's hand."

Epona and Narascha shared a look. He had no idea what that look meant, but Duncan had the horrible feeling it wasn't good.

For him, or his sanity.

"We'll try our best." Narascha grinned.

That wasn't helpful.

"But we're also now heathens," Narascha added in helpfully. "And the Maker is going to smite us."

He was too old for this.

"Cobian tried to explain it earlier, but I didn't really understand it," Torph said. "Why are Grey Wardens not worshipped here? The dwarves actually built them a mansion back in Orzammar in the royal bit with statues and everything."

"Yes, we have each of the Grey Warden heroes who ended the Blight carved into statues." Narascha nodded, smiling warmly. "It's beautiful."

"Due to the amount of darkspawn that died during the Fourth Blight people believed that the darkspawn were depleted and that there will be no more Blights," Duncan explained. "But the real problem was when a Grey Warden-Commander tried to seize the throne of Ferelden. Due to her actions our Order was banished from Ferelden for a very long time. We were only recently welcomed back."

"Whoa, topsiders are idiots. Just take a look at Orzammar, you'll surely hear about the darkspawn quick enough." Torph rolled his eyes.

"It's like the Archdemon knew to attack here." Narascha grimaced. "Ferelden obviously has the lowest amount of Grey Wardens due to that incident."

"It can't be that smart, can it?" Torph asked, hesitant.

"The first Archdemon nearly destroyed Thedas last time," Narascha said softly. "They know where and when the strike. And sometimes when I tried to study them, I feel like they were war leaders of their own right. Some of the tactics the darkspawn used were complex."

Duncan withheld a sigh, and strengthened his resolve. He had to, he was the leader here. He had to be strong for the kids. "I won't lie to you. This will be hard, but if we stick together, the Grey Wardens will defeat this."

"We've done so before," Narascha agreed. "We can do it again."

"Even if it sounds terrifying," Faren said, wincing. "I really don't want to face a dragon. I don't think I have a big enough dagger for that."

"Me neither." Daveth shook his head.

"I don't want any of my newest Grey Wardens fighting an Archdemon either," Duncan agreed. Maker no. They were so young, and their lives were about to be short enough. No, it was his responsibility, his and his generation.

They had to lead the way and fight. He would do his best to protect them.

"You seem to be deep in discussion." Ciara smiled as she approached, Lawrien and Alistair trailed behind them, pinching one another.

Everyday Alistair looked more and more like Maric. And it hurt so much, but it was good too. He'd accept that pain for even just a little more time. Lawrien caught his eye though. She had her head tilted at him, puzzling him out, so Duncan smiled.

"Ah, there you are, Alistair. I take it you've finished sassing the mages?" Duncan tutted.

Lawrien laughed. "Oh that guy is always cranky. He never smiles!"

Ciara smiled. "He has always been rather angry, however you were both deliberately antagonising him."

"I-I'm sorry, Duncan." Alistair winced. "The Revered Mother told me to deliver a message. The way she wields guilt she should be in the army."

"It could work," Ciara said, amused.

"Be that as it may, we cannot afford to antagonise anyone here, our position is weak enough as it is," Duncan warned. "It was only King Maric's generosity that allowed us back into Ferelden."

"Good thing too, with the Blight and everything," Alistair chuckled. "So, what now, Duncan?"

"Now? You are going out to the Kocari Wilds with the new recruits," Duncan said. "You will need to gather vials of darkspawn blood, one for each of the recruits. Lawrien will be accompanying you."

Daveth cried out, his face instantly drained of colour. "No. We can't. We can't, that's where the witches are!"

"That's the home of Asha'bellanar!" Epona bristled. "We cannot disturb her!"

Oh no, they can drive him crazy in camp, but the moment he tries to send them out into the forest it's all gasps of horror.

"Oh, Uncle Maric met a witch there once," Cobian said cheerfully, and that only made Daveth and Epona panic more. No, why? Why did Cobian have to bring that up?

"My cure could be in there," Epona said. "But never mind. I'm going to die here now."

Daveth nodded shakily. "Fuck, there could be gold in there and I still wouldn't go in."

"Huh, maybe these witches will deal with the darkspawn then?" Narascha asked. "Early retirement anyone?"

"Yes!" Daveth and Epona both yelled.

"What the heck is a Bellarar?" Torph blinked, baffled.

"A banana?" Lawrien asked.

"No, whatever the elf said." Torph paused. "But I dunno what a banana is either."

"It's a long, yellow thing. Sometimes green. It's gross when it's green."

"Huh."

Duncan groaned. Maybe he should let them face the Archdemon.

"And what am I to do, Commander?" Ciara asked.

Thank the Maker for Ciara, even if she had that amused twinkle in her eyes.

"You will be assisting me. I need messages run to the others at camp," Duncan said, before glaring at the rest. "You need those blood vials and you need a chance to test yourselves against the darkspawn before tonight's battle."

"It's not the darkspawn I'm worried about," Epona complained.

"We might get put in pots!" Daveth cried.

"Pots?" Faren paled. "They're gonna eat us?"

Maker give him strength.

"We'll kick the witches asses!" Narascha grinned, then paused. "Unless they set us on fire first?"

"Fucking witches," Torph groaned.

"They might even turn us into toads!" Daveth sobbed.

Narascha froze. "Ah, nothing in my training as a warrior covered being turned into a toad."

"Toads?" Faren cried.

"Maybe we'll get you a little axe and you can go hopping at darkspawn," Torph joked.

"They'll never see me coming." Narascha grinned.

"Oh, that sounds like a great idea! Ambush them!" Lawrien laughed.

Duncan needed a holiday. A long one. If he was lucky maybe the Archdemon would come down and offer its head for Duncan to stab. That would be fantastic.

.::.

Torph had to admit, this was fucked up. Duncan had sent them into the forest where there were witches who turned folk into toads and put them in a pot, also said forest was filled with darkspawn who probably want to eat their faces. Daveth was staying put in the middle of them all, daggers locked in his hands. Faren, bless him, was trying to distract him, but it was no use. Torph made a mental note not to startle Daveth.

He'd probably get stabbed.

Epona was muttering prayer after prayer beneath her breath, but Torph understood none of it. Nah, what worried him was that she was shaky again, and growing paler by the minute.

"Alistair, was it?" Cobian smiled.

"Yep, that's me. The handsome Grey Warden." Alistair grinned.

"He also thinks he's funny," Ciara teased.

"Of course, dear lady, I'm hilarious." Alistair winked. "But how can I help you, Lord Cobian?"

Torph saw Ser Jory paused thoughtfully.

"Oh, no need for that." Cobian waved his hands. "We'll be brothers in arms soon. No, I was wondering, you looked familiar, but I cannot place your face. I've been going through everyone I know, but it's frustrating me."

Alistair threw up his hands, panicked. "Oh no, definitely not! I was a former Templar, y'know, maybe we saw each other in passing once, but nothing more I'd guess."

Ciara chortled. "Why are you panicking?"

The panic subsided a bit, replaced with sarcasm instead, though Torph could see the nerves kicking in, making Alistair jittery. "Maybe he's another sneaky mage. That's always worth a bit of panic."

Lawrien looked baffled. "But you're worried that he thinks you look like-"

Alistair elbowed her sharply, earning a yelp.

"Nope!" Alistair laughed, nervously.

Cobian nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, subject does not wish for me to know-"

"Subject?" Alistair paused.

Cobian was scribbling furiously into his notebook.

"Wait... Why are you studying me?" Alistair asked suspiciously. "You're not actually a sneaky mage, right?"

"I'm one of the only mages you know, and I'm not sneaky at all," Lawrien said.

"No, you're about as subtle as a brick through a window. Although maybe I should say fireball."

"I did burn down that shop..." Lawrien shifted guilty.

Wait. What?

"Duncan had to pay for all of that." Alistair smirked. "You're going to make him cry one day."

"Myra did warn him." Lawrien grinned.

.::.

Faren froze when he heard a blood curling scream. Lawrien did not. No, she charged. Their mage was charging. Alistair groaned, but followed after her, Narascha on his heels and Cobian. Lawrien however had Faren's eyes locked, she burned through darkspawn, tossing them about with weird symbols on the ground, just genuinely causing havoc. And the entire time she had a wild grin upon her face.

"Watch out for their blood!" Alistair yelled.

Alistair's yell changed into a yelp when an arrow went narrowly flying past his head. Epona flushed again, even as Alistair screeched at her.

"PUT DOWN YOUR BOW, WOMAN!"

"No!" Epona scowled, but her cheeks were almost as red as her hair.

"Then please, please don't shoot anymore arrows at least!" Alistair cried.

Epona shifted awkwardly. "I might be able to compromise on that..."

Faren vowed not to get in front of her until she got her cure. Torph's curse caught his attention though just as the fight died down, and Faren froze, bile lurching up his throat, before he shakily forced it back down. It burned his throat, but it was nothing compared to what lay in front of them.

A whole patrol of soldiers lay before them, torn apart and bleeding all over the grass. There were slippery patches that made him want to vomit again. Poor Ser Jory was dry heaving away from them while Daveth patted his back. Narascha however didn't seem much troubled, as if she was used to the carnage.

Her eyes were hard as she marched about, scouting the area before nodding, satisfied. "There are none waiting to ambush us."

Alistair blinked. "How?"

"I am a warrior of Orzammar. We're trained to look out for darkspawn ambushes." Narascha crossed her arms.

"Fair point." Alistair nodded. "Yeah, the rest of the darkspawn are further out."

Faren heard a whimper and spotted an injured soldier crawling their way, blood trailing along the ground behind him. Epona who wavered on her feet and was far too pale for her tanned skin, stumbled to his side and dropped to her knees beside him.

"I've found a shemlen." Epona called out, her voice hoarse, her hand shook around her bow. "We might need to put him out his misery."

"No!" Alistair raced to her side, pulling out his medical pack. "He can be treated!"

"We're wasting time." Epona scowled, drawing her dagger, but Alistair slapped it out of her hand, shaking his head.

"I didn't realise you had anything special planned, you murder happy elf," Alistair said dryly, even as Faren leaned down to help.

"I would like to be as far away from this forest before we run into Asha'bellanar."

That wasn't just it though. She was growing paler by the minute, her hands shaky and legs trembling under her weight. Epona's condition was getting worse.

"Agreed!" Daveth said urgently. "I think that is the best plan."

"Who...Is that...?" The man croaked out weakly, still trying to push himself forward, even as Faren stilled him. "...Soldiers...? Grey Wardens...?"

"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks now is he?" Alistair drawled, trying to lighten up the tension.

Epona grunted. "Shemlens."

"Poor fucks." Torph shook his head.

"The topsiders won't be used to such ambushes." Narascha grimaced. "Or fighting darkspawn in general."

"I'm not exactly used to it either," Torph admitted. "I fought more deepstalkers than anything."

"And other dwarves?" Narascha smirked.

Torph grinned. "A few snobby folk, aye."

"I-I need to report..." The poor man slurred, even as Faren stood back up, stretching his legs. Daveth automatically approached him, wrapping an arm over his shoulder and leaning on him, hands still locked on his daggers.

Faren patted his shoulder reassuringly.

Alistair eyed Epona. "I suggest some of us help get this guy back to the camp."

If looks could kill Alistair would be on fire.

"You're getting worse!" Alistair insisted defensively. "You should take the vials back to Duncan."

"I'll make sure they get back safely," Daveth volunteered. "Coming back, Faren?"

"I'll be fine here." Faren smiled.

"Alright, but don't get eaten, otherwise I'll have to explain it to the others." Daveth eased himself off of Faren's side and went to the injured soldier. "Up you go." He hefted the man up, letting him lean against his side.

"I'll go with these three then, make sure no one collapses or finds a witch." Torph snorted.

Nara rolled her eyes. "You just want an excuse not to walk."

"Well I hate walking, Princess, too used to Orzammar's simple streets. Not these stupid hills."

"You stay safe, alright, Faren?" Daveth insisted.

"You worry too much," Faren chuckled. "I'll be fine. I have plenty of warriors to shield me."

Daveth paused. "Fair point."

The four began to head off, Epona stubbornly refusing any help as Daveth mostly carried the soldier along who seemed too weak to walk on his own.

"I know that man..." Ser Jory mumbled out, looking much paler than he had been than when they had left. "He left with a squad of seasoned soldiers and they were all killed? By darkspawn?"

"Calm down, Ser Jory," Alistair urged. "As long as we're careful we'll be fine."

"These men were careful and they were still slaughtered." Ser Jory shuddered.

Lawrien remained quiet, instead she was looking over the soldiers much to his surprise, her hands digging through their pockets. Faren faltered, she wasn't really... He saw her do it to the next corpse and gaped. Alistair seemed to notice too because he groaned.

"Again, Lawrien?"

"What? They don't need their stuff."

"Stop looting people! Especially the darkspawn! You don't know what they've done to that stuff."

"I'm selling it."

The pair continued on but it was Narascha who drew Faren away from the bickering pair. Nara was trying to calm Ser Jory down who was growing paler and paler by the second.

"You need to make up your mind quickly. This is our test to see if we can handle the Darkspawn, so if you can't handle this you can't be a Grey Warden," Narascha said sharply, her eyes narrowing. "This is pretty much an everyday occurrence for us in the Deep Roads."

"Are things that dire?" Ser Jory asked, paling further. Faren had no idea how he hadn't passed out by now.

"These beasts die like any man on a sword," Narascha said. "And I suppose by any mage's magic, Lawrien seemed to be rather effective at burning them."

"I think she was just angry." Alistair shrugged, having given up on trying to stop Lawrien. "She really doesn't like darkspawn. Never have found out why, they seem so nice."

"I'm no coward," Ser Jory snapped, his expression tense. "But this is reckless and foolish, we should go back."

"I doubt Duncan will be happy if we went back and told him we were too scared to continue. Future Grey Wardens unable to kill darkspawn will make for a very wrong profession. Fear is reasonable, but must not interfere in protecting Thedas, otherwise all will be lost," Cobian said.

Faren nodded. "Yeah, and I really can't quit now, otherwise I'm never going back to Denerim."

"Why is that?" Ser Jory asked.

"We murdered an Arl-" Lawrien blurted out.

"Stop telling people that!" Faren cried.

Ser Jory blanched.

"Look, Lawrien and I are here to make sure the darkspawn don't overwhelm us, and apparently murderous elves too." Alistair eyed him, and so all Faren could do was offer a sheepish shrug. "But yes, we'll warn you if they get too close, or Lawrien will warn you when she sets something on fire. That's her kind of thing."

"See? We'll be fine." Narascha replied, gesturing deeper into the forest. "Can we go now?"

She headed off without another word, her axe tightly gripped in hand. Lawrien followed along happily, her satchel full. Faren blinked at it, and wondered how many valuables Lawrien actually managed to find among all the carnage.

.::.

The scrolls they had been looking for weren't there. Faren sighed at the wasted effort and looked around. Narascha lifting up broken down book shelves, dragging them aside and gazing through the rubble, but it was Lawrien who caught his attention. She stared deep out into the forest, looking almost nervous. Alistair went over to her side, frowning heavily.

"Lawrien?"

"There's something..." Lawrien hesitated before shaking her head. "No... Someone powerful out here..."

"Uh, is that the Asha woman Epona mentioned?" Faren asked softly.

Cobian looked wary but he drew his sword in a flash once they heard a chuckle. It came from a beautiful smirking lady with dark hair who descended the leftover stairs. She strolled their way, oozing confidence while Faren paled.

She came out of nowhere. She was probably a witch like Daveth had said. Oh no, he didn't want to be turned into a toad! Uncle Kerth would never forgive him, and Faren didn't want to be put into a pot and made into soup. Faren stumbled back, placing Narascha in front of him who threw him a betrayed look. Lawrien pushed her way to the front, Alistair on her heels.

"Is she the one you mentioned?" Alistair asked quietly.

"No."

"My, what have we here? Are you vultures coming to rummage through corpses whose bones have long since been picked clean? Or are you merely intruders? Coming to these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" Witch lady asked, a coy smile on her lips as she strolled through their gathered group, nonchalant by the weapons aimed at her.

Faren couldn't help but wonder how she wasn't cold, he was cold. He was cold and wearing lots of leather while she only wore old, torn rags.

By the Maker now wasn't the time to think about that!

"Who are you?" Narascha asked.

"I asked first. Scavengers or intruders?"

"No one answer her," Alistair murmured to them, his sword partially drawn, his eyes remained steadily on her. "She looks Chasind, and that means other's could be nearby."

"Chasind are bad I take it?" Narascha asked warily.

"They never travel alone."

The woman chuckled. "Do you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes, swooping is bad."

"Yes, we could be surrounded," Cobian added in. "Then have everything we own stolen off us, including our clothes. I have to admit going back to camp naked would be a little embarrassing, but we'd first have to worry about catching an illness or getting into another fight. Darkspawn would surely kill us if we're unarmed and naked."

"Maybe they'd laugh themselves to death first," Narascha snorted.

"She's here to help." Lawrien lowered her staff. The witch looked startled by that, but quickly eased her face back out into a smooth, easy-going confidence.

"What?" Alistair gaped. "The sneaky witch thief?"

"Please don't make her mad. I don't fancy being turned into a frog by a witch of the wilds." Ser Jory winced.

"My, such idle fancies those tales are." The mage shook her head, seemingly amused. "Have you no minds of your own? You, blonde girl, what is your name?"

"I'm Lawrien Amell." Lawrien tilted her head. "But you already know who we are. Not our names, but you know what we're here for. You're just playing."

"You are an interesting one." The witch smiled, a sharp smile. "How curious. But, you may call me Morrigan."

Alistair drew his sword. "She's playing? So she stole the treaties then! She really is a sneaky witch thief!"

"That's not it," Lawrien cut in. "Her mother has them."

Morrigan was taken aback. "How did you-"

"I'm an empath," Lawrien offered, glancing over at Alistair whose frown deepened. "She's here to lead us at her mother's behest."

"And you want to follow her?"

"Yeah."

"Can you lead us to her?" Cobian asked. "I know it might be strange, leading several armed strangers to your home, but if your mother is who I suspect she is then I doubt she's going to care much. No, perhaps laugh, or make a deal, or find a deal to make-"

"You're also a curious one," Morrigan mused. "And a sensible one, of course I'll led you to her. Wherever you come back alive or not is another thing however."

Wait, what? That wasn't good! That wasn't good at all! Faren shook his head nervously, and Ser Jory grimaced.

Morrigan turned on her heel and began walking. "Come, follow me."

Faren really didn't want to. He should have went with Daveth.

"Be careful, first it's 'I like you', then it's 'zap' and frog time," Alistair deadpanned.

Faren blanched. He didn't want to be a frog.

.::.

This wasn't good. If Uncle Maric was alive he'd panic, in fact if Cailan was here he'd be panicking right now. Uncle Loghain would hiss at them following a suspicious lady into the unknown. But if Flemeth wanted a meeting, then she would get her meeting. There didn't seem to be much point in denying her, and if by some chance this wasn't Flemeth, then thank the Maker!

But with the way their luck was going recently, it was Flemeth, with a pet dragon ready to eat them all. The chances of being ambushed by a dragon were slim, they should be able to see a dragon from a mile away, but still.

Uncle Maric had told him about Flemeth years ago, a more child-like version as Cobian had only been little, little enough to sit upon Anora's lap. The story had made Cobian's heart pound, and Cailan and Fergus refused to sleep in the dark for weeks. Uncle Loghain had been forced to search all their rooms for any witches hiding in the wardrobe or under their bed (even Anora's, who had been the fearless one out of them all.)

He hadn't expected the small, almost run-down, wooden hut with an elderly lady standing outside of it. She looked like any other human but it was the eyes that gave her away. They were more cunning than anything he had ever seen.

"Greetings, Mother!" Morrigan called out. "I bring you Grey Wardens who-"

"I see them, girl." Her gaze went to everyone, but seemed to linger the longest on both Alistair and Lawrien. "Hm, much as I expected, despite the few who are missing."

Alistair sounded amused. "Are we supposed to believe that you were expecting us?"

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe," Flemeth huffed. "Shut ones eyes tight, or open ones arms wide, it does not matter, either way one is a fool."

"Why do you already know me?" Lawrien's brow furrowed. "You were already expecting me, and Epona, and Ciara, but how?"

Flemeth, because this was definitely Flemeth, only seemed like a logical conclusion. She knew of Epona and Ciara, Ciara who had not even been in the forest. Flemeth's gaze softened, but she only sighed, shaking her head.

"You're thinking too much. Don't."

Lawrien bit her lip. "It's confusing. You're confusing. Why? No, she is why you're confusing and angry, but hopeful? No, he's hopeful, no, you're hopeful for him..." Lawrien hissed, dragging her hands through her hair. "What is wrong with you? Seriously, get your feelings under control, damn you! Stop feeling weird and making me feel weird!"

Cobian saw Faren, Ser Jory and Alistair all take a step back from her. Lawrien who looked ready to whack Flemeth with her staff.

Flemeth cackled. "You're as entertaining as ever, Lawrien Amell!"

"I will set you on fire-" Lawrien bristled, raising her staff, but Alistair dragged her back with a cry. "Let go, I'll murder her!"

"No! She's just an old woman!" Alistair cried. "I'm so sorry about her-"

"I'm not!" Lawrien spat, clubbing Alistair with her staff. "Put me down!"

"Ow! Stop it-"

"And these are our heroes." Flemeth grinned. "As amusing as ever."

"You seem to know a lot of heroes," Cobian said, and Flemeth paused and smiled warmly at him.

"Hello, little Cousland."

Cobian tilted his head. "I'm not short? Or that short. In comparison to some people I am rather tall, but that is due to race rather than heritage-"

"You're all annoying me!" Lawrien yelled. "Stop freaking everyone out!"

Flemeth laughed. "I would be surprised if they weren't, child!"

"Please stop! Don't make her mad if she's a witch," Ser Jory warned the blonde.

"Are witches any different from mages?" Narascha asked, raising an eyebrow.

Flemeth grinned wolfishly. "A Witch of the Wilds? Morrigan must have told you that. How she fancy such tales!"

"Mother," Morrigan growled softly, her cheeks flushed. "They did not come for idle tales, or your questions."

"Ah yes, they came for their treaties did they not?" Flemeth smirked as she slipped her hand into her bag, pulling out a set of scrolls. "And before you begin barking, I have been protecting these."

Alistair instantly closed his mouth at that, stunned. "Oh... You've been protecting them?"

"And why wouldn't I?" Flemeth laughed. "The wards fell so I took them under my care."

"She can't fix a Blight, duh..." Lawrien grumbled, slumping in Alistair's grasp.

Alistair sighed, and dropped her. Lawrien cursed, sprawled on the ground, and Alistair yelped when she tackled his legs, dragging him down with her. Cobian blinked. Rough housing at a time like this? Perhaps it was a way to relief stress, or training? Or an emotional reaction typical of Lawrien herself. That would be something to add to the notes.

"Little Cousland, here." Flemeth handed him the notes. "I believe you'll guard them carefully."

Cobian marvelled at the treaties. The scrolls were old and beautiful, hardly worn despite the ages they must have been through.

"Don't bite me!" Alistair hissed.

"Let me go!"

"You're not hitting an old woman-"

"I won't-"

"Liar!"

Ser Jory looked ready to cry, or give up. Cobian wasn't sure which one. Faren looked amused though. Morrigan just looked baffled.

"Give your Commander a message with those," Flemeth said, eyeing the scrolls. "This Blight's threat is greater than they realised."

"I'm sure he will be eager to act on that," Narascha said.

"Indeed, tell me girl, are you satisfied with the way you left things back home?"

Narascha tilted her head. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Do you not wish revenge on your brother? On your father? The pair who threw you away like you were mere dirt? Or are you satisfied with your place now?"

Narascha faltered. "How-"

"I know many things."

Narascha shifted, clearly uncomfortable before sighing heavily. "I believe I can do more as a Grey Warden... But I regret how it lead to this point..." Narascha then raised her eyes to the old woman's, suspiciously. "Why? What is it to you?"

"Oh nothing at all, child. You have your answers!"

"Possibly already ones you know, Flemeth," Cobian mused.

"And how much did former King Maric tell you about me, little Cousland?" Cobian kept his face carefully blank, to be honest his uncle hadn't said much about the Witch of the Wilds, or at least anything useful. Just made sure to instil terror in their hearts with how scary and powerful she was. And that under no circumstance should they wander deep into the Kocari Wilds.

Oops.

"You've guessed already. Logical conclusion considering he had died years ago, so by those calculations I would have been rather young-"

Flemeth laughed. "Your family is as delightful as ever, aren't they?"

Cobian paused, pondering for a moment, but then remembered. Flemeth and the Cousland family had some history, if the legends were true. How interesting. Were they always so delightful or was Flemeth merely being polite? No, didn't seem like the type to bother faking politeness, then perhaps she really did like his family?

"Enough!" Alistair leapt back up to his feet, dragging Lawrien up and putting her in a headlock, earning a kick. "We need to go. We've got the treaties, and now we got to go get Epona her cure-"

Cobian didn't miss Flemeth's wince. Her eyes filled with pain, before her face smoothed back out into amusement. Faren hadn't missed it either, he threw Cobian a warning look.

Yes, true, probably not a good idea to challenge Flemeth with emotional questions.

"Yes, yes, don't mind me!" Flemeth purred, already waving them off with a hand. "You have what you came for."

"Time for you to go then." Morrigan smirked.

Her mother huffed. "Girl, these are your guests."

"Very well then..." Morrigan sighed, already stomping towards them with a huff. "Come along then, Grey Wardens."

Lawrien hissed as Alistair dragged her along, but Cobian ignored it. He had so many questions to ask Morrigan. So many. He might even need a new notebook!