The sound of screaming woke me and I sat bolt upright in bed. My bed, I realised. I was home.
"It was all just a dream?" I whispered in the dark stillness of my bedroom, and the darkness did not reply. Heavy footsteps approached my bedroom and my door was wrenched open. My dad poked his head in.
"Lauren, it's five thirty in the morning. What are you screaming about?" He asked, angrily. I opened my mouth to reply when an overwhelming sense of déjà vu struck me. This had happened before…and if Ostagar had been a dream – it had seemed so real – maybe that meant…
"Emily." I said, softly. He blinked at me in frustration.
"She's fine, she's asleep…was asleep, she probably isn't any more with your screaming! That racket would wake the dead!"
I threw myself out of bed and slipped past him into the hallway, closing the gap to Emily's bedroom in two bounds. I wrenched the door open, slammed my palm on the light switch and stopped dead in my tracks. There she was, sitting upright in bed, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
"Emily!" I choked out a sob of disbelief.
"Are you cracked? It's the middle of the night." She groaned. A peal of laughter escaped my lips and I threw myself into bed with her, clutching her to me, sobbing and laughing. "What the actual…?"
"You're alive." I whispered.
"Obviously." She said, flippantly, although I thought I detected a hint of alarm in her voice. "Although if you squeeze any harder oxygen might become a problem. What's going on, crazy?"
"I'm sorry." I laughed, sitting back to look at her. I brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and held her face in my hands. "I had the worst nightmare. It was so real, Em…but it doesn't matter. You're here. I love you so much, Emily."
She smiled at me, and a tear ran down her face. I laughed again, wiping it away.
"Why are you crying?" I asked, shaking my head.
"I had the strangest dream..." She said, in a far-off voice. I ran a hand through her hair again and my fingers came into contact with something hot and wet. I frowned, drawing my hand back reflexively. Blood dripped from my fingers and I cried out in alarm, looking into my sister's eyes for answers, but there were none; no answers, and no eyes – just empty, black sockets embedded in grey, rotting flesh.
"Did you think this was real?" She asked, sadly. I screamed, falling backwards into nothingness.
And then I woke up again, with a start. My heart pounded in my ears but I let out a small sigh of relief. Just a dream. I pushed myself into a sitting position and realised I was in the same bed I'd woken up in yesterday. Of course I would wake up here. The events of last night's battle came flooding back to me and I scrambled to my feet, realising as I did so that someone, probably Flemeth, had stripped me down to my underwear. I looked around, catching sight of my armour piled up on a nearby chair and started to dress quickly. I had just finished buckling the last of the straps when the door to Flemeth's hut creaked open. Alistair stood in the doorway with the sun at his back so that he almost seemed to glow as the rays reflected off of his armour. Our eyes met and my heart sank when I realised he had been crying.
"You're awake." He said, softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He walked over and took a seat on the edge of the bed I had slept in. He offered me a water skin and I accepted it, gratefully, sitting down beside him.
"Grayson?" I enquired, nervously. He nodded.
"He's outside, speaking with that Morrigan woman. How are you feeling?"
"How am I feeling?" I repeated, in a hoarse voice. I took a deep swig of water. It had an earthy, metallic taste but it was cool and wet and I hadn't had anything to drink since before the battle. I gulped it down, greedily, until the skin was empty and handed it back to him. "Can we start with an easier question, please?"
"How much do you remember?" He asked gently, studying my face.
"I remember fighting an ogre. I remember running my blade through it's neck and falling to the ground with it. And then the darkspawn were everywhere. On top of me, kicking and grabbing. I lost my sword, I couldn't get away." I looked down at my fingernails, ragged and bloodied, and steeled myself against the memory of trying to claw at the stone floor as they dragged me away. "And then I...think I must have hit my head or something. That's the last thing I remember." I finished, quietly. I sighed, massaging my throbbing temples. "What happened, Alistair? The battle, did we...?"
He half-smiled, and it was a terrible, bleak thing.
"Flemeth rescued us from the tower. She won't say how but at this point, I don't really care. The battle was lost. The army was overrun by the darkspawn. There were survivors, some regiments who were able to pull back before it was too late but..." He trailed off, clearing his throat gruffly.
"The king? The Wardens?" I asked, desperately. He shook his head.
"Gone." He replied, in a hollow voice.
"Alistair..." I started, but he kept his head down, unable to meet my eyes. "I'm so sorry. I really thought if I just told Duncan what I knew...I'm so sorry. Are you...?" I didn't know how to finish the question. What? Is he okay? I wasn't okay, I knew he definitely wasn't.
"Thank you, Lauren. I'll be fine." He took a deep, steadying breath. "How are you physically?"
I rolled my neck and shoulders, experimentally.
"I think I'm good. Time to leave?"
"I think so. Morrigan is joining us." He said, darkly. The bed creaked as he stood up and I followed suit. "We're setting off for the village of Lothering. I'll fill you in on the rest when we're on the road."
He turned to exit the hut and I reached out, gently touching his arm. He turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
"If you need to talk about...Duncan...I'm here for you." I said, softly.
"I appreciate that, Lauren." He said with small smile. "I'll be fine. I think I just need some time to think. Oh, and Flemeth asked to speak with you, when you woke. So...good luck with that."
He stepped out into the sunlight and I looked around, spotting my rucksack propped against a far wall and heaving it onto my shoulders. Outside the hut, Alistair and Grayson were deep in conversation and Morrigan stood a few feet away from them looking decidedly bored. Kahn spotted me and came bounding over, his stubby tail wagging furiously as he greeted me. I scratched his ears and he panted happily before trotting back to Grayson's side.
I smiled affectionately as I watched him and Grayson caught my eye, flashing me the smallest of grins. I looked around and saw Flemeth on the other side of the clearing. She stood with her back to me, seemingly deep in thought. I didn't relish the prospect of another cryptic conversation with the Witch of the Wilds, but she had saved my life and I thought that leaving without at least conveying my gratitude would be a slight she wouldn't forget. I approached her cautiously, as one might approach a venomous snake or, you know, a maleficar who could turn into a dragon on a whim.
"Flemeth." She didn't acknowledge me, but I knew she heard me. "Thank you for saving us. I only wish the others had been so fortunate."
"Lauren Duval." She rasped, turning to look at me. Her fierce yellow eyes studied me, calculatingly. "There isn't much time, so I shan't waste words. I know that you blame yourself for the events at Ostagar. This is a foolish waste of your energy. Do not carry it with you, or you will be crushed by the weight of it. You did not save the king or the Wardens because they were not supposed to be saved. Ferelden, on the other hand, must be. You would risk the future by dwelling too heavily on the past."
"What do you mean, they weren't supposed to be saved? How could you possibly know that?"
"I know it because they are dead." She snapped, irritably. "And a good thing too."
"How can you say that?" I asked, disgusted. She narrowed her yellow eyes and took a step towards me.
"I do not know the future, Lauren Duval, but I do know this. Death does not like to be cheated. When the scales are unbalanced, sooner or later they have a tendency to tip. Consider this, if you will. Imagine you had saved the king of Ferelden's life on the field yesterday. He was a good man, it is difficult to imagine his continued existence being anything other than good, yes?"
"That was the idea." I snapped. She smirked, slyly, and continued.
"Yes, but indulge me. Imagine then, that this good king sires a child who goes on to become the bloodiest tyrant this land has ever seen. These are the forces you meddle with when you attempt to change fate."
I blinked, taken aback. The butterfly effect...I hadn't even given it a thought. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but what Flemeth said made a great deal of sense...but that didn't mean I had to like it.
"Then why even send me to Ostagar? It was your idea! I told you my plan and you said nothing. You encouraged it!" I fumed.
"Allowing you to believe that your plan was not doomed from the start was the only way to convince you to go to Ostagar, and Ostagar was where you had to be. If you had not gone, you would not have become a Grey Warden and without the Joining ritual you would have been dead inside of a week, no matter which path you chose to take. I may not have your gift of prophecy but there are some things that I know without seeing. I sent you to Ostagar to save your life, because your life was meant to be saved." She said, simply. "And here you stand, alive and well, a testament to that."
"So...Duncan and the king were supposed to die because they're dead, and I was supposed to live because I'm alive...that just feels like you're mixing up correlation and causation." I said, crossing my arms huffily.
"Believe what you must. All that matters now is ending the Blight. Morrigan will be accompanying on your journey. Do you understand, child? In Morrigan, I give you that which I value above all else in this world. I do this because you must succeed."
"I understand."
"And I hope I don't have to tell you this, Lauren, but you possess knowledge that no person in this world should. Share only what you must. Knowing the future can inspire one to attempt to change it and you have already learned that this rarely works. This was a hard won lesson, one that I trust you will not forget."
"Okay. I'll try my best not to pull a Marty McFly on Ferelden." I promised.
"Pardon me?" She said, frowning. I shrugged.
"What? You're the only one who gets to talk in riddles?"
She threw her head back and cackled, gleefully.
"Oh you, I like. Now, off with you, before we all die of old age."
She ushered me towards the others, who gathered their packs together upon our approach.
"Off then?" Grayson asked, with a curt nod.
"Farewell, mother." Morrigan said, with a small smile. "Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut."
"Ha! 'Tis far likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight."
Morrigan recoiled, slightly.
"I...all I meant was..." She trailed off, uncharacteristically flustered. Flemeth softened.
"Yes, I know." She said, in a quiet voice. "Do try to have fun, dear."
AN: This wasn't a long chapter, but you can't say it wasn't speedy updating! [Pats self on back] I know Lauren seems to have lost her sense of humour in these last few chapters, but that's because people have died and stuff and it's difficult to find the funny side of "everyone is dead, fam". The next few chapters should be less dark and more fun...Lothering next! That means Sten and Leliana, both of whom I am so excited to write new dialogue for. I'm still a little rusty due to probably over a year of writing nothing at all (life) but I'm starting to get the feel for it again.
Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far, it gives me a better idea of what's working and what's not. Thanks for reading!