My first thought was that she was far more beautiful and far more terrifying than I had been prepared for. Her entire being radiated wild magic.

My second thought was that she was also a lot more naked than I remembered - there was no carefully arranged foliage protecting her modesty, and she was unashamed and confident in all her glory.

My third thought was that there were way more werewolves in the room than I had anticipated. If things went badly, we were all completely fucked.

My fourth thought was that that really should have been my first thought.

"Be welcome, Zathrian and friends." She spread her arms out in a gesture of peace as we slowly approached. Her voice was ethereal and gentle, with a subtle but undeniable undercurrent of power, like a still river with a deadly undertow.

Zathrian started towards her, and we followed close behind. When we were a little over six feet from the spirit, he froze. I moved to stand beside him and searched his face, nervously. His eyes darted between me and the spirit, hesitantly, and I could feel all of the weight of the consequences of his next move in the breath I was holding.

"You can do this." I whispered, encouragingly. He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again, swallowing roughly and bowing his head. I closed my eyes, swearing silently to myself. "You need a moment. It's okay if you need a moment. I'll…try to stall."

"How?" Alistair hissed over my shoulder, looking pointedly around the room full of furious werewolves.

"I'm making this up as I go now, remember?" I hissed back, as I forced my face into as pleasant a smile as I could muster with a hundred hungry eyes watching me and stepped forward before I could lose my nerve, trying to ignore the chorus of threatening growls that rose around me as I did.

"My Lady, this is the Grey Warden I spoke of." Swiftrunner panted, wildly. Every muscle in his body looked like it was quivering. I smiled, weakly at the nature spirit.

"Grey Warden?" She asked, approaching me with such light footsteps that she almost seemed to glide across the floor. "No…that is not what you are, Fade Child."

"They lie to us, Lady?" Swiftrunner snarled, crouching, his muscles coiling as he prepared to pounce. I felt Larry approach my side, hackles raised.

"Peace, Swiftrunner." The Lady of the Forest said, stilling him with a gentle hand in the same moment I curled my fingers in the fur on Larry's neck and whispered, "It's okay, boy."

Her eyes, glinting in the torch-lit glow of the chamber like twin black pools of oil, were fixed on mine. I felt them pulling me in, and for a moment I was sure I would drown in them if I lost my balance.

"Fascinating." She said, slowly tilting her head, appraising me with a curiosity that was somehow both intense and detached all at once. "Your nature is unlike anything I have known…it is as a memory of a dream from a time before I knew form. And yet, I sense no trace of the taint within you."

"I was a Grey Warden. I…they're Grey Wardens." I gestured behind me. "I apologise for the deception, I can only hope you believe me when I say it was unintentional." I tried to read something, anything, in her eyes, but they were dark, inscrutable mirrors. "It's a long story but this really isn't about me. We only came to escort Zathrian…" I waited for the mage to step forward, to say something, but he remained where he was, frozen and silent. I tried to turn back, to look at him, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from hers. "I think maybe he just needs a moment to gather himself." I said, with an anxious smile.

"Do not be afraid, Fade Child. You are welcome here." She said, in an airy timbre that might have been soothing, but her eyes and words unsettled me. "You are known. You are…kindred."

"Fade Child?" I heard Morrigan ask from behind me. I frowned at the curiosity in her voice - it unsettled me even more than the spirit did - Morrigan reliably ignored every word ever spoken in her presence by spirits and demons alike. This should be no different.

I made to step back, but my feet wouldn't move. Her eyes held me within them, and I felt frozen to the spot, as though held in place by invisible vines.

I felt my fingers twitch of their own volition as Valour awoke within me, seeming to sense the sudden fight-or-flight urge that gripped me. I swallowed the feeling, painfully aware of the precariousness of the situation. I had to stay calm, and if the spirit's cryptic words made me uncomfortable, I would just have to lean into the discomfort if it would hold her attention long enough to buy more time for Zathrian to collect himself. Having a strange, incomprehensible conversation with a spirit was probably a lot less uncomfortable than having my throat ripped out by the near-rabid werewolf behind her, I reasoned.

I took a deep, steadying breath, willing my frantic heart to stop racing.

"You fight on many fronts - without and within. You need not fight here, today." She said, gently. "I believe fate has led you here for a greater purpose, Fade Child."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I asked, frowning.

"That is what you are." She said, simply. "I felt your arrival. You called to me the moment you entered my forest."

"Did I? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you. Must have been, uh…a spiritual butt-dial, I guess." I leaned back, trying to create some distance between us, before realisation struck me. "I…oh. Is it this?"

I fished the Token of the Packmaster amulet out of my armour, and held it up to her, with an apologetic smile.

"Was it this that called to you?" I asked. "I'm sorry…I can take it off if it's bothering you."

Her eyes never left mine.

"Your trinket does not concern me, Fade Child." She said, with an eerie smile. Her face was completely unreadable, and her black, alien eyes seemed to be looking right through me. "How strange. I see so little of him in you, and yet your nature is undeniable. Your blood sings…it worries the air."

"What do you mean?" I asked, squinting into her eyes, gaining no insight from their unreadable depths. "What's wrong with my blood?"

"You do not know." She said, and her eyes flickered over me, sadly. "What you are…why you are here…how can that be?"

"If you're talking about my death, that's not what I am. It's just something that happened to me. I'm more than that." I said, insistently. I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.

"It is not your death that marks you, but your creation." She said, softly. "We are not so different, I think. Zathrian is my father." I sensed the mage shifting behind me, and I willed him to snap out of his reverie, to interrupt the spirit's rambling, but he remained where he was and she continued. "He gave me form, and bound me to the body of a dread wolf. Your father gave you form, and bound your broken half to another. Your other tethers you to this land as Witherfang tethers me."

"My father?" I scoffed, my sudden irritation at the spirit's cryptic words temporarily overriding the healthy level of fear that had kept my voice even until now. "Listen, Lady. I don't know what you think you're picking up from me, but you've got your wires crossed. If you want to talk about who "gave me form", I think my mother deserves most of the credit on that one - she made me from scratch. My father didn't so much "give me form" as he gave me a trust complex and abandonment issues. Your father is a vengeful blood-mage with ancient and powerful magic at his command. My father is an architect. We're not the same."

"An architect…" She seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding. "In a sense, yes."

"Alright. Well, this has been a fun conversation." I glowered. I wasn't sure if I had been rendered immobile by my fear or if she really had bound me, but whatever force had held me in place had dissipated, and I felt control of my limbs return to me. "But…right now, I'm just an errand girl. I've done my part so if you and Zathrian want to…crack on with things, I'll just..."

"Be still, Fade Child." She said, gently. "Zathrian hesitates. You have done well to bring him here. Now, we must allow him this moment to decide if vengeance or mercy will rule his heart today."

"Oh, no, he's not hesitating. Are you, Zathrian? You definitely wouldn't do that, would you? Not after the conversation we had not ten minutes ago." I growled, trying to keep the smile fixed on my face. I turned my head to the side, shooting him a sideways glare and snarling out of the corner of my mouth. "You remember? Your whole redemption arc? Last of the Grey Wardens, fate of the world, blight and ruin?"

Grayson coughed, and my companions moved closer to us at the unspoken signal, ushering Zathrian forwards. Alistair appeared at my shoulder, and Grayson approached my other side, with the mage in tow. Zathrian wrenched his arm out of Grayson's grip.

"Come on, man." I muttered to him. "Don't lose your nerve on me, now."

I studied his face, tensely, growing increasingly nervous when I saw the conflict raging in his eyes. He glanced from me to the Lady and his expression darkened.

"So here we are, spirit." He spat.

Swiftrunner growled and leapt forward, towering over the mage with barely restrained fury. I let out a small gasp of surprise when Alistair gripped my arm and yanked me behind him in one swift, decisive motion, repositioning us so that he was standing between me and the werewolf, protectively.

"She is the Lady of the Forest! You will address her properly!" He snapped, saliva dripping from his bared fangs. Zathrian seemed to tense slightly, but he otherwise gave no indication that he felt in any way threatened by the towering mass of fur and teeth looming over him. When he spoke, his voice was cool and condescending.

"Yes, I was informed that your pets have given you a name, spirit. Surprising…yet it changes nothing. They may not be mindless, but they are beasts, still - as wild and savage as their ancestors were."

"It is as I warned you, my Lady!" Swiftrunner snarled. "He has only come to harm you! He did not come here to end the curse!"

"No…I did. I thought…" Zathrian said, uncertainly, his demeanour shifting slightly as he appeared to hesitate again, before his glare hardened once more with renewed focus. "But I was a fool to listen to you, Warden." He muttered, not meeting my desperate, pleading eyes. "We both know how this ends, spirit. Your nature compels it…as does mine."

"I welcomed you here, Zathrian, because I believe it does not have to be this way. There is room in your heart for compassion." The spirit said, regarding him with a mixture of hope and sorrow. "Surely your retribution is spent."

"No." Zathrian growled. "My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain."

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not end the curse?" The spirit asked, with the ghost of an accusation in her voice. She looked from Zathrian to me. "Have you told the Fade Child how it was created?"

I shifted, uncomfortably, looking at Zathrian.

"I know that both of your lives will end with the curse, yes." I said, quietly. "But if self-preservation drove Zathrian, he wouldn't have come here. Can I…? Can we have a moment to talk?" I asked, desperately trying to find a way to save the situation from tumbling towards its inevitably bloody conclusion.

""I will hear nothing more from you, Warden." Zathrian said, coldly. "If you wish for my people to aid you against the Blight, then you will help me to put an end to this."

"That's what I've been trying to do." I said, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Will somebody start making sense, please?"

"No." He snapped. "You know what I must ask of you. You said it yourself, when we first spoke."

I frowned in confusion, before I realised what he was asking. He wanted Witherfang's heart to cure his people. I gaped at him. He couldn't be serious. There were at least fifty werewolves in this room. Even if I wanted to help him, which I didn't, we were outnumbered and surrounded on all sides.

"Well?" He demanded, urgently.

Before I could respond, Swiftrunner howled, frantically.

"They will betray you, My Lady! We must kill him! We must kill them all!"

"You see, Warden? They turn on you just as swiftly." Zathrian sneered. Alistair's hand drifted to his hip and I watched his fingers curl around the hilt of his sword, and I looked up to see Grayson reach for his own weapon, watching the scene with baited breath. "What would you gain by killing me? Only I know how the ritual ends…and I will never end it."

"The curse will not end with Zathrian's death." The spirit said, turning her gaze back to me. "His life, however, relies on its existence. I believe his death plays a part in its ending."

"Then we kill him!" Swiftrunner raged. "We tear him apart now!"

The chamber filled with growls of agreement, and I closed my eyes, sagging in disappointment. I had really started to believe that things could be different.

I had been wrong, Zathrian was too far gone. He had existed for revenge for too long, he didn't know how to be anything more than he was. I had been an idiot to think I knew better. This was a powder keg and I had walked into it carrying an open flame of a man as if I was here to save the day. All I had managed to achieve was to endanger the lives of the only people in the world that I cared about.

I felt the beginnings of something like despair, but it morphed so suddenly into pure, unbridled fury that I didn't have time to catch my breath, and I felt a roar rip through my chest as I sprung forward, knocking Alistair aside. He moved to grab me again but I knocked his hand away, slicing my fingertips on the sharp edges of his gauntlet, and I hurled myself into the space between Zathrian and Swiftrunner.

"Enough!" I shoved a hand into each of their chests and channelled my rage into mana, pushing them both back with force magic. It was instinctive - the power surged from me before I even had time to form the thought to call on it. I had attempted a mind-blast during my training with Morrigan but the most I had succeeded in doing was ruffling her hair, and I couldn't even have been sure that that wasn't just the wind.

I didn't have time to congratulate myself, though. Zathrian staggered backwards, but maintained his footing, and his staff was in his hand in an instant as he crouched in a defensive posture, and Swiftrunner landed on all fours beside the spirit, snarling in shock and anger.

"Enough." I repeated, still holding my hands up to keep them both back. The force barriers I had conjured weren't strong enough to prevent an attack from either one of them, but I meant them more as an invitation to parley than as any meaningful defence. I looked from one to the other, before locking eyes with the werewolf.

"Zathrian didn't have to come here. He came here to do the right thing. He could have just cut his losses and run but he came, anyway. He did the difficult thing."

I turned to Zathrian.

"The werewolves could have slaughtered your entire clan and repaid your vengeance with their own. They didn't. They're angry and their natures are savage, but they led us here and now you have a chance to put an end to all of this suffering - for both of you. They're doing the difficult thing, too."

I let the barriers fade and dropped my arms by my sides, with a hopeless shrug, turning back to the Lady of the Forest, who was watching me with an unreadable expression on her beautiful, terrifying face.

"This isn't our fight. We have no enemies here. Our enemy is out there. And it's great, and terrible, and hungry, and it's coming for all of us. So if you want to tear each other apart, then go ahead. None of you will ever be free. You'll never know peace. So, you do what you think you have to do, but I'm taking my people out of here." I looked from the spirit to Zathrian. "I'm sorry. I thought I could help you. I wanted you to find a better way. I hoped…but there's no cure for polio, is there?" I smirked, ruefully, shaking my head, and turned to Grayson

He nodded, in understanding.

"Come on." He turned to the others. "We've done all we can here. We should let the Dalish know that we couldn't save their people."

I didn't wait for a response from any of them. I turned from the spirit and her werewolves, despite every survival instinct in my body screaming at me not to turn my back to them, and I brushed past Zathrian, striding towards the door with as much confidence as I could muster, with my companions close behind me.

"Wait!" I stopped walking and almost collapsed to the floor in relief when Zathrian spoke, but I forced myself to act naturally. I fixed my face into a passive expression and turned back to him, but he was still facing the Lady of the Forest. "Wait." He said again, in a tired, defeated voice.

The spirit started to approach him, reaching a hand out to him.

"No, my Lady!" Swiftrunner snarled. "We must kill him! We must end him now before he turns on us again!"

"No, Swiftrunner. We will not kill him." The spirit said, in a calming voice. Her words were infused with power, and I felt my own shoulders relax when her voice washed over me. "If there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how may we expect there to be room in his?"

"My heart does not know mercy, spirit. It has known only hatred and vengeance for so long…but perhaps…it has been too long. This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root. It has consumed my soul." He said, bowing his head in shame. I breathed a small sigh of relief when I recognised his words. "What of you, spirit? You are bound to the curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

"You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life." The spirit smiled, sadly. "Yet of all the things I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you, maker. Put an end to me. We beg you…show mercy."

"You…shame me, spirit. I am…an old man, alive long past his time." Zathrian crumpled, lowering his staff and bowing his head.

"Then you will do it?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You will end the curse?"

"Yes, I think it is time. Let us…let us put an end to it all."

I took a deep breath, moving to stand beside Alistair again as I watched the scene unfold, as it should have done. The best-case scenario. We had taken the scenic route, but we were here.

AN: Chapters 74 and 75 were originally one long ass chapter, but I've split them up a bit for your convenience. Let me know if you all have a preference for longer or shorter chapters - I know that the way I consume fanfiction is usually on my phone while I'm commuting, so I prefer shorter chapters because it helps me to bookmark where I am. If you prefer longer ones, let me know! I wish there was an in-built polling feature on here...wait, is there? It's been four years, Idk what I'm doing lol

My doctor has prescribed me fanfiction reviews for my dopamine-starved brain, so please review because it's medically necessary okay

Judy: Thank you! I appreciate the regular doses of validation - keep them coming!

Playerovic: Man, I feel your pain. I got really obsessed with red dead redemption 2 and I've never been more tempted to quit my job before because there were not enough HOURS in the day. On the subject of Dread Wolf - that game better drop before I reach the end of Origins because it might introduce new Thedas canon that will utterly fuck up my fanfiction plans. But if that happens, I'll just wave away any inconsistencies with the two most beautiful letters known to fanfic writers: A. U.

I think you might be right...here, there be dragons. Shit. Forgot about the dragons. See, this is why I need reviewers lmao. Brb, writing dragons.