Trials

"What are you doing, Torph?" Epona asked quietly, watching him tiredly as he poked and prodded at the dragon's corpse.

"It's scales..." Torph murmured. "I was wondering..."

He was rubbing the scales against each other, then began to press one in, and much to Epona's surprise, the scales began to sink into one another, then it tore through completely.

Torph grinned. "Dragon scales can tear through each other. I wonder if it'll work on an Archdemon too. It's a dragon, right?"

Epona blinked and looked at Faren, who shrugged.

"It could be worth a shot," Faren said.

"What are you planning to do? Make a bomb out of scales?" Epona raised a brow.

"I'm gonna make you some arrows." Torph grinned, but his grin slowly fell. "You... you could probably use a nice gift after all this shit..."

"I guess..." Epona sat down on a boulder, sighing heavily. "I can't wait to leave this place."

"I don't blame you." Faren leaned against the boulder beside her. "This has all been crap. Are you holding up okay?"

"I'll tell you when I know," Epona said softly.

.:.

"Now Epona knows you'll always put your precious Chantry before her," Morrigan chuckled. "Well done, Leliana."

Leliana scowled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Most of us were ready to fight the Guardian, yet you and Wynne both wished to perserve these 'holy grounds'." Morrigan scoffed. "Now we all know a dead woman matters more to you than your travelling companions."

"We are here to seek out Andraste's Ashes. We need Her help-" Leliana insisted.

"Yes, Her help sure, but not that spirit's-" Morrigan began, then stopped mid step.

Ciara could see why. Ghosts stood before them. Duncan, Teyrn Cousland, Branka, then a female dwarf who Ciara recalled seeing in the paintings back in Orzammar's palace. The former Queen, Narascha's mother. There was also Flemeth and a woman Ciara didn't recognise who made Leliana tense up, along with a boy that made Wynne grow pale. Another woman made Zevran stiffen up completely, his eyes wide.

"Duncan?" Alistair looked stunned at the sight of the ghostly version of Duncan beckoning to him, his gaze kind.

"We have a lot to talk about, Alistair." 'Duncan' said, his voice soothing.

Ciara was about to make a snarky comment about the spirits having their 'loved ones' come back to them to try sooth their aches, but she saw the pure hope in Alistair's eyes and couldn't bring herself to hurt him. Goldanna had already done that. She had changed him. Whatever this was shouldn't have to change him too.

"Pup," Teyrn Cousland called out, his eyes on Cobian whose brow furrowed and he stepped back, right up against Morrigan who looked at Cobian's father icily.

"Who?" Morrigan asked.

"My dead father," Cobian said grimly then tilted his head. "Now how does this work? Is it an illusion? Or is this a spirit? Or is this the ability of a spirit causing the illusion? Or perhaps the lyrium in the mountain is causing this. It showed us ghosts down in the Deep Roads after all..."

Ciara glanced around, seeing that Alistair, Zevran, Wynne and Leliana were already gone into the mist beginning to cloud the room, slowly stealing their sight from one another. That made her very wary of another trap.

"Cobian," Teyrn Cousland began, smiling warmly. "You have no idea how good it is to hear your thoughts again, pup."

"I... let's talk..." Cobian hesitated, and Ciara saw the tears well up in his eyes, before he approached the Teyrn. He took his hand, and they disappeared into the fog as well.

Ciara grimaced. They were all being separated.

"Hey, Ciara."

Ciara closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, before turning around.

"My brother's grown spirit." Ciara scowled, turning round to face the child staring up at her, the child wearing Dexter Trevelyan's face, her own eyes staring up at her. "That's no longer his face."

"This was the last face you saw before you left me." The spirit pressed on, still with that huffy frown upon his face. She wasn't sure if she was pissed or upset to see him again.

.:.

Lawrien watched her friends carefully, Morrigan was glaring daggers at the spot Cobian disappeared from before turning those daggers on to the ghostly figure of her mother. Said mother who immediately combusted into flames with a quick spell from Morrigan. Narascha hesitated.

A dwarven woman, dressed in a beautiful, elegant gown, wearing a crown upon her head stood before Narascha. Narascha flinched back, and Lawrien was hit with a wave of pain and distress.

"Narascha?" Lawrien called out, worried.

"A ghost," Narascha hissed through clenched teeth. "An image of someone to break my heart with, but I can't help but be happy all the same. I actually get to see her again, after all these years."

"Hello, Nara." The Queen of Orzammar smiled warmly. "You've grown into such a beautiful lady."

Narascha laughed, but it was a wet, watery laugh, full of pain. "I wouldn't call me a lady. I've been murdering a lot of darkspawn and hitting folk left and right." She choked on a breath. "S-So what are you exactly?"

The Queen tilted her head. "Does it matter?"

Narascha softened, but her voice remained thick. "Maybe. We've been tricked by a lot of spirits and demons lately. It's all been a little chaotic to be honest."

The Queen smiled warmly. "You've grown into an amazing woman, Narascha. I am so proud."

"Thanks, but you need to go now," Narascha said. "I-I need to go now. We need to get to the Urn, right, Lawrien?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Narascha's mother faded away with a warm smile, and Narascha quickly wiped away a few tears and turned away.

"And why did you not get a visitor?" Morrigan asked, eyeing Lawrien.

Lawrien gave a strained smile. "I did. Just not one I wanted."

Narascha followed Lawrien's gaze downwards, and startled at the sight of a Mouse at her feet. Morrigan felt concerned too, much to Lawrien's joy. Morrigan really did care a lot.

"Just ignore it," Lawrien sighed. "Mouse just wanted to say hi."

"You haven't been using your sword enough," Mouse said, startling Narascha.

"I forgot he could talk!" Narascha breathed out sharply.

"Swinging a sword is hard," Lawrien complained.

"You know how to use it from the Arcane Warrior's memories, you just need to train your body to do it," Mouse lectured.

"I haven't exactly had time to stop and train, now have I?" Lawrien scowled.

"True, it has been entertaining watching you fight your way through endless hordes of darkspawn," Mouse chuckled. "But you should keep pushing yourself. You don't know how strong you need to be to take down an Archdemon. You need to be far stronger than this. I need you to bring down mountains, Lawrien."

"She has not even reached her prime years yet and you yet wish more," Morrigan huffed. "How insane."

"What can I say? I'm greedy." Mouse's chuckles faded as he disappeared.

Ciara was the first one to emerge, her face set in a heavy scowl. Alistair walked out after her, tears staining his cheeks, but there was a new light in his eyes. Cobian was next, his footsteps lighter, a little easier. Oghren immediately proceeded to drink more from his skin, and Leliana and Wynne looked more solemn.

"This is getting rather tedious," Morrigan huffed.

"Hopefully the next one is easier," Leliana said with a soft sigh.

Lawrien had to admit, she wasn't sure if Leliana, Wynne and Oghren had gotten any peace from confronting their demons. They all just seemed exhausted as each other.

Lawrien had to wonder, who was she supposed to have seen? Mouse had butted in, that much Lawrien knew, but why?

.:.

Leliana seemed to perk back up when it came to answering the riddles. Ciara and Cobian managed to help a little bit, Alistair too, but Leliana was flying through the answers happily.

It was the next room that held more problems. Everyone had disappeared, except for Ciara, Alistair and Lawrien. Lawrien didn't seem too worried, not even as the world around them shimmered and they appeared in a large mansion where a small blonde girl stood right in the middle of the floor.

"Hey, Ciara, there's a tiny me!" Lawrien laughed. "She's adorable- Ow! She kicked me!"

Ciara blinked at the sight of a tiny Lawrien in a dress kicking her Lawrien in the shins. Ciara blinked again, more firmly this time, but the image didn't go away.

What in the world?

"Uh..." Alistair stared blankly.

Well at least Ciara wasn't the only one confused here.

"You let them take us all away!" Little Lawrien yelled.

Lawrien tilted her head. "That's why you're kicking me? What could we do against the Templars as a kid?"

"We should have been stronger for our family!"

"We're stronger now," Lawrien said. "We're the Commander of the Grey and we're going to take on an Archdemon."

"Would it not have been better to not be a mage?" Little Lawrien tilted her head. "We could have been nobility. We could have had riches beyond our wildest imagination."

Lawrien tilted her head. "Try again. I rob corpses daily."

Alistair groaned. "You're not supposed to admit that."

"We could have had our brothers and sisters."

"We gained more."

"Our mother might not have killed herself in her own grief after losing all her children."

Lawrien froze, her face slowly grew hard, and a nasty grin lit her face. It wasn't a look Ciara was familiar with, in fact she saw Alistair step away from Lawrien unnerved.

"Now you're on the right track," Lawrien growled. "But do you really think that was going to beat me? Did you not think I'd just get angry and want to fight back even harder for her sake? I am Lawrien Amell, Warden Commander of the Grey Wardens, I was a mage of the Circle of Magi, and I will always be Myra Amell's sister, as well as Ciara's, Ander's and Jowan's. I don't care about losing some comfortable seat and lots of gold. I got the better deal, even if I had to lose much to gain it."

Little Lawrien tilted her head, then smiled.

"Epona will die."

Ciara cursed when the manor around them, including little Lawrien, combusted into fire. Lawrien had her fists clenched tight, and her teeth gritted as she marched forward, tearing through the illusion with another explosion of fire.

They were left in an empty corridor again.

"Lawrien?" Ciara grimaced.

Lawrien stood there, shaking, but it was in rage, not anguish.

"Screw that." Lawrien bristled. "C'mon, let's go."

Ciara and Alistair followed after her heels, only to emerge in another familiar room. It was a large chamber, filled with lots of painted white wood, a pure colour, her mother always told her. Ciara grimaced at the familiar mirror stretching from floor to ceiling, where a much younger version of her stood.

She wore a blue dress, decorated with lace and buttons and plenty of jewels, and her hair was tied back into a tight bun.

Not like the loose, messy bun she wore these days.

Mother had never liked seeing a single hair loose from it. The last time it had happened, her father had bashed his cane off her skull where the loose strand had been. The thought made her shiver.

Lawrien eyed her, and her face was set in a heavy scowl.

Little Ciara turned to face her. "Why did you always have to keep fighting mother and father?"

Ciara frowned. "You know why."

"It always hurt when they hit us, and then Kylon and Terrance too," Little Ciara said. "They never hit our face after we did our hair properly, but everywhere else was fine..."

Alistair's breath hitched.

"Why couldn't we just stay quiet? Why couldn't we just obey?" Little Ciara asked desperately. "It would have been better. We would never have been hurt, nor would Dexter. He kept defending us, all the time, and he got hurt for it too. It's our fault."

"It's not our fault that our parents were monsters," Ciara hissed. "It's not our fault our older brothers were too."

"We would have been fine if we had just stayed quiet."

"And marry the forty year old man they originally planned to give us too?" Ciara asked coldly, as Alistair choked. "He had a strong connection to a Revered Mother, his sister, right? It would have helped boost up mother and father's popularity among the Chantry members."

"But you..." Alistair whispered, looking at her younger self in absolute horror. "You look like you were ten..."

"My first engagement was when I was nine," Ciara corrected him.

Alistair recoiled. "W-What?"

"I ruined that engagement when I poured lizards into his bed," Ciara said. "They were poisonous, and it gave him a terrible rash that burned for days."

"Father bet us bloody for that!" Little Ciara yelled, reaching back for the fastening of her dress. "Is this worth it?"

The dress dropped around her, and Alistair flinched back, before his eyes widened in shock. Little Ciara was covered in dark purple bruises, some yellow and paler, but mainly swollen in nasty forms of purple, some almost black. There was a brace on her wrist and lower leg, and Ciara grimaced at the reminder of how painful that beating had been.

"My wrist is broken, as is my leg, because you couldn't shut up and do as you were told," Little Ciara said. "You did this to us!"

"Yes, I did," Ciara said coldly. "And I would do the same thing again, and again, and again. I don't regret it for one second. I hate that Dexter was hurt, I wish he hadn't been, but I am free! And he is turning out to be a great man if I heard correctly. He will one day be the head of our house. I know it, and if he ever asks me too, I will take care of everyone who steps in his way to the top."

"Even after all this time?" Little Ciara asked.

"Yes, even now."

"Why do you not regret our pain? Our suffering? Our lives could have been so much easier..."

"Because I wouldn't have met Lawrien. I wouldn't have met Myra, or Anders, or Jowan, nor Alistair." Ciara ignored Alistair's breath hitching again. The poor man was going to make himself pass out at this rate. "I am happy."

Little Ciara frowned. "Really?"

"Yes."

Little Ciara sighed. "Happy? When have we ever been happy?"

The room shimmered away, only to turn into a stable, where a young boy laid shivering in the hay. Alistair's expression immediately softened, but first he placed his hand on Ciara's shoulder.

"Are you... are you okay?" Alistair asked softly.

"I will be fine, but it is a grim reminder," Ciara admitted, but she was staring at the child, feeling her heart shatter as he shivered.

Alistair turned his attention to the child, and he knelt down in front of the boy.

"I don't remember being so cold..." he admitted.

Little Alistair was clutching his mother's necklace tight. Alistair pulled him into an embrace, whispering to him, holding him tight as he cradled him. Little Alistair's eyes widened at one point during his whispering, and looked straight at Ciara, then giggled and pulled back.

"So you're happy with your future?" Little Alistair asked.

"Yeah, I am." Alistair smiled warmly. "And even if I don't know what the future holds for me, I know I have good people around me to help, and that I am strong enough too."

Little Alistair climbed out of his lap and disappeared, as the stables shimmered away again, revealing an large chamber. Cobian, Calenhad and Morrigan were already there, as were Oghren, Narascha and Zevran.

"So, I take it we were all faced with our cute littler selves?" Zevran asked.

"Mine kicked me," Lawrien said.

Zevran chuckled. "Do you launch her for it?"

"I should have," Lawrien grumbled.

Wynne and Leliana reappeared, the pair looking far more relaxed than before. They were whispering to each other, Leliana's face warm. Lawrien could feel the longing in Wynne, and her hopefulness. Hopefulness about her son?

"I'm sick of all this," Oghren grunted, marching into the next room, only for Cobian to yank him back when he almost fell to his death. "THE HELL-"

Cobian braced him. "Another puzzle it would seem. There are multiple platforms."

Lawrien jumped on the first platform on the side of the pit and grinned when a ghostly version of the bridge appeared halfway across the cavern.

"It really is a puzzle!" Leliana smiled.

.:.

Narascha was so glad to see the Urn once they reached it. She didn't bother climbing the stairs, only sat down with Oghren as Leliana stared at it in awe, and Wynne too.

"I never would have dreamed that I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes," Leliana breathed out, bowing her head. "I... I have no words to express..."

"Nice vase," Zevran said dryly. "I should get one for my house."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, sweetcheeks," Oghren grumbled. "The lyrium in the walls are far richer and purer than I've seen in a long time. It's doing a lot of thing, changing this temple and everything within it."

"Does that mean the ashes might not cure Arl Eamon?" Narascha frowned. "Because if I've walked all this way for nothing, I'm going to be pissed. I'm a dwarf, we have short legs. Too much walking aches."

"I stand in awe," Morrigan scoffed. "Really."

"I could not have asked for a greater honour than to be here. I will never forget this feeling," Wynne said softly.

"Really? No greater honour?" Narascha raised a brow. "Fighting the Archdemon will be pretty great!"

Ciara gathered a pinch and placed it in her pouch, but none of them noticed except for Narascha- because she was bloody watching- that when everyone else turned away, Lawrien took another pinch.

Well, except for Zevran, Zevran who grinned wolfishly and patted Lawrien's shoulder when she walked by.

"So, where to next?" Narascha asked.

They were all looking at Cobian, but he was silent, still staring at the statue of Andraste.

"Cobian?" Morrigan called out.

He blinked, startled, then frowned. "Sorry. I was deep in thought. What was your question?"

"Where are we off to next?" Narascha asked.

"Back to Redcliffe," Cobian said. "We go there, cure the Arl, get Sten's sword, and go to Denerim. On the way to Denerim we split off and go to the Kocari Wilds."

"Do you think we could go to Ostagar?" Alistair asked, a little hopefully.

"I wouldn't risk it until we're more aware of the Archdemon's whereabouts. We know it will avoid Flemeth due to whatever magical spell she is using to keep them from her hut," Cobian explained. "But Ostagar may still yet be swarmed in darkspawn. We have to be careful."

"Then let's get out of here and head back to Redcliffe," Lawrien said.

.:.

Cobian massagged his forehead as they left the room where Andraste's ashes rested.

'My champion against the darkness. Please, protect this world again, as your ancestors did before you. Do not lose faith.'

It had been a woman's voice who spoke to him, even as the others chatted amongst themselves. An unfamiliar voice, but surprisingly kind and welcoming.

The voice was gone now, and Lawrien was watching him, a furrow in her brow.