For some reason I kept listening to Gaur Plains while writing this one… not because it fits, but because I felt like it : P

We have two new party members, and no one’s really happy about it, but hey, when is this group happy about anything, am I right?

I adjusted a bunch of scenes to suit my own purposes. I’ve been going over logistics pretty carefully, and there’s a bunch of things that don’t make sense. But the most egregious of these is in the next two chapters, in which someone says that Redcliffe is only a day’s journey away from the Circle Tower. *coughs* Elsewhere, they say that Orzammar is a two-week journey from the Circle Tower, even though Orzammar doesn’t look THAT far away from the Circle Tower. In fact, if you compare the map from the novel The Stolen Throne, Orzammar is CLOSER than Redcliffe! I am so confused. (also on the official game map, Redcliffe is in a completely different spot, but there’s no ‘location’ dot there… however, there is one in the location that Redcliffe is marked at in the novel map. : P )

Next chapter, I will rant about how it is impossible for Zevran to have done what he said he did prior to meeting the Grey Warden(s). But I won’t tell you what I did to fix it. Zevran will tell you that himself. Eventually.

Previous chapter: Ostagar, next chapter: Redcliffe

 

Lothering

 

Elizabeth sniffed and frowned before she had even opened her eyes. There was the scent of woodsmoke in her nostrils, and food, and wood, and greenery.

“M-mother…” she began. “Nan…?”

Her eyes popped open. She had the distinct memory of seeing arrows in her arm and her gut, but neither of those places hurt. Had it all been a dream?

Weakly, she stirred, dragging her left arm from under the covers to inspect it. There was a bandage, but it was a remarkably small one, and there was nothing bleeding through. She felt her stomach, where she encountered the same – and then she gave a little stifled shriek of outrage as she realized that she was in her underthings.

“Your eyes finally open,” Morrigan’s voice called lightly over her consternation. “Mother shall be pleased.” The black-haired woman appeared at Elizabeth’s bedside, one hand on her cocked hip, smiling with satisfaction.

“M-morrigan…?” Elizabeth stammered in surprise, covering herself with the blanket. “What am I doing… here? What happened to the battle?”

“You were injured,” Morrigan said, as if it were so obvious only an idiot would not have realized that, “and Mother rescued you. Do you not remember?”

Elizabeth frowned. “I remember being wounded… with arrows… but being rescued? Not at all. How did she do that? We were at the top of the Tower of Ishal, and there were so many darkspawn…”

“Mother managed to save you and your strange friend,” Morrigan said slowly. “It was a close call, I believe, though what is important is that you both live.”

“But I was with two men, and my dog…”

“I know nothing of another man. Perhaps she was too late to save him.”

“But how…”

“She turned into a giant bird and plucked the two of you from atop the Tower, one in each talon,” Morrigan said, and it was impossible to tell from her tone if she were serious, or mocking Elizabeth. “If you do not believe that, then I suggest you ask Mother yourself. She may even tell you,” and Morrigan’s smile was definitely mocking.

“Are we safe here?”

“From the darkspawn? For the moment. Mother’s magic keeps them away. The main bulk of the horde has moved on, so you will probably avoid them when you leave here.”

Elizabeth thought for a while. No matter how Morrigan’s mother had saved them, they were now definitely in the swamp, probably in that ramshackle hut she had seen a couple days before.

Her stomach grumbled at smelling good food and not eating any, and Morrigan busied herself at the fire. Soon, Elizabeth was sitting up in the cot she had been lying in, and eating a bowl of stew. Her two braids were out of their buns, hanging down her back, and she had drawn up the blanket to her chest – not that she thought Morrigan cared about her modesty, not the way that the wild woman dressed, with little more than a scarf or shawl draped over her bra.

Now she was full of questions. “What happened to the battle after we lit our signal?”

“The man who was to respond to your signal… quit the field,” Morrigan told her with some reluctance, seated beside the cot on a low three-legged stool. “The darkspawn won your battle. Those who remained were massacred.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Every one?”

“Those who escaped are far away by now. You would not wish to see what is happening in that valley now.”

“Why?”

“Do you wish me to describe is? ‘Tis a grisly scene, and you are eating…”

Elizabeth braced herself. “…Yes, I want to know.”

“I had a good view of the battlefield this morning… Darkspawn swarm over every corpse… feeding, I believe… If they do find a survivor, they are dragged below ground.”

“Why is that?” Elizabeth asked, swallowing hard.

“I could not say. Full of questions, are we?”

“Yes… So Teyrn Loghain left the battle? I suppose the king did not survive…?”

“No, I don’t think so. I would have rescued him over you, personally. A king fetches a much higher ransom than a pair of Grey Wardens.”

Elizabeth tilted her head. “I happen to have been nobility.”

Morrigan chuckled. “You would say thus to someone who threatens to ransom you?”

“I think you like me better than that,” Elizabeth said, and while she knew almost nothing of Morrigan, and the woman was extremely hard to read, she believed it to be true.

Morrigan looked taken aback for the briefest instant before she smirked. “Perhaps I do, or perhaps I am only waiting for you to let down your guard so I may turn you into stew. Don’t you want to know what happened to your friend?”

Elizabeth shook her head at the implied macabre joke. “Was he injured badly as well?”

“Not as badly as you. But he is taking the loss very hard, and wavers between grief and denial. I believe Mother is outside with him. You may see him, if you are feeling better. And I believe Mother would like to speak with you as well.”

Elizabeth passed over her empty bowl. “I am feeling better, but… where are my clothes!?”

Morrigan chuckled. “I will fetch them for you.” She might have muttered the word ‘prude’, but her back was to Elizabeth as she did so, so she was not sure.

Morrigan insisted that she not only dress in her tunic and pants and boots, but also that she put on her armour and weapons, as if she wanted Elizabeth out as soon as possible. Elizabeth obliged, putting her braids up into their twists out of the way, and double checked that she was carrying everything that belonged to her.

“Thank you for helping me, Morrigan,” she said, when she was done.

Morrigan hesitated, as if she had not expected that. “I… you are welcome. Though Mother did most of the work. I am no healer.”

“I appreciate your kindness, all the same.”

Morrigan shrugged. “Mother is waiting.”

Elizabeth bowed, uncertain how to respond to Morrigan’s uncertainty, and pushed open the front door, which squeaked like a cat being stepped on.

Alistair sat at the edge of the stream outside the house, staring morosely at its waters. Morrigan’s mother stood nearby, watching him silently. When she saw Elizabeth, she called to Alistair. “See! Here is your fellow Warden, hale and hearty. You worry too much, young man.”

Alistair half turned to look at her, and then got up to face her. His eyes were bleak and red-rimmed, and his voice was husky. “You-you’re alive! I thought you were dead for sure. You’ve been out for two days.” There was half-laugh, half-sob at the end of his words.

Elizabeth, though shocked at the news that she had been unconscious for two whole days, thought he was going to embrace her and asked hurriedly: “Were you badly injured?”

“Not that badly, but I hit my head,” he said, rubbing it. “Though… it no longer hurts,” he admitted. “I was just so worried for you… to be gut-shot is a death sentence, normally.”

“I’m fine now,” she said gently. “Tell me what has happened.”

“Duncan’s dead,” he said, and his chest heaved with the attempt to keep his emotions under control. “All the wardens, even the king… all dead.” He sighed. “This doesn’t seem real.”

Her eyes prickled in sympathy for him, and now she wanted to embrace him. “You were close to him, weren’t you?”

He closed his eyes, trying to hide his grief from her. “He was… like a father to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I… can understand, a little, I think.”

“How so?”

“My… entire family was… murdered, before I came to Ostagar. It’s why I came to Ostagar; Duncan took me.”

“Wait, but you’re… Elizabeth… Cousland, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “If my brother lives, he is Teyrn. But I… am… losing hope for that, after last night.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alistair said, shocked. “I had no idea.”

“I did not tell you.” This wasn’t about her. “We had other things to worry about.”

“But…”

“It’s not that important,” though now that they were talking about her parents as well, she could feel the cold weight of grief welling up in her chest too. “In any event, you can talk to me if you… need to. Wish to. I did not know Duncan at all, and if you want… I would like to know more of him.”

He nodded. “Not right now, but thank you. We’re… both alone now, and we should probably rely on each other.”

“Mm. It’s only thanks to Morrigan’s mother that we did not meet a similar fate.”

“Do not talk about me as if I am not present, girl,” said the old woman sharply.

Elizabeth stammered. “I a-apologize, ma’am. But you… never told us your name…”

“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind call me Flemeth. I suppose that will do for you as well.”

“Then, we both thank you for saving our lives, Flemeth,” Elizabeth said, bowing.

Alistair’s eyes opened wide. “The Flemeth? From the legends? Daveth was right…”

“And so what?” asked the old woman. “I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well.”

“And why did you save us?” Alistair asked, slightly chastened.

“Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we?” Flemeth said mockingly. “Someone has to do something about all these darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to unite the lands against a Blight. Or did that change when I wasn’t looking?”

“It has not changed,” Elizabeth said. “But it will be more difficult, I think, thanks to Teyrn Loghain’s actions.”

“Now that is a thing that doesn’t make any sense,” Alistair said, and Elizabeth was surprised by the change in him. Now he was hissing in anger. “Why would he do it?”

“An excellent question,” Flemeth said. “Men’s hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he sees the darkspawn as an army he can outmanoeuvre. Perhaps he does not see the evil that lies behind it is the true threat.”

“You mean the archdemon,” Alistair agreed.

“Then won’t we need more Grey Wardens?” Elizabeth asked. “Two warriors cannot fight a Blight alone.”

Alistair grimaced. “It would be really helpful, yes, but… the Orlesian Grey Wardens are weeks away, and while they’ve probably been waiting for us to call on them, Ferelden might be overrun by the time they arrive, if we left to seek them. And Weisshaupt Fortress, the Warden headquarters, is in the Anderfels – forget going there, that’s months of travel. They probably don’t even know there’s a Blight.”

“So it’s up to us?”

“I think so. We could send messengers to Orlais, but… finding someone willing to go, and someone who won’t be assassinated by Loghain’s soldiers along the way…”

“Well, then,” Elizabeth said. “He is our first problem, is he not?”

“You must certainly deal with the repercussions of his deeds before you face the archdemon… unless it finds you first,” said Flemeth, not at all reassuringly.

“What could he hope to gain from this?” Alistair muttered. “He’s the Queen’s father, so he could take over as Regent, but could he become king while getting away with… murder, basically?”

“He would not be the first king to gain his throne that way,” Flemeth said tartly. “Grow up, young man.”

“Arl Eamon for one wouldn’t stand for it,” Alistair said forcefully. “And if he wouldn’t, the Landsmeet wouldn’t. It would be civil war, and Ferelden can’t afford that right now. Even Loghain must see that. Let’s go to Arl Eamon and ask him for help! He wasn’t at Ostagar, so he will still have his army, too.”

“How do we just go to the Arl for help?” Elizabeth asked. “I am no longer officially a Cousland.”

“I know, but I know him. He… raised me. He’s an honourable man.”

“Loghain is also known as an honourable man, was an honourable man until last night,” Elizabeth reminded him. “The Landsmeet will not necessarily follow Arl Eamon simply because he is a good man.”

“And one nobleman’s army will not stop a Blight,” Flemeth said.

Elizabeth looked suddenly at Alistair. “An army… what about those treaties we went to such trouble to search for? The ones that Flemeth herself saved for us? Alistair, do you still have them?”

His face lit up. “I do! I showed them to Duncan, and he told me to keep them for the time being. They’re right here!” He reached into his belt pack and withdrew them. Together, he and Elizabeth crowded over them, flipping through. “This one is for the dwarves of Orzammar…”

“This one seems to be for the Dalish elves of the Brecilian Forest… And that one is from the High Enchanter of the Circle Tower…”

“Smart lass,” Flemeth said approvingly. “Dwarves, elves, mages, and others, does that not sound like the beginning of an army?”

“Can we do this?” Alistair asked, very excited. “Can we go to all these people, these places, and just… build an army?”

“That is what these papers say,” Elizabeth said. “Logically, it should work. I… do not think it will be easy.”

“No one said it would be easy,” Flemeth said. “But I think you will be all right.”

“Why would you do all this for us?” Alistair asked, as if suddenly realizing the immense implications of Flemeth’s past and current actions.

“Why not? If I am the Witch of the Wilds of legend and fantasy, I must be very old and powerful, yes? But I do not wish to fight the Blight, and certainly not all alone. That is not my task. That is your task.”

“The two of us…” Alistair said. “Yes. We can do it. I know we can.”

“Are you ready then? Ready to go off and be Grey Wardens?”

“Yes!” Alistair cried.

“Thank you for everything, Flemeth,” Elizabeth said, bowing low. Alistair’s hope was infectious, and for the first time since everything had started, she felt that she had some purpose.

“No, thank you,” Flemeth said, smiling mysteriously. “But there is another thing I can offer you.” She raised her voice. “Morrigan!”

“Yes, Mother dear?” Morrigan said coolly, exiting the house. “Shall we have two guests for supper, or none?”

“The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl, and you shall be joining them.”

“Such a shame-” Morrigan began before Flemeth had finished her sentence. “What!?”

“You heard me, girl,” Flemeth said. “The last time I looked, you had ears!” She chortled heartily at her own joke.

“We thank you, but if Morrigan does not wish to join us,” Elizabeth began uncertainly.

“Her magic will be useful,” Flemeth cut her off. “And she knows the Wilds. She can at least get you past the horde.”

“Have I no say in this?” Morrigan demanded indignantly.

Flemeth waved impatiently at her. “You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years; now is your chance. As for you Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives.”

“I would be glad to travel with Morrigan, if she does not mind,” Elizabeth said.

“Er, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but won’t that cause problems later?” Alistair said, his drawl returning. “Outside of the wilds, she’s an apostate mage.”

“If you do not wish help from us ‘illegal mages’,” Flemeth said bitingly, “perhaps I should have left you on that tower.”

Alistair shrank back. “Point… taken.”

“Mother…” Morrigan protested again. “I am not even ready-”

“You must be ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. Without your help, Morrigan, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight, even I.”

“I… understand.” Morrigan wilted.

“And you, Wardens, do you understand?” Flemeth turned her piercing gaze to the two of them. “I give you that which I value most in all the world. I do it because you must succeed.”

“I understand,” Elizabeth said solemnly.

“Allow me to get my things,” Morrigan said, sighing, and disappeared briefly into the house.

“Well then, I am at your disposal,” she said, mock-courteously to Alistair and Elizabeth when she returned. “I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. ‘Tis not far and you will find much you need there.”

“Right,” Alistair said, and Elizabeth could see him already making a mental list of supplies and equipment.

“Or I can simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours,” Morrigan continued with a smirk.

“I’d rather you speak your mind,” Elizabeth said, and Flemeth chuckled.

“You will regret saying that,” said the old witch.

“Dear, sweet Mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this,” Morrigan said with gleeful sarcasm. “How fondly I shall remember this moment.”

“Well, I always said, if you want something done, do it yourself, or hear about it for a decade or two afterwards,” Flemeth rejoined in kind.

“Do you really want to take her just because her mother says so?” Alistair whispered to Elizabeth while Morrigan bantered with her mother.

“Flemeth is right; we need her help. And… I think we’ll need all the help we can find.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he acquiesced quickly enough. “The Grey Wardens have always taken whatever willing allies they could find. An attitude that does not endear them to everyone…”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll explain later.”

“I am so pleased to have your approval,” Morrigan turned her sarcasm on Alistair. “For your information, I know a few small spells, though none so powerful as Mother’s. I have studied history, and your Grey Warden treaties.”

“Can you cook?” Alistair interrupted, jokingly.

“I… can cook, yes,” Morrigan answered suspiciously.

“That’s all right,” Elizabeth said. “You do not have to cook.” Although, she recalled, the stew had been very good.

“You missed your chance,” Alistair teased. “It’s charred rabbit from here on out. Unless you can cook?”

“Ah… not so well.” Nan had showed her a few things, but she had never done any cooking herself, and certainly none unsupervised.

“That said, do not forget the stew on the fire, Mother,” Morrigan said, turning to her mother. “I should hate to return and find the hut has burned down.”

“It’s far more likely you’ll return to find this entire area, hut and all, swallowed up by the Blight,” Flemeth retorted irritably.

“I… all I meant was…” Morrigan stammered.

“I know.” Flemeth’s voice and face softened. “Do try to have fun while you’re on your big adventure, dear.”

Morrigan smiled. “I certainly shall. Farewell.”

“Farewell, child.”

Morrigan led them at a swift pace through the forest, leaving the little hut far behind. There was little talking that first afternoon, and they soon made camp for the evening. Dinner was a frugal meal Morrigan had brought; the two Wardens had little more than their armour and weapons. Each of them were lost in their own thoughts. Elizabeth slept quickly, even on the cold, damp, dirty ground close to the fire, and her dreams were troubled with things she could not remember on waking.

The second day they rose early and continued, always north. Elizabeth tried to see if she could sense darkspawn, but she had no idea what it might feel like, and so sensed nothing.

After a while, Alistair seemed to rouse himself from whatever reverie he had been walking in, and attempted to make conversation with Elizabeth.

“So, finally decided to rejoin us, have you?” Morrigan interrupted. “Falling on your blade in grief seemed too much trouble, I take it?”

“Is my being upset so hard to understand?” Alistair demanded. “Have you never lost anyone dear to you? What would you do if your mother died?”

Morrigan threw back her head and laughed. “Before or after I stopped laughing?”

“Riiiight, very creepy. Forget I asked.”

“What were you going to say, Alistair?” Elizabeth asked.

“Something about his navel, I suspect,” Morrigan said as Alistair opened his mouth. “He certainly has been contemplating it enough.”

“Oh, is this the part where we’re shocked to discover you’ve never had a friend your entire life?”

“I can be friendly enough when I desire to… Alas, desiring one’s associates to be more intelligent does not make it so.”

“If you are only going to snipe at each other the whole way…” Elizabeth began, and was ignored.

“I still don’t see why you had to come along,” Alistair grumbled.

“Is it not obvious? My mother wishes me to come, so I came. After all, if the fate of the world rests on it…” She trailed off, her voice mocking.

“You don’t believe the fate of the world rests on it?” Alistair demanded. “It’s a Blight.”

“Yes, we have established this; very observant of you. What more do you want of it, a signed letter of intent?”

“But… what do you want, Morrigan?” Elizabeth interrupted, more firmly this time. “I hope it is not only because your mother wishes it. I still cannot tell if you are pleased or displeased by all this…”

Morrigan considered, glancing at her with far less heat than she did at Alistair. “What I want… is to see mountains. I wish to witness the ocean, and step in its waters. I want to experience a great city, rather than see it in my mind. So yes… this is what I want. …It is only that actually leaving is harder than I thought it might be.”

“Mm,” Elizabeth said understandingly, and decided to change the subject altogether. “What is this village like, that you are taking us to?”

“It is a small place of little consequence called Lothering, a mere dot along your Imperial Highway. There, travelers purchase supplies from local merchants and smiths. We shall reach it in two days. I would go more often, were it not for the town’s chantry.”

“A chantry?” Alistair drawled. “And they never, in all this time, thought that maybe you might be a witch?”

“Of course they have,” Morrigan smirked. “They even called out their templars once. They found nothing, of course.”

“However did you manage that.”

“Peace,” Elizabeth said. “Please don’t fight all day.”

“We haven’t been fighting all day,” Alistair protested.

“Haven’t we?” Morrigan rejoined with a grin.

Elizabeth sighed and they both were quiet for a while.

They had travelled another few hours, with a short break for lunch, when Morrigan suddenly turned and stared at the forest. “There is… an animal following us.”

Elizabeth turned and looked. “I don’t see anything.”

Morrigan gave her a pitying glance. “You know very little of the Wilds, or of nature in general, I can tell. Although… this beast is not a local one…”

There was a deep ‘woof’, and a large mabari hurtled out of the undergrowth and flung itself on Elizabeth, slamming her to the ground.

Morrigan raised her staff, and Alistair drew his sword – he was still missing a shield – but Elizabeth laughed, for the first time in days.

“Huan!”

Her dog slobbered all over her face, and she pushed him away playfully, giggling, before reaching around to scratch his neck vigorously. At length, the dog let her sit up and give him a proper hug. “You’re alive! You escaped the darkspawn! Oh, my boy, are you hurt anywhere? I’m so glad you found us!” Huan sat back and panted joyfully.

“Wonderful,” Morrigan commented, lowering her staff. “We now have a dog, and Alistair is still the dumbest one in the group.”

“Hey! I resent that!” But Alistair smiled at seeing Elizabeth so happy for once.

That night, when they stopped for food and sleep, they began to plan their journey.

“We will reach Lothering at around mid-day tomorrow,” Morrigan said. “I believe we be at least a day’s journey ahead of the darkspawn, despite our late start. They tend to muddle around when not directly confronted with a target.”

“I made a list of things that we will need,” Alistair said. “Food, tents, a new shield for me… Do you think all these things can be bought in Lothering? Surely they will be overflowing with refugees.”

“With enough coin, anything can be bought, even if supplies are scarce,” Morrigan said. “Do you have any, o wise Grey Warden?”

Alistair glared at her but checked his belt pouch. “I have a little. Do you have any?” he asked Elizabeth.

She shook her head, leaning against Huan. “I had barely time to put on my armour when I left Highever. I had brought an extra shield by chance, but I left it in the camp at Ostagar when we went to climb the Tower of Ishal. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll make do until we can get one.”

“There is yet another matter,” Morrigan said. “Where do you wish to go first after Lothering? I expect we should be in and out as swiftly as possible, so as not to be there when the darkspawn arrive.”

Alistair looked at Elizabeth. “What do you think?”

She stared back in surprise. “Why do you ask me? You are the senior Warden.”

“Well… only by a few months. And I really don’t know much more about being a Warden than you do.”

“But still…”

“Well… er… you see, I’m not a very good leader. I’d really rather follow you. I’d much rather follow someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Elizabeth said.

“Wonderful,” Morrigan said, as if to herself.

“I don’t know where we should go, or what we should do when we get there. I barely know who I’m supposed to be, now that everything I knew is gone.” She barreled on through her thoughts, holding back tightly against the tears that threatened to yet again well up in her. “I’m only eighteen years old. All I really know how to do is fight, and look pretty at social gatherings. You would trust the fate of Ferelden to an untested girl?”

“You’ll do better than me, I’m sure of it. You were raised to lead; you got a proper education, instead of a piecemeal one like I did. Or none at all.” He cast a glance at Morrigan, who rolled her eyes. “If you have questions about the Wardens, or if you want advice, I’m happy to offer it, but I’ll do whatever you decide.”

“Now that is unsurprising,” Morrigan commented.

“Oh, lay off,” Alistair said. “Look, neither of us is going to be leader. So you’re the only real choice. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Elizabeth turned a little desperately to Morrigan. “Surely you do not think this is a good idea?”

Morrigan snorted. “’Tis a better idea than leaving him to lead. You are calmer, more rational, and dare I say more diplomatic, which even I understand could be useful, though the elegant application of blunt force is often equally effective…”

Elizabeth looked from one to the other, both of them much older than her, neither of them backing down. If they had been Fergus, she would have told them they were being lazy – but Fergus was missing in the woods, probably dead as well, and… that had not been where she had meant to go with that thought.

She bowed her head into Huan’s side, thinking. It was true that she had been about to take on much responsibility in Highever, but it had been responsibility that she had been raised for. This was something else entirely.

Huan whined anxiously, peering at her.

“Duty comes first in our family,” her father had said, something he had said many times, and yet again in his last words to her.

She raised her head. “All right. I will do it.”

Alistair brightened again. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

She sighed at him.

“So now that that is settled,” Morrigan announced, “where shall we go after Lothering?”

Elizabeth considered. “There are our potential allies… and the Arl of Redcliffe.”

“Or you could go after this Loghain and remove him from the picture,” Morrigan suggested, examining her nails. “Then you may not worry about that civil war you mentioned.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Alistair said. “It’s not like he has an army or years of experience or anything.”

“’Tis what I’d do,” Morrigan said. “Just offering. She did say I could speak my mind.”

“I do think that sounds a bit ambitious for our first goal,” Elizabeth said. “I think the Arl of Redcliffe might be a good choice. Redcliffe is… fairly close, and if he is as friendly as Alistair implies, he can advise us where to go next. Better than treating with a foreign and possibly unfriendly group.”

“The Circle mages aren’t foreign,” Alistair said.

“But the Dalish elves and the dwarves of Orzammar do not necessarily care much for humans, even Grey Wardens.” She remembered that much from her tutor. “We shall inform the Arl of our plans to unite Ferelden, and then we shall ask the Circle Tower to honour their treaty. After that… I do not know, yet.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Alistair said.

“It sounds feasible, if a bit dull,” Morrigan said.

“I’m sure it will be exciting enough… it can’t possibly be as simple as walking up to the place and speaking to them,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing is ever that simple.”

“Such a young cynic,” Morrigan commented. “I like that.”

“We’re all a bit cynical,” Alistair said. “Except you. You are one hundred percent cynical. And two percent creepy. Actually, a lot more than that.”

“Am I? Or am I simply someone who has seen many different kinds of people and found them to be much the same?”

“Peace,” Elizabeth said, rolling over. “I’m going to sleep.”

At about noon the next day, they found the Imperial Highway and marched a little bit west along it; after about half an hour, a tiny village nestled in a green valley drew into view.

“Lothering,” Alistair said, sweetly sarcastic. “Pretty as a picture.”

“And crammed full of refugees, by the looks of it,” Morrigan said.

“Is it true, the darkspawn will be here by tomorrow?” Elizabeth asked.

“Probably,” Morrigan said. “You aren’t thinking of leading them all away, are you? Don’t.”

“But they’ll all die if someone doesn’t warn them.”

“You think they need warning? If they are still here, they are here because they are exhausted and cannot flee any further today. You would slow us down lugging the elderly and children along with us? Would you save every nook and hamlet along our path? Sacrificing your life for the sake of these miserable people may be noble and heroic, but it will do no good against the Blight.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, she’s right,” Alistair said. “I want to do something for them too. But we simply can’t save every person when the darkspawn are so close on our heels.”

“Can Ferelden be saved at all?” Elizabeth asked in a low voice, and Huan whined sadly at her. If the darkspawn were able to just roll from Ostagar up into the Bannorn unchecked, surely it would not be long – a few months, perhaps – before they were at the gates of Denerim itself. Even just to travel to all the places on their list would take a couple months. This was a slow race.

“I think so,” Alistair said after a while. “It will take us time to build our army, but don’t think that no one will fight. The darkspawn may have come this far unchallenged, but the Imperial Highway is essentially our southern border, and I think the Bannorn will certainly turn out in defense of their lands, even if in a scattered, piecemeal fashion. If Loghain actually does something useful and rallies them to a proper defense, so much the better – but I’m not sure he’s going to do that.”

Elizabeth wondered how far Alistair’s opinions on Loghain were coloured by Ostagar. And how much her own might be. She didn’t know what she believed Loghain capable of, or inclined to do, now.

Her musings were interrupted by a handful of armed men stepping onto the road, blocking their path with grim smiles. The four companions came to a stop, Morrigan looking bored, Alistair apprehensive, Huan unflappably cheerful, and Elizabeth uncertain.

“Highwaymen,” Alistair whispered to Elizabeth. “Preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I guess.”

“We should teach them a lesson for interfering with us,” Morrigan murmured. “It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Greetings, travelers!” called the lead man. “May I guess that the pretty one in armour is the leader?”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and put on her best ‘firm but fair’ face. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

“Only ten silvers to pass, my good lady.”

They didn’t have that coin to spare. Elizabeth raised her chin haughtily. “You are toll collectors…?”

“Indeed, for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway! It’s in quite a state, isn’t it?” The Imperial Highway had been built by the Tevinter, and not repaired since they had been driven out hundreds of years ago by the prophet Andraste. In many places, the ‘highway’ was actually a dirt track beside the crumbled half-magic marble causeway. So, while she wanted to believe the best of everyone… even if she fell for the lies of their mouths, their eyes told of their dishonesty.

“I think not,” she said coldly.

“Not much gets past you, I see,” said the leader regretfully.

“It’s not really a toll,” said a large, hulking brute behind the leader, lisping thickly. “We’re just robbin’ you, see?”

“Do shut up… Even a genlock would have understood that!” the leader scolded him.

Elizabeth frowned. “If you wish to rob from Grey Wardens and their allies, you are welcome to try. You will not succeed.”

“Grey Wardens?” The lisping one prodded his leader’s shoulder. “Ain’t they the ones wot killed the king?”

“Killed the king?” Alistair repeated softly to himself, his face darkening.

“What did you say?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Yes, if you are who you claim to be, Teyrn Loghain’s put quite a large bounty on you for being traitors to Ferelden – and of course, murdering the king!”

“But… aren’t them Grey Wardens good? Like, I mean, really really good? Good enough to kill a king?”

“Enough!” Alistair said sternly. “We are Grey Wardens, and we killed no kings. But we’ll kill you if you get in our way!”

“You’re outnumbered, and your damsel friend there is defenseless… and we could do with that bounty.” The leader turned to the others. “Attack!”

“Defenseless!?” cried Morrigan. “I’ll show you defenseless!” Elizabeth heard a creaking, cracking sound, and even as she brought up her shield, a horrible, gigantic spider rushed past her and leapt on the leader of the bandits.

Elizabeth shrieked as blood flew everywhere. Everyone backed away; Huan howled.

The spider withdrew from the body of the bandit, and as Elizabeth raised her sword to attack, it shrank somehow and turned into Morrigan, who glared at her. “Must I do everything myself?”

“M-m-morrigan!?”

“Well, yes, who did you think that was?”

“I thought we were all being attacked by a horrible monster!” Elizabeth jumped in front of Morrigan, skidding backwards from the charge of the large, lisping brute.

“We should probably talk about strategy later,” Alistair yelled, parrying the axe of another and counterattacking.

“I have no objections,” Morrigan said, flicking a hand and turning a third bandit to ice.

Elizabeth steeled herself again to to mindset of ‘kill or be killed’, and not only blocked the blows of her attacker, but began to drive him back, though he was about three times as heavy as she was.

She didn’t want to kill.

She had to kill.

Her opponent was not well trained and left her a huge opening, and her sword sliced through his throat.

When she looked around, one bandit was fleeing, pursued by Huan, and the rest were dead. Alistair was cleaning his sword, and Elizabeth looked for her own cleaning cloth. She whistled for Huan to come back; she didn’t want him to stray far from her side.

“Well done,” Alistair said.

“Thank you,” she said, a little shakily. “Shall we continue?”

They walked into the village unchecked; everywhere the sound of sighing and sobbing came to Elizabeth’s ears.

“We’d best check at the inn for news, in addition to purchasing supplies,” Alistair said.

“Let’s obtain supplies first,” Elizabeth decided. “I’d rather be sure we have them. And if we cannot get them… we may ask at the inn where we might find them.”

Tents and bedrolls were scarce, and they had to make do with one large tent and three ratty old sacks, but they would be better than sleeping on the bare ground. Shields were not to be found, but Alistair managed to wheedle enough food for a week from one of the merchants.

“I guess the shield’s not such a big deal,” Alistair said as they headed for the inn. “I can hold on until we get to Redcliffe. They’re sure to have smiths with stock there. Hopefully we don’t run into too many darkspawn on the way.”

The inn’s tavern was packed, and every face was gloomy. The three of them managed to squeeze onto the end of a table, and Huan slunk down at Elizabeth’s feet. The beer that was brought to them was thin and watery.

“Probably shouldn’t mention that we’re… you know,” Alistair said to Elizabeth, who nodded.

“Would you go inquire of the barkeep more information about that?” Elizabeth asked. “I would, but I am not used to such places.”

Alistair nodded. “Completely understandable. Wait here. Maybe I’ll try and get some cheesy bread, too…” He threw a quick smile her way and made his way to the bar.

Morrigan sniffed and hunched over her mug, her staff propped against her shoulder. “This is a waste of time.”

“It’s only for a short while,” Elizabeth assured her, then looked up to see a bright-faced red-haired young woman in chantry robes standing next to their table. “Can I help you?”

“I’d just like to sit here; is that all right?”

“My friend will be back in a moment, but I think there is room.”

The woman nodded and sat next to Elizabeth; Morrigan deliberately shifted so that there would be no room for Alistair when he got back. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at her, and Morrigan raised one of her own back with such dismissive disdain that Elizabeth looked away.

“My name is Leliana,” said the woman cheerfully. Her voice was Orlesian, but Elizabeth did not think worse of her for that. She was a chantry sister, after all. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Elizabeth. This is Morrigan. My friend Alistair is over there. We’re just passing through.”

“How lovely,” said Leliana, completely sincere. “You, too, are escaping the-”

A heavy hand landed on Elizabeth’s shoulder, and even Morrigan looked faintly startled. “Well, look what we have here, men! The Maker smiles on us.”

“Didn’t we spend all morning looking for a woman of this description? And everyone said they hadn’t seen her?” said another man’s voice. “I think we were lied to!”

Elizabeth struggled up from the table to face the half-dozen soldiers. “I arrived barely an hour ago. What description is this? I have done nothing wrong.” She noticed that Alistair was frozen, over at the bar, staring in their direction in consternation. Huan growled from under the table.

“Dark-brown hair, blue eyes, tall, very young, with a shield with Cousland heraldry,” said the captain, leering at her. “Should have lost the Cousland souvenirs, sweetheart.”

“Surely there is no need for trouble,” Leliana said sweetly, standing beside Elizabeth. “No doubt she is only another poor soul in need of refuge…”

“Small chance of that,” growled the captain. “We have our orders. We’re to eliminate the traitor Grey Wardens who killed the king! Her accomplice should be here too. Spread out and search the place. Kill anyone who resists. And shut that mutt up.” A wave of mutters spread through the tavern at the ‘killed the king’.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Alistair said, waving his arms placatingly. “Don’t hurt anyone. We didn’t kill the king, but let’s take this outside, shall we?”

“Fine, we can execute you outside as well as inside. Less mess for the barkeep.”

“You can’t do this!” Leliana cried. “The Grey Wardens-”

“The Grey Wardens are traitors to Ferelden! Our orders were very clear. Teyrn Loghain won’t let you get away with it!”

Elizabeth and Alistair were beside each other now, heading for the door with the half-dozen soldiers behind them, and she could hear him gritting his teeth even over the hushed buzz of conversation. “I guess that settles that,” he murmured to her. “Loghain really wants to tie up his loose ends, huh?”

“If they don’t take our weapons, I’m fighting them,” Elizabeth murmured back. “But even if they do, perhaps Morrigan will help us.”

“Before or after she stops laughing?” Alistair snarked.

Outside, the one surviving bandit pointed at them. “That’s them, see, as I said! Do I get my reward now?”

“You’ll be paid,” grunted the soldier captain. “Take their weapons, men.”

The Orlesian chantry sister, Leliana, had followed them. “Please don’t do this! The Grey Wardens are all that protect us against the Blight!”

“Didn’t help King Cailan, now, did it? Get to it, men!”

Instead of surrendering, Elizabeth and Alistair nodded at each other, and whipped out their weapons, standing back to back in the yard of the inn.

“So you want to do it the hard way?” the captain growled. “So be it; I was hoping you would anyway.”

“I warn you,” Leliana began again.

“I will kill you, Sister, if you say another word!”

“And I will kill you if you harm them,” said the sister, a knife magically appearing in her hand, her voice unexpectedly hard and grim. Huan burst from the door and flung himself on another soldier, who yelled in surprise.

Elizabeth was struggling with another soldier, trying to stay with her back to Alistair even as her opponent manoeuvred in front of her. There was another one to her side, and if there was another one, it was too many too keep track of… but the one to her flank stopped short suddenly, frozen solid. Then even as she parried another blow from her opponent, the chantry sister slipped around behind and cut his throat with her dagger.

Now Elizabeth could turn and help Alistair, but he had already felled his opponents. The bandit had run off again. That left only…

“All right! All right! I surrender!” the captain exclaimed, Huan growling in his face while crouched on his chest. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Good; I hope you’ve learned your lesson and we can stop fighting now,” Leliana said, twirling her dagger with a dexterity that did not match her appearance at all. Elizabeth gestured to Huan, and the mabari reluctantly let the captain stand and brush himself off.

“We were only following orders, my lady.”

“I accept your surrender,” Elizabeth said. “But Loghain has lied to you. The Teyrn left King Cailan to die against the darkspawn!”

“But… I was there! The Teyrn pulled us out of a trap! The Grey Wardens led the king to his death. The Teyrn could do nothing!”

Elizabeth sighed. “I was there too. I don’t want Loghain to learn so quickly that we survived and where we are, but I have no wish to kill you. You had better start running, and quickly.”

“Yes ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!” He bowed to her and ran out of the inn’s yard.

Elizabeth turned to Leliana. “Many thanks for your help. But where does a sister learn to fight like that?”

Leliana shrugged as if embarrassed, putting her hands behind her back and tilting her head endearingly. “Many sisters had other lives before they joined the chantry, no? But is it true that you are the Grey Wardens?”

“And if we are?” Alistair asked.

“We are,” Elizabeth said.

“Wonderful! The Maker has commanded me to aid you.” She beamed at them.

Alistair and Elizabeth looked at each other. “Can you… elaborate?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

Leliana blushed. “Well… not really. I had a marvelous vision, and I knew I was destined to join you. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“I would be delighted to have you,” Elizabeth said, and Huan barked happily. Morrigan sighed in disgust.

“Wonderful!” Leliana said again. “Then I must go and recover my adventuring gear. I will be back in a few moments. Please wait for me.” She took off at an eager run towards the chantry.

“We’re not really taking the crazy lady?” Alistair said to Elizabeth. “She’s cute and all, but… visions from the Maker?”

“She wants to help, and she clearly knows how to handle herself in battle,” Elizabeth said. “And she seems very kind.”

“What if she’s an Orlesian spy?” Alistair said dubiously.

“Would even an Orlesian spy work against stopping a Blight?” Elizabeth said. “But I’d rather think well of her. I don’t believe she means us any harm.”

“You are so naive,” Morrigan said irritably. “But by all means, take the hallucinating religious freak.”

Leliana arrived, true to her word, in about twenty minutes. When she did, Elizabeth stared. The red-headed woman had traded her muted pink and gold chantry robe for an outfit of black, tight-fitting, stiff leather plates, long boots, and a fantastic red sash. On her back was a large bow of silvery-golden polished wood and a large quiver of arrows, and a polished brown lute with black and gold inlay. She smiled at Elizabeth, pushing her hair back from her face. “I used to be quite the marksman. I am sure my skills will come in handy.”

“All right, we do need an archer,” Alistair confessed.

“Welcome,” Elizabeth said. “We are only making a quick stop here to resupply before pressing on to Redcliffe. We are going to raise an army to stop the Blight.”

Leliana clapped her hands. “Marvelous! I cannot wait. Do you know the way?”

“I do, more or less,” Alistair said. “West is that way, right?”

“Surely you are not that stupid,” Morrigan said to him.

“I am not, but the sun’s gone behind those clouds, look-”

“As if you’ve forgotten your directions since we arrived here! On the other hand, men tend to get lost more easily…”

“Hey, I don’t have creepy forest witchy powers, all right? And men do too not get lost more easily.”

Leliana looked at them quizzically. “Are… they always like that?”

“I think so,” Elizabeth said. “They have been since they met a few days ago…”

Leliana giggled to herself. “Perhaps they like each other!”

Elizabeth and Huan looked at her in confusion. “I’m not sure where you get that idea,” Elizabeth said. “I am quite sure they despise each other and only get along at all because I am here.”

“Hmm,” Leliana chuckled. “I think… time will tell. You said they only met a few days ago, yes?”

“Yes…”

“Hmhmhm, time will tell.”

They had reached the outskirts of town, where small shacks bordered small fields, and the road wound away under a windmill on a little hill.

Elizabeth would have missed the cage altogether if the person inside had not moved. “Oh! There’s… there’s someone in there!”

The ‘someone’ was very dark-skinned, with white hair in cornrows, and an absolutely ferocious scowl. He looked extremely powerful. “Leave me be. I will not amuse you any more than the rest of my captors.” His voice was deep and even.

Elizabeth ignored his words and came closer. “Why are you in that cage?”

“Your chantry put me here.”

“I remember him,” Leliana said in a low voice. “The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family, even the children.”

“It is as she says,” said the man. “I killed a farmhold with my own hands. Eight people, not including the children. I have been convicted of murder and I await my fate here.”

“The darkspawn are coming,” Elizabeth said. “I do not think you will meet your fate at the hands of an executioner.”

“Cheerful,” said Morrigan cheerfully.

Elizabeth was thinking. He did not look friendly. He admitted to murder. But if he was left here, he would die an ignominous death in a cage at the hands of monsters. “What is your name?”

“I am Sten of the Beresaad,” the man answered, and stood, and she saw with wide eyes that he was a giant – a clear foot taller than her, and almost a foot taller than Alistair. “I am the vanguard of the Qunari people.”

“It must have been difficult to apprehend you,” Elizabeth said.

“I gave myself up.”

“You… I don’t understand?”

“I acted without honour, and now my life is forfeit.”

“If… If I asked for your help against the Blight, would you be able to restore your honour that way?”

“Elizabeth… what are you doing?” asked Alistair.

“I agree,” Leliana said. “He has been in that cage for twenty days. To die of starvation, or to be slain by the darkspawn… not even a murderer deserves that.”

“You are both disgustingly naive,” Morrigan muttered.

The giant regarded her with dark eyes. “Are you a Grey Warden, that you fight against the Blight?”

“I am,” Elizabeth said, lifting her chin at the implied challenge.

“I have heard legends of the Grey Wardens’ strength and skill. Though… it seems not all legends are true.”

“Hey!” Alistair said. “We’re doing the best we can, after our entire order was massacred.”

“I will fight against the Blight,” said the giant at length. “If you intend to release me, however, you must bargain with the chantry. They hold the keys to this prison.”

“I will return,” Elizabeth said, and walked back towards town.

Alistair jogged to catch up with her. “Are you crazy? We can’t trust a qunari!”

“I heard they prize their honour highly,” Elizabeth said. “Although they define it differently than we Fereldans do, they value it above all else in life. I agree with Leliana, that he cannot be left here to rot. I do not think he will betray us – although he does not seem to think well of us.”

“I will take care of him if he tries anything; don’t you worry your foolish little head,” Morrigan said mockingly to Alistair.

“I am glad,” Leliana said to Elizabeth. “I think we shall get along very well, you and I!”

Huan barked.

The Revered Mother of the chantry was understandably upset that Elizabeth intended to free the qunari, but though Alistair suggested invoking the Right of Conscription, she gave in without much of a fight, giving Elizabeth the key to the cage and the qunari’s armour that had been taken from him before.

“No weapon?” Elizabeth asked.

“He had none,” the Revered Mother sniffed, “for which our Templars are grateful. Be off with you, and remove him from Lothering as quickly as you can.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, saluting her with both hands crossed across her chest, and hurried back to the giant.

When he was released from the cage, he stretched, and Elizabeth realized just how tall and broad he was. She handed him his armour, trying to hide her intimidation.

When he had dressed, he turned to her, looking down on her. “I am Sten of the Beresaad, and I will follow you until my honour is restored. …Or you prove completely useless,” he added, with a contempt that told her he had not missed her fear.

Still, manners cost nothing. “Thank you, Sten. We are traveling to Redcliffe to begin building an army to fight the Blight. My name is Elizabeth.”

He grunted and nodded.

“We’ll take the highway,” Alistair said to her. “It’ll be more dangerous, but we can’t afford to go slowly but safely.”

“All right,” Elizabeth said. “I agree. Let’s find a way up if we can.”

They had marched for an hour when Huan stopped and began to sniff.

“What is it, boy?” Elizabeth said. “Is there danger?”

He barked, and went charging off.

“So much for the dog,” commented Morrigan drily.

But Leliana held up a hand for silence. “I hear… battle?”

“Let’s go, then,” Elizabeth said, her hand going to her sword.

“It’s darkspawn,” Alistair said, drawing his own sword. “I’m right behind you.”

They raced up the ancient road towards the sounds of combat.

 

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