Chapter One

Morrigan found the woman.

Long brown hair. Petite stature. Big brown eyes. Always the same faded red dress, the hem stained with mud. The woman called, "Where is she? Where's my baby? Where is she?" Morrigan watched from a distance as she looked around, bewildered, always calling. The woman who haunted her memories. How long had she been here? How many years? Morrigan knew not anymore. This woman. Who was she? Morrigan did not know. But she would never forget her. Never had she spoken to the woman. Never had the woman seen her. But on this night, Maker knows why, something changed. The woman looked at Morrigan, directly into her eyes. Fear, guilt spread through Morrigan's chest like ice. The woman's eyes widened. "Is she here?" she asked.

At a raven's call, Morrigan awoke. She saw swaying leaves and a dreary sky. Raising herself on an elbow, she looked at her surrounding and saw that she was on top of a ruined fortress. Darkspawn waddled below. Another night spent in the Wilds. Her mother would be displeased. Quickly she rolled up her bedroll and stashed it in her pack. She hopped from the roof and landed quietly. A darkspawn turned, but she was already gone, running swiftly in the shadows.

While searching for breakfast, she reflected on her travels in the Fade. With the return of the darkspawn, many new souls had entered the Fade. Some were lost and traumatized, screaming for loved ones, while others were stoic, almost peaceful, traveling the dreamworld silently and impassively. Morrigan did not speak to any of them, preferring to observe rather than interact. Dead men were still men. Apostates were rarely a welcome sight, Fade or not.

There were also mages. The Circle was preparing for the battle at Ostagar. Morrigan took extra care to stay clear of them. They were alive and would not hesitate to report an apostate to their Templar captors, she had no doubt.

And the woman. Morrigan had encountered her every night for the past few weeks. It had been so long since she saw her outside her mother's hut. Why was she here?

Lost in thought, Morrigan was eating wild berries when she heard footsteps approaching. Instinctively, she abandoned her breakfast and hid in the undergrowth. There were four of them. One was a Grey Warden who was blond and handsome in the typical sense, broad-shouldered with a symmetrical face. Another was a dark-haired rogue who spoke loudly and constantly and walked with a swagger. The other was a large, balding man with a sword and shield in his hands. The only female was a young red-headed mage, from the Circle, no doubt, based on her clean blue robes and inquisitive expression. Oddly though, she appeared to be leading the group, the Warden, rogue, and warrior following behind.

"How much longer is this going to take?" the rogue asked as they passed Morrigan. "I've got appointments to keep back at the keep."

"What kind of appointments could you possibly have?" the balding warrior asked.

"With ladies of course! I'm a very popular man, Ser Jory."

"We're about to go to battle...and you're worried about getting into ladies' tents?"said the warrior Jory.

"Of course!" he said "If I'm to die tomorrow, I want to die at least knowing that I had a beautiful woman the night before."

"You need to sort your priorities."

"Is that a joke? My priorities are the only ones sorted by the looks of it."

"The treaties haven't been seen for decades," the Warden interrupted. "This was never going to be a quick job."

"Alistair I'm surprised by you!" the rogue said. "Where's that positive attitude?"

They continued their banter until they were out of Morrigan's sight. Lately there had been many folks traversing the woods, and Morrigan relished the opportunity to observe them all, for she had so few chances to see anyone besides her mother. While she never approached them, she appreciated the peek into the outside world. She studied their clothes, their hairstyles, their manner of speaking. No detail went unnoticed, and she tried to memorize it all, piecing together a picture of what the world beyond the Wilds must look like.

This group was different in the sense that they were searching for something greater than medicinal herbs, and therefore were venturing further than most did. She rarely saw men so far from the gate. She pitied them. She knew they would never find the treaties. But it had been a long time since she had seen any Wardens. And she didn't often see Circle mages up close. She was curious about the girl's skill. Her empty stomach forgotten, she decided to follow them.

She was careful to hide in the shadows, because while the mage hardly spoke, she observed her surroundings with great fervor, as though she wished to memorize everything but didn't have enough time. But behind her curiosity, Morrigan saw weariness. The mage didn't engage in the rest of the party's banter. She was quick to flash smiles at her companions, the Grey Warden Alistair in particular, but they were small, merely whispers. Always something held her back from beaming, something akin to distrust or fear. Morrigan assumed it was imprisonment at the Circle that led to the girl's quiet melancholy, and she pitied her. Morrigan fiddled with the ring around her finger and experienced a rare moment of gratitude for her mother's protection and guidance. As much as she loathed her, the other option was too terrifying for Morrigan to bear.

Suddenly, the girl stopped. "I hear something."

Alistair approached and stood beside her. "Darkspawn," he said.

"How do you know?" the rogue asked. "I don't see anything."

"Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn," Alistair said impatiently. "They're close."

They all paused a moment, listening. Then the rogue huffed and walked ahead of them. "Come on, we've been fighting darkspawn all morning. What have we to be scared of?"

"Wait, Daveth!"

A loud, metallic snap rang through the forest as a bear trap bit the rogue Daveth's foot. "Maker have mercy!" he screamed, and suddenly, they were surrounded by darkspawn.

Arrows flew at them. Jory and Alistair raised their shields, and the mage ducked behind them. "Think it's a fight they want?" Alistair said, smirking at the mage. She did not return it. When the barrage stopped, she emerged and began freezing darkspawn that approached them. Jory and Alistair attacked while she cast spells at a frantic pace, freezing and boosting her companions, all the while dodging arrows and swords. She looked terrified. Morrigan felt a pang. As skilled as she was, this mage clearly wasn't used to battle.

Meanwhile, Daveth freed his foot, but deep cuts made him slow. "Does anyone have a poultice?!" he said, dodging a darkspawn before stabbing it in the neck. "Maker's breath."

The mage dug around in her pack, no pause in her casting, and threw one at him. "Here!"

He caught it and drank it quickly. His pace quickened, and he began moving fluidly through the battlefield.

Morrigan watched the battle from afar. They seemed to have a rhythm. Alistair and Jory kept the bulk of the force focused on them while Daveth stabbed the distracted enemies from behind, and the mage cast ice spells, healed, and enhanced her warrior companions. It was over in a few minutes, but the battle had taken it's toll. The mage took a lyrium flask from her pack, and drank it with shaking hands. A bit of color returned to her cheeks. She crouched near a darkspawn corpse, one of the many littering the area, while the men half-heartedly wiped blood from their faces and hands. All seemed exhausted. "We have to collect three vials," she said.

"Well, I'm not doing it," Daveth snapped. "Their blood seeps into your skin and kills you."

Ser Jory looked up from wiping blood from his eyes. "Is that true?!"

"No, it doesn't work like that," said Alistair. "Or it's quite rare, at least."

"It doesn't matter," Jory said. "I can't take that chance. My wife is with child!"

"We've all got families, you twat," Daveth said. "Hardly fit to be a warrior if you're so scared of dying."

"That's enough, you two," said Alistair.

"I would argue that a healthy fear of dying is what's kept me alive so long," Jory replied. "And what kind of family do you have that you ended up stealing on the streets of Denerim, from a Grey Warden at that? How stupid do you have to be to steal from a Grey Warden?"

"Ser Jory, stop."

"Well we can't all be so lucky to be raised in a bloody castle now, can we? I'm surprised you could tear yourself away from all the roast beef and wine. You're a true hero!"

While the men argued, Morrigan watched the young mage uncork a vial with her teeth and hold it against the darkspawn corpse. Her face was expressionless as it's black blood flowed into the bottle. She repeated this process three times until all were full, then she replaced the corks and rose to her feet, not a speck on her fingers. "It is finished," she said.

None of them heard her, the argument having escalated. Alistair stood between Ser Jory and Daveth. "I'd risk my life, and a lot more, if it meant ending the Blight," said Daveth.

"What could you possibly sacrifice that would be good enough to end a Blight?" Jory said.

"You want to know what I would sacrifice? I would sacrifice your pretty pregnant wife, right here, right now, if it meant finishing the Blight."

"You wouldn't!"

"That's enough, Daveth!"

"I would! I'd do it without thinking twice."

"You're despicable!"

"I'd cut her down in these woods, and leave her corpse to the wolves."

"You know not what you say!" Jory said. He lunged towards Daveth, colliding with Alistair.

Suddenly, a glyph appeared beneath their feet. It flashed brilliantly before sending all three men flying. Morrigan had hardly seen her move, but the mage stood in a stance, breathing hard, her short red hair disheveled, energy still crackling through it. "Do you want the whole darkspawn army hearing us?" she said. "Andraste's sake..." She ran a hand through her hair and walked towards the Warden, offering him a hand. "I'm sorry, Alistair. I didn't know what else to do."

He groaned and took her hand. "No worries," he said, winded. "I'd probably have done the same myself...if I could do magic."

She grinned and helped him up, blushing a bit when their eyes met. She mumbled something and flicked her staff, a green glow settling over his figure. He sighed with relief. A moment of silence fell between them, awkward with unspoken thoughts. "You know, uh," he said, "I think you'll be a much better Grey Warden than me if you...pass the Joining. You're better at leading."

She chuckled and tucked a stray piece of red hair behind her ear. Alistair fixated on her fingers. "I don't know about that," she said. "I'm not sure if knocking everyone to the ground constitutes good leading. But…" She held up the black vials. "I am halfway to being a Grey Warden. Just have to find the scrolls now."

He smiled sadly. "Yes. Not much longer now."

Morrigan was riveted. She had seen young love before, but only in glimpses, quietly spoken promises and sweet kisses on the outskirts of a village. Never had it unfolded before her so clearly. It made her uncomfortable, like she should look away. But she refused. Everything was a clue to the outside world. But the way they looked at each other, so full of hope, made her nauseous.

Daveth groaned loudly. "What in Andraste's tits was that?"

"Um, er," said Alistair, tearing his gaze from the mage's and turning towards the thief. "Thalia's gathered the blood, so let's just keep moving, alright?"

"Oh yes, let's just keep moving like nothing's happened," Jory said while rising to his feet. "Let's pretend like Daveth didn't say he would murder my wife and unborn child."

"You're the one who brought my family into it, mate."

Alistair held up a hand. "Enough. Both of you. You were both wrong. Let's just finish this and head back."

"Oh yeah? Well, what about her? Whatever happened to 'Magic is used used to serve man, and never to rule over him'? She's given me a bloody concussion. How are we to deal with that?"

Green mists formed around Daveth and Jory momentarily before fading away. Both stood up straighter and sighed. The mage Thalia said, "I'm sorry. But I wasn't going to stand by while you attacked each other. We're going to be Grey Wardens, for Andraste's sake. Grow up."

Morrigan sniggered. How amusing that the teenager was telling the grown men to grow up. She appreciated the girl's attitude and her skill. Perhaps the Circle wasn't completely useless after all.

The others appreciated her attitude a little less. "I won't be chastised by a little mageling girl," Jory said.

Thalia smirked. "Yes, a little mageling girl who sent you flying through the air without breaking a sweat," she said. "Your fear of magic is not unfounded, you know."

"Are you threatening me?" Jory asked.

She stared at him coldly. "I know the words," she said. "'Magic is used to serve men, and never to rule over him.' They've been spoken to me everyday since I can remember." She held his gaze and walked towards him until she stood directly in front of him. Quietly, she said, "You see me as a child, but I've seen things you've only seen in your worst nightmares. Those demons you're so scared of...they do exist. I've spoken to them...fought them. Perhaps...you shouldn't underestimate me."

Jory held her gaze, but swallowed. Morrigan could see that he was frightened, though the girl was barely as tall as his chest. Even the mightiest warriors fear what they do not know. It filled Morrigan with warmth.

"Oh don't be such a nug, Jory," interrupted Daveth. "We've got a Templar with us after all. She can't do anything he doesn't want her to."

A Templar? Morrigan went cold.

Blood rushed to Thalia's face, and she turned to Daveth. "He never took his vows."

All looked at Alistair. "Er, yes, um, it's true. I...I never took my vows."

"Yeah, but you're still trained, right?" Daveth asked. "You can still take her down if you need to."

Thalia stomped ahead. "Enough of this nonsense," she spat. "Let's just find the scrolls and be done with it.

Alistair watched her go, the others following slowly behind her. "I would never 'take her down,'" he said, annoyed. "I would never need to."

"Yeah, but you could," Daveth said.

"Personally, I think it's just common sense to bring a Templar with a mage," said Jory. "You never know when they might turn."

"Yeah, we all saw how scared you were of her just then, mate."

"Stop, Daveth," said Alistair.

Morrigan watched them go before quietly following them. What a bunch of idiots. A Templar? The Warden was trained as a Templar? The mage's budding romance suddenly seemed all the more disgusting. How could she betray her own kind by even considering a relationship with such a pious beast, vows or no? A romance between a Templar and a mage was too cliche and ridiculous for Morrigan to condone. It made her want to vomit.

For a long while, the group walked in silence, fighting the occasional group of darkspawn, but refusing to interact beyond that. The girl no longer smiled at Alistair, and she no longer took any interest in her surroundings. Instead she walked quickly and looked only straight ahead. Daveth and Jory followed her with similar dispositions. Alistair sulked.

They carried on like this for a long while, fighting darkspawn and collecting herbs, until Thalia stopped. "Is that...the old fortress?" she said.

Alistair continued walking until he was next to her. Putting his hands on his hips, he sighed and grinned. "Yes, I think that's it!"

"Thank the Maker," Daveth said as Thalia ran up the hill. The men followed slowly behind her. "I've had enough of these Wilds to last a lifetime."

"I want a hot bath when we get back," Jory said. "And a cup of mulled wine. Otherwise I don't think I'll ever get the cold out of my bones."

"I'm going to find a girl to warm my tent tonight," said Daveth.

"And I must write a letter to my wife, tell her what I did today."

"Maybe I'll find a few girls. After all, the skirts will fly when I tell them of today's feats."

"Yes, well...we must report back to Duncan first," said Alistair. "We've taken too long as it is."

They grumbled in response. At the ruined fortress, staring at a broken chest, Thalia stood with her back to them, her staff hanging limply at her side.

"Did you get them?" Daveth asked.

Thalia turned towards them. "They aren't here," she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

"What? What do you mean they aren't here?" Daveth rushed past her and looked at the empty chest for himself. "Maker's breath," he spat, kicking it and sending pieces flying.

Defeated, Jory found a rock to sit on while Alistair approached Thalia. She looked up at him. "What now?"

He stared at her unable to give her an answer. Morrigan could see that he longed to smooth her brow with his words, put a smile back on her face. Morrigan too felt a similar longing. It confused her, this emotion. Perhaps she saw something of herself in the young mage. Perhaps it was pity for her long imprisonment. Or perhaps it was simply the girl's pout. Regardless of the reason, Morrigan knew where the treaties were, for she had brought them to her mother herself many years ago.

And so, after fiddling with the ring around her finger for a few undecided moments, she took a breath and stepped out of the shadows.

2016/10/14 Hey guys, STORY REVAMP. More info on my profile. Thanks for reading! Don't hesitate to point out typos.