Dragon Age Origins : Original Fan-Fiction

Power of the Ring

Chapter Seventeen: The Undead Siege Part One

I made a mess of things, didn't I? Darrian thought woefully as he lead the group in their silent march towards Redcliffe. I never thought she would... I knew she would react that way. But I went and ruined it all. He sighed heavily. Duncan muzzled the elf's hand affectionately, giving a soft whine.

"I'm okay boy." Darrian patted his mabari hound on the muzzle.

" 'Tis getting quite dark, Warden." Morrigan's sharp voice came from behind him. The word warden stung like a dagger in his heart. "Perhaps it would be best if we made the rest of the way to Redcliffe on the morrow?"

Darrian turned to look at her, and her cross expression made him smile sadly. "Oh. Yes. Of course. There's a clearing over there." He half heartedly gestured as he turned away from her again.

"This is how it will be then? You will not even engage me in simple conversation?" Morrigan asked as she reached out and grabbed Darrian's arm while the others moved to make camp. Zevran paused, as if expecting another show, but Alistair and Sten grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up before dragging him away.

Darrian turned back towards Morrigan, with a slightly amused smile. "Morrigan, despite what you might feel for me, I will always enjoy talking to you. You're a brilliant and entertaining woman." Maker, I'm laying it on a bit thick. "However, pointing out that its quite dark isn't the best way to engage me in lengthy conversation. If that was so your desire, I'm sure there are at least a dozen more indepth topics you could choose from." His retorted, his smile twisting slightly.

"... ... Do you think ill of me now?" Morrigan asked, a wounded tone in her voice. She withdrew her hand from his arm and crossed her arms as she glanced away.

Darrian's expression softened. Maker... Morrigan... Is she... she's acting so insecure. Almost without realizing what he was doing, Darrian took a step towards her and gently placed a hand on her cheek. He was about to speak when he finally registered the wetness beneath his fingertips.

Had Morrigan been... crying? Not that she would admit it to anyone, of course. But.. Yes. Her eyes are slightly red. Oh dear.

"I'm a fool, remember?" He said in a cheerier voice then he felt. "I don't think I'm capable of thinking ill of you." Darrian resisted the urge to tease her, he did not want her retreating any farther from him then she already had.

"You are indeed a fool." Morrigan huffed, pulling her cheek away from his hand, but not before he caught glimpse of a small smile on her lips. "Even I would not wish to associate with someone who wou-" She paused, blushing momentarily before regaining her composure. " Could not return my feelings." Darrian broke out in a wide grin, then he started to laugh. In fact, he started to laugh so hard he was having trouble standing.

"Wha-what is this?" Morrigan sounded rightfully offended.

"I-I'm sorry..." Darrian said as he struggled to stop laughing. "Its just..." He wiped mirthful tears from his face. "I guess you don't realize how ridiculous the idea of hating you is to me. How... impossible the idea that I would not want to speak with you any more is." The elf straightened up and regained his composure. "Look. Morrigan. I didn't fall in love with some false ideal of how you should be. I fell in love with you. Sarcastic witch that you are. I wouldn't expect you to express emotion you do not have."

Morrigan's face flushed again, this time with rage. "You insolent elf! You think I incapable of love?!" The moment the words left her mouth, she seemed ashamed of having spoken them.

Darrian tilted his head to the side curiously. "Are you? You've never spoken fondly of it."

" 'tis true. Perhaps... I have not given it proper thought." She muttered, glancing away again.

"Give it some thought, if you want." Darrian shrugged.

"Are you asking this of me?"

Darrian shook his head. "No. If you want to question yourself, its on you. I'm never going to question a thing about you."

Morrigan looked at his curiously. "You... are a strange man, Darrian."

"Oh? No longer Warden, am I?" Darrian jested before he could stop himself. Morrigan did not react like he would of expected. Instead of a cross look of disapproval she simply smirked.

"No, I suppose you are not. Now come, before Alistair attempts to make lamb stew again."

Tis most disturbing. Morrigan thought that evening as she lay in her tent admist the furs she slept on. By her side lay Darrian's silent and sleeping form. She had invited him to her tent once more, feigning cold. He had accepted, but only to talk and he had inadvertantly fallen asleep. The witch had not found it within her to wake him and send him away. What a foolish woman I am. This was only a game... a fling. A way to pass the time. Merely two people of a similar mind enjoying each other. When did I get so involved? When did the pain in Darrian's eyes upset me so? She sat up, stretching, gazing over at Darrian. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

"Damn you, elf." Morrigan muttered to herself as she stood and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and slipped out of her tent. Sten was stoically standing guard, but made no motion to stop her as she slipped out of the camp's boundaries and walked a few paces into the underbrush. As she walked a bit farther from camp, she shifted into a wolf.

Perhaps a run through the forest will clear my mind. Morrigan hoped as she dashed forward, the powerful canine shape she had adopted propelling her quickly along the forest's floor. For a few minutes it was as if she was back in the Wilds, back where things made sense and she had no reason to doubt.

In the Wilds things were simplier. Survival, strength, instinct... these were what mattered. Not loyalty, not love. A wolf's heart did not flutter about like petals on the breeze. A hawk only thought about catching its next meal.

You are not an animal, Morrigan. A voice gnawed at her. You are a flesh and blood human woman. With dreams, desires, and hopes.

I do not know how. Morrigan admitted as she came to a stop by a small stream. My mother did not teach me how not to act like an animal. She did not teach me the values of affection, of companionship... of love.

Is this truly something I can learn on my own? It would defy Mother's teachings, surely. There is no strength to be had, nothing to gain from sharing one's life solely with one other.

She settled herself down by the stream, crossing her paws and placidly laying her head on top of them.

There is nothing to be gained.

Morrigan was back in the tent, sleeping soundly with her back to Darrian when he awoke. He yawned, then instinctively leaned over to kiss the witch awake. He paused halfway through, but decided to do it anyway. After planting a soft kiss on Morrigan's temple, Darrian stretched and then slipped out of Morrigan's tent.

"Rauuff!" Duncan barked as he stirred from his resting place at the entrance to Morrigan's tent. Darrian reached over and scratched the mabari's ear before heading to start the camp fire and start breakfast. He was surprised to see Alistair already awake and fully clad in armor, poking the fire absentmindedly with a stick.

"You should be careful with that." Darrian cautioned with a grin. "Send a spark the wrong way, and you're likely to ignite the fumes coming from Oghren's tent."

Alistair just mumbled in response, still poking the fire.

"Hey." Darrian stepped closer, leaning down to put his face in Alistair's line of sight. "Yo. Shemlen. Are you trying to set the camp ablaze? What's wrong with you?"

Alistair jerked his head back in surprise, with so much force he ended up toppling backwards off his seat and landing hard on the ground. "Ahh Oww... Damn it, did you have to surprise me like that?" He rubbed his head as he got back into a sitting position.

"Alistair. I wasn't exactly being sneaky. I stepped on every crunchy leaf and twig I could find on the way from the other side of camp, straight to you." Darrian glanced over at Morrigan's tent then back to Alistair. "Which is all straight in your line of sight. Is this how you keep watch? If so, you're terrible at it."

"Wha-Oh.." Alistair looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry... I... I just have a lot on my mind, I suppose."

Darrian sat down in the dirt near Alistair while the others roused themselves and began packing up camp. "Hm? Well?" The elf looked at the ex-templar expectantly.

"Well what?"

"What's on your mind? You always tell me." Darrian stated a matter of factly.

"I do not!" Alistair denied it, looking slightly flustered. "... Okay, well maybe I do. But that's only because there's no one else to talk to in this blasted camp." He mumbled, avoiding Darrian's gaze.

"Other then a false chantry sister, a witch, a mabari, a qunari, a dwarf and an assassin?" Darrian responded, raising a brow.

"Other then a woman, an evil evil witch woman, a dog that won't listen to me, a tall tall man that won't respond to me, a dwarf who wouldn't comprehend me due to his inebriation, and the elf that tried to kill us?" Alistair replied with a snarky grin. " Kinda leaves the elven bastard that I punched once and have to save the world with."

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and won't ask why you don't want to talk to a woman about it..." Darrian's eyes went wide and he scooted a bit away from Alistair. "It isn't... THAT... kind of problem, is it?"

"That kind? What do you mean..."Alistair paused, his face flushing deeply as comprehension dawned on him. "DEAR MAKER NO!" He shouted. "NO NO NO!" He shook his head with each no.

"Huh. Too bad. So you didn't read Gwen's letter?"

"What? Of course not!" Alistair blushed even harder.

"So you're over denying the fact you have eyes for her?" Darrian smirked widely.

"S-shut up, you!" Alistair wagged his finger threateningly at Darrian. "This has nothing to do with her, or any other woman. Its... Its something I should of told you a long time ago.. I was just afraid..."

"I'm sorry, Alistair. You're not my type. " Darrian was grinning again. Alistair's eyes went wide, but he eventually broke out in a smile as he slugged Darrian hard on the shoulder.

"Shut up, I'm serious!" Alistair pleaded.

"Really? For once? Should I mark this day on the calendar?" Darrian dodged another blow, scrambling to his feet. "Look, I'll stop. And I'll listen, but we've got to do our share of breaking camp or Morrigan is never going to stop glaring at us."

Both Wardens turned their heads simultaneously towards where Morrigan stood, and she was indeed looking quite disapprovingly at their antics.

"Uh... Yeah. Good point."

Mere minutes later, camp was packed. Mostly due to Darrian and Alistair's haste to get out of Morrigan's disapproving glare. Once they began their march, Alistair pulled Darrian to the side to finish their discussion.

"Look. We'll be in Redcliffe by mid-afternoon, right?" Alistair began.

"Yeah.. If the maps we got at Chapel are accurate."

"Remember how I told you I was raised by Arl Eamon?" Alistair asked. Darrian nodded. "And how he raised me because I was a bastard and all that?" Again Darrian nodded, wondering where Alistair could possibly be going with this. "Well... The reason Arl Eamon took me in is because... I was Maric's son. Bastard son."

Darrian stopped walking, causing Zevran to call out. "Are we having more entertainment? What fun!" He was promptly ignored as Darrian began moving again.

"Wait. So... You and that..shemlen king, Cailian... Are were half brothers?" Darrian worked it out in his mind, though he was having trouble grasping this. "I guess... Wait. " With that, the elf reached up and grabbed Alistair's face and turned it towards him. "Huh. You do sort of look like him."

Alistair wretched his face away, then rubbed his cheeks with the palms of his hands. "Yes well... I know I should of told you..."

"Hmm. Does that greasy shem know?" Darrian scratched his chin while he continued to think, wishing once again for a beard.

"Greasy shem... You mean Loghain?" Alistair looked contemplative for a moment. "Probably.. He was King Maric's friend.

"Then he knows you're an heir to the throne. A stronger one then he or his daughter Anora would be." Darrian worked it out.

"Wait.. No! I am no way whatsoever in line for any sort of royal position! That was always perfectly clear to me. Really!" Alistair protested, waving his arms.

"Not no. Yes. These aren't regular circumstances, Alistair. Ferelden's king is dead, with out an heir. It would fall to a sibling to take on the throne." Darrian glanced sidelong at Alistair. "If a sibling could be found. Regardless of whether or not that is a motive of yours... That damned greasy shemlen is going to assume it is your prime motive. Therefore, we have to consider it."

Alistair's brow furrowed, it was obvious he was quite uncomfortable with this.

"And that's why you told me now, isn't it?" Darrian looked at the other Warden with a knowing look in his eye. "Because this Arl Eamon is going to bring it up, and that will probably be his plan, whether you like it or not."

"...Yeah." Alistair muttered. "Look, I'm sorry..."

"Stop. You don't need to apologize. Sure, it came up in conversation before, but I rather liked your explanation of being raised by devote flying dogs." Darrian grinned and nudged Alistair in the shoulder. "Don't worry... Just because you're royalty doesn't mean I'll start treating you any different. I mean, have you paid any attention at all at how I treat nobles and such?"

That made Alistair chuckle loudly. "I guess I shouldn't be too worr- WAIT. Does that mean you're going to treat me worse now?!"

Darrian shook his head, looking amused. "Nope. Believe it or not, I consider you a friend, shem. That's all that matters to me."

Alistair looked slightly teary eye, and Darrian threw up his hands to block off any attempts at hugging.

"You getting caught up in the moment again? Go hug Zevran. He's accepting all my gratitude this week."

"Why yes, good Warden." Zevran piped up, spreading his arms open. "I am willing to accept any gratitude you might have!"

"And like that... the moment is gone." Alistair sighed.

A few of the companions chuckled from behind them. Darrian clapped Alistair on the shoulder. "Come on. Redcliffe is close by. It will be nice to be able to sleep on a soft bed and a warm bath."

Hours later, they were at Redcliffe. They were met by a man named Tomas, who thought they had come to aid them against the nightly attacks on the village. As they were led to the Chantry to see some man Alistair seemed to know, Darrian became quickly aware that his hopes of a soft bed and a warm bath would not be met that day.

Why. Why can't anything go smoothly. Just once. Darrian grimaced as they were led through town. A nicely bearded man was barking orders to men who looked as though they had no business wielding weapons and yet they were going through practice drills. To their credit, they looked very determined.

Whats been going on... Tomas mentioned nightly attacks... The town looks so empty, and no soldiers, no knights? Where is the army Alistair said this Arl Eamon commanded? Darrian wondered as they finally climbed the Chantry's steps and entered.

It was as crammed as the one they had seen in Lothering, though instead of being packed with refugees, it was full of Redcliffe citizens. Or at least, Darrian assumed thats who they were. Women, children, and the elderly, those who could not wield a weapon. Ah. Now I understand why those men outside are fighting so hard. The elf nodded in approval, glancing momentarily at Morrigan. I would gladly sacrifice my life... He shook his head, dismissing that though and instead focusing on the man they were approaching.

It was a dignified looking shemlen, dressed like a less then fancy noble. He looked tired and weary.

"Tomas, is everything all right? Who is this with you?" The man asked, looking concerned.

"Bann Teagan, this is a Grey Warden, he's come to Redcliffe to speak with Arl Eamon... It doesn't seem like anyone knows what has been happening here." Tomas said weakly.

"Very good, thank you Tomas. " Teagan nodded. "Return to your post."

"Teagan?" Alistair grinned. "I remember you, but last time I saw you, I was covered in mud."

"Mud...?" Teagan looked at him questioningly then his eyes brightened. "Alistair! It is you! You've survived!"

"Okay great, a reunion. Now, what's been going on? Nightly attacks?" Darrian interrupted rather rudely.

"Oh yes, of course..." Bann Teagan nodded then began to explain the situation. During the night for the past week, hordes of walking corpses had cascaded from the castle attacking the town. Sometimes they slaughtered the villagers, sometimes they dragged them back to the castle. Bann Teagan also told them that Arl Eamon had been ill for quite some time, and that the Arlessa Isolde has commanded the knights of Redcliffe to go search for an ancient relic inorder to save him.

More people to save. Darrian thought grimly, however this time was different then with the dwarves. It wasn't a bunch of nobles playing stupid games because they would not agree on a successor. This was genuine danger, and the town would be fighting as well. This shemlen noble was also willing to risk his life. Darrian also did not have a treaty to force aide from Red Cliffe. Even if he did, they were in no position to help him.

Darrian sighed heavily, and glanced over at Alistair. I have to help, as annoying as it is. These people... Walking corpses, dark magic. And that fool, Alistair. This Bann Teagan was family to him... I can not deny him aide.

"Today is your lucky day, Teagan. I'll help you defend the city, just tell me what to do." Darrian announced.