Warning: This chapter touches on many sensitive issues, such as rape, physical abuse, and the death of a child.

XVII. It Began With a Death

"Please, be at peace, all of you. This is my sanctum and I do not wish to see it violated."

Aedan shifted his eyes as he and his companions walked into the ruin, looking around and mentally counting at least twenty different werewolves. Only when he had the measure of the large room did he turn his eyes to the strange and wild woman who was standing at the back, walking forward as if to confront him. Though her words asked for peace, Aedan wasn't fooled. These werewolves were violent, mad beasts, and he wouldn't endanger himself or his companions by falling for another one of their tricks.

They had already tried to trick him into peace once, with that offer of a parlay. Aedan hadn't believed them then, and he wouldn't believe them now. For all he knew, this woman standing on the raised dais at the back of the room, begging for peace, was a demon. How else could anyone explain a human-looking woman with greenish skin and roots wrapped around her body?

One of the werewolves–Aedan could have sworn it was the one who had spoken to them the previous day, who had threatened to kill them if they didn't return to the Dalish–growled and clenched his long claws. "They have slain those who guarded your sanctum, Lady! They seek to harm you!"

"I fear that what they seek is quite... something else." The strange woman took a few steps forward, but what caught Aedan's attention was that the werewolves stayed put. Though the ones in the room were crouched and growling, clearly ready to attack, they didn't move. Maybe they were waiting for this woman to order them? Aedan's mind raced. Was she their leader? What about Witherfang? Wasn't Witherfang a male?

She faced Aedan and his companions and inclined her head politely. "I bid you welcome, mortals. I am the Lady of the Forest."

Aedan stiffened. This lady sounded peaceful and soothing, as if she truly wanted to simply talk to them, but he wasn't fooled. He couldn't risk walking into a trap. "We're here for the heart of Witherfang. That's it. We have nothing to say to you."

"We can speak of Witherfang, in time," the Lady said calmly. "All I ask is that you first hear what it is I have to say."

"No, my lady!" The werewolf beside her was practically screaming. "We must protect you! We must attack them now!"

The Lady turned to him and pressed a hand to his cheek. "Hush, Swiftrunner. Your urge for battle has only seen the deaths of the ones you swore to protect. Is that what you want?"

The werewolf fell to his knee. "No, my lady. Anything but that!"

"Then, the time has come to set aside our rage and speak with these outsiders." She brushed a hand–Aedan noticed that instead of fingers she had long vines that wrapped around her arms and extended from her wrists–over the werewolf's cheek, before lifting her head and addressing the Wardens. "I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf. He... struggles with his nature."

"As do most of us," Morrigan commented dryly. Aedan stole a glance at the witch and saw an amused smile on her face.

But, the Lady seemed to take the witch's comment seriously. "Truer words were never spoken. But, few can claim the same struggles of these creatures; that their very nature is a curse forced upon them." She shook her head sadly. "No doubt you have questions, mortals. There are things Zathrian has not told you."

"I knew it!" Gloria suddenly exclaimed from her place beside Alistair, who protected her in battle. "I knew he was lying!"

Leliana, standing next to Aedan with her bow held ready, nodded solemnly. "Yes, we had feared that Zathrian had not been honest with us."

Aedan shook his head, wishing that they would have been quiet. The last thing he wanted was for the Lady to think she could fool them. "Just because we're fairly certain that Zathrian lied, doesn't mean we can be sure this Lady is going to tell us the truth."

Morrigan chuckled. "A fine point. No doubt these werewolves know that we are here to kill them. Would they not say anything to keep that from coming about?"

"I understand your hesitation," the Lady said calmly, as if Aedan's wariness didn't surprise her in the least. "All I ask is that you hear what I have to say. Then, you may decide how you wish to proceed."

Aedan hesitated. On the one hand, if he let his guard down, he would be opening himself and his companions to an attack. On the other, the Lady was staring at him as if she genuinely wanted him to listen. Was there harm in it? He could listen to them and still watch for an attack, couldn't he?

"Maybe we should hear her out," Alistair said quietly.

Aedan reluctantly nodded. "Very well, we'll hear what you have to say, Lady." He swept a hand out over the werewolves. "But, we're watching. If anyone thinks to attack us, or even moves in a way that could be seen as threatening, all discussion is over."

The Lady nodded and took another step forward, as if she realized she only had a few moments. "It was Zathrian who created this curse that these poor souls now suffer. The same curse his own Clan suffers from."

That caught Aedan off guard. He'd been almost certain that Zathrian had known more about the curse than he had said, but he hadn't expected that the Keeper himself had actually created it. He straightened up in shock, but quickly looked around at the werewolves to make sure they were still in place.

The Lady nodded at Aedan's surprise. "Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close to this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away." Her eyes fell to the ground. "Zathrian was a young man, then, with a son and daughter he loved greatly. While they were out hunting... the human tribe captured them."

She fell silent, and Swiftrunner got to his feet. "The boy... the humans tortured him. Killed him. The girl... they raped, and left for dead."

Aedan heard Gloria's muffled gasp and lowered his eyes, wishing he could be as horrified and shocked as she was. Though his own parents had raised him to never treat others in such a way, there were, unfortunately, a number of humans who did such things to elves, especially to the female elves.

"The girl learned later she was with child," Swiftrunner continued. "She... killed herself."

Aedan tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, but he could feel himself getting angry. His grip on his daggers was tight; he was starting to see where this was going to go. And, the worst of it was, he didn't know if he could blame Zathrian. What would Aedan do, if such horrific things ever happened to a child of his? What about Oren, his little nephew? His life stolen before it had even really begun, and for no other reason than Howe's greed. Aedan would go to the Void and beyond to avenge Oren's death. He'd sworn long ago to slit Howe's throat for what he had done to Aedan's family; what would he have done if Howe had done more than kill them? If he had violated their souls before breaking their bodies?

"So, Zathrian cursed them in revenge?" Aedan asked, his words clipped. "Good, I hope they suffered. They deserved that and more."

The Lady nodded as if she felt the same. "Indeed they did."

"Zathrian came to these ruins and summoned a terrible beast," Swiftrunner said, "binding it to the body of a great wolf. And so, Witherfang came to be. Witherfang hunted down the humans of the tribe. Many of them were killed, but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures..."

The Lady lowered her head. "Twisted and savage, just as Witherfang is himself. The cursed humans were driven into the forest. When their tribe finally left for good, their cursed brethren remained behind, pitiful and mindless animals, wandering the forest with no thought or purpose."

Again, Swiftrunner knelt before her, as if kneeling before a king. "Until we found you, my lady. You gave us peace."

The Lady put a hand on his head and looked up at Aedan. "I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed the rage in his heart, and his humanity soon emerged. He brought others to me."

Aedan didn't want to hear about the humanity of the werewolves. They still seemed savage enough to him. "Yet, when we first met Swiftrunner and attempted to talk to him, he attacked us and then swore to kill us if we didn't return to the Dalish. You can say that they aren't mindless beasts, and I will believe that. But, you can't claim that their humanity is what drives them."

"The curse cannot be entirely broken," the Lady said. "Each new victim it claims must be brought to me before the healing can begin."

"You can't heal a curse through magic alone," Gloria suddenly said. "A curse isn't like a wound or a sickness. At best, all a powerful healer can do is to delay or soften the effects."

The Lady nodded. "That is why we need Zathrian. We seek to end the curse. The crimes committed against his children were grave indeed, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead. Those who suffer now have done nothing!" She raised her head, for the first time looking angry. "Word was sent to Zathrian each time the landships passed this way, begging him to come, and each time he has ignored us. We will no longer be denied."

Swiftrunner jumped to his feet. "We spread the curse to his own people, so that he must come here and end it to save them!"

"Clever Zathrian," Morrigan chuckled. She smiled at the Lady and the werewolves. "He does seek to end the curse. He sent us here to find the heart of Witherfang for that exact purpose. I would guess he has no interest in anything else."

The Lady shook her head. "That will not do. Please, mortals, you must go to him. Bring him here. If he sees these creatures, if he hears their plight, surely he will agree to end the curse!"

"Zathrian is no fool," Leliana said. "Why would he agree to come here? He must know that he will only be putting himself in danger."

The Lady drew herself up. "Tell Zathrian this: if he comes, I will summon Witherfang. I possess the power to do so. I also have the power to ensure that Witherfang is never found. Tell him if he does not come, he will never find Witherfang, and he will never cure his people."

Aedan hesitated, as Leliana and Morrigan turned to look at him. Behind him, he could feel the eyes of Alistair and Gloria as well. Everyone waited for his decision.

Should he trust the Lady's story? He had to admit that her words seemed like the truth. And they explained everything, including why Zathrian hadn't told them much about the curse.

Did he care so much about the werewolves' plight that he was willing to risk Zathrian's anger and, in turn, potentially risk the promise of Dalish allies against the Blight? These creatures were suffering; that much he could see. They were suffering and, though he felt for them, their suffering was nothing against the danger of the Blight. Duncan had said that anything was worth ending the Blight, and Aedan had sworn to his dying father that he would honor the Wardens.

But, could he really turn his back on these werewolves, and kill them all in an attempt to find the heart of Witherfang? Could he stomach that?

Shit. What should he do?

oOo

"I must thank you again for that book that shall help me learn Grave Robber," Lilyth said smoothly as she picked her way over the rocks and fallen pillars of the ruins. "Aedan will not allow me to use Blood Sacrifice, you see, so when I use my blood magic, I cannot be healed."

"That is because he assumes that you will end up killing Alistair," Zevran chuckled.

"Grave Robber should solve that problem," Zathrian said calmly, not looking at either one of them. "As soon as someone dies, you will be able to use their blood. It will heal you as much as if you'd taken a potion or been healed by magic."

Lilyth paused as they reached the bottom of the wide staircase, in the first room of these ruins. When she'd seen the crumbling door from the outside, she hadn't expected it to be such a massive place underground. Where had such a thing come from?

"What is this place?" she asked as she watched Zathrian walk to the center of the room and bend down to inspect some of the rubble.

"It is an ancient Elvhen ruin from the days of Arlathan. The werewolves have used it as their place of hiding, which has prevented me from coming here in search of artifacts."

Zevran was looking around curiously. "It does not seem to be too dangerous. Why have you not come here before to end the curse?"

Zathrian straightened up, brushing the dust from his robes. "For all my power, I am not able to fight a large group of werewolves on my own. But, by the looks of it, your friends have already cut a wide path through here. Usually, I would have already expected to be ambushed by a few of those mindless ghi. If they have not come, it is because they are dead." A smile warmed his face. "Soon enough, your friends will have killed Witherfang, and I can end this curse."

A loud crash from the far side of the room made Lilyth jump. In an instant, Zevran was by her side with his daggers out, and Lilyth was reaching for her own. But Zathrian turned to the source of the noise calmly, as if he feared nothing.

Lilyth was surprised when a door slammed open and Aedan walked through with the others, all of them looking grim. As soon as they saw Lilyth, Zevran, and Zathrian, they stopped short.

"Ah, so here you all are," Zathrian said with a smile, seemingly the only one not surprised.

"You have already killed Witherfang?" Lilyth asked. Well, it seemed as though the Keeper was correct. Perhaps all those comments about the immense knowledge of Keepers was true.

"No, we haven't," Aedan said sharply, turning to glare at the Keeper.

Zathrian studied Aedan for a moment. "You haven't? Then, may I ask why you are leaving the ruins?"

Lilyth saw Aedan tense and frowned. He seemed to be mad about something. "So, you did know about the ruins," he said shortly. "One more thing you neglected to tell us."

Zathrian shrugged as if the accusation was pointless. "There was no need. I knew you would find them, and I did not care to waste your time with a history lesson, which had no bearing on your task." He gave Aedan a wry smile. "But, it does seem that the spirit has convinced you to act on her behalf. Might I inquire as to what she wants?"

"Spirit?" Lilyth asked. "What spirit?" Their talk was confusing her. Were they not here to kill a wolf?

"The Lady of the Forest," Gloria spat out, glaring at Zathrian with more anger than Lilyth had ever seen from her. "The Lady who guards the werewolves; who told us that you, Keeper, are the one who started this curse in the first place!"

Zathrian raised an eyebrow, looking at Gloria as if she were nothing more than a child throwing a tantrum. "You do realize that the Lady actually is Witherfang?" At the silence that greeted his statement, he gave a harsh smile. "She is the powerful spirit of the forest that I summoned long ago and bound to the body of a wolf. Her nature is that of the forest itself: beautiful and terrible, serene and savage, maiden and beast. She is the Lady and Witherfang both; two sides of the same being. The curse came from her, and those she afflicted with it became like her; twisted and savage beasts, as well as human."

"The curse first came from you!" Gloria shouted.

Zathrian scowled at her. "Those beasts attacked my Clan. I saw them then, and I saw that they were the same worthless savages that they have ever been. They deserve to be wiped out, not defended. They are the same wretched creatures their ancestors were."

Lilyth was growing irritated. She didn't understand what was going on, and she didn't like being kept in the dark. "I do not understand. Why did you call such a spirit in the first place?"

"Because of the humans who killed his children," Aedan said, his voice quiet and angry. "They tortured his son, killed him, and raped his daughter. When she found that she was with child, she killed herself."

Lilyth felt as though a tight hand had suddenly clamped over her throat. She turned to glare at Zathrian–wondering if he was doing something to her–but he was watching Aedan with a dark look on his face.

"I understand your anger, Zathrian," Aedan continued. "But, you've already avenged your children! Those werewolves down there with the Lady don't deserve their fate! Won't you at least talk to them, and consider ending this curse?"

"And, what say you to this, Lilyth? Do you agree that I should end the curse?"

Lilyth took a step back, though whether it was at Zathrian's question or the sly look on his face, she didn't know. "Why would you care for my opinion?" she asked slowly.

The Keeper allowed himself a smile. "Did you think that I asked you to come here with me solely so that I could teach you what I know of blood magic?"

"You're a blood mage?" Alistair exclaimed.

"Not now!" Aedan snapped, looking between Zathrian and Lilyth as if he wanted to see where this would go.

"Did you think I spoke to you in the Clan, and gave you my precious book, solely to ensure that you would keep my secret?" Zathrian continued calmly. "A secret that my Clan would never even have believed?"

"No, I did not." Lilyth kept her eyes fixed on the Keeper. She barely even noticed it when Zevran took a step closer to her. "I... suspected that you had a different reason, but... I did not know what it was."

"I'd known you were a blood mage the moment you set foot in my Clan, as you already know. Of course, at first, I'd only asked your Commander to leave you behind because I wished to see what a blood mage intended with my people. As you are no doubt aware, most blood mages do not trust one another. Especially the Dalish, who were conquered by blood mages." Zathrian rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked her over. "Did you not feel the flare of my magic as you walked throughout my Clan? I didn't trust you, and I didn't trust any of your words. So, I delved into your mind, searching for your thoughts, something to betray your true intentions with my Clan, and I found something quite interesting."

Lilyth's heart hammered in her chest. She could only imagine what he had found. Any of her thoughts, during her time in the Clan, had been open to him. Damn it! Why hadn't she thought to protect herself? How could she have been so careless as to forget what powerful blood mages could do? There was a reason no one could ever lie to Mistress Brinna. Against a powerful blood mage who knew what they were doing, thoughts could always give someone away. What had Lilyth been thinking about? What had Zathrian seen?

"I saw a dead little girl," the Keeper remarked quietly. "I saw a glimmer of satisfaction, a satisfaction I know very well. I do not know who that little girl was, but I do know that you had your revenge for her death."

"Yes," Lilyth said, lifting her shoulders and hiding her relief that Zathrian hadn't mentioned anything about the Mistress, and the things she had done to Lilyth. "I killed the ones who caused her death; those who did nothing while she bled out, those who ignored her when she cried." Recalled to the memories, it was as if a shadow passed over her. She'd done more than just kill them. She'd slaughtered them. And the man who had killed Letia, who had broken that beautiful little girl... Lilyth had brought him the greatest agony that had been in her power to give.

"Then, how can you judge what I did? Or, allow him to judge what I did? How can you allow your Commander to threaten me? He has accepted what you did, has he not? He overlooks your crimes for the greater benefit of your aid? Why would he not accept mine?"

In truth, Lilyth couldn't judge Zathrian. She didn't. She would have done the exact same. If she had been able to, she would have cursed every single person in the Alienage who had never once defended Letia. She would have cursed her mother, her father, and her brothers. She would have cursed them, their wives, and their children. She would have made sure that the name Letia was never forgotten; that each descendent of her parents walked every moment in shame; that the cloud of Letia's death hung over their heads; that her innocent blood stained their hands.

But, she hadn't had the power to do that. So, she had settled for slaughtering them. The mother who had lived in so much fear that she hadn't stepped in to save her daughter. The brothers, who weren't there to defend their little sister. And, the father, who had hit her too hard.

"It doesn't matter what Lilyth did or didn't do," Aedan said sharply, his voice cutting into the silence that had fallen over them all. "I am sorry for what your children suffered, and I am sorry for the pain that you still feel, but I can't allow this curse to continue. You, Zathrian, are going to end it. Your hunters will be healed, and I will have my Dalish army."

The Keeper scoffed. "I will do no such thing." He turned to Lilyth with a strange look, as if prompting her to say something.

Lilyth stared back at him and, for the first time, began to truly understand why Zathrian truly wanted her there. He wanted her to convince Aedan to help him. He must have known that Aedan was going to discover the origins of the curse, and he wanted someone on his side to defend what he had done. He must have thought that Lilyth, as one of Aedan's companions, could get him to listen to her.

But, the question was: did she want to defend him? Zathrian had invaded her mind, had lied and deceived them, and had taken precious days away from them; days they could have spent hiking towards Denerim, where Lilyth's freedom awaited. Did she wish to help him?

Yes, she did. Oddly enough, she felt a strange sort of kinship with Zathrian. Very few people were willing to go to such extremes to avenge the deaths of those precious to them. From what Lilyth had seen, most people tended to let pain weigh them down. It took an iron will to straighten up and punish those who deserved it.

Besides, Zathrian was still a powerful blood mage. Powerful enough to get in her head with such finesse that she hadn't even noticed! Which meant... was he in her head now? Where her thoughts truly her own? Lilyth took in a breath and closed her eyes, looking for a tendril of magic; something to indicate that he was in her head. She couldn't feel anything, but that didn't mean he was leaving her alone. Could she trust her thoughts? Even if she couldn't, Zathrian was still powerful...

"Aedan," she finally said, "I am of the opinion that you should follow Zathrian's plan and get the heart of Witherfang."

"You think I didn't think of that?" Aedan shouted. "But I saw those werewolves, who are cursed for no reason other than spite, and that Lady swore she'd hide Witherfang forever if Zathrian didn't agree to end the curse!"

The Keeper made a dismissive noise. "What the Lady wants is to save the werewolves. If I agree to end the curse with her, the werewolves are saved and my life is ended. But, with the heart of Witherfang, the werewolves are dead and I can heal my hunters. And, she is mistaken. She might be able to hide Witherfang from you, but I am quite capable of forcing her to bring him out."

"Why should we care what happens to you?" Aedan demanded. "You've done nothing but lie to us from the start, use us for your own purposes, and cause the very problem we're trying to stop!"

"He is also a very powerful blood mage," Lilyth said. Aedan turned his angry gaze towards her, and she stared back at him. "You said he swore to fight against the Archdemon with you. From the moment we set out to end the Blight, you have said that you will do anything to end it. If that is true, I would suggest that you would want a powerful blood mage at your side. A blood mage so powerful that he surpasses anything I have ever seen."

"She has a fair point," Morrigan said thoughtfully. "If he truly is a blood mage, and I see no reason why Lilyth would lie about this, then he must be quite powerful. Even I was not able to recognize his magic."

Aedan was quiet for a moment, and Gloria twisted around to stare at him. "You can't really be considering this, can you? Look at everything he did!"

"We can force him to end the curse and save those werewolves!" Alistair added sharply.

Lilyth saw that Aedan was rigid. He looked as if he was liable to snap at any moment. "Leliana," he finally said curtly, "what do you think?"

The sister lowered her eyes. "I swore to follow you, and so I leave this choice to you, Aedan. I believe that you have already decided, and I will follow whatever decision you make. I... though it saddens me, I can see why this is necessary."

Lilyth wasn't sure why Leliana would say that Aedan had already decided. To her, it looked as though he was waging an internal battle. He looked as if he was ready to kill all of them. Still, she could only hope that he would agree to Zathrian's request. The Keeper was a powerful blood mage; he had knowledge that even Mistress Brinna hadn't had access to.

After a few minutes of silence, Aedan scowled. "Very well," he said, his words tight with anger. "We'll get the heart of Witherfang. We'll go back there and kill them. But you, Zathrian, are going to help us with this. And, when we face the Archdemon, you are going to be right by my side, or I swear on Andraste I will kill you."

oOo

He could hear them. Laughing and singing, dancing around as if they didn't have a care in the world. It sickened him to his soul.

Aedan jabbed the point of his dagger into the ground, yanked it out, and jabbed it back in. Why should he be surprised that the Dalish were in an ecstasy of celebration?

Their hunters were cured, their Keeper was safe; they had their Clan back, hale and whole. Of course they were prancing around in a delirium of revelry, building up the fires for a massive feast, passing gifts to the outsiders who had saved them, begging them to join in the celebrations. To the Dalish, it must be the greatest day they could imagine.

It also seemed that Aedan was the only one who didn't want to join in. From his spot a short distance from the Clan, he could hear Gloria teasing and flirting with the Dalish men, and Alistair's voice raised as he drank and ate with the elders. Even Leliana seemed happy; her sweet voice, lifted in song, drifted back to him, almost as if to ask him to come and join them.

He couldn't stand to be around them.

No one had even bothered to ask what it had taken to free the Dalish from the curse. All the Dalish cared about was that their hunters were healthy again. All Zathrian cared about was that he was alive, and that no one knew of his treachery. All Alistair, Gloria, and Leliana seemed to care about was joining in the fun and putting the thought of the werewolves from their minds.

Sure, they'd been somewhat reluctant at first. They'd been upset at what they'd had to do to the werewolves. When the Dalish started celebrating, they'd tried to say no. But, they apparently didn't have Aedan's easy way of flatly saying 'no', since they eventually gave in. And, now, with the Dalish spirits flowing, it seemed as though they'd lost their earlier reluctance. Or maybe they were just eager to get drunk and forget what had happened. Either way, Aedan couldn't do it.

He could still see the werewolves, that was the worst part. He could still see the smile on the Lady's serene face when she had thought that they had brought Zathrian to end the curse. Then, the dawning anger when she had realized that they had only come back to kill.

She had turned to Aedan, her eyes pleading with him. She had asked him if what Zathrian had said was the truth; if Aedan and the others had come back solely to take the heart. And Aedan had only given her one word: yes. He hadn't trusted himself to say anything else.

She had screamed then. "Let us make an end to this wretched existence, once and for all!" And the werewolves had attacked.

Aedan jabbed the dagger into the ground again with more force. He had killed pitiable creatures, whose only crime had been that their ancestors had committed a terrible, unspeakable act. Their very existence had caused them pain and suffering and, instead of helping, Aedan had killed them.

He could still smell that terrible mixture of fur and blood. He could still hear them screaming, howling in a rage. They had counted on him to help cure them and, instead, he had stuck a dagger between their ribs.

Aedan sighed and leaned back against the tree, trying to push the sounds of the Dalish camp from his mind. He didn't want to hear them celebrating; he didn't want to endure their praise and thanks. He didn't want to watch them dance, or listen as they cheered for their Keeper, who had sent the Wardens out to end the curse.

In fact, he couldn't even bring himself to look at Zathrian. That lying Keeper looked so smug, so pleased with himself, that it was all Aedan could do to keep from punching him in his arrogant face.

Was this what Duncan had meant when he had said that the Grey Wardens did anything they could to end the Blight? When Aedan had first learned that Lilyth was a blood mage, and that Duncan had specifically recruited her for it, he hadn't seen it as the terror that Alistair had. To Aedan, her magic had been easy to accept. There was no demon possessing her, she didn't attack their allies or innocent bystanders, and she didn't threaten him or their companions, so he didn't have a problem with it. Though she, herself, was a terrible pain to deal with, he didn't hate her magic.

So, he hadn't really thought about what Duncan had meant by his words. Aedan hadn't realized the choices that he would have to make as the Warden-Commander. He had thought it would be simple: gather allies against the Blight. It had sounded so easy, so black and white.

Even when he had let Lilyth kill Isolde, it hadn't seemed so terrible. Lady Isolde had asked for it; she had been willing to die to save her son. To Aedan, it had made sense; much more sense to kill an adult than an innocent child. In the Tower, it was also straight forward. Kill the abominations, kill Uldred, save the mages. Simple.

But this... this was different. Aedan knew that he had made the best choice in terms of ending the Blight. Though he was angry that Lilyth had kept Zathrian's blood magic a secret from him, now that he knew, he couldn't deny that such a powerful blood mage was a useful ally to have. He had lived for centuries and, in that time, had grown stronger and stronger.

How could Aedan have turned down such a powerful ally? He was strong enough to get into Lilyth's head and gather information from her thoughts, and sly enough to use that information to have Lilyth–who, apparently, was the only one of them who could have understood Zathrian's actions–convince Aedan to agree to his request. And, he had been right. Aedan had agreed.

Still... that powerful ally had come at the terrible cost of so many innocents. Aedan hadn't wanted to kill them, not once he had learned the truth of what had happened. They had been just poor souls who had been cursed against their will and, after a lifetime of pain, he had been the instrument of their death. In order to gain a powerful ally against the Archdemon, Aedan had killed them. With no hesitation, no compassion, no emotion at all, he had stuck a blade between their ribs, only pulling it out to kill another one.

What would his father have said? Or Mother, or Fergus? Father had taught him to care for the poor and suffering. Fergus was his heir, but Father had taught them both to be good lords to those under them; to care for the starving as best they could, to provide shelter and aid to those in need. And yet, Aedan had tossed all those lessons away to gain an ally for the Blight.

The worst of it, the absolute worst, was that Aedan still didn't even know for sure if it had been needed. Zathrian had said that the only way for him to end the curse was by sacrificing himself, but what if he had been lying?

"I thought I would find you here."

Aedan jerked his head up, scowling at the sight of Morrigan. She had a large book in her hands, and a strange look on her face, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "What do you want?"

"I wished to speak with you."

He scowled. "Can't it wait? At least until morning?"

The witch shook her head. "I am afraid not. The sooner I tell you, the better. I have been studying Mother's grimoire. The one I found in the Circle Tower. You remember, yes?"

Ugh, why now? Aedan stuck the point of his dagger into the ground. "I remember."

"I wish to tell you what I have learned." She paused. " 'Tis worth your time to listen. It will only take a moment."

Aedan looked up at her curiously; there was something about the tense edge to her voice that managed to draw him out of his dark thoughts. "Very well. What is it?"

In one graceful movement she was sitting down next to him with the book open in her hands. " 'Tis... not what I had thought. I had hoped for a collection of her spells, or perhaps a map of the power that she is able to command..."

Aedan studied her profile. For someone normally so confident in herself, she suddenly looked troubled. "Did you find nothing, then?"

"No, there is much of interest in her writings. Things I did not know. One in particular that... well, allow me to explain it." She pointed to one of the pages, which was full of writing Aedan didn't recognize. Was it an arcane language maybe? "Here, in great detail, she explains how it is that she has lived for so long."

"Is it a type of spell?" Aedan didn't pretend to understand how magic worked. "That would be useful for you, wouldn't it?"

"Only if I happened to be an ancient abomination. And no, 'tis not a spell. Flemeth has raised many daughters over her long lifetime. There are many stories among the Chasind of these Witches of the Wild. Yet, for all these stories, I have never seen one and always wondered why that was so."

She looked down at the book. "And, now, I know. They are all Flemeth. When her body becomes old and wizened, she raises a daughter. Then, when the time is right, she takes the daughter's body for her own."

Aedan stared at her, but he couldn't find it in himself to be shocked. If Morrigan had approached him the previous day, or even that morning, he wouldn't have believed it. But, he had just seen proof that an ancient Keeper could summon a spirit and bind it to the body of an animal, creating a curse that had lasted for a few hundred years and cursed those who came into contact with it. As far as he was concerned, ancient mages could do all manner of things he never would've thought possible.

"I'm not sure I understand exactly what you're saying," he said slowly. "She... raises a daughter, then takes that daughter's body, to extend her life? How does she do it? And why would she risk sending you with me? The Blight is dangerous; isn't she worried you might get killed?"

"Perhaps the Blight threatens her as much as anyone else, I do not know. Perhaps she thinks I will grow in power while I am aiding you."

"So, how does she do it?"

Morrigan frowned. "Once, Flemeth was a mage. This was long before the creation of the Circle of Magi, but she wielded magical power of the same sort that the ancient shamans did." She looked up at the sky. "She summoned a demon and made it part of her, becoming an abomination. An abomination that has thrived. You know that most abominations soon become overrun by the demon that possesses them, yes?"

Aedan nodded; that had been made very clear to him during their trip in the Circle Tower.

" 'Tis not the case with Flemeth. Whether she has always been a demon, or has learned to master the demon, or has become one with it... I do not know. But, no matter what she is, her body still ages. That demon will keep her from dying of old age, but her body still deteriorates. Eventually, were she to remain as she is, she would become so wizened as to be senseless and immobile."

"So... she takes her daughter's body as a means for survival? To keep herself from staying alive while her body wastes away and becomes feeble?" Aedan winced. He was starting to see where this was going to go, and he couldn't blame Morrigan for wanting to speak with him at once.

The witch nodded. "Yes. I... am to be the next new... body she uses."

Damn. He'd been hoping that he was wrong. "So, since you know this, what are you going to do?"

"There is only one possible response to this: Flemeth needs to die." The witch's lips pressed together in an angry frown. "I will not sit about like an empty sack, waiting to be filled. Flemeth must be slain and I... I need your help to do it."

Aedan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, conscious of Morrigan studying him carefully. "Kill Flemeth... If not for her, Alistair, Lilyth, and I would have died at Ostagar. She saved our lives." He hesitated. Even though Flemeth had saved them, if she was really plotting to take Morrigan's body–and probably her life–what else could he do? Flemeth might have saved them... "But, so have you," he said out loud. "Your spells and hexes have saved our lives more than once. And you're... sure about this, right? You're absolutely positive? I don't want to confront Flemeth and possibly kill her if there's any chance that you're mistaken."

Morrigan nodded firmly. "I am. That is primarily what this tome details; the various daughters that Flemeth has acquired, their preparation and training. I recognize all of it, for these are things she has taught me. I am to be the next host. That was my... purpose."

Aedan frowned, absorbing all of this information. He wanted to know as much as possible before he committed. "Why do you need my help? Is it because she is such a powerful abomination that you don't think you can kill her on your own?" He paused. "And, if she is that strong, how are we supposed to kill her? If she's as ancient as you say, what am I supposed to do?"

"I need you to confront her for me." The witch looked down at the book in her hands and sighed. "If she is slain while I am nearby, I am not certain that she will not take possession of me right there. So, obviously, I cannot do it on my own. As to how you will do it..." She raised her eyes and looked at him. "I would suggest that you outlast her. You will soon notice that, though she may be wounded, Flemeth will not heal herself. So long as you make sure your healer is prepared, you will be fine. And... keep out of range. Flemeth uses... many spells that effect a large area."

"Okay... I can do that." Aedan thought for a minute before realizing that there really wasn't any choice. He couldn't just let Morrigan deal with this on her own. "Very well. I will help you. What do you need me to do?"

Morrigan let out a breath, looking more relieved than he'd ever seen her. "What needs to be done is for you to go back to Flemeth's hut in the Korcari Wilds, without me. Confront her, and slay her quickly. Even then, I doubt she will be truly dead, but it will take years for her to find a new host and recover her power... if such a thing is even possible. The thing I must have is her true grimoire. With it, I can defend myself against her power. Anything else in her hut is yours. Take what you like."

Aedan nodded. "Is there a time limit on this? We're planning to leave for Denerim tomorrow, to speak with Brother Genitivi. Will you be okay if we confront Flemeth after that?"

"The sooner she is dead, the sooner my mind is at ease. But, I am satisfied with waiting until after we are finished in Denerim." She paused for a moment, seeming mildly uncomfortable. "I... thank you. I had not expected you to agree so easily. I had worried that you would not believe me."

Aedan chuckled quietly. "Well, I won't lie; if you had told me all this before today, I might not have believed you. But... after what Zathrian did... well, it's not so hard to believe the things ancient mages are capable of."

"I understand." Morrigan's eyes trailed back to the Dalish camp, where the elves were still making merry with their companions. "Do you believe that Zathrian will honor his promise and stand beside the Grey Wardens against the Archdemon?"

Aedan's amusement died at her words. "He'd better. We slaughtered those werewolves to keep him on our side. If he's not there to face the Archdemon with us, I'll kill him."

The witch turned her head to look at him curiously. "You are not pleased with the outcome? You have the Dalish army you wished for." She paused as she studied his face. "I see... you did not wish to kill the werewolves."

"We could have ended the curse. They begged us to end it, and we knew that Zathrian was lying and using us. And still... I decided to kill them. To keep a powerful blood mage on our side I... ended their lives."

Morrigan nodded, as if she understood exactly what he was saying. "You did end their curse. Perhaps not in the way they had hoped for, but we are facing an Archdemon and a horde of darkspawn. You had the option of gaining a powerful ally for your army, or risking that ally for the sake of helping another. Against the darkspawn, you must always choose the powerful ally."

Aedan sighed. "Yes, I agree. But... I didn't want to kill them."

" 'Tis fewer than the darkspawn will kill, if they have their way."

"I know. But, somehow, that doesn't make it any easier."

Morrigan watched him curiously. "Yet, despite that you are not pleased with what you had to do, if given the option, would you do it again?"

Aedan took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I would," he admitted, though he hated himself for it. Still, he couldn't deny it. "Because, as you said, if given the chance, the darkspawn will kill thousands. We can't risk that. I just... wish it could have been handled differently."

Morrigan seemed to accept that answer. The two fell into a companionable silence, watching the camp from a distance.

oOo

Lilyth sat at the foot of the massive tree, holding her hands up in front of her. Situated so far away from the Dalish camp, there were a few open spots between the trees, allowing the big summertime moon to peek down. Lilyth smiled at how silvery the pale skin of her hands looked in the moonlight. Almost like hers had been.

She took in a breath and released enough energy to cause a few sparks of lightning to dance across her fingers. With one hand, she caught the lightning and swirled it around her wrist, watching the sparks flutter around her hand before sending it back to her other hand. It was mindless, easy, and soothed the whirlwind of her mind.

"What are you doing, my lovely Warden?"

Lilyth, who didn't need to look up to know who it was, didn't bother to take her eyes off the lightning dancing between her hands. "Nothing at all. I simply did not feel like celebrating with those barbarians. It is truly amazing how, after playing my part in the saving of their hunters, suddenly I am no longer 'flat-ear'. In fact, they are going quite out of their way to act as though they never called me that at all." She gave a hard laugh. "I had a strong urge to tell them about Zathrian's magic, if only to shut them up and see the looks on their faces, but I swore to keep his secret. So, I thought it best to leave."

Zevran sat down next to her, watching the lightning sparks she was playing with. "Ah, and here I thought you were tired of the constant admiration from the Dalish men."

Lilyth smiled. "Oh, them? No, I am quite used to men asking if they may sit next to me, or searching for any excuse at all to speak with me. However, I do have better things to do than listen to some elf who never bathes praising my eyes, or telling me how pretty my hair is. As if I need them to tell me!"

The assassin choked on a laugh. "I would have thought that, after Zathrian ignored your advances, you would have enjoyed having men admire you?"

"It is fine if they wish to admire me from a distance," Lilyth specified. "But, when I am sitting next to a fire attempting to read and they keep asking me if I wish to try the food, or stumbling over themselves as they thank me for helping their hunters... well, I can do without that type of behavior."

Zevran seemed to find that highly amusing. "Still, at least the whole Dalish Clan is not useless, since Zathrian has agreed to teach you more of his knowledge, yes? You are the reason Aedan did not kill him, after all."

Lilyth moved her fingers, watching the lightning flutter between her hands. "He is sending out messages to the other Clans and he has said he will gather them outside Redcliffe Village, in the hills around it. He told me that he cannot teach me more at the moment, but that when they gather to face the Archdemon, he can easily find an excuse to slip away from his Clan and train me."

"That is good, no?"

Lilyth frowned, her eyes on the sparks that danced on her fingertips. "You know as well as I that, once we reach Denerim, I intend to leave the Wardens. Still, I suppose it is good to have a such an ancient blood mage owe me his life. I may call on him before I leave Ferelden and ask that he train me then. However, before I allow him to train me, I must take care to protect myself from his magic. I do not care to have him see into my mind again."

Zevran was quiet for a minute, as if thinking about something. "Yes, I had wondered about that. Is that a common power among blood mages?"

"Yes and no," Lilyth said. "It is a difficult thing to learn, but most stronger blood mages know it. It is similar to blood binding someone, which is getting into their head and forcing or coercing them to do something. But, it is far more subtle than blood binding. Instead of forcing their actions, you are simply exploring what you find in their mind." She shrugged. "Of course, you can only see the thoughts they are currently thinking. It is not as if you could see everything that has ever been in their mind."

"Are you able to do it?"

Lilyth frowned. "No. It was not an art I learned. You understand, of course, that my blood magic training was put on hold for the eight years that I lived in the Tower. And, when I was young and first learned it with the others, Mistress Brinna only wished for us to learn enough to brand us as maleficarum."

"Yes, I understand," Zevran said quietly. He paused for a moment, but then looked at Lilyth. "But, I am curious about what Zathrian did see. The girl he saw was your sister, yes?"

Lilyth scowled. She'd been expecting that. Zevran was always wanting to ferret out information. But, what did the assassin want to know? He knew she had a sister that had been killed. What else did he need? "Yes," she said sharply. "My little sister, Letia."

"You never speak of her."

"And, so?" Lilyth was irritated. Why should he care who she did or didn't speak of?

The assassin shrugged. "You were thinking of her last night, no? That is how Zathrian saw her?"

Lilyth sighed and let go of the sparks of magic. "I think of her every night," she said quietly.

"Tell me about her."

Lilyth's head snapped up. "What?"

Zevran leaned back on his hands, turning his head to look at the lights of the Dalish fires. "I said: tell me about her. To be honest, when I first heard about her, I found it difficult to imagine you with any sort of family. I am curious to know what your sister was like."

Lilyth hesitated, not sure if she wanted to tell him anything about Letia. But, before she could stop herself, the words seemed to form on their own. "She was... beautiful. The most exquisite little girl you could ever imagine. Perfect."

She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. "She had hair like dark honey. When I brushed it for her, it was as if I held a golden waterfall in my hands. And her skin... I have never seen such skin in my life. She was so pale that her skin looked almost silver. And the bluest eyes you've ever seen, like beautiful sapphires." Lilyth sighed. "She was a gem. Like a delicate statue some artist had carefully crafted from precious metals and jewels."

Zevran was quiet for a moment. "How old was she when she died?"

"Only five." Lilyth pressed her lips together. "I cannot even imagine what sort of woman she would have become, for she was the sweetest child you could ever picture. She used to love stories, you know, especially those with beautiful maidens who were rescued by their handsome princes. Every night, before she fell asleep, she would ask me to tell her a story. At the time, I did not know how to read, so she would beg me to make up stories. And she adored sweets. Sometimes, I would steal a coin from Father's pocket and purchase her a pastry from the market. But, she would never eat it alone. She would always break it in half and make me share it with her."

The assassin smiled. "She sounds quite charming."

"Oh, she was. Everyone in the Alienage adored her." Lilyth scowled. They had adored her, but not enough to protect her. She clasped the crystal around her neck. It didn't matter. Soon enough, she'd figure out that book and discover how to use her necklace again. She'd find Letia's soul and put her in the amulet, giving her back the life she had missed.

"May I ask, what happened to her? I know that she was killed, but you have never said more than that."

Lilyth turned her head and eyed him suspiciously. "Why do you care?"

The assassin shrugged. "You know what happened with Rinna, yes? You saw her in the Fade. You know what I did. I just... well, I suppose it doesn't matter. If you do not wish to tell me, I will not press you."

Lilyth frowned. She had seen Rinna. She knew that Rinna had been someone that Zevran had cared about, and that, for some reason, Zevran had killed her. "My father," she finally said.

The assassin's eyes widened, and Lilyth sighed. She knew she would probably have to elaborate, and didn't care to wonder why she felt the need to tell him more. "My father... was a drunk. The Alienage... it is a poor place, as you no doubt know, and those who cannot afford food often take to drink." Lilyth's face grew dark as she voiced the memory. "When Father drank, he liked to yell. And, when he yelled, he liked to hit. Mother was too afraid of him to do anything more than remind us to keep out of his way. Normally, we slipped out of the house when Father drank, and only came home when he had fallen asleep. There were times when Letia and I would sleep at other houses the whole night."

She clenched her hands together in her lap. "There was one evening, when I was not home because I was helping my elder brother with some tasks. When we had finished, we came home..." She paused and took in a breath. "I do not know exactly what happened, but I saw Letia crumpled on the ground, and Father was shouting something at Mother. My two other brothers were not home, and no one was paying attention to Letia."

Lilyth hesitated. "I do not remember much after that. I know that Letia was lying on her back, that her eyes were closed and there was blood... she was dead. She had a deep cut on the back of her head, and her cheek was split open."

"How old were you at the time?" Zevran asked quietly.

"I was eight, and that was the night my magic manifested. I remember screaming. I remember wanting so badly to kill my parents. I remember that there was suddenly fire everywhere, and my elder brother had his arms around me and was lifting me in the air. After that..." Lilyth broke off and shrugged, as if none of it mattered. "The next thing I remember was that it was the middle of the day–though whether it was the next day or a few days after that, I do not know–and Father was accepting a bag of money from some woman. Elita, her name was. The walls of the house were blackened, as if they had been partially charred, and Elita grabbed me and took me from the house. I do not know if I said anything, or protested, or what. I remember being in a cart, and realizing that something was wrong. I remember screaming and fighting, and that Elita had her men bind me. Then, I was brought to the Mistress."

Zevran was silent for a minute. "But, you got your revenge, yes?"

Lilyth gave him a smile that held no humor. "Well, when I ran away from the Mistress, I could not just leave my family, could I? I went to my old house, where they were still living, and I killed them. Simple as that. The mother who was too frightened to defend her daughters, the brothers who never protected their sisters, and the father who caused it all."

"I see." The assassin looked angry. "That is... a terrible thing for a child to have gone through."

Lilyth waved his comment off, denying the anger she still felt. "Zevran, you do not need to give me empty words. I know you, yourself, were sold as a child, and from what you have told me about the Crows, and from my own time with the Mistress, I know that it is not such a strange thing to have gone through. Children are sold every day, and others are killed, through neglect or anger."

"Yes," the assassin conceded, "but, just because it is something that happens does not mean that it is okay. Your sister did not deserve to die, and you did not deserve to be sold."

Lilyth hesitated. She hadn't expected him to say something like that. "Neither did you," she said quietly.

The two of them were silent for a time, and Lilyth was unsure of what to say. Part of her was relieved at having told someone what had happened with Letia, at acknowledging her existence, and having told someone what a beautiful child she had been.

But, the other part of her was wary. She had only ever told one other person the full details of what had happened, and that man had only feigned concern. Foolish young girl that she had been, she had believed him when he had held her and asked to hear about Letia. He had held her and sworn that one day they'd run away together, away from the Mistress.

But, he had been lying. When Mistress Brinna had offered to free his family in exchange for undergoing a terrible experiment, he had accepted it without any thought of his promises to Lilyth. Then, he had been sold, and Lilyth had put him out of her memory. She shouldn't even be thinking about him now. For all she knew, he was dead. And, she didn't care.

"Zevran," she said quietly.

"Yes?"

"Do not tell anyone what I told you. I do not... just, I ask that you keep it to yourself."

The assassin smiled and reached over, covering her hand with his. "I swear, I will not say a word mi lirio de sangre. And, one day, I will also tell you about Rinna, since you have been so honest with me. But, for now, I have a question."

Lilyth narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean? You were calling me something else. Mi muj... jer... something, I cannot remember it, and you refused to tell me that. Now, you have a new name for me? What does it mean?"

Zevran laughed. "I might tell you, one day." He gave her hand a squeeze and let go.

Lilyth frowned at him. "Then, your question?"

His grin widened. "What do you know of poetry? Specifically, Antivan poetry?"

Lilyth was confused, and didn't bother to hide it. What a strange change of topic. "I... do not really know anything about poetry. I have heard poems, of course, but that is it. Why?"

"I am no master of serious conversation, you know," Zevran said, "and I thought, perhaps, I could say something to lighten the mood. I once heard a poem, you see. It was recited to me, if I recall correctly, by a rather wealthy target of mine. Let me see..." He cleared his throat as to prepare for it. " 'The symphony I see in thee; it whispers songs to me. Songs of hot breath upon my neck; songs of soft sighs by my head. Songs of nails upon my back; songs of thee come to my bed.' "

Lilyth stared at him for a moment before bursting out into a peal of laughter. "That was... terrible! A mark told you that? What was she hoping for? That you would kill her faster, simply to get her to stop speaking?"

Zevran grinned, sharing in the amusement. "Oh, I know, I know. I couldn't believe she actually thought that would convince me to spare her. I had sex with her anyway, but that goes without saying. She still had to die. But, the poem was amusing, and so I've always remembered it."

Lilyth snickered, her earlier bad mood slipping away in the face of such a ridiculous thing. "You slept with her? I can only hope her words in bed were better than her poem. Or, did she simply squeal and recite more horrid poetry?"

The assassin laughed. "You know, I am not completely sure. If I recall, her face was muffled against a pillow so that I did not have to hear her." As Lilyth continued laughing, Zevran grinned. "See, I knew a bit of naughty poetry would be just the thing to put a smile on that lovely face."

"Well, I suppose I should at least say that I appreciate the attempt?"

"Ah, it is nice to have one's attempts appreciated. You know, I do tend to make the best of whatever situation I find myself in, and it has served me well, most days. Perhaps you might wish to learn to do the same?"

Lilyth snorted. "Wise advice from the assassin who finds himself helping the very marks he failed to kill."

"You will never let me live that down, will you?" Zevran sighed dramatically. "You are such a cruel woman! Here I am, trying to make you smile, and your response is to hit me below the belt."

"Perhaps I am only making the best of my situation," she said shrewdly. "And finding ways to make myself laugh."

Zevran chuckled at that. "You are a clever little minx! Is it any wonder I chase after you as I do?"

That took the smile off her face, as he had probably known it would. She knew that Zevran enjoyed flirting with her, that he hoped to bed her, but whenever he made jokes about it, he usually said it so casually; as if it were a jest that she shouldn't bother to take seriously. But, for some reason, he sounded more serious this time. And she wasn't sure how to take it.

"What do you hope for, assassin? Why do you chase after me?"

Zevran gave her a smile. "Well, if you do not know, I am certainly not going to tell you. Where is the fun in that?"

Lilyth frowned at him, but that only made the assassin laugh.

A/N: Lots of thanks to Suilven, not only for waving her magical beta stick and fixing all my mistakes, but for also pointing out thoughts/suggestions that made this chapter so much better! Thank you for all your help sweetie!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, requested alerts, or are lurking. It really means a lot!