Dragon Age: The Hunt (Fanfiction) (Completed - Now with Art!) - Page 7 - Fan Creations

Be careful what you wish for...

Part 22 - Victims of Circumstance

“Alistair said I wouldn’t want to know what became of Turii,” Sindel said, wrapping a bandage around Asleena’s splinted leg. “He wouldn’t explain anything, except that she’d be…tainted and forced to reproduce. I thought that was bad enough in itself, but I can see now why he kept so silent.”

“Women have a different reaction to the Taint than men,” Asleena said, trying to concentrate on the discussion rather than the throbbing ache in her calf. “The darkspawn know this, and try to turn us. I’m sorry you had to see it.”

The elf shook her head slightly, her hands remaining steady in her work. “I am glad I saw it ended. Her spirit is free now. It is…good to know.” She hesitated. “Would…they have tried to turn you into one of those things?”

“Grey Wardens are—“ Asleena caught herself before she could give away secrets. Saying ‘tainted’ might raise awkward questions. “We’re different,” she amended, “and we have certain immunities. Darkspawn recognise us as a threat, so they’d just kill me.”

Sindel continued wrapping for a moment, then said in a careful voice, “I heard that when the people of your order reach a certain age, they go into the Deep Roads to die fighting the darkspawn. It has something to do with your long association with tainted creatures…it catches up with you in the end, despite your immunities, and you know when your time has come.” Asleena nodded at this, so Sindel continued. “Men who are tainted…go mad and eventually die. But women who are tainted…the strong ones…”

Asleena stared at her, feeling a physical twist of sickness in her gut at the implications.

“You know…” Alistair had said once back when they’d first met, “it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?”

By the Maker and all His works…

Was that the reason? Did the Wardens shy away from recruiting women because their ultimate end could be so much worse? Would she start mutating when her time became short? Could she even have normal children? Motherhood had never been a dream of hers, but now it sounded like it might be a sodding nightmare.

“I should not have brought it up, especially not here,” Sindel said apologetically, noticing Asleena’s expression. “It was imprudent of me.”

“No, I…it’s all right.” Asleena swallowed back bile. She felt ill, and her gaze was drawn back inexorably to the sagging hulk of the dead broodmother.

“It was just…I consider it brave of you, of all the Wardens. You could leave and never fight a darkspawn again. If you can sense them you can avoid them, avoid the Taint and its consequences, but you don’t.”

How little the world knows. How much we keep from them. And how few would willingly seek to join our ranks if they knew the truth.

“Asleena, you look like you’re about to empty your stomach,” Zevran’s voice remarked as the assassin himself bounded up beside them. “Not a flattering expression. I told you we should have moved out of this disgusting place…the stench is incredible.”

“Did you find anything?” Sindel asked, sparing Asleena from thinking of a reply.

Zevran flourished the items in his right hand. “One missing dagger and one dragonbone greave,” he said, handing both to Asleena, “one mage staff…Dalish make?”

Sindel looked at it. “It’s ironbark, but I don’t recognise the work. It may have been from another clan.”

“That’s all I found which was intact,” Zevran said. “Plenty of discarded weapons and ruined armour, all eaten by darkspawn blood I fear.”

“Bodies?” Asleena made herself ask.

The assassin shook his head. “Some remains, but nothing…fresh, as it were.”

“They might still be on the surface,” Sindel said, her words echoing Asleena’s thoughts. She finished tying the bandage and stood, stretching her shoulders. “If I leave now I might be able to find them before they release the river, and persuade them to wait long enough to get you both to safety.”

“What if they are dead?” Zevran pointed out.

“Then I fly back to camp and get help.” She and Zevran had already explained how the two of them had come to Asleena’s rescue, so the Grey Warden was aware of Sindel’s curious abilities. “There are still warriors there, and they will come if I order it. Halentir, our healer, is there as well. He can mend your leg,” she added to Asleena. “I’ve given it some support, but it won’t be at all pleasant to walk on. You shouldn’t even try.”

Asleena started to rise, then took Zevran’s hand when he offered it and got to her feet. Sure enough, any connection with the foot of her injured leg and the ground sent pain jolting through her body. “This is going to be annoying,” she growled. “And I can’t say I like the idea of waiting here of all places. There’s bound to be more darkspawn in the area.”

“Can you sense anything?”

“Mostly that,” she said, pointing at the broodmother. “It’s smothering everything else. We’re too close.”

“Waiting here may not be a wise decision at any rate,” Zevran pointed out. He looked at Sindel. “If the elves start to flood the earthwound before you reach them, or refuse to wait, Asleena and I will be swimming in more than darkspawn filth.”

The Keeper frowned thoughtfully, one finger tapping her staff. “If we find a good tunnel, one that looks like it actually goes somewhere, I can collapse it. That way, if the ravine floods you will not be at risk of drowning and free to find another way out. And if I return with aid, I can remove the rubble.”

Asleena and Zevran looked at each other. “Sounds like a plan,” the former said. “All right, let’s do this quickly. The sooner you fly out of here the better.” Asleena looked up where a few very faint stars could just be seen. Trying for an even tone, she added, “And keep a lookout for my dog, would you please?”

Sindel smiled for the first time Asleena had known the woman. “I will, Warden.”

“I saw an opening on the other side of the cavern when I was poking around,” Zevran said with a tilt of his head. “I did not explore, but now may be the time.”

“Check it out,” Asleena said with a nod. “Carefully, Zev.”

He grinned at her and handed over the staff he’d found so she could keep her balance on one leg unaided. “Trust me, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. And that’s saying something.” He hurried off and the two women followed more slowly to a jagged opening leading into the rock. The flicker of firelight could be seen where the passage bended, which looked promising. Even darkspawn needed light to negotiate the Deep Roads.

“Whether it leads to the surface or not I cannot say,” Zevran reported when he returned, “but it branches off in several directions and there are signs of activity.”

“That’s our path then.” Asleena looked at the Keeper. “Good luck, Sindel, and thanks for the help so far.”

“The honour is mine, Warden, and Zevran too. You have helped the Green Dales and we will not forget it.” The elf smiled again. “When we get you both out of here we’ll be able to thank you more appropriately, I hope. Is there any message you wish me to give your fellow Warden?”

Asleena could only stare at her for a moment, the question taking her by surprise. “A message…” she managed weakly, “right…”

Dear Alistair…

Asleena and Zevran fell into the earthwound and need your help getting out again. Please come soon?

No…Asleena fell into the earthwound and Zevran jumped after her, saving her life. Where were you? You did see her, right? Before she distracted you and got you stabbed by Shrieks…

Damn it…

Dear Alistair…please just be alive…

“Tell Alistair,” Zevran said dryly, “that Asleena, determined woman that she is, has hunted him down across the Waking Sea and the Free Marches, so it would be nice if he stayed in one place long enough for her to talk to him. No need to mention me, my dear Keeper.”

Sindel lifted a quizzical brow but nodded and raised her staff. “Into the tunnel then, and well away from the entrance. Mythral shield you, my friends.”

“Thanks for that,” Asleena murmured to Zevran.

He put an arm around her waist and took one of hers across his shoulder to help her limp into the passage, then looked at her thoughtfully. “What were you considering before, to look as ill as you did? Or was I right about this place simply smelling bad?”

“Sindel just said some things that made me realise how little I know about the consequences of being a Grey Warden. I was thinking about how differently men and women react to the Taint and…wondering at the reasons behind there being fewer female Wardens than male.”

“Are there? This I did not know.”

“Alistair mentioned it back when I joined. He didn’t know the reason either.” She snorted softly. “Lots of things were never explained, before or after. Not that there was ever time, I guess. Anyway, I was looking sick back there because…one day in the future, if I live that long, the Taint will have worked its way through my system and it’ll be time to head into the Deep Roads for one last fight before I die. I was wondering…what the symptoms of the Calling are if you’re a woman.” She hesitated, then said, “And I was wondering what would happen if…if I ever fell pregnant.”

“Do you desire children?”

“I could live happily without them, I think.” She shrugged. “It was just something that came to mind, that’s all. I’ll get some answers when we return to Denerim.” She limped to a halt and turned with Zevran to watch Sindel prepare her casting. “If I’m going to be Warden Commander of Ferelden, I’ll need to know stuff.”

“’Stuff?’” he echoed, looking amused.

“Yes.” She grinned at him. “All sorts of stuff. The good and the bad. Right now I could fit my extensive knowledge of Grey Warden attributes into a small egg cup. Darkspawn can sense us, we can sense them--” She froze then looked back to the Keeper, breath hissing in sharply.

There was movement. She could sense movement in the broodmother’s chamber.

“Get out of there!” Asleena shouted. “Run!”

Sindel’s face indicated she’d heard the warning; her face paled and her eyes widened, but she did not break off her incantation. Maybe she couldn’t, perhaps it was unsafe for a mage to do so, Asleena didn’t know, but it meant she was defenceless.

“We have to help her,” she said and tried to go back, but Zevran’s arm tightened around her waist as he restrained her.

“You cannot,” he warned, “she is collapsing the tunnel!”

“Damn you, let me go! They’ll try to turn her!” She wrenched free of him and made it precisely one step before her injured leg buckled beneath her and she fell to her knees with a snarl of pain.

Then there was a rumble of stone as the tunnel shook. Earth and bits of rock began to sift from the roof near the entrance, then collapse with a great roar. Through the diminishing gap, the falling stone and rising dust, Asleena caught a last glimpse of Sindel spinning to confront the Shriek that had suddenly loomed directly behind her, staff whirling, black hair flaring like a fan…then a darkspawn blade stabbed through the elf’s midriff.

…and the tunnel was sealed.

**

Zevran remained silent as the Grey Warden’s head bowed. He heard her swear, very very softly. He wondered if he should be feeling anything over what had just occurred. There was a little regret, perhaps…he had been the one to talk Sindel into coming down here after all, and there was every chance both he and Asleena would have perished without her aid. If the darkspawn did not kill the elf out of hand and had only injured her, she might still escape. The sharlock’s blow, though undoubtedly painful had not looked like a mortal one to him.

There was nothing he felt he could say to Asleena that would improve the situation, so he kept a watchful eye on the open section of passage behind them and waited her out. Practicality would dictate that she get up before long, get the body moving even if the mind lingered and brooded.

“Zev?” she asked after a while. “Can you please help me up?”

He could sense the apology in her voice, and reciprocated by complying. Neither of them really had to say it. They also knew, again without speaking, that they were most likely on their own getting out of here. No help would come.

Zevran couldn’t deny a guilty feeling of relief that the reunion with Alistair would be delayed, even if that meant putting off the possibility that the two Wardens would decide to go their separate ways for good. It was confusing, as muddling to his mind as the pleasure he took feeling the weight of Asleena’s body resting trustingly against his. He’d felt it before when he’d helped her down from the broodmother and half-carried her to Sindel for healing, and after releasing her to the Keeper’s care he’d made an excuse to scour the rest of the chamber just to escape the fog in his head.

“I didn’t thank you, did I, for swooping in and saving my life?” she said as they began their underground trek.

“Does this mean it’s now your turn to save my life, my dear?”

Her lips twitched at that. “Well…I suppose that can make up for both the Hunger Demon and Markham. Jumping down a chasm then scaling a broodmother is a story to be proud of. Might even top Fort Drakon.” Her fingers tightened a bit on his shoulder. “So, thanks.”

Zevran chuckled. “I remember asking you once if you could see me as anything other than an assassin. It would seem I do quite well at rescuing beautiful Grey Wardens in distress, no?”

It was hard to tell if that made her blush since both of them were still covered in darkspawn blood, but she rallied magnificently. “Careful there, Zev…you might ruin your reputation as a stone-cold killer. What would everyone think?”

“Hm, you’re right,” he said, feigning concern. “No one would take me seriously if that got out. Perhaps I should murder a few people when we reach the surface, just to be safe.”

Her eyes became shadowed. “We may have to if Sindel didn’t escape. The Dalish might not take kindly to the fact that we left with their Keeper and didn’t return with her.” She looked ahead with a frown. “But let’s worry about getting out of here first. I’ll let you know when I can sense any darkspawn.”

“Do you wish to avoid them?”

“Only if there are heavy concentrations,” she said grimly. “After what happened back there, I’d rather enjoy taking some of the bastards out along the way. Or, in my present state perhaps, luring them out and watching you reduce them to kibble.”

Zevran grinned. “Well then, I’m sure I can oblige. By the way, did I ever mention how incredibly irresistible you are when you talk about killing things like that?”

“No,” she muttered, and he was pretty sure she was blushing this time.

“It’s true,” he said, pressing his advantage mercilessly. “I saw it right from the start.”

“What? As in when I was talking about killing you?” They halted at a passage fork. The three new tunnels all looked pretty much the same, dark stone and roughly hewn. Asleena glanced down each, shook her head and nodded towards the one that went straight ahead. “I have no idea where we’ll end up. I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

“My dear…as has already been noted, I do believe I jumped in quite willingly.”

**

Time passed. It was hard to measure exactly how much while they were underground, but Zevran guessed hours at first, then an entire day when hunger began to knot his stomach. And if he was hungry, Asleena must be starving. They never had need to stop to eat, the problem being that neither of them had food as it had all been left with the horses, and neither had any idea of how the dwarves sustained themselves underground if bronto or nug was unavailable.

He and Asleena had fallen mostly silent after they reached the first expanse of dwarven architecture, a broad stone walkway not dissimilar to what could be found beneath Orzammar. Both assassin and Warden were preoccupied with listening for trouble, or feeling for it in Asleena’s case, and when they did break the quiet it was usually only a few words and rarely anything more than a discussion of which way to go or what strategy to use against foes that had been spotted.

There were quite a few scuffles, more perhaps than were strictly necessary, though Zevran never felt a need to complain and did not begrudge his companion’s need to indulge in a spot of violence. He always made a point of letting at least one get by him so she could make the kill, and she did so, usually sitting atop or leaning against some tumbled structure, a darkspawn-made crossbow she’d acquired cocked and ready. She’d become very good at shooting things straight through the head at point blank range, and he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or if she was deliberately allowing each subsequent target to get a little closer to her before firing. It was an assassin’s look he sometimes saw in her face, cold, calculating, satisfaction at the life taken, and it troubled him more than he was willing to admit.

Of greater concern to him was the fact the herbs Sindel had given Asleena to dull the pain of her leg had long since worn off after the first few hours. The Warden never let on, but Zevran had enough experience of pain to know she was doing her best to hide it and endure. The tightness along her jaw, the sweat on her brow and the touch of fever that began to show in her eyes were all too clear, and even though Zevran wanted nothing more than to try and keep her spirits up he had his own exhaustion to deal with and conversation, though good for morale perhaps, would only waste what energy they had left.

They ventured up any branch that had an ascending slope, and as fate or luck would have it one of these led to the surface. Zevran could smell the wash of damp forest air before they reached the opening, but waited until they were outside before he breathed a silent prayer of thanks.

“Nothing,” Asleena murmured when he asked if any darkspawn were about. “But,” she added with a hint of humour, “it’s not like some of them can’t just follow us up.”

It was night, and they had emerged on the side of a sharp incline. The wall of a forested cliff rose behind them and a steep tree-clogged slope fell away in front. From the outside, the cave looked like it might have been the den of a bear once.

Forcing his legs into motion again, Zevran helped Asleena down the trail skirting the cliff, but they did not get much further before she struck her foot against something, lost her balance, and nearly pitched both of them headfirst into the ground.

“Easy,” he whispered, holding her steady at the waist, but she was trembling with the effort of not crying out. When she shook her head he lowered her to the ground, pulled off a glove with his teeth and put his hand to her brow to check her temperature. It did not feel good and it was not likely to get better without someone who knew how to tend it. If he stayed with her he would have to sleep eventually, or leave to hunt down food for both of them. If they weren’t attacked he might be able to carry her…somewhere…

Alone, however, he could move faster and find help more swiftly.

She saw it in his eyes, he knew. With a practiced motion and a grimace of effort, she loaded her crossbow and sat it in her lap. “Go on, Zev,” she said. “I’ll do my best to stay alive, I promise.”

He nodded, drew his sword and handed it over, then dug several flasks from his pouch and set them down at her side. She could throw them easily enough while sitting, he thought. Unable to think of anything clever to say, he brushed his hand across her forehead again, feeling the heat and sweat against his palm, then he backed away, turned and moved down the moonlit trail at a run.

**

Her leg hurt and she felt hunger cramps to put the demon back near Ostwick to shame. They were all she could really think about anymore. For a little while she used it to keep her eyes open, but her vision was swimming with increasing dizziness and her thoughts felt sluggish. She felt hot but she couldn’t stop shivering. The only comfort was the stillness of her blood…there was nothing tainted about.

She dozed on and off, too tired to help it and not caring anymore if this meant she was weak. Half-dreams floated across her consciousness. Sometimes they almost seemed to layer with the forest…she could almost hear voices…

Something crackled nearby and she whirled the crossbow about, eyes flying open and finger moving without volition. The quarrel flew off into the trees and, from the solid thunk she heard, probably hit one of them. She hadn’t exactly been aiming.

She pulled out a new bolt and reloaded. Something was out there.

The trees stood silent watch around her, a slight breeze rustling the highest leaves. She lowered her weapon after a while but tried to remain alert now. Darkspawn and blighted creatures were not the only threats to find in the wild. Wild animals, maybe. Bandits and maleficar. Elves who had no love for humans.

She wished Zevran was still here. It felt strange having been carried so far by him recently, physically and emotionally, only to look and realise he wasn’t there anymore. He was probably as exhausted as she was and deserved better than running around a strange forest trying to save her life for the second time in as many days. Maybe she should be the one offering him the massage…or was that her fever talking? Her head was spinning again. What had he said to her before leaving? She couldn’t recall. She remembered…

…a concerned hand on her brow…

She reached up and felt with her fingers. Strange. There was a hand there right now.

Her eyes lifted, squinting at the tall figure beside her. It swam in and out of focus, finally resolving into an unmistakable form.

“Alistair?” she whispered faintly.

Dark brown eyes gazed down upon her. “My love.”

Modifié par Shadow of Light Dragon, 07 mars 2010 - 11:07 .

Dragon Age: The Hunt (Fanfiction) (Completed - Now with Art!)

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Dragon Age: The Hunt (Fanfiction) (Completed - Now with Art!)

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