Yet Broken Still You Breathe

Chapter 2

"Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral animal claws at my ribcage, trapped." - Molly McCully Brown

**Trigger Warning - Mildly graphic descriptions of violence, cannon typical**

Finding out that Darcy was also a Grey Warden was not a welcome surprise, but in the heat of battle, it was not something Gwen could use any brain power to digest, lest she get run through by the undead overwhelming them.

Gwen's dagger was slick with dark blood as she yanked it out of the undead's ribcage. She spun around just in time to see another creature lunging towards her. With swift reflexes, she brought both daggers down in a protective stance, ready to fend off the attack that she had sensed coming from behind. She could handle a slash or two to her limbs, but she was rather reticent to have her internal organs spill out on the cold, dirty ground. Through the haze of battle, her eyes focused on the grey and blue armour the figure was wearing and she faltered. It was Alistair, and instead of moving in to attack, he had his back to her, guarding her from the enemies surrounding them. If he hadn't been there, she would have likely been skewered already. She'd gotten sloppy, though it was due to lack of sleep from fighting the never-ending onslaught of creatures for multiple nights in a row, she was still kicking herself for letting the Grey Warden sneak up on her like that. He could have very easily been waiting for her strength to wane and use that moment to strike, having realized the truth that rotted at her core.

"Thought you could use the help!" Alistair called to her over his shoulder as his mouth curved into a wide grin, revealing straight, white teeth. His eyes crinkled at the corners and shone with mischief and warmth.

"You're enjoying this a concerning amount." Gwen huffed, cutting down a corpse that had gotten too close, and moving to flank him as the undead pressed their attack

"What's not to love about putting the dead back where they belong?" Alistair bashed one creature with his shield, sending it careening away, and slashing at another, aimed perfectly for its neck and severing its still gnashing head. He grunted in disgust, "They don't know when to quit."

Gwen laughed lowly, but all banter ceased as another wave emerged from the castle.

By the time they had dispatched the last of the undead, bodies littering the ground, Gwen was surprised to find herself still standing. She'd had her fair share of tough fights, still, the exhaustion from previous nights coupled with the sheer intensity of their enemies from the most recent fight had her staggering. She collapsed in a controlled fall onto the blood-soaked ground, catching herself on her hands and knees so she didn't tilt forward and face plant in the grotesque remains of the body in front of her. She let her eyes close for a moment her breath coming rapid and hot as she took a moment to let the dizziness fade. The smell of sweat covered her, a mix of salt and stale air. Underneath the fabric of her bandana, there was a faint hint of metal, like the tang of iron after a rain. As she peeled it just an inch off her skin, the musty scent intensified, mixed with the thick odour of blood and death. The air beneath the cloth was thick and humid, carrying the metallic scent with each breath she took.

Gwen slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the harsh light that shone from the sun peeking over the horizon. As her vision adjusted, she saw a small glass container in front of her, filled with a bright red liquid that seemed to glow. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing, the tanned hand that held it registering as safe in her tired brain, despite her confusion, and she didn't jump back any further. Instead, she looked up at the tired - yet still somehow cheery - face of the Grey Warden who had fought alongside her for most of the night. Not to be mistaken with the other Grey Warden who had fought closely with his dog and the apostate - whose sneer, Gwen had discovered, never left her face, no matter the situation.