Into the Woods (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Come Together

Morrigan's wings bore her, with her dwarven passenger, swiftly to the clearing where Wulfric still knelt next to Oghren's slowly de-petrifying body. No sooner had she touched ground and felt Varric's weight slide from her back than she had resumed her human form and was running across the grass to Wulfric. She would never forget the look on his tear-stained face as he turned to look up at her.

"I'm sorry, Morrigan. I trusted him—he was my friend! I don't know why he would do this." Wulfric's voice was cracked and broken, and Morrigan had to strain to understand his words, although his meaning was perfectly clear.

She knelt next to him, putting her arms around his broad shoulders, speechless. All the way here, she had berated him in her head for his trusting nature, for the foolish confidence he reposed in those he considered friends, had planned to express her displeasure in no uncertain terms as soon as she reached him ... but it was evident to her that he had scolded himself to far greater purpose than she could. No words of hers could be more scathing than the ones he had used on himself. And if she was to return him to his usual strength and confidence, to bolster their relationship in the face of this newest threat, to rebuild his usefulness in this crisis, she would have to lay aside the blame she had placed on him and practice something entirely foreign to her nature—forgiveness.

"You ... could not have known what he has become capable of," she said stiffly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing in any of the stories you have told would have led me to believe he could conceive of this plan, much less accomplish it."

"Ain't it the truth," Oghren muttered thickly. "Who'da thought Sparklefingers'd've attacked me?"

Appearing oblivious to the dwarf's comment, Wulfric tentatively laid a hand over Morrigan's as it rested on his shoulder, the fog of grief beginning to clear from his eyes.

"Blondie's not who he used to be. He's been changing for a long time. I don't know if it was the Wardens or Justice or the Templars ... or all three at once, but it was more than he could take and stay sane." Varric moved slowly through the grass, pausing after each step. His head lifted and turned as though he was listening for cues to tell him where it was safe to move.

Wulfric stood up and started to reach out toward the dwarf to guide him closer, but Morrigan's hand tightened on his shoulder and she shook her head. "He does not need your assistance, nor would he thank you for it."

A dark smile passed swiftly across the dwarf's face. She had spoken softly, but it was plain he had heard every word. "Did you know," he said conversationally, moving one foot slowly forward, "that when one sense is dulled, the others sharpen? I've heard that before. Always thought it was so much bullshit. But apparently there's something in it after all. The others are about a mile away," he added, nodding his head in the appropriate direction.

"I am familiar with the phenomenon—the Chasind used to practice ways to sharpen their senses—but I would not have expected you to feel its effects so soon," Morrigan said.

"You forget my chosen role. I am an observer; I have a lot of ways to pick up information." A flash of pain and grief crossed Varric's scarred features, and he turned away, saying nothing more.

Oghren groaned and sat up, his armor creaking. "Damn mages." He spat something into the grass. "He took the kidlet from me, hit me with his stone thing, and I think he ran off. Can't be sure—hard to see through stone." He looked up, and Morrigan could see flakes of shale still stuck in his red beard. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Wulfric assured their old friend. "None of us saw this coming." He looked at Varric, frowning. "Did we?"

"No. I knew Blondie was slipping, but I didn't see—" He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Gonna have to work on my vocabulary."