When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Here with Me

The morning dawned bright and clear and warm. But Anawyn still shivered as Granny rousted the two girls from bed, not bothering to be gentle. Ugly triumph darkened her face. "Let's get a move on, girls," she barked, waiting for them at the entrance to the cave as they dressed.

Anawyn double-checked her mother's dagger inside her boot. Then, remembering suddenly, she dug into the tiny pocket of her pack and withdrew the ring that strange dwarf had given her. She tucked it into a pocket of her leathers, something warning her not to let Granny see it. She was glad of that instinct when she exited the cave. Granny seized her immediately, turning Anawyn roughly around and binding her wrists with a leather thong. She'd have noticed the ring for sure if Anawyn had put it on.

"You won't be getting in my way today, my fine girl," Granny hissed in her ear. "I have other plans for you ... but later." Granny's mouth stretched in a mirthless gloating smile, and Anawyn's shoulders hunched in misery. Defeated already, she thought. Then she remembered sitting one night at Uncle Oghren's fire, listening to her favorite story.

"There was yer mother, thrown half across the roof. Anyone else'd have crumpled up in a heap and given up, but not her. She twisted 'round, landed on her feet, and was back at that Archdemon before you could blink."

"Then what happened?"

"She'd dropped her weapons somewhere on the roof, but she grabbed a sword from somewhere. Pulled it out of the bleedin' guts of a hurlock, I shouldn't wonder—"

"Oghren!" Aunt Felsi's voice was scandalized. "What kind of thing is that to talk about in a bedtime story?"

"She's the soddin' Commander's daughter, Felsi. Whattaya want, unicorns and rainbows?"

"Wasn't Mother scared, Uncle Oghren?"

"Scared? The Hero of Ferelden? 'Course she was! Downright pissin' her knickers, she was," Uncle Oghren shouted, waving his mug in the air. "But do ya think that stopped 'er?"

"Not my mother," Anawyn said proudly.

She pictured her mother, tiny but strong and powerful enough to face down, and defeat, an Archdemon. Anawyn wasn't going to let her down, or Cybele. After all, wasn't an Archdemon a dragon? She flexed her wrists, trying to shift them within the leather thong. It was tied tightly, cutting into her skin.

"Oh, I don't think you'll be getting loose," Granny said as she watched Anawyn squirm.

"Granny, please let her go," Cybele pleaded suddenly, surprising all three of them. "I'll do ... whatever it is you need me to do. But please let my friend go."

Anawyn stared at Cybele, her mouth open. She had no intention of leaving Cybele alone, but if Granny would set her free, maybe she could find her parents and they could work together ... The momentary hope was dashed when she looked at Granny's face.

"Let her loose so she can go off and get help and come back to meddle in my plans?" Granny threw her head back and laughed. "I like your spirit, girl, but we'll keep Anawyn right here where I can keep an eye on her." She grasped both girls by the arms, dragging them off down the path.

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Leliana crouched high in the branches of a tree near the mouth of the cave, hardly daring to breathe. First thing she had to do was cut Anawyn's hands free, but how was she going to get close enough to do that? She carefully let herself down from the tree, slinking along in the shadows as rapidly as possible. How nice it would be to be able to change into a bird or a spider, like Morrigan, she thought. Thinking of Morrigan made Leliana take an extra-careful look around. She couldn't believe that Flemeth, and a child who looked so much like Morrigan in coloring and bearing, would be here without Morrigan being somewhere close by. But would Morrigan be assisting Flemeth, or would she be trying to protect the child? Leliana didn't feel comfortable trusting to either possibility.

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Granny and the girls returned to the ruins, and the dimly traced circle where the remains of the great green dragon had already been partially consumed by scavengers. Shoving Anawyn roughly to the ground, Granny dragged Cybele with her as she took a good look around the perimeters of the circle. Looking back at Anawyn, Granny sneered at the girl. "Wouldn't want anyone lurking around and getting in the way, now, would we? You, my fine young thing, have been trouble enough."

Anawyn's eyes met Cybele's. The dark-haired girl's golden eyes were filled with misery and fear. Anawyn tried to look reassuring, but it didn't seem to work.

Granny pulled Anawyn up off the ground, dragging her over to the side of the circle. She put that blue ward over Anawyn again, looking grim as she said, "For my protection this time. I can't have you getting in the way at the wrong moment."

Anawyn squirmed and struggled with the leather binding on her wrist, kicking out at the blue glow, but to no avail. Granny watched, her mouth quirked up in a smile at Anawyn's futile efforts. Then, over Granny's shoulder, Anawyn spied movement. A shadow, stealthily moving along the rock face. Hastily, she closed her eyes, trying to force out a tear, feeling an immense rush of relief when she heard Granny snort about 'weak little children'. When Anawyn opened her eyes, Granny had turned away, unslinging the pack from her back and beginning to unload the items for her ritual. Anawyn's eyes searched for the shadow again, and they widened in shock when the shadow detached itself from the wall for a moment, and her eyes made contact with Aunt Leliana's. What was she doing here? Anawyn shook her head, trying to clear it. Was she imagining things? Then she remembered they were in Haven. Of course, Aunt Leliana was there, doing her research. Leliana sank back into shadow so quickly Anawyn thought maybe she had imagined it, but then she saw the shadow moving again, creeping in her direction. Anawyn's heart swelled briefly with hope, but then she realized that Leliana couldn't get through the blue ward to free her, and her spirits sank again.

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Down in the weed-strewn town square of what had been Haven, Alistair felt a familiar tug in his blood that for a moment he couldn't believe. Then he grasped Morrigan by the arms, shaking her as she stood, listlessly looking around her.

"I feel her, Morrigan! Them!" He sought to trap her gaze with his own, trying to get through to her. "They're up there. Don't you feel it?"

The glaze over Morrigan's eyes shifted, and she blinked, her head perking up. After a moment, poised and listening, her head swivelled, looking up the mountain to where the Temple of Andraste had once stood. "She lives," Morrigan breathed. "She lives, she lives!" Her voice strengthened with each repetition. She turned to look at Alistair, life and renewal flowing back into her gaze, but her hand reached out, finding and clinging to Xandros's.

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On the mountaintop, Anawyn gasped as she felt the welcome, familiar presence of Grey Wardens flooding her veins. She wasn't sure who, although she knew none of them was her mother, but relief surged through her nonetheless. If she could only contact them, reach them somehow, get a message to Leliana for them, anything! Her struggles with the leather tie grew more frantic as her mind raced.

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Oghren rubbed his arms. "Good to feel the little cave tick again," he grunted, his cheeks suspiciously shiny. He swiped the back of his hand across his face, then hefted his axe. "Let's go kill us an old witch! Er, sorry," he muttered, looking at Morrigan.

"No, no," she said, "killing is most certainly required. And well deserved," she said grimly, her face darkening. "But how? I cannot come near Flemeth, and I do not recommend charging forth, as you are wont to do, you drunken fool."

"Actually ..." Alistair said, staring up in the direction his blood was pulling him toward, "I think Oghren charging forward is exactly what is called for." And he began to explain his idea as they all drew around him.