When Fate Summons (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Magic Man

Alistair watched as the Legionnaires engaged the dragon that was Flemeth in battle, everything in his being demanding that he get down there somehow and take part in protecting the people he cared about. Peering over the edge, he calculated the odds that he could leap down without breaking every bone in his body. They weren't good. He clenched his fists, pounding them into the rocky surface of the cliff.

From behind him, he heard a sharp screech, and he turned, seeing the giant hawk glaring at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "If she sees you ..."

The hawk shook its head impatiently, and gestured with a wing toward the battlefield.

"Are you sure that's safe?" The hawk stamped its foot. "Fine, but if she takes you over, don't think I won't enjoy chopping off your head." He let the hawk lift him into the air, only then thinking that threatening your means of transport might not be the wisest idea.

The paralysis spell holding Leliana had worn off, and she was adding her rain of arrows to the Legion's assault. Oghren, mostly recovered from his near-death experience, was back in the fray as well, his crazed laughter echoing across the field. It was a familiar sound to Alistair, as much a part of the noise of battle as the thwack of arrows and the clash of steel. The various fronts had dragon-Flemeth's attention fully occupied, so she didn't notice when the Morrigan-hawk dropped Alistair in a far corner of the field and flew away.

__________

Cybele lay on the ground, dazed, for a moment after the spell had broken. Then she looked around at the line of dwarves getting ready to battle Granny, and, terror-stricken, scrambled out of their way. She heard her name called in a familiar voice. Anawyn was struggling with a tall blond man in mage robes. The dark-haired girl stood, focusing her energy. She raised her hands to the sky, pulling down its power, and a lightning bolt shot from clouds, hitting the blond mage. He dropped Anawyn and staggered back, his robes smoking where the lightning had hit.

Anawyn got up, bending tenderly over the mage. "Anders, are you all right?"

"Electrified," he said dryly. "Er, that's the friend you needed to save?"

Cybele came up to them. "Get behind me, Anawyn, I'll protect you!"

"No, Cybele, this is Anders! He's my friend! Don't hurt him."

"Oh. Um, sorry."

"No, not to worry," Anders said breezily. He looked carefully at Cybele's face. "No question who your parents are," he said. Then, with a hasty glance at Anawyn, he corrected himself. "I mean, who your mother is."

"You know my mother?"

"Yes, I've been traveling with her looking for you girls."

"Oh." Cybele looked around the battlefield. "Is she here?"

"I don't know," Anders said kindly. "Our groups were separated. I don't know where she is now."

"Come on," Anawyn said to them both impatiently. "Let's go!" She grabbed Cybele's arm, tugging her toward the battle. "We have to help them!"

"You're right," Cybele said, her golden eyes hard. "We have to kill her while she's immobilized." But when she turned, she wasn't looking at the dragon—her focus was on Thora.

"What? Cybele, what are you doing?"

"That's her, Anawyn! That's the dwarf from my dream! She kills me!"