The Last Warden

Chapter Nineteen

"I can fight."

"No, you can stay put."

Sten glowered down at him as Alistair shook his head. There wasn't time for this, not now. Raising two fingers, he gave the big man a gentle but insistent poke in the arm.

He winced.

"See? And if you do turn into one of those things I'd really not rather be alone in the woods with you."

There was almost a smile behind his snort, the sigh sounding somehow relieved as he sank down upon the cot. But Sten caught his wrist as he turned away, fixed him with a low and level stare. There was warning there, and something almost like pity.

"Right. Thanks."

"I too shall stay." Wynne moved to the Qunari's side, easing him back amongst the blankets. "I may not be able to offer healing, but perhaps there is something I can do to ease their pain." She tsked, eyes roaming round the campsite, the crowded beds of the injured and dying. "Never have I seen its like, but I hope to know more before you return."

That left only Morrigan and the golem. Shale stood some way from the others, head tilted to watch the trees above. Strangely, Morrigan was speaking with one of the young elves. Alistair hadn't thought much of it when he had seen the boy approach, but now he saw his eyes go wide, mouth working in wordless horror.

"Morrigan! What are you—?"

"—Then perhaps this Gheyna has the right of it. 'Tis quite apparent that unless you find a way to slay the beast with tears, you will have little enough to offer her."

With that the boy turned, fleeing deeper into the camp.

She watched him go with a sneer. "I think I may vomit."

"Why would you do that?"

"He asked."

Alistair grabbed her arm, dragging her bodily past the edge of the camp. "We're going."

"Are we? And what was it you said about personal delays?"

His hand twisted round her wrist, pulling her close as he glowered down at her. "You agreed to help me."

"I agreed to nothing." Her head tilted, smiling sweetly as she pressed against his chest. "And as for my assistance... it was offered to the Grey Warden, to aid him against the Blight. Not to go chasing after some Orlesian w—"

The slap rang out before he could stop himself. Gaping in horror, Alistair cradled his hand. But Morrigan only hissed, chuckling as she turned her eyes back to his. Still she stood close, fingers twisting against his collar as she pulled his mouth to hers.

So soft her lips, surprisingly so but... Alistair staggered backward, choking on a cough. "Andraste's flaming— What are you doing?"

There was a sway behind her steps as she moved toward him, unmindful of his warding hands. "'Tis the first backbone I have seen you show."

"You-you're insane! Maker's..."

Morrigan paused, that smile half-sneering. "If we assist these elves, will they honor the treaty?"

"Will wh—?" He pinched shut his eyes, the sudden change in direction setting his head to spinning. "...Yes. The Keeper said that—"

"Good." She nodded. "Let us at least be quick about it."

Alistair gaped at her a moment longer, keeping a wary eye over his shoulder as they moved deeper beneath the trees. "Just... just stay away. I mean it."

Following behind, Shale snorted. "It seeks to have the Warden dancing on Its strings, though I cannot see why. It is remarkably weak-willed and indecisive. Hardly a formidable ally."

"Be silent, golem."

The path narrowed immediately beyond the camp, winding up upon itself as it climbed beside a falling stream. There was light breaking through the canopy, the air cool and quiet and not entirely unpleasant. He found himself thinking of the strange elf that had led them here, almost wishing that the Dalish had provided some sort of guide. "Deep in the heart of the forest" didn't exactly point the way. It was some time before he realized just how still the trees were, as if the entire wood were holding its breath.

"Do you hear that? Nothing. No animals, no birds."

Beside him, Shale shifted. "It speaks as though this were a bad thing."

Morrigan arched a brow as she looked up at the golem. "I could become a bird if that would comfort you. Fly at your side, hovering always just out of reach—"

"—Shut up. Both of you. It's just... not right."

"The Swamp Witch has a great deal in common with my former master."

"Oh. 'Swamp Witch,' is it? And what, I wonder, do you—?"

It shook beneath them, the canopy creaking above as one of the trees bent low. Roots ripped free of earth, crashing into the path like living legs as its branches whipped toward them.

Alistair ducked, falling to his knees. "Whoa! What in the—?"

Shale was already charging toward the thing, undeterred by the stinging branches. One stony fist connected with its trunk, the tree letting out a near-human howl. Morrigan, too, had regained her feet, glaring up at the thing as she swung her staff round. Alistair could not hear the words, but he did hear her grunt with effort as flame burst amongst its leaves.

The scream was one of old decay, the tree sinking to knees that were not knees, twigs and branches and bark smoldering before winking out.

Morrigan smirked as he pushed himself to his feet. "Is that normal for you, then? Just another day in theWilds?"

She sniffed. "'Tis no magic I have seen before."

Alistair's eyes held to the trees, narrowing suspiciously. "Great. Werewolves and bears and Maker knows what else and now we have to worry about the trees?"

"And the birds. Vile, feathered fiends."

"Riiight..."

Morrigan, though, had turned away, looking to the path ahead. "If you are going to soil yourself, Alistair, perhaps you best start with them."

Three of the wolf-men hunched in the path ahead, more appearing in the trees to either side. The largest appeared to be watching them, eyes narrowing. There was something intelligent, something almost... human there. Alistair held up his hands, stepping forward slowly.

Morrigan hissed. "What are you—?"

"Leliana?" He couldn't be sure if they were male or female, the size, the hair... He moved closer, tilting his head to look up at the thing.

Morrigan grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Do not be a fool!"

But the wolf snorted, blinking down at him with an odd twist of its head. "The Dalish send a human, of all things."

"Oh, hey! You can talk."

It snarled, leaning low.

"I mean..." Alistair looked away, lowering his voice. "Well, I knew it. Knew I wasn't crazy."

"And yet you enter the Lady's forest." There was something almost like a laugh behind its growl. "You speak to Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters."

"Yeah, about that curse." He looked to the trees, to the other wolves waiting there. "We're... we're looking for a friend of ours actually. She's... like you, I think."

"You have no friends here. Return to the old Keeper and tell him you have failed. Do not test us further."

"Hey! You attacked us!"

It shook its head, looking to the others. "Some of our brothers and sisters suffer still. They have not yet seen beyond the pain... the madness. But if you would judge us by them..." Swiftrunner backed slowly up the path, the first two following with him.

In the trees the others moved, dropping from the hills to ring them round. Most lopped slowly, bent double, their jaws dripping as they snarled. One reared back, looming over him now. Oh, Maker. There was nothing human here. The stench was foul as it leaned low, growling hot against his face. Alistair pinched shut his eyes.

But the pain did not come. It howled as it jerked away, staggering forward as the blade appeared beneath its ribs. The beast slumped as it was pulled free, crashing hard against him, knocking them both backward. But the others were moving now, snarls and cries echoing pained as they leapt down upon the path. He couldn't see... couldn't... The wolf had fallen still against him, the thick and heavy limbs pinning him down. From the sound of it, they were fleeing before Shale's bellows, Morrigan's flames. But beneath it all he heard that laugh, slithering familiar above the whirling whistle of spinning steel.

Silence then. Alistair started as the boot fell against the wolfman's side, rolling it off of him with a grunting chuckle. The face was upside down as it leaned over him, crouching just above his head. Zevran grinned.

"An interesting approach, though I must say the creature seemed rather immune to your charms."

Alistair pushed himself up onto his knees, one hand clamping hard round the elf's throat. The momentum of it threw them both backward, tumbling cross the path, but Alistair was clearly the stronger. He landed atop the assassin, pinning him down.

"Tsk. If you want to bed me, Alistair, you need only ask."

"You..." His eyes swung to the wolves, a half dozen of them lying scattered. The first lay where he had left it, eyes glazed and staring. He couldn't tell... didn't know... And he should have shouldn't, he? He should be able to tell which one had been...

Zevran was blinking up at him, tilting his head curiously. One hand fell against Alistair's chest, pushing him aside as he sat. "There is a problem?"

Alistair sank back on his heels, looking away. "If you... if you've killed her I swear..."

"Who?"

His eyes snapped up. "Leliana. She-she's... like them now. It's a curse. But if we can... kill the head wolf-thing, it might be enough to cure her."

"Leliana?" Zevran's brow rose, the merest smile playing behind his lips. "Ahh."

"What?"

"I have seen these wolves before... and not just this rabid sort. Two of them in the woods nearby, one grey and one a beautiful shade of red – or so I thought at the time. They did not attack, merely watched me. The white seemed to be injured, almost... weeping, if wolves can do such a thing. I saw its companion lay a hand on its arm." He nodded. "Curious, is it not?"

Alistair blinked. "You...?"

But Zevran had turned his attention to Morrigan now, laying a hand on Alistair's shoulder as he pushed to his feet. Moving toward her his grin spread wide.

"Do not touch me, elf."

He dropped into a sweeping bow. "Ahh, but I have not forgotten the other part of our... arrangement."

"Great. And what's that?" Supporting himself against a tree, Alistair grunted.

"Why, to protect you, of course. You do not think our dear Morrigan would send you against her wicked mother without taking every precaution?"

Alistair almost had to laugh for the expression on her face, hands curling round the staff as if she might bludgeon him with it. He shook his head. "Yeah. Great job with that, by the way. What with the getting knocked out."

Zevran chuckled. "Though I will admit that the oath has been somewhat more difficult to fulfill since you cast me out. I think that I will stay."

"Fine. Whatever. I really don't care anymore."

"And you say you are looking for the leader of the beasts, yes? I think I know where it is you need to go." He turned for the path without waiting, leaving Morrigan to glower at his back.

As Shale left them, she turned that glare to Alistair instead. "'Tis not my place to say, but I think that you are making a grave—"

"—That good, huh?"

"What?"

"You must have done something to inspire such loyalty." He quirked a brow. "This deal he speaks of... I've got to admit, I'm a bit curious. Morbidly so."

"Perhaps I could show you. You may even enjoy it."

Shaking his head, Alistair smirked and stepped round. "Yeeah... I think I'd rather die."

This, at last, seemed to silence her.

It held as they walked on, the woods again becoming silent, the walk almost pleasant. Zevran, strangely enough, seemed to know where he was going, leading them down a sloping path to a riverside clearing, empty save for a single tree. Alistair recognized the sound this time, the slither of leaves, the groan of old branches. He drew his sword as the thing bent low, bracing behind his shield.

"Hah! Not this time, tree!"

Zevran tsked. Shaking his head, he placed a hand over Alistair's, lowering the blade.

"The strange elf has returned, I see.
Hast thou any news for me?"

"Wait, you know the tree?"

"I asked a boon when first he passed.
To see what was stolen returned at last."

Alistair gaped. "Riiight... this is very creepy."

Beside him, Morrigan sniffed. "For once we agree. I cannot imagine when sort of spirit is involved here."

Zevran ignored them both, producing something from his pockets with a flourish as he bowed. "As promised. And no easy task, that."

The leaves sighed as the tree bent low, its smallest branches taking what appeared to be an acorn from the elf's outstretched hand.

"My joy soars to new heights indeed!
I am reunited with my seed!"

"An acorn? And you talk to trees now?" Alistair quirked a brow. "Are you sure you're not Dalish?"

"My mother was Dalish, since you ask. But I assure you, I am not." Looking up at the tree his eyes narrowed. "And our bargain?"

Again it bent low, branches shifting to pull free one of the smaller twigs.

"Bear you now this promised gift.
Let its magic pass you through the rift."

"Wait, what?"

Zevran turned to them with a bemused smirk, dropping the branch into Alistair's hand. "The center of the forest is guarded by a barrier. This tree agreed to grant me access in exchange to the recovery of its little one there."

"Its acorn."

"Yes."

"And why were you trying to get to the center of the forest?"

His grin spread wide. "Why, for the treasure, of course! Marvelous ruins and Tervinter, so they say. Who knows what we might find?"

"What about the wolves? Leliana?"

He laughed. "Why not? There is always time for a daring rescue, yes?"

Moving to the nearby stream Alistair shook his head, crouching to blink down at his reflection. The grass rose here in a small hillock, sunlit and overlooking the waters. It was peaceful... so peaceful. He found himself yawning.

"A camp? And abandoned by the look of it." Morrigan stepped round, crouching beside the waiting bedrolls.

"Perhaps we should stop, no? Just for a moment?"

They had a point, really. The wolves would still be there in the morning. Alistair looked to Shale. "I don't suppose you have an opinion? Seeing as how you don't sleep and all?"

The golem sighed. "I may be a superior construct, but carrying Its inventory is most tedious. Perhaps I will set it down a while."

"Right then. Good." Moving to the still-smoldering fire, Alistair let himself sink heavy against the waiting blankets. So tired... and yet so... His eyes fell shut.

* * *

The trees were thinner here, the leaves above shifting to dapple the clearing with brilliant light. It was warm, calm, perfect. He was no longer afraid

They moved slow, the small party of elves bearing a litter between them. Such sadness, but they did not seem to see him, moving almost as in a daze. One of the young women scowled, chin held proud and strong, the quiver there almost imperceptible as they lay their burden in the center of the clearing.

"Here. This is the spot." The voice was strained, rasping, the man that they had borne falling to coughing. As the others moved aside, Alistair saw him, recognized him.

Head lolling, the elf opened his eyes, smile twisting pained to see him there. It was the boy from the Fade, the man who had led him to the Dalish. And Dalish they were, the words chanted now beyond Alistair's understanding. A blessing perhaps, a final goodbye, but still the elf's gaze held to his, uncaring of the pain as his limbs twitched.

One by one the others moved away, disappearing into the trees, leaving him behind. Only the girl remained.

"Merrill."

She shuddered visibly, turning her eyes away.

"Merrill. Your blade."

"My—?"

He attempted to prop an elbow beneath him, falling back against the litter with a hiss of pain. "Please."

She looked round, crouching quick beside him as she drew the dagger from her belt. Those hands shook, her lips twisting as his grip tightened over hers.

"Now go."

"But—"

Again it racked him, back arching as he screamed. The girl tripped over her robes in her haste to back away, the tears flowing freely as she bolted into the trees.

After a long moment, the spasms passed, the elf's chest heaving as he again looked to Alistair. With a shaking smile, he pressed fingers to his heart. But before Alistair could move, he lifted high the blade, plunging it deep between his ribs.

"No!"

Blood trickled from the edges of his lips as Alistair knelt beside him, but the elf was smiling still. "You should wake up now."

Opening his eyes, Alistair heard the screams.