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The Wilds are clean.

As soon as I was able, I would return to the Wilds, away from the smoke and rubble of a ruined city that I cared nothing for and have my child. He would be raised to know nothing of this chaos and corruption. His purity would be maintained…

The conscious thought that the child would be a boy startled me, almost causing me to stop short as we ran through the winding alleys of the Alienage. To cover it I feigned a stumbled and Elissa reached out a hand to steady me at the elbow, forcing a pause, "Are you alright, Morrigan? Should you be doing this?"

Even as the city smoldered around us, she seemed genuinely concerned for me. Her eyes hastily glanced over me to discern injuries or physical fatigue.

"I am well," I snorted, "but if you must worry, worry for those lumbering louts you chose to accompany us lest they become lost."

"Pay her no heed. She merely worries for if any injury befalls you, she might lose her guarantee," I inwardly told myself, though I knew it was a deception I was trying to embrace in order to assuage my own guilt. If she did not care, she would not ask. She did not waste words on those she deemed worthless. There was no guile to Elissa.

"Be careful, Morrigan," warned Alistair pointedly, "we would not want you to break your neck or turn your ankle."

I retorted casually, "Your goodwill overwhelms me, your Majesty."

"Pashara!" growled the Qunari, "Vent your bile later!"

Alistair nodded his head meekly, visibly chastened, "You are right. The presence of so many darkspawn is making me edgy. We have yet to locate the first general Riordan warned us about. I can differentiate between the Archdemon and the other darkspawn, but the generals are not so easy to pinpoint. Duncan never told me anything about generals when he was training me, but if Riordan is to have the best chance to defeat the Archdemon with the least amount of resistance we must destroy the generals."

"We will get to the bridge and through the portcullis leading out of the Alienage to get to the Market district. Stay close and perhaps…" Elissa was interrupted by a shout. An elf ran forward, a bow slung to her back, eying us in shock.

"It's you!" she exclaimed, her red hair matching the scarlet tinged sky.

Elissa nodded, seeming surprised as well, "Shianni…isn't it? How are you still here? Is there anyone else?"

"We evacuated people to the sewers," the elven woman explained, "they let out beyond the castle walls and offered the best chance of escape for the children and the elderly. We were left behind to cover them. Someone in the Market district, some nobles I would expect, closed the Alienage portcullis. They probably figured it would make their escape easier if they did not have to fight with us to get through the gates and out of the city. It might have been the best thing they could have done for us since it limited the darkspawn movements into the Alienage and bought us the time we needed to get people out. We are the last…"

Then there was a thumping that seemed to grow louder and more urgent, we all turned toward the direction of a large, rickety set of gates at the mouth of the Alienage, located just before the bridge to the main portcullis into Denerim's market. The slats shivered and quaked as something insistently slammed into them, causing the hinges to bow out with the force of the blows.

"Run!" the elven woman shrieked as the wood splintered and gave way. An ogre stomped through, cracking the broken planks under his feet before giving a bellowing howl.

I could feel my hair stand on end at the nape of my neck and the magic seemed to automatically fill my fingertips without a thought. The power came in a wave, exploding just ahead of Elissa as she ran, her twin blades drawn and poised to strike the creature at its calves and hobble it while it was dazed by my magic. Alistair and the Qunari were only a length behind her, the larger man swinging a graceful arch with his weapon, striking between the shoulders of the beast.

We worked together in chorus and our actions had a terrible beauty. We did not need to speak, for Elissa only needed to glance or nod to us and we knew what she desired, fulfilling her every silent command. For today we were one and our movements created a harmony among us that could not exist in peace, when we were mindful of the boundaries we carefully tended. War is a simultaneously vicious and tender equalizer.

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Much of the city was a blur of struggling, roars of plaintive beasts before they were cut down, the hot rushing wind behind exploding magic and flames, the tingling sensation of power as it released, seemingly from my very pores. It was all sound and prickling nerves for me until I found myself gasping and near to keeling over from the endless sapping of my reserves. I was near senseless with exhaustion as we stood before the large doors of Fort Drakon, a swath of dead beasts stretching back along our route through the city.

A hand steadied me, lowering me to the ground. It took me a moment to be sensible of who it was.

"Easy," Alistair cautioned with a gentle voice. He began rifling through a small pouch of provisions, looking for an injury kit and bandages that Wynne had given him, "That shriek sliced right through your barrier."

I gaped at him, confused, muddled, trying to make sense of the words.

Seeing me agog, he pointed to a wound on my shoulder I had been unaware of and offered, "You are bleeding, or didn't you notice?"

He did not wait for a reply, but proceeded to tend the injury, carefully cleansing and treating it. I could do nothing but sit and stare at him. The wound itself began to throb and sting, but the true heat was in my cheeks. An unrecognizable emotion made my chest tight. He had just finished his ministrations when I struck him on the shoulder with an open palm. Losing balance, he fell onto his backside from his crouch beside me. He looked startled as I edged away from him and struggled back to my feet.

"Did I request aid?" I demanded huffily, "Do you not think me capable of tending myself? Must you interfere where you are unwanted?"

He stared at me a long moment before shaking his head and wordlessly gathering his healing supplies, tucking them back into the pouch. Sten came forward from where he had been resting, observing the entire exchange, and silently offered Alistair a hand up. Elissa was oblivious to us all, studying the apex of the tower.

"There is a larger gathering of darkspawn congregating just beyond us in the courtyard," Alistair informed her, jerking his head in the direction of the doors, "I can feel them waiting, milling about. It will be difficult to fight through them to get into the Tower."

"There are no other entrances," Sten intoned.

"Then we have no other choice. We must push through all resistance in the courtyard. The Archdemon crashed down there after Riordan winged him. He had been so close…" Elissa muttered, remembering the sight of the elder Grey Warden as he fell to the city flagstones like a doomed comet.

"It is better for us that we have a target that can no longer fly," Sten offered dispassionately.

"I know," she acquiesced, solemnly unsheathing her blades in preparation for the next assault and Alistair nodded grimly, communicating he was ready for what lay ahead.

We entered the courtyard and fought through. I stood behind the three warriors, casting, calling the magic to me. As the blood flowed over the ground and I felt my power flag again, the old temptation tugged at me. How easy it would be to use what pooled so close at hand. Never had I been so plagued with exhaustion. Flemeth had groomed me for this, but nothing had prepared me for these desperate lengths. She had always called power easily, even for her grand transformations, but never resorted to using blood to fuel the magic.

"I will not share," she had once cackled when I had inquired about using blood magic, "and especially not with some clumsy, short sighted spirit of the Fade. Their petty envies have blinded them to the truth I so clearly see."

I cared not for her truths or her riddles. I had shunned blood magic for I had learned to disdain demons, much like Flemeth, but only because they reminded me of her in their desire to use me. I knew not what Flemeth was, but I knew what Flemeth was not.

She was not my mother.

The possibility of a child rested in my womb. It was a whispered promise in my bones. My son…

I had never considered what I wanted, even when Flemeth was gone and her insistent threat removed; though she was now like a dull ache: present but bearable. I had still gone forward with the ritual as she had schooled me. It never occurred me whether I wanted this child.

Now consideration of possibility and desire were past. I would be a mother and the responsibility hung around my neck like a mountainous pendant. This child would be mine to use as I would, if I would.

Looking at the father of my unborn child as he hacked darkspawn into jagged bits, I was momentarily awed by him. Though at times naïve, he was driven by his own sense of purpose. There was dormant magic in his blood that I could sense, though distantly, and he was oblivious of it. Oh, it was an idle fancy to inform him of this at times, to see the former Templar squirm with what his own body portended. It was an old magic, of an old people. My son would wield his father's sleeping power as well as my own, but I dared not speak this.

Even without the old god's soul, our child would be powerful. He would never know his father and again that nameless, foreign emotion filled me again. The child would only have me and I would only have him.

I knew not who I was, but I knew who I was not.

I was not Flemeth.

I would not use him. I would protect him from her, from any who would do him harm, even in the face of death. He would be my son and I would be his mother.

"Pay attention!" shouted the Qunari as a hurlock barreled down on me as I vainly called to magic that would not heed me in the hopes of saving myself, but before the monster could strike, the beast was cut down by Alistair who appeared at my side, fighting a sudden swarm of creatures while Elissa and Sten tried to clear a way through to the ingress into the Tower.

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It continued much this way through the various floors, the Qunari and Elissa making a path through our assailants while Alistair protected me so I could continue casting. The temptation of blood could not stir me after that; it had not the means or the opportunity.

We climbed ever higher to the destined confrontation, despite rogue genlocks and vicious hurlocks. It felt like we could not be challenged beyond minor nuisances, save for the Archdemon himself that loomed on the roof above us. We entered a grand hall before the final portal, our goal beyond.

Then came the ogres...

The hall seemed to shrink with their sudden presence as they entered from the wings. Three of them barred our path, roaring and charging. The Qunari flew at one while Elissa snuck around another one and jumped onto its back while it howled with confusion. The third remained and turned toward Alistair. Again I was low on my reserves, having spent so much to clear the previous floors. My confidence was waning as my strength flagged.

"For the Wardens!" I heard Alistair charge before the brute picked him up in its meaty mitt, beginning to violently shake him until Alistair's helmet flew from his head.

I reached deep and called forth a wave of magic with a scream as the power ripped the air out of my lungs while leaving my body. The creature was encased in ice a moment before it shattered from the crushing weight of its own body. Alistair clattered to the floor, motionless.

I ran to him while Sten and Elissa struggled with their own opponents. I hastily felt for his breath against my cheek, leaning over him and made muttering pleas for him to rouse and open his eyes.

He seemed cold to the touch for a moment, but then his eyes fluttered open and he questioned groggily, "Did we win?"

"No thanks to you," I tersely responded as the floor itself quaked with the impact of bloody ogre corpses. I could feel the relief hiss through my teeth as I berated him, "Elissa needs must teach you to dodge, since you are too sluggish to execute such a maneuver. Had I not been able…" the words sputtered to nothing like a guttering flame.

For the first time I could recall, he looked me in the eye before breathing, "Thank you, Morrigan."

"You owe me no thanks," I hastily quipped, while attempting to help him up, awkwardly bracing myself against his heavy armor.

"We owe nothing and own nothing save ourselves," he mumbled absently as he struggled to get his bearings, "Where is my helmet?"

I sighed and retrieved it from the corner it rolled to, "What few wits you have may have bruised themselves when that ogre rattled you."

"Will he be alright?" questioned Elissa as she joined us.

"I am no healer, do not ask me," I snipped, harsher than I intended.

Sten steadied Alistair, "We cannot go back and he will be vulnerable if we leave him here in this state."

"I am fine," Alistair insisted, regaining some of his coherence, "just get me to the door."

Suddenly the windows of the hall rattled with an inhuman roar, eclipsing any ogre's howl. We looked in the direction of the egress to the final stairs. Our time was at an end and destiny waited in the impatient maw of a tainted, fallen god a short sprint away.

Description
The Wilds are clean.

As soon as I was able, I would return to the Wilds, away from the smoke and rubble of a ruined city that I cared nothing for and have my child. He would be raised to know nothing of this chaos and corruption. His purity would be maintained…

The conscious thought that the child would be a boy startled me, almost causing me to stop short as we ran through the winding alleys of the Alienage. To cover it I feigned a stumbled and Elissa reached out a hand to steady me at the elbow, forcing a pause, "Are you alright, Morrigan? Should you be doing this?"

Even as the city smoldered around us, she seemed genuinely concerned for me. Her eyes hastily glanced over me to discern injuries or physical fatigue.

"I am well," I snorted, "but if you must worry, worry for those lumbering louts you chose to accompany us lest they become lost."

"Pay her no heed. She merely worries for if any injury befalls you, she might lose her guarantee," I inwardly told myself, though I knew it was a deception I was trying to embrace in order to assuage my own guilt. If she did not care, she would not ask. She did not waste words on those she deemed worthless. There was no guile to Elissa.

"Be careful, Morrigan," warned Alistair pointedly, "we would not want you to break your neck or turn your ankle."

I retorted casually, "Your goodwill overwhelms me, your Majesty."

"Pashara!" growled the Qunari, "Vent your bile later!"

Alistair nodded his head meekly, visibly chastened, "You are right. The presence of so many darkspawn is making me edgy. We have yet to locate the first general Riordan warned us about. I can differentiate between the Archdemon and the other darkspawn, but the generals are not so easy to pinpoint. Duncan never told me anything about generals when he was training me, but if Riordan is to have the best chance to defeat the Archdemon with the least amount of resistance we must destroy the generals."

"We will get to the bridge and through the portcullis leading out of the Alienage to get to the Market district. Stay close and perhaps…" Elissa was interrupted by a shout. An elf ran forward, a bow slung to her back, eying us in shock.

"It's you!" she exclaimed, her red hair matching the scarlet tinged sky.

Elissa nodded, seeming surprised as well, "Shianni…isn't it? How are you still here? Is there anyone else?"

"We evacuated people to the sewers," the elven woman explained, "they let out beyond the castle walls and offered the best chance of escape for the children and the elderly. We were left behind to cover them. Someone in the Market district, some nobles I would expect, closed the Alienage portcullis. They probably figured it would make their escape easier if they did not have to fight with us to get through the gates and out of the city. It might have been the best thing they could have done for us since it limited the darkspawn movements into the Alienage and bought us the time we needed to get people out. We are the last…"

Then there was a thumping that seemed to grow louder and more urgent, we all turned toward the direction of a large, rickety set of gates at the mouth of the Alienage, located just before the bridge to the main portcullis into Denerim's market. The slats shivered and quaked as something insistently slammed into them, causing the hinges to bow out with the force of the blows.

"Run!" the elven woman shrieked as the wood splintered and gave way. An ogre stomped through, cracking the broken planks under his feet before giving a bellowing howl.

I could feel my hair stand on end at the nape of my neck and the magic seemed to automatically fill my fingertips without a thought. The power came in a wave, exploding just ahead of Elissa as she ran, her twin blades drawn and poised to strike the creature at its calves and hobble it while it was dazed by my magic. Alistair and the Qunari were only a length behind her, the larger man swinging a graceful arch with his weapon, striking between the shoulders of the beast.

We worked together in chorus and our actions had a terrible beauty. We did not need to speak, for Elissa only needed to glance or nod to us and we knew what she desired, fulfilling her every silent command. For today we were one and our movements created a harmony among us that could not exist in peace, when we were mindful of the boundaries we carefully tended. War is a simultaneously vicious and tender equalizer.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Much of the city was a blur of struggling, roars of plaintive beasts before they were cut down, the hot rushing wind behind exploding magic and flames, the tingling sensation of power as it released, seemingly from my very pores. It was all sound and prickling nerves for me until I found myself gasping and near to keeling over from the endless sapping of my reserves. I was near senseless with exhaustion as we stood before the large doors of Fort Drakon, a swath of dead beasts stretching back along our route through the city.

A hand steadied me, lowering me to the ground. It took me a moment to be sensible of who it was.

"Easy," Alistair cautioned with a gentle voice. He began rifling through a small pouch of provisions, looking for an injury kit and bandages that Wynne had given him, "That shriek sliced right through your barrier."

I gaped at him, confused, muddled, trying to make sense of the words.

Seeing me agog, he pointed to a wound on my shoulder I had been unaware of and offered, "You are bleeding, or didn't you notice?"

He did not wait for a reply, but proceeded to tend the injury, carefully cleansing and treating it. I could do nothing but sit and stare at him. The wound itself began to throb and sting, but the true heat was in my cheeks. An unrecognizable emotion made my chest tight. He had just finished his ministrations when I struck him on the shoulder with an open palm. Losing balance, he fell onto his backside from his crouch beside me. He looked startled as I edged away from him and struggled back to my feet.

"Did I request aid?" I demanded huffily, "Do you not think me capable of tending myself? Must you interfere where you are unwanted?"

He stared at me a long moment before shaking his head and wordlessly gathering his healing supplies, tucking them back into the pouch. Sten came forward from where he had been resting, observing the entire exchange, and silently offered Alistair a hand up. Elissa was oblivious to us all, studying the apex of the tower.

"There is a larger gathering of darkspawn congregating just beyond us in the courtyard," Alistair informed her, jerking his head in the direction of the doors, "I can feel them waiting, milling about. It will be difficult to fight through them to get into the Tower."

"There are no other entrances," Sten intoned.

"Then we have no other choice. We must push through all resistance in the courtyard. The Archdemon crashed down there after Riordan winged him. He had been so close…" Elissa muttered, remembering the sight of the elder Grey Warden as he fell to the city flagstones like a doomed comet.

"It is better for us that we have a target that can no longer fly," Sten offered dispassionately.

"I know," she acquiesced, solemnly unsheathing her blades in preparation for the next assault and Alistair nodded grimly, communicating he was ready for what lay ahead.

We entered the courtyard and fought through. I stood behind the three warriors, casting, calling the magic to me. As the blood flowed over the ground and I felt my power flag again, the old temptation tugged at me. How easy it would be to use what pooled so close at hand. Never had I been so plagued with exhaustion. Flemeth had groomed me for this, but nothing had prepared me for these desperate lengths. She had always called power easily, even for her grand transformations, but never resorted to using blood to fuel the magic.

"I will not share," she had once cackled when I had inquired about using blood magic, "and especially not with some clumsy, short sighted spirit of the Fade. Their petty envies have blinded them to the truth I so clearly see."

I cared not for her truths or her riddles. I had shunned blood magic for I had learned to disdain demons, much like Flemeth, but only because they reminded me of her in their desire to use me. I knew not what Flemeth was, but I knew what Flemeth was not.

She was not my mother.

The possibility of a child rested in my womb. It was a whispered promise in my bones. My son…

I had never considered what I wanted, even when Flemeth was gone and her insistent threat removed; though she was now like a dull ache: present but bearable. I had still gone forward with the ritual as she had schooled me. It never occurred me whether I wanted this child.

Now consideration of possibility and desire were past. I would be a mother and the responsibility hung around my neck like a mountainous pendant. This child would be mine to use as I would, if I would.

Looking at the father of my unborn child as he hacked darkspawn into jagged bits, I was momentarily awed by him. Though at times naïve, he was driven by his own sense of purpose. There was dormant magic in his blood that I could sense, though distantly, and he was oblivious of it. Oh, it was an idle fancy to inform him of this at times, to see the former Templar squirm with what his own body portended. It was an old magic, of an old people. My son would wield his father's sleeping power as well as my own, but I dared not speak this.

Even without the old god's soul, our child would be powerful. He would never know his father and again that nameless, foreign emotion filled me again. The child would only have me and I would only have him.

I knew not who I was, but I knew who I was not.

I was not Flemeth.

I would not use him. I would protect him from her, from any who would do him harm, even in the face of death. He would be my son and I would be his mother.

"Pay attention!" shouted the Qunari as a hurlock barreled down on me as I vainly called to magic that would not heed me in the hopes of saving myself, but before the monster could strike, the beast was cut down by Alistair who appeared at my side, fighting a sudden swarm of creatures while Elissa and Sten tried to clear a way through to the ingress into the Tower.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It continued much this way through the various floors, the Qunari and Elissa making a path through our assailants while Alistair protected me so I could continue casting. The temptation of blood could not stir me after that; it had not the means or the opportunity.

We climbed ever higher to the destined confrontation, despite rogue genlocks and vicious hurlocks. It felt like we could not be challenged beyond minor nuisances, save for the Archdemon himself that loomed on the roof above us. We entered a grand hall before the final portal, our goal beyond.

Then came the ogres...

The hall seemed to shrink with their sudden presence as they entered from the wings. Three of them barred our path, roaring and charging. The Qunari flew at one while Elissa snuck around another one and jumped onto its back while it howled with confusion. The third remained and turned toward Alistair. Again I was low on my reserves, having spent so much to clear the previous floors. My confidence was waning as my strength flagged.

"For the Wardens!" I heard Alistair charge before the brute picked him up in its meaty mitt, beginning to violently shake him until Alistair's helmet flew from his head.

I reached deep and called forth a wave of magic with a scream as the power ripped the air out of my lungs while leaving my body. The creature was encased in ice a moment before it shattered from the crushing weight of its own body. Alistair clattered to the floor, motionless.

I ran to him while Sten and Elissa struggled with their own opponents. I hastily felt for his breath against my cheek, leaning over him and made muttering pleas for him to rouse and open his eyes.

He seemed cold to the touch for a moment, but then his eyes fluttered open and he questioned groggily, "Did we win?"

"No thanks to you," I tersely responded as the floor itself quaked with the impact of bloody ogre corpses. I could feel the relief hiss through my teeth as I berated him, "Elissa needs must teach you to dodge, since you are too sluggish to execute such a maneuver. Had I not been able…" the words sputtered to nothing like a guttering flame.

For the first time I could recall, he looked me in the eye before breathing, "Thank you, Morrigan."

"You owe me no thanks," I hastily quipped, while attempting to help him up, awkwardly bracing myself against his heavy armor.

"We owe nothing and own nothing save ourselves," he mumbled absently as he struggled to get his bearings, "Where is my helmet?"

I sighed and retrieved it from the corner it rolled to, "What few wits you have may have bruised themselves when that ogre rattled you."

"Will he be alright?" questioned Elissa as she joined us.

"I am no healer, do not ask me," I snipped, harsher than I intended.

Sten steadied Alistair, "We cannot go back and he will be vulnerable if we leave him here in this state."

"I am fine," Alistair insisted, regaining some of his coherence, "just get me to the door."

Suddenly the windows of the hall rattled with an inhuman roar, eclipsing any ogre's howl. We looked in the direction of the egress to the final stairs. Our time was at an end and destiny waited in the impatient maw of a tainted, fallen god a short sprint away.