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Tainted Dreams	By : wyldehart Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3479 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters and Dragon Age are property of Bioware/EA. I made no money, sadly.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
(Very violent! You have been warned.)

Alistair awoke with a start and a sudden intake of breath. He couldn't explain it but there was a creepy sense of something being terrifyingly wrong. He should not have been asleep for one and he had the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded for another. It felt like he was surrounded by Darkspawn. A lot of them. He started patting the furs down, searching for his wife but Elissa had disappeared. Her armor and weapons were still in a corner of the small cave they shared so if she was outside, in the frigid cold, she wore only the heavy wool padded pants and long-sleeve shirt she wore under her armor and slept in at night. He began to panic.

He rose from the nest of thick furs and crossed the few steps it took him to reach Ambrose's sleeping form. He jerked the other Warden by the shoulder and said his name several times. The Orlesian suddenly awoke, wide-eyed, and blurted, "Darkspawn!" Alistair nodded. "Yes. A lot of them and Elissa could be in danger. She's out there alone and unarmed. We have to find her."

Ambrose sat up best he could in the small cave and reached for his weapons and armor. Alistair pulled it out of his hands before he could buckle it on. "No time to gear up. I'll allow boots and a coat and your weapons. That's it. We find Elissa, bring her back here and hopefully not have to kill anything." Ambrose's protests were cut off as Alistair went outside into the early morning gloom.

It was impressively cold. Though Alistair's cloak was warm, it did little to ward off the chill that permeated him to his core. He shivered. It didn't take long to find Elissa's footprints in the snow and he was dismayed to see that she was barefoot. No boots? Where was she going? He followed the trail, only half aware of Ambrose's presence behind him. Periodically, he would call out to his wife and Ambrose called her name along with his current pet nick-name for her: 'Mon c'air'. Alistair frowned, not liking the term at all. He'd learned some Orlesian in preparation for the trip and what Ambrose was calling her, though sweet, was highly inappropriate considering the circumstances. Elissa didn't seem to mind it though she also had no clue what it meant. Alistair did know what it meant but intended for her not to discover its meaning.

After some searching, they did eventually find her but what they saw froze them to their souls. "Darkspawn…dozens of them…surrounding her. We're not going to…you can't be serious about taking them all on, are you? You are insane!" Ambrose whispered in the darkness beside Ferelden's king. She was indeed surrounded by them and she stood as if in a trance. They didn't seem inclined to hurt her but they had her boxed in so that she could not escape if she tried.

Alistair nodded and hissed, "We go in, kill as many of those monsters as we can and get Elissa to wake up. Free her mind, hand her a sword and you will see why she is a Commander of the Grey in our land. I suggest we flank them. I'll attempt to get Elissa's attention, knock her down if-if I have to. She looks like she's…like she's enthralled. Maker, this is bad. Let's go."

Mother! Mother come! I need to see you, mother!

My son… No… I cannot come to you. This could be a trick of the mind, a nightmare. I will not risk it. I cannot risk it. Forgive me, my son. I love you.

Mother, you have to come. Sooner or later, you will come. See, Mother? Your feet are moving. You come because you have to, because you will, because you want to see me. Is this not true?

I am lying beside your father, his arms around me and he is awake, on watch. Believe me, if my feet are moving, they move through air and not through snow. I cannot come, my son. Soon, I shall wake up and when I do, I will see my belly and you will still be safely growing within. You see? I know this is merely a dream. It's like all the others, child.

No, Mother. Father's arms are not around you. He is asleep, Mother and he cannot protect you from the worst your mind can do. You are with me now, your son! I am your precious son! Do you not wish to be near me? To be with me?

Yes but there is time yet. You are precious to me but I know that you are not yet born. Therefore, this is a trick and now I know for certain that I cannot be merely dreaming you. Someone has done something to my mind to ensnare me in these visions. Whoever is doing this, I demand you set me free! I demand it!

Look there, Mother. Do you see? These are my followers! I will someday be a mighty king. I will be greater than Father, greater than even King Maric. I will rally my followers and they will love me. They will do anything I desire. I will have utter control and anything I want I shall have. Is this not something you wish for your son, my Mother?

No! These soulless creatures follow you? Look at them, child. They have no minds, no spirit. It is mind and spirit that makes a follower more than a puppet. Otherwise they are no better than the Darkspawn that follow an Archdemon. There is no purpose to what they do. Loyalty, love, honor, faith… These things in a people's hearts and given to their king, this is what sets a great king from a good king and your father, despite his troubles with the Bannorn, has these things. Your followers are shells. And you are no king. At least, not the creature speaking in my son's name. I will see to it that only my real son, if a son he is, is king! Now that I see through you, monster, set me free! SET ME FREE! FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…!

Elissa was screaming, though still entranced. Alistair ran his sword through a Darkspawn as it launched itself at him. The creatures had begun to blur together, individual features becoming a blood-stained tapestry of bodies swirling and leaping with deadly choreography. His shield struck one in the face, splattering grey matter about as its head was crushed and something's entrails clung stubbornly to the haft of his sword. He was determinedly making his way to his wife, who was standing still in spite of the monsters whirling about her. He saw a Genlock Emissary standing apart from the rest of the group and he seemed to be in some kind of trance himself. It looked like it was maintaining some kind of spell. The way you end a spell is to kill the mage. Alistair narrowed his eyes and leveled the crossbow at him then launched a bolt. It struck true, right in the face above the bridge of its flat nose. The death was bloody and the spell it was casting ended, though Alistair wondered what it was casting.

Oddly, at the moment of the creature's death, Elissa moved, she even seemed to stagger forward a bit though she still didn't wake up. The Darkspawn surrounding her, however, finally seemed to see her. He saw them go from worshipful to murderous and he screamed her name. Somehow, though he would not be able to recall how he did it if later asked, he launched himself into the air and swung his sword in a sweeping arc of deadly White Steel. His feet slammed into their faces and his shield ran them into the ground. Slowly, methodically, he ploughed his way through them to his wife's side. Elissa was still asleep and she was about to get herself killed. There was only one way he could think of to awaken her.

He slammed his body into hers, rolling himself so that his back hit the ground with his arms around her, protecting her body from the fall. They ended up in a bloody snow-drift near the spot she'd been standing. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open at him, seeming not to recognize him at first. "A-Alistair? What happened? Why am I so cold? Where am I?"

He hauled her to her feet and pressed a sword into her hands. "No time to talk. We have work to do." Her eyes widened at the carnage surrounding them and the many more that were still alive. There were so many Darkspawn! Where had they all come from and why were they here? Did they have something to do with her nightmare? She raised the sword and scavenged a shield from a hand missing its body. The ground was slick with hot blood and it warmed her bare feet as she stepped through it.

Once in a kind of focused state, Elissa saw her enemies clearly. One by one, as they attempted to flank her, she swept her sword around, slicing and stabbing each creature that came into view. For Ambrose, it was like watching a terrifying ballet act. Each movement, each strike was timed and deadly, leaving few wounded and most writhing in their death throes. She left death in her wake as she slashed her way through the hearts of the fiercest Darkspawn. In the few moments she'd been alert, Elissa Theirin had already doubled the number of his own kills. So lost was he in watching her, that he did not see the huge Ogre standing above him. She screamed at him and he tried to get away but found himself picked up by the giant hand that threatened to crush him.

Elissa, standing only in her padded undershirt and pants, rushed the Ogre, leapt into the air and ran her sword through its gut. She held on with both hands, allowing her weight to draw the sword in a deep slice down in an arc across his stomach. Blood sprayed, soaking her and sticky, blue entrails spilled out onto the ground. Ambrose, however, was still unable to get free. Repeatedly, he stabbed the hand gripping him with his sword. Amazingly, the Ogre was still alive! Even trailing half of its innards on the ground, it continued to crush him, laughing at his inability to free himself. He was growing dizzy. "Help… me!" he cried.

Elissa launched herself again and this time, she clung to the open, gaping wound and thrust her sword up, stabbing it into the creature's chest from inside its own body cavity. Her sword rammed through the heart and that finally killed it. She leapt away just in time as it fell heavily to the ground, its face down in its own viscera. She walked up to Ambrose and held out her hand, panting. He stared up at her in awe. "You… I never knew how amazing you are!" he murmured.

She shrugged. "Compliment me later. There are stragglers to kill. Where is Alistair?" She looked around for her husband but he was nowhere to be seen. As she searched the battlefield, there were, in fact, only a few dying Darkspwan left. The rest had either fled or were dead. It was lighter now but heavy clouds and falling snow meant there would be a perpetual gloom for the remainder of the morning. She shivered and staggered forward, suddenly feeling weak and overcome with exhaustion.

Ambrose caught her in his arms. "No. You have endured enough. I shall find your king while you clean yourself up." She started to protest but Ambrose kept a tight hold of her, his eyes on hers. "Mon ce'air… You saved my life. I owe you. I will find Alistair for you. Go back to the cave, clean yourself with melted snow and rest." She nodded slowly and allowed him to help her return to the cave.

Once inside, she removed the padded shirt and pants and then scrubbed the blood away with snow melted in the heat of the cave. Her hair would have to wait for the next pond or lake to wash but at least the blood and gore would be off her body. She wrapped her naked form in the warmth of a thick furred blanket and waited for Ambrose to return. It was some time later but he did eventually come back. She heard him calling out her name.

Elissa wrapped herself tightly in a blanket and stepped outside into the blustery, snowy air. It was light now. Ambrose came, soaking wet and carrying Alistair. Neither man had donned his armor, thus leaving both dressed in similar fashion to her. Their clothes were soaked through and she could tell her husband's skin was pale, almost blue in fact. He wasn't moving at all. She rushed forward, weeping as Ambrose carried him to the small cave. "What happened? Is he alive?" she screamed.

Ambrose ducked down and carefully, gently, pushed Alistair into the cave. He tried not to look at her as she dropped the blanket she was wearing to remove Alistair's clothing. She was completely nude and a sight for his sad eyes. He felt something twist inside of him. "He is…alive. Barely. I had to breathe for him, though. He is suffering from cold. He must have followed another Ogre and got tossed onto a frozen lake during the fight. It was not far from here. The ice had cracked and he was in the water, clinging to an ice-patch when I found him. I tried to reach him without going swimming but he went under so I had to go in. I would never have found him if I hadn't spotted the ogre… What are you planning?" She sat up, revealing her body to him in its fullest, most feminine glory. The cold air had left her breasts hard and nipples firm. He stared.

"Take off your clothes. All of them. You're soaked! Then get into the furs with me and Alistair. Since he needs to warm up fastest, he gets the middle I am sorry to say. He'll hate me for it later but…"

"You are insane! I refuse to lie naked with a man. I would lie naked with you but that is because I am a man and you are a beautiful woman but I refuse to lie with a naked man." He shivered, his arms crossed as he looked pointedly into Elissa's teal eyes.

She dropped her hands upon her swollen belly and cocked her head to one side, her eyes on him. "You want to help me save my husband? Good! But you will do it my way. He needs body heat and so do you. Your lips are blue, Ambrose. You'll die of hypothermia if we don't do this quickly."

"But why naked? Surely there is a change of clothes in the packs?"

She sighed and turned around, gifting Ambrose with a fine view of her bottom. She was stretching Alistair out on his side and layered the furs for maximum warmth, including those Ambrose had been using. "Body heat. Tactile contact. Skin to skin. It is the best way. Now, as a Commander of the Grey, I am pulling rank: STRIP."

Ambrose grumbled and removed his clothes piece by piece. "I shall seek revenge, Mon ce'air… I swear it! This is humiliating. One woman, two men and it is the men who must touch… At least he is attractive. Were I of the type to desire men, I would find him desirable but I am not so instead I am…"

She glared at him and started to say something but was caught short. He was covered in scars. They looked like lash-marks! His back, chest and arms were riddled with a network of white lines that contrasted with his warm-hued skin. "Ambrose…! How did you get those scars?" she asked.

He sighed. "A tale to tell, this is what you wish? Perhaps I am disinclined to tell it?" He slipped carefully along Alistair's back tried to figure out what to do with his arms. He wrapped them around Alistair's chest and felt Elissa's nipples against his hand. He flinched, jerking back. "Dah! Sorry."

She smiled and reached for one of his hands, laying it along her husband's ribcage. "Don't worry about it. This is all just a strange, awkward situation. If something touches something during the course of our sleep, I won't hold it against you. You will be rewarded for helping me save Alistair's life. Assuming he lives… Oh, Ambrose, what if he dies? What will I do?" she sobbed into Alistair's neck. Ambrose, unsure what to say or do, reached around Ferelden's king and squeezed him between he and Elissa as he did his best to hold her. He marveled at the softness of her smooth skin.

He touched his head to hers and held her tightly as best he could with the comatose king in between them. "He will live, Mon ce'air… I swear it. And after all of this, should he die, I will go to the fade and drag him back myself if it makes you happy. I mean it. I swear…it"

When she didn't reply, Ambrose peered over Alistair's prone form and saw that Elissa had fallen into an exhausted slumber. Had she heard what he said? He wondered if she knew how much he was coming to care for her. How determined he was to see her taken care of and happy. How much he now regretted the task at hand, the thing he had to do…

To be continued
- 12
- 13
- 14
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Tainted Dreams