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Vhenan'ara	By : Arcanis_Born Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 6576 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from this.

Chapter List
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Dragon Age: Origins is owned by Bioware, as with all its characters, the story as it deviates from canon is mine, however, as with the personalities of characters as they deviate from those in the game.
Thank you all so much for your continued readership! It means so much! And a BIG thank you to everyone who leaves a review!
Translations:
Elgar'nan: Elvhen god. Represents fatherhood and vengeance, and leads the pantheon with the goddess Mythal.

"Give me the drakestone," Morrigan snapped as she held out her hand without looking. A shift of movement, a scratching of sound and the small weight was dropped into her outstretched hand.
She was far from pleased at how events had been turning out. Not that things were too terribly far from plan, however these recent setbacks were not something she had expected. Morrigan had known that the Grey Wardens would have a harder time as they travelled the Deep Roads… yet the level of control the Archdemon extended upon Riel was not something she had anticipated. Headaches, trouble sleeping perhaps. Nothing the likes of this, however. Alistair was faring far more to how she had originally guessed. Perhaps it was the strange brew that the Grey Wardens would consume, or perhaps it was due to his unique history and brain functions compared to the elven Warden.
Or perhaps it was just the sheer amount of stupidity and brain damage that he seemed to exhibit on a regular basis.
Morrigan continued to stir the potion carefully, keeping her eyes fixed on the near bubbling concoction. Much of her spells and knowledge of herbs that Morrigan had learned over the years had come from her mother, Flemeth. The famed "Witch of the Wilds" as the common folk tended to call her.
Whether that was true or not, even Morrigan didn't truly know. What she did know was that her mother was powerful, wise, and extremely careful with her knowledge and secrets. Much of which Morrigan still did not even know all of. However she will, soon enough. Once her plans have all fall into place, the famous witch Flemeth will no longer be a figure to be feared or obeyed. Not by her. Not anymore.
Now that her mother's grimoire was finally within her possession.
It was a simple thing to ask, back when Riel had first made plans to enter the Circle Tower. Just to simply look around, and take note of anything that Morrigan might find interesting, nothing more. Perhaps in First Enchanter's quarter's, as that old fool was constantly collecting old magical things that fell into his possession. It wasn't everyday that a non member of the Circle was given complete access to all of the secrets the mages had gathered over the years, after all. However, Morrigan never would have guessed that Riel would find her mother's actual grimoire in amongst the dusty old books and scrolls that Irving had collected and pocketed away.
True, Leliana had been the one to give Morrigan the old tome and not their female Warden, Riel. It was during their first night away from Calenhad, after Riel had caused her little disturbance in the Inn. Leliana had gifted the dusty leather bound book to Morrigan on behalf of Riel. As the woman and her male elf had decided to travel separately after in the incident, Leliana wanted to make sure the young witch received the gift that Riel had found for her. Oh and what wonders the tome contained! Many secrets, as well. Old, powerful secrets that would certainly aid Morrigan against her treacherous and vile mother dearest.
It was an act that Morrigan would not soon be forgetting. Neither to Leliana or Riel. With her mother's tome in her hands, Morrigan had even found within it's old pages the very spell that she was brewing. However, unlike more common spells or potions, this particular one was beyond delicate in preparation, needing a careful eye and hand to keep it from ruining.
As old as the Darkspawn themselves, it required things not easily available even in the best of situations. Thankfully Morrigan prided herself on always traveling well prepared. As such, out of all the rare and strange things that were required for the spell to work, only the damnable drakestone proved to be so elusive.
And now here it was, the soft light of the fire reflecting off its smooth surface.
If only the fools collecting it were more careful! Morrigan mentally cursed again. What was that old Chantry saying that she had overheard years ago? When the Maker smiles, he brings abundance ten fold. When he frowns, he brings disaster a hundred over again.
Although Morrigan doubted any such Maker existed, it was hard to deny their string of bad luck that had plagued Riel and the others who travelled with them. Between Riel's increased nightmares, lack of sleep and foul mood from whatever pain she experienced, the Darkspawn seemed relentless since they first entered the Deep Roads. And not just them, either. Deepstalkers, wild brontos, and the very voidborn spiders that have now presented the group with it's current crisis.
Not just Leliana, but that sickeningly charming elf Zevran had fallen prey to the spider's venom, and now existed caught between life and death. And their time was quickly running out, as well. The dwarven leader's warning hung in Morrigan's mind, distracting her from her actions. Her eyes would dart over the bedrolls by the fire where the two of them laid. Their skin was still pale, however there was no telling how long either of them had before Kardol's prediction came to pass.
Focus! Morrigan cursed at herself as she pulled her mind back to the potion she was slowly stirring. Her priority was the Warden, Riel. Not just because she was one of two people in all of Ferelden capable of defeating the Blight. No, somehow in all the weeks and months that Morrigan had travelled with the strangely charming and fierce woman, they had worn down each other's defenses until the impossible had occurred - Morrigan had actually found herself a friend. Someone other than herself and her own interests to care about.
And right now that woman was in dire need of her help. Not just with the potion that would save her sanity in this dark place, but now also in saving her heart. Two pieces of which now lay struggling to fight off a deadly poison that no one had survived in centuries.
Damn it all… she cursed at herself again, noticing she had misplaced the bowl she would need to pour the mixture into. "By the void! Now where is-?"
"Your bowl, dear," Wynne stated, offering the younger witch the wooden bowl Morrigan was searching for.
"Yes… thank you," Morrigan tried to smile at Wynne, yet she knew that it probably didn't look right. Of all the things that her mother had prepared her for, conversing with others and sociable people skills were not one of them. Morrigan was far more apt at throwing cursed and hexes at people than showing gratitude or appreciation. And the way those who travelled with Riel seemed to constantly talk or mingle, even when enemies were about… It all perplexed Morrigan to no end.
"I have never heard of this spell before. Is it old?" Wynne asked after a small stretch of silence passed.
"Older than most," Morrigan responded in a clipped tone. The next phase of the potion was delicate, and she needed to concentrate to make sure that the whole process would not be ruined and all of their efforts wasted.
"Did your mother teach it to you?"
Morrigan barely kept her flinch back as she almost spilled a portion of the mixture over the bowl as she poured. She did not care for distractions when she normally brewed her concoctions and potions. And with this particular one being not only so delicate, but so very important for her…. friend…. her temper was barely being controlled under the older woman's constant interruptions of her concentration.
"Hey! Ol' woman! Does he look like he's getting some color to 'im?"
The dwarf's gruff voice brought both women's eyes up and towards the male elf lying a few feet away. Immediately Wynne stood and rushed over to Zevran, kneeling by his side and carefully examining him. Morrigan frowned and brought her attention back to her work. There was no way to save either Zevran or Leliana without Riel's aid. They also could not leave her unconscious while she and Sten helped Wynne and the dwarf return back to the spider's nest to gather the eggs that they needed.
Their only option of saving the two people that Riel cared most for was to wake her up. And to somehow control her anger long enough to get her to the nest and back again.
"Maker! There is not enough light!" Wynne angrily replied as her eyes shifted between both Leliana and Zevran. "I don't dare bring them closer to fire, however, in case the heat speeds up the venom in their blood."
"Use this, mage."
Wynne looked up and stared in confusion for a moment at the golem's outstretched hand, not understanding its meaning. It wasn't until she saw the small crystal it held that her face brightened up. Taking it carefully in her hands, she smiled up at Shale. "Thank you, that is a wonderful idea."
The crystals that Shale wore in its body were made of a strange compound that glowed brightly when touched by magic. It was what allowed the golem to light up small or enclosed areas while they travelled, saving on torches or light spells. They were also highly prized by the creature, often expressing great joy whenever Riel found a new one in their travels and allowed the creature to have it. Not once since the stone golem had joined the party had it ever given up one of its prized crystals, however.
The significance was not lost on Wynne as she held the small crystal preciously in her hands. As cold and uncaring as the golem seemed to be most of the time, it seemed that it did have a small bit of kindness and caring to it. Perhaps hidden under heavy stone and rock, but there nonetheless it seemed.
Wynne used the magic in her blood to light up the crystal, amazed at how little energy it seemed to require in order to produce a bright and clear light. She then held it close to Zevran's skin and carefully prodded at his skin, measuring his reactions. His skin was not hot, which was strange considering the way venoms usually worked. However his pupils were over dilated, and his lips stuck to his teeth as if her dehydrated. There was also a slight sheen to his skin, as if all the oils and liquid in his body were slowly escaping his pores.
"Oghren! I need you to bring me that pail of water," Wynne stated without looking up as she moved over to Leliana and did a similar examination.
"Here ya go," he grunted as he set down the pail, the water splashing around wildly. "Ahh, sorry 'bout that," he apologized softly as some of the liquid splashed up over the lip of the pail and onto Zevran's face.
"It's alright-... wait! Oh Maker…"
"What?"
Wynne didn't respond, instead she leaned in closer to Zevran's face and examined the wet splotch on his cheek. The area where the water had touched him had changed color, showing no longer the pale greyish color of the first stage of the venom. The skin now looked slightly inflamed, a minor shade of light pink appearing as if he blushed.
"Get that water out of here! And don't get any more on them!" Wynne hissed as she quickly grabbed a portion of her robe and wiped Zevran's face.
"What has happened?" Morrigan demanded, her voice full of concern belying the anger that could be heard.
"Water for some reason is making it worse…" Wynne replied, carefully examining Zevran to make sure no other water got on him. Suddenly her gaze lifted to Morrigan's, dread and anxiety mixing together in her eyes. "How long until Riel's potion is done?"
"It is done now. She just needs to be awake to consume it as I cast the spell."
"Good," Wynne stated as she looked back down towards Zevran, tears gathering in her eyes. "Hold on, Zevran. You cannot leave her yet."
"I will require your aid," Morrigan stated, pulling up Wynne's focus.
The older woman gravely nodded her head, sending a prayer to the Maker to keep both young rogues alive for just a bit longer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alistair came awake as a blinding pain lashed through his skull. Groaning in agony, he rolled over to the side and cradled his head. "Maker….. what did you drink last night…." he grumbled to himself. His whole body hurt, as if he had been in some large battle while completely drunk out of his tree. That would certainly explain the pain and the nausea that currently assaulted him. Although he couldn't remember either event in his mind at the moment. Neither the fighting nor the drinking.
Wait…. I did drink something, didn't I? And the fighting….
"Oh Maker… Riel…." Alistair cursed as he tried to sit up. "Whoops, bad idea…" he groaned as the world suddenly spun wildly before him. With a grunt, Alistair fell back to the bed behind him and covered his eyes with his hand. "What on the Maker's green earth did they do to me…"
It was several minutes before Alistair attempted to sit up again. In slow movements he carefully raised his upper body up, bracing his arms beside him. The world started to spin again, but Alistair forced himself to focus. He needed to get up. To see how long he was out. To see if he could still catch up with the others. If only just so he could kill that blasted elf.
No, not Riel. The blonde haired assassin that somehow managed to lock his arms around Alistair's neck from behind, holding him in a headlock despite how many times Alistair slammed him against the wall. Damn elf was tougher than he looked. That just meant that Alistair was going to enjoy killing him more, though.
Although the fight was truly over when that giant Qunari bastard Sten grabbed hold of Alistair's jaw and wrenched it open. It was then that the bitch queen herself forced that foul liquid down his throat despite how much he tried to thrash against Shale's hold on his arms.
Alistair hadn't been so thoroughly beaten and forced to drink something since his days among the Templars. And those times it had simply been ale or mead being forced into his gullet. And he had already been drunk at the time. In fact, Alistair was pretty sure that even the vile concoction that people had to drink to become Grey Warden's tasted better than whatever it was that Morrigan fed to him.
Damn them all!
It took Alistair several more tries to manage to stand up fully, and when he was finally able to plant his feet and stand, a painful and loud crack could be heard from his back. "OW!" he yelled, his hand darting to the position of his back. Good news his back didn't hurt so much anymore. Bad news, he may be crippled…. With painful limps, Alistair walked over to the door of the room he was in. Taking a quick look out, it could have been any time of day for all he knew. Tapsters was always busy with dwarven patrons, drinking away whatever vile piss that passed for ale in the place.
Alistair shut the door again and looked about. There was no way to tell where they had gone. Riel no doubt took whatever maps that Bhelen gave to them with her. And who knows how long he had been flat out on his back, Maker only knew if she was even alive….
No! I can't think like that! he cursed to himself. He couldn't allow himself to think of all the ways the lovely Riel might suffer down in the dark of the Deep Roads. His own nightmares that he had suffered during his long sleep were enough to make his skin crawl. Whatever drink that Morrigan gave to him prevented him from waking up when his nightmares came, forcing his mind to endure the torture of them longer than he should have.
Maker only knew how Riel was faring down there, surrounded by countless Darkspawn and the very Archdemon himself. Even this close in Orzammar, Alistair had problems blocking out the whisperings and dreams. And he had the luxury of taking the brew that was known only to Grey Wardens to help silence the foul murmurs they heard.
Riel had refused….
"Maker, I have to find her!"
Alistair looked around the room, his eyes moving over their groups travelling bags and various possessions. The room he was in was shared between Sten and himself, while the women had their own room down the hall. However, Riel was granted her own room as usual. One that she foolishly decided to share with that bastard elf!
Gritting his teeth, Alistair opened the door and ducked out of the room. With long strides, he quickly approached the door that Riel had used before she had left. However, he paused before opening it. Was he really going to go through with it? Was he going to go through her things, on the small hope that she have left something behind that could help him find her?
A light blush came to Alistair's face as he thought of the things women usually kept in their personal bags. Feminine, dainty things like ribbons and brushes for their hair. Small satchels of nice smelling herbs to help them smell pretty. And the small clothes…
Alistair almost lost his nerve right there. He knew that they would be travelling as light as they could in the Deep Roads, so no doubt much of the extra things would be left behind. Things that only she had seen or touched….
Except for Zevran his mind cruelly reminded him. Cursing, Alistair opened up the door to Riel's room and stepped inside. It infuriated him how his Riel was being used by that assassin. How he knew Riel in ways that Alistair didn't. Thank the Maker that he hadn't had endure the sounds of their…. doing things…
In the few days since they reunited at the gates of Orzammar, the closet the two of them appeared was just holding and hugging. Which was enough as it was to make Alistair's blood boil. However even he wasn't naive enough to not see how something had changed between his Riel and that bastard. Since meeting up with them, Riel walked differently. She carried herself differently. And a new sexual appreciation and territorial light appeared in that assassin's eyes whenever he looked at Riel.
And that knowledge seared Alistair right down to the bone. He needed to get her away from him. Before whatever that assassin was planning hurt her too deeply. She had already been through far too much, and Alistair wasn't about to let some elven assassin come in and destroy her even further than she was. Riel needed healing, not to be played and toyed with by a murderous bastard who would gladly give her up to Loghain once she was no longer useful to him.
Alistair quickly scanned the small room. There was a singular bed up against the wall, made from carved stone and covered with furs and pillows to make it comfortable. There were no windows, however a glowing fireplace filled with glow stones lighted the room well enough to see. And beside it were several large bags that no doubt belonged to his Riel and that bastard.
Cursing, Alistair went over to the bags and tried to determine which one was which. However, they both looked the same. Both Riel and the assassin were rogues, and carried similar kits and common items in their bags. Alistair grabbed at the one closest to him and started going through it. He needed to find her. He needed to protect her. Even if she hated him, that didn't change the way that he felt for her.
"What's this?" he asked to himself quietly as he pulled out a letter made out thick parchment. It was at the very bottom of the bag, yet it didn't look like any type of paper that Alistair recognized. Definitely not something he had seen the dwarves use. Alistair sat back and looked the letter over, noticing the seal in the dim light of the fireplace. "By the Maker…." he cursed. There in the center, dipped in hot wax was the seal of the Antivan Crows. It wasn't something that he had seen often, however Duncan was widely known and would sometimes get letters with this seal on them. Usually updates from his contacts within the Crows.
With shaking hands, Alistair opened up the letter and began to read. And with each word, his anger rose to phenomenal levels. That bastard! I KNEW it! Alistair cursed to himself. There in his hands was every suspicion he had about the elf made real. Every fear he had over Riel being so close to that cold hearted assassin was confirmed in that one letter. And by the Maker, he would prevent Riel from falling for his trap! Perhaps he wouldn't have to kill the elf after all.
Once Riel reads this letter, she would do it herself!
By the Maker, his luck was finally turning around!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carefully Morrigan poured the first liquid down Riel's open mouth. Curiously, she found herself uttering a prayer to a being that she didn't believe in, if only in the smallest of hopes that it would actually work and ease her friend's awakening. The brew that she had made for Zevran to put Riel to sleep was one that was well familiar with, however this was the first time that she had intentionally tried to make it more pleasant than it actually was.
Mostly Flemeth had used the drink on lost travellers who by ill-luck stumbled across her hut but who were otherwise harmless. After whatever traveller had succumbed to the drink, Flemeth would deposit them at the edge of the wilds where they would either rise in time to defend themselves if need be. Or they would die to elements and animals. Either way, their trail would not lead those looking for the travellers to Flemeth's door. Which was all the old woman rightly cared for.
Morrigan had tried to make the brew pleasant and decrease the after effects for her friend, but it was the first time that she had ever had the desire to do. As such, the measurement of the right herbs was more of guess than she was comfortable with. Which unfortunately now left Morrigan wondering as how Riel would fare once she had properly awaken. Headaches and body aches were common. However, there was no real way of knowing how it would effect someone with the taint in them as Riel had. Something that Morrigan wasn't all too concerned with when it was Alistair being the one to consume the potion. With Riel, however…. It left a curious pain in Morrigan's chest thinking about it.
Riel came awake with a blood curdling scream. Trashing around blindly, in her mind she was still fighting off the Darkspawn and ghouls that tried to swallow her. Slowly the strangely accented voice of the female witch broke through her tremors and fear. Opening her eyes, Riel looked around frantically. She was in her tent. The familiar belongings acting as an anchor to hold on to as her mind grasped for something real.
"You are awake, Riel!" Morrigan called out, her arms holding Riel down by her shoulders.
"I think she hears you, Morrigan. You don't need to hold her down anymore," another feminine voice stated softly. Older, wiser than Morrigan's. Riel's eyes shot to the side and spied the elderly mage Wynne sitting next to Morrigan, holding something in her hands.
"I do not wish to be hit again! I will release her when her senses have returned and no sooner!" she bit back angrily, her yellow eyes flashing.
"W-whe-where's Zev-" Riel tried to ask around the cotton feeling of her tongue. Speaking however just increased the pain in her skull, and her eyes snapped shut as a wave of nausea came over her.
"You need to focus on yourself right now, dear," Wynne replied in her motherly manner. All warm and full of concern and caring. Riel barely heard her however through the pounding in her head.
Creators! What is happening to me? she thought to herself. Yet she couldn't let go of the feeling that she needed Zevran. That if she could just get to him, everything would be fine again. To hear his voice, and feel his arms around her… The world that spun and the pain that lanced through her body would go away if she could just get to him.
"Zevran?" Riel asked again, daring to open her eyes once more. However the look of fear and worry that stretched across both women's faces made Riel's heart lurch in her chest. Their concern wasn't for her. Something had happened. Something bad. "Where's Zevran?"
"He is… indisposed," Morrigan answered, her eyes avoiding Riel's. "However, you must drink this now. It will help."
Riel looked at the cup that Morrigan now held in her hands. It was the same one that Wynne was holding a moment ago. Was it actually blue? she thought, looking inside. In truth, it didn't look like a liquid at all. More like an extremely thick potion. What were they giving her?
"What is it?" Riel replied suspiciously, eyeing the strange liquid in the cup.
"It will ease you. Now drink."
Riel looked up and pegged Morrigan with a glare. Then with a quick look over to Wynne, she knew. They are hiding something from me. With the way Wynne's eyes refused to meet her own, and the hard yet concerned look Morrigan gave her. They were testing her reaction. And not just because she woke up in a very nasty way.
"The drink that Zevran gave to me. You gave it to him, didn't you?" Riel hissed out. Seeing the look of shame on both women's faces confirmed her suspicions. "By the void! You did too, didn't you? You drugged me!" Riel hurriedly sat up and moved away from the two women.
"It was only to help you sleep…" Wynne pleaded, yet Riel found no comfort in her words.
"Zevran knew, didn't he? You all knew?!"
Riel's mind spun wildly. She hated being drugged. It was what they used to do to her when she fought back too much. When they wanted her more compliant for the people who paid the bastards who kept her. It made her defenceless, powerless, and at the mercy of all those she hated and who would hurt her.
And Zevran knew!
"Where is Zevran?!" Riel demanded, her eyes blazing fire in her anger.
"We will discuss that later. First, you must drink, Riel," Morrigan stated again, lifting up the cup for Riel to take.
"Void take you!" she spat out, tempted to toss whatever it was back in the witch's face. Yet Creator's only knew what was in it. With her luck, it would explode if she knocked it down to the ground.
"Riel please…. It was the only way…" Wynne tried again, yet Riel wouldn't hear any of it.
"They only way? Do you know what I went through? The nightmares that I couldn't wake up from? The things I endured without being able to escape? What I saw, and felt and had to do because I couldn't wake up?!"
The images of her nightmares assaulted Riel's mind once more. The deep seductive voice that spoke to her, commanding her to do vile things that she couldn't help but obey. The things that were done to her by the same voice that commanded the creatures in her nightmares. And beyond that all, the voices of the demons that spoke to her, whispering everything she ever wanted to her.
"You didn't say she would have her nightmares, Morrigan!" Wynne gasped, her eyes hitting the younger mage with an accusatory look.
Morrigan sighed heavily, her eyes closing and her shoulders drooping. "I did not know. 'Tis true that the potion kept her asleep, however I have never used it on someone in Riel's condition before. Besides Alistair, that is, of course."
"So you did drug me!" Riel cursed, wishing she wasn't naked and unable to reach her daggers. How could I have trusted these people? Anyone of them? Creators, what a fool I have been!
"Only so we could go get the-"
"Riel, whatever you think of us," Morrigan began, cutting of Wynne's confession. "Whatever you may think of myself, or Wynne or any of the others, know that Zevran did everything he did to help you. And now, he needs your help in return."
That caught Riel's attention. As furious as she was, for some reason she just couldn't seem to turn off that part of her heart that still cared for the other elf. No matter how much she wanted to. "What happened?" she asked, her voice waivering.
"Before I tell you that, know that you cannot help him unless you drink this." Morrigan again offered the cup with the strange liquid inside of it. "And if you do not do so quickly, I guarantee you that you shall regret it for the rest of your life."
Riel looked hard at the woman she had so easily called her friend. Morrigan hadn't ever lied to her. Even when she could have in the past, the witch had always chosen to be honest. Even if her answers were cruel, or sharp, or angry. She always told her the truth. But what of now? Was this another trick? What if it wasn't?
With tears pricking at her eyes and hatred in her glare, Riel grabbed the offered cup without even looking at it. Then with a silent prayer to the Creators, she lifted it to her lips and took a long swallow. The thick liquid caused her to cough as it slid down her throat, feeling as if it were boiling her skin from the inside out.
It tasted like hot metal in her mouth, reminding Riel of the one and only time she had tasted lyrium years ago while amongst her clan. The Keeper had tried to show her how to brew the potion, and Riel had tasted the concoction out of curiosity. It had the same type of metallic taste that this did. Yet, there was something different about it too. Something heavier and more of an earthy taste than the lyrium was.
Morrigan murmured the spell's incantation over Riel twice, making sure that it worked. Blue light emitted from her hand and went into Riel, mixing with the liquid she had consumed. All the while Riel glared heatedly at both her and Wynne, her eyes showing clearly the pain of betrayal and immense anger.
"All of it, Riel. It must all be consumed, and I must do the spell once more," Morrigan uttered quietly, shame in her voice. Even her eyes looked filled with regret as Riel looked upon her. Yet Riel couldn't find it within herself to trust the expressions she saw. What fragile trust the two women had built together was broken and laid now in shards the moment the witch had agreed to drug her.
With Riel's eyes glaring menacingly at Morrigan, she lifted the cup to her lips once more and forced herself to drink the rest of the concoction. By the Creators! Why am I trusting these people? she cursed to herself, even as she felt the liquid flow over her tongue and down her throat. WIth a final gulp, Riel emptied the cup and all but threw it back at the witch.
"How long before the poison you gave me kills me?" she spat bitterly, unable to resist the jab. And it produced the look she wanted, even if she was surprised to see it. Hurt. Shame. Regret.
"'Tis not poison. Although, I doubt you will believe me," Morrigan sighed, doing her best to hide the hurt in her voice and eyes. And failing for the most part.
"You're right. I don't believe you," Riel snapped. "Now, where is Zevran? And what happened during the time I was drugged and unable to fight against the evil things that happened to me in my nightmares?"
Both women remained silent for a moment, their expressions shifting quickly, yet seeming to match the other's despite not looking at each other. In tandem, expressions of shock, regret, sadness, and then fear showed on their faces. And not fear of her. Fear of something else. Something had happened while she was unconscious. Something to Zevran. And they didn't want to tell her.
"By the Void! Tell me what happened!" Riel snapped, unable to take the silence anymore.
"I think it's better if we just show her," Wynne stated softly, getting a slight nod from Morrigan. "We will meet you by the fire. Get dressed quickly, and wear your armor. You're probably going to want to leave soon after you see them…" Wynne added before turning to leave the tent.
"W-wait! Them?!" Riel sputtered, unsure if she heard the woman correctly. There were two people that something happened to? By the Creators!
"Just dress quickly, Riel. Too much time has already been wasted…." Wynne replied, her whole countenance drawn in sadness. Riel looked over to Morrigan, hoping to get an answer from her, yet the younger mage only mimicked Wynne's expression, shaking her head briskly before both of them left her tent, leaving her alone.
"What is going on?" Riel cursed to herself, rubbing her face. A low growl erupted from her throat, born out of frustration, fear, and anger. Quickly Riel dressed and pulled on her leathers. The last thing she settled into place were her matching daggers. A gift from Zevran before they had left Orzammar for the Deep Roads. He had told her that he wouldn't be satisfied with the 'old and cheap knives that were too overused' as he had put it. He instead offered her the two blades she had now.
Two beautifully made daggers, their hilts bearing gold and small glittering gems. Yet for how obviously gorgeous they were, what Riel prized more was how well they were used in combat. How easily she had sliced through bone and flesh. Cutting through the crude armor that the Darkspawn wore and through the tough hides and skins of the other foul creatures that lurked in these dark passages. Well balanced. Well made. They were a true gift, picked just as much for their usefulness as their appearance.
What happened to Zevran? the thought erased the small smile that had appeared on Riel's lips from the earlier memory. Despite his betrayal, Riel couldn't force her heart to stop caring about him. At that moment, she wanted to hate him. To let whatever problems plagued him do whatever it wished. Kill him, maim him, leave him rotting down here with all the other corpses.
That what she wanted to want. Her heart, it seemed, was just as much a traitor as he was, though.
Stepping out of her tent, Riel looked around the small room, taking note of who was up walking around and their positions. Sten and Shale were speaking quietly over by the entrance. Oghren was looking at maps over by the where she had left them earlier. Fen'harel was lying by the fire. And beside the fire were Morrigan and Wynne, kneeling over….
"Zevran!" Riel cried out as she ran towards him.
All anger she had felt for him left as he looked down at his still form. Lying there, unconscious, he looked as if death had already come for him. His skin was a sickly pale grey color. Only a small patch on his cheek seemed to hold any color anymore. His brow was tense, and he looked as if he was in pain even though he was clearly unconscious.
Riel carefully laid her hands on Zevran's cheeks, tears coming spilling forth from her eyes. There was smudges of blood on his face and neck, and he looked as if he was sweating despite how cold he felt. Riel then looked to her side and her heart broke all over again when she saw who was lying next to him.
"Leliana… no…." she cried, carefully touching the woman's face. She was the exact same as Zevran.
Each Lost in some form of dreamstate, the pain they were in obvious on their faces and tense muscles. Examining Leliana, Riel gasped when she saw the wound on her upper chest. Red and angry skin oozed green and black around a hole that looked more like she was run through with a lance rather than a sword. Looking back to Zevran, Riel quickly scanned over his body looking for injuries. She then spotted his torn leggings, the wound just above the knee. Carefully peeling back the fabric, his wound was much the same as Leliana's had been. Infected, oozing, and no doubt extremely painful.
"Why haven't you healed them?!" Riel demanded angrily to Wynne, her eyes clouded with unshed tears.
"I have done all that I can, Riel. What has been done to them is beyond my healing," Wynne replied regretfully.
"You!" Riel shouted at Morrigan next. "Can't you make a potion or a poultice or something to help them?!"
"The only thing that can aid them lies back where this first happened," Morrigan replied in her usual far too calm tone. "They were injured by nest spiders. The venom that is coursing through their veins can only be cured by retrieving the eggs of the ones who did this."
Riel looked back down to Leliana, placing her hand on her cold cheeks. By the Creators, she felt dead already. Then she turned her attention to Zevran's still form. Bending down, she placed both her hands on either side of his face. She then closed her eyes and placed a light kiss against his lips.
"I swear to Elgar'nan Zevran… If you die from this, I will hunt you down in the Beyond itself to drag you back," Riel hissed against his lips. "No one is going to kill you but me." Riel then sat up and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands before pinning both Morrigan and Wynne with a deathly glare. "Now. What's the plan?"
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Vhenan'ara