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Tainted Dreams	By : wyldehart Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters and Dragon Age are property of Bioware/EA. I made no money, sadly.

Chapter List
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Ambrose crouched down before Elissa and smiled at her, a safe distance between the raging red-headed girl and himself. "Garrik, why did you intercept us?" he asked as he reached out to her. She kicked out at his hand and he yelped as he snatched it back. She was very pissed off at him. She rather reminded him of a tied-up Mbari Warhound he once considered taking pity on before it tried to remove his face with its teeth. He guessed the outcome would be much the same if she were set loose.
The proud Templar stood tall, hands on his hips and seemingly oblivious to the storm raining around them. "I found out what she plans on doing with the Commander and it's not pretty. In fact, it means a certain death for all of us. I came to advise you to stay away! I have a…arrangement worked out that should protect your kids 'til you can get help here. Trust me…this is bad."
Elissa's wide, teal eyes snapped back and forth between the men's faces. She kept trying to ask something, something which was made unintelligible by the gag. Ambrose, still crouched near her, looked askance at her flushed face. "Mon ce'aire, my sweet, do you promise not to force my testicles up my nose if I untie you?" he asked with a chuckle. She tilted her head to the side and gave him a look he thought didn't guarantee the possibility. Bravely, he thought, he removed the gag and she immediately started swearing.
When the tirade was over, Ambrose was sitting back on his heels, watching her, the Templar hovering over his shoulder. She felt like an exotic animal in a zoo as the two men observed her. "Will you please untie my hands?" she snapped.
"And watch you run off and get yourself killed? I think not," the Templar said. "You need to know what she plans to do with you. Or more specifically, your babies."
She had had enough. Elissa squeezed shut her eyes and muttered, "Fine! I won't go anywhere, okay? I swear it." Ambrose reached out and carefully undid the elaborate knot binding her hands together. She reached out to him and he embraced her gently, his lips over hers. "I'm sorry I ran off on you…" she whispered against his kiss.
He chuckled softly into her hair. "Non. It's fine. Listen to Garrick, my love." Garrick observed the whole scene with a raised eyebrow.
"Aren't you also the Queen of Ferelden? Married to Alistair, the king? Why are you with him?" he asked her, confusion crossing his handsome face. For as classically heroic as his baritone voice was, his face matched. With thick, blond hair, blue eyes and a square face, with a square jaw that appeared chiseled, as if it had come from some artist's hands, Garrick's features were composed of a man's stereotypical beauty. He was almost too perfect.
Elissa rose to her feet with Ambrose's help. "Let me guess… This is the part where you tell me I'm cheating on my husband and what a bad, bad girl I am, right?" she quipped with a smile as she leaned against her tall lover. Ambrose encircled her shoulders with his arm.
Garrick raised an armored finger and recited, "'…and the Maker sayeth that marriage is a sacred covenant of the Chantry and unfaithfulness to one's spouse is unfaithfulness to our one, true lord, Our Maker.' Adultery is a sin."
She rolled her eyes and walked over to him slowly. She then very deliberately reached up and locked lips with him in a passionate kiss that left him breathless. "The chantry crap? I am so over it. I'm sorry if I disagree. Besides, I have permission and Ambrose is part of our family. That is why I must help his children."
Garrick was still recovering from the kiss when Elissa walked back over and leaned her back against the tree. The rain had abated somewhat but clouds were thicker and thunder grumbled somewhere off in the distance. Ambrose seemed nervous, his eyes darting around as if expecting an attack from somewhere. "The Alistair I knew as a boy would never have agreed to such an arrangement. Granted he wasn't the most devout of us but he had finely-honed sense of justice that I found admirable."
Elissa shrugged. "He fell in love with me and he learned that I have an appetite for sex that drives me into the arms of other men, often by accident. Rather than be critical of me for it, he has embraced it and has even used it to his advantage. You might say he's been hardened a bit. Alistair is much more open-minded than he used to be. So you know him?"
The big Templar nodded and looked off into the distance at the oncoming storm. "We were raised in the abbey together. I was the only noble's son who tolerated his antics. Maker, but do I have some stories. He was a bad influence on me. I spent as much time covering for him as he spent washing dishes. It kept him out of Mass, though…"
Ambrose touched her shoulder. "Darkspawn coming closer…" he murmured. She couldn't sense them yet but the look in his eyes was telling. She loosened her weapons and Ambrose dropped their gear. "Stories later, Ser. Why does the abomination want me?" Elissa asked.
The Templar sighed and stood before her. "Within you are two children. One is a powerful mage and the other has called the Grey Warden Taint to him. He has apparently made it a part of his make-up, part of what he is. In essence, his body has mastered it and she is desperate for him. For when he reaches an age when he can lead, the child will either be the mightiest of Grey Wardens or…" Garrick drew a breath, his eyes tightly shut. "…or a kind of Archdemon that would rule the Darkspawn as a king and the Abomination wishes to breed with him, control him and from here, where the veil is thin, begin her demonic domination of the world. The other child she would give to another demon to inhabit. She has amassed an army of Darkspawn, Malificarum and bloodmages to ensure she succeeds. I have tried to find a way to stop her. This is, after all, my own damn fault."
Elissa could now sense the encroaching Darkspawn. There were many of them. "How so?" she asked, her sword in hand, eyes darting about.
"My first year as a Templar, I was sent out to fetch back an escaped Apostate and I promptly fell in love with her. I know, I know, 'Bad Garrick!' but love is a devious thing and I was smitten. We moved to this village and I expected life to be perfect. I was wrong. She raised the demon and…"
"…she became the abomination?" Elissa finished.
"For a time, yes, until I took her head. The monster fled into the nearest mage it could sense after I killed its first host."
Ambrose glowered darkly at Garrick, his eyebrows drawn together. "My wife!" he spat.
The big Templar hung his head and nodded slowly. "This time, she surrounded herself with her army and took Ambrose's family as hostages. She promised him that she would preserve their lives if he went to fetch you, Commander. I was allowed freedom to come and go as I pleased because I was not seen as any kind of threat. Annoyance, perhaps, but I was not a threat. So I have done my best to protect Ambroses' son and daughter. They are still both alive but a day ago, she stated that the Bloodmages could have their way with them because she was tired of waiting. Her scouts returned with news that you were near so…
"…here I am. To warn you. Go back to Alistair. Bring your Grey wardens and whatever troops Celene can afford. I am doing my best to keep the children alive."
Ambrose sighed and looked at Elissa. "He's right. As soon as we dispatch these Darkspawn, we need to head back as quickly as we can. Okay?"
"…Yes." She said reluctantly. That's when the first Darkspawn appeared. They rushed Garrick and Ambrose but they carefully avoided Elissa. They were ruthless in their attacks and determined to kill the men with sword and magic. Yet, for some reason, try as she might, they refused to attack her so she struck at them instead. Blood and bodies flew about as the first wave ended, the breathless humans winning the bout.
"There's more!" warned Ambrose. There were more. Dozens more. They were accompanied by Malificarum and Bloodmages, whose hands glowed with prepared combat spells. The three humans were completely surrounded. The mass of enemies hovered close, awaiting a signal they knew would come.
Then, a magical vision of a woman appeared before them. She might have been pretty once but the demon within her had transformed the face so it was thinner, more delicate and certainly more evil-looking. Her breasts were bare save the chains and loops of pearls decorating her magic-sculpted torso. The eyes burned with evil, however, and it is there that one ceased thinking of her as "pretty".
"My my, it does seem that you are at a disadvantage! The choice, of course, is yours but I will grant you an opportunity to kill yourselves if you wish. The alternative, of course, is that the Commander comes with me and your lives are spared. Though, Garrick, spared as you might be, I fear you'll lose some of your precious freedom. You were a bad boy and snuck off to warn them. Tsk-tsk. I am ashamed of you," the demon said as she looked at each warrior, especially Elissa. Her expression was filled with lust, desire and hunger for what she had inside her.
"We will not back down!" Garrick shouted suddenly as Ambrose stood protectively in front of Elissa. Her expression was lost behind the men. "Bring them on!" Ambrose added.
The Abomination sighed and gestured to her General, a tall woman bearing an ornate staff and a wicked smile. The staff was lowered and the three were swarmed. The fight lasted only a very short time before Elissa, covered with mud and blood stopped it. She was about to watch a Hurlock use his twin blades to decapitate Ambrose, something she could not bear to watch so she raised her hand and shouted, "NO! We give up! I surrender! I will go with you if you promise me you will spare their lives!" Ambrose rushed to her side, weeping as Garrick rose from the ground where a spear had partially impaled his arm. He pulled it out and threw it onto the muddy, gore-strewn ground in disgust.
"We cannot defeat them, my love…" she whispered into Ambrose's soaked, black hair as he held her against him. "You must run. Get Alistair and as many others as you can before it's too late," she said for his ear only. He nodded against her and held her more tightly than he thought he could. "I love you with everything I am. Tell Alistair that he is my life, my breath… Tell him I will be here. I love you…" She leaned back and then kissed him longingly, passionately and quite thoroughly. Their tears mingled together with the rain and, as two Bloodmages took her by her arms and hauled her away, Ambrose sobbed loudly and fell to his knees in the slippery mix of mud and gore.
Two more Bloodmages came for Garrick and took him as well. He struggled bravely against them but he was shoved forward by an armored Hurlock. "You must not fail, Ambrose!" he shouted above the sound of the storm and the marching feet of the many bodies around them. The tall Orlesian nodded, picked up his trampled pack and started walking back the way he came. Why they did not pursue him, he couldn't say but the demon, however evil she was, had kept her part of the bargain. Tears and rain blinding him, he left to get the only man in the world capable of undoing the events that Ambrose felt responsible for setting into motion.

Alistair was sitting in Celene's study with a book in his lap when a guard came sliding in. He'd been running as fast as he could down the long corridors of the Imperial Palace and didn't stop until he rounded the corner into the office. He was panting, about to speak when Celene interrupted him. She glared at him with rage. "How dare you barge into my private office!" she shouted.
Gasping, the guard said, "My Lady, we have a man here stating our land is in grave danger! That he must see the Fereleden King and you! He looks to have been in a great battle and he is wounded. He said his name is Ambr-"
"Send him to me and fetch some salves. I need the Chevalier Commander as well. Alistair, if what Ambrose tells us is the proof I need, you will get your troops." She told the guard to meet them in her private meeting room. She gestured for Alistair to follow her and they entered a large, half-circular room. Once it might have been referred to as a war-room where a map of Thedas graced the far wall and seats were arranged in a semi-circle in front of it. Celene had struck "war" from its title as they were currently enjoying a period of peace. However, for creating a strategic defense or deciding battle plans (or her next vacation) the room was perfect.
Next to the map of Thedas was a massive map of Orlais and it was this she stared at as Ambrose came walking in. He looked as terrible as the night she first laid eyes on him. He fell to his knees at Alistair's feet, his long black hair in wet tendrils that clung to his bewhiskered cheeks. The man was coated in mud and two-day old blood. The rain, it seemed, had chased him here. He was sobbing so hard, his words were unintelligible. Alistair dropped to his knees and carefully helped Ambrose climb to his feet. The blue eyes were intense, searching as he looked at the King's worried expression. He then leaned in and kissed him as he said, "I lost her, Alistair. She's been taken by them and I could do nothing to stop it."
Alistair's skin blanched as he pushed Ambrose away from him by the shoulders. "You lost her? You lost my wife?" he shouted, incredulously. The tall Orlesian nodded slowly. "How dare you!" His fist contacted Ambrose's nose before either of them knew what was happening. The man flew backwards with the force of the blow and slid on his back until his momentum was halted by a rug. His nose erupted with a fresh flow of bright red liquid as he lay on his back. Alistair had his sword drawn and was advancing when the Chevalier Commander had the stupidity to open his mouth.
"What?" Alistair growled as he turned to look at the Commander. Celene, watching all of this with wide eyes, reached out and tried to stop Alistair before he dragged the Chevalier by his cloak and threw him onto the ground. "Say it again, bastard!"
"She is replacable! Just a woman! Why must we rush to save a single woman? You can always marry again!" The fool just couldn't shut his mouth. What made things worse was that he seemed totally convinced of his idiotic dialogue, which would get him killed. Alistair held the sword-point up above his face and started to lower it. But then, something, someone stopped him.
Celene stood beside Alistair and ran her delicate fingers along his arm, sending chills throughout his body as the touch was conveyed through the thin fabric of his shirt. Her hand stopped at the pommel of his sword, where he had a death-grip on the hilt. She then curled those delicate fingers around his hands, halting the downward thrust before it could be completed. "Non non non, Alistair,"she murmured slowly, carefully. "You will spill no more blood upon this floor. Come, put down the sword and think with a thought and not your pride."
Alistair swallowed, hard. "He said she can be replaced, my wife can be replaced! My wife cannot be replaced, Empress!" he wailed. He was weeping hard now and Ambrose, finally back on his feet and his face a bloody mess, came around to Alistair's other side. His hands were supportive and the love was evident. He said nothing. Whatever Alistair thought was necessary, he would abide by. All that mattered now was that he was there. Alistair, for his part, seemed to relax a bit with Ambrose lovingly supporting him.
"Von, the man is a fool with a big mouth and I promise I will humiliate him in a way that will show my great displeasure. However, enough blood has been shed on my floor this day. Must there be more? Must a life be taken because a man cannot be silent?"
Below, lying prone on the ground, the Chevalier foolishly tried explaining his opinion, something Alistair was having none of. The blade pressed into the man's cheek, cutting it open and drawing blood. It oozed down his face, pooling in the gap of his armor near the neck. "Be silent!" Celene shouted. "If you value your life, your mouth is sealed!" she said in Orlesian. Alistair understood it well enough because of his recent study of the language.
He faltered ever so slowly, his hands weakening their grip on the sword. Celene snatched it and threw it aside to the marble floor where it slid with a metallic screech before clanging against the wall. Ambrose pulled Alistair away as the young king numbly stared at the wounded man on the floor. The Chevalier now had a nasty wound on his face, which would need stitches at the least. Alistair then began to cry into Ambrose's shoulder. The two men held one another tightly as Celene helped the big-mouthed Chevalier to his knees.
"Due to your idiotic and archaic theories about women, you are hereby dropped to the rank of Private, to be stripped of your station, your armor, your privileges and as much as seventy per-cent of your pay. See the healer and then join the men in the barracks. Your new commander will be joining you shortly once we hammer out a suitable plan of attack." The former commander stared at up her in silence at first as he listened. Then he started protesting and finally begged to know who the new commander could be because he thought he should have a say.
She smiled and came around to Ambrose's muddy, bloody back and touched his shoulders daintily with her delicate hands. "Him, of course! He was never stripped of his title by my uncle, after all and so he remains a Chevalier. After all these years, he would have been commander in the least."
Ambrose's protests were ignored as Celene laughed and pinched her nose delicately. "Alistair, take the commander away for a bath, some salves and some much-needed affection. I will be at your rooms shortly after I dispatch this fool to the rest of his command."
To be continued!
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Tainted Dreams