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In good times and in bad	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 14749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction

Chapter List
- 73
- 74
- 75
@discord_the_lunatic: See end of this chapter. ;)
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All I get from Zathrian is... a lot of pigeon crap. At least that's what Shale calls it. I still decline her offer to have her stomp on his foot and see if he changes his mind about not knowing why the werewolves hate the Dalish so much. It's tempting, though. Even more since Sten breathes down my neck and carps about everything I say or do, calling it a waste of time. Why talk to the Dalish and find out more about the curse if we could be out there and slay Witherfang? My temper isn't any better than Rori's was during her last days. I've been trying to be nice. I've been trying to explain my decisions but enough is enough.
"Nobody has asked for your opinion!" I snarl at the Qunari before I can even think twice. Not that I do that often. Think twice... or think at all before acting... at least that's what Morrigan keeps saying... I think, I think too much, although I prefer if others do the thinking for me... There you go, already a lot of thinking done... Back to Sten glaring icily at me. "I give orders, you act under these orders. Nothing more, nothing less. It can't be that hard to understand!"
Why anybody would want to be a leader is totally beyond me. Even more now than before. I feel constantly overstressed and like a complete failure. I am sure that Rori would have squeezed every tiny detail out of Zathrian by now... just she's not here. She's out there running with the pack.
Strangely my outburst seems to impress Sten. I mean, that always grumpy and sour look on his face doesn't change a bit. But he grunts and nods slightly. I take it, that's approval. Whatever. At least he doesn't punch me straight in the face. That's something after all. I do like my nose like it is. My teeth are rather pretty, too. I would appreciate if I could keep them for some time longer.
Sten is not the only one getting on my nerves. Wynne keeps questioning my willingness to be a Grey Warden. Whatever I do, she reminds me this is about the Blight and not about saving Rori.
"I know this is hard. And I wish nothing more than saving Rori was possible, but are you sure, are you really sure, you still perform as a Grey Warden?" Wynne says when I lead my companions back into the forest. She's at my heels, trying to keep up with me as I set a hasty pace - as if I could run away from all this. Well, I can't. Wynne's still there and although she pants, it doesn't stop her from lecturing me.
"And are you sure, you'd nag Rori as much if she was here and had the same doubts I have about Zathrian's story?" I demand to know.
"She is not here, Alistair," Wynne reminds me soothingly.
As if I needed a reminder! I lie in my tent all alone at night and all I got left of my love is a pair of rainbow coloured striped socks and her Grey Warden amulet. The first I clutch in my hand, the second I wear around my neck next to my own. I use her pillow because it smells of her. But nothing, absolutely nothing can ease that aching in my chest that comes with the lonliness.
I try to steele myself for that one decision, should I have to make it... But for now I'd very much like to keep hoping. Some support would be nice, thank you.
"Rori has always tried to do the right thing, even if it meant taking the long and winding path instead of travelling down the broad road." I say as calmly as I can manage. I fail miserably. I practically snap at Wynne. "She didn't give Branka the anvil, although the smith could have created more golems with it to help us fight the darkspawn. She could have abandoned Redcliffe - why fight any undead and risk dying in that battle? She did save the mages - including you - because she didn't want any innocent to die. She also could have allied with the templars and just killed everything alive in that tower - including you."
I talk myself into a rage, my voice becoming louder and louder and more aggressive with every word.
In the following silence, Wynne just cocks an eyebrow. "Did she bite you?" the granny mage then asks carefully.
I choose to ignore her. Instead I inhale deeply to calm myself down. It doesn't work. "W-what makes me so angry... so sad... and it's also disappointing," I stammer, wishing I wasn't looking like a kicked puppy. I'd rather look... grand... and... oh, I don't know... have poise... "If any of you suffered what Rori has to endure right now, she'd bend over backwards to save you."
It's true.
And they all know it.
From that moment on there's no more discussions, no more questioning my leadership. No more lecturing about my responsibility. And Zevran gives me thumbs up behind Wynne's back.
Now that this is solved, there's still the problem that I have absolutely no clue where to find Witherfang. So I run around the forest aimlessly with my rather silent companions in tow and try to appear competent. Not that the others know any better what to do now - well, maybe Sten. Or at least he believes he knows better... anyway, they are all - with the exception of Sten - as clueless as I am but because I am the leader, I'm the one responsible for our progress that is just not happening.
Actually, I do hope for Rori to return and tell me what to do. Instead we run into... Morrigan.
Nobody is delighted to see her. Well, I am... for about as long as it takes me to realize she is alone.
"Where's Rori?" I shout at her as soon as she has changed back to her human form. My voice sounds awfully shrill from the panic that takes hold of me when I see the witch without my woman... wolf... wolf-woman...
"She's with the werewolves..."
"And why are you here? You promised you wouldn't leave her alone! You nasty... treacherous... lying... witch!" I feel like throttling her. That's not new to me. I often feel like throttling her, but I swear, I've never been that close. I'm really not good at coping with having lost Rori... maybe for good. My face is bright red - for once from anger - and the veins at my temples are throbbing. I am so obviously mad, it causes Leliana, Wynne and Zevran to retreat and Sten to put his hand to the hilt of his sword. "She has not bitten me!" I snap at my companions.
The witch is the only one to stay utterly unimpressed.
"Witherfang at once knew I am none of her werewolves," Morrigan explains coolly. "She appeared in form of a great white wolf - but there's for sure more than meets the eye. She's not the bloodthirsty beast the keeper described. She took Rori in as a sister without hesitation. However, she wouldn't let me accompany Rori."
"Then... why didn't you bring her back here?" I stammer. "Why did you leave her with them?"
"Witherfang agreed to negotiate with Rori about the matters of the Dalish. So she went with the werewolves."
"But she's all alone!" Knowing Rori, I shouldn't be too worried. She managed to win over her companions to follow her into any battle. Even Sten. Morrigan calls her a sister. Zevran calls her the best friend he ever had. Shale has begun to address Rori with her name... sometimes... If anybody can talk a group of murderous bloodthirsty werewolves into becoming vegetarians and peace activists, it's probably Rori. Still... Maker, I feel so useless...
"She's not. Barkley is with her."
"He's only a dog!"
"I'd be more worried if she was with you, Alistair," Morrigan comments. "Now, what have you found out?"
"Nothing," I mutter compunctiously. Talk about feeling useless... I'm the personification of uselessness. Anybody looking up 'uselessness' in an encyclopaedia should find my image grinning foolishly at the spectator from that page.
"Now, that was to be expected, wasn't it?"
"And what have you found out?" I sigh, rubbing my forehead tiredly.
"I know where the lair of the werewolves is," Morrigan says matter-of-factly.
Of course.
The witch takes the lead and where I've felt awfully lost all day long, Morrigan is very sure of where she's going... until she suddenly stops, frowning in confusion.
"What...? Blood and damnation! We have to go back..."
"Did you lose your way?" Usually I'd sneer now and rub it in. Maker, how long have I been waiting for a moment like this! That one moment when Morrigan is not as über-smart as she always claims to be. And now here it is: Morrigan failing at finding her way through the woods... and I can't even laugh about it, because her failure means I cannot get to Rori. So instead of utterly enjoying the witch's error, I try to help her. "Did we miss a landmark?"
"Perhaps..." Confused Morrigan attempts to lead us back to where we came from. We all turn round... only to find that the path we've just walked on to be gone. It was only a narrow deer crossing but it for sure was there... where now there's a huge fir tree.
"Am I the only one who thinks this is strange and somewhat creepy?" I mutter.
"Sodding trees," Oghren grumbles, clutching his axe tighter. "I could solve that..."
Out of the corners of my eyes I see something moving, something white, an animal... then the fir tree rustles its branches... and it sounds kinda... angry. It also looks angry... and it shouldn't be rustling anything at all with no wind blowing... and then a branch just... swats at the dwarf... and next roots shoot out of the ground and wrap around Oghren's ankles, pulling his legs from under him. Next the roots drag him towards the fir tree... a huge gap opens beneath the tree as it... stands up... Leliana screams... Zevran grabs the first part of Oghren he can get hold of: the beard... Sten unsheathes his sword... Shale attempts to stomp onto the roots and is pulled off the ground when the branches of a willow wrap around her arms... Wynne prepares a spell...
"The forest deals with intruders as it always has," Morrigan says next to me. She's the only one staying calm, even when the fir tree... swallows Oghren and just slumps down again, closing that hole it created. Her words chill me to the bone. I have heard them before...
"Stop!" I shout at the top of my voice. "Stop! We will leave you alone! We do not mean to harm the forest or any of its inhabitants. Sten, put the sword down! Wynne, stay cool! Shale, stop pulling at those branches!"
Reluctantly the Qunari obeys. The magic crackling around Wynne's hands fades and the golem hangs from the tree like an oversized puppet on strings. None of them look happy.
"We are not here to harm Witherfang. And I'd appreciate if you didn't harm the dwarf and the golem," I add, holding up my hands in a defensive gesture and to show I am unarmed. "We're only looking for our friend. Her name is Rori..."
There's some rustling, like a whisper hushing in the branches... and something, someone answering... it sounds neither like an animal nor like a human... the voice is calm and soothing, soft and yet firm... it's almost like a song... for a heartbeat a huge white wolf appears between the trees and our eyes meet... then it is gone as suddenly as it appeared.
Next Shale is dropped to the ground and Oghren is practically spat out from under the fir tree. The roots retreat into the earth and with a lot of rustling of branches and leaves, the surrounding trees make room for us, forming another path... that leads us directly back to the spot where we started to look for Witherfang's lair.
"From now on... you can call me the tree-whisperer," I smirk at Morrigan.
"Just because for once you didn't bark up the wrong tree, that doesn't make you any less a fool," the witch retorts.
So now we're exactly where we've been before. We know where the lair is but we cannot get through and thus cannot get to Rori. I am beyond frustrated and find myself kicking small stones around like Rori when she's upset. I totally get why she would do so. It's relieving a whole lot of tension. And maybe I should give Oghren's relaxing methods a try later in camp... err... not what you think!... Well... okay, maybe that, too...
The forest keeps leading us in circles for some more time until we are so thoroughly lost that we couldn't find the lair of the werewolves anymore even if we were standing right in the middle of it. At least we do find a werewolf, a single one crouching on the ground and writhing in pain.
"A trap?" Zevran asks next to me, frowning at the creature as it lifts its head at the sound of his voice. We keep our distance and our hands close to our weapons but the beast doesn't attempt to attack us. "Or is it hurt?"
I frown, shaking my head. "A trap doesn't make much sense. The forest could have done that already, couldn't it?"
"P-please...," the werewolf calls out to us. Its voice is a deep growl and choked by its effort not to cry out in agony. It lifts one paw towards us in a gesture so human, it chills me to the bone. "Help... listen... I'm not the mindless beast that I appear to be."
"I know," I say soothingly. I slowly approach, watching my surroundings carefully, though. I have to bite my lips as not to ask the creature at once about Rori. I do not want the werewolves to know how much I care for her. They could use my love against me and then I would be forced to... decide.
"I am cursed, turned into this creature. The curse, it... it burns in me." Whining, the poor beast claws at its own pelt. It is so obviously in pain, I can hardly bare to look at it... I thought the suffering would end once the transformation was completed... Now I learn the torment goes on and on... and Rori has to endure it.
"Hold on, we will help you."
"There is... no help for me..."
"We at least can try. Morrigan, do you still have one of the potions you made for Rori?" I ask. "Those that would ease her pain?"
"Do you really want to waste them on that one?" The witch clearly dislikes the idea but I don't give a damn. This werewolf is willing to talk to us. It could be our only chance to get more information. Shrugging, Morrigan reaches into her backpack and hands a tiny vial to me. "Now, I really want to see how you give this to it."
Oh... err... blast!
That I did not think about.
Now I stand there with a medicine for the poor creature... but as poor and miserable as it is, it still is a huge werewolf that could easily tear me to pieces and I have no intention to get too close to it. I doubt it can open the vial itself with those paws... Finally I have the idea to pour the liquid into Barkley's feeding dish.
"Th-thank you," the werewolf breathes once it has lapped up the potion. "I fled into the forest. The werewolves... they took me in, but I had to return. I had to," the creature whimpers. "You are human. I... I was once an elf, one of the Dalish folk... Do you know my clan?"
"Your keeper, Zathrian, is the one who sent us here," I say carefully.
"The keeper sent you? Then you seek Witherfang."
"What makes you think that?" I ask quickly. The mentioning of Zathrian's name makes this beast think of Witherfang at once... that's odd, isn't it?
"I know why you seek her but... there's no time to explain..."
"But I do need an explanation!"
"You must listen," the werewolf cuts me short, ignoring my plea. "My name is Danyla. My husband, he is called Athras. Please, you must bring him a message. Tell him, I love him, tell him... I am dead and with the gods. I beg you."
"And that's what she wastes her breath and our time on," Morrigan snorts. I glower at her, causing her to cross her arms in front of her chest and stick out her chin defiantly.
"I spoke to Athras. He worries about you." Zevran says softly.
"I want him to be in peace. He is a good man. Please do not... make him suffer, thinking of me."
"I will take your message to him, Danyla," the elf promises as he picks up the scarf she has dropped to bring back to her husband.
Smiling that creepy fully-toothed werewolf smile, Danyla for a very brief moment is at peace. It is shattered again by the agony of the curse that torments her mercilessly. "Ah, the pain. The curse... is fire in my blood. Please, end it for me and end it quickly."
"I need answers first," I cry. "Please, you must help me."
"I... I will tell you what I know... if you promise to end my pain."
Hesitating, I stare at the creature that has once been Danyla. She has already endured so much, too much. She deserves all my sympathy... and my mercy. If not for Rori, this decision would be easier to make. Rori wouldn't want this. Never. She'd rather die fighting the curse. But Danyla is not Rori... and the information she can give me... "I promise."
Danyla's expression, though that of a monstrous beast, is so full of gratitude and relief. "Then know this," she pants with much effort. "The werewolves are no longer violent animals. They have overcome the curse. Like I have."
Okay, we know that already.
"There's a ruin in the centre of the forest. You may find them there. They will think, you mean to kill them."
"But how do we get there? The forest won't let us through. What is the connection of Witherfang and Zathrian? How could the werewolves overcome the curse?"
"I can tell you no more," Danyla cries out as another seizure makes her spasm.
"Oh, shut up!" I snap at Morrigan when her face appears right in front of mine and she wears that expression that says: Told you so, you moron! "Danyla...," I address the werewolf one more time... only to find she's hardly capable of talking anymore.
"The pain! It is... too much... Please... fulfill... your promise," the werewolf wails, her screams becoming more and more animalistic.
Reluctantly, I draw my weapon...
"Alistair! No!"
The sword drops from my hand at the sound of that voice. "Rori!"
She's crouching on top of a boulder with Barkley. With one fluid movement she jumps to the ground, landing next to Danyla - on her side, not on ours. Warily she shifts her weight, all muscles tense beneath the thick soft fur that covers her misshapen body.
"Merciful Andraste!" Leliana gasps. She stumbles backwards at the sight of what Rori has become. I have to admit, her new self is not an improvement... although her red fur is rather pretty.
"Alistair, my dear friend, that rumour that Ferelden men cannot sleep without a dog in their bed..."
"Still not true," I snap.
"Aye, why not?" Oghren grunts. "She's a bit hairy, but I've seen uglier gals."
"Oh, you poor, poor dear!" Wynne cries out. "What has happened to you?"
Rori cocks her huge head to one side, regarding the granny mage as if she was trying to decide whether to bite or just ignore her.
"The first Grey Warden is taller now," Shale observes. "But still a flesh creature."
"The pain... You... you promised!" Danyla wails. She doesn't understand that this is somehow a family reunion. Or she doesn't care. Probably both. I wouldn't if I was her.
"Danyla, pull yourself together! The curse can be broken!" Rori barks, grabbing the other werewolf by her shoulders.
Maker, I am so glad Rori is taking matters into her hands... paws... I don't feel that killing Danyla is right. I'd rather save her, although I know sometimes it is better to put an end to the suffering. But if this curse can be broken... if she only could endure it a little longer... I do want to believe she can be saved, because I need a chance for Rori to survive all this and become human again.
"You don't know that! Zathrian will never... Witherfang won't... Argh! The pain... it... I cannot...!"
"If anybody can find a cure, then it's Rori," I try to calm Danyla down. She doesn't listen anymore, though. Howling madly, the werewolf throws herself at me. I stumble backwards and trip over a rock. While I still fumble around for my sword, Danyla lunges herself at me again... and is thrown aside by another huge body hitting hers.
Growling at each other, fangs bared, Danyla and Rori circle each other. There is nothing human left in them that moment. Danyla makes the first move and soon they are entangled into each other, rolling around on the ground. It's a huge furry ball of arms and legs that snarls and growls, barks and yelps. Rori really tries but it becomes obvious quickly she's not yet used to her new body. Danyla is in a frenzy. The pain drives her mad and she mindlessly beats her smaller and weaker opponent to a pulp.
The rest of us are forced to watch as it is impossible to interfere. The risk of hitting Rori is just too high. Barkley manages to jump on Danyla's back but she shakes him off, smashing him against a rock forcefully. Whimpering, the mabari collapses on the ground. Only when Danyla pushes Rori down, slamming her head onto the rocky ground, Shale grabs the grey werewolf from behind and lifts her off the heavily wounded red one. I dart forward to pull Rori away from the battleground quickly... Boy, is she heavy! Only with Zevran's help can I finally manage while the rest of our companions finish the raging werewolf.
"She was as weak as the rest of her people," Sten comments as he wipes his blade clean on Danyla's fur.
"You seem to have quite the disdainful attitude towards elves, my Qunari friend," Zevran observes.
"Don't take it personally, elf. I have a disdainful attitude towards everyone."
Rori also has a disdainful attitude... towards me. "You promised to kill her!" she breathes as she struggles to get back to her own feet and away from Zevran and me. Her wounds already begin to heal. "Why did you do that?"
"She begged me... she was in pain. She couldn't endure it anymore," I try to explain. "Does it hurt you, too? The curse... do you feel it like Danyla?"
"Why? Do you want to end my suffering like you ended hers?" she snaps.
"That's not... come on, Rori, this is not fair! I would never..." I don't finish that sentence. We both know it could turn out as a blunt lie. What if Zathrian is wrong and the curse cannot be broken? What if he lied to us?
"It was an act of mercy," Leliana says soothingly. "She is now with the Maker..."
"Is that the kind of mercy you plan on showing me, too?" Rori barks with all her teeth bared. She's really upset - and terribly afraid... of us. Crouching low, she backs away from the people she used to call her friends. I can see it in her eyes, how she begins to lose control over her humanity.
"Rori, please, we won't get anywhere if we start to argue with each other. We have to work together, okay?" I kneel down, avoiding eye contact as I keep talking to her. "I also made a promise to you, remember? That I would try anything to break that curse. I intend to keep that promise. But I do need your help, love."
Ducking her head, Rori crawls closer slowly. Werewolves have no tails - but if she had one she'd for sure be tucking it between her legs. I wait until she nudges me carefully and drops her large head in my lap before I touch her and scratch her behind her ears.
"I know you are afraid," I whisper. "I'd be scared out of my mind in your place. And I'd be whining all the time about how terribly I hurt... you're doing really well, love. Now, let's get this done, yes?"
"Yes." Rori lifts her head to lick my face. It's wet and slobbering and... ew... but it's Rori and she's been enduring my smelly socks for ages, so I guess, I can endure some slobber.
"That's my girl!" I pet her head. "So, you've been talking to Witherfang?"
"It's difficult," Rori sighs. "They are paranoid when it comes to the Dalish. Swiftrunner is blinded by his hatred for them, but he also adores Witherfang. And Witherfang wants to protect her werewolves more than anything else. They are like her children. If forced to either face a fight or negotiate for real, I believe, she would rather avoid more bloodshed."
"But we do need the curse to be broken. Peace between the werewolves and the Dalish wouldn't get us there."
"This curse, it's like Danyla said, it burns in all of... us. It's hard to endure..." She inhales deeply and a shudder runs through her. I cannot even imagine how horrible this has to be for her.
"Oh, Rori..."
She shakes her head to stop me from expressing any sympathy. "Anyway," she says firmly, visibly pulling herself together. "Nobody likes to be a werewolf. If there's a way to end the curse, the werewolves are the first to help us."
"So, what should we do?"
"If you found a way into their lair, they couldn't hide anymore. They would be forced to make a decision," Rori muses.
"The forest leads us astray. It really doesn't like us," I point out.
"Witherfang is... part of the forest. I cannot say why or how, but the forest protects her," Rori explains. "If you want to get to the lair, the forest mustn't see you as intruders."
"How should we do that? Dress up as sodding trees?" Oghren grunts.
"Maybe the tree-whisperer can talk us through," Morrigan sneers.
"Maybe I can." I smirk at the witch. She just gave me an idea. I had totally forgotten about the old oak and its acorn until now. "I already know exactly which tree I have to talk to. We need something to bargain first, though."
"Please hurry," Rori says. She sounds exhausted. "I have to return now. Swiftrunner grows impatient and Witherfang with him. The suffering of her pack is more than she is willing to endure much longer."
I kneel down to pet Barkley. "You take good care of her, lad. I count on you." Then I hug my girl goodbye. My arms hardly reach around her chest. She's one head taller than I am and weighs twice as much as I do. Her teeth are razor-sharp, she's hairy from head to toe and she slobbers quite a lot. She's still my woman. She will always be.
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@discord_the_lunatic: Okay, flog me! ;)
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In good times and in bad