
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9445319.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Dragon_Age:_Origins, Dragon_Age_-_All_Media_Types, Dragon_Age:_Origins_-
      Awakening
  Relationship:
      Zevran_Arainai/Male_Warden, Zevran_Arainai/Male_Tabris
  Character:
      Original_Grey_Warden_Character(s), Zevran_Arainai, Alistair_(Dragon_Age),
      Morrigan_(Dragon_Age), Sten_(Dragon_Age), Leliana_(Dragon_Age), Mabari_
      (Dragon_Age), Oghren, Cyrion_Tabris, Adaia_Tabris, Shianni, Vaughn,
      Sandal, Tegan, Dragon_Age_-_All_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Warden_Tabris_-_Freeform, Original
      Warden_-_Freeform, I'm_Bad_At_Tagging, I'm_Bad_At_Summaries, I'm_Bad_At
      Titles, Zevran_being_Zevran, Kinky_Warden, Kinky_Zevran, Eventual_Smut,
      Feels, Angst, I_Made_Myself_Cry, Depressed_Warden, Sexy_Zevran, Drunk
      Alistair_(Dragon_Age), Adorable_Alistair, Alistair_(Dragon_Age)_is_a_Good
      Friend, Childhood_Friends, Childhood_Sexual_Abuse, Childhood_Sweethearts,
      Childhood_Memories, Childhood_Trauma, Self-Hatred, Suicidal_Thoughts,
      Blood_and_Gore, Gratuitous_Smut, angry_warden, I_Wrote_This_Instead_of
      Sleeping, Anger, Mental_Health_Issues, Mental_Breakdown, Grey_Wardens,
      Raven_Tabris, Sense8_references, I_Tried, snuggle_pile, you_know_what_-
      Freeform, Fuck_the_Canon, so_many_queer_themes, The_feels_are_nesscary,
      The_Author_Regrets_Nothing, The_Author_Regrets_Everything, Forgive_Me,
      Canon_Related, Canon_Divergence, Help, Original_Character(s), It's_Not
      Paranoia_If_They're_Really_Out_To_Get_You, Nightmares, a_shit_ton_of
      nightmares, PTSD, Depression, he's_got_problems_guys, Probs_some_anxiety,
      also_is_this_slowburn?, It_feels_pretty_slowburn, slowburn, I_promise_I
      get_better_in_newer_chapters
  Series:
      Part 1 of Fucked_up_people_can_be_heroes_too
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-24 Updated: 2017-12-17 Chapters: 8/? Words: 40613
****** The Story Of A Raven ******
by Creep_ily_pyro, Fanboy, glassesandattitude
Summary
     "I spent my whole life thinking, 'This is it, this is the year I
     die.'
     Oddly enough, this is the first year I actually want to survive."
     This is the story of Raven Tabris, a young adult who lost the light
     in his eyes a long time ago. He's never had a purpose, his life is a
     mess and so is his head,
     This is a story filled with love, hatred, violence, kindness, blood
     and Antivan Leather.
     This is the story of how the Fifth Blight was ended before it truly
     begin.
     (I'm bad at summaries, please just give it a chance <3)
     (Warnings in place for heavily implied rape. Don't worry, I don't get
     graphic with it <3)
Notes
     I know. I need to stop. I'm making too many stories and not finishing
     them. Raise a glass to my unfinished fics, y'all. I'll work on them
     soon!
     I hope.
     Anyway.
     Big shout out to glassesandattitude and Creep_ily_pyro for reviewing/
     editing up this story.
     This first chapter is formatted differently from the rest, it's
     basically just Raven's own unique background.
     In other words, I took what was already a heartbreaking origin story
     and made it even worse. Its heavy on the angst. Again, warnings for
     allusions to rape/noncon. Which comes with the territory with this
     Origin I suppose. Please enjoy my own unique take on the Origins
     story. Raven is a very lovable character and I hope you enjoy coming
     along in his story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
     Warnings: Implied rape, implied pedophilia, suicidal tendencies,
     thoughts of self harm. Stay safe, kiddos.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Raven Tabris: The beginning *****
Five years old; 9:09 Dragon
Red hair flies in the wind as he runs after Soris and Shianni. He laughs,
stumbling over his feet as he runs. Big blue eyes are bright and innocent,
untouched and unaffected by the hardships of the life he lives. He grabs
Shianni’s hand, tackling his older cousin to the ground with a laugh. Shianni
squeals and wrestles with him.
“Raven!” She squeaks. “You’re cheating!”
“No I’m not!” Raven protests, laughing breathlessly. His laughter is cut off
when Soris, only a year younger then him, leaps up and lands on them both.
Raven grunts then starts laughing again, squirming underneath his cousin.
For now, all is right with the world.
The wrestling, hyper children are mostly ignored by the people of the alienage;
the smell of unwashed cloth, wet dog, and food cooking spins through all of the
alienage. Cats are meowing, dogs are barking, and rats scramble this way and
that. The wooden structures are either weak or already falling apart, and
everyone is wearing if not rags then something close to it.
Raven’s mother, Adaia steps outside of the home, a soft smile on her lips.
Raven immediately wiggles from underneath his cousin and runs up to his mother,
leaping into her arms, with a shout of, “Mama!” Adaia laughs, wrapping her arms
around her son and smooching his temple. This only makes Raven giggle and
squirm.
 Soris and Shianni stand up, pouting and brushing themselves off. “Sorry loves,
this little one has to get some food in his belly before we’re accused of
starving him,” Adaia says to her niece and nephew, squeezing Raven’s nose. “And
that means you too, Shianni.” She grins at her niece, who smiles back and runs
up, hugging her aunt's legs. Adaia strokes her hair reassuringly.
Shianni’s mama died when Raven was three. He doesn’t really know what dying
means, just that Mama says that it means people go someplace and don’t come
back. They don’t know Shianni’s papa, though Shi never stops talking about him,
telling Raven all sorts of stories about his adventures as a dalish. However,
since her father wasn’t here, Shianni lived with them. Raven didn’t mind- He
liked having a constant playmate. Shianni and Soris were his favorite cousins,
anyway, so any time he got to spend with them was good time.
“Soris, you should go home and see if your parents are ready to serve dinner
too, sweetheart,” Adaia says, smiling.
“Okay!” Soris says cheerfully, running off. Adaia chuckles, opening the door
and letting Shianni in first while carrying in Raven. Raven wraps his arms
around his mother’s neck and hides his face there, taking deep breaths as he
smiles to himself. Adaia sets Raven down, and simultaneously he and Shianni
race each other to the bedroom to grab their mabari plushies.
The plushies are worn down and old, even though they’ve only had them a year.
Between the fact that Shianni and Raven used them constantly and that they were
used and old, a bargain deal, in the first place, the plushies looked on their
last legs. That didn’t seem to matter to the two, however. “I got Cyri first!”
Raven says, hugging his plush to his chest.
“Nu-uh!” Shianni argues. “I got Daya first!”
“Nu-uh!” Raven sticks out his bottom lip.
“Yuh-huh!”
“Children,” Cyrion, Raven’s father, warns, causing them both to look up. “Come
now. It’s time to eat.”
 
Seven years old; 9:11 Dragon
“En garde!” Raven says, both hands wrapped tightly around the worn, wooden play
sword as he dances around in the front yard, blocking his cousins attacks with
her two smaller wooden swords.
“Weak!” Shianni taunts, pressing hard on his sword. Raven furrows his eyebrows.
Shianni won every other play fight before this and Raven was determined to win
this time. He was sick of Shianni giving him smug looks.
“Sure,” he says, and then manages to weave his blade from under Shianni’s and
whack it (gently, or Mama would be upset) against his cousin's side. “I win!”
He shouts, grinning triumphantly.
“Good job!” Adaia praises, walking over and smooching Raven’s head. Raven
giggles happily, pride leaking through his bones. “I knew you had it in you.”
She turns to Shianni. “You did a wonderful job as well, Shianni. Here, let me
give you a  few pointers…”
Raven didn’t stay to hear the rest. He runs inside, carrying the sword happily.
“Papa, Papa!” He says, running up to his father. “I won! I won, I won, I won!”
He giggles, pride practically radiating off of him.
Cyrion turns from where he was tending the fire, cooking them soup. “Did you
now?” He asks softly. “Good job, son.” Cyrion was quiet and gentle, much
different from Adaia. Raven always kinda felt like he was something of a
disappointment to his papa, or something was wrong with how he was, because of
the always-there worried crease in his papa’s brow.
Raven smiles, though it dims at the traces of concern in Cyrion’s eyes and
expression. “Is something wrong, papa?” He asks.
“No, no,” Cyrion murmurs, reaching over and pulling Raven into a hug. “Nothing
at all.”
 
Ten years old; 9:14 Dragon
Raven stares. He’s never seen a human before. More than that, he’s never seen
anyone with such fancy and nice clothes, or whose hair is done so nicely. He
runs out from beneath his Mama’s legs and runs up to the human noble standing
in the alienage, talking to the elder. Papa’s cry of worry follows him, but he
ignores it. “Hey, hey!” He says, tugging on the man’s robes. “How do you keep
your clothes so nice, mister?!” He asks, big blue eyes bright and a giant smile
on his face.
“Raven!” The Elder scolds, reaching down to pull him away.
“No, no, it's quite alright,” the human assures, waving The Elder off. He
kneels so he’s at Raven’s height. Raven studies him with bright eyes, still
giving a toothy smile. The man has dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes.
His smile is kind and welcoming and makes Raven want to talk to him more.
Raven’s ears twitch on his head. “I’m Cafias. And you young man?”
“Raven Tabris the First!” Raven announces, grinning wider.
Caffias chuckles, patting his shoulder. “You seem like a very bright young man.
What do you say to getting a job? Nothing too serious, just helping me out here
and there, and I can pay you and your family quite well.”
Raven’s eyes lit up. If they had more money, maybe Papa wouldn’t be so worried
all the time. “I’d like that a lot mister!”
“Serah, he’s quite young and excitable. I’m not sure he’s ready for…” the Elder
protests, a concerned frown on his face. Raven glares.
Caffias waves off his concerns. “Like I said, most of it will probably be very
fun for him. Feeding the horses, things like that,” he says. The Elder still
frowns, but nods. “Have you ever seen a horse, Raven?”
Raven’s eyes get big. “Yeah! I saw one when me and Papa went to the Market
once! Their so big!” He gushes. “I ain’t never seen anything like it before!”
Caffias chuckles. The Elder sighs. “Raven, why don’t you take Cafias to see
your parents, see what they think of this?” He asks.
Raven nods, grabbing Cafias’ hand as Cafias stands up. He drags Cafias down the
dirt road, grinning excitedly. “Mama! Papa!” He says, walking over. His family
shifts, Adaia being the first to step forward. Shianni, meanwhile, hides behind
Cyrion.
“Raven,” his Mama says softly, reaching over for her son. Raven lets go and
runs into her arms. Caffias bows respectfully.
“Hello, serah,” he bows, smiling another one of his charming smiles.
“Sir.” Adaia bows her head respectfully. “I’m sorry for my son. He’s very
friendly and curious,” she says, holding Raven close.
“Mama he likes me!” Raven says.
“Shush, little one,” his Mama murmurs to him, running her hand through Raven’s
hair. Raven pouts and obeys.
Cafias smiles. “Its no trouble at all, Serah. In fact, I have a proposition for
you! I came to the Alienage looking for a bright child like your son. I
sympathize deeply with the troubles that face your people here, and want to
help make a difference. There’s only so much I can do, I am only a distant
cousin of the Arl, but I still want to help any way I can.” He smiles at Raven.
“What would you say if I offered your son a job.” He lifts his hands. “Nothing
too serious, I promise. I won’t wear the poor boy out. Just little fun things!
Like feeding the horses and such, and it pays rather well. We have a full-time
servant, but she is getting rather worn down, and she needs a little help, but
father would rather not hire another full-time one.” He lowers his voice and
winks. “He’s rather stingy.” He smiles.
Raven squirms with excitement, looking back at his father. To his
disappointment, Cyrions face is lined with worry and there's a deep frown on
his face. “Adaia,” Cyrion says softly. “May we speak a moment?”
“Certainly.” Adaia smiles at Cafias. “Thank you for your generous offer- If you
don’t mind, I’ll confer with my husband for a few moments and get back to you.
Children, why don’t you get to know him?” Raven’s Mama and Papa slipped inside,
and Shianni immediately ran from the cover of Cyrion’s legs to the cover of
hiding behind Raven, who is (at last) taller than her.
“Oh, it's quite alright darling.” Caffias kneels like he did in the square.
“I’m not going to hurt you at all.” He smiles. “I’m friendly!”
Shianni doesn’t respond. Raven turns his head. “Come on Shianni, stop being so
shy. If he was an elf you’d be bouncing all over the place,” Raven says, trying
to take on his mother’s scolding tone.
“Yeah, but he’s not an elf, is he?” Shianni says in a hushed whisper.
“So what? He’s just taller and has round ears.” Raven huffs and drags Shianni
out from behind him. “This is my Cousin, Shianni,” he says, smiling.
“Wonderful to meet you Shianni,” Caffias says.
Shianni looks at him up and down, then sighs. “Hi,” she mumbles, plopping on
the ground and folding her arms. Raven rolls his eyes and looks at Cafias.
“She’s being stubborn,” he says in a half whisper.
“I am not!” Shianni snaps.
“Shush.” Raven pouts at her. She pouts back.
Cafias chuckles. “That’s quite a big word, young man.”
“Yeah! Mama teaches us all sorts of cool stuff and she gets as many books as
she can. I love saying big words ‘cuz it makes me look really smart and stuff!”
Raven says, his ears fluttering with excitement.
Caffias grins and pats his shoulder. “It does indeed.”
It was at that moment that Cyrion and Adaia slip back out. Cyrion remains at
the doorway, frowning deeply, and picks up Shiani when she goes running into
his arms. Adaia approaches Cafias and Raven again, and Cafias stands up. “We
would be honored to accept your gracious offer, serah.” She says, giving a
little bow.
Raven lights up. “Yay!” He shouts, jumping up and down. Both Adaia and Cafias
laugh at his excitement.
“Would you two be good with him starting today?” Caffias asks, tilting his head
to the side. It reminds Raven of a dog.
“Raven?” Adaia asks.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Raven says, bouncing up and down again.
Both chuckle. “Okay.” Adaia says, nodding to Caffias.
Caffias smiles and offers Raven a hand, which he cheerfully accepts. Raven
waves to his family as he skips behind Cafias, eager to start his new job.
 
Eleven years old; 9:15 Dragon
Raven sighs, as high up in the tree in the center of the alienage as he could
climb, Cyri hugged tightly to his chest. He pushes his face in the plush’s faux
fur, breathing hard as tears sting his eyes. He looks out at the slowly rising
sun and feels his heart sink.
“Now remember Raven, this is our secret, right?”
“Okay…”
“If you don’t keep it a secret, people are going to get hurt. People like your
Mama and Papa and Cousin. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No!”
“Then you're going to be a good boy, right?”
“Yeah.”
Raven remembers Cafias’ words and frowns, pressing himself against the tree. He
felt dirty. He hasn’t stopped feeling dirty since the day Cafias started…
Whatever this is.
He reaches behind him and touches his back, wincing at the feeling of the whip
marks there. He chews hard on his bottom lip, taking a deep breath and
shifting. His bottom still hurts too. He closes his eyes and bangs his head
against the tree branch, then winces again as that hurts. He doesn’t talk as
much as he used to. Mama is constantly worried about him but not even her hugs
can make him feel better anymore. He’s starting that anything can.
“Raven?” Soris’ familiar voice causes him to open his eyes. “What are you doing
way up there?”
Raven shrugs. “Nothing,” he calls, softly.
“Well get down, before you hurt yourself!” Soris scolds, worry in his tone.
Raven heaves a sigh and slowly climbs down, bare feet scraping on the rough
bark of the trunk. He leaps down the last few feet and stumbles to a stop,
still holding Cyri tightly under one arm.
Soris reaches over and starts brushing the bark and leaves out of Raven’s hair
and clothes, huffing. “Soris,” Raven says, sighing. Soris continues. “Soris!”
He ducks out of reach, fixing his hair himself. He’s let it grow out these past
few months, the hair now a couple inches down his neck.
“Sorry, Cousin. Are you alright?” Soris asks. “You look like you’ve been
crying!” He exclaims.
“I have not been crying.” Raven groans, continuing to fix his hair. “Its
windy.” He grumbles in explanation.
Soris gives him a sceptical look. “Why aren’t you more excited, it's your
birthday!”
“I am excited,” Raven huffs at his cousin. “See?” He gives a huge grin before
letting it drop again.
Soris rolls his eyes. “You’ve gotten so grumpy,” he grumbles, then pulls out a
small box. “Me and Papa got you this.”
“Aw.” Raven smiles for real this time. “Thanks, Soris,” he says, taking the box
and unwrapping it slowly. A small charm in the shape of elfroot sits inside,
and Raven grins. “Aw, this is so cute!”
“It’s like a good luck charm,” Soris replies, smiling back.
Raven reaches over and hugs his cousin. “Thanks, Soris. And tell your Papa
thanks too.”
“I will. Come on.” Soris slings an arm around his shoulder and walks with him
back to his house.
 
Thirteen years old; 9:17 Dragon
He didn’t know.
Maker, he didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, Mama.” He whispers, looking at the body on the boat, hidden from
sight by a cloth. Another sob bubbles from his throat and he turns to his
Papa’s side, burying his face in his shirt and crying, shoulders shaking as he
cries, clenching the fabric of Cyrion’s tunic. Cyrion, too, is crying, Raven
can feel his body shivering with the silent sobs. His father’s hand weaves
through his hair and he sobs again, feeling the guilt twist tighter in his
stomach, tighter and tighter until it felt like he doesn’t even have one
anymore. All around him were tears and sobbing and people wishing his mother
farewell and he can barely handle it, sobbing even harder. Shianni is at his
side, hand in his, and he squeezes tightly, shaking.
This is all his fault.
It’s all his fault.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to do this anymore, Caffias. It makes me feel sick and I hate it.
You keep saying how special I am but. Can we please just stop? Please? I
promise I won’t tell anyone about it. I just want to stop, okay?”
“Raven, what did I tell you?”
“That I’m a very special young man. But this doesn’t make me feel special,
Cafias, it makes me feel dirty!”
“That’s enough!”
Raven can still hear the sound of Cafias’ hand against his cheek.
“I’ll give you a choice, little bird. Either we continue, or I punish you, and
you’re free.”
“P-Punish?”
“Yes.”
“...But only once?”
“Only once.”
“Okay.”
The beating that Caffias had given him then was nearly too much for Raven to
handle and he nearly went back on his word. Even now, his entire body is still
throbbing with pain, a week later.
He thought that was it.
He really thought that that was going to be it.
But when Cafias...finished with him, he was dropped off at the Alienage. He
told his parents that Raven’s work was done and gave them a small bag of
sovereigns.
Then two days later, his mother went out to get them food,
And was found stabbed to death in the middle of the town square.
This is all his fault.
“Mama,” he whimpers, closing his eyes and sobbing. “Mama…”
 
Sixteen years old; 9:20 Dragon
Long red hair pulled into a braid sways as blue eyes stare at a fence as if it
murdered his family. His wooden sword swings and slams into the wood over and
over as he practices movements and strategies that his late mother taught him.
Breath in. His mind goes blank as his body moves without him even needing to
tell it to do so. Breathe out, and dodge the attack. The sword protects you--it
keeps you alive. Rely on it.
He breathes hard and slams the sword against the wood again, until his father’s
voice cuts through his haze of thoughts. “Raven,” he says. Raven looks up,
letting go of his sword.
“Yes father?” Raven asks, running a hand through his now messy hair.
“Would you like to come inside for dinner?” Cyrion asks.
“Yeah. That’d be nice.”
Things were still awkward and tense between the two. Cyrion had tried to take
over in role as mother and father, but it was hard to reach out to the son that
was so very close to his mother. Raven himself shut down, angry at himself,
angry at the world, and more than anything, just. Sad.
He starts to follow his father, picking up the sword, when he spots a figure in
the shadows near his house. Lito’s face pokes out and he gives Raven a wicked
grin, gesturing him over.
But Lito.
Lito made it better.
“Be right there, Papa,” Raven says. Cyrion simply nods and walks inside.
Raven drops the sword again and runs over to Lito, immediately wrapping both
arms around the boy. Lito laughs, arms wrapping around him in return. “Hello,
Ven,” Lito greets, falling to the ground from Raven’s force. The two laugh,
Raven lifting his head and looking down at the dark-skinned, brown eyed boy.
“It’s been too long.” Raven replies, smiling.
Lito was the son of a elven merchant, a rather profitable one. One that came
from this very alienage. He always dropped by and visited every year, but it
was last year that Lito and Raven became close. Very close.
Lito was the one who helped him realize why he never wanted to kiss girls.
Kissing boys felt so much better.
“It has,” Lito agrees, reaching up and threading his fingers through Raven’s
hair. “Jeez, Ven, do you ever cut this?”
“Nope.” Raven gives a grin, chuckling and leaning down, pressing his lips to
the other. Lito giggles into the kiss, Raven giggling back. Lito flips them
over, making Raven laugh.
The wounds that Cafias had left didn’t have as much of a sting as they used
too, though the scars remain. He still blames himself for his mother's death,
but Lito helped him feel so much better. So happy. Lito had no idea about
Cafias or any of that, and Raven didn’t plan on telling him.
Or anyone, for that matter.
No one else was dying because of him.
No one knew about him and Lito either, not even Shianni. Raven had no idea how
his father would react, and frankly, didn’t want to be any more of a
disappointment then he already is. Lito on the other hand, knew that his father
and mother would react badly, and didn’t want to be forbidden from coming back
to the alienage.
“Missed you.” Raven whispers up at Lito, smiling.
“Missed you too. See you tonight? Usual spot?” He asks.
“Definitely,” Raven says, leaning up for another kiss. Lito obliges, pressing
their lips together with a grin.
 
17 years old; 9:21 Dragon
“What do you  mean  you're not coming back?!” Raven demands, standing up
suddenly, eyes widening as he feels his heart twist in his chest. “You always
come back!”
Lito looks at him with sad eyes before looking away again. Raven feels like
he’s been stabbed. The night around them is dark, soft birds chirping in the
air as they sit on the bare outskirts of Denerim. “Dad wants to stay in
Highever next time we go. Mom agreed.”
“B-But!” Raven sputters. “T-This is what you wanted to tell me?!” He feels like
he’s drowning, hands clenching as he shoves them under his arms, hugging
himself. “You can’t leave, Lito!”
“I’m sorry, Ven,” Lito says weakly. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Will you come back?!” Raven says.
Lito shakes his head. “Mama’s ill. I gotta help take care of her while Papa’s
working.”
Raven sank back to the ground, tears stinging his eyes. He doesn’t say
anything, just hugs himself closer. “Lito…” he mutters.
“I’m so sorry,” Lito murmurs sadly, moving forward and cupping Raven’s cheeks,
kissing him. “I’m so sorry.”
Raven tries not to cry and pulls away. This is so unfair. This is so  fucking
unfair! “You can’t just leave me!” He cries. “You promised, Lito!”
“I know, I know! I didn’t know!” Lito cries, eyes reflecting his hurt.
Raven’s too upset to realize how selfish he’s being when he walks away,
climbing the walls of denerim by himself and hiding in his room, crying
silently.
It’s not until the morning that he realizes his mistake.
He shoots up and runs out of the house, racing to the gate, just in time to see
Lito walk out the gate behind his father and mother.
“Lito!” He calls, all sense leaving him and replaced by desperation. Lito turns
his head. He stares at Lito, swallowing hard and mouthing, ‘I’m sorry.’
Lito smiles sadly. ‘Me too,’ he mouths back before following his parents once
more.
Raven slumps to the ground, feeling sick. He rolls over and starts to empty the
contents of his stomach, tears racing down his cheeks. It’s Soris that sees him
first and races to his side, asking if he’s alright.
He nods.
 
22 years old; 9:26 Dragon
“Raven!” Shianni’s excited voice interrupts his  very  nice dream. It involved
a handsome blonde man and cake. Really  good  cake.
Raven grunts and rolls over, pulling his blanket over his head and tightening
his arm around his plush. It reminded him of his mom, so he still slept with
it, despite himself. “Go away,” he grumbles.
“Hell no!” She says, grabbing his leg and yanking him out of the bed. Raven
squawks as he lands on the ground, throwing a pillow at her head.
“Shianni!” He yells.
“Its First Day you dummy!” She says, grabbing his shirt and shaking him. “You
know what that means!”
“A bunch of drunk people screaming into all hours of the night?” Raven asks,
rubbing his head.
“Honestly, you have no sense of occasion Raven. That’s not what it means, it
means a party! Get up and put on some proper clothes you fool! There’s going to
be dancing and singing and good food and everyone is going to be there and,
gosh, it’s gonna be so much fun!” Shianni gushes, already dressed in a pretty
plain-colored dress. Raven groans and walks to the closet, pulling out his best
tunic, besides his Winterday one. He slips on the green material, getting
dressed slowly. “Come on, you slowpoke!”
“Shianni, if you’re going to rudely awaken me in such a manner, you’d better at
least have food,” Raven replies dryly.
Shianni laughs and leaves the room, while Raven continues getting dressed.
It’s going to be a very, very long day.
 
25 years old; 9:29 dragon
When Raven shoots up out of bed, he’s barely breathing. The images of Lito
screaming in agony, of Cafias, of Mama’s bloody body and Papa’s disappointed
looks, of Shianni’s barely breathing body and of Soris’ hanged neck, of the
Alienage running red with blood and a dragon ravaging the sky still race
through his mind.
Half of those things haven’t even happened.
That didn’t stop him from shoving the covers off and tiptoeing out of the
house, locking the door behind him before racing to the walls of the alienage,
his heart pounding out of his chest. Everything feels suffocating, he could
barely breathe, the walls feel like they are closing in on him and he fucking
needed out. He scrambles up the walls, following the same paths he and Lito
took as he falls over onto the other side, scraping his knees. He barely pays
attention, feeling like a frightened child as he scrambles up the outermost
walls of Denerim and falls over those too, standing up and running into the
nearby woods, where he leans on a tree, panting.
His respite doesn’t last long, as he bends over and starts emptying the
contents of his stomach, chest heaving. The images won’t fucking leave, he can
feel Cafias’ hands on his skin and the whip on his back; he can hear Lito
screaming and the sound of Soris gurgling out his last breaths of life. He can
see his mother on the ground, bloody and dead, and Shianni next to her, in a
similar state. He can fucking  smell  the blood that had run through the
alienage, all of the dead bodies and screaming children and he heaves again,
even though his stomach is already empty. Tears race down his cheeks and he
moves further into the woods, not caring how much noise he makes, not caring
about the creatures that lived here, not caring about fucking anything. He
barely registers the knife in his hand, the knife that he slept with underneath
his pillow.
He looks up at the sky and then scowls.
“Are you even fucking here?”  He thinks, directing it at the Maker, at
Andraste, at everything and everyone. “Do you even fucking  care ?!” He shouts
out loud this time, before crying again, slumping against the tree.
He finally realizes the knife, and looks down, then at his wrists. Mother
showed him once how to cut a throat or a pair of wrists. He twists the knife
and directs it at his skin, right on the vein thrumming beneath it. He breathes
hard, staring at it, the knife quavering in his hand.
He closes his eyes, takes the knife away, and sucks in a deep, shaky breath,
slowly walking back toward Denerim and the Alienage.
 
26 years old, 9:30 Dragon
Raven watches as he shoves another bite of soup into his mouth the way that
Shianni and his father exchange a look. Shianni stands, holding her bowl.
“Well, i’m done. I’m gonna go hang with Denise.” She walks to the kitchen,
washes out her bowl, and leaves. Raven watches her go, eyebrow arched as he
slowly slips another bite of soup into his mouth.
“Raven,” His father says, and Raven’s blue eyes dart to meet his father’s. “We
need to talk.”
Raven freezes. Did he find out about Lito? Or worse, Cafias? Or...Oh god, did
he realize that Adaia’s death was his fault?! He swallows the bite of soup in a
harsh gulp and sets down his spoon. “Yeah?”
“Son, it’s time we talked about marriage,” his father says slowly. “Past time,
really.”
Oh, is that all? That’s fine then- wait. Marriage?! The word sinks in and Raven
starts to choke. “Wh-what!?  Marriage?! ”  He demands, trying to catch his
breath. “Marriage?!” He barks  again, eyes wide. “Bu-but--You must be joking!
I’m in no way ready for--for--for...For Makerdamned  Marriage! ”
“Raven, I didn’t think I was ready either when I married Adaia. You know how
this works, the Elder is already sending word to other Alienages. For Soris,
too,” he says, and Raven chokes again.
“Soris--?! Father, have you lost your mind!?” He asks, breathing hard. “I can’t
get married- I don’t  want  to get married!” He cries, eyes wide.
“But you must get married,” his father presses, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re
nearly in your thirties, Raven, it’s about time you get to work and start
building a life. You should think about children, too--”
“Children!?” Raven leaps to his feet and shoves the chair away, starting to
pace. He runs his hands through his hair, clenching and yanking at the strands.
“I don’t want to fucking settle down and have children, Papa! I don’t--” He
breathes in sharply. “I don’t want to be with a girl at all! The very thought
is terrifying! And I  do  work--”
“Stealing from nobles and fencing the money is not work,” his father
interrupts.
Raven’s mouth snaps shut. “How did you--”
“Shianni told me. Did you really expect me to believe you got that money from
just ‘jobs around town’?” His father asks, and there’s that disappointed look
again.
Raven whirls and leans on the wall, breathing hard. “Damnit, Shianni.” He turns
again, looking around. “Father, I--”
“The Elder has already found a suitable match in Redcliffe for both you and
Soris. We’ll have things arranged in a few months.” He stands and walks away,
leaving Raven in the room panicking.
“Damnit!” He shouts.
***** 'Till Death Do Us Part *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     Raven's wedding takes an unexpected turn, leading to something he
     would never have imagined.
Chapter Notes
     Oh look the feels just contunie
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Wake up cousin. Why are you still in bed? It’s your big day!” Shianni’s voice
cuts through another one of those pleasant dreams of the unnamed blonde man. He
has those a lot lately.  Raven opens one eye and rolls right over, dragging the
covers over his body. “Raven.” Shianni says, yanking the covers off.
“Must I?” He asks with a sigh, looking up at the top bunk as he slowly sits up
   
“Yes,” she growls, giving him a stern look. “You  do  remember what today is,
don’t you?”
     “Someone’s wedding?” He asks sleepily, blinking as he looks at his Cousin.
     “A  double  wedding! Yours and Soris’!” Shianni announces excitedly. That
wakes Raven right up, and he shoots the rest of the way up. “That’s what I came
to tell you; your bride, Nesiara, she’s here early!” Raven feels his heart stop
and his world tunnels around him. He swallows hard. He doesn’t want this.
     “Great. So I guess I really don’t have a choice. I’m sure the elder
brought her here as fast as possible to avoid me running off,” Raven snaps, his
voice thick with bitterness as he walks past Shianni to find the wedding
clothes she picked out.
     “Raven, why are you so upset about this? Weddings are exciting, and fun!”
Shianni whines, turning to Raven and folding her arms. “It’s not the end of the
world.”
     “For  you , it’s not.” His vision is blurred as he turns to Shianni. “I
don’t  want  to marry a woman, Shianni.”
     “What?” She says, her eyebrows furrowing .
     “I want to be with a man!” Raven snaps in a hushed whisper, aware of his
father in the next room as he changes. “I’ve never told him and now it’s too
fucking late to turn back!” He whirls, fully dressed now, and walks out of the
room, trying to keep calm as he leaves behind the shocked Shianni.
     He finds his father in the very next room, staring at the fire. “Papa,” he
greets.
     “Morning, my son!” He turns to smile at Raven and Raven feels his chest
tighten. “It’s your big day! Oh, how I wish your mother could have been here.”
     ‘Please don’t bring her up.’  The instant feeling of guilt and pain that
hit his chest made him nearly stumble, but he kept his ground and hopefully
kept his expression clear. “Me too.” Raven mutters under his breath, rubbing
his shoulder. “What do you need me to do, Papa?”
     “Just a moment, son.” Cyrion reaches over and squeezes Raven’s shoulder.
“I have a gift for you. Your mother would have wanted you to have it.”
     ‘Please don’t talk about her!’  Tears stung his eyes as Cyrion presses a
small necklace into Raven’s hand. It looks old, but beautiful, with a small,
blue gem on the end and chain links holding it all together. “Was this Mama’s?”
He asks softly, looking at it with wide eyes as he fingers the gem gently.
     “It was. It was passed down from her mother’s mother, to her mother, and
to her,” Cyrion says. “It was always her will for you to have it when you were
ready to leave.” Raven feels those tears prick again and he blinks hard.
     “Th...Thank you, Papa,” Raven murmurs, slipping the necklace over his head
and touching it. It feels right somehow. Soothing. Like a little bit of his
mom’s presence hangs around his neck. Cyrion pulls him into a tight hug, which
Raven returns.
     “You know I will always be proud of you, Raven,” Cyrion whispers.
     “I know Papa,” Raven mutters, letting go.
     “Well, it’s time for you to go find Soris. Oh, wait,” Cyrion says. “One
last thing. The knife-play, swords, those things your mother trained you in?
Best not to mention it to your betrothed.”
     Raven nods. “I figured as much.”
     “We don’t want to seem like troublemakers after all! Adaia...Adaia made
that mistake.” Cyrion trails off.
     Raven feels like he’s been punched in the gut.  ‘No. She didn’t make the
mistake. I did.’  Raven frowns. “The humans that killed her made a bigger one,”
he growls.
     “Raven,” Cyrion scolds softly, then pats his shoulder. “Run off now, you.
And enjoy your day.”
     Raven gave a tight lipped smile as he walked out the door.
***
     “Let go of me! Stop! Please!” Raven hadn’t noticed the human until he had
grabbed Denice’s arms, and he immediately reached for a knife that wasn’t
there. Damn this fucking wedding!
     “Hey!” He snaps, Soris grabbing his arm to keep him from running up and
punching the noble human in the face. Denice wiggled free and ran off, pressing
herself against the tree while she stared with wide eyes.
     “It’s a party, isn’t it?” The man purrs. “Grab a whore, and have a good
time!” He lets out a cruel sort of laughter that sent every alarm going off in
Raven’s head. “Savor the-” He starts to speak again, but Raven yanks his hand
out of Soris’ grip and marches right up, shoving the bastard backwards into his
damned noble friends. Just like Cafias, only more open about his damned
intentions.
     “Fuck off!” Raven growls, his eyes burning. “You don’t get to push us
around just because you’re human,  scum!  Leave them alone!” He snarls, rage
burning deep in his stomach.
     The man sputters, his friends gasping and snapping. “He’s the son of the
Arl, what do you think you’re doing you damned knife-ear?!” They demand.
     Raven whirls on them. “You think that matters to  me?”  He growls, every
instinct telling him to get a weapon and slit these bastards throats. “Leave
these women alone, you sick bastard!”
     “Silence, worm!” The first bastard slams his hand against Raven’s cheek.
However, this just serves to piss Raven off more.
     “Oh, you fucking piece of-” Raven starts, but is dragged back by Soris.
     “What do you think you're doing?!” Soris hisses under his breath. “You're
going to get us all in trouble, you madman!”
     Raven growls, “I’m not gonna sit around while this bastard tries to rape
our women, Soris!” Raven snarls. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Shianni
grab an ale bottle and walk up behind the creep, slamming it against his head
and knocking him out. Raven grins. “That’s my girl.” He murmurs. Soris buries
his face in his hands.
     The creep falls to the ground with a groan, head bleeding. “Are you
insane?!” One of his friends demands, running up to him. “This is Vaughn Urien,
the Arl of Denerim’s son!”
     “ What ?! Oh, Maker…” Shianni whispers, covering her mouth and widening
her eyes.
     “Maybe his father should have taught him better manners,” Raven snorts,
too pissed to be worried.
     “You’ve a lot of nerve, knife-ear,” the other one growls. “This will go
badly for you.” The two pick up Vaughn and leave, glaring the whole way. Raven
rolls his eyes.
     “Fuckers,” Raven growls.
     “Oh, we really messed up this time,” Shianni says, walking up to him and
Soris.
     “It’s alright! He won’t tell anyone a elven woman took him down!” Soris
squeaks.
     “Please. The shem deserved what he got. If he comes back, I’ll give him
more.” He looks at Shianni. “This is why I wanted a sheathe in my wedding
clothes.”
     “And that’s why I wouldn’t let you have one. You can’t just kill the arl
of Denerim’s son.” Shianni glares.
     Raven shrugs. “Sure would make me feel a hell of a lot better.”
     Shianni groans, running a hand through her miniature braids. “I’m
gonna...go get cleaned up.” She shakes her head, walking away.
     “Is everybody else alright?” Soris asks.
     “Well I’m pissed.” Raven grumbles, folding his arms. Two women approach
them and he sighs. He’s never seen them before--they must be his and Soris’
brides.
     “I think we’re just shaken. What was that about?” One asks. She has brown
eyes and a sharp nose, her hair a dirty blonde and pulled back into a neat
ponytail, two braids leading up to the ponytail itself.
Soris laughed, nervously. “Looks like the Arl’s son started drinking too
early.”
“Or, you know, he’s just a bastard rapist,” Raven speaks up, eying the other
woman down.
She was a platinum blonde with similar brown eyes and a pretty dress on.
Between his fury at Vaughn and his reluctance to go through with this damned
wedding in the first place, he’s on edge.
     Soris coughs. “Well, um, let’s not let this ruin the day. This is Valora,
my betrothed,” Soris says, nodding to the woman that spoke.
     “Then you must be mine,” Raven says, looking at the other woman. What was
her name again? Oh. Nesiara.
     “I am lucky to have finally seen you with my own eyes,” she replies
softly, a smile on her face. “Your father has told me much about you.”
     Oh, sweet Andraste’s tits. She’s a romantic. Fucking fucker fuck on a
flying  pig . Why did she have to be nice? Couldn’t she have been a bitch so
that it was easier to hate her?
     “I’m sure the two of you have a lot to discuss,” Soris says, interrupting
Raven’s thoughts. He gestures for Valora to follow him, and she does, while
Raven pleads with him with his eyes to come back.
     “Well, here we are,” Nesiara says, turning to Raven. “Are you nervous?”
She asks.
     Raven doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah.” He says, rubbing the back of his
neck.
     “Is something wrong?” She asks, studying him.
     Shit. She’s perceptive. “I…” He glances at her and nibbles on his lip. “I
don’t really-”
     “Come on cousin,  we should let them get ready.” Soris’ voice interrupts
him, right in his ear, and he turns to glare at him.
     “We’ll see you two in a bit. Don’t disappear on us!” Valora teases.
     “Or we’ll hunt you down!” Nesiara giggles.
     “Um,” Raven says, blinking.
     “Don’t look now, but we may have another problem,” Soris says.
     “Oh. Great,” Raven growls sarcastically, coming to Soris’ side. “What is
it?”
     “Another human just walked in. Could be one of Vaughn’s or just a random
trouble maker,” Soris says. Raven turns his head to look and frowns. The man is
in full armor with weapons on his back, which immediately sends Raven on guard.
He has light brown skin and black hair pulled into a ponytail with a thick
beard and dark brown eyes.
     “Let’s go talk to him.” Raven says with a sigh. He touches the end of his
braid, tugging on it with a sigh. He approaches the guy, on edge and on guard.
     “Good day.” The man says, crossing his arms and doing a respectful bow. “I
understand congratulations are in order for the impending wedding.”
     Raven sizes him up with his eyes. Respectful, polite, but so was Cafias.
Could be after something or someone. What’s he doing here anyway? “Good day,”
he replies, bowing back. Starting a fight could lead to disaster. Might as well
dig and find out what he wants first. “Do you have business here, Serah?” He
asks.
     “I do.” The human replies. “I believe, however, that I may have already
found what I was seeking.”
     The vagueness was completely unnecessary. “Ah. So you’ll be leaving, I
presume?”
     “I’m sorry, but I have no intention of leaving,” the man replies with a
small smile.
     “Listen, I don’t know what you’re here for, but there are plenty of drunk
elves right now who really don’t like humans. I don’t want a fight to break out
and I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Raven explains, eying the human. Damn
humans and their tallness.
     The man smiles. “He keeps his composure even when facing down an unknown
and  armed  human. A true gift, wouldn’t you say, Valendrian?” The Elder
approaches, a smile on his face.
     “I would say that Raven has a habit of doing things that aren’t his job.”
He reaches over and ruffles Raven’s hair. Raven ducks his head away, fixing his
hair back in place and glaring.
     “I just did this,” he mutters.
     “It is good to see you again, my old friend,” the elder says to the man.
“It has been far too long.”
     The man smiles. Raven sighs and gives a small bow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t
know you were a friend of the Elder.”
     “I was hardly forthcoming, and for that I apologize,” the man replies,
bowing in return and smiling.
     “You can say that again,”  Raven thinks, but he smiles and nods.
     “May I present Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden,” the Elder
says, smiling.
     “Gray wardens?” Raven’s eyebrows shot up to his head. “You’re a...A gray
warden?” His mother never stopped telling grand stories of the gray wardens and
their bravery and heroism. He’s always wanted to meet one.
     Duncan chuckles. “I am.” He smiles.
     “Well met,” Raven says, containing his excitement.
     “And you, lad,” Duncan replies.
     “My question remains unanswered. Why  are  you here Duncan?” The elder
asks.
     “The worst has happened. A blight has begun. King Cailan summons the Grey
Wardens to fight the Darkspawn horde beside his armies at Ostagar.” Raven’s
eyes widen.
     “Yes, I heard about the blight,” the Elder says slowly. “Still, this is an
awkward time. There is to be a wedding. Two, in fact.”
     “So I see. By all means, attend to your ceremonies. My concerns can wait,
for now,” Duncan says smoothly.
     “Very well. Children, treat Duncan as my guest. And for the Maker’s sake,
take your places!”  The Elder says, giving them both a stern look before
walking off.
     Duncan opens his mouth to speak but Raven quickly jumps on his chance.
“Are there elven Grey Wardens?!” He asks excitedly. He quickly realizes he’s
acting like a kid again, but he also realizes he doesn't much care.
     Duncan smiles, while Soris gives Raven one of his trademark, ‘You have got
to be kidding me’ looks. “But of course.” Duncan folds his hands behind his
back. “Some of the best Grey Warden’s I have known have been elven. Being
underestimated can have a huge advantage. In fact, I once tried to recruit
someone from this very alienage.”
     Raven’s eyes light up, and Soris tilts his head in surprise. “Really?
Who?” Raven asks.
     “Your mother,” Duncan says, nodding to Raven.
     Raven’s first reaction is the punch-to-the-gut guilt he feels every time
someone brings up his mother. The second is delight. “Really?” Raven half
grins. “Mother would’ve made an amazing warden.”
     “Warden’s die,” Soris mumbles.
     Raven turns his head to look at Soris. “Yeah, well, so did she. At least
she could’ve died doing something to change the world.”
     Duncan smiles. “She refused. She told me she was pregnant with you and
that she didn’t want to leave her family.”
     “Sounds like Mother,” Raven says with a soft smile. He then chuckles.
“Thank you, for telling me this,” he adds, giving a small bow.
     “Of course,” Duncan replies. Raven nods and slips off with Soris.
     ***
     Standing on the wedding platform makes Raven feel sick with nerves. He
tries not to cross his arms, instead folding them behind his back like Duncan
did. He glances at Soris and his bride-to-be and just feels sicker. Was he the
only one ready to run away as fast as he possibly could? He hears muttering
from the crowd below and glances down, hearing one of his neighbours whisper,
“You know, I never thought that boy would look right with a woman.”
     “I know!” The other one replies. “Raven oughta be with a man...”
     Raven flushes. Is he that fucking obvious? He sighs and looks up at the
sky, muttering a prayer. “I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only an
abyss,” he mumbles, half closing his eyes, remembering a quote from the Chant
of Light. Soris gives him a weird look and he stubbornly ignores it. His
opinions of the Maker has wavered over the years, but his loyalty to Andraste
remains strong. The Maker may be an uncaring god, but Andraste was a brave and
kind woman.
     “I’m so pleased to finally do this,” Nesiara says, turning to look at
Raven with a big smile. Raven tries to force his own.
     The Sister climbs up the steps to greet them, her hands folded in front of
her and her Chantry robes neat and clean. The Elder and the Sister both speak,
Raven shifting uncomfortably the entire time. He doesn’t know why, but he just
knows  something is about to go horribly, horribly wrong. His head snaps up
when the Sister interrupts herself. “Milord! This is an...unexpected surprise!”
Oh  fuck,  Vaughn is back and he looks angry. Raven straightens up and folds
his arms, staring Vaughn down.
     “Sorry to interrupt, Mother, but I’m having a party, and we’re  dreadfully
short on female guests,” Vaughn says as he marches up the steps, letting out a
cruel sort of laughter that sets Raven on edge.
     “Why don’t you go wank off in a Brothel then?” Raven snaps, eyes flashing
as he clenches his hands around weapons that aren’t there. “It’s where you and
your kind belong anyway.”
     Vaughn laughs. “Oh, you again. Quite the feisty one.” Raven feels his
blood boil.
     “Milord, this is a wedding!” The sister snaps disapprovingly, eyes
flashing.
     “Ha! If you want to dress up your  pets  and have tea parties, that’s your
business. But don’t pretend this is a proper wedding.” He gets right up in the
Sister’s face, and she takes a step back. Vaughn smirks. “Now, we’re here for a
good time,  aren’t we boys?”
     “Oh you people are fucking pigs!” Raven snaps, about to launch at the
fucker when Soris yanks him back. He whips his head to face his cousin and
glares.
     One of Vaughn’s friends laugh. “Ha! Just a good time with a ladies, that’s
all.” The other laughs with him. Raven feels sick.
     “Let’s take...those two, the one in the tight dress and...Where’s the
bitch that bottled me?” Vaughn says slowly, looking around.
     “Over here lord Vaughn!” One of his friends say with a cruel laugh. He
grabs Shianni by the back of her dress.
     “Let me go, you stuffed shirt son of a bitch!” Shianni growls, wiggling in
his grasp.
     Raven yanks free of Soris’ grip. “You’d damn well let her go!” He snarls,
feeling an animalistic anger rise inside him. “You will not touch her, or any
of the women here you sick fucking pig!”
     Vaughn downright ignores him, laughing. “Oh, I’ll enjoy taming her. And
see the pretty bride…” He turns to Nesiara, and Raven stands in front of him,
his entire body feeling like it was on fire with rage.
     “The fuck did I say?” He growls. “Do not lay a fucking hand on any of
them.” He turns his head to look at the other one. “And let Shianni go you
fucker!” He shouts.
     “Ah, yes. The uppity runt,” Vaughn says with a small laugh.
     “I’m going to fucking kill you!” Raven snaps. In a split second, Vaughn’s
fist is slamming into his jaw and he’s sent flying backwards, hitting the
ground and slamming his head into the wood, the world going black.
***
   
     When he sits up, his head feels like it's split in half. He winces, hand
tangling in his hair as he tries to focus his vision again. “Can you hear me
cousin? Are you alright?” Soris’ voice pierces through his haze and he turns to
look at him. “Oh fuck, you’re bleeding Raven!” Soris squeaks, reaching over and
cupping the back of his head.
     “I’m fine,” Raven mutters, waving Soris’ hands away. “Is everyone else?”
He asks, wiping the blood on his hands off on his tunic as he stands with
Soris. Soris rips off a piece of his own to bandage Raven’s head.
     “Vaughn took Shianni, Nesiara, Valora and the rest of the women in the
wedding party back to the palace,” Soris says, voice shaking.
     Raven nearly stumbles with how fast he whirls on Soris. “ What?!  He did
what?! And you fucking- You all let him do that. You all let him take them
away.” He turns to face the rest of the crowd, not sure if he’s angry,
disappointed, or frustrated. “How could you let him do that?!” He practically
screams.
     “Raven, he’s the Arl’s son, we couldn’t--” Soris tries to reason with him,
but he’s too pissed.
     “He took Shianni!” Raven snarls, whirling on Soris again. “Do you think
she’ll be the same after we let Vaughn go through with this?! Do you not
realize how something like that can change someone?” Raven asks, his voice
softening and quavering and his eyes watering. Soris stares at him, brown eyes
wide with shock at Raven’s anger. The crowd below shifted as the Elder tries to
calm them down. Raven stomps down the steps, pushing through the crowd and
right up to Duncan. “Why didn’t  you  stop him! You’re a fucking Gray Warden,
you could’ve taken those bastards down faster than lightning!”
     Duncan’s eyes are soft and sympathetic. “I still must abide by the law,”
he says gently, taking Raven’s hands as tears start to race down his cheeks.
     “So there’s nothing we can do!?” He demands, voice cracking.
     “Running after them will just make things worse,” Elva grumbles.
     Raven whirls on her. “Shut up, you petty bitch. You only care about your
own fucking hide.”
     The crowd gasps at his anger and he just glares at them. One of the men in
the crowd speaks up. “I agree, we can’t just do nothing! They took my sister!”
Raven shoots him a proud look. At least someone has sense.
     “We have to go after them!” Raven growls.
     “Normally, I’d council patience--”
     “Which is bullshit,” Raven snaps. The Elder sends him a furious glance.
     “However.” The Elder continues. “Stories of the Arl’s son and his
appetites are...Most disturbing.”
     Raven shudders. “We need to do something.  Now. ”
     “But what can we do?” Another from the crowd asks. “We’re talking about
the Arl’s palace. Even with the Arl and his knights gone, it’s going to be
heavily guarded.”
     Raven is tempted to snap at him, too. Granted, he’d like to storm the
entire place himself but, the man is right. He sighs. “Elder, may I offer a
suggestion?” A soft spoken man speaks up, his words quiet in the crowd. Raven’s
gaze swivels to him. “I work inside the palace. I could sneak one, perhaps two
others in through the Servants entrance. Nobody will notice an extra pair of
elves looking around.”
     Raven’s eyes light up. “We could be in and out before anyone could tell
the difference.” He says, hope building inside him. He will not let what
happened to him happen to Shianni.
     “I’m with you of course.” Soris says from behind him. “But if we run into
trouble, we won’t be able to talk our way out of it.”
     Raven half smiles.  Who said anything about talking?  he thinks. “For
that, you will need weapon’s,” Duncan says, and Raven fully smiles. “Allow me
to offer you my own longsword and bow. People should be allowed to defend their
loved ones properly.”
     “Thank you, Duncan,” Raven says. Inwardly, he’s thinking that he really
really wants that sword.
     “Then your path is set.” The Elder heaves a sigh. “I pray the Maker looks
on you with favor.”
     “Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide,” Soris
whispers and Raven sighs.
     “You’re all insane! The guards will burn our homes down around us!” Elva
screams.
     Raven whirls on her as the anger bubbles back up. “Oh, and I’m sure that
it matters much more to you that your hide is saved and not that women are
about to get fucking raped. I’m sure that as long as it doesn’t affect you, you
don’t care.” Elva shuts her mouth and glares.
     “I’ll make sure the way is clear.” The soft spoken elf speaks up again.
“When you’re ready, meet me at the alienage gate.”
     Raven nods, and Duncan hands them their weapons. He turns to the man who
protested not going after the women, and asks, “Can I borrow your belt?”
     He nods, and Raven pulls the belt on tight and slips the sword into the
space between the belt and himself. “Thanks,” Raven says. His hand wraps around
the hilt as he walks to the gate, Soris falling into step beside him.
***
     Raven walks through the castle halls, hand clenching on the hilt of
Duncan’s sword again. He hears men speaking behind a door, and he presses
against the wall and signals Soris to be quiet as he pulls out the sword. “One
less knife-ear breeder in the world.”
     “Shame, though. Quite a body on that one.” The other one laughs.
     “She’s still warm. How picky are you, anyway?” Another asks.
     Raven grits his teeth hard. He kicks open the door, not even giving anyone
a chance to speak when he runs up on one of the guards, shoving the sword in
his hands into his throat and yanking it straight through, causing his head to
half fall of his neck, body falling to the ground with a harsh thump. The blood
had splattered all over Raven and he feels a rush of sick satisfaction race
through his veins. The other two charge on him. He whirls, shoving the now
bloody sword into the second one’s chest, twisting it in his chest and watching
as his face crumpled with pain. Raven pants, his mind going blank and the only
emotion he’s feeling is anger and satisfaction as he watches these bastards
die. The last hits him, his sword slicing through Raven’s arm. Raven yanks the
sword out of the guard’s chest and is about to whirl on the last one when
Soris’ bow slams into the guy’s neck. He crumples to the ground with the rest
of them and Raven lets a grin spread across his face. Panting and blood
covered, he wipes his hand against his mouth, only succeeding in rubbing the
blood across his lips.
     Soris stares at him for a long time, lowering the bow slowly. He gives a
nervous laugh, then looks on the ground. “Oh no...” he whispers. “They killed
her! I can’t believe this. ” He says, blinking back tears, and walking to the
first body on the floor.
     Raven looks down as well and his heart twists.  Dammnit,  he thinks. “We
need to save the others,” he says firmly. “If anything happens to Shianni I’ll-
-” His hand tightens on his sword. “I will fucking paint the walls with blood.”
     Soris looks at him with wide eyes. “Uh,” he mutters. “We--we should
hurry.” He stands. Raven nods in agreement and the two venture further into the
palace.
     Raven doesn’t understand why, but with every time he slices a guard's
chest open he feels this sick rush, this incredible high of satisfaction. These
makerdamned bastards are getting exactly what they deserve and it makes Raven
feel empowered. He hates himself for it, but he can’t stop. He eventually finds
a much longer sword, like the one he and mother trained with, and he puts
Duncan’s away as he grips that one. He makes sure Soris stays out of the line
of fire, shooting from afar, and Soris barely gets any blood on him. For that,
he’s grateful. He doesn’t think Soris can handle much. The larger sword allows
him to easily slice through heads and limbs, killing the bastards in an instant
and it feels amazing. He’s covered in blood, he can smell it everywhere, but
with each new splatter he feels more and more strong.
     He both hates and loves the feeling.
     When he finally gets to Vaughn’s room, he’s soaked with blood and his
anger is at an all-time high. “My my. What have we here?” Vaughn purrs as he
turns to face them. Raven growls under his breath, then glances around the
room. When he sees Shianni on the ground, curled up with tear streaks on her
cheeks, his stomach lurches.
     “Shianni,” he whispers, hand tightening on his sword.
     “Don’t worry, we’ll make short work of these two,” one of Vaughn’s friends
taunts.
     “Quiet, you idiot! They’re covered with enough blood to fill a tub! What
do you think that means?!” Vaughn snaps.
     “It means that I’ve killed every single one of your guards and that your
palace is running red with blood,” Raven snarls, eyes darting to Vaughn’s. “And
it means you’re next on the chopping block.” He steps closer, fury making his
vision go dark around the edges as he grabs Vaughn by his tunic and yanks him
close. “And trust me. I’m going to make it  hurt. ” His voice is dripping with
venom and fury, his hands shaking with the force of it as he touches the edge
of his sword to Vaughn’s chin.
     Vaughn’s eyes widen with fear and he swallows. “W-wait! Let’s, let’s not
be too hasty here!” He gives a nervous laugh. “Surely, we can, uh, talk this
over?” He asks, voice cracking in nervousness.
     Raven lets a small smile creep onto his lips as he leans a little closer.
“Do I look like the type of guy you can talk things over with?” He hisses under
his breath.
     Shianni’s sobbing distracts Raven, his eyes darting to his cousin as his
heart twists. “Pl-please. Just-Just get me outta here,” Shianni whimpers,
lowering her head to the ground. “I wanna go home…”
Raven’s heart breaks.
     “We’re gonna go home, Shianni,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay.”
     Vaughn looks back at him. “Think for a minute,” he says slowly. “If you
kill me, and you ruin more lives than just your own. By dawn, the city will run
red with elven blood.”
     Raven snarls. “Is that a fucking threat?” He growls, his sword tilting
Vaughn’s head up threateningly.
     “Think about it!” Vaughn insists. “You know how this ends. Or we could
talk this through, now that you have my undivided attention.”
     Raven smirks. “I very much doubt anything that comes out of your mouth
could make me want to kill you any less. But go ahead, talk.”
     “You leave, with a pocket full of sovereigns,” Vaughn says, smiling.
     “Okay, that’s it,” Raven snaps, letting go of Vaughn’s shirt so he can
step back, grab his sword hilt with both ends and slam it into Vaughn’s neck.
Blood splatters all over him as he drags the sword through flesh and bone,
watching as Vaughn’s eyes roll back into his head and his head drops to the
ground. Raven grins and turns to the other two, twisting the sword in his hand.
They pull out their weapons but Raven is already on them, using the sword to
slide through their legs like butter, listening to them scream as they fall to
the ground and shoving the sword tip into their throats one at a time and
letting their screams cut to a halt.
     Raven pants, licking his lips clean from blood. Soris stands in the
corner, eyes wide. “He-he’s dead. Did. Did we do the right thing?” He asks,
voice shaking.
     “There is no one right thing in these situations, Soris,” Raven murmurs,
putting his sword away. He’s in a bit of a haze, but focusing on Shianni drags
him out of it. “Get the other women and make sure they’re okay.” He kneels
beside Shianni, eyes soft. “Shi?” He asks softly.
     “Don’t--don’t leav-leave me al-alone,” Shianni whimpers, eyes tightly
closed as she reaches for Raven. Raven takes her hand gingerly, rubbing his
fingers over the back of her hand. “Please, please… Take me home. Just take me
home.”
     “Shh, shh,” Raven whispers, gently helping her off the ground and petting
her hair. “It’s okay Shianni. I’m right here, I promise. I’m gonna take you
home, okay? Everything is gonna be alright. You’re safe now, I promise.”
Raven’s insides twist and he feels sick. Shianni didn’t deserve this. He knows.
He fucking  knows . Shianni isn’t going to be the same anymore--he wasn’t after
Cafias. Why didn’t he get here sooner?!
     “So much blood,” she whispers, her head going into Raven’s chest as she
hides herself away. “I can’t stand to look at it. It--it’s everywhere.” Raven
closes his eyes as tears build behind them, petting her hair gingerly and
kissing the top of her head gently. “You killed them, didn’t you?” She
whispers. “You killed them all?”
     “Yeah, Shianni. Every single one of them. Their never gonna hurt you or
anyone ever again,” Raven murmurs, hugging Shianni close to him. Shianni nods.
     “Good...good,” she whispers, nodding.
     Soris and the others walk out, looking at him and Shianni. “Is...She going
to be alright?” Valora asks in a whisper. Raven looks at her and sighs.
     “Yes,” he says, looking back at Shianni. “Eventually,” he mutters, kissing
Shianni’s head again.
     Nesiara walks out, standing near Soris. “I...can’t believe you came for
me,” she says softly.
     He glances at her and then back to Shianni. “I came for Shianni,” he
mutters.
     Soris coughs. “We should go. Soon. As in now.”
     Raven nods then gently pulls Shianni away. “Can you stand, Shi?” He asks
softly, searching her hazel eyes. She nods, and Raven slowly helps her to her
feet. She trembles and falls, Raven catching her. “I’ve got you,” he assures.
 
***
 
     Shianni was back home, Soris and Raven had changed out of their blood-
soaked clothes into better ones, and they had explained things to the Elder.
“The guards are here!” One of the local elves shout, running up to Soris,
Raven, The Elder, and Duncan.
     “Shit,” Raven mutters under his breath.
     “Don’t panic. Let’s see what comes of this,” the Elder says.
     A passive-aggressive argument begins with the Elder and the head Guard.
Raven shifts, nibbling on his bottom lip. “I need names, and I need them now!”
The guard demands.
     Raven looks around. His heart leaps in his throat. He wasn’t letting Soris
go to jail. A quick glance around proves Elva is nearby and she’d give them up
in a matter of seconds. He’s prepared to die. He steps forward. “Me,” he says
firmly, lifting his chin and staring the guard straight in the eye. “I killed
the Arl’s son and his guards.”
     “You expect me to believe one man did all that?” The guard demands.
     Raven arches an eyebrow. “We are not all so helpless, Captain,” the Elder
says dryly.
     The Captain looks at him. “You’ve saved many by coming forward. I don’t
envy your fate, but I applaud your courage.”
     Raven simply nods, staring the Captain down. It’s fitting, he supposes.
That he gives up his life. It is only what he deserves after his mother’s
death.
     “This elf will wait in the dungeons until the Arl returns! The rest of
you, back to your homes!” Soris’ eyes are wide and panicked and he grabs
Raven’s hand, squeezing tightly. Raven turns to look at him and smiles.
     “It's okay, Soris,” Raven murmurs. “Go check on Shianni.”
     Soris’ eyes wetten with tears as he pulls away slowly, breathing hard.
“Captain, a word, if you please,” Duncan says firmly, approaching.
     “What is it, Grey Warden? The situation is already under control, as you
can see.”
     “Be that as it may, I hearby invoke the Grey Warden’s Right of
Conscription. I remove this prisoner into my custody.” Raven’s eyes widen and
he turns to Duncan.
     “P-Pardon?” He stammers. Him? A Grey Warden?  Him?!
     “Son of a tied down--” The Captain breathes in and heaves a sigh. “Very
well, Grey Warden. I cannot challenge your rights, but I will ask you one
thing. Get this elf out of the city.  Today,”  he orders.
     Raven swallows, looking back at Soris who looked shell-shocked. “Agreed,”
Duncan says. Raven feels dizzy and he tunes everything out for a moment as the
guards leave. Duncan comes back into his vision. “You’re with me now. Say your
goodbyes and come talk to me when you’re finished. We leave immediately.”
     “I-- Okay.” Raven swallows, eyes wide as he turns. Soris stares at him
then wraps both arms tightly around his neck. He grunts in surprise, then wraps
his arms around Soris in return.
     “You saved my life, Raven,” Soris mutters, pulling back and smiling at his
Cousin. “I know you're going to be amazing out there. Kick some ass, okay?” He
says, then hugs Raven tight again. Raven nods, in shock.
     “You know I’d save your hide any day of the week.” Raven chuckles weakly,
smiling at Soris. Soris laughs and nods, letting go of Raven. Raven slowly
moves deeper into the alienage, smiling and saying his farewells as the people
of the alienage hug him and shake his hand. Then he’s standing in front of his
little hut, hands shaking as he pushes open the door. Cyrion looks up as soon
as he enters, his face wet. Raven feels his chest twist and he stumbles. Cyrion
catches him, yanking him into a tight hug. Raven can’t speak, hugging him back.
“I love you, Papa,” Raven mutters, eyes closing tightly.
     “I love you too, son,” Cyrion mutters, squeezing him tight. He lets go and
cups Raven’s cheeks. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
     “I will, Papa,” Raven murmurs, cupping Cyrion’s hands with his own and
smiling.
     Cyrion nods, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. He
considers for a moment, before saying, “Your mother would’ve been proud.”
     Raven’s eyes blur and he replies by pressing his face into Cyrion’s
shoulder and clenching the necklace he gave him. “Thank you.” Cyrion nods,
petting his son’s head.
     “You should say goodbye to Shianni. She’s going to miss you,” he says.
Raven nods, pulling back slowly. He walks down the hall, slipping into the
bedroom. “Shianni?” He asks.
     “Cyrion told me,” Shianni says softly, sitting in their chair. “You’re
going to be a Grey Warden, huh?” She remarks. Her voice is tired and she has a
small smile on her lips.
     “Yeah,” Raven murmurs, sitting down on the bed and taking her hand. “How
are you doing?”
     “I’m fine. Everyone’s treating me like I’m some...Porcelain doll, you
know?” Shianni mutters.
     Raven nods. “You’re strong, Shianni. The strongest person I know.” He
smiles and squeezes her hand. “I’m going to miss you.”
     “I’m going to miss you too.” Shianni says, smiling at him. “But you’re
going to do awesome out there.”
     “Thanks.” Raven smiles, then his eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I--”
     “Don’t apologize.” Shianni climbs onto the bed beside him and yanks him
into a hug. He hugs back tightly, breathing in and out slowly. “I bet you're
going to meet a man out there.”
     Raven chokes, pushing Shianni away playfully. “Shianni!” He says, flushed
to the tips of his ears. Shianni grins slyly and pushes back. She still looks
worn, but he knows she’s going to be okay. Hopefully.
     She laughs. “Get packed,” she says, standing. “I’m going to go talk to
Cyrion.”
     He nods, watching her leave. He sighs and stands. He lifts up his pillow,
pulling out his knife. He slips that into his belt. He grabs a bag out of the
cupboard and pushes some of his tunics and breeches in there, and a sturdy pair
of boots. He walks to the edge of the room, opening the small chest where he
keeps his things. He picks up the elfroot charm Soris gave him on his eleventh
birthday. He pulls out the small pouch of the money he’s collected over the
years- It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He tucks that into his belt as well,
sighing softly and peering into the chest for anything else he might need or
want. He sighs and stands, going back to the bag and slipping the charm inside.
He walks to his bed and rolls up the blanket, then grabs Cyri off the end of
it. He felt foolish taking the plush with him, but, it was a memory of his
mother he wasn’t quite ready to let go. He stuffs both in the bag and ties it
off, picking it up and standing. He walks out of the bedroom, stumbling as
Shianni tackles him in a hug. He grunts and wraps one arm around her, squeezing
tight. “Love you,” he murmurs.
     “Love you too, Raven,” she says, planting a smooch on his cheek. He laughs
softly and lets her go, and she hops back to the ground. Raven takes one last
look at his Father before walking out, taking a deep breath.
Chapter End Notes
     This was Bioware's idea not mine bro
***** Darkspawn Blood *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     After a trip through Ostagar and the wilds, meeting some new people
     along the way, Raven gives himself to the Grey Wardens.
Chapter Notes
     Woot woot! Updating! In this chapter we meet Marilyn, one of 3
     original characters that will appear in Raven's story during the
     course of Origins (I make no promises for Awakening, any of the other
     DLCS, 2, or inquisition. You have been warned.) We also meet Morrigan
     and Alistair! Fun! I hope you enjoy this chapter. <3 Love you guys!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Raven sits beside Duncan at the fire, staring into the flames. They are camping
in the Hinterlands on their way to Ostagar. The night is quiet around them,
Raven leaning against a moss covered rock. He glances at Duncan, then back at
the fire. “Duncan?” He asks softly.
“Yes?” Duncan says, without looking up from where he’s tending the fire.
“So, uh.” Raven swallows, “Why…um... Why did you choose me for the Grey
Wardens?”
Duncan looks up. “I considered it from the moment I met you. You were well
spoken,
polite--but firm. You did not waver, even though you were facing down what was
an obvious threat. Then your determination to protect others from injustice
only convinced me further. When you were willing to sacrifice yourself in order
to protect Soris, I knew that you could be one of us.” Raven nods slowly.
“I see,” he says, thinking over the words that Duncan spoke.
 
***
 
Duncan discusses with him the current situation going on in Ostagar as they
approach the ruins themselves. “The Blight must be stopped here. If it spreads
to the north, Fereldan will fall,” Duncan says, worry making his voice tight.
Raven nods, folding his arms across his chest.
“So we stop it,” Raven nods firmly.
“Indeed,” Duncan agrees.
“Ho there, Duncan!” Raven looks up from the ground at the sound of a cheerful
voice. The man approaching Duncan and shaking his hand has bright blonde hair
and equally bright gold eyes. He’s dressed in full golden armor, his smile
large and friendly.
“King Calian? I didn’t expect-” Duncan begins. Raven’s eyes widen. That’s King
Calian?!
“A royal welcome?” Calian laughs. “I was beginning to worry you’d miss out on
all the fun!”
“Not if I could help it, your majesty,” Duncan says grimly.
“Then I’ll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!”
Raven frowns, finding his excitement to go rushing off into battle unnerving.
“The other Wardens tell me you’ve found a promising recruit. I take it this is
he?” Calian’s attention turns on him and he gives a respectful nod. No matter
what, he’s still a king, and it’s in Raven’s best interest to be polite. At
least the man isn’t cruel.
“Allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty,” Duncan says, and Calian laughs
again.
“No need to be so formal, Duncan! We’ll be shedding blood together after all.
Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?” Calian smiles down at him and Raven
shifts.
“Raven Tabris, your Majesty,” Raven says, voice hoarse from exhaustion.
“Pleased to meet you!” Calian exclaims. “The Grey Wardens are desperate to
bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them. I see you are an
elf, friend. From where do you hail?” He asks, tilting his head. It reminds
Raven of a puppy.
“The Alienage in Denerim, Your Majesty,” Raven replies, looking Calian in the
eye.
Calian smiles. “I, myself, come from Denerim!” He says, sounding rather
excited. Raven isn’t sure if he finds his naive cheer and friendliness
endearing or unnerving. “Tell me, how is it in the Alienage? My guards all but
forbid me from visiting.”
Raven considers his words for a moment. If he shocks Calian, getting him to see
just how horrible it is back home, maybe, just maybe, he’d make a change when
he returned to the palace. “I killed an Arl’s son for raping my friend,” he
replies bluntly, still maintaining eye contact.
Calian flushes and his smile drops somewhat. “You...What?” He questions,
blinking several times.
“Your Majesty, I would not have put it so bluntly.” Duncan sends him a look.
Raven replies with a half-shrug. “There are events in Denerim you should be
aware of.”
“So it seems,” Calian replies. “I will hear more about this matter later. For
now, we have a war to attend to.” He turns to Raven. “Allow me to be the first
to welcome you into the Grey Wardens. They will benefit greatly from having you
in their ranks.” He gives a small bow. Raven returns it. “I’m sorry to cut this
short, but I should return to my post. Loghain awaits eagerly to  bore  me with
his strategies.” Raven arches an eyebrow again.
“Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that his forces should be here
in less than a week,” Duncan says.
“Ha!” Calian snorts. “Eamon just wants in on all the glory! We’ve won three
battles against these monsters, and tomorrow shall be no different!”
“You sound very confident of that,,” Raven comments dryly.
“Overconfident, some would say,” Calian laughs. Raven has to agree. ‘The best
laid plans go to waste, Raven. Always be prepared for disaster.’ That’s what
his mother used to say. “I’m not even sure this is a true blight. There are
plenty of Darkspawn about, but alas, we see no sign of an Archdemon.” Calian
sighs, turning and walking forward.
Alas?  Raven’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. Okay, maybe this man is just a
crazy bastard. “Disappointed, your majesty?” Duncan asks, his own tone holding
a hint of dryness.
“I’d hope for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey
Wardens against a tainted God…” Calian shakes his head, trailing off wistfully.
“But I suppose this will have to do.” He turns back around. “I must go, before
Loghain sends out a search party! Farewell, Grey Wardens,” he says, giving them
a smile before walking off with his guards. Duncan and Raven both bow in
farewell.
Duncan starts walking again and Raven falls into step beside him. “What the
king said is true--we’ve won several battles against the darkspawn here,”
“Yet you’re still worried.” Raven nods.  “I would be too.”
“Indeed. Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn horde grows larger with
each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us. I know there is an
archdemon behind this, but I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling.”
Duncan stops, turning to face him.
“We should move quickly, then.” Raven sighs.
Duncan nods. “Exactly. We should proceed to the joining ritual without delay.”
“What do you need me to do?” Raven folds his arms behind his back, ready to get
moving.
“Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not
leave it for the time being,” Duncan says. He then explains that Raven needs to
find another Warden named Alistair, and summon the rest of the recruits. Raven
nods, watching Duncan leave. He looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath.
“Here we go,” he mutters.
***
In exploring the ruins, Raven discovers quite a few interesting tidbits, quite
a few of which he calmly tucks into his pocket. He meets the Mabari Warhound
caretaker, and meets a Mabari for the first time. He helps the keeper muzzle a
Mabari that needs help, soothing the hurt dog and gently petting its head as he
slips the muzzle on, assuring him that it’s just to help him feel better. The
Houndmaster informs him that if the dog recovers, he might give him to Raven
since the Dog seems to rather like him. ‘Imprinted on ya’ is how the
Houndmaster phrased it. He also said that there’s a flower that could really
help the Dog. Raven said that he would keep an eye out for it.
Right now, he’s trying to find this Alistair fellow.
“What is it now? Haven’t Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?” An
angry man asks as Raven walks up the steps to a small area of the ruins. At
first, he thinks it's him the man is addressing but he sees the other man
across from the first, leaning on a pillar with a clearly frustrated
expression. The second man is blonde, with honey brown eyes, light colored skin
and heavy armor on. He’s rather handsome.
“I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, Ser Mage. She
desires your presence.” The second man heaves a sigh as he speaks.
A mage? He’s never met a mage. Interesting. He looks back to the first man as
he speaks. “What her reverence ‘Desires’ is of no concern to me!” He snaps. “I
am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the King’s orders, I might add!”
The grin the second man gives is nothing short of charming, if tinged with
exasperation. “Should I have asked her to write a note?” He asks, and Raven has
to force down a chuckle at the wry comment.
“Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!” The mage growls, practically
bristling like a cat. Raven arches a eyebrow.
“Yesss, I was harassing  you,  by delivering a  message,”  the second man
groans, the mischievous glint in his eyes clear, along with the incredible
annoyance.
“Your glibness does you no credit,” the mage growls.
The man sighs deeply, then his eyes light up with mirth and he smirks. “Here I
thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my
children after you. The  grumpy  one.” He snarks. This time Raven does snort,
covering it behind his hand. Both men look at him, the second looking delighted
his jokes made someone laugh, the Mage looking like he wants Raven to die.
Raven dares him with his eyes to try it.
“Enough!” The mage snaps, turning away. “I will speak to the woman if I must.
Get out of my way, fool.” That last bit is directed at Raven, who’s still
chuckling softly. Raven follows him with his eyes and arches an eyebrow.
“You know, one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together,”
the second man says as he turns to Raven, heaving another sigh and half-
smiling.
Raven chuckles. “I know what you mean,” he murmurs dryly, looking up at this
strange human. He likes him.
“It’s like a party; We could all stand in a circle and hold hands.  That  would
give the darkspawn something to think about.” Raven laughs, and the man grins
in success, looking pleased. When Raven trails off in his laughter, the man
says, “Wait, we haven’t met, have we? I don’t suppose you’re another mage...?”
“Would that make your bad day even worse?” Raven asks dryly.
“No, I just would like to know the chances of my being turned into a toad at
any moment.” This time they both laugh, and then the man goes, “Wait, I  do
know who you are. You’re Duncan’s new recruit!” He exclaims, snapping his
fingers in recognition. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Raven Tabris,” Raven says once he regains himself, leaning on a pillar. “And
you?”
“Alistair,” Alistair says with a smile.
“Ah, good. Just who I was looking for. Kinda wish Duncan had given me more
instructions than ‘There’s another Grey Warden here, go find him.’ But hey,
guess it worked,” Raven jests, grinning. Its Alistair who laughs this time and
Raven feels oddly pleased.
“Well, you found me! Any questions before we head off to meet up with Duncan?”
Alistair asks. Raven shrugs.
“No, I’m good. Let’s get out of here,” he says with a sigh. “Lead the way,
Alistair.”
Alistair nods and walks off, Raven following closely behind. The walk through
Ostagar is uneventful, Raven watching the ground sink beneath his footsteps as
he walks behind Alistair, who chats to fill the silence. Raven puts in a couple
words every now and then, laughing at Alistair’s jokes. When they reach Duncan
again, the sun was only a few hours from setting. He watches the sky when
Alistair goes to get the other recruits, studying the way the clouds drift.
It's weird to him, how peaceful it all seems. Like the calm before the storm.
For some reason, the way that King Cailan had talked about the battle tonight
had set him on edge, making him think that something is going to go very, very
wrong.
“Is something on your mind?” Duncan’s voice cuts through his thoughts and he
shakes himself out of his stupor.
“Ah, no.” Raven sighs, folding his arms behind his back, absently mimicking
Duncan’s position. He looks over at the sound of quiet words approaching them.
Alistair is leading three people, one of them a woman, the other two men. The
woman has dark blue eyes that reminded Raven of a stormy day, black hair tied
up in a bun, and light armor on. One of the men is thin and a head shorter than
the other two, his eyes dark brown and his hair black. He has a easy-going grin
on his face. The last man is tall, sturdy, and strong looking, with heavy armor
on and mostly shaved brown hair. Following the woman closely is a mabari hound.
The woman nods at him, walking close to Alistair’s side, who, Raven notices, is
blushing slightly.
“You must be Raven,” she says, walking right up to him and holding her hand out
in greeting. “Marilyn Cousland, at your service. Just call me Mary.” She gives
a half smile. Cousland. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t place from
where.
“Good to meet you,” he murmurs, studying her. There’s something dark in her
eyes, something boiling there that reminds Raven of his own inner fury.
“You as well.” She lets go of his hand and steps back. The short thin man steps
up.
“Daveth.” He gives an elegant half bow. Raven lifts up one side of his mouth in
a half-smile. “And this is Ser Jory.” Raven nods to him too, and he lifts one
hand in greeting. “Quiet one, ain’t cha?” Daveth says, his accent decidedly
Denerim.
Raven shrugs and half-smiles again. “Suppose you could say that,” he says.
Duncan sighs. “Well then, since you are all here, we can get started. You five
will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks.” Duncan describes
both, one of which is getting five vials of Darkspawn blood, one for each
recruit. Raven finds that decidedly unsettling, but Duncan was dodgy when he
asked questions about it. He huffs; must be a Grey Warden thing. The other task
they were assigned is finding old Grey Warden treaties in an old Grey Warden
ruin in an old, magical, Grey Warden Cache.
Simple.
***
The wilds are creepy. That’s the first thing that Raven thinks when he enters
the thick wood, armored up with a huge greatsword leaning on his shoulder. He
continuously twists the handle, causing the blade to rotate. He finds it more
comfortable to hold it then to rest it in its sheathe on his back- plus, he can
grab it at a moment's notice. And here, he thinks that’s probably a good idea.
Alistair and him end up leading the way, with Mary not far behind, her Mabari
loyally trotting by her side,  and Daveth and Jory bringing up the rear. Raven
doesn’t like how much noise they make moving around, the leaves crunching under
their heavy armor loudly.
“You gonna put that up?” Mary asks, nodding to his sword.
“No,” he replies, glancing back at her. Mary shrugs.
“Fair enough. Kinda creepy here.”
“You could say that again.” Alistair grumbles, holding onto the handle of his
sheathed sword.
“It's kinda creepy here,” Mary repeats, a slight smirk playing at her lips.
Raven snorts, Daveth doing the same. Jory looks unamused.
Alistair sends them all a look before he laughs too. He sobers. “Part of being
a Grey Warden is being able to sense when Darkspawn are near. I’ll let you all
know when we’re near some,” he says, sighing and looking around.
“Gotcha,” Raven murmurs, then his head whips to the side as a wolf leaps out of
the bushes followed closely by the rest of the pack. Before he can even move,
Mary’s left hand, the one not holding her own sword, shoves forward and a fire
ball lands in the middle of the pack, blowing the wolves to kingdom come. Raven
takes a step back in surprise, eyes widening. “You just shot fire from your
hand.” he says out loud, too startled to realize how fucking stupid that
sounded.
Mary looks at him and laughs. “What, never seen magic before?”
“No, actually.” Raven eyes the burning wolves. “Didn’t even realize you’re a
mage.”
“I’m good at keeping that hidden, kid,” she says, pulling her sword out of its
sheathe.
“Oh,” he murmurs, staring at the fire. Alistair tugs on his arm to pull him
away, and he shakes his head to clear it. He was both impressed and still
freaking out over she just  shot fire from her hand.  Not that there was
anything wrong with being a mage it just--It’s awesome, that’s what it is. “So
what else can you do?” He asks her, letting Alistair lead and falling into step
beside her.
“Not much,” she admits, watching her own steps. “I just have the magic, not the
skill.” She shrugs. “My family kinda beat into me never to use my magic.”
“How come?” He asks, feeling that old, childlike curiosity build up inside him.
He wants to know more.
Mary looks at him and smiles. “Parents didn’t want me to go away to the
Circle.”
Raven nods slowly. “Ah. I can understand that. When I was a kid, my parents
didn’t want me talking to humans. Not the same thing, I know, but I can
understand where they were coming from.”
Mary nods and smiles. “They’d have a heart attack now.”
Raven eyes her. “Where do you come from, anyway?”
“Highever. I’m the daughter of Teyrn Cousland.” Oh! That’s where he heard that
name!
“Oh. I had a friend who went to Highever.” He nearly winces at the thought of
Lito, shoving the image of the man away in his mind and focusing on what’s
going on around him. He hears Daveth and Jory chatting behind him and Alistair
seems to be focusing on what is going on around them.
“Oh yeah?” Mary asks, fiddling with her hands. “So, what brought you to the
Grey Wardens?”
Raven smiles awkwardly. “Well, uh.” He laughs. “I was about to be married--Not
my choice, mind you. I have no interest in marriage- When this jackass, Vaughn
Urien, son of the Arl of Denerim, decided he was going to kidnap the women and
rape them. He took my cousin, Shianni, which, other than being pissed about it
in the first place, really pissed me off because Shianni and I are very close.
So Duncan lent me and my cousin Soris his weapons and we went into the castle
and pretty much killed everyone and saved Shianni. When the guards tried to
take me away Duncan conscripted me, and now I’m here.”
Mary smiles. “Interesting story you’ve got there.” She laughs softly. “Do you
miss them?”
Raven sighs and looks up at the sky. “Yeah. I was pretty estranged from most of
the alienage by that point though.” He reaches up and touches the necklace
hanging around his neck. “Shianni and Soris were my only close friends, and
things with my Father have always been...Well. Different, you could say. I
never really felt enough for him.” He sighs then shakes his head. “With the
Grey Wardens, I feel like… I can do something good, for once.” He’s surprised
by how true that statement is. He wants to do something good- and make up for
all the bad he’s done.
“I understand.” Mary sighs and looks up at the sky as well.
“How about you?” He looks back at her.
Mary’s face twists and  there’s  the anger he first sensed in her. “Ever heard
of Rendon Howe?”
“I’ve heard the name, occasionally.” Cafias had turned out to be his son, but
he wasn’t telling Mary that.
“He was friends with my family. Close friends.” She glares and tightens her
grip on the sword. “Always tried to get me with his son, Cafias.”
Raven bristles at the name, swallowing hard at the bile that rises at the
thought of him.
“He was meeting with my father to join their forces and go to join the fight
here, in Ostagar.
His story was that his forces had been slowed by the weather and would be there
in a couple days. Duncan, meanwhile, was there to recruit.” She breathes in
slowly and says, “Father sent Fergus, my brother, ahead here with the Army.
I’ve been looking for him, but Duncan says he’s scouting here in the wilds. I’m
hoping we’ll run into him, but…” She shakes her head and continues, “Howe was
lying. Thinking back on it, I should have known. I thanked him, for all he’d
done for my family and my father, and he got so uncomfortable. He started
looking everywhere but me.” She growls under her breath. “Bastard attacked us
in the night, with his whole fucking army. Almost all of our soldiers were with
Fergus. We were defenseless. His army was ordered to kill everyone. My little
sister, Paige, was about 15. The worse of it though was Fergus’ wife and 8 year
old son.” She shakes her head. “Duncan managed to get me out of there, but my
parents…” She sighs and twists the sword in her hand.
“I’m sorry,” he offers. It didn’t sound like enough, but it was all he had. He
saw Alistair sending her a small smile, one filled with sympathy- but not pity.
She nods. “It's okay. I’ll find him and kill him,” she says with a half smile.
Raven chuckles softly. “I’ll hold him still for you.”
She grins at him, and he grins back. There’s pain in her smile, but for some
reason, he thinks she can sense the same in him.  They’re interrupted by
Alistair saying, “Darkspawn approaching,” and pulling out his sword and shield.
The two nod, both getting ready, while the Mabari, who Mary had told Raven is
named Daisy, gets down in a pounce position and growls. Jory and Daveth both
draw their weapons, and Raven tenses. Alistair told him that the first time he
had seen a Darkspawn had been terrifying.
He certainly was not disappointed when the thing leaps out of the trees.
It’s fucking horrifying, its skin a pale grey with bits of it peeling and
flaking. Its armor is jagged and blood stained, and when it opens its mouth and
snarls, its teeth are each as sharp as a razor. It stinks, its eyes a beady
black and the noises it makes utterly horrifying. Raven doesn’t even hesitate,
attacking it with all his might. His sword is stopped by its sword, the other
Darkspawn battling with his companions. He growls, adrenaline overtaking the
fear in one quick movement. His heart starts pounding in his ears as he steps
back, swinging his sword back and attacking again, this time hitting it, but
the sword only bangs off the armor. He searches for a weak spot, and finds it.
So, as the Darkspawn swings at him, he dodges out of of the way, swings one
final time, and makes a smooth, deep cut through the muscle and bone of the
Darkspawns thick neck. It falls to the ground, black blood spurting out of it’s
body, splashing onto Raven. The blood stinks worse than the Darkspawn itself,
and the blood is warm, sticky, and nearly burning.
He looks around, panting. Many other Darkspawn, dead, lay on the ground, and
his companions are covered in the same blood. “Well,” he says, annoyed by how
high-pitched and scared his voice sounds. “They certainly are...Interesting.”
Mary looks at her killed darkspawn, which is a combination of burned and frozen
in mangled bits on the ground. “Indeed.” She pokes it with her boot.
Alistair chuckles, eying his bloody sword. “Let’s keep moving,” he says.
***
Getting four vials of darkspawn blood turned out to be harder than expected.
The good news was that Raven found that flower for the houndmaster. He finds he
rather likes his companions, especially Alistair and Mary. Jory rubbed him the
wrong way occasionally, but he was a good man, if dense.
Walking into the ruins made Raven nervous. He approaches the broken chest
first, poking at it with a gloved hand. He frowns. It’s completely empty.
“Well, well. What have we here?” A woman’s voice snaps him out of it and he
jumps to his feet, ready to draw his sword if she proved to be dangerous. “Are
you a vulture, I wonder?” Raven falls to Mary’s side, the two of them
exchanging a glance while Jory, Alistair, and Daveth shifted behind them. “A
scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones are long since clean?” She steps
down from the ruins and comes to stand in front of them, folding her arms. “Or
are you simply an intruder? Come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in
search of easy prey?” Her eyes are gold, incredible and beautiful. Her hair is
long and pulled into a messy bun, her skin pale and fair. She wears a rather
revealing outfit, a staff resting in a sheath on her back. “What say you, hmn?
Scavenger, or intruder?”
“Neither.” Raven folds his arms, eying the woman down. “The Grey Wardens once
owned this tower.”
“‘Tis a tower no longer. The wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated
corpse,” the woman says calmly, looking him in the eye. He kinda likes her.
Kind of.  “I have watched your progress for some time. ‘Where do they go,’ I
wonder. ‘Why are they here?’ And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so
long.” She walks past them, leaning on a tree across from them. They all turn
to face her, lined up in a sort of straight line. “Why is that?”
“Don’t answer her. She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby,”
Alistair hisses from his side. Daveth and Jory nod frantically, while Raven and
Mary give them a simultaneous sceptical look.
“Oh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?” The woman asks dryly,
pushing off the tree to throw her hands in the air dramatically. Raven resists
the urge to laugh.
“Yes,” Alistair hisses, eyes narrowing. “Swooping...Is…  bad.”  This time,
Raven does give a soft chuckle under his breath.
“She’s the witch of the wild she is!” Daveth snaps, tense and frightened. Raven
is pretty sure his eyes roll back into his head. “She’ll turn us all into
toads!”
“For a witch she sure is polite,” Raven remarks dryly. “If she really is a
witch, do you think it’s the best idea to piss her off?”
Daveth looks at him open mouthed while the woman throws her head back and
laughs. “Now here is a smart man. Witch of the Wilds, eh? Such idle fantasies,
these tales. Have you no minds of your own?”
“My only problem with you is that I don’t know you,” Mary says calmly, leaning
on a pillar.
The woman chuckles.  “Wise.” She turns to Raven. “You do not frighten like
these little boys. Tell me your name, and I shall tell you mine.”
“You may call me Raven,” Raven introduces himself calmly, still meeting the
womans eyes. “A pleasure to meet you.” He gives a small half-bow.
“Now, that is a proper, civil greeting! Even here, in the wilds. You may call
me Morrigan, if you wish.” She folds her arms and leans on the tree, staring
into the distance. “Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that
chest, something that is...here no longer?”
“Here no longer?” Alistair bristles. “You stole it, didn’t you? You’re some
kind of...sneaky...witch thief!”
“How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?” Morrigan glares.
“Quite easily it would seem,” Alistair growls. “Those documents are Grey Warden
property and I suggest you return them.”
“I will not, for t’was not I who removed them,” Morrigan snaps, narrowing her
golden eyes at Alistair. “Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if
you wish,  I  am not threatened.”
“If you did not remove them, then may I ask if you know who did?” Raven asks
calmly, maintaining his politeness as Morrigan seemed to appreciate that.
“‘T’was my mother, in fact,” Morrigan replies.
“Your mother?” Marilyn demands, face scrunching. “Is this some kind of joke?”
Raven waves her off, sending her a look.
“Can you take us to her?” Raven asks  Morrigan.
Morrigan sighs. “There is a sensible request.” She smiles at him. “I like you.”
“I’d be careful. First, it’s ‘I like you.’ Then  zap.  Frog time,” Alistair
mutters to him, arms crossed.
“She’ll put us all in the pot, she will!” Daveth squeaks to his left. “Just you
watch!”
“If the pot is warmer than this forest, it’ll be a nice change,” Jory grumbles.
***
The small hut in the forest is almost homey, an old woman standing in front of
it. “Greetings, Mother. I bring you five grey wardens who-” Morrigan’s mother
cuts her off.
“I see them, girl,” Morrigan’s mother mutters. “Mm. Much as I expected.”
“Right,” Raven grunts, taking a leaf out of his hair and narrowing his eyes at
the thing. “Well, could we have our treaties? I’d like to get out of this
forest soon.”
Morrigan’s mother throws her head back and laughs, while Marilyn elbows him
hard. He arches an eyebrow at her and shrugs. “You, young man, are quite
blunt.” The woman has scraggly white hair and dark eyes, her skin pale. “I like
it.” Her eyes twinkle as she gives a toothy grin.
“Are we actually supposed to believe you were expecting us?” Alistair says
grumpily.
“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight,
or open one’s arms wide, either way, one’s a fool!” Morrigan’s mother cackles
as she speaks, grinning even wider.
“She’s a witch, I tell you! We shouldn’t be talking to her!” Daveth hisses.
“Quiet, Daveth!” Jory snaps. “If she’s really a witch, do you really want to
make her mad?”
“There is a smart man. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but it
is not I who decides. Believe what you will.” The woman smiles, and her teeth
are strangely white as snow. She directs her gaze to Raven and Marilyn. “And
what of you? Do your elven and female minds give you different viewpoints? Or
do you believe as the others do?”
“I am no fool, if that’s what you're asking,” Marilyn snaps, eyes narrowing.
Raven steps in there, putting a hand on Marilyn’s shoulder. “I don’t know what
to believe, other than you have something we need.”  ‘I also believe that I
want to get the fuck out of this cold-ass forest,’  his mind whispers
helpfully.
“A statement that holds more wisdom then it implies. Be always aware...or is it
oblivious? I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain, and yet I
believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!” The woman rambles and Raven arches an
eyebrow.
“So this is the dreaded Witch of the Wilds?” Alistair half-whispers to Raven,
smirking.
“Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such
tales, although she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon!”
The woman cackles again.
“They did not come to hear your wild tales, Mother,” Morrigan mutters, hand
falling down her face slowly.
“True. They came for their treaties, yes?” The woman says, suddenly focused
again. Raven breathes a sigh of relief. “And before you begin barking, your
precious seal wore off long ago. I protected these.” She walks away to her hut,
bringing the rolled papers back in her hand. She doesn’t hand them off yet.
“You...! Oh.” Alistair slowly relaxes. “You..protected them,” he says, sounding
stunned.
“And why not? Take these to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this blight’s
threat is greater than they realize,” she growls, her eyes suddenly going dark.
Raven shifts, then stumbles when she grabs his hand and pulls him close,
opening his palm and pressing the treaties into his hand. She leans close and
whispers in a hushed voice, “As this blight rages to destroy this world, a
warrior will emerge from the ruins.” She grips his wrist even tighter, making
his heart pound uncomfortably. There’s an urgency shining in her eyes, one that
makes Raven want to run for the hills. “There is a darkness in you, Raven. It
may be your only weapon. Use it.  Wield  it.” Her voice drops even lower so
that only he can hear her. “Or it will consume you.”
She loosens her grip and Raven takes the opportunity to yank backwards, eyes
wide.  What the fuck?  He shoves the treaties into Alistair’s hands and folds
both of his arms tightly against his chest, heart still pounding so loud he
thinks everyone must hear it. All of his companions are staring either at him
or at the woman. He rubs his wrist, frowning. He feels like someone just
reached into him and ransacked his fucking soul. It’s a weird feeling. “Uh…”
Marilyn speaks now, shifting herself.
“Oh, do not mind me!” She laughs and Raven suddenly feels like she’s much more
dangerous then she implies. “You have what you came for!” More laughter.
“Time for you to go then.” Even Morrigan looks uncomfortable, frowning.
“Do not be ridiculous girl, these are your guests!”
“Very well.” Morrigan sounds like she would rather be anywhere other than right
here at this time. “I will show you out of the woods. Follow me.”
As they walk away, Marilyn leans close and whispers, “The fuck was that woman
on about with darkness and shit?”
“Fuck if I know,” Raven mutters, still holding himself, feeling kinda sick
after all that. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”
***
It’s dark once they return to Ostagar, and there’s a decidedly unsettling
feeling in his stomach. Once he delivered that flower to the houndmaster, Raven
follows the rest back to Duncan, letting Daisy rub up against his legs as she
sits down between him and Marilyn. As soon as he confirmed to Duncan that they
were successful in their journey, Duncan wants to head out. However, the four
recruits weren’t having any of it. Actually, Raven just wants to get this
started. Its Marilyn, Daveth, and Jory who were still uneasy.
“And what if we have second thoughts?” Mary says softly, looking Duncan in the
eyes.
“Let me be very clear on that point.” Duncan looks them all in the eye at least
once, Raven leaning on a pillar with his arms folded, Mary staring Duncan down
as if to issue a challenge, Daveth shifting uncomfortably and Jory looking like
he’s about to piss himself. “You are not volunteers. Weather conscripted or
recruited, you were chosen because  you  are needed. There is no turning back
now. You must gather your courage for what comes next.”
“Courage?” Daveth squeaks. “Just how much danger are we in?”
“I will not lie. We Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become who we are. Fate
may decree that you pay your price now rather than later.” Duncan says darkly.
Raven stares at the ground, thinking of Shianni, Soris, of his father and of
his home. Then, very calmly and quietly, he says, “Whatever price I have to pay
doesn’t matter.” He lifts his head, hair falling into his eyes. He knows how
dark they must look. Shianni once told him that when he gets scarily-determined
about something, his entire demeanor changes. “I want to help people.” He looks
out over the ruins, frowning deeper. “I want to stop this blight in whatever
way I can.”
Duncan looks at him and smiles, looking almost proud. Raven feels kinda warm at
that. It also seems to make Daveth and Jory shut up, and Marilyn pats him on
the shoulder, nodding at Duncan.
***
The temple they arrive at is old and kinda creepy, Raven rubbing his arms.
Daisy had been ordered to wait by the fire, and it was just the four recruits
right then and Alistair as Duncan got ready. “The more I hear about this
joining, the less I like it,” Jory mutters. “Why all these damned tests?!
Haven’t I earned my place?”
“Maybe it’s tradition. Maybe they're just trying to annoy you,” Daveth snarks.
“Calm down,” Raven grumbles.
“I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had
warned me...It just doesn’t seem fair,” Jory hisses through gritted teeth.
“Why would you join the Grey Wardens if there was that much at stake?” Raven
snaps, patience with Jory quickly coming to an end. “Grey Wardens are all about
sacrifice. What did you think it would take, a swing of your sword and then the
blight was gone?” He glares. “You had a choice in joining, and you didn’t take
the time to calculate the risks that came with doing so. At least try to act
like you care about this cause.”
“I’d sacrifice everything if I knew it would end the blight,” Daveth mutters.
“Agreed,” Raven says, looking at the night sky. “We’re fighting for a lot more
than us, Jory. The whole world is at stake here.”
“Maybe you’ll die,” Daveth growls to Jory. “Maybe we’ll all die. If nobody
stops the darkspawn, we’ll die for sure.”
“Well said,” Raven murmurs.
Marilyn, who had been quiet up until now, says softly, “It doesn’t matter
anyway. We’re here and we must do what needs to be done. Now shut up already.
You’re givin’ me a headache.” Raven chuckles quietly.
He turns his head as Duncan approaches, speaking. “At last we come to the
joining. The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight, when humanity
stood on the verge of annihilation.” Raven feels a shiver run through him at
those words, watching Duncan approach a silver cup sitting on a stone table.
“So it was that the first Grey Warden’s drank Darkspawn blood,  and mastered
their taint.” Raven exchanges a glance with Marilyn, swallowing hard.
If that’s the price I have to pay, then so be it,  his mind whispers.
“We’re going to drink the blood of those...creatures?” Jory’s voice is shaking
again, rising just slightly.
“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you.” Duncan’s voice
is low, hushed, but firm.
Raven distantly realizes he should be scared but...He isn’t. He feels more
certain in what he’s doing than he ever has in his life. He knows, somehow, he
just  knows  this is exactly what he’s meant to do. He glances up as Duncan
adds, “ This  is the source of our power and our victory.”
“Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint,” Alistair says
softly, eyes darting from face to face. “We can sense it in the darkspawn, and
use  it to slay the archdemon.”
Raven nods, looking at the other recruits. Jory looks terrified; Daveth looks
like he is trying his best not to be; and Marilyn looks nothing if not
determined. “We speak only a few words prior to the joining.” Duncan looks
Raven in the eye for a moment, before moving onto the other three. “But these
words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?”
Alistair nods and lowers his head as if to say a prayer, voice dropped to a low
murmur. “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand,
vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.” Raven twitches
as a shudder run through him. He can almost feel the power rippling through the
air around him. Somehow he feels more than knows that these aren’t just words.
“And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and
that one day,  we  will join  you.”  Raven looks at the silver cup,
determination flooding his veins.
This is what I am meant to do. I know it.
Alistair looks up again, honey brown eyes somber. Duncan had turned away and he
picks up the cup, turning to them. “Daveth, step forward.”
Daveth obeys, taking the cup from Duncan. Raven watches, his heartbeat sounding
incredibly loud in his ears. Daveth takes a deep breath and takes a gulp from
the cup, his fingers trembling around the silver.
Duncan takes the cup back and steps back, watching. Daveth starts stumbling,
convulsing, his hand coming up to cling to his hair as his chest heaves as if
he’s going to throw up. His head snaps up again and his eyes have turned a
glossy white. He hears Jory hiss a curse to his right, Marilyn sucking in a
sharp breath and stumbling back. Daveth cups his throat, falling to the ground,
choking, sounding as if he can’t get any air back in, and then he falls fully.
“I am sorry, Daveth,” Duncan murmurs, as Daveth gives a final twitch before
falling still.
“Step forward, Jory.” Raven is still staring at Daveth, and finally tears his
gaze away to look at Jory, who’s pulling out his sword.
“But… I have a wife, a child! Had I known…” Jory’s voice is shaking, his eyes
wide.
“There is no turning back.”
“No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!” Jory squeaks, his eyes wide
as he backs away, sword held in a defensive position.
Duncan slowly sets the cup down and draws his own dagger, walking forward.
Raven closes his eyes and clenches his fists. It’s only a few seconds of
fighting until there’s a squelch of blade hitting flesh and Duncan’s voice, “I
am sorry.”
When Raven opens his eyes again, Jory is on the ground, blood pooling around
him. Marilyn hasn’t moved from her position at his side, though he registers
that her hand is clinging to his upper arm, tight and harsh. He gives her a
questioning look, noticing his own hands are trembling.
“Trying not to light anything on fire,” she whispers as an explanation.
“The joining is not yet complete.” Duncan turns to them both, holding the cup.
“You are both called upon to submit yourselves to the greater good.” Marilyn
lets go of him and reaches, taking the cup with shaking hands. Raven finds
himself praying, which he hasn’t done in years.
Please, for the love of the Maker. I don’t want another good person dying.
Please let her be strong enough.
She takes it in one rough gulp, her eyes closing. She shoves it back in
Duncan’s hand and stumbles back. His stomach lurches. Her eyes turn white like
Daveth’s, but she doesn’t start choking; she just stumbles and falls, both
Raven and Alistair hurrying to catch her, Alistair beating him too it.
“She’s still breathing.” Alistair lets out a sigh of relief as he says this and
Raven’s shoulders slump.
“Thank the Maker,” he murmurs, then turns as Duncan hands the cup to him.
Duncan doesn’t say anything, just looks him in the eye and nods. He takes the
cup, staring at the swirling, black contents.
He puts it to his lips, tilts his head back, and gulps.
It tastes disgusting, making him gag as he hands  it back and stumbles, nearly
falling. A indescribable pain shoots through him, his head feeling like it’s
been split open. He can’t hear anything anymore, barely registers his own hands
holding his head.
‘ Green, dark against the sky...I’m floating. Where am I? Dragon--no, not
dragon--  archdemon -- i t roars, I can smell it’s breath, I can’t breathe,
can’t think, no, no, no, no--!’
Everything goes black.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos, comments, bookmarks/subscriptions will always make my day.
     Thank you so much for reading! Btw, side note, dreams will always be
     in First Person POV. :)
***** Betrayal *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     The Darkspawn battle begins, shit goes down, and things are looking
     grim for our elfy Warden!
Chapter Notes
     Okay so like I fucking hate this chapter :> The only thing I like
     about this chapter is Raven, Marilyn, and Alistair being a couple of
     salty bitches at the beginning. Just a note in case you picked up on
     the change of pace: I realized that in general those reading this
     have played DA:O and know what's going on, and those who haven't
     (*cough* my friends i've forced to read this so that I don't panic
     and stop writing it bc I think its garbage) are more intrested in
     seeing Raven's character then anything else. So, for the future, i'm
     probably going to just summarize the events of quests until we get to
     big events and/or interactions with other characters. Such as the
     first time we meet Conner in Redcliffe. The main focus will be on
     interactions with characters, Raven himself, and occasianally, Raven
     being a shipping fuck in the corner.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
When Raven wakes up, his heart is pounding and his head fucking hurts. He sits
up, Duncan, Marilyn, and Alistair peering over him. “You okay?” Marilyn asks
before the other two can speak, blue eyes concerned. He nods, stumbling as she
and Alistair help him up, holding his head.
“It is done. You are both Grey Wardens now,” Duncan says calmly, watching them
both.
“Two more deaths.” Alistair sounds sad, a little lost. “During my joining, only
one of us died, but it was...horrible. I’m glad you both made it through.” He
smiles at them and Raven musters up enough strength to smile back.
“How do you feel?” Duncan’s quiet voice draws Raven’s attention to him.
“Like someone just dropped a house on me,” Raven mutters.
Both Alistair and Marilyn chuckle, the latter of which grinning and muttering,
“Me too.” Even Duncan gives a tiny smile.
“Did you have dreams too?” Marilyn asks. “I had terrible dreams.”
Raven chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, which had started to unravel
from its tight braid. He starts to braid it again as he says, “I’ve had worse.”

Marilyn blinks and then chuckles, saying, “Andraste’s tits, what kind of dreams
are you having? You must be eating some weird shit before bed.”
Both him and Alistair laugh at that. Duncan is quiet as he says, “Dreams like
the ones you had come when you begin to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That
and many other things can be explained in the months to come.” Raven frowns,
tying his hair off with a small cloth. For some reason, he feels like they
don’t have the months to wait.
“Before I forget, there is one last part to the joining,” Alistair says. “We
take some of the blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us of...of
those who didn’t make it this far.” Raven nods. Alistair hands both him and
Marilyn one, and they both slip the pendants over their heads.
“Take some time. When you are ready, i’d like you to accompany me to a meeting
with the king.” The last bit is directed at him, and Raven frowns, wondering
silently, ‘Why would he want me at the meeting? Alistair or Marilyn would be
much better suited. It's not like I have any idea how to act around nobles.’
Still, he nods. “Very well.”
“The meeting is to the west, down the stairs. Please attend as soon as you are
able.” Duncan turns and walks away, leaving the three left to gather their
senses.
Raven nearly jumps out of his skin when Marilyn’s hand comes down heartily on
his shoulder. “Well,” she says with all the false cheer of someone who’s fully
prepared to cover up how they just went through hell. “That certainly was an
adventure.”
Raven laughs, near hysterics. His stomach is rolling and his chest feels tight,
his breath coming a little faster than what he was comfortable with. “Right,”
he mutters, leaning against one of the pillars as he tries to calm himself
down.
Alistair smiles at them both, running a hand through his hair. Raven notices
blandly that both Jory and Daveth’s bodies are gone, and he asks, “How long was
I out?”
“About an hour, a little longer than Mary,” Alistair replies. “Anyway, you
should probably get to that meeting. You might miss it; Calian would cry; you’d
feel bad, and it’d just be a big mess.” Mirth twinkles in his eyes again as he
attempts to lighten the mood, and it works, both Mary and Raven chuckling.
“We wouldn’t want that.” Raven sighs, “I don’t understand why Duncan wants me
there of all people, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Marilyn smiles and
ruffles his hair, making him grunt in disapproval as she and Alistair head off.
Raven takes a moment to himself, leaning heavily on the pillar and rubbing his
aching head. ‘Who would’ve guessed? Me. A Grey Warden. Maker, this whole thing
is insane.’ A dry laugh escapes him. ‘Wonder what Cafias would have to say
about this.’ Immediately, his stomach turns at the thought of his childhood
torment, and he shakes his head, trying to shake memories of the man out of
him. He hates how he always thinks on what happened, wishing he could just
forget about it already and move on.
With that at the back of his mind, Raven finally manages to gather himself
enough to go down the steps and follow Duncan’s directions to the meeting.
Almost as soon as he approaches the meeting table, he hears Calians voice,
sounding on the verge of angry. “Loghain, my decision is final.” There’s that
Loghain name again. “I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault.”
As Raven goes around the table to join Duncan, he studies Calian and a new man,
presumably Loghain. Loghain looks worn and pissed, his lips set in a thin line
and his jaw clenched. His black hair is shoulder length and his eyes a dark,
boiling brown. He’s the picture of the type of man Raven avoids, nowadays.
Angry, imposing, and dangerous. “You risk too much, Calian!” He growls. His
voice is low and gravelly, and tinged with a mixture of anger and concern. “The
darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front
lines.”
Raven would feel sorry for him, if everything about the man wasn’t setting him
on edge. Ever since Cafias, he’s learned to trust that little nagging instinct
in the back of his mind that he completely ignored as a child.
“If that’s the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orleasian forces to join us
after all,” Calian counters, Raven surprised by how ice-cold his voice is.
“I must repeat my protests to your fool notions that we need the Orleasians to
defend ourselves,” Loghain growls. Raven crosses his arms from where he sits
beside Duncan. The war with the Orleasians wasn’t too long ago if he’s
remembering right. Loghain looks just old enough to have been in it.
“It is not a ‘fool notion’; our arguments with the Orleasians are a thing of
the past...And you will remember who is King.” Calian’s eyes narrow and Raven
is faintly impressed.
“How fortunate that Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Fereldan
over to the ones who enslaved us for a century!” Loghain growls, massaging his
forehead.
“Then our current forces will have to suffice, won’t they?” Calian turns away
to face Duncan and Raven, asking, “Duncan, are your men ready for battle?”
“They are, your majesty,” Duncan replies smoothly.
“And this is the young met from Denerim I met earlier?” Calian turns his golden
gaze to him and Raven nods. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you, your Majesty,” Raven mumbles, shifting uncomfortably. He doesn’t
like every pair of eyes around the table focused on him, and he certainly
doesn’t like Loghain’s scrutinizing glare.
“Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks.”
Calian smiles.
“I am,” Raven assures, hoping the attention will turn elsewhere, and fast.
“Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Calian. We must
attend to reality,” Loghain snaps sharply.
“Fine. Speak your strategy,” Calian grumbles. “The Grey Wardens and I draw the
darkspawn into charging our lines, and then…?” Calian leans over a map, and
Loghain joins him.
“You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge from
cover,” Loghain replies, eyes narrowing.
“To flank the darkspawn, I remember. This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins,
yes? Who shall light this beacon?” Calian tilts his head.
“I have a few men stationed there. It is not a dangerous task, but it is
vital.” Calian nods when Loghain finishes speaking.
“Then we should send our best. Send Alistair and Raven to make sure that it is
done.” Raven frowns.
“Very well, your majesty.” Raven wants to be fighting in the battle, but he’d
rather not argue with a King.
“You rely on these Grey Wardens too much,” Loghain mutters, not as quiet as he
thinks he is. Raven’s ears twitch.“Is that truly wise?”
“Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain,” Calian snaps. “Grey Wardens
battle the blight, no matter where they’re from.”
‘Hello, yes, we’re right in front of you two. You can act like it now,’ Raven
thinks bitterly, ears twitching more.
“Your Majesty, you should consider the possibility of an Archdemon appearing,”
Duncan interjects, frowning.
“There have been no signs of any dragon in the wilds,” Loghain says.
“Is that not what your people are here for, Duncan?” Calian asks.
“I… yes, your Majesty.” Duncan sighs.
‘Idiots. Yes, because a handful of people can kill a unexpected Dragon on our
own. Great plan.’ Raven sighs, feeling his ears press against his head.
“Your majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary.” A man who had been
silent before suddenly speaks up. “The circle of Magi--”
“We will not risk any lives for your spells, mage!” A chantry woman hisses,
“Save them for the darkspawn.”
“Enough!” Loghain snaps. “This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light
the beacon.”
“Thank you, Loghain.” Calian’s voice takes on a dreamy quality. “I cannot wait
for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king to stem the
tide of evil.”
Loghain turns away and starts walking, but the way he speaks his next words
sends shivers down Raven’s spine. “Yes, Calian. A glorious moment for us all.”
***
“You heard the plan. You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure
the Beacon is lit,” Duncan says as they approach Alistair and Marilyn. The
latter of which is lounging on the ground with her arm around Daisy, looking
tense.
“What?” Alistair’s head snaps up from where he was talking to Marilyn. “I won’t
be in the battle?”
“This is by the King’s personal request, Alistair. If the Beacon is not lit,
Teryn Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.” Duncan sounds tired as he
stands in front of the three of them. Marilyn rises to her feet, looking at
them both.
“So he needs two Gray Wardens there holding up the torch. Just in case, right?”
Alistair asks dryly.
“I agree with Alistair,” Raven sighs. “We should be in the battle.” Alistair
gives a firm nod.
“That is not your choice. If King Calian wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the
beacon is lit, the Grey Wardens will be there.” Duncan fixes them both with a
firm glare, which quite makes Raven feel like he’s being scolded by his father.
“We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn...exciting or not.”
“I get it, I get it.” Alistair sighs. “Just so you know, if the king ever asks
me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I’m drawing the line. Darkspawn or
not.”
Raven snorts and Mary giggles, giving a dry, “I think I’d like to see that.”
Alistair looks at her and gives a goofy half-grin. “For you, maybe.”
“I don’t know, that could be a great distraction. I see you in a bright gold
dress with flowers and sparkles.” Raven says sarcastically. “Could leave the
Darkspawn so confused and scared that they go running back into the wilds.”
Alistair laughs. “Yes, or my shimmying down the Darkspawn line makes them laugh
so much that it’s easy to kill them.” Raven laughs as well, Marilyn snorting.
Duncan lets out a long-suffering sigh.
Duncan turns to him and Alistair and gives them directions on where to go and
what to do, and Raven asks, “What do we do if the Archdemon appears?”
“We soil our pants, that’s what,” Alistair replies simply. Raven snorts.
“If it does, I want no heroics from either of you. Leave it to us,” Duncan says
firmly. “Other
then that, do what you must. I trust you both.” Raven feels more elated than he
should at that.
“Just not enough to actually fight with the rest of you,” Alistair grumbles.
Duncan chuckles softly and says, “There will be plenty of battles, Alistair. Be
patient.”
“I know what we have to do.” Raven nods, running a hand through his hair and
braiding it again with nimble fingers.
“Then we must join the others.” Duncan smiles at them, nodding to Marilyn.
“From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Gray Wardens. I
expect you to be worthy of that title.”
“Duncan…” Alistair frowns and shifts, then looks at Marilyn, who gives him a
gentle smile. “May the Maker watch over you both.”
“May He watch over us all,” Duncan murmurs, turning and walking away.
Marilyn turns to them and grabs each of their hands in her own. “Good luck.”
She
whispers, before letting go and trotting after Duncan with Daisy. Raven smiles
softly.
“You too,” He and Alistair echo at the same time.
***
The path to the tower is filled with Darkspawn, Raven and Alistair sticking
close together during the battles that follow. By the time they reach the
broken Tower, both of them are covered in blood. Several men are fleeing from
the building, one of which shouting that the Tower had been taken. Alistair
demands explanation and receives the answer that the Tower was swarming with
Darkspawn. Alistair and Raven look at each other, frowning.
Pushing open the heavy door, Raven lets Alistair in and then follows him,
holding tight to his bloody sword. The entire tower is swarming with Darkspawn,
and by the time their climbing the stairs to the second floor, Raven feels weak
and dizzy. He’s never fought that much in his life, and Darkspawn are much
tougher than the guards in the palace in Denerim. Alistair looks at him and
asks, “Need a moment?”
Raven pulls out a canteen from his bag and drinks a bit of water, shaking his
head. “We don’t have the time. Let’s keep moving.”
By the third level, Alistair seems as exhausted as him. “Maker’s Breath. What
are all theses darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn’t
supposed to be any resistance here!” Raven takes the opportunity to lean on the
wall for support.
“Weren’t you complaining that we wouldn’t get to fight?” Raven asks dryly while
downing the rest of his water.
Alistair gives an exhausted laugh. “Hey, your right! I guess there is a silver
lining here, if you think about it. At any rate, we need to hurry! We need to
get to the top of the tower and light the signal fire on time. Without it,
Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.”
Raven gives a short nod and pushes himself off the wall, heading deeper into
the tower. The more of the tower they explore, the creepier and more darkspawn-
infested it gets. The two have finally reached the stairs to the top level and
they start running up the stairs, exchanging glances at the sounds of growling
and snarling.
The thing in front of them is at least eight feet tall, with horns that account
for another two feet. Its chest is bare but the rest of its body is covered in
strange, jagged armor. Blood and some kind of liquid fall out of its mouth as
it turns to them, pieces of flesh sticking to its long, jagged teeth. It roars,
making the whole room shake.
“What the fuck is that?!” Raven shouts, staring at the terrifying creature in
front of the two Wardens.
“Ogre!” Alistair shouts back as it starts marching forward. The two run to the
side when it swings at them, and Raven growls.
“How the hell do we kill that fucker?!” He cries as they dodge another attack.
The Ogre’s swishing is far too close to his skin for comfort, and he can feel
the strange air coming from the swing. The ogre snarls and attacks again, and
Raven squeaks, leaping to one side. His heart is pounding. He’s never even
imagined something like this, much less how to fight it.
“I don’t know!” Alistair squeaks as he leaps to the other side, shield raised
high. Raven adjusts his grip on the sword and runs forward while the Ogre
focuses on Alistair, swinging and wincing as the sword clatters against armor,
making a loud noise.
Before Raven even processes what just happened, a large, clawed hand reaches
down and grabs him, sending him flying at an almost terrifying speed. Raven’s
stomach drops and his sword flies from his hand as he slams against the
opposite wall. He falls to the ground with a pained grunt, chest heaving as
pain makes his mind go white for a moment. He gathers himself as quickly as he
can, looking up and wincing as the world dips and sways. He sees Alistair
fighting and looks around, grabbing a sword that lays nearby and scrambling to
his feet. He runs towards the Ogre and leaps up, grabbing onto the first thing
he finds: a piece of Jagged armor on it’s back.
The Ogre roars and thrashes, but Raven stabs his sword into a piece of exposed
flesh. He struggles at first, the skin though and hard to break through, but he
succeeds, and uses the sword to hold on. He hears Alistair attacking below him,
the Ogre letting out bellows of pain. Raven hoists himself up, replacing his
hand with his foot on the piece of armor and stabbing another piece of flesh.
His ears are ringing to the point where most everything else is drowned out,
but he keeps climbing up the Ogre’s back, feeling sick as it thrashes and
snarls and tries to reach him. Finally, he reaches the beast’s neck, and with
more finesse than he realized he possesses, he stabs the Ogre’s neck and spins
onto its front, grunting as it falls. Both him and Alistair stab its chest
until it stops moving, and Raven rolls off and onto the ground, his breath hard
and choppy.
“I’ll light the Beacon,” Alistair grunts, stumbling over to the other side of
the room. Raven, however, focuses on getting up, pushing himself off the ground
and standing wobbily. The room spins and he narrows his eyes trying to get it
to stop, body thrumming with pain. He touches his chest and winces, quickly
coming to the conclusion that something, maybe several somethings, are broken
there. His hands are bleeding, he realizes distantly, and he feels more bruised
then a practice dummy.
The room is filled with heat as a fire roars, and Raven moves away from that
dizzily, breathing hard. Alistair comes to his side, holding his stomach as
blood drips to the ground. “You okay?” He asks.
Raven laughs dryly, sounding hysterical even to his own ears. “What the fuck
even happened?” He asks weakly.
Alistair laughs, opening his mouth to respond when the door was thrown off its
hinges and darkspawn poured into the room. Raven curses and grabs a sword,
Alistair immedaitly attacking the nearest. An arrow pierces Raven’s side and he
cries out, the world dipping and swaying before everything around him goes
entirely pitch black.
***
The heat of the battle is intense, Darkspawn practically pouring out of the
wilds to fill the ruins of Ostagar. Marilyn takes down another Darkspawn,
looking around quickly and realizing with a sinking feeling how little men
there were compared to the darkspawn. The smell of death and blood floods her
senses, making her feel sick, but she throws another fireball at a charging
darkspawn and tries to keep calm. The blast of fire keeps the darkspawn off her
for a few moments, allowing her to gather herself again. Her body is soaked
with blood--Both darkspawn and human-- and she imagines the only thing keeping
her moving is adrenaline. Breathing is hard, and blood slips down her chest
from a cut too close to her neck for comfort. She looks up to the tower of
Ishal, smiling with something akin to hope when she sees the fire burning at
the top of the tower.
She launches back into battle, certain that at any moment Teryn’ Loghain’s men
would be pouring into the battlefield, causing the odds to be even once more.
She blasts a group of darkspawn to a pile of rubble, freezing them there, then
she hears a cry of pain. She turns her head, and feels a sick jolt when she
sees King Calian. He’s held in the hand of one of the ogre’s, and then blood
splatters as the ogre shoves all five of its claws into Calian’s body.
Marilyn’s eyes widen as Calian is thrown to the side carelessly, and then she’s
buried under darkspawn once again.
It only takes a few moments of fighting for her to be able to see Duncan
leaping onto the Ogre’s chest, stabbing and twisting his swords into its flesh.
She sends another Darkspawn flying, stabbing another behind her. The Ogre’s
cries of pain fill the entire battlefield and she allows herself a vicious
grin. Then she looks over when it falls and Duncan is doubling over.
“Duncan!” She screams, starting to make her way over. He looks at her,
stumbling off the Ogre and to Calians side. She looks up at the tower of Ishal
and her stomach lurches.
‘Loghain isn’t coming.’ She realizes.
The last of the army starts falling around her, and before she can get to
Duncan, a darkspawn’s axe slices through his neck.
She screams, then looks around. ‘Fuck. Fuck!’ A panicked sound escapes her and
then fire engulfs her and the surrounding area. Taking the opportunity, she
starts running out of the ruins and to the wilds. She has to warn people. She
has to do something. She can’t take down the entire darkspawn horde by herself.
Maybe no one can stop this.
Chapter End Notes
     Just another note. Scenes like with Marilyn at the end will be in
     italics. Unless its POV zevran.
     also how many of you had a heart attack thinking Marilyn was gonna
     die in the battle? Let me know in the comments please! <3 Love any
     who've bookmarked/subscribed. Don't be shy to say something! Please
     do, comments make my day!!!
***** The Aftermath of Ostagar *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     Raven is scared an uncertain after Ostagar, and thinks there's no way
     in hell they can take down the Darkspawn on their own. Flemeth and
     Alistair give him some hope, and Marilyn fights her way through the
     wilds.
     Also, puppies.
Chapter Notes
     Woop woop! UPDATES! I am excite over this update because for once, I
     actually like my work! XD I tried to pour a lot of emotion into
     Raven's character with this one so uh, I hope you enjoy! In other
     news: Why does no one in Dragon age ever hug!? Hugging is important
     people! Hug! If I want to hug my friends i'm going to f u c k i n g h
     u g m y f r i e n d s.
     Raven however, is not much of a fan of unexpected affections. Maybe
     he'll get over that? Who knows. ;)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“I told you that running around at night was going to get you sick, didn’t I?”
Mama scolds, wiping my face with a cool cloth as I bury myself under the covers
and sniff.
“I’m fine, Mama,” I protest, sniffling again.
“Raven… What happened to us never lying to each other?” Mama looks sad and I
feel my stomach twist with guilt.
Cafias said that she’d get hurt if I told her, though.
“I’m not lying, Mama,” I murmur.
Mama sighs and runs a hand through my hair, then touches my cheek. “Raven,
sweetie. Why are you crying?”
“I’m not-” I gasp, sitting up as a fire ignites behind her. Then it starts
engulfing her, burning her. Her expression changes to one of pain and she asks,
“Why did you kill me?”
She burns up in the fire and I’m left floating in darkness, crying. Then I fall
down and look up, and Cafias is looking down at me--
Raven shoots up and immediately regrets that decision, groaning and holding his
stomach. He breathes hard, the remnants of his dream slowly fading as he
returns to reality. He feels like his body is on fire with pain and he groans.
A quick look down and he realizes he’s almost completely bare except for his
smallclothes. He also quickly realizes he’s covered in bruises. “What the-”
“Ah, your eyes finally open.” He nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns his
head to see a woman looking at a bookshelf against a wall. Raven shifts and
tries to cover himself, slowly registering that he knows the woman. “Mother
shall be pleased.”
“Morrigan,” he mumbles, mouth feeling dry. She comes to stand in front of him
and the urge to cover himself grows. He feels prickle after prickle of
discomfort run up his body as she peers at him. “Where am I?”
“Back in the wilds, of course. I have just finished bandaging your wounds.” The
woman smiles slightly, and he looks down again to see any scratches and cuts
from his battles are neatly patched. There's some kind of ointment on his
bruises as well.
“Oh… Um...Thank you,” he murmurs, still crossing his arms over his chest. “What
happened at Ostagar? Why am I here?”
Morrigan blushes slightly. “You are welcome.” Then she tsks. “So many
questions. Clearly, your memory does not fare well. Do you remember nothing of
Mother’s rescue?”
“The last thing I remember is Darkspawn swarming the tower.” Raven’s eyes close
and then pop back open again. He nearly shoots to his feet as he demands, “Is
Alistair here?! Is he okay?”
“The suspicious dim-witted one from before, yes. Mother managed to save you
both from the tower, though twas a close call. He’s outside,” Morrigan sighs,
and Raven feels a rush of relief. “As for what happened at Ostagar… The man who
was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won the battle.
Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend…. He is not taking it well.”
The relief he feels at Alistair being alive is quickly replaced by swirling
grief, anger, fear, and horror. Raven feels dizzy and sits down fully again,
swallowing down the bile rising in his chest. “Who would?” He feels tears sting
his eyes and he fights down a sob, knowing without being able to really admit
it that Duncan and Marilyn were dead. “Are there any survivors besides us?
Any?”
“Only stragglers that are long gone. You would not want to see what is
happening in that valley now,” Morrigan says softly.
Raven’s stomach lurches again and he has to take a moment, covering his mouth
and breathing deeply, trying to calm down. Morrigan waits, and he finally
manages to get it together. “Thanks for telling me,” he murmurs sincerely,
though his voice is rather weak.
She shifts, seeming uncomfortable. “You...Are welcome. Mother asked to see you
when you awoke,” she adds, quickly changing the subject.
He nods. “Is my armor near?” Morrigan nods and gestures to a chest on the end
of the bed, walking away to another part of the house.
He opens the chest, trying to calm the warring feelings of anger, anxiety, and
grief. He’s surprised to find not only his armor and underclothes in the chest,
but also his bag, damaged and bloodstained as it may be. He opens it, checking
the contents. Cyri, the elfroot charm, his clothes, his coin pouch and his
dagger sits inside. He spends more than a few minutes getting on his
underclothes and the difficult armor. It’s not like he’s ever worn the stuff
before yesterday, and having every movement accented with pain doesn’t exactly
make it any easier on him. He straps on the dagger, wishing he still had a
sword but not surprised it was lost.
His heart aches and feels heavy as he gets dressed, thoughts whirling. Emotions
war in his chest, fury and sorrow tugging simultaneously at his heart. He isn’t
sure if he’s grateful to be alive, or pissed he wasn’t in the battle to die
with the rest.  
This can’t be happening.
It had seemedlike a good plan.
Raven grits his teeth. Duncan didn’t deserve to die. Marilyn didn’t deserve to
fucking die.Not like that. If Loghain had charged with his men, they all
would’ve stood a chance. The Blight might’ve been stopped. There would be more
than two Wardens in Ferelden; Duncan and Marilyn might’ve made it out alive;
Ferelden would still have a fucking king--they could’ve stopped this before it
had even begun!
Fury wins and he growls under his breath, running a hand through his thick hair
and tugging on a handful of it.
‘I’m going to find Loghain and I’m going to fucking kill him.’
 
***

He finally walks out with damaged armor on and hair still a mess, spotting
Alistair standing with Morrigan's mother, staring into the pond. “See? Here is
your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man.” Morrigan’s mother
says. Raven avoids looking her in the eyes, instantly feeling uncomfortable
around the older woman.
Alistair turns to him and his face reflects his relief. “You’re… You’re alive!”
Alistair doesn’t hesitate and folds him into a quick hug. It takes every ounce
of will Raven has to not tense up and pull away, the unexpected physical
affection startling him. Instead, he pats Alistair’s back, pulling back when
Alistair does. “I thought for sure you were dead,” he says, looking just as
shell-shocked as Raven himself.
“I’m fine,” Raven murmurs. “You?” Alistair nods.
“This doesn’t feel real.” Alistair runs a hand through his hair and then down
his face, frowning. “If it weren’t for Morrigan’s mother, we’d be dead on top
of that tower.” He looks sad, lost, and Raven’s heart goes out to him.
“Do not talk of me as if I were not present, lad,” the woman says.
“I didn’t mean..” Alistair turns back to her. “I mean, what do we call you? You
never told us your name.”
“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chaisand folks call me Flemeth. I suppose
that will do,” Flemeth says with a sigh.
Raven is nonplussed, but Alistair seems distressed. “TheFlemeth, from the
legends?” The blonde asks. “Daveth was right--you're the witch of the wilds,
aren’t you?” Alistair accuses.
“And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both
well, has it not?” Flemeth snaps, and Raven cuts in.
“It doesn’t matter what or who she is.” Raven looks at Alistair, head still
spinning. “What in Andraste’s name are we going to do?” Raven demands.
“I don’t know.” Alistair slumps.
“It has always been the Grey Warden’s duty to unite the lands against the
darkspawn, or did that change when I wasn’t looking?” Flemeth asks.
“It changed when they all died!”Raven snarls, whirling on her. “Have you not
seen the Darkspawn horde? What the fuck do we do against that?!” He’s breathing
hard, and the bitterly familiar feeling of panic winds itself like a vice
around his chest. “I don’t know anything about being a Grey Warden. I don’t
know anything about politics or armies or anythinglike that.I’m fucking useless
in this entire Makerdamned scenario! What the fuck do you expect me to do?! I
haven’t even been in a real battle until a week ago. I’m some kid from the
Alienage in Denerim, who’s barely ventured outside of the city walls. I know
nothing!”
Alistair stares, but Flemeth seems unphased. “So you will just give up?”
“No!” Raven snarls. “I’m not going to give up!”
“It certainly seems like it. If you think small numbers make you helpless, then
you are already defeated.” Raven runs both hands through his hair and tugs
madly, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the pain anchor him back to
reality.
“I didn’t say we were helpless, ” Raven growls. “I’m saying how the hell are
two barely-experienced Grey Wardens going to go about defeating an entire
Darkspawn horde, and apparently, Loghain and hismen, who I seriously fucking
doubt will be happy to know we’re alive.” Raven opens his eyes eyes again,
trying to regain some sense of calm.
“Why would Loghain do this?” Alistair sounds distressed, running his own hand
through his hair. “It doesn’t make sense. What’s the point? What does he hope
to gain?”
“Now that is a good question.” Flemeth sighs. “Mens hearts hold shadows darker
than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Darkspawn is an army he can
outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see the evil behind it that is the true
threat.”
“The archdemon.” Alistair shudders.
“Indeed.” Flemeth nods, and Raven chews on his lip.
“Right. The giant dragon-like dead God behind it all,” Raven sighs, remembering
his mother’s lessons on Grey Wardens and Blights.
Alistair suddenly lights up. “Arl Eamon!”
“What?” Raven's eyebrows furrow, confusion lacing the word. 
“Of course! Arl Eamon wasn’t at the battle, he still has all his men!” Alistair
exclaims. “He was Calian’s uncle, if he knew what happened at Ostagar he would
call for Loghain’s execution!”
Despite the small slivers of worry at trusting another noble, Raven still feels
some quivers of hope as he straightens. “Arl Eamon…” Raven has to search his
mind for where he’s heard the name, then nods. “The Arl of Redcliffe, right? Do
you think he would help us?”
Alistair nods eagerly. “I know him. Eamon is a good man, respected by the
landsmeet and loved by the people. We can go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for
help!”
Another thought occurs to Raven and he deflates slightly. “Even if we can get
this Eamon on our side, do you really think that’ll be enough?” Alistair
deflates as well, and Flemeth speaks up.
“Surely there are other allies you could call on?” Flemeth suggests, and
Alistair lights up again.
“Of course!The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand help from dwarves, elves,
mages, and other places! They’re obligated to help us during a blight!”
Alistair looks excited, hopeful, and it's catching on. Raven lets a grin
spreads across his face as Flemeth says,
“I may be old, but Dwarves, elves, mages, this ‘Arl Eamon’, and who knows what
else, this certainly sounds like an army to me.” Flemeth smirks.
“So we can do this?” Alistair looks at him, almost as if he wants him to lead
the way. “Go to Redcliffe and these other places and...build an army?”
Raven steels himself and nods. “Yeah. Yeah. I think we can.” He smiles. “As
long as we don’t get brutally murdered along the way, we should be alright. I
mean. Why not? Isn’t that what Grey Wardens do?” He laughs nervously, fingers
twitching as he folds his arms.
“So you are set then?” Flemeth asks. “Ready to be Grey Wardens?”
Raven shifts, running a hand down his arm. “Ha. No. But I’m ready to try. Er…
Thank you, for everything, Flemeth,” he says, eying Flemeth warily. He still
feels uncomfortable after that fuckery back when he first met her. Maker, that
feels like it was so long ago and it was yesterday.
“Don’t be so quick. I have one more thing I can offer you,” Flemeth says
calmly, and almost as if on cue, Morrigan walks out of the cabin.
“The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Shall we have two guests for the eve, or
none?” The ravenette asks with a sigh.
“The Grey Warden’s are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them,”
Flemeth says with the kind of finality that suggests there is no arguing with
her.
“Such a shame--What?!” Morrigan’s voice raises in pitch and her eyes narrow.
“You heard me, girl. Last time I looked, you had ears.” Flemeth laughs.
Raven looks at Flemeth, and then at Morrigan. He had no doubt Morrigan would be
helpful, but he also has no interest in dragging an unreluctant mage along
across the country. “Thank you,” he says to Flemeth, then to Morrigan he says,
“But if you don’t wish to join us, you don’t need to.”
“Her magic will be useful,” Flemeth says. “Even better, she knows the wilds and
how to get past the horde.”
“Have I no say in this?” Morrigan snaps at her mother, bristling.
“You have been itching to get out of these wilds for years. Consider this your
chance. As for you, Warden's, consider this repayment for your lives.” Flemeth
looks directly at him.
Raven remains silent, working his jaw. It was clear Flemeth would not be moved
on this, and he wasn’t fighting Morrigan’s battles for her. “Not to...Look a
gift horse in the mouth, but won’t this add to our problems?” Raven looks up at
Alistair’s voice. “Out of the wilds, she’s an apostate.”
“If you do not want help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should
have left you in that tower.” Flemeth smirks and Alistair frowns.
“Point taken,” he mutters.
“Mother, this is not how I wanted this. I am not even ready--”
“You must be ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn.
They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will
perish under the blight, even I.” Flemeth stares her down, and Morrigan visibly
relents.
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Flemeth.’
“I...Understand,” Morrigan grumbles.
“And you, Grey Wardens? Do you understand? I give you that which I value above
all in this world. I do this because you mustsucceed,” Flemeth growls
vehemently, her eyes narrowing.
Raven nods. “I understand,” he says softly, itching to get back on the road.
“Allow me to get my things, if you please.” Morrigan turns and walks back to
the hut, clearly still reluctant and upset. Raven sighs and looks back at the
forest, frowning. A few minutes later, Morrigan steps out with a sigh. “I am at
your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of the wilds as our
first destination. ‘Tis not far, and you will find much you need there. Or, if
you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours.”
Raven shrugs. “I’d prefer you to speak your mind,” he responds honestly, and
resists the urge to roll his eyes when Flemeth cackles to his right.
“You will regret saying that,” Flemeth snickers.
Morrigan doesn’t refrain and rolls her eyes, turning to face her mother.
“Farewell, mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return
to a burned down hut.”
“Bah! ‘Tis far more likely you return to find this entire area, along with my
hut, swallowed up by the blight!” Flemeth snaps.  
“I... all I meant was…”
“I know. Do try to have fun, dear.” Flemeth gives a cat-like grin.
 
***
 
The sound of bushes moving and branches breaking draws Raven’s attention away
from Alistair and Morrigan’s bickering. “Hey!” He hisses almost silently,
elbowing Alistair, grabbing the senior Grey Warden’s attention. When he looks
at Raven, Raven nods to the area the sounds are coming from and mouths,
‘Darkspawn?’
Alistair tilts his head, then shakes it, following Raven’s gaze. Raven drags
his dagger out of its sheathe, and Alistair follows suit with his sword (It’s
not the same as it was at the battle-Raven faintly wonders where the hell the
other got it from). Morrigan pulls out her staff and Raven hears a crackle he
imagines to be magic.
“Fuck!” The familiar voice makes both Alistair and Raven suck in a breath, and
then a fireball shoots through the leaves and makes all three of them scramble
to the side.
When Raven looks up again, his eyes widen. Standing there, arm half raised and
hand still sizzling, is none other than Marilyn. Her eyes are wide and she’s
covered in blood as she holds her middle, which is bleeding profusely. Her hair
is tumbling over her shoulders, appearing singed and smoky. She appears to have
no weapons on her, and her armor is all but ruined.
Alistair gathers himself before Raven and leaps up. “Marilyn! You’re alive!” He
cries as he rushes to her side, looking at her worriedly. He goes to hug her,
then stops and just touches her shoulder, already rummaging in his pack,
presumably for bandages. Raven gets to his feet as well, brushing himself off.
Relief sets in at seeing his friend alive and well and he smiles at her.
“You look like hell,” he says, walking over to her and supporting her other
side as she laughs then falls. He catches her, along with Alistair, and the two
share a worried glance. “How the hell did you get out of the battle alive?”
“A lot of fire and a lot of blood, kid,” Marilyn says with a hoarse laugh.
Raven manages a chuckle in turn, but his concern for Mary quickly sobers him
back up.
“How bad is it?” He asks, watching as Alistair helps Marilyn to the ground.
“Uh… I think pretty bad, but I’ve been running on adrenaline and spite and
haven’t really taken a moment to pay attention,” Marilyn admits. Raven kneels
next to her other side, watching Alistair move her bloody arm away from her
stomach.
“Morrigan, do you know any healing spells?” He asks, voice tight as he looks up
at their other companion.
“Only very rudimentary ones,” Morrigan admits, but kneels in front of Marilyn
nonetheless. Raven feels all but useless, knowing next to nothing on how to
deal with injuries. He holds Marilyn’s hand and she squeezes as Morrigan hovers
glowing gold hands over her middle.
“It’s a miracle you survived this long,” Alistair mutters worriedly, looking at
Marilyn. “Is Duncan really...?”
“Saw it with my own eyes.” She flinches a bit when Morrigan touches her, then
looks at Alistair with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”
The pain in Alistair’s eyes is obvious.  “I’m just glad you made it out,” he
mutters.
Raven ducks his head, watching Morrigan remove her hands and admit that she’d
done all she can, and watching Alistair clean and wrap the stab wound in
Marilyn’s stomach. He helps Marilyn stand and helps wrap the cuts on the rest
of her body. “We’re going to Lothering.” He says softly. “We can get you some
more armor, get something to treat your wounds.”
Marilyn nods, smiling at him and ruffling his hair, making his braid slightly
more messy. “Thanks.” Alistair hovers worriedly as she makes her way to her
feet, and she smiles and ruffles his hair again. Raven can’t help but admire
her- She’s been through even more hell then he has the past few weeks, and
she’s still smiling.
They manage to get moving again, Marilyn leaning on Alistair or Raven for
support most of the way as the two explained their plan to their fellow Warden.
“So, where are we going to head first?” Marilyn asks.
“Uh…” Alistair shifts. “I leave that to you two. I recommend Arl Eamon, but
don’t leave the decision up to me. Bad things happen when I make decisions that
affect other people.”
“I’m somehow unsurprised,” Morrigan mutters, nose wrinkling.
Raven chuckles under his breath and Marilyn grins. “Arl Eamon seems like the
best first stop we could make,” he says, looking at Marilyn for confirmation.
“You know, at this point, the last thing I want to do is be in charge of
anything, so, lead the way, Red,” Marilyn replies.
Raven’s nose wrinkles and he whispers, “Red?”
“You’ve got several choices here. Red, Spice, Kitten, or Fireball. Take your
pick.” Marilyn grins at him, eyes soft.
Raven rolls his eyes. “I’ll go with Red,” he says dryly, grateful that when he
looks around the trees are starting to space out and become further and farther
between. The wilds is suffocating.
“Eh, I’ll probably use all of them.” Marilyn shrugs. Raven rolls his eyes,
crossing his arms.
“Great,” he mutters under his breath.
They don’t get far from the wilds when a loud barking causes all of them to
fall silent and look up. The barking gets louder and louder, and then from
around a corner a huge mabari warhound comes barreling down the road and
straight into Raven, knocking him over and licking his chin.
“Oh-Maker’s breath--hi!” Raven gasps, wrinkling his nose as he shoves the huge
dog’s head away from his face. “Yes, I see you're very excited--okay, okay,
calm down boy, Andraste’s titsyou’re huge!” By the time he’s managed to
scramble out from under the dog, his face is covered in dog slobber and all
three of his companions are laughing behind him. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you guys,”
Raven mutters, wiping off his face with the back of his hand. Ugh.
The dog barks, leaping to its feet and putting its paw on Raven’s knee, its
tongue lolling out of its mouth. It throws its head back and barks again. Raven
tilts his head, studying the dog. “Aren’t you the Mabari I helped back at the
camp?” The dog barks again, as if agreeing with Raven.
“He could’ve imprinted on you when you did that,” Marilyn speaks up, hand
coming onto Raven’s shoulder. “Daisy did that when I got her as a puppy. She
wouldn’t leave me alone.” Marilyn’s face twists in pain, and Raven squeezes her
hand. He guesses Daisy wasn’t as lucky to survive the fight.
“I guess,” Raven murmurs, looking back at the dog. The dog runs back to where
it came and then back to Raven, barking again. He runs off once more then
returns with something in his mouth, and Raven blinks. The dog drops a sword by
its hilt in front of Raven and Raven’s eyebrow shoots up. “Er….Thanks.”
The dog barks and Marilyn and Alistair laugh. Raven picks it up slowly,
studying the heavy blade. “It’s better than a dagger,” he admits after a
moment. “Thanks, pup.” The dog barks again and runs down the path again,
looking back and wagging it’s tail.
“There’s darkspawn coming,” Alistair says, yanking out his sword again.
“Oh boy! Just what we need.” Marilyn’s hand lights up with fire and she looks
at Morrigan. “Hey, Grumpy, let’s flank ‘em. Alistair and Raven can meet ‘em
head on and we come up on their sides.”
“My name is Morrigan,” Morrigan snaps, then sighs and starts on the left side,
shaking her head. Raven nods.
“Seems like a good idea,” he says, the dog growling and settling by his side,
lowering into a pounce position. Raven twists the new weapon in his hands and
straightens up, waiting for the darkspawn to cross the bend.
Raven’s eyes narrow as the darkspawn approach, filling the path. Marilyn and
Morrigan are in position already, and for a second all is silent. Raven’s mouth
goes dry and chills run down his back when the darkspawn in front of the pack
drags its claw against its neck and gives Raven an all-too-unsettling smile.
Thankfully, the darkspawn attack right after and Raven doesn’t have the time to
dwell on it. The battle is over quickly, the Mabari helping to make quick work
of the monsters. Raven wipes the blood off his cheek when they finish and
ruffles the dog’s ears.
“Good boy,” he whispers affectionately, smiling. The dog barks happily, tongue
hanging out of his mouth.
“He’s definitely imprinted on you,” Alistair says, leaning over Raven’s
shoulder to look at the dog.
“Oh, great,” Morrigan snips, to his left. “As if Alistair wasn’t bad enough,
now we’re going to have this mangy mutt following us around.”
The dog whines, and Alistair jumps to his defense. “He’s not mangy!” Alistair
voice gets higher pitched as he grins at the dog. “Who’s a good boy?” He
ruffles the Mabari’s ears.
“He’s absolutely adorable. What are we going to name him?” Marilyn says,
running her fingers through the tail-wagging Mabari’s fur.
“Cyri,” Raven says almost instantly, smiling as Cyri barks in approval and
licks his hand. Raven’s eyes soften and he runs his fingers through the short
hairs on the Mabari’s head, kissing the dog's head lovingly.
Chapter End Notes
     Raven has a puppy, Marilyn continues to be a salty asshole, and
     Alistair is the most adorable bean we've ever encountered in our
     lifetime. Morrigan comes in with her own saltiness and this team is
     basically just a pile of people being assholes with one cutie. It's
     great.
     Okay, this chapter is kinda crap but I think that of every chapter
     so...? Anyways, please tell me what you think! Constructive criticism
     and comments make my day!
     I wanna make some shoutouts to anyone who's subscribed to this, the
     person who bookmarked this, and @MadamSnark, @LyraNess, and @0102and3
     for leaving kudos, and a big shoutout to Madam for leaving me a super
     sweet comment the other day- It really made my day!
     Please leave your comments down below, give me your reactions and
     tell me what you think. I hope you continue to enjoy following Raven
     on his adventures.
***** Chapter Six: Kittens in Trees *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     As they recover from the tragedy at Ostagar, the party moves to
     gather supplies- and friends- in Lothering.
Chapter Notes
     -Hello, i am alive. I had a lot of trouble with School/Work + a bad
     writers block so yeah.... Im so sorry. I'm hoping to not do that
     again to y'all but seriously if your reading this, your an angel,
     thank u for reading my trash <3
     -This chapter is kinda crap because I was so Damn Desperate to finish
     it for y'all.
     -Please give me your thoughts, I will cry from being so happy and
     probably give you a really rambly response. It seriously means the
     world to me (I reread comments to give myself motivation)
     -As a apology, I made you guys Art. I hope you like, it's at the
     bottom
     -Hit me up on my tumblr, @Lostfanboy or check out my art blog,
     @smolhufflepuffkitten
     I'm nice, I promise <3
     -Anyway, that's pretty much all there is to say, Ily all so much
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The town of Lothering is small and cramped, reminding Raven faintly of home and
the Alienage. There are tents and caravans all over the outskirts, people
milling about outside of them. The bridge leading down into the town itself is
blocked off by a number of caravans, with several people milling about in front
of them.
“Wake up, gentlemen!” The man that Raven assumes is their leader hops to his
feet, followed by the others. “More travelers to attend to. Led by an elf, of
all things.”
Raven feels his ears twitch in displeasure as he narrows his eyes. ‘Typical,’he
thinks, cynicism dripping off the word.
“Err.. They don’t look much like them others, boss.” Raven’s eyes move to the
one speaking, who shifts uncomfortably as he speaks. When Raven fixes his gaze
on the man, he seems to become even more uncomfortable. Cyri growls, the fur on
his back sticking up as he stands closer to Raven. “Uhhh...Maybe we should just
let this one pass.”
“Nonsense!” The leader snaps. “Greetings, travelers!” The false cheer he
displays has Raven more annoyed than if he had just downright threatened them.
“Highwaymen,” Alistair mutters behind him. “Preying on those fleeing the
darkspawn, I suppose.” He sounds disgusted, angry.
“They are fools to get in our way,” Morrigan growls. “I say, teach them a
lesson.”
“Idiots.” That seems to be all Marilyn wants to say on the matter, her arms
folding. Raven
looks back at her, noticing the lines of pain in her face. She’s leaning on
Alistair again, hand around her stomach.
“Now, is that any way to greet someone?” The man asks, all but pouting. Raven
arches an eyebrow as he looks back at the idiot, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten
silvers and then you're free to move on.”
Raven starts a bit when Marilyn leans her elbow on his shoulder casually. She’s
moved up beside him, and though her posture is casual she’s leaning quite a bit
of weight on him. “You should listen to your friend.” She juts her chin at the
one who looked more than a little terrified. “We’re no refuges.”
“Maybe we should just let these ones past.” The scared one shifts closer to the
leader, eying Raven and Marilyn warily.
“Nonsense. This is a toll, not, say, a refugee tax,” the leader huffs, looking
for all accounts and purposes very put-off.
“A toll for what?” Raven asks dryly.
“For the imperial highway!” The leader juts his thumb behind him to gesture at
the highway, and Raven’s ears twitch again. This man must think he’s stupid.
“More like a toll to line the insides of your pockets,” Raven replies, calmly.
He’s used to petty thieves and criminals--they’re always crawling all over the
alienage. He’s even worked with a couple.
“Not much gets past you, I see,” the leader sighs, looking disappointed.
“It’s not really a toll. We’re just robbing you, see?” The man who spoke before
says.
Raven snorts. “You’re going about it like a bunch of idiots. Unsurprising,
since you clearly are. I suggest you let us pass.”
“And why should we?” The leader crosses his arms.
Marilyn looks at Raven and he can see the twitch of a smile at the edges of her
lips, the amused glint in her eyes. “I suppose we have no choice.”
Raven catches on quickly and fights down a smile. “We’ll just have to kill
them.”
“Yep.” She grins wickedly. “Think they’ll cook well?”
He can hear Alistair choke on air and Morrigan’s scoff. This makes not laughing
harder, but he manages it. “Mm. I don’t know.” He wrinkles his nose. “I think
they’ll be stringy.”
He looks back at the bandits and is pleased to see the leader completely white
in the face and wide-eyed. Marilyn’s next words make him look even sicker, his
face blanching further. “I’m sure if we use enough spices we’ll get
somethinggood. It’d be a shame to waste all this... meat.”
“You know, I think we better go!” The Leader squeaks, already grabbing his bag.
“It was lovely meeting you but I think we should get out of here before the
darkspawn hits, yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea, let’s go! Pack up
boys!” Not laughing is nearly impossible at this point, and he watches as the
group of bandits scramble to get their things and get out of there.
“Hey.” Raven calls as the bandits start to scramble off. The leader turns his
head, staring. “You can run off now, but if I hear about you preying on
refugees again?” Raven grins, feeling satisfied when the man turns even more
white. “You're going to wish I killed you here.”
“Understood!” The leader squeaks, running off with the rest. As soon as the
bandits are out of earshot, Raven, Marilyn, and Alistair all burst out
laughing. Even Morrigan is smiling. Cyri’s tail is wagging fast, and he’s
panting with excitement.
“I can’t-I can’t believe you two did that!” Alistair squeaks, before laughing
even harder. Marilyn chortles, eyes crinkled at the sides as she wipes tears
from the corners.
“That was the best laugh i’ve had in weeks.” She giggles, pressing her face
into Raven’s shoulder.
“Same here.” He says, finding himself still laughing.
“Are we going to move on, or…?” Morrigan asks, but there’s a edge of a smile to
her lips that Raven feels satisfied with.
***
"It's just a guess but I'm thinking everyone in Lothering is aware of the
approaching darkspawn horde." Alistair comments quietly as they maneuver around
a refugee camp.
The more they walk around Lothering, the more Raven is reminded of home. He
scoffs under his breath as he watches a woman and man fight outside a broken
down house, their faces red with anger.
“What is it?” Marilyn says, leaning on him right now to give Alistair a break.
“Nothing. Just...reminded of home.” He chuckles softly, looking up at her.
Marilyn looks over at the arguing couple and arches an eyebrow. “Thatreminds
you of home?”
Raven snorts. “Pretty much. The Alienage is full of people like this.
Desperate, angry, out of choices and still fighting over what to do.” Raven
shrugs, watching Cyri chase after a butterfly. “Maker knows my family got in
plenty of fights over money.”
“I have to admit, I’ve never been anywhere near an Alienage. My mother would’ve
had a heart attack.” Marilyn squeezes Raven’s shoulder lightly. “I don’t know
much.”
“It’s...It’s pretty bad.” Raven sighs, thinking of his home. “But, I mean, it
isn’t all bad. We’re a close knit community. Everyone knows each other. We’re
stronger for our struggles.”
“Still, no one should have to live in a situation where they don’t have
choices.” Raven looks at Marilyn in surprise, eyes widening a tad. She looks
back at him and smiles. “What?”
“I don’t know. I’ve just never-- I’ve come to expect people of noble origin to
just brush us off, that’s all,” Raven admits, smiling softly. “It’s nice to
have a change in that pattern.”
Marilyn grins at him and ruffles his hair. He ducks his head to get away,
having just redone his braid. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty awesome,” she says. He
laughs, and then Marilyn is playing with the strands of his hair. “How the hell
do you keep this nest neat?”
“Lots of practice. It runs in the family, this nest,” Raven laughs. Marilyn
laughs as well, and some of the stress Raven has been feeling melts a bit,
letting him breathe a bit easier. He reaches up and starts fixing the damage
Marilyn caused to his hair, and she playfully pulls out a strand of his redone
braid. He glares playfully and sticks out his tongue, which only makes her
laugh. He bats her hands away-gently, still mindful of her injuries- and
finally fixes his braid. He tosses it out of his way and sighs.
“What does it look like down?” She asks, sounding genuinely curious.
“Why is my hair so fascinating?” Raven groans, tightening the tie on his red
locks.
“It’s wavy and curly and super messy,” Alistair says, walking up beside Marilyn
with a playful grin. “It’s also really damn long.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Raven mutters, rolling his eyes. Despite his grumbling,
he’s fighting down a smile.
“Ohh, tell me more.” Marilyn shifts off of Raven’s shoulder- allowing him to
roll his shoulders back and relax them without the stress of supporting her…
...And leans onto Alistair’s shoulder instead, folding her hands under her chin
and batting her eyelashes at him.
Raven smirks a bit as he watches Alistair's cheeks flush pink. He chooses not
to comment, but instead files the information away for later. “He looks really
funny angry with his hair sticking up every which way,” Alistair supplies, and
Marilyn grins wickedly.
“You are horrible people,” Raven mutters, looking at the sky.
“If you three are quitedone,” Morrigan says as she turns around. Marilyn sticks
out her tongue and Morrigan scowls at the childish action. Raven just chuckles,
shaking his head and taking the lead again.
They head into the cramped town, avoiding the numerous templars and angry
refugees, shouting into the arid air. Raven sighs, looking up at the blue sky.
Then he focuses on the others again. “Why don’t we split up? I’ll go handle
supplies. Marilyn, want to go check out the Tavern?”
Marilyn nods, and Alistair asks, “Want me to go with you?” Marilyn nods again,
still leaning on her fellow Grey Warden.
Raven nods, opening his mouth and turning to look for Morrigan only to find
that the mage is nowhere to be found. He closes his mouth and arches an
eyebrow. “Well, I guess that’s that then. I’ll meet you two on the edge of
town, and hopefully Morrigan will have reappeared by then.” Raven sighs, and
Marilyn grins.
“Aye-aye, captain.” She gives him a playful little salute, and Raven rolls his
eyes. Despite this, he’s smiling. Alistair grins at him and slips away with
Marilyn, murmuring quietly to her. She laughs, and Alistair looks way too
pleased, his cheeks flushed that bright pink.
Raven chuckles, watching their backs disappear into the crowd before whistling
for Cyri to follow him as he walks around. He receives more than a few strange
looks, but he doesn’t think anything of it. He looks around, humming under his
breath, before something catches his attention.
It’s a little boy, no more than eight or nine. He has big blue eyes, tear-
stained cheeks, and messy brown hair. Crossing his arms, the boy presses his
back against the stone of a bridge and cries into the crowd, “Mother!” His
voice is desperate, pained, and Raven’s heart breaks. “Mother, where are you?!”
Raven presses through the crowd to the little boy, kneeling in front of him
when he reaches the kid. “Hey, what’s the matter, kiddo?”
The boy stares at him, eyes wide. He seems to consider his words, staring at
Raven and seeming to decide that Raven is safe. “I-I...I can’t find my mama.
Have you seen her?” The boy  lights up with hope, eyes widening.
“That depends--what does she look like?” Raven asks softly, wanting to help
this boy and badly.  
“She’s really tall, and she has red hair. We live on a big farm, all of us.”
The boy sniffles, clearly on the verge of hysteria. “Some mean men with swords
came, and mama told me to run to the village as fast as I could, and so I did!
She said she was right behind me, but I’ve been waiting and waiting, and I
can’t see her!” The boy sobs, rubbing at his cheeks with clenched fists.  
‘This poor boy’s mother is dead.’ Raven’s thoughts say bleakly, but instead of
saying this he gently lowers his voice, “Shh, shh. Hey, hey kiddo, it’s okay.
Breathe, okay bud? It’s gonna be okay, I promise. Here, kiddo. Can you come
with me to the Chantry?” Raven asks softly. “The people there will be able to
help find your mother, and help you too.” ‘And they’ll probably be able to
break the news to him better than I can.’
“R-Really?” The boy blinks, staring at Raven. “Y-You’re…Are you an elf..?” The
boy tilts his head, scrubbing at his tears with his sleeves.
“Do the ears give it away?” Raven quirks up one side of his mouth, and the boy
giggles.
“Father says I’m not supposed to talk to elves, and that they’re bad, but
you're nicer than anybody else here.” The boy gives a toothy, adorable smile
and Raven can’t help but give a smile in return.
“People are kinda mean to elves, but I’ll tell you a secret.” He smiles. “Elf
or human, everyone has the capacity to be kind. Just make sure you’re kind,
too.”
The boy blinks, then grins. “Okay!” He giggles again, less hysterical now. Cyri
walks up to the boy, and licks his face, causing the boy to giggle more. Raven
smiles once more and stands, holding out a hand for the little boy to take. The
boy’s small hand curls into his own, and Raven gently leads him towards the
chantry. A protective feeling rushes over him as he looks at the small child,
and he frowns, wishing he could help the child more.  
It doesn’t take long to reach the Chantry and bring aside a chantry brother,
explaining the situation to him and letting the priest take the little boy
inside. Raven watches them go before leaving the chantry courtyard, rubbing his
arm and sighing. He spots several people milling about a caravan, seemingly
shopping, and starts heading that way, figuring he might as well get his actual
job done. Once there, he discovers the merchant and a chantry woman fighting.
He manages to calm them down and find a compromise for them (mostly for the
sake of his sanity), and starts to quietly look through the caravan, looking
for supplies.
He hasn’t even spent five seconds doing this when a voice behind him says, “So,
we have come to solve every squabble in the village, personally? My, but the
darkspawn will be impressed.”
Raven jumps, his heart rate spiking to a rate far faster than what could be
considered healthy. He whirls, breath coming in fast gasps and one hand ready
to attack if necessary. When he recognizes the person speaking as Morrigan, he
manages to relax. Slightly. Unfortunately, panic continues to grip his chest
and the revelation that he’s not being attacked does nothing for his nerves.
“Don’t sneak up on me!” He snarls, teeth baring a bit.
Morrigan arches an eyebrow and doesn’t offer an apology,  joining him in the
caravan. “Jumpy, are we?” She asks smoothly.
“Yes, well, I’ve been in more near-death situations than I’d like to count
lately, so you’ll have to forgive me,” Raven replies with biting sarcasm, nose
crinkling.
Morrigan snorts under her breath, looking around. “Tell me, I’m curious. Where
are you from?”
“Denerim,” Raven mutters, turning away from her as he starts sorting through
the merchandise. He finds some bandages and healing potions and grabs those.
“Alienage.”
She lets out a soft ‘ah’ then asks, “Where did you learn to fight?”
“Ma taught me.” Raven turns back to her. “She wasn’t from the city.” He shrugs.
“Sounds interesting.” Morrigan arches an eyebrow again, clearly pushing for
more.
Raven shrugs, not interested in giving it to her. He has no doubt about her
power, but as for trusting her, he still isn’t quite sure. “Maybe so,” he
replies calmly, turning away and returning to looking through the merchandise.
He can feel golden eyes staring through his back as he gathers supplies. He
glares at the roll of bandages in his hand, resisting the urge to ask her what
the hell she’s staring at. Just as he’s about to say something, she asks, “Do
you truly believe you can accomplish the assembling of an army?”
Raven snorts under his breath, examining the armor on the stands. “No,” he
mutters. Then he meets her eyes and says, “But if we don’t try, we’re dead. If
we do try, we’ll probably still be dead. But at least we tried.”
She falls silent after that, and he spends the next half hour gathering
supplies with her. Just as he’s about to step out of the caravan, a bit of gold
catches his eye.
He arches an eyebrow and moves closer, noting that it’s a medium sized
sketchbook. He touches the pale gold cover, opening it and admiring the bare
pages within. Next to it is a small case and he opens it, gasping a little when
the contents turn out to be 12 colored oil pastels and two pencils, complete
with a small sharpener.
Growing up he always loved sketching his family and friends, though he could
never afford a sketchbook - nor would he ever ask for one - and he would sketch
on spare pieces of paper with rundown pencils. He ended up being pretty good
over the years.
Just as he’s picking the sketchbook up again, looking for a price, the merchant
walks in. The man eyes what Raven is holding and grunts, “Take it if you want.”
Raven’s eyes widen and he looks at the man again. “Pardon?” He was just going
to givethese away?
“No one is going to want anything like that right now.” He lifts a eyebrow.
“Besides. I’d rather they go to someone who’ll use ‘em, rather than just being
destroyed when the darkspawn arrive.”
“Well, I.” Raven’s mouth goes dry and he quietly puts the sketchbook away.
“Thank you.” He picks up the box, placing that in his bag as well after a bit
of hesitance and a nod of encouragement from the merchant.
***
A little while later, Raven is in fresh, unruined armor and they have more for
Marilyn and Alistair. Raven is also examining a new greatsword as they walk to
the edge of town. He leans on a fence, half closing his eyes as Morrigan stands
next to him.
He stares up at the sky, noting the time. They had a few hours until nightfall,
and the sky was a dull blue, cloudy. He watches a couple birds fly, sighing
softly and attempting to let some of the tension in his body. His eyes slip
fully closed.
Then someone pokes him on the nose. “Hey, Spice.”
“Marilyn,” he greets, giving her a small smile. Her hair is messier, strands of
silky black hair falling over dark brown skin. She smiles at him. He blinks at
her, then notices she’s covered in blood once more. “...Aw jeez, what the hell
happened?”
Alistair enters his line of vision. “Some of Loghain’s men were waiting for us
in the tavern.” The man looks angry and drawn, his lips thin.
“ApparentlyLoghain is spreading the idea that it was the Grey Wardens who
betrayed the king and not him.”
Raven feels a now-familiar bubbling of anger in his chest and he narrows his
eyes. “Of fucking course. The man needs a scapegoat, right?” He sneers. “Why
not use us?”
“Now, now. I’m sure it’ll all be resolved soon,” a new voice states. Her voice
is laden with an accent he doesn’t recognize in the slightest, and she slides
into view from behind Alistair. Next to him, he can see Morrigan sneer. The
woman has chin length ginger hair and bright blue eyes, clothed in chantry
robes with a bow over her chest and a pack of arrows on her back, as well as a
knife around her waist. Her eyes are what catch Raven’s attention, intense in
their bright blue, different from his or Marilyn’s. Freckles stand out on her
pale skin and her smile is warm and sweet, her eyes steadily meeting his own
and seeming to measure his character from just one look.
The fuck kind of chantry sister is this?
She smiles at him and he arches an eyebrow. “...Uh-huh. Who are you?” Raven
crosses his arms, leaning further onto the fence.
“Raven, this is Leliana.” Marilyn nods to the woman. “She helped us when
Loghain’s fucks attacked us in the tavern. She wants to help.”
Raven nods, humming in thought and studying her. “Can you shoot that thing into
a darkspawn or several hundred?” He nods to her bow, his hand going to Cyri’s
head and stroking the dog’s short fur.
Leliana chuckles. “Yes, and you’ll find my skills are not limited to just
that.” She smiles wide.
Raven shrugs, still eying her suspiciously. “...Well.” He looks at Marilyn.
“She helped you?” Marilyn nods. “Okay. We’ll need all the help we can get, I
suppose, so welcome aboard.”
He pushes himself off the fence and starts heading toward the outskirts of
town, the others not taking long to fall in step beside him. Marilyn is soon
leaning on his shoulders again and they just leave the outskirts of the town
when Morrigan stops short.
She doesn’t say anything, just nods to a small cage hanging from several
supports on the edge of town. Raven frowns at the cruelty of the inhuman
treatment of the captive. Not only would no one except the smallest of children
be able to sit down in the enclosed space, but it was completely exposed to the
elements. The bars of the cage even seemed to be sharp at the edges.
The captive himself is what draws Raven’s attention. The man is huge. Taller
and broader than any elf or human Raven’s ever met. He’s squished inside the
large cage, though he stares stoically into the distance, barely reacting to
what must be painful. His ears are curved and pointed like an elves, but he was
no elf. Tight dreadlocks decorate his head, as well as two little… Horns? Raven
couldn’t tell if they were decoration, a part of his head, or hair, but he
didn’t understand their purpose. They were gray and sharp, and he kept shifting
his head to keep them from pressing against the tops of the cage.
He’s speaking, but it’s no language Raven understands. The syllables and rhythm
are hard and sharp, foreign to his ears and making no sense. He hasn’t heard
languages other than the common tongue, and despite his wariness of the man,
his curiosity peaks. To his right, Morrigan studies the man up and down. “A
strong creature such as this, locked away.” She tsks. “A crime. If we’re going
to take the nitwit and the cloister sister, I’d suggesttalking to this man
before we leave.” She looks at Raven again at last, a certain glint in her
eyes.
Raven arches an eyebrow at her. “You make no sense,” he says blunty. She arches
an eyebrow and thins her lips in response, and he sighs and shakes his head,
walking to the cage quietly. The other four follow, with Cyri pressed close to
his calves. The man’s eyes lock onto his as soon as he approaches and he nearly
staggers at the intensity found there. Two grey eyes lock onto his own, seeming
to peer into his very soul.
When the man speaks, however, his voice is a near perfect monotone. “You aren’t
one of my captors.” There’s no question in the words, just a statement of
facts. Raven has never met anyone anythinglike this man. “I will not amuse you
anymore than I have the humans. Leave me in peace.”
“You’re a prisoner, yes?” Marilyn asks. She moves from behind him on Alistair’s
side to lean on his, locking her hands under her chin. “Who imprisoned you?”
“I’m in a cage, am I not?” The words are clipped, annoyed, he thinks, but he
really can’t read this man’s emotions. “I’ve been placed here by the chantry.”
“The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children.”
Raven turns his head at Leliana’s words. Her blue eyes are locked on the man,
lips thinned.
“It is as she says,” the man replies. Raven isn’t sure if the bluntness of the
words is nonchalance, or maybe just acceptance. Either way, he feels sick. “I
am Sten of the Beresaad - The vangaurd - of the qunari people.”
“Qunari?” Raven repeats, blinking. He’s never heard that word before, never
even heard of a ‘Qunari people.’ Then he shakes his head and recovers his
manners. “I am Raven Tabris. Pleased to meet you.”
“You mock me. Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands.
Though it matters little now, I expect I will die soon enough.” Raven doesn’t
like the matter of fact tone, the utter lack of emotion in the statement. It
feels wrong to care that little about your own fate.
“This is a proud and powerful creature.” Raven didn’t know it was possible, but
Morrigan manages to make him feel even more put off. “Trapped as prey for the
darkspawn. If you cannot see a release for him, I suggest releasing him for
mercy’s sake alone.”
...Because that sounds like something Morrigan would do.
“Mercy? I wouldn’t have expected that from you.” Alistair snorts, crossing his
arms.
“I also suggest that Alistair takes his place in the cage,” Morrigan snaps,
golden eyes narrowing to shards of ice.
“Yes, that’swhat I would’ve expected.” Alistair rolls his eyes.
“Let’s not have another one of your catfights, okay?” Mary massages her temple,
still leaning on Raven’s side.
“I suggest you leave me to my fate.” The man--Sten-- snaps, arms folding.
Marilyn hums from his side, thoughtfully, then says, “Are you interested in
seeking atonement?” Raven isn’t entirely sure he likes where this is going.
“Death will be my atonement.”
“...Yes, well, there are other ways to seek atonement other than dying,
y’know.” Marilyn sighs.
Sten’s face remains impassive as he responds, “Perhaps. What does your wisdom
say is equal to my crime?”
“You're just as likely to die fighting the Blight, yeah? At least then you’ve
done some kinda good rather than dying in a cage.” Marilyn’s lips twitch.
“The blight? Are you a Grey Warden, then?” Sten asks, a tiny bit of curiosity
worming its way into his voice.
“Yes.” Marilyn gives a slight smile.
“My people have heard of the Grey Warden’s strength and skill, though I suppose
not every legend is true,” Sten muses.
Marilyn simply smiles. “Are you willing, or no?” She asks.
“Yes. It is as you said, I am just as likely to die.” Sten nods, and Marilyn
turns to Raven.
“Any possible way you can break off that padlock for me?” She asks.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Raven mutters. She nods.
“How can we make our situation any worse, Flame?” Mary tugs his braid, and he
sighs, tugging his sword out of it’s sheathe.
Raven braces the metal of his sword under the curve of the padlock, pressing
down until the semi-brittle metal snaps under the strength of his relatively
new sword. The door swings open, and Sten stares him down. “And so it is done.
I will follow you into  battle, in doing so, I shall find my atonement.”
Chapter End Notes
     Please let me know what you think <3
     I hope you enjoyed a picture of Raven and Zevran <3
***** Chapter Seven: Camp *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     The group settles down at camp before their journey to redcliffe.
Chapter Notes
     -HEY I'M STILL ALIVE
     -I'm sooooo sorry this chapter didn't come out sooner. It gave me
     soooo much grief. I've been calling it the "Cursed chapter of
     dialogue." Lol. But, seriously, i'm really sorry. The good news is
     we're onto the more juicy stuff again. Redcliffe, here we come!
     Hopefully being more excited for the content will enable to pump out
     chapters a little faster (But don't hold your breath.)
     -I've started school again, so that's fun my dudes. It's not giving
     me too much grief though, so I think we might be okay.
     -This chapter was kinda fun to write in some aspects, as it allowed
     me to delve into Raven's character and give you more information on
     Marilyn as well (As many of you seem to like her!)
     -Huge thanks to everyone who reads this story, especially the ones
     that leave sweet comments. Rereading those comments give me so much
     inspiration and hope and it never fails to make my freaking day.
     Honestly, even if it's just a keyboard smash, leave your comments! I
     utterly adore hearing from you guys, and I promise i'm nice!
     -If you like, message me over on my tumblr @Lostfanboy or check out
     my art blog, @smolhufflepuffkitten! I'm always happy to make a friend
     and talk about Dragon Age or whatever else!
     -Again, thank you so much for reading and through sticking through
     this. I have a plan for the next three chapters, and i'm hoping to
     get them out before October (again, don't hold your breath.) Love you
     guys!!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
He’s falling, down, down and can’t breathe, things grabbing at him, hard rock
tumbling to him, he lands-
It doesn’t hurt.
He wants it to hurt.
Not hurting means he’s not alive, not there, drifting away, lava beneath him,
air is thick and choking and humid. Darkspawn, he sees them, the monsters,
crawling, growling, guttural sounds vibrating under his skin, tingling under
his fingertips have to stop them have to stop them have to have to have to-
Dragon, archdemon, it lifts its head and roars and he can almost understand-
Raven shoots up, eyes popping open and a short gasp bursting out of his chest.
A cold sweat covers his body, unpleasant and sticky. He barely registers the
hand on his shoulder until Alistair speaks.
“Bad dreams, huh?” Big brown eyes stare into his, concerned but warm. “It’s
real, sort of. You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the
darkspawn. That’s what your dream was. Hearing them. The archdemon it...talks
to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That’s why we know this is really
a blight.
“...Great.” Raven massages his forehead, the dull ache there barely relieving
from the pressure. His body is slowly returning to reality, the everyday pain
of his body slowly returning to him. Aches and pains are normal, a constant for
him. He doesn’t remember a day where he wasn’t in some kind of pain. It’s worse
with the fact that he’s still banged up from Ostagar, bruises and cuts slowly
healing. “How long was I out?”
“Just about an hour.” Alistair scratches his head. “You kinda passed out after
we set up and Marilyn said we should let you rest.”
Raven flushes with embarrassment, scratching his arm and muttering, “Sorry
about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were tired.” Alistair smiles and pats Raven’s
shoulder, standing up. Looking around, Marylin and Leliana were nowhere to be
found. Sten was sitting a good ways away from the main camp and Cyri was curled
up only a feet away from Raven himself. Morrigan seems to have set up her own
camp far from the others, which Raven isn’t sure how he feels about. Raven
whistles softly and Cyri pops up, bounding over and licking Raven’s fingers.
Raven smiles. “Where’s Mary and Leliana?”
“They went hunting.” Alistair stretches his hands above his head as Raven
pushes himself to his feet. “I’m hoping that meant, you know, food and not
killing random darkspawn in the woods.”
Raven chuckles, rebraiding his hair absently. “Do any of you know how to cook?”
“I was told that I have about as much cooking skill as a nug.” Alistair grins
sheepishly.
Raven laughs. “Well, I can if everyone’s okay with it.” He shrugs.
“You know how to cook?” Alistair’s eyebrows raise.
“Why is that such a surprise? Shianni was shit at it and father was too tired
to cook most of the time so I just started doing it for them. I got pretty good
at it with some guidance.” Raven walks over to the fire, sitting down near the
warm flames and picking up the pot resting beside it. It was warm to the touch.
“Who’s Shianni?” Alistair sits beside him, smiling softly. “Your sister?” He
guesses.
“Not quite. She’s my cousin, though she might as well have been my sister. Her
mother died during childbirth, and no one ever really knew her father, so we
took her in. I grew up with her.” Raven shrugs, about to say something else
when Marilyn’s voice directs his attention away from Alistair.
“Hello.” Marilyn ruffles his hair, pushing his head down in the process as she
shifts the weight of a overly large nug on her shoulders.
“Hey.” Raven smiles, sitting up when her hand leaves his head. “Hunt looks
successful.” He looks across the fire where Leliana sets down a basket of what
looked to be harvested berries and edible herbs.
“Did I hear you saying you know how to cook? Because I’ve never touched a pot
in my life.” Marilyn announces, setting down her nug.
“Yes, I do know how to cook,” Raven replies, amused. “That’s just sad. How can
you have never cooked? Do you just...not need to eat?”
Marilyn laughs, sitting down to skin the nug. Raven sets the pot back over the
fire as she speaks, “Ha-ha, very funny Spice. Nan cooked for the family. I
would occasionally sneak into the kitchen, but more to cause trouble then to
cook.” Marilyn grins. “Or to steal sweets.”
“When I was fifteen I thought it was a fun idea to steal sweets from the
denerim marketplace for a guy I fancied.” Raven chuckles. “Father found out and
chewed me out for a good two hours.”
Alistair, Mary and Leliana all snicker, and Raven smiles. It was nice, being
open about who he had interest in. There was no real reason to hide it anymore,
everything had gone to shit anyway. It wasn’t like Raven was going to find
anyone before the Darkspawn killed them all, not that Raven particularly
minded.
Leliana nibbles on some of the berries in her basket, Raven moving closer to it
to gather spices and see what vegetables or fruits could work well with the
meat in the stew. “In Orlais, we had these little treats called Sweet Ruins.”
Ah, so that’s the source of Leliana’s strange accent. Raven has heard tales of
Orlais, mostly about how they invaded Ferelden, but doesn’t know much about the
country itself. “They were my favorite. I especially loved the ones with
chocolate in them.” Her face lights up, a goofy show of teeth and sparkling
blue eyes. Raven resolves he should ask her more about Orlais, she at least
seems to love talking about it.
Marilyn grins. “Mother once got very excited about those when she returned home
from a trip to Orlais.” Raven catches the falter in Marilyn’s voice when she
mentions her mother, but he chooses not to comment. “She tried to make one.
Let’s just say Father never let her near the kitchen again.” Raven laughs
softly, along with the other two, and Marilyn looks pleased.
Raven is delighted to find a bundle of wild carrots and turnips, and pulls a
small knife he bought earlier to chop and drop the vegetables into the broth in
the pot. Meanwhile, Alistair peers curiously over his shoulder as he speaks, “I
used to make a game out of stealing as much food as I could from the Chantry
kitchen and eating it before the priests caught me. I remember I ate a whole
slice of chocolate cake and one of the Brothers caught me as I was sneaking out
of the kitchen. He asked me if I had ate the cake and I promptly responded that
I hadn’t. He asked why I was covered in chocolate and I said I wasn’t. He got
very cross with me.”
Everyone laughs, and Raven enjoys the image of a younger Alistair trying to get
out of trouble despite being caught red handed. They fall into a semi-
comfortable silence as Marilyn helps him chop up the nug and put it in the
stew. Eventually, Marilyn speaks up again. “I used to sneak out of my bedroom
and roam the castle at night. I would hide behind the battlements to practice
magic with a friend.” She murmurs, a nostalgic, or maybe sad, touch to her
voice.
“I would climb over the walls of the city and roam the forest. Sometimes I
would hunt or forage so we had something extra to eat.” Raven smiles, thinking
of running through the woods, the wind in his hair. “Other times I would sit by
this creek and just listen.” Marilyn smiles at him and he smiles back. Alistair
and Leliana had moved a bit away by then, discussing the chantry from what
Raven can hear.
Marilyn smiles, watching the stew bubble. “Where did you learn how to fight?”
She asks, leaning back on her hands and watching the fire.
“My mother taught me mostly, and then the rest was practicing on my own
whenever I could sneak out of town. I have no idea who taught my mother, though
believe me, I asked. How did you learn?” Raven turns his head to look at her,
finally letting his braid out for the day. His hair tumbles over his shoulders,
tangled and messy.
“For the swordwork, Ser Gilmore taught me when I was old enough, though I was
playing with the wooden swords with Fergus long before that.” She laughs and
looks up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle gently. “For the magic? I
didn’t get to pratice much, but occasionally, my friend-An apostate- would hide
with me and show me little things. Fireballs, frost, things like that.” She
shrugs one shoulder. “We would bring sweets and try random stuff together,
usually blowing things up in our faces.”
Raven laughs. “I can imagine. Why don’t you ask Morrigan? Maybe she’d be
willing to show you some stuff, especially if you point out it means you're
able to do more in battle.”
Marilyn chuckles, and the firelight catches on her teeth when she does. “I
could try, but I’m a little scared of her. Just a bit.” She lifts two fingers,
holding them close together, and they both laugh.
“Meh. We’ve both seen worse at this point.” Raven laughs and shrugs, moving to
stir the stew.
Marilyn chuckles and nods, “Suppose so,” She agrees. A few moments later,
Alistair manages to grab her attention and Raven falls into the quiet peace
that comes with cooking.
His thoughts drift back to the alienage. Marilyn very much so reminded him of
Shianni, cocky grins and all. He wishes he could talk to Shianni now. To ask
her advice, to see if she’s okay. Just to hear her voice.
A pang of homesickness hits him and he suddenly wishes he had more time in the
Alienage, that he had spent more time with his Father and cousins. What if he
never makes it back to Denerim? His father was old, tired, and sickly. It was
very possible Raven could lose his father without ever getting the chance to
say goodbye. The thought of it sends a pang of grief through his heart and he
feels sick. A deep breath, and he pushes those thoughts away. He couldn’t focus
on what if’s right then. He didn’t have the option.
“You look lost.” Leliana says softly, sitting next to him with a gentle smile.
He blinks at her, and chuckles.
“I’m way out of my element.” He replies, and she gives a giggle.
“I fear we never got the chance to really speak. It’s Raven, correct?” Leliana
tilts her head, and Raven is reminded he knows next to nothing about her.
“Yeah.” Raven says, eying the Stew. The meat needs few more minutes before he
could call it done, he thinks. “So… Chantry sister? I don’t know a lot about
the Chantry, but I have a feeling Chantry Sisters usually don’t join wars to
fight darkspawn and corrupt teryns.”
Leliana hums, a small smile on the edge of her face. “I had a vision.”
Raven’s eyebrows shoot up. O-kay. He’d always been skeptical of the Chantry and
its teachings at best, downright dismissive at worst. His tone is dry as he
replies, “A… Vision.”
She chuckles, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true!” She frowns. Oh, it
didn’t just sound crazy. It sounded bat-shit insane, and Raven’s expression
must have said as much because she says, “None of my fellow sisters believed me
either.”
“Let me just get this straight.” Raven starts spooning hot stew into bowls and
handing them off to Marilyn and Alistair. He waves to Sten and Morrigan, but
neither of them move. He shrugs and spoons a bowl for Leliana and hands it to
her. “You had a vision, sent by the Maker, to join,” He waves with his spoon at
the little camp before finally serving himself a bowl, “Whatever this is? I
didn’t think the Maker sent visions.”
“You saw the people in Lothering. The Maker doesn’t want this. What you do is
the Maker’s work and He called me to aid in your journey. This is what i’m
meant to do. I know it.” Leliana stares into her bowl for a moment, seeming
lost in thought.
Raven chews on a piece of nug as he thinks. As far as he was concerned, the
Maker didn’t  care.  The Maker let darkness and destruction go on all the time.
The Maker  let  Cafias hurt him. The Maker  let  his mother die. The Maker  let
Shianni get hurt.
But Leliana looks hopeful, so he keeps his mouth shut.
Finally after several moments of awkward silence, Raven says, “What  was  the
vision?”
Leliana sighs and sets down her spoon, looking off into the distance as she
says, “I had a dream. In it, there was an impenetrable darkness. It was… So
dense, so real. And there was a noise. A terrible, ungodly noise.” Leliana
shudders. “I stood on a peak, and watched as the darkness consumed everything…
And when the storm swallowed the last of the sun’s light, I… I fell, and the
darkness drew me in.”
Raven sets down his empty bowl, staring at her. “What then?” He asks softly.
“When I woke, I went to the chantry’s garden’s, as I always do. But that day,
the rosebush in the corner had flowered. Everyone  knew  that bush was dead. It
was grey and twisted and gnarled- the ugliest thing you ever saw, but there it
was. A single, beautiful rose.” She smiles softly. “It was as though the Maker
stretched out His hand to say, “Even in the midst of all this darkness, there
is hope and beauty. Have Faith.’”
“To be perfectly honest, I still don’t know how you got the idea that you
should drop everything to come along with us.” Raven looks up at the sky. “But
hey. I’ve never been the most faithful of men, so… Who’s to say?”
Raven can see Leliana smile out of the corner of his eye, and he can’t help but
smile a bit too. “In the end though, I couldn’t just sit by and not help. I
would do anything to stop this blight.” Leliana says softly.
“I suppose that’s why I’m here, too.” Raven murmurs, watching embers from the
still-burning fire float up to the sky.
***
After dinner, Raven lays down in his tent. He’s never actually slept in a tent
before. His bag sits in the corner and he lays on his bedroll, too hot to get
under it. He takes a deep breath, truly letting himself relax for the first
time since he left the Alienage. Despite his best efforts, he remains tense.
Morrigan had advised against it, but Cyri was lying next to him in the tent.
The dog’s gentle snores put to ease some of his homesickness. He wasn’t used to
sleeping alone, Shianni had always been in the top bunk of their beds.
Sometimes, when the nightmares were bad and he couldn’t sleep for the life of
him, he would lay and listen to her breathing. She would snort sometimes, and
snore too. But he found it comforting, knowing she was alive, breathing, and
right next to her.
When he was younger, he would climb into his parents bed and sleep between his
mother and father, finding comfort and safety in the circle of their arms. Even
when he got older, he would climb in with Shianni when he couldn’t stand to be
alone. Now, he threads his fingers through the dog’s fur, listening to the soft
huffs of breath.
Everything had been happening so fast. He didn’t know what to make of it, or
how to handle it. He certainly was no hero- Whatever Duncan saw in him
certainly could not be enough. His mother used to say that anything was
possible. He believed that once upon a time.
But reality said otherwise. Believing wasn’t going to put food on the table or
end a blight. Not for the first time, he wished his mother was there to reach
out to, to give him advice and tell him what to do. He rubs at his cheeks,
desperately willing the sick churning of his stomach to go away.
Tomorrow they would start the journey to Redcliffe, to speak to Arl Eamon and
begin building an army against the blight. He only hopes nothing goes wrong
before they get there.
Chapter End Notes
     -spoiler warning: something goes wrong
     -Thank you again for reading!!! AHH!
     -Leave your comments below if you like, let me know things I could
     improve on or things you liked about this chapter! Have a good day
     kidlets, and take care of yourselves.
***** Preparation *****
Chapter by Fanboy
Chapter Summary
     Raven faces an unexpected ambush, and gains an equally unexpected
     ally. The Grey Wardens and their allies make it to Redcliffe in one
     piece- but they aren't expecting the challenges that await them
     there.
Chapter Notes
     Guess who's back?
     It's chaboy
     ...Four months after the last chapter i'M SORRY GUYS-
     I've had some really bad writers block and insecurities surrounding
     Raven and tonight I finALLY wrote the last two scenes and cried in
     relief.
     Good news? I'm finally posting and NOT going on hiatus (like i was
     considering oops) and in even better news, everyone's favorite lil
     adorable shit assassin has arrived and i'm so happy. Constantly
     afraid i'm writing him OOC but? Happy
     So, before I finish rambling, I want to give a huge thank you to
     everyone supporting me and leaving wonderful comments (Check out
     Madamsnark and raymurata on tumblr/here on AO3! Their both super
     sweet and have amazing OCs whom I *love*!) It means the world to
     me!!!
     Especially big shout out to my best friend, who deals with all my
     whining and has been with me every step of this story. He's such a
     sweetheart and he's so supportive and like you guys have him to thank
     for the fact that a) this whole story isn't horrifically
     grammatically incorrect and b) this story continues to be written bc
     he's the only reason I get anything done. I love him so much and
     like? The best friend?
     Okay, i'm going to stop rambling now and actually let you guys read.
     Please let me know what you thought!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"Oh thank the maker!” A woman skids to a stop in front of them, her eyes
panicked. She grabs onto Raven’s arm, hands shaking. “We need help! T-They
attacked the wagon, please help us!”
“Ye-Yes, of course,” Raven, taken off guard, says, already reaching for his
sword.
Her body visibly slumps in relief and she starts backing away. “Follow me, i’ll
take you to them!” She runs off, and they are quick to follow.
They follow her down a beaten path, the woods becoming thicker the further they
come off the main road. When she stops again, it’s in front of an elven man.
She says something to him, and then steps to the side. Raven’s eyebrows furrow
as he looks around, grip tightening on his sword handle. Something was very off
here.
The elven man smirks, and he lifts his hand, and at his signal, armored men and
women begin pouring out of hiding places. Raven hears the rumble before he sees
the tree falling, and he dives out of the way just in time to avoid getting
crushed under its weight. The tree is huge, cutting off the entirety of the
path. The tree separates Raven, Cyri, Alistair, Marilyn, and Leliana from
Morrigan and Sten, and leaves them effectively ambushed.
Raven pushes himself to his feet, grabbing his sword off the ground. The leader
of their attackers pulls out his own daggers, and shouts, “The Grey Wardens die
here!”
The fight is intense. Raven loses track of time, focusing only on survival. In
the midst of the battle, he comes face to face with the leader of their
attackers. He only has the time to register bright gold eyes before the
leader’s dagger slices his stomach. He grunts in pain, quickly returning the
attack with one of his own. His sword drives into the man's side, and when he
falls, Raven moves onto the rest of their attackers.
When all's said and done, Raven leans against the wall of the cliffside,
catching his breath and closing his eyes. He touches the wound on his stomach,
between the plates of his armor. It’s deep, but not deep enough to be life-
threatening.
“Raven, we’ve got a bit of a situation.” Marilyn says, standing above the
fallen body of the leader.
Raven groans and walks over. “What is it?” He asks.
“He’s still breathing.” Alistair jerks his head in the direction of the man,
sword in hand.  
“Oh, great. And why can’t we just… finish the job?” Raven asks.
“Because, oh wise one, I’d like to know who he is and who sent him. Let’s tie
‘im up and find out.” Marilyn grins and gets some rope out of her pack. “I’ll
heal him enough so he won’t bleed out, or something.”
Raven sighs and walks over, helping Marilyn to tie the man’s wrists. She spends
a few moments holding a glowing hand over the wound Raven had inflicted. After
that, she flicks the elf’s head a few times until he groans and shifts.
Raven takes a chance to actually look at his would-be killer. The man has
shoulder-length, blonde hair, and golden brown skin. He has tattoos on his
cheek, two curving lines across high cheek bones. When the man’s eyes flutter
open, Raven is struck once more by the pure gold of them. “Mmm... What? I...
Oh.” The man’s voice is fucking velvet, heavily accented. “I rather thought I
would wake up dead. Or… Not wake up at all, as the case may be.” He manages a
smile. “But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”
“That can be easily rectified,” Raven replies dryly.
“Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled.” The smile the man gives is
altogether too charming for comfort. “If you haven’t killed me, however, you
must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?” Raven folds his arms, fighting
down a wince as the pain reminds him of his injury. Cyri presses against his
leg, a barely audible growl leaving the dogs throat.
“You seem awfully glib, for a prisoner,” Raven grumbles, eying the man.
The man chuckles. “It is my way, or so I am told. Let’s see then. I assume you
kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you some time
and get right to the point.” The man grunts and shifts up a little more,
smiling that charming smile. “My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a
member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any
surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly.”
Antiva. Raven knows even less of the country then Orlais, and he turns to
Marilyn for help. “Antivan Crows?”
Zevran opens his mouth to answer, but Marylin beats him to it. “They’re a
highly powerful assassin organization based in Antiva. From what I know of
them, they’r ruthless and will pretty much kill any target for any buyer if the
price is good enough.”
“You would be correct, fair lady.” Zevran grins again, and Marilyn just laughs
under her breath.
“Ah.” Raven murmurs. “Well, I for one am rather happy you failed.”
“So would I be, in your shoes. For me, however, it sets a rather poor
precedent, doesn’t it? Getting captured by one’s target seems a tad
detremendrial to one’s budding assassin career.” Zevran laughs at his own joke.
“You came all the way from Antiva?” Marilyn asks, running a hand through her
hair.
“Not precisely. I was in the neighbourhood when the offer came. The Crows get
around, you see.” Zevran grins again.
Raven can’t really tell if he finds Zevran’s flippantness about the situation
annoying or endearing, but either way, his patience with said situation is
wearing thin. “Who hired you?”
“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? Yes,
that’s it,” Zevran replies, and Raven groans.
“Wonderful. As if we didn’t have enough to deal with. Is Loghain fucking
insane?” Raven turns to the others.
“We’re in the middle of a blight. What the hell does he hope to gain?” Alistair
grumbles, eying Zevran while he speaks.
“I don’t know. Maybe Raven’s onto something with the insanity theory. No sane
man says to himself, ‘You know, there’s darkspawn on my doorstep, but I want to
get rid of the one group of people that can save my ass from them. Because, you
know, logic.’” Marilyn scoffs.
“Or, maybe, he just wants to grab power while he can, and he believes he can
handle the darkspawn on his own,” Leliana sighs.
Raven pinches the bridge of his nose, looking back at Zevran, who seems to have
watched the exchange with interest. Marilyn’s eyes return to him as well, and
she says, “And are you loyal to Loghain?”
“I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You
threaten his power, yes?” Zevran tilts his head.
“Something like that,” Raven mutters.
Zevran chuckles, and continues, “Beyond that, no, I’m not loyal to him. I was
contracted to perform a service.”
Out of curiousity, Raven asks, “How much were you paid?”
“I wasn’t paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so
I understand. Which does make me as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of
it.” Zevran sighs. “Being an Antivan Crow isn’t for the ambitious, to be
perfectly honest.”
“Then why be one?” Raven watches Zevran’s expression, which, quite unnervingly,
hasn’t much changed the entire conversation. As if the man was wearing a mask—
which isn’t all that surprising. Still, unnerving how well he wears it.
“Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose it’s because I wasn’t
given much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain too, or so
I’m led to believe.” Again, Zevran appears flippant, but… bought? No one
deserves to be treated like an object. Despite his best efforts, sympathy curls
in Raven’s stomach. He does his best to ignore it.
“But don’t let my sad story influence you.” Zevran chuckles once more. “The
Crows aren’t so bad. They keep one well supplied: Wine, women, men. Whatever
you happen to fancy.” Zevran’s eyes fix on Raven’s on that one, and Raven’s
cheeks warm. “Though the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you.
If you were considering joining, I’d really think twice about it.”
Raven feels his lips twitch in amusement, and he fights it down. “When were you
going to see Loghain next?”
“I wasn’t. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would
have informed your Loghain of the results…If he didn’t already know. If I had
failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are
concerned. No need to see Loghain, then.” Zevran gives that cheerful grin once
more.
“If you had failed?” Raven arches an eyebrow.
Zevran smiles, almost sheepishly. “What can I say? I’m an eternal optimist.
Although the chances of succeeding are a bit slim at this point!” He laughs,
then the laugh trails off. “No, I don’t suppose you’d find that funny, would
you?”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Raven sighs.
“Why not?” Zevran meets his eyes. “I wasn’t paid for silence. Not that I
offered it for sale, preciously.”
“Aren’t you at least loyal to your employers?” Marilyn asks.
“Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and if you're done
interrogating me, we can discuss it further.” Raven isn’t sure he likes where
this is going.
“Alright, I’ll bite.” Marilyn shrugs her shoulders.
“Well, here’s the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That’s
how it works. If you don’t kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living.
And you are obviously the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you,
instead.” Zevran’s eyes are unreadable.
“Can I expect the same amount of loyalty from you?” Marilyn asks dryly.
“I happen to be a very loyal person,” Zevran replies pertly. “Up until the
point someone expects me to to die for failing.”
Marilyn chuckles. “Fair enough.”
“You must think I’m royallystupid,” Raven growls.
“I think you’re royally tough to kill. I’m only hopingthat you’re stupid.”
Zevran grins, but at Raven’s expression, the smile dims. “That was a joke,” he
clarifies. “Let me rephrase that. I’m hoping that you’re the sort of fellow
that takes a chance every now and then, yes?” He laughs, a little awkwardly.
“And what’s to stop you from finishing the job later?” Raven arches his
eyebrow. “I rather like living too, you know.”
Zevran chuckles. “But of course. Like I said, I was never really given much
choice regarding the Crows. I think I’ve paid my worth back to them, plus
tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can’t
touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might just kill me on principle for
failing the first time. Honestly, I’d rather just take my chances with you.”
“Won’t they come after you?” Marilyn asks.
“Possibly. I happen to know their wily ways, however. I can protect myself, as
well as you. Not that you seem to need much protecting.” He eyes Marilyn’s
bloodied sword, and Marilyn grins. “And if not, well, it’s not as if I had many
alternatives to start with, is it?”
“What do you want in return?” Raven leans on his own sword, staring Zevran
down.
“Well… Let’s see. Being able to live would be nice, and would also make me
marginally more useful to you. And somewhere down the line, if you should
decide that you no longer have need of me, then I go my way. Until then, I am
yours. Is that fair?”
Raven sighs, and looks to Marilyn. “I don’t know,” she says, eyes sparkling
with mischief. “I say we keep him, Spice.”
“Marilyn, you can’t keeppeople.” Raven crinkles his nose, irrtation flaring.
“I wouldn’t mind being kept,” Zevran pipes up, wiggling his eyebrows, and Raven
huffs.
Raven looks at Zevran, weighing his options. He doesn’t much care for the idea
of an assassin traveling with them, but Zevran’s skills were impressive (He’s
probably going to have a scar to prove it). Zevran had a point too—What real
point was there in finishing the job?
Then again, Zevran could be spinning a tale.
“I don’t know,” Raven sighs.
“We need all the help we can get,” Marilyn points out. “We could use his
skills.”
“Wait, hold on, we’re not seriously considering taking the assassinwith us?!”
Alistair finally speaks up, frowning. “Does that really seem like a good idea?”
“We coulduse him.” Raven eyes Zevran again.
“We could apparently use a swift kick to the head, too, but you don’t see me
going around asking for one.” Alistair all but pouts.
“If you want to kill him, Alistair, then be my guest.”
“I… Well, no. I suppose we could use all the help we could get. Still, if there
was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said
hello,” Alistair grumbles.
“Are you sure the sign we were desperate wasn’t our whole plan?” Raven replies
dryly.
Alistair snorts. “You have a point.”
Raven looks at Zevran. “Alright.” He sighs. “We accept your offer.”
Zevran grins. “A fine decision on your part.”
“Welcome, Zevran,” Leliana says with a kind smile. “Having an Antivan crow join
us sounds like a fine plan.”
“Oh?” Zevran directs his attention to her. “Are you another companion to be,
then? I wasn’t aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, truly.” Raven
rolls his eyes at Zevran’s words, and Leliana doesn’t seem all that amused
either.
“Or maybe not.” Her expression flattens, and Raven resists the urge to laugh.
With a final, reluctant sigh, Raven leans down and pulls out his dagger. He
cuts Zevran free of the ropes, then holds out a hand to help him up. Zevran
accepts the offer, and after being pulled to his feet, he looks Raven right in
the eye. “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you
choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation. This, I
swear.” He briefly bows his head.
Raven nods, glancing at the others. “Yeah. Okay,” he murmurs.
“I’m afraid I still don’t know your names.” Zevran smiles. “Shall I just call
you all Warden?”
Raven snorts a bit. “I’m Raven. This is Marilyn, Alistair, and Leliana.” Cyri
barks, as if to remind Raven to include him. Raven chuckles and says, “And
Cyri.”
“We should retrieve Sten and Morrigan, too,” Marilyn points out. “Unless they
just assumed we died and left, in which case…”
Raven lets out a long-suffering sigh and walks toward the fallen tree. “Okay,
let’s go.”
 
***
Raven hates traveling.
He decides this on their third day of marching. He had barely left the Alienage
before this whole mess, and he’s starting to think he shouldn’t have. For all
his fantasies of exploring the world, the reality of sweat trickling down his
armor and the sun bearing down on them dashed those ideas.
That’s fine. If he survives this madness, he’ll go back to his original plan:
Hiding in his room until the sun goes away.
Raven brushes his sweaty hair out of his eyes. That’s another thing he hates—
Being sweaty. On days where they couldn’t afford to bathe, he’d spend as much
time as possible inside or in the shade to avoid sweat.
The good news? They have one more day before they hit Redcliffe.
The bad news? He has to endure this for another fucking day.
Raven looks to his left at Zevran, who doesn’t seem to be all that pleased
either. Raven still isn’t sure how to feel about the man, and in his
uncertainty, finds himself more jumpy and paranoid than usual. He’s half
convinced this was a terrible idea, but in the skirmishes they’ve encountered
with bandits and pockets of darkspawn, Zevran does seem to be proving his
skill. As if sensing he’s the subject of Raven’s thoughts, Zevran looks over at
him and smirks. Raven rolls his eyes and looks away.  
Alistair falls into stride next to him at that moment, looking nervous and
uncertain.  Marilyn is at Alistair’s other side, a confused and slightly
concerned look on her face. “Look, um,” Alistair begins, biting his lip. “I
need to talk to you both about um. Something I probably should have told you
before.”
“You’re going to tell us you’re secretly orlesian.” Marilyn grins, blue eyes
sparkling.
Alistair blinks at her, but Raven can see the pull of a smile on his lips and
the blush on his cheeks. “No, far less exciting.” He laughs, and so does she.
Raven chuckles and gently knocks his shoulder against Alistair’s. “What’s on
your mind?”
“I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving
girl at the castle, and he took me in?” Raven nods, remembering Alistair saying
it. “The reason he did that was because, well… Because my father was King
Maric.” Raven stops walking, choking on his own spit from shock and trying to
cover it with a cough. Marilyn stops as well, blinking rapidly. “Which made
Calian my half-brother, I suppose,” Alistair finishes, fiddling with his hands.
Both Raven and Marilyn are quiet for a moment, before Marilyn says, “You’re
having us on. You’re a fucking prince?”
Alistair waves his hand. “No, I’m a Grey Warden. I just have...Royal blood, I
suppose. But I don’t want to be treated as some... prince. I just want to be
treated as me. Alistair. Bringer of bad jokes and equally bad food.”
Raven can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth. “So you’re not just a
bastard...But a royalbastard?”
Alistair’s tense shoulders relax slightly and he laughs too. “I guess I am at
that.” He laughs a little more, adding, “We should use that line more often.”
Then he sighs. “I would’ve told you, but… It never really meant anything to me.
I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Calian’s rule, and so they kept me
secret. I’ve never talked about it with anyone. Everyone who knew either
resented me for it, or they coddled me… Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting
because of it. I didn’t want you to know, as long as possible. I’m sorry.”
Raven’s eyebrows furrow. “I… Think I understand.” On one hand, if he was
Alistair, he isn’t sure he wouldn’t use being the King’s son to his advantage.
Then again, Alistair doesn’t seem like the type to do that, and Raven can
understand not wanting to be viewed differently for it.
Marilyn smiles from Alistair’s other side and bumps against him, eyes soft.
“Yeah, thanks for finally telling us, you oaf.”
Alistair laughs and relaxes fully. “You’re welcome.” The smile he gives Marilyn
is cheeky, and she rolls her eyes at him dramatically. “It’s not like I got
special treatment for it, anyhow. At any rate, that’s it, that’s what I had to
tell you. I thought you should know about it.” He scratches the back of his
neck, smiling awkwardly.
Marilyn doesn’t seem interested in letting him off that easy, and she grins and
says, “Are you sure?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Not hiding anything else?”
“Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no.
That’s it. Just the prince thing.” Alistair wiggles his eyebrows back, and
Raven snorts at the both of them. “So… Can we move on?”
Raven’s ears twitch as he replies, “As you command… My prince.”
“Oh, lovely. I’m going to regret this. Somehow I just know it.”
***
The town and the castle of Redcliffe were both in their sights, the morning air
cool as they hiked down the well-beaten path to their destination. Redcliffe
seems to have been carved into the hillside with attentive hands, waterfalls
and rivers abounding. It’s quite a sight— But Raven doesn’t like how eerily
quiet it is. Even Lothering was buzzing with an anxious energy, and Denerim
certainly never silenced. But Redcliffe was hushed, even the wildlife appearing
absent. It’s as if the whole area is holding its breath in apprehension.
Marilyn leads them down the path, her eyes fixed firmly on the single man
standing near the entrance to town. The man is fiddling with his fingers,
staring at them anxiously and rocking on his heels.
Raven frowns, fiddling with one of the health potions on his belt as they come
to stand in front of the man. “I-I thought I saw travelers coming down the
road, th-though I scarcely believed it,” the man says, his voice shaky. His
eyes are filled with tentative hope as he says, “Have you come to help us?”
“What do you mean? Is there a problem?” Marilyn’s hand comes to rest on the
hilt of the sword at her side, her voice becoming firmer and more authoritative
than what Raven has come to expect from her. Her body language changes too, her
back straightening and her shoulders setting.
The man’s eyes widen and he says, “So you… Don’t know? Has no one out there
heard?” His voice rises in pitch, desperate.
Marilyn’s eyes narrow. “I heard Arl Eamon was sick, if that’s what you mean.”
“He could be dead for all we know!” The man cries, near hysterics. “Nobody’s
heard from the castle in days! We’re under attack. Monsters come out of the
castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone’s been fighting. And
dying.”
“Well, that’s just typical, isn’t it?” Zevran sighs.
“Apparently everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start
killing each other. Marvelous, really,” Morrigan comments, rolling her eyes.
“We’ve no army to defend us, and no king to send us help. So many are dead, and
those that are left are terrified their next!” The man runs a hand through his
hair, shaking like a leaf.
“Hold on. What is this evil that’s attacking you?” Alistair asks.
“I... I don’t rightly know; I’m sorry. Nobody does. I should take you to Bann
Teagon. He’s all that’s holding us together. He’ll want to see you.” The man
gestures anxiously as he speaks.
Alistair walks up, standing by Marilyn’s side as he says, “Bann Teagon? Arl
Eamon’s brother? He’s here?”
“Yes. It’s not far, if you’ll come with me.”
Raven sighs as the man starts leading them down the path. “Should’ve known
things wouldn’t be so simple.”
“Hey, now you’re catching on.” Marilyn grins at him, ruffling his hair before
following the man into Redcliffe.
Redcliffe itself is a mess. Most of the buildings have suffered damage, boards
ripped out and windows broken. The people are fearful, the tension in the air
thick as clotted blood. Adults sharpen swords, spar, and shoot arrows at
targets, but the arrows miss and the ones sparring fall often. Some of the
people look at them, a mixture of hope and desperation in their eyes. Most
people seem too distracted to care. One man is running around, calling
someone's name and sobbing.
“Ah! What a lovely little fishing town!” Zevran remarks as they approach the
chantry. “You can almost smell the desperation of the local gentry, no?”
Raven chuckles dryly, walking up the steps. “This place is a mess.” Out of the
corner of his eye, he sees Zev smile with what looks like accomplishment.
“Indeed.”
The chantry itself seems to have become a shelter of sorts, judging from the
amount of children and families piled inside. Many of them are injured, priests
carefully tending to children’s wounds. The man leads them to the back, where
he introduces them to Bann Teagon.
Teagon is hagrid, clearly worn down and exhausted. His eyes are red-rimmed and
sunken, and as he fills them in on the situation, Raven can understand why. The
only time Teagon smiled during the whole conversation was when Alistair caught
his attention.
Though the fact that Teagon didn’t believe a shred of Loghain’s lies was good
news, the situation in Redcliffe is anything but. While Redcliffe’s numbers
diminished, Redcliffe’s attackers only grew in numbers. There were no
reinforcements coming—in fact, it seemed their merry band of misfits were to be
the reinforcements.
Teagon asks them for help, eyes desperate, and Marilyn’s eyes slide to Raven’s.
Alistair is clearly on board, and it seemed to Raven that Marilyn is too. “I
say we help,” Raven says. “We need Eamon, and the Grey Wardens are meant to
protect people. No sense in letting them die.”
Marilyn gives a firm nod as if she agrees and turns to Teagon. “Bring us up to
speed.” Teagon informs of them of the situation and tells them who they can
talk to, eyes bright with renewed hope.
Raven feels good about that. Not so good about their chances, but, well. One
step at a time.
Teagon directs them toward the mayor and a knight called Ser Perth. “We should
talk to the Mayor first.” Raven suggests as they walk out the chantry. “He
probably knows the most about what’s going on.” Marilyn gives a nod of
agreement.
Turns out, the mayor is a fucking dick.
Somewhere around Mayor Murdock making sly comments both about the Grey Warden’s
supposed murder of the king and Raven’s pointed ears, Raven loses all semblance
of pity. Raven’s arms cross as he says, “Where have you fucked up and what do
we need to do?” His voice is curt.
Alistair quickly cuts in before Murdock can react. “What my friend here means
to say is, how can we help?” Alistair sends him a look, and Raven shrugs.
“How’s morale?” Marilyn asks.
“Morale’s about what you’d expect.” Murdock eyes Raven as he speaks, eventually
looking at Marilyn. “These men aren’t soldiers. They’re men defending their
home, and they’re frightened. It would help if we had some decent equipment.
There weren’t enough swords in Owen’s shop, and the men’s armor is nearly
falling off. I don’t think we’re in any shape to fight.” He sighs. “We’ll do
our best, of course, but… Well, I have my doubts. I just hope I’m alive
tomorrow morning.”
Marilyn nods slowly. She asks a few more questions, her eyes focused and
calculating. Finally, she says, “What can we do?”
“We need what little armor and weapons we got repaired, and quickly, or half of
us will be fighting without either. Owen’s the only blacksmith who can do it,
but the stubborn fool refuses to even talk. If we’re to be ready for tonight,
we need that crotchety bastard’s help.”
“Why does he refuse to talk?”
“His daughter, Valena, is one of the arlessa’s maids. So he hasn’t heard from
her since this whole thing started. He demanded we attack the castle, break
down the gate, and force our way in. I said it was impossible, but he wouldn’t
listen. He’s locked himself in the smithy now. I can’t force him to do repairs…
He says he’d rather die first.” Murdock sighs, glancing toward what Raven
assumes is the direction of the smithy. 
“Is there anything else we can do?” Raven frowns. He thought they were screwed
before, but this… Well.
“We could use some extra bodies. Having a veteran like Dwyn in the militia
would help a lot, but he flat out refuses,” Murdock sighs. “He’s a trader, a
dwarf. Lives near the lake. Locked himself up in his home with some of his
workers, he has, says he doesn’t need any of us. We could really use someone
with his fighting experience, but he won’t come out.”
“Alright.” Marilyn uncrosses her arms and gives a small smile. “We’ll help all
we can. Keep faith. We’ll get these people out alive.”
Murdock nods. “Right,” he mumbles, looking just a little more hopeful. “Let’s
hope you’re right.”
They walk away, and Marilyn turns to look at them. “Okay. We only have so much
time before nightfall, so let’s split up. Leliana, Alistair, do you think you
could go to the chantry and see how we can help there? The Chantry is the most
vulnerable, and if there’s anything we can do to remedy that, do it.” Alistair
nods, and Marilyn gives a brief smile. “Sten, you know war.” A stoic nod. “Come
with me to see Ser Perth and see what we can do to help there.” A second stoic
nod, and Raven briefly wonders if the man even hasemotions.
Marilyn turns to him, and says, “Raven, see what you can do about that
blacksmith and the veteran. Take Zevran with you.” To Zevran himself she says,
“In your line of work, you need to know people.”
He grins. “Right you are about that.”
“Good. Use that. And if you can’t charm them into helping, I’m sure Raven has a
few tricks up his sleeve.” She sends Raven a grin, and he can’t help but smile
back. Finally, to Morrigan, she says, “Do you have any spells that can be used
to protect the town, or something defensive we can cast on the militia?
Anything along those lines?”
Morrigan pauses for a moment, then says slowly, “I may have something.”
“Then do it. And whatever else you can think of to help.” With that, they break
off and Raven and Zevran (with Cyri trotting behind) head towards the
blacksmith’s.
“Do you have any sort of plan, or are we just barging right in—“ Raven bangs on
the front door of the smithy. “I suppose my question has been answered.”
Zevran’s lips twitch, amused.
“Go away! Curse you!” There’s shouting from within, the man’s voice rough and
his words slurred. “Leave me in peace! You’ve already taken everything from my
stores, there's nothing left!”
“Is this Owen, the blacksmith?” Raven asks through the door. “I need to speak
with you.”
“Oh? Who is that? What do you want? I’ve been through enough…”
“I need to talk to you about repairs for the militia.” Raven crosses his arms,
looking over at Zevran. The other man is leaning against the wall, arms crossed
and eyebrow arched.
“That so? Well, if Murdock wants more weapons, you can give him the same answer
I did: He can make them himself.”
Stubborn makerdamned fool— “I just need to talk to you,” Raven growls through
gritted teeth. “Please.”
A heavy sigh, then, “Fine, alright. Don’t know why you're so determined. Let me
get the locks.”
While Owen fumbles with the locks inside, Raven grumbles under his breath, “I
wonder. Not like people’s lives are in danger here, or anything.”
Zevran snorts as he pushes off the wall, then wrinkles his nose as the door
swings open. Raven does the same—the potent smell of alcohol pouring from
within is overwhelming. Raven steps in, Zevran just behind him. “Quite
pleasant,” Zevran remarks dryly.
“So I let you in. You wanted to talk, now we’re talking. Mind telling me who
you are? You didn’t sound like elves through the door.” Owen leans the wall,
crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose distastefully.
“Maker’s breath,” Raven mumbles, eyes drifting to the ceiling as he takes a
slow, deep breath. “Look, just. My name is Raven, I’m a Grey Warden, helping
Bann Teagon.”
“A Grey Warden, huh?” Owen snorts. “Takes all kinds…” Raven’s temper flares
again, and maybe catching on despite his intoxicated state, Owen quickly speaks
again, “Anyhow. My name’s Owen, though you already know that. Care to join me
as I get besotted, or is there something else you wanted?”
“Not very bright, is he?” Zevran murmurs to Raven, seemingly content to watch
things unfold.
Raven hides a smile as he responds to Owen’s inquiry. “The Militia needs your
help desperately.”
“Why should I help Murdock when he won’t help me, hmm?” Owen’s nose wrinkles,
and Raven’s shoulders tense. “My girl, Valena, is one of the Arlessa’s maids
and she’s trapped up there in the castle, but the mayor won’t send anyone for
her. She’s been my life since my wife passed two years ago. Now she’s dead, or
soon to be. I don’t care what happens to me, or the village, or anyone!”
“Okay.” Raven nods slowly, meeting Owen’s eyes. “I have to ask though, are you
stupid, or just plain stubborn?”
“What?!”
“You heard me.” Raven steps forward. “How do you think this,” he gestures to
the mess of a blacksmith, “Helps your daughter at all?”
“I, well—“
“No one can help her if everyone’s dead. You realize that? If she’s alive, then
you're condemning her to death. I’m going to that castle if we survive tonight,
and I’ll look for her, but I can’t do that if everyone I’m trying to save dies
because you were too fucking stupid to help them. This isn’t your decision to
make. No one can help her right now—so pick up a hammer and make sure they
fucking can.”
Silence falls over the smithy, and Owen stares at him for a long, painful
moment. Then he licks dry lips and squares his shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah.” He
frowns, nodding. “You’ve… You’ve got a point. But. But you’ll look for her? My
daughter?”
“You have my word.” Raven relaxes, unfolding his arms.
“Then you’ve got a deal. Tell Murdock to send his men here.” Owen turns to the
forge and says over his shoulder, “Unless you want to buy something, get outta
my hair. I’ve got work to do, it seems.”
Raven smirks in satisfaction, giving a short nod. “Fair enough,” he responds,
leaving with Zevran at his side.
After reporting the success to the mayor, the two head to Dwyn’s home. Raven
eyes the lake as they walk there, watching the water. “Is something the
matter?” Zevran’s voice knocks him out of the stupor he’s in, and he turns to
meet bright gold eyes.
“Hm? Oh, no. I’ve just never gotten close to,” Raven gestures awkwardly at the
lake, “Anything like that before.”
Zevran studies him, curiosity shining in his eyes. “No lakes where your from?”
Raven hesitates, then says, “Sorta. I never really left the inner city, and
never traveled before this. I’m from Denerim. The alienage there. Denerim’s on
the Amaranthine ocean, but I only ever got glimpses of it.”
“Oh?” Zevran’s smiling, but his expression is again, largely unreadable. “I
confess, I am quite curious. If Fereldan alienages are anything like Antivan
ones, there are not many opportunities for elves there, no? Certainly not to
rise to the title of Grey Warden.”
Raven chuckles softly, “No, there really isn’t. I’m… Well. I suppose luck
doesn’t have much to do with it, considering the circumstances.” His lips
twitch in a small, sardonic smile, before he switches the topic. “What about
where you're from? I know nothing about Antiva. Where did you grow up?”
“I hail from the great Antiva City.” Zevran smiles, and his voice sounds warmer
now, more...excited, maybe. “It is much warmer in Antiva, your Fereldan is very
cold.” Raven chuckles, nodding agreement. As if reminded of the colder weather
by talking about it, Zevran shivers lightly, his ears pressing against his
head. It’s… rather cute. “How do you stand it?” His nose crinkles a little.
Raven snorts. “Fereldans are supposedly warm blooded. Personally, I prefer the
cold to the heat. At least the cold can be fought against with blankets. The
heat? It’s impossible to escape.”
“Unless you shed layers.” Zevran gives him a smirk and Raven rolls his eyes,
feeling his face heat up.
“Even then! Then you’re just sweaty and naked. It’s awful.” Raven pauses, then,
“Well, I suppose in certain situations being sweaty and naked isn’t that bad…”
Zevran full-on laughs, and Raven can’t help but chuckle along. “So you do have
a sense of humor!” Zevran teases, and Raven laughs more.
“Forgive me for not letting it show after nearly being killed.” Raven retorts,
smiling. Despite himself, Raven finds that he’s warming up to Zevran. He still
wouldn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, but… He does make for
pleasant company.
Raven stops in front of their destination, looking the small house up and down.
He knocks on the door, heaving a sigh when there’s no response. “Hello?” He
calls. Nothing again, and Raven looks at Zevran. “Do you know how to pick the
lock?”
Zevran eyes it. “It looks a little different from locks in Antiva, but I can
give it a shot.” He kneels in front of the lock, pulling a small lock-pick set
from his bag and getting to work. Raven watches anxiously, rocking on his heels
and biting his nails. He hears Zevran mutter a few curses under his breath in
what Raven presumes to be Antivan. A few minutes and several broken lockpicks
later, Zevran huffs and steps away. “It’s jammed.” He’s glaring at the lock
like the object has purposefully spited him.
“Well. Plan B, then,” Raven mutters, walking up to the door as Zevran steps
back. He studies the lock for a moment, before stepping back and using the
force of a sharp, downwards kick to break the lock off. Zevran chuckles, and
Raven looks back to give him a wry smile, before pushing open the door.
“Wonderful. Intruders.” They’re greeted by a irritated, stout dwarf, flanked on
either side by what seems like bodyguards. “I hope you’ve a good reason for
breaking and entering into my home.”
“Apologies,” Raven says. “We don’t mean any harm.”
“Apology accepted. The name’s Dywn, pleased to meet you—now get out,” Dwyn
grunts, arms crossing.
“Now, let’s not be hasty.” Zevran smiles, spreading his hands. “We have but a
simple request in that you help with tonight’s battle.”
Dwyn snorts, glaring directly at Zevran now. “I told you what I told Murdock,
I’m not risking my neck for this town.”
Is everyone in this town a fucking asshole?Raven bites down the words, instead
glancing over at Zevran as he speaks again. “Are you sure there’s nothing that
could change your mind..? Perhaps a good word with the arl?”
Dwyn perks up, looking intrigued now. “Really? You two could do that?”
“Considering I’m a Grey Warden currently in the process of saving his town,
yeah,” Raven says dryly. “I think we could manage that.”
Dwyn nods slowly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll throw in with the Militia. For now. You
better be there too, when the sun goes down. I’m not fighting for a lost cause,
you hear me?”
Raven lets a smile slip onto his face.
“Loud and clear.”
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you all so much for reading and I sincerely hoped you enjoy~!
     "Me and Raven are going to have a throwdown in an alley, and he's
     going to win because he is tall and stronk and I am small and fat and
     then i'm going to cry in an alley." -something I actually said while
     whining to my lovely best friend
End Notes
     Please leave a comment telling me what you thought! Constructive
     criticism and opinions are always appreciated, (No hate please!) and
     kudos make my day!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
