a midwinter's thaw, chapter 55
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Title: A Midwinter's Thaw, Chapter 55
Author(s): w0rdinista and the ebullient pagerunner_j
Characters: Alistair, Elinora Cousland, and a slowly-growing cast of thousands
Rating: T
Pairing: Cousland/Alistair
Summary: It's eight years after the Archdemon's defeat, eight years after Loghain's heroic death on the top of Fort Drakon, and eight years after Alistair stormed out of the Landsmeet, never to be seen again. It's five years since Elinora took up the mantle of teyrna of Highever after Fergus remarried and became King in the process. Now Alistair and Elinora are back together in Highever, with trouble brewing all around. On top of that, the royal family has come to visit, three more Wardens are in attendance, and the Wardens' worrying dreams have returned, along with even greater troubles and tragedies. Anders and Nathaniel were assigned overnight watch -- what did they see, and -- more importantly -- what does it mean?
It was not the most auspicious beginning to Elinora's day. The Wardens met in the library directly after Anders and Nathaniel's overnight patrol (and before breakfast, which, combined with the news they had to deliver, was doing positively nothing for Anders' mood), and they brought with them some particularly unsettling news. Elinora looked at her cup of tea and found herself wishing for something stronger - far, far stronger. Possibly even fermented. She set the cup down with a slow, controlled movement, and turned her gaze up to Anders and Nathaniel.
"So you did see him."
Nathaniel sighed. Despite Anders' rejuvenation spell, he looked drawn and exhausted, and Elinora felt a momentary flash of irritation with herself for not requesting more Wardens when she wrote Varel. "Barely," he said. "He didn't get particularly close."
"And he was alone," Anders added, folding his arms and looking more than a little puzzled at this particular fact. "Neither of us sensed any darkspawn to speak of."
"You're sure it was Korath, then?" Alistair asked, standing by one of the library chairs, arms folded, his own tea untouched. Ser Pounce-a-Lot, glad to be free of Anders' pack, rubbed slowly against his leg. Nathaniel nodded grimly and Alistair shook his head, reaching down to pet the cat absently. "That doesn't seem to follow his usual pattern."
"What we saw matches what Captain Anselm reported from the Parrish farm," explained Nathaniel. "He's neither man nor dragon - as if he somehow got caught mid-shift. He's winged, but… malformed. Misshapen."
"Which could happen if he hadn't enough mana to sustain a shift from one shape to another," supplied Anders. "Or any number of reasons, really - hard to guess when he's doing so much so wrong. He's broken so many rules of nature, it only makes sense that what he is now is the furthest thing from natural."
Elinora pinched the bridge of her nose. "All right. What exactly did you see, besides his shape? Any distinct behaviors?"
"Well," Anders began, "He was taking care to maintain a significant distance. If I had to guess, I'd say he was trying to stay out of smiting distance. Which tells me he wasn't close enough to see us, either."
Elinora's fingers drummed restlessly against the table. "And he simply... circled the area and… left?"
Nathaniel gave a slow nod. "I confess I'd initially thought he was going to make a run for your stables, but he simply… circled the area once."
"Like a vulture," muttered Alistair.
"Or a hawk," added Elinora darkly, liking that comparison even less; she had no intention of being anyone's prey. "From that height, whether he got close or not, he'd be able to see the full layout of the castle, and the surrounding lands." She frowned, grinding her teeth. "Assuming he's more interested in the layout than who happened to be on patrol that night, I think it's important we ask ourselves what advantage can Korath hope to gain from such a vantage point."
She didn't want to say it. Didn't want to think it.
"He could be planning an attack on the castle," said Nathaniel quietly, giving voice to the very thoughts Elinora did not wish to entertain.
"Would he, though?" asked Mikarra. "It seems awfully… obvious."
Anders let out a soft snort. "He hasn't exactly been the epitome of subtlety so far."
Elinora rubbed a hand over her face, thinking furiously. "You both make excellent points. And we must be careful not to make too many assumptions here. The facts are that Korath was sighted a significant distance away, he brought no darkspawn with him, and circled the area once, so far as we know. Anything else?" she asked, looking expectantly at Nathaniel and Anders, but both Wardens shook their heads. Elinora nodded once. "Very well. What conclusions can we safely draw, without losing ourselves to speculation, then?"
"I think it's safe to say he had no intention of engaging us," Alistair said, slowly sinking into his chair. "Not if he came alone."
"I concur," replied Elinora. She looked around her. "Anything else?"
Mikarra cleared her throat softly. "He may have been trying to gain additional intelligence. It may have been as simple as him wanting to know what you're planning to do about him."
"I think that's likely as well." Elinora took a moment to rub away the crease forming between her brows. "So. I think we can all agree that he was attempting a bit of reconnaissance."
"Perhaps not all that much of a surprise if he managed to figure out that we were at Stern's Cave," Anders added. "I can't think of how he'd know, but it's something worth keeping in mind, Elinora."
She nodded slowly. "True." She thought hard for a moment, raking her hands through her hair. There really seemed no other way around it - she'd wanted more time to prepare, more opportunity to plan, but if Korath was watching them, the situation had become even more dire. She would not let anyone beyond the walls of her home. Elinora didn't care if the Archdemon itself sent wave upon wave of freshly-spawned darkspawn to her door - Castle Cousland would not be breached again.
"We need to strike."
Elinora looked up sharply, half surprised that the words hadn't come from her own mouth, for she was surely thinking them, and had been on the verge of saying them. But it hadn't been her voice - it had been Alistair's. He sat at the end of the table, looking for all the world like it was his home at risk now.
Then again, Elinora thought, perhaps it is.
Suddenly he looked at her, his expression unsure, as if he suddenly worried he'd spoken out of turn. But Elinora only nodded. "We do. We've been trying to keep the castle and town secure while we learn more about Korath, but if he's trying to craft his own strategy now, we cannot afford to remain on the defensive."
"All right, Commander," Anders began, but Elinora silenced him with a look.
"I'm not-"
"Listen, if you don't want to be called Commander, then stop acting like a commander. Simple as that. And since I think you're as likely to stop that as to stop breathing, you're simply going to have to deal with it." Anders stopped and winked at her, grinning. "This one last time, at least."
"You barely called me Commander when I was."
"I did so," Anders countered, looking wounded and put upon. "It was a very boring month."
A smile finally cracked through and Elinora shook her head at her friend. "As I was saying, we cannot afford to remain on the defensive. We need to prepare - I want to take a handful of knights with us into the caves - safety in numbers, after all. Anders," she said, addressing the mage, "if those tunnels are home to darkspawn, they're probably dripping with the darkspawn taint-"
"And isn't that a pretty picture."
"We're immune to it, but my knights won't be. What can we do about that?"
"There is a potion I know of that should protect them temporarily." He made a face, then. "It was initially crafted by a duplicitous bastard, as I understand it, but he was a brilliant duplicitous bastard all the same."
"As the resident bastard," Alistair riposted, "I take offense to that."
"I did say duplicitous." Anders arched an eyebrow at Alistair. "I don't think you could tell a convincing lie to save your life."
"How long will it take to craft the potion? And do you have everything you need for it?" asked Elinora. Anders considered it for a moment or two.
"I believe I have everything on hand - I may have to pop out to the woods for a bit of eye of newt or toe of frog-" upon seeing the expressions around him, Anders rolled his eyes. "Oh, Maker's breath, I am kidding." He let out a sigh and shook his head. "As for how long it'll take, that would depend primarily upon how many knights you want to bring. If you want to double our force and bring five, I'd say... it might take me a full day to craft it - maybe a day and a half."
"So at the earliest, we can be ready to take the caves tomorrow evening."
"If I'm quick about it, yes."
Elinora nodded slowly, steepling her fingers. "Good. Do it. First, though," she looked at both Anders and Nathaniel as she spoke, "I want you to both get some real sleep. Anders, do not push yourself and try to sneak by on rejuvenation spells -" And at that, Anders had at least the grace to look sheepish. "That's an order. You're to get some proper rest and begin work on those potions the moment you can."
"Of course."
"Mikarra," Elinora said, turning her attention to the other mage. "You're to help Anders get started on the potions. After Nathaniel's had a bit of proper rest, the three of us will head out to patrol the perimeter."
"Yes, Elinora," Mikarra said with a sure nod, sneaking only the slightest worried glance at Nathaniel, who was masking his fatigue exceptionally well.
"Alistair," she began, turning to face him. He was, as she might have suspected, looking incredibly displeased with the fact that he'd not been included in the patrol party. "I want you on the wall. If Korath is watching us, I want to make sure we're watching for him."
He frowned and shook his head. "Elinora, I'd be much more effective on the ground with you."
"No, I need you up there. If you see him, I want you to try and hit him with a smite - disable him. Stun him. Something."
"You want me to try and hit him with a holy smite while he's in midair?" Alistair asked, incredulity spreading across his features. Elinora smiled at him.
"And now you know why I want you up there."
"You can't seriously want me to just… wait around up there for him to show himself."
"Absolutely not," Elinora briskly replied. "I'm putting you in charge of a complement of knights - ideally the same ones we'll be taking along into the caves once we're ready. Most of them have never encountered darkspawn of any sort before." She paused, sending Alistair a tiny, enigmatic smile. "Lead them."
He gave her a heavy sigh, tilted with a smile. "Very well, Commander."
"Oh, don't you start," she said. "All right -- I need to select the knights for our venture, get them debriefed… the rest of you, to your posts. We should start right away."
"One thing," Nathaniel said, gesturing subtly for her attention. "Your brother approached me this morning on the way here. There's something he said he wishes to speak to you about…."
"About Korath? Or--"
"No, he said it was an unrelated matter. But he didn't mention what."
Elinora sighed. "As much as I hate to say this, if it's unrelated to our current crisis, he is simply going to have to wait."
"Ooh," Anders said. "We get to tell the king to shove off? Really?"
"Anders," she said warningly. Mikarra stifled a small laugh. Elinora took the moment to look over her Wardens, then finished, "Come on, everyone. Let's get to work."
---
In Anders' and Mikarra's workroom, the air stung with the scent of brewing potions.
Anders had to admit, the odor of it all made him uncomfortable. This was meant to be a protective spell, but anything associated with darkspawn blood, even in antidote form, tended to rattle the brain and irritate the senses. Mikarra bore it with stoic silence. Anders wasn't really the type.
"This stuff," he quipped, while waving away an unpleasant puff of fumes, "better do its job as advertised, because otherwise I've given myself a headache the size of the Bannorn for no good reason, and that is not to be borne."
Mikarra raised an eyebrow at him. "How are we to know if it works?"
He looked up at her and grimaced. "How else? We test it."
As if on cue, there was a knock. "Sers," a young voice called. "I've found that last herb you need…."
Anders grinned to himself. "Come on in, Allan," he said. Markham's younger brother opened the door and hustled in, eager as anything to help out. He was carrying a small paper packet.
"Had to get this from Sister Irna," he said, a little breathlessly. "She said she uses it now and then in incense, but she's never heard of it being used in a potion like this…."
"Well, next time she brews a potion like this, we can compare notes," Anders said. He took the packet and sniffed. Undoubtedly it would be fragrant under other circumstances, but here and now, it barely even registered. Pity.
"All right," Anders said. "Let's finish this dose off."
"How's the potion meant to work?" said Allan. Anders raised an eyebrow, but the boy seemed genuinely curious. After days of people being suspicious at him -- Adeline excepted, and for that Anders was still grateful -- he hadn't known quite what to make of Allan at first. After a couple hours, he was now convinced that if they weren't careful, Allan would be following them back to Vigil's Keep, peppering them with questions all the way.
He smiled faintly and tapped the rim of the flask.
"This builds up your resistance to darkspawn blood," he said. "It's not a permanent fix; it lasts for a few hours. Without this herb? Maybe two. With?" He opened the packet and pulled off the smallest leaf, crumbling it between forefinger and thumb over the flask. The liquid within clouded briefly. "It works as a preservative. So -- four to five."
"Wow," Allan said, eyebrows raised. "One small smelly plant does that?"
"You'd be amazed what a few small smelly plants can do," Mikarra said.
"And… does it take a mage to learn how to do potions like this? Or can anyone learn? I mean, if it's just about mixing ingredients, like a reci--"
Anders flashed a tiny bolt of lightning into the flask. Allan cleared his throat. "All right, I can't do that," he said.
"The same thing could have been accomplished with ordinary heat," Mikarra said.
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" Anders glanced up. "In any case, it's ready. I think we need our test subjects."
Allan looked surprised to be addressed so, then grinned. "I'll go get them."
Mikarra watched Allan dash out the door and sighed softly. "How does anyone keep up that kind of enthusiasm in the middle of all this?"
"It's a good thing someone is," Anders said dryly. Mikarra let that go without comment.
A few minutes later, Allan returned with a line of people in tow. Anders recognized Markham and Perrin; the other three were less familiar, but introduced themselves as Tristan, Alec and Tomas, members of Elinora's castle guard. Allan showed them all in, then hovered behind like he was sure he should leave, but didn't want to. Anders thought about it, then mentally shrugged. There was no harm in letting him see, and after all, if anything went wrong, an extra set of hands wouldn't hurt.
It was, after all, entirely possible for something to go wrong.
Anders lifted the flask again. They'd brewed only a small sample -- making the full batch would take considerably more time -- but after an hour, this was enough to detect whether or not they were on the right track. It wasn't a commonly produced potion, for one simple reason: although it was terribly useful when it worked, some people reacted badly to it, and who might reject it was unpredictable at best. Anders sighed, resigning himself to an eventful -- not to mention messy -- afternoon if this didn't go as planned.
"I have the blood vial," Mikarra said, her voice catching on the last two words. Anders suspected she was having trouble not calling it a phylactery.
Anders studied the vial in her hand, and nodded. Then he rounded the table to speak to the knights, while Mikarra rubbed her nose and set about preparing the skin test.
"We're going to keep this simple," Anders said. "This potion should, if all goes well, protect you from darkspawn infection. But we're not going to send you out into the field untested, so this will help us make sure everything works. Each of you will try a small dose of the potion, and then Mikarra here will scratch a small patch of skin on your inner arm--"
She held up a long, narrow-edged blade, inspecting it for her own purposes but showing it off on cue just the same. Anders heard Allan whistle.
"--and put one drop of darkspawn blood on the wound. It's not enough to infect you outright, but it will cause a reaction if the potion doesn't work. Sometimes it doesn't. People have to go and be unique and complicate matters all the time… it's very trying." He heaved a sigh. "Also, some people take one gulp of the potion and vomit for three days straight. If you must, the door is right behind you; please do it outside."
Mikarra cleared her throat. Anders turned and took the proffered cup. "All that said," he went on, "who'll be our first volunteer?"
There was a moment of silence and shuffling, and then a sigh even more long-suffering than his own. It belonged to Ser Perrin, who stepped forward first. Anders found himself unsurprised, somehow. "Bottoms up," Anders said, passing the potion sample over.
Perrin took it, considered it with some suspicion, then grimaced in advance of even swallowing. He was still grimacing, his eyes squeezed shut, when he was done. He got it down, though, and offered his arm without fuss. Mikarra held it steady, made a quick, fine scratch, and then tapped a single, black drop onto his pale skin. "You all right, then?" Markham said under his breath. Perrin watched his arm as if he were studying some strange and foreign object. So did Mikarra, who waited a moment before she swabbed it clean. Other than the scratch, his skin was unmarked.
"You're fine," she said. Perrin nodded, letting out only the tiniest breath to indicate relief. He rolled his sleeve back down and waved Alec forward.
All proceeded remarkably painlessly -- Anders took a moment to feel proud of his potion-brewing skills -- until Tristan's turn. He was the last Anders would have pegged for trouble. He was built like your average golem: tall, broad, muscular, would take a battering ram to knock him down. The potion, though, instantly made him green at the gills. Markham and Allan hurried forward to help him sit down; he went down heavily, looking shaky and pale. Mikarra's hands hesitated on her tools. A few seconds later, though, he gulped in a breath, clenched one hand in a fist, and thrust out the arm. "Do it," he gritted out. "I can keep it down."
"This was only a partial dose," Mikarra warned him. "Are you sure?"
Tristan fixed her with a stare. "I have to be."
She watched him a while, then silently did the test. His skin stayed clear. Tristan let out a sigh of relief, then wobbled to his feet. After a few seconds more, he steadied. "I'll be all right," he said. "Just… have to get used to that stuff."
Anders hoped he was right.
Markham, last in the line, took his cup and gave it a skeptical sniff. "Well. I've had worse," he said confidently, and tossed it back. Anders winced just watching his reaction. He tensed up, then spluttered; a few hacking coughs later, he shook his head, swore violently, and visibly suppressed the urge to spit. Then finally he let out a long phew and said, "All right -- not much worse."
Mikarra smiled faintly, scratched his arm and dropped the blood onto his skin. Markham had begun to relax, obviously believing the worst was over. Then he frowned. "Is it supposed to itch?" he said.
They all looked at his arm.
"It's not discoloring," Mikarra said, gently swabbing the spot clean. Allan crowded closer, frowning in concern; Anders bent forward to squint from the other side. "It looks just fine…."
Markham gritted his teeth. "Doesn't feel fine," he said. "Ow."
Mikarra swept her fingertips over the surface. Seconds went by. "It's not getting worse," she said, gently feeling the spot and rubbing her thumb back and forth there. Markham eventually made a weary laugh.
"Under any other circumstances," he said, "I would probably be making a rude joke about this."
"You can make an even ruder one now," Anders said, and put his hand over the scratch. A small wave of healing energy later, Markham relaxed. Anders and Mikarra studied each other a moment.
"Maybe a stronger dose?" Mikarra suggested.
"Possibly," Anders said. He caught Markham's gaze. "Or there's always the expedient of not letting the darkspawn bleed on you."
"Which might mean finding backup," Mikarra said quietly.
Markham frowned. "Uh-uh. Like he said" -- he jerked his head towards Tristan -- "I'm going out there. I have to be ready."
That said, he was still scratching his arm. Anders smelled what was left of the potion and mulled it over. "I'll brew up a second batch," he said. "Might take me longer…."
"I have to go join patrols soon," Mikarra said.
Anders nodded. "I'm all right. I'll just be busy here for a little while longer." He gave Markham a crooked smile. "You had to go and be difficult, didn't you?"
Markham grinned. "I'm good at that," he said.
"He's certainly had plenty of practice," Perrin muttered dryly. But even Anders noted that the knight was watching his friend with some concern. A stronger batch, then, he thought as the knights filed out, leaving Mikarra and young Allen.
"Looks like it's back to the grindstone," said Anders, blowing out a deep breath and cracking his knuckles. "Allan, be a good lad and see Sister Irna about more of that smelly plant you brought me. I'm going to need more of it if I'm to concoct an entire batch. And you," he added, nodding at Mikarra, who was peering thoughtfully at what remained of the potion, "ought to get off to patrol. The mood Elinora's in, I wouldn't keep her waiting."
Mikarra let out a patient sigh. "The mood she's in isn't helped by the way you incessantly provoke her, you know. Must you?"
Anders only shook his head and started measuring out the ingredients for another batch of potion. "I've been teasing her for so long, she'd worry if I stopped." He glanced up and caught Mikarra looking so very incredulous that he couldn't help but laugh. "Trust me, Mikarra. She needs what levity she can get right now."
"Anders-"
"Now run along, Kari -" he said, neatly cutting her off, "or you'll be late for patrol. Our fearless leader may not like being provoked, but she likes tardiness even less."
Mikarra let out a sigh of long-suffering patience as she made her way to the door, opening it. "Please don't call me that."
Anders only grinned at the elf. "Oh, but you'd worry if I stopped."
A beat of silence passed as Mikarra just looked at him. Several seconds ticked by when finally she shook her head, letting out a helpless little laugh. "You know, sometimes I can't tell if you're truly clever, Anders, or just mad."
"I like to think a little of both," replied Anders. "Keeps things interesting."
Title: A Midwinter's Thaw, Chapter 55
Author(s): w0rdinista and the ebullient pagerunner_j
Characters: Alistair, Elinora Cousland, and a slowly-growing cast of thousands
Rating: T
Pairing: Cousland/Alistair
Summary: It's eight years after the Archdemon's defeat, eight years after Loghain's heroic death on the top of Fort Drakon, and eight years after Alistair stormed out of the Landsmeet, never to be seen again. It's five years since Elinora took up the mantle of teyrna of Highever after Fergus remarried and became King in the process. Now Alistair and Elinora are back together in Highever, with trouble brewing all around. On top of that, the royal family has come to visit, three more Wardens are in attendance, and the Wardens' worrying dreams have returned, along with even greater troubles and tragedies. Anders and Nathaniel were assigned overnight watch -- what did they see, and -- more importantly -- what does it mean?
It was not the most auspicious beginning to Elinora's day. The Wardens met in the library directly after Anders and Nathaniel's overnight patrol (and before breakfast, which, combined with the news they had to deliver, was doing positively nothing for Anders' mood), and they brought with them some particularly unsettling news. Elinora looked at her cup of tea and found herself wishing for something stronger - far, far stronger. Possibly even fermented. She set the cup down with a slow, controlled movement, and turned her gaze up to Anders and Nathaniel.
"So you did see him."
Nathaniel sighed. Despite Anders' rejuvenation spell, he looked drawn and exhausted, and Elinora felt a momentary flash of irritation with herself for not requesting more Wardens when she wrote Varel. "Barely," he said. "He didn't get particularly close."
"And he was alone," Anders added, folding his arms and looking more than a little puzzled at this particular fact. "Neither of us sensed any darkspawn to speak of."
"You're sure it was Korath, then?" Alistair asked, standing by one of the library chairs, arms folded, his own tea untouched. Ser Pounce-a-Lot, glad to be free of Anders' pack, rubbed slowly against his leg. Nathaniel nodded grimly and Alistair shook his head, reaching down to pet the cat absently. "That doesn't seem to follow his usual pattern."
"What we saw matches what Captain Anselm reported from the Parrish farm," explained Nathaniel. "He's neither man nor dragon - as if he somehow got caught mid-shift. He's winged, but… malformed. Misshapen."
"Which could happen if he hadn't enough mana to sustain a shift from one shape to another," supplied Anders. "Or any number of reasons, really - hard to guess when he's doing so much so wrong. He's broken so many rules of nature, it only makes sense that what he is now is the furthest thing from natural."
Elinora pinched the bridge of her nose. "All right. What exactly did you see, besides his shape? Any distinct behaviors?"
"Well," Anders began, "He was taking care to maintain a significant distance. If I had to guess, I'd say he was trying to stay out of smiting distance. Which tells me he wasn't close enough to see us, either."
Elinora's fingers drummed restlessly against the table. "And he simply... circled the area and… left?"
Nathaniel gave a slow nod. "I confess I'd initially thought he was going to make a run for your stables, but he simply… circled the area once."
"Like a vulture," muttered Alistair.
"Or a hawk," added Elinora darkly, liking that comparison even less; she had no intention of being anyone's prey. "From that height, whether he got close or not, he'd be able to see the full layout of the castle, and the surrounding lands." She frowned, grinding her teeth. "Assuming he's more interested in the layout than who happened to be on patrol that night, I think it's important we ask ourselves what advantage can Korath hope to gain from such a vantage point."
She didn't want to say it. Didn't want to think it.
"He could be planning an attack on the castle," said Nathaniel quietly, giving voice to the very thoughts Elinora did not wish to entertain.
"Would he, though?" asked Mikarra. "It seems awfully… obvious."
Anders let out a soft snort. "He hasn't exactly been the epitome of subtlety so far."
Elinora rubbed a hand over her face, thinking furiously. "You both make excellent points. And we must be careful not to make too many assumptions here. The facts are that Korath was sighted a significant distance away, he brought no darkspawn with him, and circled the area once, so far as we know. Anything else?" she asked, looking expectantly at Nathaniel and Anders, but both Wardens shook their heads. Elinora nodded once. "Very well. What conclusions can we safely draw, without losing ourselves to speculation, then?"
"I think it's safe to say he had no intention of engaging us," Alistair said, slowly sinking into his chair. "Not if he came alone."
"I concur," replied Elinora. She looked around her. "Anything else?"
Mikarra cleared her throat softly. "He may have been trying to gain additional intelligence. It may have been as simple as him wanting to know what you're planning to do about him."
"I think that's likely as well." Elinora took a moment to rub away the crease forming between her brows. "So. I think we can all agree that he was attempting a bit of reconnaissance."
"Perhaps not all that much of a surprise if he managed to figure out that we were at Stern's Cave," Anders added. "I can't think of how he'd know, but it's something worth keeping in mind, Elinora."
She nodded slowly. "True." She thought hard for a moment, raking her hands through her hair. There really seemed no other way around it - she'd wanted more time to prepare, more opportunity to plan, but if Korath was watching them, the situation had become even more dire. She would not let anyone beyond the walls of her home. Elinora didn't care if the Archdemon itself sent wave upon wave of freshly-spawned darkspawn to her door - Castle Cousland would not be breached again.
"We need to strike."
Elinora looked up sharply, half surprised that the words hadn't come from her own mouth, for she was surely thinking them, and had been on the verge of saying them. But it hadn't been her voice - it had been Alistair's. He sat at the end of the table, looking for all the world like it was his home at risk now.
Then again, Elinora thought, perhaps it is.
Suddenly he looked at her, his expression unsure, as if he suddenly worried he'd spoken out of turn. But Elinora only nodded. "We do. We've been trying to keep the castle and town secure while we learn more about Korath, but if he's trying to craft his own strategy now, we cannot afford to remain on the defensive."
"All right, Commander," Anders began, but Elinora silenced him with a look.
"I'm not-"
"Listen, if you don't want to be called Commander, then stop acting like a commander. Simple as that. And since I think you're as likely to stop that as to stop breathing, you're simply going to have to deal with it." Anders stopped and winked at her, grinning. "This one last time, at least."
"You barely called me Commander when I was."
"I did so," Anders countered, looking wounded and put upon. "It was a very boring month."
A smile finally cracked through and Elinora shook her head at her friend. "As I was saying, we cannot afford to remain on the defensive. We need to prepare - I want to take a handful of knights with us into the caves - safety in numbers, after all. Anders," she said, addressing the mage, "if those tunnels are home to darkspawn, they're probably dripping with the darkspawn taint-"
"And isn't that a pretty picture."
"We're immune to it, but my knights won't be. What can we do about that?"
"There is a potion I know of that should protect them temporarily." He made a face, then. "It was initially crafted by a duplicitous bastard, as I understand it, but he was a brilliant duplicitous bastard all the same."
"As the resident bastard," Alistair riposted, "I take offense to that."
"I did say duplicitous." Anders arched an eyebrow at Alistair. "I don't think you could tell a convincing lie to save your life."
"How long will it take to craft the potion? And do you have everything you need for it?" asked Elinora. Anders considered it for a moment or two.
"I believe I have everything on hand - I may have to pop out to the woods for a bit of eye of newt or toe of frog-" upon seeing the expressions around him, Anders rolled his eyes. "Oh, Maker's breath, I am kidding." He let out a sigh and shook his head. "As for how long it'll take, that would depend primarily upon how many knights you want to bring. If you want to double our force and bring five, I'd say... it might take me a full day to craft it - maybe a day and a half."
"So at the earliest, we can be ready to take the caves tomorrow evening."
"If I'm quick about it, yes."
Elinora nodded slowly, steepling her fingers. "Good. Do it. First, though," she looked at both Anders and Nathaniel as she spoke, "I want you to both get some real sleep. Anders, do not push yourself and try to sneak by on rejuvenation spells -" And at that, Anders had at least the grace to look sheepish. "That's an order. You're to get some proper rest and begin work on those potions the moment you can."
"Of course."
"Mikarra," Elinora said, turning her attention to the other mage. "You're to help Anders get started on the potions. After Nathaniel's had a bit of proper rest, the three of us will head out to patrol the perimeter."
"Yes, Elinora," Mikarra said with a sure nod, sneaking only the slightest worried glance at Nathaniel, who was masking his fatigue exceptionally well.
"Alistair," she began, turning to face him. He was, as she might have suspected, looking incredibly displeased with the fact that he'd not been included in the patrol party. "I want you on the wall. If Korath is watching us, I want to make sure we're watching for him."
He frowned and shook his head. "Elinora, I'd be much more effective on the ground with you."
"No, I need you up there. If you see him, I want you to try and hit him with a smite - disable him. Stun him. Something."
"You want me to try and hit him with a holy smite while he's in midair?" Alistair asked, incredulity spreading across his features. Elinora smiled at him.
"And now you know why I want you up there."
"You can't seriously want me to just… wait around up there for him to show himself."
"Absolutely not," Elinora briskly replied. "I'm putting you in charge of a complement of knights - ideally the same ones we'll be taking along into the caves once we're ready. Most of them have never encountered darkspawn of any sort before." She paused, sending Alistair a tiny, enigmatic smile. "Lead them."
He gave her a heavy sigh, tilted with a smile. "Very well, Commander."
"Oh, don't you start," she said. "All right -- I need to select the knights for our venture, get them debriefed… the rest of you, to your posts. We should start right away."
"One thing," Nathaniel said, gesturing subtly for her attention. "Your brother approached me this morning on the way here. There's something he said he wishes to speak to you about…."
"About Korath? Or--"
"No, he said it was an unrelated matter. But he didn't mention what."
Elinora sighed. "As much as I hate to say this, if it's unrelated to our current crisis, he is simply going to have to wait."
"Ooh," Anders said. "We get to tell the king to shove off? Really?"
"Anders," she said warningly. Mikarra stifled a small laugh. Elinora took the moment to look over her Wardens, then finished, "Come on, everyone. Let's get to work."
---
In Anders' and Mikarra's workroom, the air stung with the scent of brewing potions.
Anders had to admit, the odor of it all made him uncomfortable. This was meant to be a protective spell, but anything associated with darkspawn blood, even in antidote form, tended to rattle the brain and irritate the senses. Mikarra bore it with stoic silence. Anders wasn't really the type.
"This stuff," he quipped, while waving away an unpleasant puff of fumes, "better do its job as advertised, because otherwise I've given myself a headache the size of the Bannorn for no good reason, and that is not to be borne."
Mikarra raised an eyebrow at him. "How are we to know if it works?"
He looked up at her and grimaced. "How else? We test it."
As if on cue, there was a knock. "Sers," a young voice called. "I've found that last herb you need…."
Anders grinned to himself. "Come on in, Allan," he said. Markham's younger brother opened the door and hustled in, eager as anything to help out. He was carrying a small paper packet.
"Had to get this from Sister Irna," he said, a little breathlessly. "She said she uses it now and then in incense, but she's never heard of it being used in a potion like this…."
"Well, next time she brews a potion like this, we can compare notes," Anders said. He took the packet and sniffed. Undoubtedly it would be fragrant under other circumstances, but here and now, it barely even registered. Pity.
"All right," Anders said. "Let's finish this dose off."
"How's the potion meant to work?" said Allan. Anders raised an eyebrow, but the boy seemed genuinely curious. After days of people being suspicious at him -- Adeline excepted, and for that Anders was still grateful -- he hadn't known quite what to make of Allan at first. After a couple hours, he was now convinced that if they weren't careful, Allan would be following them back to Vigil's Keep, peppering them with questions all the way.
He smiled faintly and tapped the rim of the flask.
"This builds up your resistance to darkspawn blood," he said. "It's not a permanent fix; it lasts for a few hours. Without this herb? Maybe two. With?" He opened the packet and pulled off the smallest leaf, crumbling it between forefinger and thumb over the flask. The liquid within clouded briefly. "It works as a preservative. So -- four to five."
"Wow," Allan said, eyebrows raised. "One small smelly plant does that?"
"You'd be amazed what a few small smelly plants can do," Mikarra said.
"And… does it take a mage to learn how to do potions like this? Or can anyone learn? I mean, if it's just about mixing ingredients, like a reci--"
Anders flashed a tiny bolt of lightning into the flask. Allan cleared his throat. "All right, I can't do that," he said.
"The same thing could have been accomplished with ordinary heat," Mikarra said.
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" Anders glanced up. "In any case, it's ready. I think we need our test subjects."
Allan looked surprised to be addressed so, then grinned. "I'll go get them."
Mikarra watched Allan dash out the door and sighed softly. "How does anyone keep up that kind of enthusiasm in the middle of all this?"
"It's a good thing someone is," Anders said dryly. Mikarra let that go without comment.
A few minutes later, Allan returned with a line of people in tow. Anders recognized Markham and Perrin; the other three were less familiar, but introduced themselves as Tristan, Alec and Tomas, members of Elinora's castle guard. Allan showed them all in, then hovered behind like he was sure he should leave, but didn't want to. Anders thought about it, then mentally shrugged. There was no harm in letting him see, and after all, if anything went wrong, an extra set of hands wouldn't hurt.
It was, after all, entirely possible for something to go wrong.
Anders lifted the flask again. They'd brewed only a small sample -- making the full batch would take considerably more time -- but after an hour, this was enough to detect whether or not they were on the right track. It wasn't a commonly produced potion, for one simple reason: although it was terribly useful when it worked, some people reacted badly to it, and who might reject it was unpredictable at best. Anders sighed, resigning himself to an eventful -- not to mention messy -- afternoon if this didn't go as planned.
"I have the blood vial," Mikarra said, her voice catching on the last two words. Anders suspected she was having trouble not calling it a phylactery.
Anders studied the vial in her hand, and nodded. Then he rounded the table to speak to the knights, while Mikarra rubbed her nose and set about preparing the skin test.
"We're going to keep this simple," Anders said. "This potion should, if all goes well, protect you from darkspawn infection. But we're not going to send you out into the field untested, so this will help us make sure everything works. Each of you will try a small dose of the potion, and then Mikarra here will scratch a small patch of skin on your inner arm--"
She held up a long, narrow-edged blade, inspecting it for her own purposes but showing it off on cue just the same. Anders heard Allan whistle.
"--and put one drop of darkspawn blood on the wound. It's not enough to infect you outright, but it will cause a reaction if the potion doesn't work. Sometimes it doesn't. People have to go and be unique and complicate matters all the time… it's very trying." He heaved a sigh. "Also, some people take one gulp of the potion and vomit for three days straight. If you must, the door is right behind you; please do it outside."
Mikarra cleared her throat. Anders turned and took the proffered cup. "All that said," he went on, "who'll be our first volunteer?"
There was a moment of silence and shuffling, and then a sigh even more long-suffering than his own. It belonged to Ser Perrin, who stepped forward first. Anders found himself unsurprised, somehow. "Bottoms up," Anders said, passing the potion sample over.
Perrin took it, considered it with some suspicion, then grimaced in advance of even swallowing. He was still grimacing, his eyes squeezed shut, when he was done. He got it down, though, and offered his arm without fuss. Mikarra held it steady, made a quick, fine scratch, and then tapped a single, black drop onto his pale skin. "You all right, then?" Markham said under his breath. Perrin watched his arm as if he were studying some strange and foreign object. So did Mikarra, who waited a moment before she swabbed it clean. Other than the scratch, his skin was unmarked.
"You're fine," she said. Perrin nodded, letting out only the tiniest breath to indicate relief. He rolled his sleeve back down and waved Alec forward.
All proceeded remarkably painlessly -- Anders took a moment to feel proud of his potion-brewing skills -- until Tristan's turn. He was the last Anders would have pegged for trouble. He was built like your average golem: tall, broad, muscular, would take a battering ram to knock him down. The potion, though, instantly made him green at the gills. Markham and Allan hurried forward to help him sit down; he went down heavily, looking shaky and pale. Mikarra's hands hesitated on her tools. A few seconds later, though, he gulped in a breath, clenched one hand in a fist, and thrust out the arm. "Do it," he gritted out. "I can keep it down."
"This was only a partial dose," Mikarra warned him. "Are you sure?"
Tristan fixed her with a stare. "I have to be."
She watched him a while, then silently did the test. His skin stayed clear. Tristan let out a sigh of relief, then wobbled to his feet. After a few seconds more, he steadied. "I'll be all right," he said. "Just… have to get used to that stuff."
Anders hoped he was right.
Markham, last in the line, took his cup and gave it a skeptical sniff. "Well. I've had worse," he said confidently, and tossed it back. Anders winced just watching his reaction. He tensed up, then spluttered; a few hacking coughs later, he shook his head, swore violently, and visibly suppressed the urge to spit. Then finally he let out a long phew and said, "All right -- not much worse."
Mikarra smiled faintly, scratched his arm and dropped the blood onto his skin. Markham had begun to relax, obviously believing the worst was over. Then he frowned. "Is it supposed to itch?" he said.
They all looked at his arm.
"It's not discoloring," Mikarra said, gently swabbing the spot clean. Allan crowded closer, frowning in concern; Anders bent forward to squint from the other side. "It looks just fine…."
Markham gritted his teeth. "Doesn't feel fine," he said. "Ow."
Mikarra swept her fingertips over the surface. Seconds went by. "It's not getting worse," she said, gently feeling the spot and rubbing her thumb back and forth there. Markham eventually made a weary laugh.
"Under any other circumstances," he said, "I would probably be making a rude joke about this."
"You can make an even ruder one now," Anders said, and put his hand over the scratch. A small wave of healing energy later, Markham relaxed. Anders and Mikarra studied each other a moment.
"Maybe a stronger dose?" Mikarra suggested.
"Possibly," Anders said. He caught Markham's gaze. "Or there's always the expedient of not letting the darkspawn bleed on you."
"Which might mean finding backup," Mikarra said quietly.
Markham frowned. "Uh-uh. Like he said" -- he jerked his head towards Tristan -- "I'm going out there. I have to be ready."
That said, he was still scratching his arm. Anders smelled what was left of the potion and mulled it over. "I'll brew up a second batch," he said. "Might take me longer…."
"I have to go join patrols soon," Mikarra said.
Anders nodded. "I'm all right. I'll just be busy here for a little while longer." He gave Markham a crooked smile. "You had to go and be difficult, didn't you?"
Markham grinned. "I'm good at that," he said.
"He's certainly had plenty of practice," Perrin muttered dryly. But even Anders noted that the knight was watching his friend with some concern. A stronger batch, then, he thought as the knights filed out, leaving Mikarra and young Allen.
"Looks like it's back to the grindstone," said Anders, blowing out a deep breath and cracking his knuckles. "Allan, be a good lad and see Sister Irna about more of that smelly plant you brought me. I'm going to need more of it if I'm to concoct an entire batch. And you," he added, nodding at Mikarra, who was peering thoughtfully at what remained of the potion, "ought to get off to patrol. The mood Elinora's in, I wouldn't keep her waiting."
Mikarra let out a patient sigh. "The mood she's in isn't helped by the way you incessantly provoke her, you know. Must you?"
Anders only shook his head and started measuring out the ingredients for another batch of potion. "I've been teasing her for so long, she'd worry if I stopped." He glanced up and caught Mikarra looking so very incredulous that he couldn't help but laugh. "Trust me, Mikarra. She needs what levity she can get right now."
"Anders-"
"Now run along, Kari -" he said, neatly cutting her off, "or you'll be late for patrol. Our fearless leader may not like being provoked, but she likes tardiness even less."
Mikarra let out a sigh of long-suffering patience as she made her way to the door, opening it. "Please don't call me that."
Anders only grinned at the elf. "Oh, but you'd worry if I stopped."
A beat of silence passed as Mikarra just looked at him. Several seconds ticked by when finally she shook her head, letting out a helpless little laugh. "You know, sometimes I can't tell if you're truly clever, Anders, or just mad."
"I like to think a little of both," replied Anders. "Keeps things interesting."