#given how she was raised in the korcari wilds and then how flemeth raised her

[last-rose-of-lothering]

wicked eyes and wicked hearts my beloved

[paulythide]

A teasing peak!

Hello, this is a small tease of the upcoming One-Shot (Or is it a One-Shot? I don't know. I am having so much fun!)

Nevertheless, please enjoy it. Also, I'll try to post some art about my Dragon Age characters!

Also, if you wish to support me, please donate to my Paypal account. It will help me with keeping up a constant set of updates and schedules, as well as putting more Art for my works!

-Paypal- paulydppal@hotmail.com

See you soon!

Prologue

The concept of immortality, once a lofty aspiration and a coveted dream, has become a reality for a select few whose lives have persisted for countless centuries. However, as time continues to pass without end, the novelty of eternal life has given way to a sense of ennui and frustration. What was once a blessing has become a burden, an endless cycle of existence without the hope of release. The weight of immortality was heavy, and those who bore it were left to grapple with the ramifications of their eternal existence. Especially to those who remember what it was and the old glories of past times.

Still, it left a sense of purpose to those who have lost something significant. Revenge was often the only reason an immortal person would continue on with their dull existence. And no one knew more about immortality and retribution than an old woman by the name of Flemeth. A human, a witch, an old woman with even an older soul. A lingering reminder of what took place such a long time ago. A carrier of vengeance which would not rest until the purpose would be concluded. But that was still a dream for her. While waiting for her ultimate revenge, Flemeth's role in history has been to look out for essential roles in history, sometimes even push actions that could change the outcome of crucial moments. Out of boredom? Perhaps. Out of a need to do the right thing? Maybe. Whatever the reason for Flemeth to involve herself in certain situations. Flemeth's goals were mysterious.

Nevertheless, Flemeth could feel the winds of change coming again as she stared ahead of her, watching the smoke and fire from a safe distance.

"And so, once again, the Blight comes back to the surface," Flemeth spoke, sensing and smelling such a familiar scent. "An old soul tainted again."

Flemeth knew that the Blight could become an uncontrollable force if it was left untouched and with the current state of the world. It could be perilous.

"I wonder, what type of hero will rise against it?" Flemeth muttered to herself, pondering about the possibilities of meeting such a person. If it comes to that, she'll help that individual or individuals, just like she has done in the past. Humanity could benefit or a new leader. Who knows? Flemeth's pastimes to see ages come and go were genuine without entertainment. However, deep inside, she knew that it would not be forever. Flemeth and her old companion were awaiting their final dance that would soon come. But until then, she'll make sure the world doesn't burn.

"Oh, mother, there you are," a voice snapped Flemeth out of her trance as she could recognise the voice of her daughter, Morrigan. "Looking at the view?" 

Flemeth snorted, hearing her daughter's peculiar snarky, and sarcastic tone, which shouldn't surprise her. Flemeth raised her to be like that, after all.

"The Blight is coming once again, child. And it's starting here, on the Korcari Wilds," Flemeth responded as Morrigan stared at the darkened smoke that the Darkspawn were causing. Morrigan's face frowned, and instead of fear, was a sense of intrigue.

"I see," Morrigan only replied. "No doubt, the valiant Grey Wardens would come and save us all."

"No time to jester, girl. If we are not careful, the Blight could spread all over Ferelden. And only a Grey Warden can kill an Archdemon," Flemeth stated, scolding Morrigan's lack of understanding of their current situation or how dangerous those old souls of forgotten times could be. 

Morrigan said nothing, just stared at Flemeth, simply munching her words. Before sighing. "Of course, mother."

Flemeth nodded as she glanced at the horde of Darkspawn slowly climbing their way up from the Deep Roads, corrupting everything they touched. It was going to be a long year for Thedas, for Ferelden. Especially if the Grey Wardens were slow.

"Let go, girl. We must make sure to prepare."

"Prepare for what?" Morrigan asked her mother with a confused face.

"I believe, soon enough, we may have some visitors."

Morrigan's perplexed expression deepened as she obediently followed her mother, Flemeth. However, their departure was interrupted by an abrupt and intense sensation that coursed through their bodies, causing them to shiver involuntarily. The magic within them reacted to the foreign and unfamiliar presence, catching them off-guard and unprepared. It felt as though something or someone had infiltrated their very being, leaving a fleeting yet distinct impression that lingered long after it had vanished. The unknown entity had left them with goosebumps and an unsettling feeling of being violated by forces beyond their understanding.

Morrigan had her staff in her hand as she took her time to breathe in and out, trying to calm herself and her magic. "What was that?!" She exclaimed to the forest ahead of her, warning of any possible threat lurking in the shadows. But she knew no one was there.

Flemeth, an old woman, who has known many songs, was left speechless. She had no idea what that was. It was so unnatural, unknown, and not belonging to their world that it took time for her to regain her senses. The soul within her, that spirit. Mythal, an Elven Goddess, or whatever she was now, seemed to have been shaken too. And for an Elven Goddess, for a being thousands of years old, to be so afraid of such an unsettling feeling. It must be for an excellent reason.

"Girl, we must get back home," Flemeth whispered as she glanced West. Not being able to shake the sensation of something arriving so far away. Where the draws of the map of the known world ended. But Flemeth and Morrigan weren't the only ones who felt that sensation. Across Thedas, worldwide, to all users who possessed magic in their veins. They all felt that foreign invasion of their being, a quick shivering and unsettled sentiment of stupor and anxiety. 

And in the Fade, that wave was felt even stronger, as spirits, demons, and the fabric of the dream world itself shocked under the pressure of an unknown power making itself known. But what was it? Not even the oldest spirit could say. But they knew, mages, demons, and spirits alike, that a new entity as entered Thedas.

-

The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal, an ode to the blacksmith's craft, reverberated throughout the sprawling encampment. The cacophony of hoofbeats, the tramp of soldiers, and the ceaseless bustle of supply wagons coming and going created a mesmerising tableau for those unaccustomed to the sights and sounds of an army camp. Even intimidating, as such a view reinforces the idea that war was upon them. And it wasn't against a neighbouring kingdom, but something far worse.

And for a young mage whose life has only known the Circle. The exterior world seemed quite strange.

"So much noise," In a hushed tone, a youthful girl struggled to maintain pace with her surroundings. She found herself unaccustomed to manoeuvring around so many people or being mindful of her footsteps. The hallways of The Circle of Magi were consistently pristine and simplistic to navigate. She knew where everything was and could even travel with her eyes close. But here, things were utterly different.

"What is it? Not used to walking around so many people?" A warden by the name of Alistair called with a gentle teasing voice. The girl glanced at him and awkwardly nodded.

"Yes, it's weird to see so many... different people," She replied anxiously. "I am still getting used to... all of this."

Alistair smiled at the young girl. He knew how hard it had been for the young mage. The things he learned about her and the debacle that happened after her Harrowing made him realise that she was a gentle soul, thrust to join the Wardens. However, Alistair couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She is too young. Alistar sighed deeply, looking at the girl who couldn't be older than fifteen. 

From what Ducan told him, this young girl was beyond her peers. A truly one-of-a-kind mage. Intelligent, dutiful, compassionate, and incredibly powerful, the latter worried the Templars because, of course, they would be concerned about a young, powerful mage. Nevertheless, Alistair felt responsible for her, especially after spending time travelling with her. She was too innocent and afraid of the outside world and would be forced to join the Grey Wardens, and he didn't know if she would survive the Joining.

Alistair shook his head and glanced back as they walked towards the destination. "I... I heard you still have a family? Lothering? You did mutter something about it."

The young mage looked up to him, surprised to hear him say that. "You heard?"

"Ah, yeah, well, I have a good ear," Alistair chuckled nervously as he realised he had not yet disclosed his past as a Templar to her. Hearing and watching was a trait all Templars learned as a skill to continuously monitor Mages in case they planned something. A bit snobbish if Alistar could say so himself, but it was something he still had and was difficult to unlearn. "So, did you try to meet them?"

The young mage's lips quivered briefly as sadness poured from her face but soon vanished as she only breathed slowly. "I only know little. I have a few second cousins. The Amell Family used to be a big noble house from Kirkwall. I think... or very wealthy. I don't know how my mother ended up in Ferelden. I never had the chance to ask her."

"Ah, could you ask her? Ask for some references to where they could be? Y'know...?" Alistair asked, chuckling before the young girl's face darkened.

"I doubt it. My mother is dead."

Alistair felt like slapping his face as he groaned silently. "You're an idiot, Alistair," he muttered as the young mage tilted her head at him.

"Did you say something?"

"Oh, uh... look at the sky, beautiful?" Alistair quickly replied as the young mage stared back at him, quite amused.

"Mmhm, I guess?"

The youthful mage found herself puzzled by Alistair's enigmatic nature. Despite this, she couldn't help but relish the time spent in his company. His attempts at humour, though often lacking, were endearing, and she appreciated his efforts to lighten the mood. Through their interactions, the mage had come to view Alistair as a kind and considerate individual, always striving to ensure her comfort and ease. And she appreciated it immensely.

Soon enough, both arrived at a small camp on the edge of Ostagar and there, the young mage found herself surrounded by a group of strange people.

"These are the Wardens?" She muttered slowly, holding her staff tightly with fear in her eyes, like a baby deer in the forest.

"Recruits," Duncan said as he appeared from the shadows of the camp, holding a sort of scroll. "They are all recruits. Each of them came from a different background, either from Dalish, a noble house, an Alienage or the deep kingdom of Orzammar. But after becoming a Grey Warden, all of that won't matter at the end of the day."

Duncan stated, observing the group of people. A more significant set of recruits than he intended. Yet he felt that it was not enough. Against the Blight, it was never enough. However, Duncan had a duty. They all have a commitment to Thedas, to the world.

"Alistair, here, these are the instructions to follow. You know what to do," Duncan said as Alistair groaned internally, as he could sense a sort of stress rising among the recruits.

"Of course, Duncan," Alistair sighed, already feeling a sense of tiresome.

"Good. I have a meeting with the King. Try to take to be hasty since if our scouts are right. The main Darkspawn horde should arrive here by nightfall."

Upon hearing those words, a few of the other recruits threw disapproving and uneasy glances in the speaker's direction. Duncan had already departed, leaving Alistair to bear the full weight of responsibility for all of them. As the only active Warden in Ferelden, it fell solely upon Alistair to manage the situation.

Alistair just rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled nervously. "Yeah... uhm. Why don't we start with introductions? My name is Alistar. I am the current... and only Grey Warden, besides Duncan, I mean."

Alistair stared around and could only hear some eerie silence. No one spoke to him, which was quite insulting, at least to him. "Eh, what about you?" Alistair asked the Dwarf, whose cold and emotionless face could be mistaken for one of a dead person.

As the rest observed the scene, they noticed a Dwarf perched atop a large boulder, seemingly in his own little world. He meticulously polished his warhammer as soon as his gaze fixed on the group with a steady, serious expression. He took a deep breath, and with a deep voice, he spoke.

"Lofrag Aeducan, I am from..." Lofrag paused, realising that he had been exiled for a crime that he did not commit. He tightly closed his hand and then let out a long breath. "Was from a noble house of Orzammar."

The flow of the conversation continued, as next to the Dwarf, leaning on a pillar from one of the ruins of the abandoned fortress that was Ostagar, away from the light, a hooded person was standing. The person emitted a hissing sound, suggesting annoyance and irritation.

"Lyna Mahariel of the Sabrae Clan," With a confident flair, the Dalish revealed her face, proudly displaying her Vallaslin. It symbolised her deep connection to her people and their ancient traditions. Although for some, a mark of ancient glories.

"Is that Mythal's Vallaslin?" Another elf asked, and Lyna could only reply with another hiss.

"Yes," Lyna said, inspecting the other Elf. "I am surprised you know about it. You don't seem to be one of us."

The other Elf frowned deeply as he stared at the Dalish Elf. "What do you mean by not one of us? I am an Elf too!"

"You're an Elf, but not a Dalish. My people," Lyna replied, almost scoffing at him, even looking down on him as if he was something else. "You're from an Alienage, aren't you? I can smell it from miles away."

The Elf was hurt by the other's sneering tone and attitude, which made them feel even more inferior. It was particularly painful coming from someone who should have been more understanding and compassionate to the suffering of their specie.

"Now, now, let's get along. We are in this together," Alistair stated nervously, trying to dissipate the tension away. 

The Elf in question glared at Lyna before looking at the group. "I am Kalian Tabris... I am an Elf from Denerim's Alienage. And proud of my race."

Lyna could be heard snorting on the side, almost mockingly, but Kalian decided to ignore it. 

"My name is Catherine Cousland," another woman spoke, yet that voice sounded almost depressing, a whisper even. Alistair knew who that woman was and had heard from Duncan what had transpired with the Cousland family. Catherine seems to still be grieving the death of her mother and father, but more importantly. Deep inside her, the desire for vengeance was growing. 

Although the other individuals in the group were all grown adults, with some even having prior experience in combat, the young mage girl appeared to be overwhelmed as she stood before them. Their intense gazes bore down on her, and she struggled to summon the courage to introduce herself to the group. Thankfully, Alistair gently nudged her, smiling at her, calming the young girl.

"Hello," she spoke nervously, almost stammering. "M-My name is Elia Amell! And I am Mage, from the Circle of Magi!"

The young girl spoke nervously, feeling all the gazes upon her now.

"You're so young," Catherine whispered, amazed and worried. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen..." Elia responded, suddenly feeling everyone looking at her in shock.

"Fifteen?" Kalian repeated in a whisper, trying to come up with terms about the age of the young mage. Even the Dwarf Lofrag gave a sort of amused stare at the girl.

"A child?" Lyna muttered, equally surprised, if not a bit offended, to be put next to a child. "It is wise to have such a young Mage with us?" Lyna asked abruptly, giving Elia dirty looks, to which Alistar simply stepped ahead, looking at Lyna directly into her eyes.

"She is the best the Circle of Magic can offer. Otherwise, she wouldn't be here," Alistair stated firmly, glancing around the group, almost daring them to speak up.

Lyna huffed, but in her eyes, there was a glimpse of worry for the young mage girl. It seemed that Lyna was not as heartless as she appeared to be, or maybe it was for some other reason.

"I meant no offence, Miss Elia," Catharine replied gently. "Just worry, that's all. But I trust your abilities."

As Elia gazed at Catharine, she couldn't help but notice a certain aura of protective warmth emanating from the noblewoman. It was almost as if Catharine was assuming the role of an older sister, seeking to ensure Elia's comfort and security throughout their joint travels. Elia didn't mind, honestly. 

"Thank you," Elia muttered, suddenly looking down, avoiding everyone else's gaze.

"Whatever," Lyna quietly expressed her concern while quickly glancing at the girl. Shortly after, Daveth and Jory showed up as new recruits, but no one paid much attention to them.

"Well, now we all know each other, we can now hold hands," Alistair stated, as the silence of each one of them was his answer. "Fine, don't hold hands, meanies."

That did bring a soft chuckle from Elia, which Alistair thanked with a playful wink.

"Now, we had a task at hand. We are to go to the Korcari Wilds and seek some ingredients. The faster, the better."

"So be it," Lofrag grunted, standing up and putting his warhammer on his shoulder.

As the rest of the individuals gathered their gear and began to walk away, it became apparent that each of them had a distinct motivation for being there. One person may have been seeking a fresh start, a chance to begin anew, while another was driven by a desire to make amends for past transgressions. For someone else, it may have been an opportunity to seek retribution. Regardless of their individual reasons, they were all on the cusp of becoming Grey Wardens - a group of misfits who would ultimately play a pivotal role in a war that would forever alter the Thedas, for better or for worse.

[dalishious]

Is there anything in faces of thedas about Morrigan? Would appreciate you sharing, as you did with other characters :)

A few things on Morrigan~

The book says Morrigan’s father was “probably” a Chasind Wilder, but given that she is described as Chasind in lore and by characters, I’d say there’s no probable about it, but rather Morrigan is Chasind.

There are stories about Chasind men finding a young Morrigan crying alone in the forest, only for it to be a trap where Flemeth then swoops in, and the men are never seen again.

As a young girl after Flemeth first taught Morrigan basic shapeshifting, she used said powers to watch the people of Lothering, though always from a distance with the fear of templars.

Apparently the prompt for Flemeth to teach Morrigan more advanced magics and offensive spells--and blood magic--was when darkspawn started crawling out of the ground in the Wilds at the beginning of the Fifth Blight. I find this interesting because it means she’s a fast learner.

I really like how the book says “others would tend to use the word “bitchy” to classify her. However, this couldn’t be farther from the truth.” Also, “Even Morrigan will attest to the fact the Flemeth raised her and is for all purposes her mother, but an emotional, heartfelt commitment was never provided. With little to no interactions with the outside world, she is cut off emotionally.” It goes onto say how she does long for companionship but at the same time fears it, with her lack of understanding of social etiquette. Like, thank you for hitting the nail right on the head.

This one isn’t entirely Morrigan related, but when talking about legends of the Witches of The Wilds, apparently practically any woman who lives in the Korcari Wilds (so namely the Chasind) has been called a Witch of the Wilds by scared townsfolk. This has led to rumours spreading of dozens of Witches with no accurate number able to be confirmed or denied.

[daughter-of-the-prophet]

Flemeth (Tv Tropes "Origins")

Affably Evil: In keeping with her being Ambiguously Evil, she's always immensely polite, gives good advice, would rather compromise than fight, and saves the lives of the protagonists in the first and second story. Of course, according to Morrigan she's forced her daughter to watch her rape and murder men, gains her immortality by stealing the bodies of her daughters, and her plan in the first story all along was to get Morrigan impregnated with the soul of an Old God. Still, for all that, she acts like someone's batty grandmother.

Age Without Youth: In her myths, she was the World's Most Beautiful Woman. When Ilona meets her, she's an old hag. Morrigan claims Flemeth takes over her daughters' bodies to regain her youth.

Ambiguously Evil: There are plenty of stories about Flemeth doing evil things, but you never actually see her commit any truly atrocious acts. Morrigan, for instance, claims Flemeth is a body snatcher, but Morrigan is also a liar as manipulative as her mother.

Ambiguously Human: So mysterious and powerful that some state disbelief that she's even a person at all but rather something...else. Inquisition reveals she's the Elven goddess Mythal merged with a human woman.

Body Surf: Morrigan claims Flemeth raises daughters and teaches them magic so that she can easily possess them.

Captain Ersatz: Shares many elements with Baba Yaga, as an Ambiguously Evil centuries old decrepit witch who lives in a hut deep in the forest and most consider nothing but a legend with which to frighten children. Much like Baba Yaga, some of the stories about Flemeth involve kidnapping and eating children as well; Flemeth herself rolls her eyes at that notion. "As if I had nothing better to do!"

The Chooser of The One: She comes after Duncan, but she's the only reason Ilona and Alistair survive Ostagar. She repeats this with Areida Hawke in the next story.

Cryptic Conversation: She talks in nothing but hints and riddles, and will generally tell Ilona to come to her own conclusions instead of asking her to give them to her.

Death by Sex: Morrigan claims that this is one of her favourite pastimes, luring Chasind men to her bed only to kill them afterwards.

Demonic Possession: Some of her legends claim she's a centuries old mage possessed by a demon. Most people who meet her agree she's something even scarier than an Abomination though.

The Dreaded: Fereldan mothers frighten their children by telling them Flemeth will come to get them if they don't behave, and even adults are uneasy at the mention of of the legendary "Witch of the Wilds".

Enemy Mine/Evil Versus Evil: Subverted. She suggests that this is the reason she rescued the Wardens from Ostagar and is sending Morrigan with them, but as it turns out, she has other reasons.

Even Evil Has Standards: One of her legends involves a nobleman buying Flemeth from the witch's destitute husband on Flemeth's suggestion. But when the nobleman has her former husband killed instead, Flemeth slaughters the nobleman and his entire estate. In Morrigan's version, Flemeth did it because she refused to be married to a man with no honor. Interestingly, the castle the nobleman ruled was Highever, and the chain of events she set off led to Sarim Cousland's ascension to Bann, and the eventual creation of the Teyrnir of Highever. (This is particularly interesting with Ilona being the youngest child of the Cousland family, since it suggests that Flemeth set events in motion centuries ago which led to Ilona being the one to save the world.)

Evil Laugh: A brief but spooky one, when she seems little more than a Talkative Loon.

          Flemeth: "Oh, don't mind me. You have what you came for."

The Fair Folk: The Dalish Elves see her as a legendary and dangerous spirit of untold power, Asha'bellanar.

Familial Body Snatcher: The true source of Flemth's immortality.

Grand Theft Me: Morrigan claims the secret to Flemeth's immortality is that she keeps transferring her spirit into new bodies (specifically, those of her daughters).

Hand Wave: No explanation is ever offered for why she rescues Alistair and Ilona from the Tower of Ishal. Once the truth about the dark ritual is revealed, it does make more sense; however, while her rescue of Alistair is understandable with regards to the ritual, it's never explained why she would trouble herself to rescue Ilona. On the other hand, this may have been a simple case of foresight; we know from The Darkspawn Chronicles that alone, Alistair would have failed utterly.

Hidden Agenda Villain: She has some sort of questionable plan involving the Old Gods, dragons, and more. However, the goal or even the specifics of this plan are left entirely unknown through the first two stories.

Humanoid Abomination: In Witch Hunt, Morrigan states that Flemeth may look human, but she's something far worse than a demon, blood mage, or abomination. In Dragon Age II, Anders is somewhat unnerved that Justice doesn't know what she is either. Dragon Age: Inquisition reveals that she is apparently the Elven goddess Mythal possessing a human woman.

Hyper Awareness: Seems to be at least somewhat aware of Ilona Cousland and Areida Hawke’s coming destinies just by having a look at them. The first time Ilona meets her she offhandedly bemoans that Ser Jory is unlikely to survive, but it is not her place to choose.

I Have Many Names: Fereldans call her "The Witch of the Wilds". The Dalish elves, meanwhile, call her "Asha'bellanar" (the Woman of Many Years). Even "Flemeth" is just the Chasinds name for her.

      Alistair: “What do we call you? You never told us your name.“

      Flemeth: “Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind call me Flemeth; I suppose it will do.”

I Was Quite a Looker: Though rather elderly looking when Ilona meets her, Flemeth's stories claim she was legendarily beautiful and attracted suitors from all over the world.

Meaningful Name: The Dalish refer to her as Asha'bellanar, the "Woman of Many Years," hinting at her power and apparent immortality.

Mrs. Robinson: Given her immense age, this is technically in effect with any man she supposedly lures to her bed before killing them.

Multiple-Choice Past: There are multiple separate accounts of her origins, ranging from a powerful demon possessing female apostates through the ages, to a beautiful mage who became an Abomination to take revenge on the man who killed her husband, to some sort of shadowy fallen god.

Never Mess with Granny: She may seem like an unassuming, dotty old woman, but she can also turn into a dragon and rip your head off.

No Need for Names: Discussed.

      Flemeth: “Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it'll do.”

Noodle Incident: Flemeth did something horrible to the Templars over the ages who tried to hunt her, though the specifics are never revealed. 

Older Than They Look: Certainly, she looks old, but not as old as she actually is.

One-Winged Angel: Turns into a giant purple dragon in battle.

The Plan: Morrigan was sent with Alistair and Ilona in Origins in order to forward Flemeth's unknown plan involving resurrecting an Old God in a human body.

Progressively Prettier: Her witch form in Dragon Age II, while still aged, is far better looking than the liver-spotted old hag she appears as in Origins.

Really 700 Years Old: Lampshaded by the Dalish, whose name for her translates as "the Woman of Many Years."

Retired Monster: Despite the horrific acts she is said to have committed in her legends, these days she just quietly lives in a hut deep in the woods. It eventually turns out she's just biding her time while her daughters act out different elements of her unknown plan.

Scaled Up: In battle, she transforms into a dragon.

Shapeshifter Default Form: In the second story, she half-jokingly points out that for all Hawke knows, the dragon could actually be her real form and it's the witch that is merely the illusion.

Shrouded in Myth: Her history has been told so many times as a legend that no one knows what the truth is - except for Morrigan, who heard it firsthand from her mother and believes that Flemeth's own version is the true one.

So Beautiful, It's a Curse: In her backstory, her legendary beauty and men's desire for her dictated the course of her entire life. While she has a Multiple-Choice Past, every version of her tale agrees that she was beautiful and that such beauty brought her no joy in life.

Solitary Sorceress: Flemeth initially appears to be just an elderly "apostate" mage hiding out in the wilderness from the Chantry's enforcers when you first meet her.

Tyke Bomb: Morrigan is the latest of many daughters she's raised to terrorize the Korcari Wilds. And provide her with a new body for when her current one gets too old.

Unreliable Narrator: Her legend has undergone Adaptation Decay over the centuries. While Morrigan tells Ilona what Flemeth claims is her true past, she notes that it is unwise to take anything that Flemeth says at face value, though she believes her story is the most accurate. In Witch Hunt, Morrigan says that Flemeth isn't a human, a blood mage, or an abomination. How long she hasn't been human, or if she ever was, is unknown.

Voluntary Shapeshifting

Wham Line: Alistair reacts this way when she reveals her identity.

            Alistair: (stunned) “The Flemeth? From the legends?”

Wicked Witch: The Chasind seem to think so. She's old, wrinkled, lives in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, cackles, and is rumored to be widowed and a stealer of children. ("As if I had nothing better to do!")

[queen-of-the-crows]

Survivors of Ostagar

Mina Cousland, Clea Mahariel, Alistair, and Morrigan

word count: 2912

It was early afternoon before the remaining two Ferelden Grey Wardens along with Morrigan, a Witch of the Wilds, left Flemeth’s hut in the Korcari Wilds after she rescued them from the Darkspawn at the Tower of Ishal. The battle at Ostagar was two days lost by this point after Teyrn Logain’s men abandoned the king’s army and the Grey Wardens and leaving them at the mercy of the Darkspawn who laid siege to Ostagar and took out everyone, extinguishing all hopes of ending the Blight then and there. The only two Wardens to survive only did so because they were sent to light the signal fire instead of joining the battle on the ground, it was there in the tower that Flemeth rescued them after the Darkspawn broke through stating that the Darkspawn threatened everyone including her and only the Wardens could stop them and that is why she saved them and sent her daughter Morrigan along with them to aid them in their quest to recruit an army, slay the archdemon, and save all of Ferelden.

               Of the two Wardens left alive, one was a new recruit who knew hardly anything of the order and the other was still only a junior member. Alistair was the more senior member of the order. He was a young man of 20 who was raised in the Chantry and was formerly a Templar before Duncan recruited him into the Grey Wardens. He was still reeling over Duncan’s death as he was like a father to him and felt like he abandoned him but not being on the battlefield. He had been silent most of the walk causing the other Warden to watch him carefully as he had not been this silent the whole time that she had known him which admitted wasn’t more than a couple weeks.

The new recruit, the now junior member of the order was a young woman also of 20 by the name of Mina Cousland. She was the youngest child of Teryn Bryce Cousland and was recruited into the Warden’s once Arl Howe murdered her entire family and she alone escaped with Duncan. Duncan had come to her home hoping for more recruits for the coming war and was taken by Lady Mina who had been trained from a young age by her father and brother to be a warrior and that she was, outdoing many of the men in her father’s army. Mina’s father had originally forbidden Mina from joining the order since he didn’t want her to join her brother Fergus in the war to come. His mind was only changed once Duncan promised to take Mina to safety and her father promised his daughter aid in fighting the Darkspawn, Mina’s joy was only overwhelmed by her sadness at the loss of her parents and possibly her brother. Duncan made good on his promise and took Mina to safety and then on to Ostagar while Arl Howe destroyed her family’s home. There at Ostagar was where she met Alistair who oversaw her joining much as he had done for the weeks before with all the new recruits. Everyone at Ostagar seemed to take notice of Mina as she was just as beautiful as she was powerful. Mina had short thick hair that hung down to her shoulders and was the deep rich dark brown of chocolate. Her eyes were a deep piercing ocean blue that seemed to suck in all who caught her gaze and appeared all the brighter for her dark hair and her light skin that seemed to hardly ever seen the sun despite the time she spent outside training. The only thing people seemed to find more shocking than her beauty was her skill with a blade, or two blades as the case was for her. Mina’s weapons of choice were a longsword and a dagger with a twisted blade. She was fast and she was deadly and she struck hard. In the short time she had been at Ostagar, she had bested many soldiers while sparring and caused many others to refuse to engage her. Many people looked to her to eventually take a general’s position once everything was settled but the chance was never given. Everyone fell leaving only her and Alistair to recruit an army and defeat the Blight as well as outing Logain for the traitor that was he and keeping him from the throne that was left vacate by King Cailian Theirin’s death at the hands of the Darkspawn.

“Alistair, you can’t brood forever. It’s getting rather dull.” Morrigan quipped soon getting bored of hearing nothing but their footfalls and the sounds of the Wilds as they made their way towards a small town on the outskirts of the Wilds called Lothering at Morrigan’s suggestion.

Alistair chose to ignore her instead of fighting with her as he would have under other circumstances. Mina glanced to him and saw the sadness in his hazel eyes and decided to leave him to his grief for the time being. Morrigan was about to open her mouth to say something else when Mina reached her hand out and shushed her. “Did you hear that?” She reached behind her back and withdrew her sword and dagger. She heard Alistair do the same as she looked around for the source of the noise that she had determined was a human voice.

“It sounds human to me.” Morrigan commented as she raised her staff.

Mina nodded. “I agree.” She scanned the treeline looking for any signs of life.

Alistair began walking towards what appeared to be the source of the noise. “Over here!” He yelled, the first words he had spoken since leaving Flemeth’s hut. He sheathed his sword as Mina approached him and also sheathed her dagger but still held her sword as she followed Alistair’s gaze to what appeared to a woman hunched over on the ground at the base of a tree partially hidden by some bushes. They would not have noticed her if she hadn’t moved.  Mina lightly kick the woman’s leg and she twitched and groaned in pain. Mina sheathed her sword and instead crouched down to look over the woman.

The woman wasn’t human at all but was actually an elf, most likely Dalish due to the gold tattooing that framed her delicate face. She was also most likely a rogue due the bow and quiver of arrows strapped to her back and the dagger that Mina noticed on her back at the waist. She had long black hair that had originally been tied into a tight bun but was now falling loose and tumbling down her back. Her eyes were barely open but Mina could see that they were a vibrant green and her pale skin contrasted greatly with her black as night hair. She was wearing what Mina guessed was traditional Dalish armor because she had never seen anything like it before.

“Help me.” She coughed. She had a very light voice with a somewhat mystical quality to it that many elves seemed to hold, light and airy.

Mina followed the elf’s arm to where her hand rested on her bare stomach covered in blood no doubt from the wound that she was protecting in her side. “What happened to you?” Mina asked her as Alistair crouched down beside her and pulled bandages from his pack to bandage her wound and stop the bleeding. Mina also noticed some more much smaller holes in the woman’s shoulders and upper chest and one in her thigh, no doubt left from arrows that she had pulled free herself.  

“Darkspawn. I was at Ostagar. I’m a Grey Warden”

Mina looked shocked as she looked into the young woman’s face. She couldn’t be much older than Mina herself was and she knew that she didn’t recall seeing a beautiful raven haired elf at Ostagar, let alone even a single Dalish elf. Alistair’s hands stilled at her words and he looked up from his bandaging and caught her eyes instead.

“I remember you. Duncan recruited you from a Dalish clan to the north, said that you had the sickness and brought you to us to save your life and also cause you were the best hunter in your clan according to your keeper. She’s telling the truth. I oversaw her Joining weeks ago, back when Duncan and Cailan first started to amass their army at Ostager.”

“She was there for weeks? How come I never met her then? I was there long enough to see many people but never her. I think I would have remembered seeing one of the Dalish.” Mina still seemed skeptical despite Alistair’s insistence she was telling the truth.

“I stayed with the soldiers and never ventured out into the main camp after my joining. I stayed and trained and engaged no one. Even being one of the Wardens, the soldiers would give me looks like I didn’t belong. I kept to myself.” The woman spoke up.

“You were new to the Wardens and wouldn’t have been allowed to make camp with the rest of our soldiers because Duncan still had much to teach you and much to tell you. Same with all new recruits. The difference was that Darkspawn came, the battle started, and there was never a chance.” Alistair finished her bandages and helped her to her feet.

Mina nodded. It all made sense. So her and Alistair weren’t the only remaining Wardens after all, not that she thought one more of them would make much of a difference anyway, they were hardly an army. “I’m Mina, Mina Cousland. This is Alistair in case you never caught his name and this is Morrigan.” She gestured to where Morrigan stood outside their little circle just watching but saying nothing.

“My name is Clea Mahariel, adarin atishan.” Clea greeted them in elven, showing that they were friends, welcoming them.

“Hopefully this one shows more promise than Alistair.” Morrigan told her in greeting earning her a glare from Alistair and a look that told her to be nice from Mina.

“You were in the battle then?” Mina asked, slowly coming to the realization of exactly what that meant.

Clea’s bright green eyes grew dark and sad, her face shadowed. “Yes I was there.” She stated simply, not volunteering anything else.

Alistair perked up this, his eyes gaining a light they hadn’t had since waking up in Flemeth’s hut. “You were in the battle and you survived! Did you see what happened to Duncan?! Did he survive?!” Alistair probably would have grabbed her shoulders in his desperation if Mina hadn’t reached a hand out and lightly touched his forearm.

The elf’s face told him all he needed to know and just as quickly as the light returned his eyes, it vanished.

“Tell me what happened, please I have to know.” He almost begged her.

“Trust me Alistair, the battle was a bloodbath, you don’t what to know the details of what happened out there.”

“I do! Duncan was family to me, I have to know.”

“If you’re sure, if you’re both sure, I’ll tell you what happened.” Clea said sounding resigned. Ostagar wasn’t something she wanted to relive and it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to talk about to someone who had cared so deeply for someone who died there. The horror of the battlefield of Ostagar was something that would haunt her dreams for as long as she lived.

Clea Mahariel signed and pulled her long hair loose letting it fall down her back and around her face, almost as a curtain against the story she was about to tell. “It started out just as we all knew it would, King Cailan sent out the hounds and gave the order to loose the arrows. Darkspawn started to fall but it seemed that just as quickly more came from the wilds. It was then he called for the attack, his army and the Wardens to charge the darkspawn ranks and that we did. Intially we appeared to have the advantage, each one of us took out a slew of those monsters but every one we killed, there were two more who would appear. We all waited anxiously for the signal fire that seemed to take ages to light, everyone covered in sweat and blood, most of us thinking the next parrying would kill us.”

By now the small band had stopped walking and even Morrigan seemed focused on the tale being told. Mina’s mabari, Lucifer, also sat attentively at her feet watching the elven woman with his large dark eyes. Clea lifted her eyes from Lucifer and instead raised them to meet Alistair’s for the first time since starting her tale. The anticipation she found there brought a small lump to her throat knowing that what she knew would break his heart all over again and Clea didn’t take joy in being cruel.

It was with a heavy heart that continued her story. “When the signal fire finally went up, the relief was evident on everyone’s face; some people were even smiling. Loghain’s army was joining the fight, we stood a chance again. Except they never came. As the fire continued to burn and the army didn’t show themselves, the hope slowly died on everyone’s face and was replaced with despair and a sense that we all knew we were doomed.”

Clea paused and drew a deep breath to steady herself for what she needed to tell next, the hard part of the story. “That was when the ogre grabbed the king from the field. He roared in his face, like an act of defiance and then crushed his body in his fist. Your king was already dead by the time his body hit the ground; even his heavy gilded armor held the imprint of the creature’s fist. Duncan saw it all go down and moved his attack in the ogre’s direction. He leaped at the creature and buried both of his blades into its heart and twisted. The creature in its dying rage threw him aside. When he hit the ground he didn’t get back up, he was too badly wounded from injuries he had already taken. I ran to him, even called for a healer, but there was nothing anyone could do, he was already gone. He died avenging his king and killing darkspawn, I don’t think he would have had it any other way. When I looked around I saw much the same every where else on the field, soldiers dying, fewer and fewer still able to fight. Then I took a darkspawn arrow to my shoulder and another to my chest. One pierced my thigh as I was attempting to pull the others free and I just missed one shooting through my hand before my shoulder. It was only feeling the slice of a darkspawn sword against my side that took my mind from the arrows. It burned red hot for only a second before it was too much and I passed out. When I finally came to, the battle was done and we had lost. The darkspawn had quit the field but I could hear them not far off. The majority of the horde had moved off together but I still heard others back at the ruins of the camp. I wrapped my side as best I could and stumbled into the wilds just trying to put as much distance between myself and that place as I could and I made it here to where you found me.”

Alistair was trying his best not to cry but his efforts were in vain as the tears fell silently. Mina’s eyes were misted over as well as she placed a comforting hand on the young warden’s arm.

“I’m so sorry Alistair, I told you that you didn’t want to hear it.” Clea told him softly finding it hard to look at the pain in his face and turned her gaze to Mina instead.

“You were right, I didn’t but I think I needed to. Can we just move on now? I don’t want to think on it in this dreadful place any longer.” Alistair was already continuing on their intended path as he spoke, not waiting for any of the others to join him.

“I’ll go to him.” Mina said shaking the sadness from her face. Her admission wasn’t necessary as neither Morrigan nor Clea were going to volunteer. Instead the two of them continued further back and out of earshot.

“Tis remarkable that you survived at all without a healers aid.” Morrigan remarked once Mina was gone.

“The Dalish know quite a lot about bandaging and healing wounds, especially hunters. You don’t want to be stranded in the forest after taking a wound from a wolf or bear and not know how to bandage it enough to keep you alive for a couple days. I wouldn’t have lasted much longer had you not come along though. I had accepted my fate.”

“It seems that fate had not accepted your death.”

“So it does. I’m sure there will be many more things to come that will give fate a chance to change its mind.” Clea said, feeling lighter now that Mina and Alistair had moved on ahead and a dark cloud no longer hung over her.

Morrigan chuckled at that, thinking that she actually liked their new companion. “Of that I have no doubt.”

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