Legend (Dragon Age Origins)

Chapter 8: No Future

Everything hurt. Her body felt as if it were on fire, her skin pulled too tight. When she opened her eyes, nausea overcame her and Dru fought the urge to throw up.

A hand against her back helped her into a seated position. "Easy," a warm voice said.

Dru buried her head in her hands. "I'm okay," she croaked. "I'm not dead. I feel dead but... I'm not." An ache filled her chest as memories of the Joining ritual returned to her. "Daveth and Jory," she breathed. "Oh, Maker."

"I know."

Alistair brought a clay cup to her lips. The water held a faint taste of frangipani and honey and helped to clear away the fog in her mind and soothe her burning throat.

They were back at the Warden camp. Someone had tucked her into her bedroll by the campfire and wrapped her cloak around her. She could smell a stew bubbling in the cast iron pot held above the flames. Alistair kneeled beside her and Duncan was nowhere to be seen.

"In my Joining, only one of us died," Alistair said with sadness, "but it was... horrible. I'm glad at least you managed to survive.

He bowed his head in silence. Dru felt that she should comfort him, after all, he knew Daveth and Jory far longer than she had. She reached out to him, then hesitated.

She let her hand fall back into her lap.

"Duncan has gone to meet with the king and his advisors," Alistair told her. "He wanted to wait for you to wake up but there wasn't enough time. A darkspawn army is expected to attack Ostagar sometime after midnight. That's why all the armies of Ferelden agreed to come here, because of what Duncan saw in his vision." He cast his eyes towards the stars. "It won't be long now."

"How long was I out?" Dru asked.

"Only for an hour or so. Which is a lot better than it sounds; most lie unconscious for half a day in excruciating pain. You're lucky."

"Lucky. Right."

Although it was late, the ruins were still buzzing with activity. Soldiers dashed wildly about, putting together their gear, receiving blessings from the priestesses, and bidding their final goodbyes to one another. The battle was coming so soon, but Dru felt like it was still years away. Like it wasn't real.

"So..." Alistair filled the silence between them. "Did you have nightmares?"

She glanced at him. "Nightmares?"

"When you drank the blood, I mean. Did you have any visions of strange and horrible things you might be all too eager to forget?"

She recalled the monstrous creature with white eyes and jagged teeth. She knew that the dragon that she had seen was the archdemon that Duncan had warned them of. Now she understood his fear and his certainty that this was a true Blight.

"Yes. I had dreams."

Alistair nodded. "They come when we begin to sense the darkspawn. It's a lot worse for new Grey Wardens, though I'm not sure you'll ever get used to it. I know I haven't."

"Thank you for giving me something to look forward to," Dru joked.

"That's what I'm here for. To deliver bad news and—oh!" He snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. Wait here."

Alistair leapt to his feet and sprinted into the tent. Dru could hear him muttering to himself as he rummaged around in the darkness within. A minute later, he emerged with his hands clasped behind his back, his blonde hair sticking up on ends and a goofy grin plastered on his face.