When I Look at You (a Dragon Age fanfiction)

Demons

In the morning, they took down the barricade and got down to the serious business of exploration. Skeletons rose from the floor of nearly every room, having to be put down, their bones cracking as they fell lifeless to the ground.

The library held another vision, shades of the librarian and his assistant being mowed mercilessly down by the king's soldiers.

"No wonder it was so hard for Duncan to get a foothold here in Ferelden," Alistair said, "if this is how people remembered the Wardens, as traitors to the king who were slaughtered by invading soldiers."

"Doesn't paint a very brave or loyal picture of us, does it?" Una replied, hoping the exchange would help facilitate a truce. The air between them felt tense, and while she regretted that they were arguing over something so noble as whether Alistair should sacrifice himself to save her, she really thought he was missing the point.

She wouldn't have been surprised to know that Alistair was thinking something similar. How could she imagine he could be so selfish as to let something happen to her? She was ... well, it was pretty simple. He was expendable; she wasn't. He appreciated that she at least hadn't played the Theirin card, because he would not be treated differently just because King Maric had fallen on a serving girl once and created a headache for other people to deal with. For that matter, if Maric had done that once, who knew how many other times he might have. There was no telling how many half-brothers Alistair had running around out there. The thought brought with it a fair amount of relief, and Alistair smiled as he followed Una up the stairs to the keep's second level.

The smile died in a grimace at the smell that poured out of the Warden Commander's office. Something had obviously died in there.

Or hadn't died, Alistair amended silently as he came into the room and saw the thing that stood behind the massive desk. It was Sophia Dryden, that much was obvious form the vision they had all had, but time had not been kind. Her flesh was falling off her bones, decaying in bits and pieces. Stinking, gelatinous ooze of some sort he didn't want to contemplate ran down her armor.

"Look at that armor," Una breathed, clearly not put off by the noxious substance.

It was gorgeous—dark blue, emblazoned with griffons, and probably about Una's size, given Sophia Dryden's height. Unfortunately, the once-upon-a-time Warden Commander was still using it.

She—it—looked immediately to Una, discounting all the others. "This one has not looked upon such freshness in many years. What do you want of this one?"

Finding Levi standing at his shoulder, Alistair said, "I think your grandmother's been possessed."

"Either that, or she's really let herself go," the merchant muttered. He shook his head. "My grandmother's dead. I don't know what in the Void that is."

"This one is the Dryden. Sophia. Commander. All these things," the creature said, laughing. "But she is food for this one; she no longer exists in the world."

"You have her memories?" Una asked.

"What are memories? Can they be eaten?"

"No. No, I don't imagine so." Una stared at the creature for a moment. Was there any point in further conversation? They knew what had happened here; Levi could see that whatever his grandmother had been up to, it hadn't ended well for her. There was no redemption to be found for the Dryden family in this creature before her. "I think we'll kill you now."

"Foolish girl! This one can do much for you."

Una wasn't even curious. Whatever deal Sophia had made with the demon, the advantages had clearly all been on the demon's side. She was wise enough to expect the same if she were to try it. She drew the giant maul from her back, stepping forward into range.

Skeletons erupted from the piles of refuse in the corners, and shades seemed to melt out of the walls. Levi scrambled under the desk, hiding there and quaking, while the rest of the team readied for battle. Alistair approached the demon, still in its Sophia-Dryden form. His attacks would be more useful against her—it—than against the skeletons.

As Una turned to smash one of the skeletons with a mighty blow from her maul, she shouted over her shoulder to Alistair. "Don't hurt the armor, whatever you do. That's my armor now!"

"Don't hurt the armor, she says," he muttered under his breath. "Riiight." With a powerful blow of his shield, he smashed the demon into the wall. Solid construction; there wasn't even a creak with the impact.

When the fight was over, they stood looking down at the decaying corpse.

"Poor Grandmother," Levi muttered.

Privately, Alistair wasn't sure what was so poor about her—she appeared to have made some kind of a bargain with a demon. It didn't take a genius to know what happened to people who did that. In his view, she deserved what she got. That armor, now ... "Are you sure you want that stuff?" he asked Una. It was pretty, but what a mess. "It'll smell of demon for months, assuming you can ever get the stench out at all."

"Oh, no," Leliana put in. "You can clean it quite quickly." She patted Una on the shoulder. "You'll see."

"Good." Una wasn't sure what called to her so strongly. It was dramatic armor, to be certain, but heavier and less practical than the elven set she currently wore. But it was hers. Something about it called to her. Perhaps she saw more of Sophia Dryden in herself than she'd be willing to admit to the others ... both of them forced to command Wardens alone in a desperate circumstance. Who was to say Una wouldn't be pushed to some end such as this herself? The armor would be a good reminder, at the very least.

Leaving the armor and the other items they'd collected in a heap on the landing, they moved across the windy bridge to the tower. More skeletons barred their path, and Una made a mental note to be sure to sweep up any remnants of bone later and burn it safely for the Maker. These restless souls were a bit too thick up here.

The tower held its own horrors. Another dark vision that showed Sophia Dryden using her resident mage to call up demons ... and the demons, unsurprisingly, turning on those who called them; a laboratory filled with the long-dead remnants of men who had been trapped in cages and used as test subjects; and the ancient mage at the heart of it all.

Morrigan was intrigued by his research, paging through his journal intently. Alistair and Leliana were disgusted, naturally. Levi was weary, ready to be done with the whole expedition, even if it had been his idea to begin with. And Una was angry. She was tired of old men's hubris, and of fixing their mistakes. Once the elderly mage had finished clearing the tower of its ancient summoning circles, closing the tear in the Veil, she executed him.

Morrigan hadn't liked that, and Leliana felt they should have shown mercy, despite the old man's obvious crimes, but Una didn't care what they thought. She was tired of stopping to pay attention to what everyone else wanted every time she had a decision to make, when none of them seemed willing to take on any decisions themselves.

They said good-bye to a very shaken Levi ... who was nevertheless not too shaken to lay claim to Soldier's Peak as a hub for his business. Una didn't mind. The Grey Wardens could use a home base, and a relationship with a merchant who was slightly more forgiving in his prices than Bodahn Feddic, the dwarven merchant who often traveled with them. A few more of the dwarf's 'discounts' would drain her purse dry. Levi had promised to bring all his family up to the Peak and get it running again, as well as to burn all the dry bones and see the remnants of those who had died in the Peak safe to the Maker. She made him promise to stay away from the mage's tower, which he was happy to do.

Grenli rushed up to her as they came down from the mountain, his stumpy tail wagging. Wynne didn't seem the worse for wear after her ordeal, left alone with Zevran and Oghren, although both the men seemed to be suffering from massive hangovers, and treated the mage with far greater respect and awe than they had when Una left. She decided not to ask for the details; she would certainly be happier not knowing.