Chapter Text
She lay spread-eagled at the edge of the field. Around her, half-a-dozen hurlocks and genlocks were arrayed like a starburst, all sporting fatal wounds delivered by a massive greatsword. The sword in question hung limply from her hand, as though parting with it even in death was too great a travesty to bear.
A shadow fell over her, then two more, one small and one massive. A fourth joined somewhat reluctantly. “Cauthrien,” Alistair muttered, dislike evident in his voice. “Loghain’s most trusted lackey.”
“Looks like she went down fighting,” Oghren grunted. “Taking on six darkspawn at once is no easy feat.”
“No one ever claimed she was not brave,” the Warden replied. He crouched at Cauthrien’s side, resting a hand on the woman’s arm.
“Brave, yes.” Alistair acknowledged. “Nice, not so much. I met her at Ostagar. She was doubtless at Loghain’s side when he gave the order to retreat, and she did nothing to stop him.”
“What could she have done?” the Warden asked quietly. “He was her superior officer.”
Alistair had no reply, and the group fell into silence. After a long moment, the Warden sat back on his heels. “She lives,” he announced.
His words caused a stir among the companions. “How?” asked Alistair and Oghren together. “What do we do with her now?” Alistair added. Both men stared at Cauthrien with renewed interest. Even Sten, silent and stoic behind them, took a step closer to see better.
“I don’t know what to do with her,” the Warden admitted.
“Kill her,” Sten rumbled. “Give her the death she deserves.”
“He has a point,” Alistair remarked. “She IS our enemy, after all. And she would want to be killed on the battlefield.”
“Pity,” said Oghren, eyeing Cauthrien’s curves. “She’s quite the looker.”
The Warden reached forward, running a hand through Cauthrien’s hair. His expression was calculating. Alistair watched him warily. “You aren’t considering…She’s Loghain’s!”
The Warden shook his head. “She belongs to herself alone. I believe that, with some work, she could become a powerful ally.”
“Unbelievable!” Alistair exclaimed. “You want to bring her back to camp? She’ll murder us all in our beds!”
“I’ll have the dog watch her,” the Warden answered, waving aside Alistair’s protests. “In the meantime, we should get her to Wynne as soon as we can. I’m no healer. Sten?”
The Qunari nodded slowly. “I shall carry the woman.”
Alistair sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I,” the Warden murmured, standing aside so that Sten could lift Cauthrien into his arms. “So do I.”