WIP Wednesday
My DA2 story. Everyone needs a little bit more Duncan, right? <3
Duncan knelt over the body of the king, and lifted his eyes to the lit beacon shining above them. Where were Loghain’s men? The tower was lit, but the battle still raged with the Darkspawn forces overwhelming Cailan’s men.
All he could think, briefly, was that at least Alistair, and the two newest recruits, Briar Cousland and Ghilana Mahariel were still alive, and away from the battle, but if the Darkspawn overtook the field, there was no telling how safe they would be.
There was little he could do though, ribs broken and blood coating his armor, weapons buried deep in the chest of the downed Ogre, and a fresh wave of Darkspawn heading for him, their twisted weapons swinging wildly.
A dagger passed over his shoulder, the wind of it brushing his hair and cooling his skin before it slammed hilt deep into the skull of the Hurlock taking aim at his head. A second flew above his head, taking out the Genlock behind him, and then a blur of blades moved past his kneeling for and Duncan watched the girl he’d spoken with only that morning all but dance across the battlefield.
A rogue, he noticed distractedly as she wove her way between the charging hoard, slitting throats, and sliding her daggers into spines and skulls. A young man, younger than Malia Hawke, followed her and large greatsword swinging and cleaving any Darkspawn that got too close to her and the familiarity with which the two fought together made Duncan sure this was the brother she had followed to Ostagar to protect. It was a matter of moments for the pair to cleave a path through the Darkspawn, but more would be coming and Duncan forced his battered body back onto his feet.
“Come on, old man,” the girl said softly, by his side and helping him up almost before he spotted her movements, and if the situation had been different, Duncan would have been inclined to recruit her.
“Loghain…”
“Loghain ordered us to retreat,” the young man said, barely older than a boy, and Duncan winced, staggering slightly as the pair helped him move across the battle, either dodging Darkspawn or cutting their way across the field.
“Then why are you here?”
“I couldn’t leave Malia,” the young man said and Duncan could have wept at the affection the pair bore one another. It could very easily be their death sentence.
“You need to sound the retreat horn, and then flee. Now is the time to get your family out of Lothering. Perhaps you should have sent that messenger after all,” he admitted, coughing harshly, and spitting blood upon the ground already soaked red.
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