This is not what she had expected.
She knew the Templars would be suspicious of her voluntarily turning herself in but she had never considered that they would be cruel. She'd been in Ferelden for just over a month when she entered the Chantry in Highever and asked to see the Knight-Commander. She'd waited patiently for most of the day for him to become available. When she was finally ushered into a small office just off the side of the Chantry, she presented herself as a Tevinter mage and offered her paperwork as proof. Several minutes passed while he examined her official travel papers. The silence began to make her uneasy so she explained that she was hoping to spend some time in Ferelden's Circle to study. She was unsurprised that he seemed uneasy but he was diplomatic and stated that he would have a Templar escort ready the next morning to deliver her to the Circle.
Had she known that her escort would shackle her and force her to walk behind a horse she would never have submitted herself in the first place. She spent the night sleeping in a small room off the side of the Chantry on a rickety cot and was woken by the rough, armored hands of three Templars at dawn. She was instructed to prepare to leave within the hour. She'd barely had time to wash her face and relieve herself before being pushed out into the courtyard. Her Templar escort surrounded her, each siphoning mana from her until she dropped to her knees. With her mana completely drained she felt weak and lightheaded as if she'd gone for a long period without food. She later remembered very little of that morning other than the crisp smell of winter in the air and the biting cold of the manacles on her wrists.
After almost two weeks of blisters, meager food rations, and sleeping on the freezing ground, she thought reaching Kinloch Hold would bring relief. Instead, she had immediately been carted off to the dungeon without speaking to the First Enchanter or Knight-Commander there. It was dark and cold and smelled heavily of damp earth and mildew. The weakness she had lived with as a result of having all her mana drained for an extended period of time had worn away her resolve and the heavy thump of the thick wooden door closing behind her was almost more than she could bear. She sank down in the nearest corner of her cell with a weak moan, her forehead pressed against the rough stone. She curled in upon herself attempting to press as much of her body into the corner as possible as if it might shield her from her circumstances. Her should pressed into the juncture of the walls hiding most of the room from her view. She was caught completely off guard when a pale light flared up around her.
"So, what are you in for?" a voice too cheerful for the current situation asked.
It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the new light. She could see a young man in the corner of the cell furthest from her. He was handsome: dirty, blonde hair, soft, brown eyes, broad shoulders, narrow waist, and a roguish smirk. Something in his expression set her at ease and helped push back her fear and exhaustion.
"I'm not exactly sure," she answered softly, turning her face away. She almost hoped he'd leave her alone despite his open warmth. The last thing she needed was the ridicule that would inevitably come from her fellow prisoner about her stupidity. As she'd done so many times already the last weeks she kicked herself for trusting the Templars and their Chantry.
Anders took in the woman in front of him. The Templars had dumped her roughly in the cell and she hadn't struggled. He hadn't been able to see much until he activated the witch light. She was delicate, obviously human but closer to the height of an elf; just over five feet. As she looked over her shoulder at him he could see her eyes were a brilliant blue-green in her round face but rimmed with dark circles marking her fatigue. Her auburn hair fell in a long braid down her back. It appeared tangled and was falling out of the braid in chunks. She had the palest skin he'd ever seen with a small nose dusted with freckles. Where flesh wasn't covered by filthy clothing there were scrapes and cuts colored with new bruises layered over old. He wondered if this is what he looked like when the Templars dragged him back to the Tower.
"Not sure... Hmm..." He crossed the room and knelt on the floor near her. "Well, I'm assuming since you're in here you're a mage. No great leap there... Then again, I don't recognize you and I'm sure I've meet every pretty girl in the Tower." The corners of her mouth quirked in the beginning of a smile. "I'm Anders... and I'm available." He winked.
She smiled and seemed to roll her eyes slightly. "It's nice to meet you, Anders." She turned toward him, pulling herself from the embrace of the wall. "I'm Ilaria and I'm not from Ferelden's circle. The Templars brought me from Highever but I'm originally from Tevinter."
"Tevinter? As in the Imperium Tevinter? The Tevinter Imperium? What in Andraste's knickers did you come here for?"
When she snickered he reminded himself that staring with his jaw hanging open was hardly attractive. "I have been... traveling for a long time. I missed studying. I thought I might be able to study here for a while. Supposedly, the Templars can't keep me if I want to leave. They have my papers." She paused. "Although, I'm starting to question that theory now." Her brows furrowed for a moment before she relaxed and sighed. "I thought if I presented my papers that I could travel here safely and work with the mages here. I didn't know they'd drag me here chained to a Templar saddle with just enough food and water to keep me alive."
"You don't know many Templars," Anders said grudgingly. He gently took her hand in his and lifted her arm. He examined her wrist where it had been rubbed raw by the manacle used to chain her. "Did they beat you?" he queried, his voice soft and understanding.
"No, but they kept me drained of mana. I didn't sleep well. It's so cold here at night." She shivered. "By the third day I was so weak I tripped over every rock or stick on the road." She pulled her hand away from his and curled back in on herself. "What have I gotten myself into?" The pained look in her eyes was evidence enough that she wasn't looking for an answer.
"I'm... sorry." Anders knew exactly what she was feeling. She was obviously confused and a little bit frightened. He felt a kinship with the small woman in front of him and with that came the desire to protect her. He puzzled over what to do or say next.
At the sound of the tumblers turning in the heavy locks on the door her head lifted. The sliver of light coming through the crack in the door revealed two Templars in full armor. "Knight-Commander Greagoir and the First Enchanter want to see you, witch." This new Templar was as hard and cold as those who had shoved her in initially.
"What? I'm not invited? Very well then, I shall remain and clean the place up a bit. But you let them know I'll not be inviting them to my party. Too bad really. They'll miss out on the dancing girls." Anders plastered a ridiculous grin across his face but his eyes were hard and cold.
"Keep your mouth shut, filthy mage!" the Templar growled. He seemed to be reaching for his sword. The second Templar, who had been silent through the exchange stopped him.
"Adair, that's not necessary. You know Anders. This should hardly surprise you."
Adair lowered his arm to the side, tension still rippling through him. "Very well, Cullen. Get the little witch and let's get back upstairs. It's damp down here." He stepped away from the door.
Ilaria surprise of Cullen's gentleness as he reached down and helped her stand was obvious. She eyed his gauntleted hand warily before pressing her small, delicate fingers in his. "Come along then," he said helping her to stand. "It's best not to keep the Knight-Commander waiting." He kept a steadying hand under her arm as the trio exited the dank cell.
Ilaria shot Anders a glance with a half hearted smile before allowing the Templars to escort her out of the dungeon. As the door began to shut behind them, Anders called out, "Welcome to Ferelden!" He watched her leave, hoping he'd see her again and wondering if he'd get the chance to.