Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.
Author's note: For whatever reason, a very dumb plot bunny chose to make itself known. And I started this. To be warned, this is an AU universe, it will make little sense at first but I am hoping that, while it progresses, people will find interesting. I am trying for something a little different so. Opinions and patience, I will try to make this somewhat decent. It will be multi-chaptered.
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rep-a-ra-tion . the making of amends for wrong or injury done; reparation for an injustice
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None of them could say for how long they had been running. At times, it seemed as if they had been born that way, constantly looking over their shoulder for trouble. It was instinctual. It saved their lives. Always in small packs, always keeping one step ahead of their pursuers. They had been twelve in the beginning. Now, it was just them, running, always running even through her legs seemed ready to fall apart at any moment.
"We can't stop, Kate." Her companion's hand gripped for hers in the darkness, fumbling a little until he was effectively pulling her along the grassy path, the rocks, the trees, in between everything that could serve as an obstacle. "The more we run, the more distance we'll get between us and them. Just a little more. Okay?"
She had no idea how he still had breath left in his body to reassure her. Maker, it was going to be this time. This time they were caught. The fear gnawed more than any darkness, wounded more than she thought possible after all that time. It made her legs' complaint turn into a mutter. His hand. She held it tighter and kept running. They could do this. They could.
"Just a little more," he repeated to the path ahead. "Just a little more and we'll be safe."
A shame she had no breath left. A shame the darkness around them was so tight, so heavy that it constricted her words and kept them unsaid. Otherwise she would have told him that the Maker was quite obviously not interested in them. Not in two little elves, not in the fact that the second they slowed down, they would die. The Maker didn't care.
No one knew exactly how or when it had started. Legends told that their kind had once been strong, immortal. The sort of thing the stories are supposed to be made of. Great heroes and strong warriors, the kind that draws envy. They also spoke about how their first land had been destroyed and their kind enslaved. Then freed. Then a second home broken to the ground and they had been reduced to the scraps of society. It hadn't been so bad back then, that was what they were now told and Kate believed.
Then all had gone to the Fade, almost literally. Slowly, their kind was degraded, their few rights taken away. Then the slavery had returned. And the reservations, Maker, how the word was enough to make her want to throw up. A prison, that was all it was, a prison with a glorified name in the worst possible hovels of Ferelden. First the mages in their Circles. Then the elves. Then even the dwarves had disappeared into their tunnels, disgusted at the presumption of the humans. Kate often wished her kind had been smart enough to do the same. What else did they have now? Always on the run, always with the specter of fear as companion. Their ancestors had been stupid.
A hole in the ground stole her attention again back to where it mattered. Run, they couldn't stop running.
"Sam," she tried calling but he didn't pay attention. His eyes turned from one side to the other as if could really discern into the darkness, his little wisp of magic floating loyally around his head.
"Just a few more moments," he repeated as if speaking it out loud would make it come true. "I know there's a river nearby. We can."
Maker, she wished she had his bravery. Struggling to keep with his steps, her fingers tightened around his hand. He would suffer much more if he was caught. He was two of humanity's hatred, she was just one. Though part of his fear was mostly for her. Her, a woman. Most humans didn't care that the woman form had knife ears as long as they had their fun. The stories were never-ending .
"There. We can hide there."
The wisp moved to illuminate his pleased face, making his red hair shine like pure fire, the light eyes which were always stronger than anything she had ever known. She knew that, without Sam, she would have died a long time before. Or given up, closed away in one of the reservations which was little better. "Kate?" His hand tugged on hers lightly for attention. "Look." She did.
The place they had stumbled into was near a river, the sound alone enough to speak of a strong current, even more darkened than any surroundings due to the taller trees dipping from both sides. The rocky sides made any passage even more complicated than the water ever would. But Sam didn't seem interested in crossing. Instead he pointed to the side, to a small cavern she wouldn't have noticed without his gesture.
It was small. It was somewhat secure. They could rest.
"Come on," he continued, pushing her along once again. "Just a."
"Little more?" The girl completed in a breathless whisper. How could he still manage to speak at all? "We need to find you a dictionary next time we're in town. Maker."
His snicker was a faint victory. Soon enough, they fell back into silence, waiting until they were safely inside the refuge to dare any noise. And the rest came, yet again, by instinct. Sam stayed by the entrance, checking the immediate surroundings, casting glyphs to warn them of any assailants, a few more to keep any immobilized in case they did come. The girl protected him. Cautiously, she followed every rocky wall to its end, touching with her hands for any exit, any way out or in. None. In a way, it was a good thing. They couldn't be surprised. And in the other way, continued logic, they wouldn't have any place to run in case of attack. Kate pressed her lips together, fingering the moss right at the end of the cave. It wasn't bad. It would be safer than any tree outside. They had both slept in much worse places than this. They hadn't been just two then though.
Shaking her head to get rid of useless thoughts, she moved back to where Sam was still casting away. His mana would be low already due to exhaustion and, as always, it was up to her to do the little things. Taking out her pack which Maker knew how it hadn't lost, she proceeded to light a small fire, enough to warm the both of them. Then the deep mushrooms, the food of the poor and the aimlessly lost in the forest, a bottle of water they hadn't lost in the last scuffle. At the end, so small that it was a wonder how she still had it, Kate pulled out a piece of chocolate, joining it to his sparse portion of food.
"Ah, there we go." The wisp complained a little at the entrance before vanishing into thin air, announcing her companion's entrance.
Sam was a small man, like any other elf. A little taller, maybe, pale skin of someone who spent his time indoors – or more in the darkness than sunlight. Brown eyes and bushy red hair that grew everywhere since they weren't exactly overcome with hairdressers to keep it tamed. His clothes had also seen better days. Kate knew he had a pair of robes stuck into that pack of his but Fade would eat him alive before he used them. There was little more that screamed mage as robes and cowls. And she wouldn't go into a staff. His had long before been broken and turned into wood when necessary.
And she wasn't that much better. Her leathers were mismatched, fit for men but sturdy enough to last a couple more months if they weren't caught in any scuffles. A hand reached out to touch her hair. Greasy, Kate noticed with a grimace. Lovely. This meant the black tresses would be looking like someone had spat on her. More tanned than him, smaller, stronger, as the rogues of old were supposed to be and she mimicked.
"I didn't know you still had this." Sam had found the chocolate and was watching it between careful fingers like it was some miracle. "How come you didn't eat it after we finished the cereal bars? It would have helped."
She answered by sticking a piece of mushroom in her mouth, half burned by the fire and all. "Sam?"
"Yes?"
"Shut it and eat it."
It would be useless to argue. He was stubborn, she was the same but neither lacked common sense. If she needed strength to keep running, he needed it more to keep the glyphs outside active throughout the night. There would be no argument between them because it had already been done a dozen, a thousand times before ever since they had first met.
Kate had been a city brat. One of those born to the servants of the rich, one of those scavenging in the dark alleys while the parents walked back and forth at others' whims. Lucky, in a way. City people had it slightly better considering the masters they were assigned too. And there were beautiful things in the cities. Her own, Denerim, had been a bustle of activity, buildings as tall as the sky itself which seemed to have been built by a God's hands and not by man's arts. Sam hadn't been that lucky. Being an elf in a small village was bad enough but being an elven mage? His parents had thrown him into the streets as soon as he could find food by himself and take shelter were possible. There was more to the story, she knew, but there was more to hers too. Like how she had found herself running through the streets. He didn't ask about it, she didn't either.
"Come here, you idiot. You'll freeze half to death."
Sam opened the half destroyed jacket and patted the place by his side. It was enough invitation. Without a word, Kate ignored her screaming legs and crawled to his side, burrowing against his chest like it more of a shelter than the cave itself. Warm too.
"Think we can stay here a couple of days?" She asked distractedly, nipping at the mushrooms. Because that would definitely make her meager cooking skills seem any better.
Silence. That'd be a no. Years with him had taught the woman well. There were times in which bad things didn't need to be said.
"If we stay more than a night, they'll catch up. Maria told me the Templars had caught my trail. You know how they are. With our luck, they got the blood from the last camp. They can be on their way."
"Maker above, you're pessimistic." Kate dug one pointy nail against his ribs, eyes lost in the small flames. "I bled all over the place too. How will they be able to distinguish red from red? With attention?"
"They have their ways."
Maybe they had asked Maria, Kate read in between the lines. Maybe they caught some of the others and they spoke of us. Maybe, maybe, so many maybes, so many ways to be betrayed. It wouldn't be the first time a captured elf spoke of others. Or a captured mage. The Circle should be an awful place if they were willing to sell anyone just to avoid going there. This was better. Just him, just her. He kept her going, she kept him safe.
"Stop worrying, will you?" His fingers trailed down her disgusting hair, caring little for the grime and dust. "Eat, Try to sleep. Tomorrow we can decide where to go. How would you like the mountains?"
Any place where the city folk hadn't gone would be good. Kate wasn't feeling like being picky.
"Orzammar still has its gates," he continued when she failed to answer. "It's not a bad idea."
Or so it was said. It was also said that elves were drawn there with the premise of a haven and ended up caught right at those gates. And that the dwarves simply didn't care. It was an awful idea. He, optimistic. She, the dark cloud. No, it was too tiring to even try to dampen his hopes.
"We can turn north in the morning," she declared, choosing to play along for the moment. "Last case scenario, we keep going north to the Free Marches. Maybe beyond?" Beyond would be Tevinter and that would be good for him. He could become a Magister and she his slave? Would be slave. Whatever would keep them together and safe. "We will see in the morning."
"Sounds good." And he so sounded tired. One of her arms slipped around his waist, pulling him closer, as comfortable as possible. "In the morning. We can plan. Clean up."
"Stop talking."
"Stop talking would be good too." Definitely tired.
She scoffed against his chest, a little shake of her head underlining the words. "I mean it, idiot. Go to sleep. I'll keep watch for a little while more."
Sam had no reply for her. Instead, he shifted again to lie against the wall and encircled her with his arms, keeping her warm and almost safe. Almost if not quite. In any other night, he would have complained about her order. Said that he was fine, that he could take shift, that she could sleep longer. They had run too long though. And while she couldn't take another step without wishing to pass out, her eyes remained open for much longer than it took for his breathing to ease into a light sleep.
She, who had stopped believing in the Maker a long time before if she ever had, found herself asking for just one night without commotion. One night of rest. Otherwise, they wouldn't make it.
"Good thing I'm not a mage, Sam," she whispered into the empty cave. "Otherwise, we would be constantly followed by storms and heavy clouds. And rain. Thunderclouds. Ominous and scary things."
"Kallian. Stop talking."
She stopped.
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The first sign of alarm came little after dawn. True to his habits, Sam would have been awake and moving as the sun went up. Unfortunately, the last days had been a confusion of fast escapes and worry, enough to sap him of most energy. When the first glyph went off, he was still deep within his dreams, lost in the Fade where everything seemed clearer and enticing. When the second froze whoever had touched it, Sam was already pushing himself forcibly from his personal heaven, shaking her awake before he could focus.
It was a credit to their time on the run that Kate didn't jump in her place. Instead, she forced her eyes open and moved without noise, reaching for her backpack and then the meager utensils they still carried.
"What is it?" She whispered once everything was at her back. "Templars? Humans?"
His eyes narrowed, little lines wrinkling his forehead as he seemed to focus on the feeling given by the energy outside. It was taking longer than usual too. On regular days, Sam would have already blurted out which without doubt. It was an unknown? Kate remembered crossing Ferelden top to bottom and this had yet to happen. That scared her. It would also scare him.
"I don't know," he whispered, probably deciding it'd be useless to lie. "It feels like something from the Fade? Dirty. Wrong. I can't describe it well. Whatever it is, it doesn't like us."
"Then whatever it is, I vote on moving again." No nonsense, this was something she could do. Amazing what a few hours of sleep could do to a person. Her legs were still hurting but already recovering, tale tell sign that magic had been used at some point during the night, the bloody stupid man. The feeling was probably becoming worse, whatever was struggling against his glyph pushing and pulling at the strands of energy like they were mere ropes to be thrown away. Sam was focusing on keeping them together while waiting for her to clean their traces. She could see while throwing the rests of fireplace around, pieces of charred food in her pockets and earth, as much earth as she could dare covering the dead ashes.
"I don't think it'll care if we clean up or not."
Kate tried not to listen, wasting even more precious minutes to stomp the ground properly and then to grab her dagger with a grimace. Sam couldn't use a staff, she had no proper dagger to fight with. A wonder how they had managed to survive that long. "Done."
Bloody finally. She took the lead, shifting into stealth, trying to keep her movements noiseless, this time her hand reaching for his. Sam was too focused on whatever was on his web, straining to keep whatever it was quiet and still. It became incredibly difficult once they left the cave and saw exactly what he had caught.
"What the hell is that?" The mage wouldn't need her comment but she made it anyway.
The thing was tall, tall as a human. Dark skinned, no hair, arms, legs, everything like a regular human. The similarities ended there. Whatever it is, it seemed to be rotten, decayed flesh covered badly by darkened leathers and stains she didn't want to know the origin of. And it bared its teeth against the magic around him like it could actually bite it, struggled like a rabbit in a cage and Maker.
During her staring, Sam had blanched like Andraste herself had come to drag him into the Circle.
"We're going," it wasn't a request, it was a plain order. "We're going now. Kate. Start running."
He did, she followed. There wasn't even time to ask what the hell had been that thing. Only that Sam said run and she had very good reasons to listen to the other elf.
"Darkspawn," she heard him mutter confusedly, evading branches and holes in a repetition of the night before. "Darkspawn in the south. Maker, it's like the old stories. And that was a scout, couldn't be anything other than a scout. That means. Maker." His concentration had long since shifted into movement and not the magic he had laid behind. Kate noticed it easily when their steps began to be shadowed, when a heavy footfall overpowered theirs. Several. There were several. "Damnit! Don't stop running, Kate!"
Sam sounded afraid. He sounded actually afraid. The man who had pulled her out without a complaint when she had been caught. The one who had killed to keep them safe. The one who always kept her going. He was afraid because of that thing and that fear was enough to filter through the air, fill her veins and body.
But she was tired and so was he.
The first creature had freed itself from the trap faster than they had expected. Kate had the barest warning of a growl – an actual growl – before it irrupted behind her, forcing her to let go of Sam's hand and jump to the ground to avoid a serrated blade. The thing was fixated on her. At least this one. Behind it there were already three others, involved in the revealing glow of magic being used. Sam was already casting but she wasted no time to see what. The creature was on her, swinging left and right with painful accuracy. There was a grand total of two seconds to curse her stupidity before she was forced to push herself from the floor, just in time to avoid partially the blade. Partially only as shown by the deep cut on her clothes, a slowly reddening sleeve hanging precariously to the side.
Crouching, Kate allowed the bag to drop and took a steadier hold on her dagger. It seemed human, she thought more analytically than it should be possible when facing a nightmare. If it seemed human, it could die like one. Right. She had killed before, she could. Think later. She could definitely think later. The darkspawn aimed at her flank and she merely twisted out of the way, using her dagger to pierce every opening he gave her. It wasn't working out perfectly. It bled – a dark, almost black kind of blood – but it didn't go down.
"Stop losing time," yelled Sam's voice in the middle of the maelstrom he was summoning. "Go for the kill or we'll die here. More will be coming."
And she did, what else could be done? Slipping into stealth, she slipped and ducked until she was behind the thing, a quick movement of her arm bringing the dagger from one side to the other on its neck. It fell. Like humans. Only this wasn't a human. This was. "Kate!" Something to keep killing. She forced the bile down her throat and raised her eyes to her surroundings. There were four trapped in whatever Sam was casting but there were even more arriving, more than they could handle, her mind added unhelpfully.
Eyes open fiercely as adrenaline pumped through her veins, a response to the warm blood swiping past the open wound, barely covered by tattered fabric. It hurt, it hurt like hell but it was also needed. While she focused on the pain, warm and recurring, a sure sign she wasn't entering in shock just yet, she wouldn't lose herself into something as simple as weariness. It would have to be enough.
Maybe a dozen, it didn't matter to count. It would only make her lose hope. Kate forced herself to remain attentive instead, to jump from side to side as if her arm didn't hurt, as if she wasn't tired and this was just a bad dream while stabbing everything in between.
"Back to back," she yelled over the commotion. "Sam! Come closer!"
It was just ridiculous to keep silent when everyone around them wasn't. She slid amid the blades, amongst the flaying arms and the kicks aimed in every direction with the sheer intention of reaching the man. He was beginning to pale, Maker help them, and there were no potions for him to take, no rest and the darkspawn – whatever the things were to begin with – were relentless.
Her stomach lurched when he was in her grasp. Sam had been hurt just like her but, unlike her small wound, his was a gaping one, his shirt steadily soaking the blood over his ribs. His brow was furrowed deeply, his attention on his attackers and not on himself. The fear turned worse, even worse as her body begged to stop and throw up whatever it kept, even as she slashed and parried, as she kneeled onto the ground to steal one of their weapons, a badly manufactured ugly thing that was rather sharp for its disgusting appearance.
Her shoulder protested when keeping the heavier weapon. Maker. This was it, she thought in despair, eyes running all around and seeing only the things. They were about to die in the middle of nowhere, caught by something she didn't understand and not against what she had run all her life from. The irony should kill her first.
"Sam."
His teeth were gritted together, locked jaw and the tenacity she knew too well.
"Not a word, Kate," he hissed breathlessly. "Just keep slashing. I'll keep." A fireball. Ice, ice spells kept them stopped time enough for him to summon something more powerful.
But they were so many to kill still. One of the creatures slashed at her face and she tasted blood on her lips, dripping on her eyelid, on her cheek and down her shin. Another punched her in the moment after, a hand from nowhere grasping her leg and tugging, trying to separate them, trying to drag her away. Kate knew she had begun yelling at some point. The sword she had found was lost again and so was Sam, leaving her only her dagger and despair, both used against the arm that kept yanking, kept taking her away.
She stabbed it, again and again, her free hand scratching the floor to try and stop their progress into wherever. Then her dagger was gone from her hand and she was left with only hands and nails. Even those she used, breaking, scratches all over her palms and it hurt, Maker, it hurt but it still didn't release her. She was going to die. She was going to die, Maker, Maker help me.
Then the thing let her go. Just like that. In a moment the pressure on her ankle was like a shackle, wrenching without mercy and afterwards, she was able to scramble back on the harsh floor until she hit something. A chest. Someone. There was no time to grasp her surroundings. Arms had reached to hers and she struggled, a face coming far too close, someone unknown taking the thing's place, normal, a normal face, a human one.
It wasn't much better. Humans. Humans had caught them.
"Kate!" Sam was screaming, repeating her name from somewhere. She wanted to say run, run away, keep going and don't look back. They could only harm her body, lock her up. They would do worse to him. The one holding her allowed no such thing, clasping his hand over her mouth.
The woman attempted to pull it away, disgust and dread melding together until she was acting more like an animal than an elf, biting and trying to shake the hands pulling at her wrists. It was useless. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw Sam was hammered to the ground with a blow strong enough to break bones and lost consciousness immediately. In front of her, the human company – because it was a company, armed with blades and firearms, metal and plastic uniforms like she had never seen in her life – was killing off the rest of the creatures with an unfailing perfection. There was no hope left for them. It was no wonder she could taste tears mixed in her blood
Kate stopped struggling against her bounds as the so called darkspawn stopped breathing. Why try anymore? She was injured, Sam was unconscious, nothing else could be done.
The silence which followed was nothing short of unnatural.
"Easier than expected."
This group was mostly nondescript to her eyes. She was used to elven men not human. The only humans she had claimed to know had been mages and those were a race apart, frailer in appearance and still stronger than any of these beasts carrying swords. There was one of those in back – how she couldn't pretend to guess – wearing robes and cowl, carrying a staff with him like it was any other weapon. But the man right at the front, that one drew attention. His uniform was the same as everyone else's, a dark blue vest with grey lines to one side, a sword that seemed bigger than she was and a firearm that didn't seem much smaller. Black hair, pale skin, older than her by several years, she'd wager. Humanity's age span wasn't in her field of interest. His eyes were the worst in her opinion though, light, cold as ice itself.
And he was staring at her in something very akin to confusion. For few seconds at most. Then it pushed to the back, covered quickly underneath a cover of impassiveness.
"You, girl."
Reality returned with the strength of a thunderstorm. They were going to interrogate them. It was expected, they always did it to whomever they caught. But Fade, she wouldn't give anyone up. Not Maria who had been stuck in the last city nor Sylvan who had taught her basic moves, nor Angrain, Hugh and Tais, none, none of them. Kate trying swallowing and tasted only dirt.
"Are you the mage or your boy?" The dark-haired continued flatly as if they weren't surrounded by piles of bodies.
She gritted her teeth and tried to straighten her back. Seem more dignified. It failed. "None of us are."
His look was a downright confirmation of her stupidity.
"Oh? Really?" His armor clinked noisily as he knelt down and took one of those darkspawn's limbs in his. Just an arm. A severed arm covered in ice. "Winter came earlier, was it?"
"Ferelden's wilderness isn't that warm." Stupid, stupid, stupid, she shouldn't talk back. "It comes without air-conditioning."
Someone punched her, right against the cut over her forehead. Really? Smacking their prisoners? How…clichéd. Blood sprouted as the wound reopened, hampering her vision of her inquisitor. If it hadn't, she would have seen the frigid glance which the man threw to his subordinate, the silent order to keep out of this business. Kate didn't and her fear remained the same.
"Right. And this?" It was her dagger. He held her poor dagger, bloodied and half destroyed, stolen from a kitchen of all places when the hunger had been enough to drive them into a village. "This isn't a darkspawn weapon. Too simple. Yours or his?"
Kate remained silent. Stubbornly so. Sam wouldn't speak either if he had been awake.
The man who had slapped her snorted loudly like some sort of overgrown pig. "Does it matter, Commander?" He asked briskly. "Pair of knife ears, uncooperative. We can dump them on the next Chantry and they'll get it sorted out. A knife ear with a blade. What's next? One with a gun?"
He would have probably said more but the leader, still kneeling, sent him such a chilling glance that it was a wonder how he didn't apologize immediately for everything he had said, done or thought. "I didn't ask for your opinion." A small piece of her wished to do it for him. One she hid on the back, very deep where her fear was currently trying to make an appearance. "I asked her. Did you two kill these?"
Her lips didn't open. She wasn't going to. She wasn't. He couldn't make her.
The leader shook his head in annoyance but it didn't seem anger. More like the kind of annoyance she had when Sam was being persistent about something. She couldn't be certain – social skills weren't exactly developed in the wilderness – but he didn't seemed to want to kill them. Just there for the reward then?
"It isn't a personal question, girl," he continued, obviously at the brink of his patience. Her dagger was placed in front of her. So close. If she could only get rid of the hands holding her, if only she could. Could what? Stab her way out? How would she drag Sam? "Just tell me. Did you and the boy kill these. Yes or no?"
Perhaps, she thought in sudden hilarity, perhaps killing these things was some sort of crime nowadays. New weapons to capture their kind, it could happen. Humans always had the cruelest ideas to get rid of anything that went against their world. Then again, her greatest crime was being born an elf. Sam's was being a mage. They were both doomed anyway.
Slowly, her head nodded once.
The man seemed pleased.
"You have to be joking." Again, the asshole who beat up tied girls. "You can't be thinking of this, Commander. It would be. Ridiculous."
Another one of those looks. "I don't seem to remember asking you anything, Vaughan," the Commander said in an impossibly calm tone. "In fact, I wasn't the one who ordered you to come. So either shut up or return to the compound. I won't deal with your insubordination more than absolutely necessary."
The human spoke with the confidence of someone who lead others for a living, who could kill people without batting an eyelash. Kate had the impression he could and would do so if the other pushed him far enough. It wouldn't make her shed a tear. In fact, they could and should just kill each other right in front of her.
The black haired one seemed too in control for that though. Instead of playing her little fantasy, he rose from the floor and threw her dagger in front of her.
"Release her," he ordered to whoever was gripping her wrists. "The boy too. They'll be coming with us."
Like Hell.
"Look, girl. I don't care that you're an elf." Kate's expression was one of pure and undiluted disbelief. As if. Everyone cared that she was an elf. Everyone cared elves ran around free. It was doom upon the world, it seemed. "The only thing I care is that you can fight. Or have a basic of it. Think anyone would manage to get these many down in little time?"
It hadn't been just her. It had been Sam, wide spread spells; he was rather good at those. Fade take her, she wouldn't tell him that. Damnit it all.
"Few would, especially without proper training," he continued, caring little for her reaction. "My job's to end them. Yours will be to kill for me. That's the only thing you need to know."
He wanted a. "You want an assassin?" The words escaped her before she could stop them.
When had her hands been freed? When had they grasped her small weapon? Where was Sam and why was she looking at this man instead of running?
"Yes." That sure was blunt. "And no. I need warriors. An elf can kill as well as anyone else. So can a mage. A Blight is coming and I'm not allowing anyone to tell me what can or cannot cut a darkspawn's throat." That would be a barb to the other man, not her. "Consider yourself conscripted, girl. Same with your boy."
Darkspawn. Blight. Conscripted. When was someone going to start making sense? Her head was swimming, either due to blood loss or the amount of information, she wasn't sure. Sam would understand but he was still out cold. Maker, he was just knocked out. She could finally turn and see the steady rise and fall of his chest. Thank the Maker.
"I don't get it," again, she spoke involuntarily. "What…?"
One of the man's hands seized hers – rougher than Sam's ever were – and pulled her upwards without requesting permission. She shook it off like it was a serpent.
"You don't have to get it." Not a serpent but a wolf, harsh cold eyes of someone who killed effortlessly and didn't mind it at all. "Only thing you need to know is how to stab fast and obey me. Do that and you live. The rest is inconsequential. Your names, girl?"
Which ones? Sam wasn't Sam, she wasn't Kate, their names were secret, whispered between them to keep whatever they could of their once culture. Kate wasn't about to give that up.
"Tabris," she offered reluctantly. Better than girl and boy like they were dogs he was picking up on his way. "He's Surana."
Again, the Commander stared down at her, pleased with whatever was in his mind, as if a point he had assumed at first had just been proved. He nodded in her direction before turning away. Trusting her to obey.
"I am Warden-Commander Loghain of the Grey. You follow me now."
