They were hemmed in on all sides; demons behind them, blood mages and Magisters in front of them. She'd tried to reason with Fenris, to make him understand that this wasn't the best place to stage their counter assault, but the elf had been too deeply devoured by rage to see reason.
So Moira Hawke, accompanied by Sebastian and Merrill, followed Fenris into the Dragon's maw where they were now trapped by the Magister Hadriana.
Fenris was badly injured, Merrill not much better. Sebastian was somehow keeping the demons behind them at bay though he was no close-quarters warrior. Moira was collapsed, one knee holding her up while her body struggled to fall apart around her.
She knew a lost battle when she saw one.
"A bargain, if you've mind to hear it." Her voice sounded strained even to her ears.
The thin faced, sallow looking Mage only scowled at her, dirty blue eyes smouldering in their deep sockets. She hesitated the briefest moment, and Moira knew she was gauging the field for a trap. "A bargain? Ha! I've nearly won!"
Moira chuckled, a sick and disturbing sound. "If you're interested in phyrric victories, by all means ignore me. But one bird in the hand is worth more than two in the bush. You'll never capture us all alive, and I doubt very much that Fenris will accompany you gracefully. How many men are you willing to lose to this cause? What measure of risk are you personally willing to take to see your Master's plans through?" She watched the wheels turn in Hadriana's head, weighing the likelyhood of success against the chance of personal maiming.
"I'm listening."
Moira licked her lips. "I propose a trade."
There was a bark of laughter, a sudden shallow gasp. She felt the weight of Fenris' death glare boring holes into her back, but she held Hadriana's amused stare with a serious and unblinking gaze. "Alittle force is all it would have taken to get the wolf back? We should have pressed harder on the coast."
Moira continued to watch and stare, unmoved by the witch's mockery. "Not Fenris. Take me in his place. Surely you have an adequate measure of my skills by now. My magic is no lyrium mark, but it may as well be. And a willing slave must surely be easier to manage than a defiant, resentful and surly elf."
That seemed to stop Hadriana in her tracks. The look in her eyes shifted ever so slightly from cruel to one of appraisal as she eyed the Mage across from her before her gaze slid to Fenris and Merrill behind her.
"And what's going to keep us from simply taking you anyway? You must know we'll never let you leave alive if you resist us."
"Because I will give myself up without resistance. I will follow you to Minrathous and submit myself to Danarius without a word of contempt or disrespect." Moira could see betrayal spinning into Hadriana's words. She had to be quick. "You think to travel back to Tevinter with a full party of bitter and angry mages, an archer, and particularly nasty warrior in tow? You and yours must not sleep, to be so unconcerned of retribution."
"One slave, not even the one we were sent for, seems a poor offer." She was staring fully at Merrill now, and Moira felt a surge of hate for this woman before she suggested what she had known was coming. "Perhaps you could sweeten the pot? That archer looks lovely. Even the little mageling elf would do."
"This is your only offer, witch. Do you decline? We have a battle to resume if you're quite finished wasting my time." The magic that had deserted her was slowly growing again; she could feel it tingle in her hands and fingers as she itched to just incinerate the woman and be done with it. But she wasn't alone; she had others to look after.
She would not fail them as she'd failed Bethany and Carver.
Hadriana simply glared, mulling it over.
"You don't know what you're offering, Hawke." She couldn't help but glance back at Fenris, his strange armor opened in places while wounds gaped underneath. He'd need to see Anders, and with a jolt she realized she wouldn't be there to mediate.
Anders... He'd be so angry that she didn't say goodbye. She had to chuckle at that; it wouldn't be that she wasn't saying goodbye, he would have scolded her for being thoughtless and even thinking it up in the first place.
"Tell Anders to be cautious." Moira finally said, pulling herself from the montage of memories she had been unable to stop herself from watching. The first time she'd seen him, healing a small and broken boy until he was healed and whole again, draining himself to near exhaustion. The way he would smirk at the mention of cats. The firelight on his face in the Hanged Man. … The night they'd spent, less than a week ago, at her estate. She'd almost felt whole.
She had to stop herself, or she would never be able to go through with this. "And tell Mother, tell her something. Just don't tell her what I did."
"You think she would rather hear that all of her children had perished before she joined the Maker's side?" Sebastian's voice cut through her regret like a whip crack. His voice was harsh, and she could almost hear a divine rant coming on. "This is sheer folly, Hawke!"
"This is the only way we can escape alive." Moira said firmly. "This is the only way to keep you all safe."
"We are men and women grown; we can take care of ourselves."
"The discussion is over Sebastian. The decision has been made." The Mage turned, emphasizing the finality of her statement. "Well?"
Hadriana could only glare, before she gave a sharp nod. "So be it. We will take you in the elf's place." She glanced at Fenris, smirking darkly. "Such a strong woman in trade, Danarius will be sure to forget all about his disobedient wolf."
"They leave the way we came." Moira growled before Hadriana could say a word more. "We will follow them outside and wait at the point where the city's gates can be seen. We leave the Free Marches when I see them safely into the city."
"So be it... Hawke, was it? I hope you enjoyed making that order," Hadriana's smirk was wider, and more sickening. "It will be your last, slave."