Chapter 1: Abducted

He awoke to the sound of someone pacing around, back in forth in an impatient manner. He tried to move, only to find himself restricted to an extremely uncomfortable chair, his hands bound, clapped in metals. Also, a cloth was over his eyes, preventing him from seeing where he was or who was the person (or people) in the room with him. He panicked. What happened? He was in the Hightown Mansion. After two rough days on Wounded Coast with Hawke, Isabela and the abom – mage, he finally got some time for himself. He remembered how he fell asleep, sinking into his bed, not even removing his armor.

He was tired, but he wasn't a fool. He locked the doors. They must have picked his locks. He was getting annoyed. If this was another one of Isabela's "harmless pranks", he'll skin her. For real.

"Who are you? Release me!"

He rummaged, trying to break free, but somehow the binds were... weakening him. He went pale. He heard of this. Special kind of metal that subsided magic. And since his tattoos were lyrium... those bastards. Who kidnapped him? Danarius was dead.

"Who are you! I demand an answer!" He panic grew by a perimeter. The steps drew closer and someone leaned closer, blew on his ears. When he shivered in fear, a chuckle escaped his captor's lips. "Don't worry. If you cooperate, we won't have to take... drastic measures." A scruffy voice on the left said. He tilted his head. "I will not cooperate with kidnappers. You're slavers, aren't you? I abhor your kind. I'd rather die than help you." He spat on the floor.

"Now, now. At ease. To some we might seem as kidnappers, but we are simply doing our sacred duty to the Maker. Isn't that right, men?" Some new, overly sweet manly voice said.

Templars.

He was kidnapped by templars? But he wasn't a mage! Why would they... unless they wanted information on someone. Like the witch or the abom- mage. They weren't on good terms most of all times, but he'd never sell them out to the templars. They are Hawke's friends. Marginally, over the last six years, maybe they became more like his associates, too.

"I see you have figured out what we want from you, elf. Do us all a favor and tell us what you know about the apostate running the free clinic in Darktown. He has eluded our capture for years. I have a personal interest in meeting the interesting fellow." The sweet voice coated in venom slurred the last words, enjoying the tension.

"I don't know what you're talking about, templar. I don't know any mages." He lied to them. He won't sell out the mage to templars. Their opinions varied, but he wasn't so heartless to expose him to his greatest fear. He knew what templars did to apostates in this city. Either killed them or made them Tranquil. He wished no such fate for the mage, despite their differences.

"Don't lie to me, elf. If you don't cooperate, we will have to use other means for getting information."

"I won't help you. I don't deal with your kind. You are no better than the fucking slavers, preying on the weak."

"Pity." Someone approached him and pressed some vial with foul liquid to his lips. He vehemently refused to open his mouth, but another pair of hands forced his lips apart, the liquid flowing into his mouth. He spit out and he was punched in stomach for it. He gasped at the sudden pain and the liquid was once more forced down his throat, the hands holding his head in place until he swallowed down a bit. He coughed. It was foul beyond measure. His insides hurt. Was this poison? His lyrium markings hurt like never before. The coppery taste in his mouth got worse when he coughed up. Blood.

"Fasta Vass! You're all insane!"

"Only doing our duty, elf. We heard of your violent nature from contacts. Your powerful friends don't know about you capture. I am pretty sure no one knows about this. We can kill you and one will come."

He laughed bitterly. "Then kill me. I won't say anything."

"Oh, I am sure you will tell us. Magebane mixed with Antivan Crow poison and Soldier's Bane. A very helpful potion, don't you think? If you want an antidote, you should tell us. You wish to live, yes? Why cover for some mage you don't even care about? We know all about Lady Hawke's companions, expect for the mysterious mages. Help us out and you get rid of the mage you hate. Sounds like a fair deal to me."

They knew too much about their group. They should have been more careful... when they came to Gallows. He knew someone was spying on them from the shadows. Fucking templars. "We might not see eye to eye, but the mage is my ally. You can kill me. I won't say anything to you." He snarled at them despite the poison taking its effect. Mainly the Magebane was doing a thing on him. His lyrium tattoos flared and he cried out in pain.

"You won't endure much longer, elf. Do you value that man's life so much you would sacrifice yours to save him?"

"You don't know anything about him, templar. He's a far better person than any of you assholes who kidnap someone in their sleep."

"Fine. I didn't want to do this... but we have a little help here. Say hello." The insufferable sweet voice boomed and he heard how someone new came in, closing the door. "I am sorry it had to come to this, Leto."

Varania?! After killing Danarius, he assumed she ran somewhere far, far from Kirkwall. Why was she here?

"Varania! You traitorous bitch! What are you doing here?"

"I got caught, Leto. Templars here are far more diligent than the ones in Minrathous . I resorted to blood magic. They'll pardon me this time and send me to a Circle somewhere away from here instead of killing me. I simply have to get the information they need. I am sorry, Leto."

If he could, he would crush that bitch's heart right now. He knew he should have killed her. Damn Hawke and Varric for their sympathy towards traitorous siblings. She didn't deserve to live after her first betrayal. This was the second time. And she got the mage involved. He was weakened by the poison that circulated in his bloodstream, each breath he took was strenuous. It took all his willpower to not pass out. He won't let them dig in his head. He won't!

"Leto... I am sorry..." She approached and stopped before him, he felt the strange sensation as she used the blighted magic. He shook his head in a pitiful attempt to get her out of his mind, but she was already there, digging into his memories associated with the mage. Their spats, quarrels, fights they fought together by Hawke's side. When the mage healed him, exhausted from healing and casting spells at enemies, but still willing to help him and everyone else. Then, their first meeting when he came to his clinic with Hawke...

"Vishante Kaffas! You are not sorry at all, bitch! Stop with this!" He yelled out in rage. She dared to go there! She knew where the mage was! Suddenly, the foreign feeling as if someone was digging into his mind vanished without a trace.

Varania walked a bit. "I have it, ser."

The sickly sweet voice laughed, victorious. "We got what we wanted. Leave him here."

They dropped something next to him, but he was still bound. "Don't say we are monsters, elf. Here is the antidote. You have maybe two hours before the poison takes full effect in your system. Though I doubt you'll get the bindings loose. Thank you for your cooperation." The voice laughed one last time in a sick manner and they all left. He cursed at them, shaking with dread and disgust. Varania betrayed him not once, but twice. He unwillingly sold out the mage. The selfless mage who cared for freedom above else. If he won't save him, then he will become a slave to the bastards he hated. Alone against them, he was helpless, even as the powerful abom- mage he was.

He was going to be killed.

Or worse. Become Tranquil. He saw Tranquil mages before. They were empty shells, devoid of life. The mage didn't deserve this.

A frustrated cry escaped his lips in spite of his helplessness. He hoped someone would come to help him. Then he'd stop the templars from doing something to the mage.

"Anders..."

He lost consciousness.

_ TO BE CONTINUED_