Summary: He has spent nearly a year chasing her. Now Sebastian has finally found her, yet something stays his hand.

Disclaimer: Sureya is mine. Rights to everything else? Pfffh.

Queen's Quornor: There is another idea I have for "Behind Closed Doors" involving Sebastian, but I have wondered what would happen if his quarry was not a mage. Then I hit upon another thought, and it turned into a full-grown plotbunny. I haven't seen anybody else do this yet, but then again I'm not as vigilant with the DA forums as I am with the FFVII section.

Vengeance Be Done

"Are you certain you wish to confront them yourself, your highness? From what you've told me, the Champion is hardly somebody to face without an army behind you."

The old general's concern was commendable, but Sebastian remained adamant. He wanted to arrest Sureya and Fenris without incident, if possible. After all, they were not the ones who had slain the Grand Cleric. Their crime was that of omission, of not telling him what Anders was planning. Whether they had known or not was inconsequential, by his reckoning; since the perpetrator could not be found, his most notable comrades were to be used as an example to the legions of restless mages. "I want to talk them down, Caddock. Hawke is not unreasonable, and will want to avoid violence. If I can convince her to surrender peacefully, then Fenris should follow her example without trouble. He will not be separated from her."

Caddock crossed his thick arms over his great barrel of a chest, black brows knitted in a fearsome scowl. Since the return of Starkhaven's rightful prince, he had become Sebastian's self-appointed bodyguard and resumed his position as commander of the city's forces. Knowing that his liege was the last member of the royal Vael line and currently lacked an heir, he was fiercely protective of the young prince. "I don't like it, your highness. What will you do if they refuse to surrender? Let me go as your proxy; you are too valuable to risk in such an endeavor."

"I can't do that, Caddock. I used to be their friend, and you are the man they have most often seen pursuing them. If anybody can talk them down, it's me." Sebastian slung his bow over his shoulder and checked the arrows in his quiver. "Maker willing, they will come without a fuss. There really was no need to bring an entire army to apprehend them, you know."

"These people tore through all of Kirkwall's templars without rest, your highness. It was a necessary precaution."

Sebastian threw aside the tent-flap and paused to look back at his general. "If it comes to that, our men will suffer the same fate as the templars."

Caddock's scowl deepened, but he did not reply. He followed his prince along the maze of tents and mud, occasionally barking orders at men who somehow displeased him during the impromptu inspection. Sebastian ignored the frenzied scrabble of harried soldiers, focusing instead on the rocky gash in the slope above them. The cave had been gouged into the stone some ages ago, and a spill of boulders and stones vomited from the opening in an eternal tumble of the mountain's innards. Scouts had tracked the fugitive couple to this cave, and it had been confirmed by a nearby village that an elf with white hair and odd markings and a young woman had been sheltering within. Apparently there had been little contact with them since they had settled, which had led to the rumors which caught Sebastian's attention. The elf was seen regularly around the cave, hunting game and carrying small sacks of fruit collected from wild trees, but of his companion there was no sign.

That observation puzzled Sebastian. Of the two of them, Sureya was the unremarkable one. It would make far more sense for her to do the hunting and foraging, as she could travel incognito. Why was Fenris doing all the work?

He approached the slope and gazed up at the opening, shading his eyes with his hand. It did not appear that anybody was studying them, but he was willing to bet otherwise. Knowing Fenris, the elf was probably just inside the jagged mouth, observing them.

"I'll return within the hour, Craddock. If it's any longer than that, bring five of your best men to the cave. But you are not to hurt either Hawke or her companion, understand? I want them both alive."

The burly general nodded reluctantly. "Understood, Highness. Maker watch over you."

"And over you, should you have to come after me." The prince began picking his way up the still rockslide, leaving his general behind. The footing was treacherous, and several times Sebastian had to stop to catch his balance. On occasion when he glanced upward, his sharp archer's eyes picked out flashes of white within the darkness of the cave. Fenris was definitely there, watching his progress.

That suspicion was confirmed when he was only twenty feet away from the cave. Fenris stepped out of the shadows, his face marred by an ugly frown. It was with some relief that Sebastian noted the elf's sword remained across his back, not in his hand. He was puzzled, however, to note that the elf's left pauldron was missing. "What do you want?" he called down to him.

Sebastian planted his feet as securely as possible amidst the rocks and gazed at his former companion, keeping his hands well away from his weapons. "I come to parley, Fenris. Nothing more than that."

"You want us to surrender, to you?" The elf's frown increased. "After what you said back in Kirkwall, you should be lucky I let you get this close. You're not getting anywhere near Sureya."

"Can't she speak for herself?" Sebastian shifted slightly. Keeping his legs in this position on the steep incline was beginning to cramp his muscles. "Where is she? Last I recalled, Hawke preferred handling negociations herself. You never liked dealing with strangers."

Fenris' lip curled in a snarl, but the prince did not think it was meant for him. That anger seemed directed at something else. "She cannot approach at the moment, or I would be letting her handle this."

"My scouts said she never leaves the cave, but we know she's here. Why won't she come out?" He tipped his head to the side as he considered the elf. "Is something the matter with her?"

"That is no concern of yours," Fenris shot back. His fists curled into balls at his sides. "You're wasting your time chasing us. Sureya will soon be beyond your reach, and I'll not see her disturbed at a time like this. Leave us in peace!"

Sebastian shook his head. "I can't do that, Fenris. I have a duty to the Chantry to see her apprehended in connection with Elthina's murder, as well as you. Aren't you tired of all this running? I can swear that neither of you will be harmed before you have been interviewed by the Seekers."

"What good is your word? You swore vengeance on her and Anders, and I doubt you will be satisfied with mere imprisonment. You made it perfectly clear that blood should be spilled for blood taken." His jade eyes glittered malevolently at the prince. "Or did I imagine your response to the Flint Company's actions?"

The words stung, but Sebastian did not give him the victory of a flinch. He was not the same impulsive man who had posted that bounty all those years ago. "I will have full vengeance upon Anders. But I prayed to the Maker for guidance in this matter, and came to the conclusion that Hawke was only aiding a trusted friend. If she had known what he planned, I doubt she would have let it stand."

"So you can actually learn from your mistakes." Fenris nodded, but did not relax. "Perhaps you will make a suitable ruler yet."

"But if there is to be any hope of acquittal, you must both surrender to my custody and return with me to Starkhaven," the prince added. "If you continue to resist, I will have to take you by force."

The elf offered him the barest hint of teeth, then cocked his head as though listening to something. He turned slightly to the side, keeping his eyes fixed on Sebastian. "Are you sure?" he called deeper into the cave.

The reply was apparently to the affirmative, because Fenris beckoned to him. "She wants to see you. But know that if you come up here, you must swear, in the Maker's name, that you will not harm her. Will you make that oath?"

Sebastian nodded. "I swear I will not lift a finger against her. Maker strike me down if I break my word." He watched Fenris consider him with hooded, appraising eyes, then sighed his relief at the short nod. His word was acceptable.

He finished climbing the slope and entered the cave, but was stopped by Fenris' upraised hand. "Give me your weapons."

"You haven't changed a bit," he noted, handing over his bow, quiver, and knife.

"I've had a great deal of practice in running from hunters." One corner of the elf's mouth quirked briefly at his little joke, and he stalked into the cool depths of the cave. "Follow me."

Sebastian trailed after his former companion through a bewildering array of natural defenses. The cave seemed as a the maw of some gigantic beast, crammed with sharp pillars of rock erupting from the floor and hanging threateningly above their heads. The rocks seemed to close about the pair, and the prince was grateful for the eerie luminescence bathing them, a product of the minerals which speckled the ceiling. A narrow path, worn smooth by long-absent water, snaked through the clusters to a fork. The path continued into the darkness, deeper into the mountain. The other side of the fork led into a smaller cavern, thankfully devoid of the stalagmites. Fenris paused outside the opening, fixing Sebastian with a baleful stare.

"Remember your oath," he rasped before stepping inside.

The cavern was used as their living quarters. Torches had been jammed between close-haning stalactites, providing guttering light for human eyes unaccustomed to the darkness. Their packs had been laid in one corner and a pair of waterskins hung from two spurs of upthrusting rock on the walls. Sureya's sword leaned atop the packs and her armor lay abandoned on the floor, save for a lonely cricket exploring the dusty chainmail. At the far end of the room was a bed made of their blankets, and within them lay Sureya.

"Hello, Sebastian," she croaked in greeting.

Sebastian sucked in a deep breath when he saw her, feeling his eyes start from their sockets. This was hardly the woman he had expected to find. He had anticipated the tall, lithe warrior who had beheaded the Arishok with a single blow, the exquisitely toned woman who had captured the hearts of an entire city's populace. He had thought the reason she might be loathe to greet him might be related to a pregnancy, perhaps, or Fenris' unwillingness to subject her to curious scrutiny. It was clear that neither of those theories held any water as the true reason she remained out of sight.

Sureya lay propped against the wall, regarding him with sunken blue eyes that seemed too large for her skull. Her golden tan was no more, instead replaced by flesh the color and consistency of old paper. The long black hair, famous for the blue highlights so adept at catching the sun as she fought, pooled in a stringy tangle of lifeless strands. Her muscles were nowhere in evidence, and he could clearly pick out the individual bones of her hands and shoulders. She was clad only in her smalls, which displayed the sad remnants of the large bosom so often praised by amatuer storytellers in theoretically flattering verse. The vivacity he remembered seemed drained, completely at odds with the skeleton of a woman before him.

Fenris had lowered himself to sit beside her, one arm slipped around her lower back to help keep her up. Now the reason behind the missing pauldron became apparent, as he could not have encircled her comfortably otherwise. His right hand lay atop hers, and it appeared that what little strength remained was being expended to hold his fingers within her own. He continued to regard Sebastian with mistrust, but now the reason for his anger was obvious to the startled prince. Sureya did not look as though she would live out the day.

"I take it you are surprised to see me in this state?" she asked with a tired smile.

"Hawke, what happened to you?" Sebastian finally managed to stammer. "You were nothing like this last I saw you."

"Fooled you too." She laughed to herself, then doubled as the mirth transformed into a harsh, wracking fit of coughs. The prince was alarmed to note the flecks of blood which dotted the blanket as she bent over it. Fenris supported her as she hacked, then helped her back into her former sitting position. He used a stained cloth to wipe the blood from her lips, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and helpless rage.

"Don't push yourself," he chided gently. "You need to conserve your strength."

"I don't think it's going to matter much longer, my love." She let Fenris arrange her pillow so it cushioned her back against the wall. Sebastian remembered that she had never used pillows on the road when they traveled together; this one looked fairly new, too clean to have been long in her possession. Fenris must have gotten it for her recently.

"What did you mean, you 'fooled me'?" the prince pressed, almost desperate for answers.

Sureya gave him that same tired, gentle smile. "I found out I had the wasting illness while we were still in Kirkwall. Started coughing up blood shortly after Orsino gave his little spiel in Hightown and Meredith butted heads with the Grand Cleric. Anders examined me and told me what was wrong. He said I would be lucky to live another year."

"I had no idea until the day after we confronted Danarius and my sister," Fenris cut in. "She started coughing a few hours after we made up, and at first I thought it was all the dust in the mansion. But when I saw the blood, I demanded answers."

"So I told him, and of course Anders knew. He actually helped me hide my condition by casting healing spells on me everyday. It didn't help the illness, but it did hide what it was doing to my body. Varric found out when I asked him to start wrapping up my businesses for me. I told Isabela over a jug of whiskey." She rubbed her thumb over the side of Fenris' fingers, getting a tiny smile out of him. "Decided not to tell you or Merrill because I didn't know how either of you would react. Same with Bethany. How could I have gotten word to her anyway, with her in the Gallows?"

"So, you kept this from everybody?" Sebastian's mind boggled. "Why? Didn't you want our support? We were your friends, Hawke!"

Her eyes darkened with regret. "Kirkwall needed its Champion, and what use would it have been for me to lie around in bed, waiting to recover when I never will? I didn't tell anybody else because it would have done no good at all. Maker only knows what Meredith would have done to Orsino and the Circle, to say nothing of Anders and Merrill, if she thought I was too weak to protect them." Her lips curved upward again. "Besides, if I had told you, the entire Chantry would have known within the hour, and the Grand Cleric would have led prayers and vigils for my good health. The whole of Kirkwall would have found out, and Meredith would have made her move that much sooner."

To protect the mages, she had hidden her illness. That was just like Sureya. "But that was months before the Battle of the Gallows, Hawke! Ser Cullen told me you were in top form during the fight against Meredith; how could you have hidden your sickness and still prevailed in such fierce conflict?" he asked, sinking to his knees.

"Because Orsino helped her." Fenris released her hand to brush some stray hair away from her face, then gripped her fingers again. "She collapsed in the Gallows jail, after the templars' initial onslaught."

"Merrill was nearly frantic when she found out what was wrong." Sureya licked her lips and frowned. "Can I have some water, please?"

Sebastian retrieved one of the skins hanging on the wall and passed it to Fenris, who unstopped the vessel and carefully helped his lover drink. Once more he wiped her lips clean when she had finished. "What did Orsino do? I was told he transformed into some hideous monster through blood magic, and you were forced to kill him."

"Blood magic was involved, but he did not turn into a monster. That was just another templar story, justification for the slaughter." She grimaced at the memory. "As if they needed justification. Chantry authorities almost never examine the other side of the stories they are given by their templars."

"Orsino said the mages needed their Champion more than their First Enchanter, and he told us he had come across something that might help while he was examining Quentin's research," Fenris continued for her. Sureya leaned against his shoulder, seemingly more drained than before. "He told us about a ritual that would use his life-force to revitalize her to her full health. It could not, however, remove the illness, and it would result in his death. That is why it is not a well-known ritual, because few blood mages are ever so selfless."

"So the First Enchanter was a blood mage?"

"I don't think so. The power came from the fact that he was already a powerful mage, not from prior practice of forbidden magic. Either he was very, very good at hiding it, or that really was his first and only time using blood magic." The elf glanced down at her, and Sebastian could not help feeling as though he was intruding upon what should have been a private moment. This was the only occasion when he could definitively say that he beheld Fenris' heart in his eyes. "Sureya was unconscious when he suggested it, so I told him to use the ritual. Much as I abhor blood magic, I couldn't bear the thought of losing her so soon."

"I woke up feeling much better than I had in weeks, and Orsino was lying next to me, close to death. With his last breath, he asked me to save the mages." Sureya closed her eyes, her drawn face colored by sorrow. "So I did. I've done what I can to help them, with the time I have left."

"Of which there was precious little to begin with," Fenris added, glaring at Sebastian again. It was clear he blamed him for his lover's current condition. He was starting to agree with the elf on that count.

"It started getting really bad this last month. We decided to come here, to try and get some peace for ourselves."

"And I'm disrupting that peace." Sebastian bowed his head to the pair, feeling ashamed for his dogged pursuit of them. "Obviously, I had no idea, Hawke. Forgive me. Had I realized, I would have left you alone."

"No, you wouldn't." Her teeth flashed in a mocking smile tinted with pain. "You would have redoubled your efforts to catch us, so the Chantry could have its say in my fate before the Maker does."

He fought not to squirm at the jab. She really did know him, all too well. "It appears that Elthina was avenged before she even died, whatever your part in her murder may have been. I'm sorry, for blaming and hunting you all this time. You deserved to live in peace, and I denied you that."

"There was never going to be much peace for either of us. We couldn't start a family like I had dreamed because of my illness, and you aren't our only pursuer. Chantry forces are after us too, and we've dodged them a lot more often than we have you." Sureya sighed softly, careful not to trigger a coughing fit. Her fingers tightened on Fenris'. "We decided to enjoy what time I have left, since I've done very little living for myself since my father died."

"She spent so much time and energy protecting those around her, particularly me. I refuse to let anyone disturb her in her final days." Fenris appeared lost for a moment, almost undone by the knowledge that he would soon lose her, but he clenched his jaw and his eyes hardened. "I protect her now, since she can no longer protect herself."

"That leads us to a question," she began. The Champion took a deep breath, but her question was lost in a barrage of violent respiratory expulsions, each deep hack almost tearing her frail body apart. Sebastian started forward, but a sharp glance from Fenris warned him off and he knelt helplessly at the foot of the blanket pile, watching the elf hold her steady while she coughed blood.

When the bout had passed she collapsed back against the pillow and Fenris' arm, even paler than before. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and her eyes were reddened by the effort of coughing so hard. "What will you do with us, Prince of Starkhaven?" she croaked, her azure eyes unnervingly steady.

He considered them for a while, then rose to his feet and moved to his weapons. Fenris had dropped them by the mouth of their little cavern, and from the corner of his eye Sebastian saw the elf start to rise. Sureya's fingers tightened upon him, however, and proved enough to stop him.

Armed once more, the prince turned to face them again. "You are free, Champion Hawke of Kirkwall. Fenris, you also are free to live as you will. I will tell no one what I have seen unless need arises." He bowed to them, aware of their gazes upon him. "Maker be with you both, and farewell."

"Farewell, Prince Sebastian. Maker guide your steps," she called after him as he left. Fenris did not say anything, but he knew he was glad to see him go. The elf might never forgive him for robbing what precious little time Sureya had left, but Sebastian wished him no ill. He would pray for Fenris' peace, because he would be lost without the woman he loved so dear. Sureya's death, he knew, would devastate the elven warrior.

As he emerged from the cave, Sebastian blinked at the sunlight and began to pick his way back down the slope. Craddock met him at the edge of the camp, his dark eyes concerned.

"I take it you weren't able to talk them into surrender, your highness?" he queried, following Sebastian back to his tent.

The prince stopped and looked back to the lonely gash in the mountainside, feeling his world darken. What would Sureya's condition be now, if he had not pushed her in needless pursuit? How much longer would she have to live if she had been allowed peace instead of flight? "Tell the men to pack up. We're returning to Starkhaven," he said quietly, turning away.

"Your Highness?" Craddock asked, thoroughly flummoxed by the command. "We all saw the elf up there. Why would you - "

"They do not need any further punishment from me or mine, General Craddock. That's all you need know." He threw open the tent-flap and stepped inside the cool interior, inhaling deep draughts of air that smelled of thick canvas and wood oil. After listening to his general and friend bellowing commands to make ready for the march home, Sebastian shed his bow and quiver on the table with his maps. That done, he went to his low cot and knelt beside it. Clasping his hands tightly and pressing them to his forehead, he bent over his upraised knee and closed his eyes.

"Maker, your humble servant comes before you now to ask for your forgiveness..."