xxxXXXxxx

dis-trust. to feel absence of trust in, deem of questionable sufficiency or reality; to be suspicious of.

xxxXXXxxx

"Don't touch him."

It wasn't the best way to start her presence within. Whatever this group was and yet, Kate didn't need to force her words out. They came willingly.

As soon as she had been freed and the Commander turned away, the woman had scrambled to where Sam had fallen. He was a mess. The previous injury near his stomach was still the worst but a glaring bloodstain had joined it, covering his dirty hair in red. Hiding what was either a concussion or a broken head. Likely both. He still hadn't regained consciousness. Bastards, she thought, old hatred bitter and familiar as the air in her lungs. Hadn't his first injury been enough? No, they always needed to harm others, make themselves feel superior. Kate hesitated before turning their back on them. Moaning and gripping wouldn't get him treated. Fearing these men when they had just helped them – by accident, Kate would bet her life on it – wouldn't it either. Forcing her own aches to the side, the girl knelt by his side and removed the remains of his shirt, using them to clean the blood staining his skin. A large cut, ragged due to a serrated blade. Not vital.

It was when one of the men chose to come closer, reaching out for Sam with unknown purposes. Before Kate could think, she was already screaming. His intentions couldn't be friendly. They never were.

"Was just going to help, miss," the human explained cautiously, hands outstretched between them as a barrier. "He looks bad. I got a couple of potions, we can bandage."

"We," she interrupted. "Aren't going to do a thing. I am going to take care of him." And they wouldn't. What a nerve. First they beat an injured man and then they came with easy soft voices, like they had nothing to do with the blood covering Sam's clothing, with the way he shivered every time her fingers pressed too hard against his injury.

"Awesome. Commander," another unknown voice, lost in the throng of men. "You conscripted a wild cat."

"A cavewoman, most likely."

A round of rough laughter followed those words like a bunch of drunkards outside a club. It would be easy to yell back, to insult all of them. After all, she was one and with much pride. Kate had been raised in the city though and this approximation of an insult was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to that. She shook her head, uncaring of how patronizing that might seem. No. Better to keep her mouth shut for the moment, take care of Sam, one breath a time. Nothing more to it.

Her hands moved quickly in practiced movements, trying to halt the bleeding. His coloring was paler than usual, she noticed with a frown. Infection, maybe, the wound did seem darker than it would be normal.

"Silence."

The Commander drew her attention nevertheless. Her eyes rose momentarily from her work to see how everyone simply fell back into silence like naughty children faced with their father. They all listened to the black-haired one, rebellious or no, even the one who had insulted her first, the one who had suggested a Chantry as their destination. Red faced and angry, gritted teeth and squared jaw but obeyed. That would be one Kate would make sure not to turn her back to. A snake, poisonous and dangerous, Fade if she didn't know the type.

"She will be a sister," Loghain continued in a crude lecture without bothering to look at her. It was probably a good thing. At the word sister, Kate felt like chocking with laughter, call him delusional out loud. Her expression certainly mirrored that wish. "Better keep it mind. So will he. You know the rules."

Kate didn't and no one was inclined to explain the little group of odd clues to the restricted club they seemed to belong to. The uniforms, the blades when most didn't bother with anything as primitive. Who were these people anyway? Maybe Sam would know. He knew about the creatures; he always knew more than her. Apparently just not enough to realize a mage shouldn't play warrior without the get-up.

Ignoring the group, the woman stood from the floor, scavenging through the things' bodies for wherever her bag had been lost. There was little inside of it but they still had a blanket. Cut into pieces, it would be good enough for bandaging. If they gave her enough time, she would be able to light a fire, cauterize the wound. It was easier to move and ignore her own wounds when focusing on his. A little trick. It was probably why she didn't notice the new addition to Sam's vicinity until he was pulling out bandages and small red bottles from wherever.

It was the mage. She very nearly lost it.

"I said I don't need help!" A body made her stumble and crash against the floor, another hampered her ungracious movements when she tried to stand and thankfully kept her attention away from the men's renewed laughter. "Keep away from him! All of you!"

He was a mage. He was persecuted too, Kate should have relied on a possible shared experienced. But her memory saw only how everyone in that company was such an efficient killer in her eyes while she fumbled around with a small dagger. Logic and intelligence took the backstage for distrust. Round ears and wider body, what else was needed to fear?

"Calm down." As if simple words would ever enough. The mage uncorked one of the red bottles and drank a large sip, eyes on hers all the while. Then placed it down, opened one of the bandage kits and rubbed the bandages on uncovered skin. Then the poultices were tried, every paste against his flesh until none would be able to think it was poison. "There you go," he spoke slowly, in a voice that sounded perfect to calm down crazy little children. "It's not dangerous. You can use them to help him. I won't come near."

She couldn't help but feel a little demeaned. Still, he had been intelligent, replying to her fears in the way she wouldn't be able to push away. Slowly, Kate came closer once more, cautious like the wild animal they presumed her as, and took all the items the mage had tried out only to repeat his exact movements. The taste on her tongue was similar to the poultices made on the wilderness, a strong tang of boiled herbs and not the synthetic flavors people added nowadays. The cut on her head began healing slowly. Safe. This was safe.

The mage smiled almost candidly. A kind smile, smooth features, short blond hair falling lightly over his forehead. Innocent looking for someone who had exploded one of the things with a mere gesture. "See?"

Sam chose that moment to begin groaning with an exceptionally good sense of opportunity, avoiding the necessity of a horribly awkward show of gratitude. Taking the medicine, Kate carefully started bandaging each and every scrap, applying poultices liberally in each bandage before tightening. There was no way to make it simple and painless which explained why, every now and then, the elf would grunt and move as if trying to avoid her fingers. Every time he did so, her chest began moving more easily, up and down in steady breaths.

He was alive. He was alive. They could insult her the whole time, the woman wouldn't bother listening.

A small cough preceded his actual awakening. First a fringe of a light brown eye, then a movement of his hand, presumably to rest on his ribs. "That hurt."

Kate felt like she could smack him. That and that she could have broken his ribs with a hug right there and then, both impossible in the present company. The elf settled for placing his hand on his shoulder and tightening, containing the urge to grip even harder until he complained, showed that he was indeed alive and protesting.

"We got them?" He tried to open his eyes properly only to close them a second after with a grimace of pain.

How could she tell him that they had only to be captured anyway? Kate stole a glance to the brunt of the group, the ones currently foraging through the bodies like mismatched thieves. A few looked at the pair of elves randomly, the mage close enough, making sure there was no escape route, and the Commander. He paid them no attention, like they were some lost sheep which were following him home.

Or better, he pretended to. For some reason, the girl was certain he was the most aware of their movements, like he was able to stare them both down even if gazing at the opposite side of the field. That was how dangerous he felt to her.

"We're safe," she whispered, lowering her head against his forehead, warm and wrinkled and still sticky from the blood. It didn't seem a complete lie. He breathed; she did too, it could be worse, so much worse. "Everything's fine. Promise."

Sam was out again by the second word. Which was a good thing, she concluded. There was a limit to how much bullshit she could feed him even when half-conscious.

"It's just a concussion," the mage commented, daring to come closer. He still had his staff nearby, as if not caring he was walking with mundanes, people who, in normal situations, would be pointing a gun at his head and forcing him into a place from where few ever left. So at ease. Didn't mean Kate stop herself from moving, her body a makeshift barrier for Sam's body with the metal dagger oddly comforting at her back. He remained smiling. Maker. Nothing short of an outright threat would keep him away, would it?

"Are you done with all the touchy-feely stuff? Some of us have more things to do than standing around watching you to tending to some street rat."

If the barbs didn't stop, they could at least become slightly more interesting. Whore was one of their favorites. Bitch, skank, knife ear, they never managed to say anything original. The predictableness of the whole thing made her smile even as she pushed the blanket to cover her handiwork. They would make it.

"Shut up." Only the mage wasn't as used to them as she was, it seemed. He was looking at the brown haired man who had spoken, the snake, facing him without a hint of fear and a wide trace of loathing. A moment passed in which the two men glared at each other, a moment of unspoken rivalry.

Kate was sure she didn't have a single thing to do with what was going on there. It was all them. Sam and her were a pretext. Still, the tension was palpable, heavy in the air. It had already caught the attention of a couple more men, of the only woman in the group. Everyone else seemed to take this with a grain of salt and ignored it.

"You and your charity cases, Amell."

"No one asked you, Kendells."

They had been caught by idiots. Maker above, it was like watching a pair of wolves fighting merely because. The air around them began to feel even worse, humid, just like the time before a storm. It took the girl a couple of moments to taste the touch of magic against her skin. Wild and untamed, very much unlike Sam's. Whenever he used it, it was analytical, a type of perfection she could only dream of. This was raw anger. If she unfocused her eyes, there was even small sparks on the other's skin. Idiots, very dangerous idiots.

"If I have to tell any of you to shut up and do your work one more time, I will have you all cleaning the gutters when we arrive to the compound. I expect better of anyone under my command." The leader's voice didn't rise above the calm toneless manner he had used earlier but nothing more was necessary. The second he finished speaking, the energy summoned by the blond mage faded into the air like a winter fog. He seemed apologetic. Ashamed, like a little boy caught in wrongdoings by a father, eyes to the ground and back to Sam's prone form.

Maker, in what viper nest she had been thrown into.

"I run a kindergarten," Loghain commented absently. Almost civilly, almost to her. "This will repeat itself, ignore it. In the meanwhile, gather your friend. We're leaving."

If he was waiting for a yes, sir, Kate would sooner swallow her dagger, blood and all.

"Let me help you," the mage offered. "You haven't tended to your wounds yet. Maybe on the way?"

"No." Nice, he was being nice. Amell. Kate attempted the sketch of a smile – a sadly failed attempt – and shook her head. "No. I'll carry him. I don't need help." Even if he was rather bulky, definitely uninjured and she was lying with every tooth in her mouth.

"But."

"Amell. Let her do what she wants."

The Commander's words sounded like a challenge.

Making sure to give him a rather dirty glance, the small woman shifted Sam's body carefully, directing his arms around her neck, his legs around her waist. It took a while. Even asleep, he muttered randomly, groaned every time she prodded with too much strength. Eventually though, he was on her back and Kate was standing on somewhat firm legs, eyes straight on the Commander's form. See? I can do it.

Loghain didn't seem inclined to give into her unspoken challenge. Instead he sheathed his sword – Maker above, who used swords those days by choice? – and gestured sharply to the group to follow.

"Try not to faint on the way, girl."

Kate took it as yet another challenge, shoulders straightening and arranging Sam's light form more comfortably. Hell if she'd allow them to see her faint. Or carry them. Fade would crash against the mortal world before she allowed that to happen.

She could swear the bastard's lips had turned in the closest approximation to a smirk.

xxxXXXxxx

Ferelden had changed much over the years if one knew where to look. The more important cities such as Denerim and Highever had thrived, grown to the point where it seemed they housed half the population of Ferelden within their borders. Small buildings had turned into sky-scrappers, farmlands into factories, pubs into clubs. It had evolved, for the better and the worst. The rest of the country varied. While Redcliffe was on its way to become the third capital, places like Rainesfere or West Hill were little more than production fields to feed the system. The reservations, those were confined to the south, Haven, Dragon's Peak and their vicinity especially. There was little one could build in a mountain that would remain productive.

While forcing herself to keep walking, it occurred to Kate that they had both been incredibly stupid to travel south. Haven's reservation was the greatest of the country and, if they had continued with their small plan to go north, they would walk right past it. Smart for people who wanted to avoid the place.

They had been moving for two hours, more or less. From the conversations fluttering around her, Kate learned that they had been following that particular group of darkspawn – whatever they were, since no one seemed inclined to explain – for days. The magic they had triggered by the cave had been sensed by the mage and the rest was a matter of following the obvious trail left behind on their escape. The creatures hadn't been exactly discreet and neither had they. All of this she heard without commenting, allowing them to weave their own theories about the two elves while making up her own puzzle.

It lacked two thirds of it, filled with holes her understanding couldn't fill.

"Let me down. I can walk." Sam's voice was mumbled in her ears and a balm to her frazzled nerves. Every now and then he would complain about how she should allow him to do something bar sleeping on her back but those words were, basically, in one ear, out the other. "Are they. Did we get away?"

"Ignore him." Amell walked beside them, staff in hand oddly opposed to the modern looking style of clothing they all wore. He had apparently nominated himself their companion, whether she wished it or not. She couldn't even stumble away because he would just correct his pace to catch up, always between the two and the brunt of the group. Maker knew why. "His mana's down, energy's down, too much blood loss. Wouldn't manage two steps forward. A shame I'm such a horrible healer, no?"

At least he had stopped trying to offer her assistance. Instead, his magic would flicker every now and then in a rejuvenation spell, particularly when her legs faltered and her knees threatened to break apart. Sam could be light after a diet of mainly elfroot and deep mushrooms but, after so long, Kate felt like he weighted a ton. It was pure pigheadedness that made her say no again and again.

The words filtered through her mind slowly, sluggishly as if her body was rejecting them until they finally settled. "His mana?" Heavens above, he knew.

The blond man studiously avoided the way she stopped in the track, her startled gaze akin to someone ready turn away and begin fleeing. He merely walked forward, staff beating against the floor in stable intervals by his side. "You don't need to worry," he said in all but a whisper. "Haven't told the Commander. You can choose when to tell him."

How about never? He was human. He was a human mundane and they were all the same. Leading them away, uncaring that she didn't want to be there, that she could have been left alone in the forest. Loghain hadn't so much as bothered to look at the two elves since the attack site.

"Come on," Amell persisted. "The compound's ten minutes away. There you'll be able to relax, get your strength back."

Her legs moved involuntarily at that. Which was great, she thought vaguely. They were being rebellious at the thought of a warm bed to pass out on. Warm? Even the cold floor of the cavern they had found just the day before would have been welcomed as the softest place to rest. "Before being shipped off to the nearest Reservation, you mean?" It took a great deal of strength to make those words less harsh than they should be.

He seemed confused at that, Kate noticed somewhat grumpily. What other conclusion would she think of? No one adopted random elves, especially not one who looked like the Fade had just swallowed her whole and then spat her out. This man couldn't be as naïve to think she would just accept them as good Samaritans.

"No, of course not. Didn't you hear the Commander?" Yes and it didn't mean the man had made any kind of sense. Amell gave her a look too akin to pity. "You'll be a sister, Maker willing. So will your friend. A Warden. Being locked up is the last thing you have to worry about."

They spoke of Wardens as if she should know what it meant. As if they were something she should be as acquainted with as with the earth beneath her feet. She was city-born, raised in alleys and aged on paths in what seemed all of Ferelden. The only Wardens she had known kept guard by the jails and the buildings of the rich. There was little way for her to trust those, even if the group looked little alike.

But Kate understood gratitude. It had been what first had bound her and Sam, the fleeing girl and the small mage. I watch your back, you watch mine. It was easy to see the Commander owned this man's, deep and unwavering. She wondered briefly what was the cost of his kindness bar the loyalty the mage displayed so easily.

"Is that why you follow him?"

"Yes. No. Probably." A small chuckle escaped him, fingers tapping away at the metal underneath his fingers. "Being a Warden's not exactly easy, miss. But I've been in the Circle. Anything's better than that place. And here, with the Commander? I can do some good instead of wondering when will be the day they'll decide I've outlived my usefulness as a living being and be made tranquil. I am sure your friend will agree with me. And so will you, you will see." A little too much hope in this man. He almost sounded like Sam. It was probably a mage thing. "Ah. There we go. The Compound."

The whole group stopped in unison, clattering loudly as the pieces of armor, everything they had removed from the Darkspawn was thrown to the ground with groans of relief.

What Amell called the Compound was hard to describe to someone who had never stood in front of it. At first, it seemed a jumbled mess of a museum thrown in between army barracks. Statues of Andraste littered the trails between the two, three story high buildings, old columns tossed in between kennels and cars, among armed men who walked back and forth with unknown destination. It was like someone had grabbed an old Tevinter city, surrounded it by stone walls and barbed wire before simply building upon it, without caring for logic and order. The only place which seemed to make sense was the sturdy metal gate that closed the space to outside visitors, a tall cement bunker by its side, ready to welcome whoever entered.

It was hard not to be impressed, if only by its senselessness.

"What in Andraste's name is this place?" Kate asked, staring with blatant confusion. "It seems so."

Amell stopped and leaned against his staff, looking every part a proud parent. "Odd, isn't it?" He commented lightly. "Thought the same when I got here. Wardens have something with not forgetting their history. Makes them awful external decorators but the library? To die for. But, if you would excuse me."

Kate didn't hear the last words or his form walking away. She just continued her appraisal of the odd contraption, checking out each wall, every artwork, the weapons scattered on the walls, the barbed wire outside the stone protections. Maker, everything was so weird to her eyes. A little like a prison, a lot like something out of a story or someone's drunk insane dream.

"Wardens, aren't they?"

A strong hand moved to clasp hers, pull it down so the burden on her back was lessened and then released. And then it was Sam shifting from her, slow breaths through his lips and a burrowed frown but eyes as alert as they hadn't been since he had first fallen. He wobbled in his place for a moment before using her hand to steady himself. Her relief gripped her heart and twisted until she felt again like taking hold of him and refuse to let go.

"So they say." Even her voice sounded a little choked, so ridiculous. "You know what they are?"

A shrug in reply. "A little. Solan left to join them, remember him?" A tall brunette, West Hills. "Preferred that to keep running around and supposedly they do accept anyone, even mages. What did they say to you?" Always analytical, completely impossible to understand when he ran ahead with his thoughts without bothering to remember she was standing right there while he rambled. Kate prodded his back before the fool forgot to explain in smaller words to someone whose mind wasn't nearly as sharp.

"Are they dangerous? And are we really discussing this while you're in that state?"

Brown eyes lowered to his form and then to hers, apparently evaluating their condition. "I look fine." He looked like shit warmed twice over. "Your shoulder needs treatment. But yes, we can continue." If the girl didn't adore him so much, she would have smacked him for that alone. Her body rebelled at that, laughter slipping through her lips at the pathetic joke, shifting so he could place his arm around her shoulders, support for him and comfort for her at the same time. "They can be," Sam replied, catching up to her question. "But more to Darkspawn than our kind. They usually don't care much about politics. Interesting little place."

He also understated things. A lot.

"I am not going to get a decent reply out of you, am I?"

And ignored her questions like few when he wished to distract her. It was nice. Felt like normality. Including the soft grin turning his lips, giving a little more color to his face. "Story time later, I promise. What did they say?"

"That you're conscripted, the both of you." The Commander had, apparently, the ability to show up out of nowhere with barely any warning. Only the fact that Sam was leaning on her and all but pinning her down stopped her from doing something incredibly stupid. Such as go for her absurd dagger; face to that sword of his, it would be pure suicide. Loghain appeared to know what she was thinking, if the tilt of his brow was anything to judge from. His face was sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead and neck, a hint of tiredness, nothing more. The group he lead had already dispersed, Amell disappearing in the vague direction of the gate.

"Right of Conscription." Sam stated slowly. "Thought the Wardens didn't use that anymore. That there were enough recruits anywhere in the south. Why are we here?"

To kill for him. To be tools. The words sounded just as blunt, just as cutting as when the man had first said them.

"Would you prefer the Circle?" The body against her shuddered like a hot iron had been pressed against his back. It was enough to simmer the ashes of her usual revulsion for his kind, to push Sam more securely against her. But Loghain's gaze fell on her next. Harsh as when first meeting them, barely hours before. "Or is it your friend? They wouldn't mind the addition of a primal mage. That is what one of you is. I would wager it isn't you, girl. Mages don't bother with blades."

A normal, regular human. They were all the same. Sam's weight stopped her from moving, from reacting but not from glaring like her displeasure could be fully conveyed that way, when a good strong punch against that raised chin would be far better. "I followed you here. That's as much trust as I'll place in you unless you stop with those threats. Want to throw us in the reservation, fine, do it." He was taller than her by a good while, she noticed, with a wider jaw, stronger features than an elven male. It reminded her of Denerim and that was never a good association. "Just don't hold the Circle above our heads like a coward."

"Tabris."

Soothing, Sam always soothed her, pushed her anger down but she didn't want it at that moment. She wanted this man to stop evading her questions, to stop thinking of them as things to be dragged around like everyone did. To stop staring down at her with that impassive face as if nothing she said was getting through.

"No. I want him to answer you. Why we are here. Not that nonsense about conscriptions and half-statements I'm supposed to get." It was stupid. It was very stupid of her to challenge this man, an unknown factor, a killer. But better dying than torture, better dying doing something than being dragged to the slaughterhouse. "Well. Say it."

It was more than Sam's weight pushing her down. It was the man's scrutiny, the way he didn't move while she shook under strain. He seemed immovable. Like a statue would. He would have been able to stand there much longer than she ever would.

"Wow, Loghain. Back making an impression, are we? Thought we were done scaring off the new recruits before the ominous looking ritual."

Which was why the new voice didn't alarm her.

"And you can both stop trying to kill the other with your eyes?" The voice continued. Male, young, her mind added a moment after. "Because, I'll let you in a little secret. It doesn't work."

Even though it did sound like it was mocking her. And him. Just for the second, Kate would let it go. The urge to pull those stupid braids was far more pressing, matching anger for his amusement. Because the Commander was amused. She just knew he was, like she was a bug caught in his hand, trying to wiggle between closed fingers.

"Ah. You found a stubborn one. Lovely. You know, boy, maybe you could do something about her since the Commander's acting like a five year old? Thank you."

The eyes left her line of vision as the man was tugged down by the new arrival and her head was pushed aside without permission by strong fingers. Sam. An unhappy Sam. "We fought darkspawn, Tabris."A very unpleased one. Sam never used her last name. Ever. "These people are supposed to fight them. Conscription means we're forced to join them. I'll explain the rest later. Enough?"

It wasn't a question. It was a command. Kate deflated quickly, feeling the disappointment all over his tone. She understood, of course, he was right. To challenge someone who had their lives on his hands, she shouldn't. But still.

"You didn't explain. Didn't you think explaining stuff to the possibly violent elves might have been a good idea? Randomly?"

An insolent tone, a joking grin, a handsome face. Those were the first things Kate noticed about the newly arrived human. He leaned against the Commander with all the grace of a drunkard, pulling and tugging on his arm. This was the one who had called them children? The irony wasn't exactly lost in her.

Loghain sighed – actually sighed – into one hand, pinching his nose like the man's presence was enough to give him a migraine. "Enough, Maric. Maker, enough. Just have Azar start the preparations for the Joining. Get these two into quarters. And stop insulting me in front of the recruits."

"Who else would if not me?" Blonde and happy, it was a wonder the Commander hadn't killed him yet. Kate and Sam exchanged looks and reached the same conclusion. Insane.

"My point exactly." The brown haired man shook the other's arm, rolling his eyes like he was dealing with a particularly annoying kid. "And don't hit on the new one just because she's an elf."

Was this the guy who had dragged them into the middle of nowhere after battling things out of her worst nightmares? It just didn't compute. The man – Maric – smiled at her of all people and winked, a little salute before beginning to walk down the path. And Loghain followed involuntarily, not even thinking of the ones he left behind.

"You speak as if I have some kind of fetish with ears."

"You do." Loghain's tone would have dried out the Amaranthine Sea.

"Bullshit," A hand moved to wave the statement away. "Haven't hit on Derym yet, have I?"

And again. "Derym's male."

They sounded vaguely like a comedy show.

There was the path before them and there was the path behind. Kate still had her backpack, still carried her dagger, poultices and leftover bandages that she could use to heal herself whenever they had the time. They didn't need to stay. She raised her head to the one above her shoulder, Sam's eyes steady on her, the same thoughts running over his mind. They were alone. They could leave.

"You know, if we run," she whispered. "We can still make it. They wouldn't chase us just for the reward."

"We could."

Her fingers tightened around his waist, tiredness making itself feel now that all distractions had been removed. "Those things are still around though. And the Circle. We might be sent to the Reservation too, if we don't find protection."

"We might."

So not being helpful. Sam was waiting for her to find the dots and connect them when he already knew the answer.

"I'm kind of tired of just running. Aren't you?"

Finally, Sam smiled, his previous irritation nowhere in sight. His lips rested against her temple, very lightly, and she felt his approval spread through her body like one of his spells. "Was waiting until you could say that," he said simply. "Come on. Let's get this going. Maybe it won't be so bad." There was a moment of pause, filled with the sounds of the forest, the wind and, faraway, the busy sounds of the Compound, the shouts of men and laughter, so much laughter. Sam was watching their destiny, not bothering to notice her. If he had, he would have seen the solid skepticism on her features. "And stop making that face."

"Will you stop being stupidly optimistic?"

"Now that would just make it impossible for you to say I told you so, wouldn't it?"

"…idiot."

Slowly, the two elves began their way down the hill, Kate carrying the impression her and the Commander had one single thing in common. A friend who was able to manipulate them effortlessly.

xxxXXXxxx

It had been a calculated gamble on his part. Slowly walking away, leaving the pair to decide whether to come or go on their own. He didn't doubt they would stay. There was too much at stake but still, the allure of freedom was always there. This would give them the option of picking their own prison, the illusion of a choice, nothing more. He waited though, uncomfortable due to the beginning of winter, feeling the pungent sign of the taint nearby which denounced new attacks soon enough.

"Are you sure they will come?" Loghain asked out loud without looking away from the two small figures.

The woman by his side didn't reply. Her smile was grating, smugly so, crossed arms over her chest, the same blue and grey uniform everyone inside those walls wore. However, unlike any of the other mages, the dark haired female disregarded any staff or blade, carrying herself like her body was all she needed to defend herself.

"I am always sure of what I say, Commander," she declared, a hand raised in the air, pointing exactly to the elven pair "It is a living beings' instinct. To survive. Give them a golden cage and they will choose it. Give them a way out of the trap and they won't question the wider nets around them. See? Already coming down. Such smart children."

And they were. Slowly, stumbling down the path as the girl's strength began fading into nothing, the mage struggling to walk and keep her standing at the same time. Tabris still seemed unsure. Surana was measuring but not completely untrusting. He reminded Loghain a little of the woman by his side only less dangerous. Someone who saw more than the immediately visible. No help was asked for, no complaint uttered as the elves dragged themselves forward.

It was done.

"We have arrived." Loghain didn't smile, didn't show any outward signal of being pleased. But he nodded in respect, moving to pass the card over the slot which would allow them entrance. "Be welcome to Ostagar."

"And you welcoming future Wardens into this place," Azar's low whisper reached his ears, the familiar touch of disgust she always inspired running down his spine. "Your son-in-law would have been so proud."

The look he gave her was of pure and undiluted hatred.

"Be silent, Azar."

The woman's responding laughter sounded joyous and dangerous in equal measure.

Author's note: I would just like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed the first chapter. Thank you for giving this story a chance. This is a slower chapter, I am aware but I will attempt to have it picking up on the next. Hope you liked it.