A/N: Thanks to Lilliwyn and Fruitboxen for their work!

Rose had done the right thing. There was no doubt about that. Even Shianni, after her ordeal, had made a point to commended her for taking all the blame. Why, then, did she feel so horrible about leaving all of them behind? The logical part of her said it was fear. The Arl would not let his son's death go- and as long as Rose was gone, following the path Duncan had given her, she could not protect them from the wrath of the human shem.

Then, there was sentiment. Rose had learned long ago that such feelings only got in the way- not that it helped her ignore them any. She filled her head with thoughts of other things, the strange man who she traveled with, techniques long-forsaken she must now relearn... She flexed her fingers, and the cold ring she'd taken from Nelaros only brought her thoughts back to the alienage once more.

"So, what do you look for in a mage recruit, exactly?" She asked the Warden-Commander. Rose had been making a point of giving him her silence, but right now anything was better than thinking.

The Warden-Commander glanced side-long at her, his steps never slowing or faltering on the stone of the Imperial Highway. "Skill and dedication," he answered.

Rose huffed. Well, that wasn't enigmatic. "Obviously. But haven't most of them grown up coddled or beaten down? How do you pick out the ones with any promise?"

"Background and age matters little to the darkspawn. A Warden must be willing to sacrifice everything," he said.

That wasn't what she'd been asking, but she let it go. "How long will we be at the tow-" Rose paused. Stupid, so so stupid. What was she thinking? The elf froze. "Er, how long will we be actually in the tower?" It had never occurred to her until that moment that she and Duncan would be inside the Tower. Surrounded by Templars. Watched. Caged.

"No more than three days," he supplied. "The First Enchanter indicated that the mage in question would be completing her Harrowing soon."

"The Harrowing?" Rose managed to forget her unease for a moment. Tevinter didn't have a test, really. As long as no one went on a rampage through the streets, the Imperial Chantry let well enough alone. The attitude towards magic was so different here. So different, in fact, that Rose had quite a shock adjusting to it. Going from Magisters who were feared and respected to helpless waifs locked in towers was not something she'd expected after her escape.

As closely as he had been watching her, he saw the sharpening of her focus, the almost intense interest she belied within those two words. Not quite the reaction he had been expecting. "Yes, it is the test by which apprentices become mages. Beyond that, I've little knowledge of what it entails and most of it is guess work."

It was clear that the Chantry had a much stronger hold here in Ferelden. The Templars of Tevinter were simply symbols, something to placate the 'White Divine'. Here, their authority was real. Their talents were meant to be used. She put all her focus into keeping her feet firmly on the ground. Words failed her. What excuse should she give him? If she went in there... Some said their senses were sharp, almost preternatural. She had no desire to test that rumor.

Duncan studied her for a long moment with a sideways look. "You fear them, then," he stated, stepping across a small pothole traffic had long since worn into the road.

"What?" she forced herself to follow him. Her feet felt heavy.

Duncan turned his gaze to the tower that loomed in the distance and almost sighed. Of course she would be afraid of them. "Mages are very useful to the Wardens, but hard to entice into our ranks. I understand that it is the way of the normal folk to be cautious of them, but I would ask that you at least be polite to the First Enchanter and his Senior staff as it was he who contacted me. It would appear ungrateful of the Wardens if one recruit antagonized another."

Rose would have laughed, if she dared. Of course he would think that. She opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself. Perhaps it was better he think her one of the shallow-minded fools who cowered under the threat of things unknown. "I was born in Tevinter," she said instead. "The Magisters don't exactly leave a stellar impression on those who serve them."

There was a pause in which Duncan simply looked at her. "Those born to Tevinter are not well known for their tolerance, either. You'll have to overcome the prejudices your birth country may or may not have instilled in you if you are to work well with the other Wardens in combat. We come from all walks of life, including Templar duties."

"Combat doesn't matter," Rose said sharply. "I can fight with whoever I have to. That doesn't mean that I'm eager to rush into a place where they look at you sideways for sneezing."

"Then why are you still here?"

She ran the words through her head twice, but they still didn't sink in. "What?" Oh, wasn't she sounding brilliant? But no matter how Rose tried to twist her mind around his question, it didn't make sense. She stopped in the middle of the road. The tower was very, very close now, looming above them.

"I need recruits that are willing to adapt to new situations. You are out of Denerim and everything you have said and done indicates that you are reluctant to be here at all. It would not be the first time that a Conscripted recruit has gone missing that I would not have pursued," he said carefully. Really, he did feel her skills would be valuable, but he didn't need someone with no will to commit.

"I don't understand. You would just... let me go?" she stammered, dumbfounded. Wasn't the point of Conscription that you couldn't get out of it?

"Do not misunderstand me, Rose. I believe you would be a very valuable edition to the Wardens, but I need those that are willing to fight without reserve and to dedicate everything they are to eradicating the darkspawn and the Archdemon. If you are unwilling, then yes, I am willing to settle for the Conscription of the mage," he said, features impassive as always.

This felt like a trap. It had to be one. Rose was reminded of her Master's poisonous smile, the one that she knew never to trust. No one just let someone go like that, not when there was something to be gained. She studied his expression. It couldn't be. He was serious. Rose glanced towards the sloping hills to the east. He might let her leave, but where would she go? Back to Denerim, to be executed? To Marethari's clan, assuming she wouldn't be killed on sight? So, it was a trick. Offer her freedom, a shining illusion. Should she have expected better from a shem? Rose could feel her features relaxing, adopting the veneer of calm that all smart slaves learned, eventually. "I have nowhere else to go," she said cooly. "And I keep my vows, Duncan. I know who the Wardens are. I know that I should be honored you conscripted me. I will serve the Wardens- but I will not be told what to believe."

He finally paused in his steps and turned his head to look straight at her. "I am not telling you to convert to the ways of the Maker or to even worship the old gods of the Elven. What I demand of all my recruits, human or otherwise, is obedience and the ability to fight together flawlessly where I command them to. If you are unable to do that, then you put all of their lives at risk and that is not something that I tolerate. No matter how skilled you seem, you are a single fighter and not worth the lives you would cost if you are unable to look beyond yourself."

"What am I to you, beyond a tool? A weapon?" She reflected dimly that she was suddenly standing on the opposite side of the discussion. Why by the Creators was she defending her right to stay with him? Was she mad? "I can fight. I can follow orders. I will. My beliefs have nothing to do with that. I have done many,many things I did not believe in, because I was ordered to. You have no need to suspect me on that front."

There was only the slightest of pauses before he said, "As a Warden, you will be expected to not antagonize your fellows past a certain point. Provoking them into drawing arms is strictly forbidden and holding grudges against someone based on background or age is not allowed. If you are unable to work with those here, I have every right to send you to another sect of Wardens where you would undergo rigourous retraining and integration into a new unit. I...do not prefer the methods of those abroad, but the only other choice would be death as it is damn near impossible to defect."

Rose's eyes narrowed. "Unlike some, I can keep my opinions to myself, Warden-Commander. I'm not running from a bunch of metal-clad men in skirts, or their charges."

He held her gaze, his dark eyes flinty. "In that case, if you are willing to stay put, then there is an Inn called the Spoiled Princess where I might purchase a room for three days and leave you there," he said.

Rose considered the offer, and decided that even if it was a challenge, she wasn't rising to it. "Fine. I'll be waiting there."

With a final, searching look, he turned from her and continued walking. There were no words left to say and nothing save time that would show who was right or wrong.

Cold wind biting at fragile skin, distorting vision. Green and grey, black and red pressing in. Howling screams, pleas. It burns and caresses, rips and heals. Heat stolen, life leeched, shackles slapped on, claws raked against face.

Light and sound muted. Held within the forever of nothing, protected and restrained. A promise once made, now forgotten. Stumble onto the battlefield, see the corpses of thousands. Friends, family, comrades, lover. Dead, all dead. Blood staining her hands, suppression of the tears. Force the transformation back. Magic flowing out bit by bit, human form returns to love.

Rina.

A brush against her. Ignored. Not important. Continue on with the burials. Sort through the limbs, try to reattach those that are recognized. Continue on, continue on, continue on until fingers bleed and magic dries.

Rina.

More insistent and forceful, the voice, his voice, shattered the Fade dream and she was left staring at her hands and the corpse of a demon. She blinked slowly, recalling what had happened. There had been a demon…and a mouse, and a Spirit of Valor. Mouse had been a demon of Pride. They had fought a demon of Rage together and he had…tried to convince her to let him possess her…she had refused and Mouse had…tried to…get away and she didn't let him go. A battle presented itself to her, as painful and fresh as the dream had been. Eyeing the corpse fading into the ground before her, she shook her head. Mouse hadn't been the brightest demon of Pride ever and he had been pathetically weak in comparison to some of the others she had seen across her cumulative time in the Fade.

The Fade. That thought jarred her out of her shock and she looked around. She was still in the Fade, still sitting in the battleground where her "harrowing" had taken place. Why the Mages of the tower thought such a test made them "mages" she would never understand. The people who possessed magic were mages by birth while those without it were not.

"Rina," a familiar, masculine voice said. She looked around, feeling a mixture of hope and despair. Jeremy stood five feet away from her, brown-haired and green-eyed as ever. Eyeing her, gaze wary, he took in her appearance. "You have an interesting way of gaining my attention," he said by way of impasse.

She surged to her feet and barely stopped herself from jumping into his arms and holding on until he was her only reality again. The Fade, she remembered, was all about desires and what could never be. The only thing that was real in the here and now that she could be sure of was only herself and her perception of what was. So if she had wanted to see him and he was part of the Fade now, perhaps it only made sense that she could have called him from the depths of Fade Sleep that his race entered upon their deaths.

"It…wasn't intentional," she managed to choke out, reaching for him. "Are…does this mean that I was wrong? That this was all just a nightmare?"

He took her hand and smiled sadly at her, shaking his head. "I know what you desire," he said softly. "I know how you wish to join us here as you could not that day when we died, but it isn't time. You still have a lifetime ahead of you to fall in love again and move past the memories of what was."

Frustration filled her. Memories of the battle, of the deaths, of the Lanashe they had fought so long ago broke the damn. "I don't want to move on, Jeremy," she said, taking a step closer. "I want the life that was supposed to be ours, the one that we discussed at camp and talked about in the quiet moments when our enemies weren't plotting to kill everyone we ever loved. How can I just give it all up and move past what was? We could…we could…still have that here in the Fade. We can shape it to our wills and…and…"

"I want that, more than you could ever know," he admitted, encircling her in his arms and tucking her head beneath his chin. "I wanted that life more than I wanted to free my race from the threat of the Lanashe, more than I even wanted freedom. The time we had was too brief, too short. I do want more…" his voice trailed off as he was caught up in thought. She looked up at him, hope beginning to spring in her chest. "…but that is a path that can never be. I died three years ago, Rina, and I cannot return to the realm of the living without a host." His arms tightened around her briefly and he stepped back. "Mortals only visit this plane for a short time. They are not meant to live here forever. To leave this place without a host would mean embracing the ways of a demon and I…"

Rina threw her arms around him again and pulled him to her, her lips crashing against his to silence the words, the painful truth. All she wanted, all she knew was contained within the space of heat and scent and arms tight around, but it wasn't hers, not the way she wanted it to be. She choked on the tears, feeling the familiar pull of reality, the fading of the lyrium. "Don't…just…don't," she whispered, breaking away a fraction. "I know all of that, but… I… can't stop loving you. I don't want to. You are my everything, even in death. I... I love you, Jeremy."

Pain flashed though his green eyes. He cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch. His lips parted as he drew breath to speak again, but a sea of darkness rolled over her, dissolving the Fade, pulling her back. She screamed, but it was swallowed by the blackness, lost as Jeremy was to her. Descending down and down to a body and a life she had ceased to want, she was sucked back into the confines of sleep and left there in the darkness and the loneliness of time.

Above her, a single mage fussed with her blankets and the pillow to make sure she was as comfortable as possible after the Harrowing. A hand passed over her cheek, a proud smile touching her lips. Another apprentice seen through the trials of learning, alive and fully in control of her powers. The mage departed, never seeing the tears that glistened in the candlelight.

Rina woke to the familiar sweeping pillars, vaulted ceiling, and barred windows of the dormitories that all female apprentices shared. It was a male's voice that tugged at her and brought her out of the haze that time in the Fade produced. Jeremy? But no…he had died three years ago. There was no leaving the Fade without a host once the physical body died; only demons did that…on purpose.

"...right? Say something, please," he said, carefully keeping out of arms reach.

She passed a hand over her face and sat up, stuffing the sheets in her other hand while she looked around at the other brightly robed apprentices and bunk beds that surrounded them. "Jowan?" she asked the young man before her, still eyeing him critically.

Relief flooded his face as she carefully swung her feet to the side of the bed and stood up, stumbling and a little off balance. "Oh, I'm glad you're alright," he said. He looked like he wanted to hug her, but knew better than to try and touch her. "They carried you in this morning. I didn't even realize that you had been gone at all. I've heard of apprentices who simply disappear and are never heard from again. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?"

A smile touched her lips at the puppy-like enthusiasm he was displaying. The Harrowing was almost the crowning jewel in every apprentice's life and to question a newly "harrowed" mage was a rare chance that they never passed up. It was, it seemed, her turn to be pestered with questions. "It was…harrowing. A test of abilities where you must prove your skill against a demon and temptation in the Fade."

He visibly paled at the idea of having to enter the Fade, but he nodded. "That…that makes sense," he said slowly, then crossed his arms in a sudden change of temper. "Hmf…well, now you get to move to the nice mage's quarters and I get to remain here. I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing."

Rina yawned and stretched her arms over her head, rising to her toes and rolling her shoulders to pop the knots out of her back. "They'll call you when you are ready and not a moment sooner. That is how it works with all apprentices," she said, dropping her hands to her sides again. Jowan's fits of temper and shyness had amused her from the first day they had brought her to the Tower and now was to be no different. "You know that Irving thinks of me as a 'protégé' and that that is why I was called before you to take their test. Don't worry, your time will come. Just wait a little longer."

Fear and uncertainty flashed across his face before he turned his head away. "I'm afraid that they do not wish to test me," he murmured. Then, in a louder voice he added, "But I didn't come to trouble you with my problems. Irving wishes to see you. You'd better not keep him waiting. We can speak later." His tone was nervous on the last word as he scurried away, causing her to frown after him for a long moment.

He was acting oddly, but there would be a later time to answer the riddle that he was suddenly presenting. For the moment, there was Irving to deal with and fake platitudes to give and accept for passing a test she had always known she would successfully complete.

On the way, she politely accepted the congratulations of the other apprentices and instructors and returned the scorn that she was plied with. She even managed to acquire a new staff, a necklace, a belt, and a new set of robes - all of which she would never admit to scavenging from the trunks of those that showed her more than scorn. If they were prideful enough to leave their stuff unlocked with only simple charms to look after it, then who was she to pass up finding a better use for their stuff?

Irving was in a meeting with the Knight Commander and another man when she approached his office. She hesitated outside the door, unsure if she should intrude or not. Greagoir and Irving she knew by their robes and the greying of their hair, but the third wore a set of armor that bore a different crest than that of the Templars. It was… familiar… like something she had seen in a book somewhere a long time ago. Say, before she had hunted down the last of the vampires… Ah! The old treaty between man and sentient Dragons. A Grey Warden.

A strange kind of warmth bloomed in her chest as she studied the man. Even with the Dragons gone, there was still a trace of them in those that took the oath to stand against the darkspawn. So long as the Grey Wardens stood, the memory of the race she had loved so dearly would never quite be lost.

"…have already committed enough of our own to the war effort," Greagoir was protesting, to which she repressed a snort.

"'Our own?'" Irving repeated with amusement and steel in his voice. "I was not aware that you had come to think of mages as kin. Or could it be that you are afraid to let mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?"

The Gray Warden met her gaze and blinked once, twice, then three times as he studied her. His head tilted a little as his eyebrows drew together. It was almost like he was trying to place her face and failing. Finally, he turned his head towards Irving and said, "Gentlemen, please." They fell silent under the slightly raised tone and turned to look at him. "Irving... someone... is here to see you," he continued, nodding at Rina.

She stepped forward, hands clasped before her. "You sent for me, First Enchanter?" she asked, raising her chin and sweeping the room with her eyes. Books upon books and a desk in a room decked with chantry decorations. How quaint… and like him. Her eyes returned again to the Gray Warden's gaze and the intense curiousity he seemed to be studying her with.

Irving's expression lit up upon seeing her and she could not help but notice the way that the Grey Warden's gaze shifted, as though now attempting to determining her value as a person and a fighter. "Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle. Come, child," Irving said genially. Her lips thinned and she did not move one step forward past her place beside the door.

Greagoir scowled at the turn of events, though he did nod marginally to her when she entered. "Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We'll discuss this later." The Knight-Commander gave a slight bow to Duncan before stiffly departing, the candle light catching and reflecting on the silver of his armor.

In the following moments, she was introduced to Duncan, Commander of the Grey, and received her staff, a new set of robes, and an enchanted medallion before she was shooed away with Duncan in tow. She glanced back in bemusement at her "charge" as she led him down the circular hallway. "If I didn't know better, I would say that this is a clever way of arranging a meeting for looking at a potential recruit," she said with a slight smile curving her lips. "The Tower is hardly the easiest place to get lost, especially for the seasoned warriors that Grey Wardens usually are."

Duncan smiled back in a half ironic sort of way. "You're very well informed for someone that has spent so much time in this isolated tower," he offered back and she laughed.

A slight smile touching her lips, Rina answered, "Not all of us have been caged here for the entirety of our lives. Some of us have even flown among legends." His eyes flashed curiously and her smile only turned to a grin before she stopped before a door and nodded at it. "As much as I have enjoyed this, this is your room and the point at which we part ways."

His gaze still trained on hers and with a bemused look playing across his own features, he said, "Good day. We shall meet again."

She tipped her head in acknowledgement of the meaning behind those words and he closed the door behind him. Turning, she was hardly surprised to catch sight of Jowan lurking nervously in the shadows. She casually walked away and caught his wrist, pulling him after her. "You need not follow me like this. It looks suspicious," she murmured. "I know that there is something bothering you and that you wish to discuss it with me. Lead me to somewhere a little more private and we shall have the discussion that is obviously eating at you."

She released him and he licked his lips, looking around nervously, before nodding. The private area turned out to be the Chapel standing in front of a Chantry Initiate, flickering candles, and a prayer dais. Rina could only rub her forehead in irritation. "Your definition of safe is very skewed, Jowan," she sighed, dropping her hand to her side and glancing between him and the initiate. "This is she, then?"

"Yes," Jowan said, looking at the younger woman fondly, a look that she returned with fervor. "Such relationships are…forbidden, as you know. Lily is promised to the Chantry and as such…relations…with men are expressly forbidden. So, we've had to be careful."

Reading the tension in both of them and seeing the nervous glances that Jowan threw towards the door on occasion, she cast her eyes to the vaulted ceiling and waited for a moment. Satisfied that there were no spells in place to overhear conversations such as the one they were about to have, she asked, "What else is there? Your relationship isn't the only thing at stake here."

Lily looked at the floor and clasped her hand behind her back, still not quite certain whether or not they could really trust the other mage. Jowan, on the other hand, blurted, "They're going to make me Tranquil. They'll take everything I am - my dreams, hopes, fears…"

He was bordering on hysterical as she said, "Stop -" but he didn't seem to hear her.

"…my love for Lily…"

"Jowan-"

"All gone!"

She took a step towards him and put a hand on his shoulder, gripping him in a less than friendly manner. "Stop and breathe. Collect yourself before you draw attention," she said gently when he looked at her with wild eyes. Glancing at Lily, she asked, "How certain are you that this is going to happen?"

Full lips thinned and a hard expression touched her features. "Absolutely certain. There are rumors of him being a blood mage and they are taking no chances."

Rina nodded. "What materials do we specifically need?" she asked, stepping back when Jowan had visibly collected himself.

They gaped at her in surprise and a smile curved her lips. "I have an idea of what you plan to do already but I need to know what materials I need to gather."

Lily blinked slowly and something settled in her eyes. "A rod of fire to mel -"

"That's all I need to know. I can get everything on my own. The two of you stay here, and drift apart after a few minutes. Don't speak while I am gone and do not glance at each other. That will only tell the Templars that we are up to something that we likely shouldn't be," she said firmly and they nodded before she took her leave of them.

An hour later, Rina returned with a rod of fire, another set of mage robes, an extra staff, a pair of daggers, and a variety of potions all neatly bundled under her arm in an old blanket. Jowan and Lily started towards her the moment that she entered the Chapel again, but returned to what they had been doing when she shook her head slightly and sat down in one of the pews. Lily bent her head in silent prayer before the dais and Jowan tried to focus on reading one of the books about the Chant of Light while standing in front of one of the bookshelves. Rina, for all intents and purposes, looked to be engaged in her own quiet prayer.

For twenty agonizing minutes, they remained as they were while several Templars passed through on their rounds and mages and apprentices floated in and out. One Templar engaged Rina in brief conversation to which she smiled and nodded before the young man left to complete his duties. Then, a distant boom sounded somewhere up on the third floor and everyone looked up, frowning into the resulting shower of dust. A commotion arose and most of the Templars hastily departed to take care of it while a few remained and herded the initiates and the mages from the second floor.

Rina sidled up alongside Lily, draped the mage robe across her shoulders, and shoved a hood into her hand. Then, just as quickly, she dropped away again. Lily bent her head and fixed the robes to cover her figure and covered her head with the hood. No one even looked at them twice as they flooded down the stairs with everyone else. The three mages met in the middle of the gaggle and simply vanished as they passed by the door that led into forbidden territory.

Irving was counting the apprentices again, a tired look settling over his features as he realized who was missing. He turned to Greagoir and, with a slight nod, the Knight-Commander was off to gather what Templars he could in the few minutes they had before Jowan escaped. He sighed and ran a hand through his silver hair. Two apprentices, a newly Harrowed mage, and an initiate- all missing. When had it come to this? This desperate bid for freedom among those that rightly should have kept their distance from each other? Nothing good could come of this.