A/N: At the end of 'The Years Between' I remarked upon frequently forgetting that Hawke was supposed to have a pet mabari. I did remember about Spot's existence when starting this story… but considering how this chapter panned out, maybe it would have been better for everyone involved if I had just forgotten all about the poor mutt. So yeah, my 'Hero' of Ferelden is at her charming best, and thus this chapter is rather dark and potentially upsetting.


Chapter 2

The Fortress of Andoral's Reach

"Hope you are ready for this, Hawke," Ser Cauthrien spoke, giving Riona an icy stare as they both stood in one of the several more intact halls at the ancient, decrepit Tevinter fortress of Andoral's Reach, waiting for the delegation of rebel mages to arrive and meet them. "Or do you require another reminder of what will happen should your attempts of diplomacy fail?" she added with a cruel smirk.

"No, thank you, I remember just fine," Riona replied, deciding not to rise to Cauthrien's biting, at least not now when she needed to retain her composure. And how could she not remember what was at stake? Nathaniel, the man who had done so much for her ever since her return to Ferelden, the man who she loved found himself behind the bars in Fort Drakon and Riona did not doubt for a moment that Queen Maythre would not hesitate to follow through on her threats and have Nathaniel killed should she fail in convincing the rebel mages to submit themselves to the ruler of Ferelden.

Still, Riona was not entirely certain of her chances at persuading the rebel mages, no matter how hard she tried. Even though Maythre tried to present herself as a friend of all the mages, advertising Ferelden as a place where mages could live free and without fear of persecution, the perception of the elven queen outside the borders of Ferelden was that of a controversial figure at least. For one, she had never publicly denounced the use of blood magic, and amidst the rumors that she actively practiced the forbidden arts, many mages found such attitude unacceptable, and thus viewed Ferelden almost as the second Tevinter Imperium. The cool reception they had received after arriving at Andoral's Reach also suggested that the talks would be difficult and the odds were stacked against them. The entire journey to the ancient fortress had been exceptionally trying, traversing the entire empire of Orlais, the country ravaged by unrest, and their small group was forced to constantly dodge the warring forces of different factions, now and then Cauthrien and her loyal Denerim Royal Guard dispatching some of the smaller patrols almost as if for sport, or as the general herself said, to keep their senses sharp.

Fortunately, Riona was spared from more largely unpleasant conversation with the general of Queen Maythre's armies, as the door on the opposite side of the hall opened and a group of eight mages entered, led by an elven woman, obviously Grand Enchanter Fiona herself. Riona had expected her to appear larger and more intimidating, but in truth she was a little on the short side even for an elf, one who had once been very attractive, but her comeliness had waned a little through the recent years of hardship, the look in Fiona's green eyes hard and filled with steely determination.

"Take seats, everyone," Fiona ordered unceremoniously, not bothering to approach Riona and Cauthrien for a greeting, the hall separated almost as if in two hostile territories by a massive table. "I'm sure you know who I am," she continued, sparing a brief look at Riona.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona," Riona nodded. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I'm sure," Fiona returned curtly. "With me are the remnants of the College of Enchanters." Riona smiled politely at the other men and women at the table, but only one or two returned her smile. "And you are, as I understand, the infamous Champion of Kirkwall, Riona Hawke. Some amongst us consider you a hero for what you enabled in Kirkwall... but equally many here will blame you for it."

"I was not the mage who blew up the Chantry," Riona replied, a little defensively. She hated being blamed for the actions of Anders; a mistake that was made often, just because of her status of the Champion, people automatically assumed that she was involved in everything that had happened in Kirkwall. Which was almost, but not entirely true.

"Yes, so I have heard, but the accounts of those events tend to vary wildly. In any case... I do not count myself amongst those who blame you for what happened in Kirkwall. My plan for mage independence was far less... explosive, but I never had the opportunity to implement it. Once Kirkwall happened, the only thing we could do was to capitalize upon it," Fiona explained, then narrowing her eyes at Riona again. "But dwelling on the past is pointless, what's done is done. Right now, I am more intrigued what the Champion of Kirkwall is doing here at Andoral's Reach, coming to bargain with us on behalf of the Queen of Ferelden."

"I have been living in Ferelden for a few years now," Riona replied. "It truly is a safe haven for mages. When Queen Maythre made me an offer to become her representative and come here to offer you refuge in Ferelden, I saw it as an opportunity to help my fellow mages."

"Yes... I'm sure it sounds very tempting," Fiona did not appear very impressed. "Surely you do not expect us to believe that your benevolent queen will simply offer us protection without asking anything in return."

"That is how she has treated every mage seeking refuge in Ferelden," Riona answered. So far the lies were coming easily enough, though it did not seem as if Fiona and the other enchanters were swayed by her words.

"Until now," Fiona remarked. "Understand, Hawke... we are not completely without eyes in Ferelden. Even as we are cooped up here at the edge of nowhere, our ravens travel far to every corner of the world. Be careful of what you say, Champion. It would not do you any credit to be caught in a lie."

Riona felt cold sweat running down her spine at Fiona's warning, her mouth going dry and she hoped that nobody would pick up on her nervousness. "I understand, but I have said nothing but the truth so far," she replied defensively. "Why would I lie to you?"

"There could be a number of explanations for it," Fiona shrugged. "Queen Maythre is a known practitioner of blood magic. You could be under the sway of her mind control spells without even knowing it."

"I'm sure there is a way for you to detect the presence of blood magic, so you would know that this is not true," Hawke protested.

"Yes... but there could be other ways in which she has coerced you to cooperate and help advance her goals," Fiona pointed out. Her eyes drifted over to the grim Ser Cauthrien sitting next to Riona. "For some reason, I have developed an impression that you are not here through your own free will. This woman, and the elite guard she commands, are known to us, and her reputation is even darker than that of the queen she serves."

"Your accusations are as laughable as they are inaccurate," Cauthrien barged into the discussion, snapping at Fiona angrily. "Hawke is a free woman. She can rise from this table and leave at any moment, if she chooses to do so."

"Perhaps then you should do it, Hawke," Fiona smiled coldly, turning her stare back at Riona. "If you truly wish to help your kin, stay with us here, Hawke. You would make the perfect ally, a voice of reason who could prove instrumental in arranging peace treaty with the templars."

"I... am humbled by your offer, but..." Riona began, with the corner of her eye noticing the unspoken warning in Cauthrien's stare. "Ferelden is my home now, and I must return to Denerim. I was hoping that the mage rebellion would follow me and also find their home in Ferelden."

"Yes... so you have said," Fiona remarked thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin. "I can see that you are a woman of great integrity and honor. There are almost a thousand mages under my responsibility here, and more arrive every day. I do not think you would be able to live with yourself if your lies got them enslaved by this blood mage queen. Can you truly promise me that my charges will be free to live as they wish, should we agree to your proposal and follow you to Ferelden? We have many reports of mages taken from the streets of Denerim and other cities by forces loyal to this woman," she nodded at Cauthrien again. "They disappear without trace, never to be heard from again. Some of them had dared to speak out against the queen prior to their disappearance. So I ask you again… can you truly guarantee our freedom?"

Riona fell silent following the Grand Enchanter's words. Of course, she knew what Maythre intended to do with the rebel mages should she succeed at bringing them to Ferelden. They would be forced to serve in the queen's army that she prepared to unleash upon Orlais, once Celene and Gaspard had sufficiently weakened each other. Perhaps some of the uncooperative ones, like Fiona herself, would disappear without a trace, but Riona truly did not know what fate befell them, though she suspected it was nothing pleasant. The rebel mages were hoping for lasting peace, but if Riona were successful, she would condemn them to fighting another war, this time not even for their own freedom, but for a power hungry madwoman who was trying to carve out an empire that would rival Tevinter. Thousand lives of her fellow mages ruined... all just to save one, simply because that one meant so much for to. Could she do it? Did she have any right to sacrifice so many to save one?

Of course... speaking the truth would save the mages, but condemn Nathaniel to a painful death. Unless... unless I could convince the queen to let Nathaniel go and punish me instead? Yes... that is the only outcome I could live with. I thought I would be able to deceive the rebel mages, but... no, I can't do it. They have been through too much to suffer another betrayal, this time by a fellow mage.

Riona let out a deep sigh as she opened her mouth to reply. "No, I can't truly guarantee your freedom, Grand Enchanter," she admitted, ignoring the menacing stare Cauthrien sent her. "I can't promise that you will be able to live your lives as you please if you come with me to Ferelden."

"Thank you for your honesty, Hawke," Fiona smiled at her, warmly for the first time since their introduction. "I will let you in on a secret that even you might not be aware of. There is an ugly rumor circulating in Ferelden and it concerns the mages who disappear from the streets never to be seen again. There is talk of them being put through the Rite of Tranquility at the queen's behest."

"That… that can't be right..." Riona whispered, stealing a quick glance at Cauthrien and with shock noticing that the usually stoic woman had gone deathly pale, white as chalk, nervous twitch seizing her face before she finally managed to reassert her self-control.

"Are you certain that this is impossible, or are you simply reacting with surprise?" Fiona looked at her kindly. "Look into your heart, consider what you know of Queen Maythre, and then answer me... can you imagine her doing something like this to her rivals?"

"I..." Riona hesitated a little before answering, and then lowering her head as she gave the only answer she could. "Yes... I suppose I can see that. She can be ruthless to those who dare to deny her."

"As I thought," Fiona nodded. "Allow me to once again extend an invitation for you to remain here with us. Surely you would be safer with your own kin than with that blood mage usurper."

"There is no safety within these walls and you know it," Cauthrien sprang into the discussion, sensing that Hawke had been defeated by her conscience. "Cling on to the illusion of invulnerability if you must, but know that the templars are already on their way, and once they arrive you will not be able to hold this decrepit fortress! You desperate lot have no other refuge to find than with Queen Maythre in Ferelden!"

"Ah... but the templars are no longer marching this way, Ser Cauthrien," Fiona remarked smugly. "You see, things have changed, and we are no longer a desperate lot. Perhaps if you had arrived a month ago, when we truly were at our wit's ends, we would have agreed to your offer. But now... the circumstances have changed, and there is once again hope for lasting peace. You have come too late, Ser Cauthrien. This alliance is no longer in our best interests, and so, unless Hawke has changed her mind about staying, consider yourselves dismissed."

"I'm afraid I will have to decline, Grand Enchanter," Riona smiled politely.

"Too bad," Fiona shrugged, rising from the table, the silent group of enchanters following her. "You have a quarter of an hour to remove yourselves from the premises of our fortress. Do not overstay your welcome, or else you will be evicted by force."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Grand Enchanter," Cauthrien replied coldly, her gauntleted hand seizing Riona's elbow, the armored digits crushing it painfully, almost making Hawke cry out in pain. "We would not want to stay here longer than necessary. No, we must hurry back to Denerim... there's a most entertaining execution that we must attend, isn't there, Hawke?"

Riona did not answer, merely numbly staring ahead as Cauthrien pulled her up to her feet and then proceeded to drag her out of the hall and the fortress of Andoral's Reach.


Royal Palace, Denerim

To say that Queen Maythre of Ferelden was livid once she had learned about Hawke's diplomatic failure would be like saying nothing at all. The beautiful elven mage was pacing back and forth in her favorite study at the palace's western wing, a thunderous look on her face that radiated not only anger, but also nervousness. "Did you perchance misunderstood the consequences of your failure?" she asked sharply, glaring at both Cauthrien and Hawke after the general had finished her report.

"It was Hawke's fault," Cauthrien replied, giving Riona a venomous look. "She did nothing to disparage the rebels speaking ill of Your Majesty. In fact, she went as far as to corroborate certain ugly rumors. It was no wonder that Fiona turned down our offer of hospitality, even despite my attempts to salvage the talks."

"She did say that they had a new plan to make peace with the templars," Riona spoke up quietly. "They would not have come to Ferelden no matter what I said."

"Silence!" Maythre shouted, staring Riona down, Hawke wisely deciding to keep quiet. "I am not interested in hearing excuses! I warned you what would happen should you fail, and I am not someone who goes back on a given word. Tomorrow morning you will watch Nathaniel Howe perish on the breaking wheel at Fort Drakon, and you will know that it was you who caused his suffering and death."

Riona finally lost her composure, falling to her knees in front of the queen. "Please... I beg you, Nathaniel is an innocent victim in all of this," she pleaded. "Torture me, kill me if you must, but leave him out of this!"

"Hmm… are you willing to endure suffering in his stead?" Maythre stared hard, hands on her hips, until she received a tearful nod from Riona. "What do you think, Cauthrien?" she asked, turning towards her general.

"I think she deserves this punishment more than the Howe whelp does," Cauthrien replied coldly. "Her lips are too loose and mouth too quick for its own good. Kill her or toss her in Drakon afterwards, I care not, as long as she is out of the way."

"Very well, in that case I shall accommodate both of your wishes, although after such spectacular failure, I probably should not," Maythre somehow managed to appear magnanimous when speaking those words. "Take Hawke to the courtyard and place her in the stocks. Gather the entire palace staff and the guards… good flogging requires spectators, wouldn't you say?" the queen grinned broadly. "And don't forget to bring the new cat o' nine tails, Cauthrien."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Cauthrien replied, looking pleased as she roughly dragged Hawke up to her feet and then pushed her out of the queen's study before ushering her down the stairs and into the courtyard.

It didn't take more than half an hour for a small crowd to gather around the little square in the palace courtyard where Hawke stood rigidly immobilized in the stocks. Maythre and Cauthrien stood nearby, the queen herself holding the whip, intending to carry out the punishment, something she did only on special occasions. "Bare her back, Cauthrien," the queen ordered, nodding at the general. "I would not wish to ruin those beautifully crafted robes of hers. We are not some kind of savages, are we?"

Cauthrien responded immediately, undoing the straps on the back of Riona's robe and pulling it down to her midriff, but at least leaving Riona in her smallclothes and allowing her to retain some sense of dignity, not that much would be left of it once the queen began to work the whip. Shortly afterwards, the first lash fell, painful beyond description, even if Maythre was not physically strong and could not crack the whip as masterfully as an experienced torturer. Riona suffered the first five or six lashes before crying out, but that was before the whip had managed to pierce the skin, creating the first bloody lacerations. Once the lashes began to fall where the skin was already cut, Riona could not stop herself from screaming. Even if she tried to avoid giving the queen this satisfaction, there was no way she could endure the agonizing pain, especially when after the tenth lash the queen became exhausted and passed the whip over to Cauthrien, urging her to continue.

That was when the fun truly began. The lashes came fast and furious now, raining upon her ruined, bleeding back in an almost never-ending stream, Riona's cries turning into delirious screams, Hawke trashing helplessly in the stocks, unable to escape the terrible ordeal, the pain of which was slowly bringing her to the brink of unconsciousness. Cauthrien was down to thirty lashes and Hawke's back had turned into a massive, raw wound, when the brutal punishment was interrupted by furious barking, a massive mabari hound suddenly bursting through the ranks of the spectators, savagely mutilating the arm of a brave but stupid guard who tried to stop the enraged beast. Spot, Riona's loyal mabari, arrived at the scene and leapt towards Cauthrien, the woman dodging at the last moment, lashing out with her whip that wrapped around Spot's hind legs and forced the mabari to topple on the dusty gravel of the courtyard, but it did not slow the maddened animal down, getting back on its feet quickly and starting to circle Cauthrien, glaring menacingly at the one who had dared to hurt his mistress.

"My sword, throw me my sword," Cauthrien ordered, one of the guardsmen tossing the massive Summer Sword towards her and she caught it deftly, releasing the whip as she prepared to eviscerate the angry mabari, ready to leap at her.

"I forbid you to kill the animal!" came the queen's voice, Cauthrien looking at Maythre with surprise, nearly paying for it with her life as Spot launched himself at her again, the general just barely managing to evade the snap of the mabari's jaws. "Capture it, I want the beast alive and unharmed!" the queen ordered, glaring imperiously when her otherwise loyal Royal Guard hesitated to apprehend the growling mabari.

"What are you waiting for?" Cauthrien yelled to her soldiers. "You have your orders! Obey them!"

After several minutes of bloody struggle that saw one guardsman sprawled in the gravel with his throat ripped open and another quickly bleeding to her death after Spot had tore open the guardswoman's thigh, severing some of the major blood vessels, the furious beast was finally pacified, three guards sitting on top of the defeated mabari while two others tied his legs together before carefully muzzling the animal, making sure not to lose any fingers in the process. Once the mabari had been secured, the queen gave Cauthrien a questioning stare. "How is Hawke doing, is she still conscious?" she asked.

Cauthrien walked around the stocks and unceremoniously lifted Hawke's head to make sure, Riona summoning her last ounce of strength and spitting a clot of saliva and blood in Cauthrien's face, having bitten her tongue from the insufferable pain. "You'll regret this," Cauthrien swore, walking away to pick up the whip.

"If I'm not mistaken, you got as far as thirty-two," Maythre remarked coolly. "While I'm sure that you would like to continue past forty, we will stop there. I have something else in mind that will serve as a fitting punishment for our friend... having observed the loyalty and bravery displayed by this mabari has given me a most intriguing idea."

"Don't hurt my dog..." Riona tried to exclaim with all her fading strength. "Don't you dare... hurt my Spot..."

"I am not going to hurt him, my dear Hawke," Maythre replied smugly. "But once I am done, your brave Spot will no longer be your dog. He will be my loyal mabari guardian."

"What? No! You... you can't do this!" Riona protested, struggling violently in the stocks.

"I have no wish to listen to your feeble protests, Hawke," the elven queen smirked. "Cauthrien? You may proceed."

"With pleasure," Cauthrien nodded. The final eight slashes were delivered with ferocious strength, Riona screaming in pain until she mercifully passed out, the ground surrounding the stocks glistening red with droplets of her blood.

Hawke was still hanging limply, suspended in the stocks, as Maythre approached her, hands igniting with a carefully controlled flashfire spell which she directed at Riona's back, cauterizing the raw, bleeding flesh, in the process creating scars that would never completely fade. Fortunately for her, Hawke had lost consciousness some time earlier and did not feel the excruciating pain of her back being set on fire. "Take her away," Maythre ordered, stepping away from the stocks. "Throw her in the deepest pits of Drakon until further notice."

The Royal Guard reacted more swiftly this time, removing Riona's limp body from the stocks and unceremoniously carrying her away, others ordering the palace staff to disperse, only a small regiment of soldiers together with Maythre remaining as she sat down in the gravel next to the bound mabari, petting the animal's coarse fur in a way that appeared gentle, but Spot must have sensed that the regal looking woman did not have noble intentions, for the frightened animal was whimpering and trying to withdraw but to no avail.

"Don't worry, gentle beast, this won't hurt a bit," Maythre smiled, swiftly producing a small dagger and making a shallow incision in her palm, the blood starting to flow as she began to concentrate and draw upon her mastery of blood magic, reaching out to seek the mabari's simple mind, her will wrapping around it like suffocating tendrils, creating a spider web of corruptive influence. She was surprised to discover that Hawke apparently didn't even know proper imprinting spells to bind a mabari, making the task of rewriting the beast's ownership even simpler.

Still, the beast had developed a surprising amount of loyalty towards his mistress even without proper imprinting, and Maythre now used the power of her blood magic to crush the beast's simple mind, to corrupt and erase the feelings he harbored towards his previous mistress. The ruthless blood mage would not allow anything to distract her in this task, not even the heartbreaking reaction of the frightened creature, struggling to crawl away from his would-be owner, whining and whimpering as Maythre picked apart the mabari's mind, the suffering beast eventually abandoning his resistance, the fear and mental violation causing Spot to lose control of his bladder and urinate uncontrollably on the queen's white dress, but she did not allow even such unpleasantness to make her pause, not stopping until Spot's mind was wiped and reset back to a clean slate, ready for new imprinting. It did not take her more than a minute to finish the relatively simple process of binding the animal's broken will to her and complete the successful reprinting.

"Untie the beast," the queen spoke, stoically stepping away once she was done, wiping her bloody palm on her white dress and ignoring that the lower part of it was soaking wet with mabari piss.

"Are you sure it is wise, my queen?" Cauthrien asked cautiously, but then complied immediately having noticed that the mabari now looked completely pacified, lying limp and apathetic. Once she had untangled the rope that was binding its paws and removed the muzzle, the mabari slowly got up to his feet and somewhat fearfully approached Maythre before dropping down at her feet, rolling over on his back and presenting his exposed belly in a sign of complete and utter submission.

"That's a good boy... aren't you, oh yes, you are... and unlike some in my service, he knows his place," Maythre chuckled victoriously as she bent down to rub the beast's belly with what almost looked like genuine affection on her face. "Now only the final task remains," the queen finished with a hearty laugh. "And that is to select a new name. 'Spot' just simply will not do for the royal mabari of the Queen of Ferelden!"


Her Majesty Queen Maythre slipped out of the massive royal bed and casually threw a loose robe over her slowly cooling alabaster white skin, still slightly damp with perspiration. She stole a quick glance back at the bed, but Cauthrien hadn't moved, fast asleep following their session of lovemaking. Most of the time, Maythre ordered her trusted general to return to her own chambers following those rare occasions on which she felt compelled to experience pleasures of the flesh, but this time, the usually stoic queen had actually insisted on Cauthrien staying after she had fulfilled her duty and satisfied the needs of her queen.

It was... difficult to admit to herself, but Maythre felt deeply worried, needing the comforting embrace of the only one in Thedas that she could trust. Not that Cauthrien's presence would have mattered much if the one whose ire she had invoked would come to punish her. Flemeth. Mother. I have failed in the task she set before me, and now she will surely deliver on her threats to possess my body and take it for her own.

Maythre did not even know why Flemeth had tasked her to wage war on Orlais, to look for an opportune moment during the civil war and to strike hard, she could not imagine her mother having a particular grudge towards an entire country, but Flemeth's motivations were always a puzzle to everyone. What mattered, though, was that her only chance to successfully strike at the Orlesians was through the alliance with the rebel mages, and Hawke's failure had doomed all her preparations for war. And now my mother will come to possess me, to devour my spirit, all through the failure of that fool woman! I have gone through so much to rid myself from the darkspawn taint, to extend my lifespan to that of the ancient elves from legends, and yet it will be all for naught if Flemeth simply... devours me. It is not fair... not fair!

Oh, she had not meant to punish Hawke as harshly as she had done, and by now Maythre was already having seconds thoughts about the cruelty of her actions, but the regret did not linger for too long. She was fully entitled to feel angry because Hawke had very likely ensured her death at the hands of Flemeth. Certainly, through her recent actions she had made a lifelong enemy in Hawke, but that all was irrelevant now. Flemeth would come soon, and neither she nor Cauthrien could do anything to protect the queen from her mother's wrath.

If only I had some means to crawl back into the world of living like my mother does! What good is my extended lifespan if someone more powerful can still destroy me at will! The queen thought with frustration, an idea suddenly popping in her head, making her eyes snap wide with realization. Maybe... maybe there is a way! Perhaps I can learn mother's tricks! The grimoire... I made a copy of it before handing it to Morrigan, and it is still somewhere amongst my belongings. Perhaps I can find a key to Flemeth's secrets in the grimoire! I know it described several curious elven artifacts... perhaps one of them might serve as a key to anchor my spirit to the material world? I have many mages at my disposal, I can send them to every elven ruin known to man and have them try and dig up these artifacts for me. If Flemeth thinks I am simply going to sit and wait for her to come and devour me, then she is gravely mistaken. I do not intend to leave this mortal life without a good amount of kicking and screaming...


Fort Drakon, Denerim

Deep in the bowels of the imposing prison of Fort Drakon, its latest inhabitant rested on her side in the uncomfortable bunk of her solitary cell, Riona Hawke gently probing the still painful, barely healed skin on her badly scarred back, bitter tears running down her cheeks as for the first time in her life she felt utterly and completely helpless, abandoned and alone with her grim, depressing thoughts.

Riona thought of Spot, her loyal mabari friend, precious gift as a little puppy from Varric, her old love, the poor dog now brainwashed and forced to serve the bitch queen that had dared to usurp the throne of Ferelden.

Riona thought of Nathaniel, the man she loved, the man who had done so much for her, but had suffered imprisonment simply for associating with her, locked up somewhere nearby in the same prison, but of course their cruel captors would never allow them to see each other no matter how much Riona would beg them.

Riona thought of Bethany, her beloved sister of whom she had heard no news for several years, but she had spent her days with a deeply rooted belief that she and her gentle, caring sibling would one day be reunited again. As grim as her current situation was, this belief refused to abandon her completely, and it was perhaps the only thing that made her cling on to hope and sanity.

Most of all, however, Riona dreamed of one day wrapping her hands around the pristine neck of Queen Maythre and squeezing down hard, savoring the gurgles of the hated elven mage until life left her wretched frame. As time went by, all other thoughts slowly began to wane while this particular fantasy grew in strength, slowly consuming her with a singular purpose... revenge for what had been done to her.