Title: Snow and Ice

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Sexual content, minor language, violence, blood, use of alcohol

Summary: Once upon a time, a maleficar had stopped the blight. Afterwards, she'd left for the colder North, leaving love for a life of loneliness and wandering. No one was to look for her. So why was Alistair calling her back? Zev/Surana

Author's Note: And we are back to where we began. Thank you for reading. Review, please.

\When all you love is on the line

Your spirit's bleeding

Incomplete and blamed for immorality

(Blasphemy)

So you're breaking with tradition

In this godforsaken land...

-Blasphemy, Cinema Bizarre

Chapter 3

The pain was unreal. As if she'd just been thrown into lava, heat exploded across the white expanse of her skin. It was as if her bones were being charred, flesh dripping like hot plastic onto the floor. She had never made a deal with such a powerful demon. The difference of power was astonishing. The tattoos on its arms reared up like snakes ready to attack. In a way, they did attack. Each one latched onto her flesh and crawled across her own arms, wriggling until they crossed into the same pattern. Many of the tattoos she'd gotten came from deals with demons. Newer, these were a light blue, practically glowing with magic and energy. Even as the demon retracted its hand, she fell forward on her hands and knees, dizzy and nauseous from the sheer experience.

"Gah," she groaned, unsteadily getting to her feet.

"Ssstrange," it hissed, staring at its hand, which shifted in and out of form. "You are...more powerful than I would have thought."

"I," she gasped, "could say the same." Then she noticed its shape.

The creature seemed confused, the bubbling, white-hot substance that made up the being did not seem to know what to do. Collapsing in on itself over and over, the demon couldn't quite maintain the same humanoid form. "What are you?" it asked.

"An elf, nothing more," she replied simply.

"An elf..." it echoed. "You are more demon than human. I can sssee it in your eyesss, creature. Truly, a force to be reckoned with."

"I shall take that as a compliment," she muttered while dusting off her robes. Truly, the inn was filthy. Glancing up, she saw that it was waiting patiently. But for what? To be let go? "Since we have a business arrangement, perhaps you could tell me your name...?"

"Ikilai," it inclined its head in a bow. "Four thhhousand yearsss old and yet ssstill captivated by the beauty of a mortal."

She laughed. "Your power is enticing, Ikilai. And your form is...rather spectacular, actually. Unique."

The white, glowing substance stopped shifting at once. Instead, it stretched into the silhouette of a human man, slightly taller than Elda herself. Details began to form as if drawn from some unknown source. Deep blue eyes and a handsome face appeared from the liquid mass. White hair, slicked back, grew from the top of its head. Finely chiseled, Ikilai was very beautiful. Again the demons whispered in her ear. They called for her to join them, for her to join Ikilai, but she was stronger than they knew and resisted easily. Jowan had taught her one important thing in her life. Never answer the demons' calls.

Ikilai bowed. "I am ancient, my lady. It hasss taken ssso long to achieve thisss form." In his new form, when he spoke, a thousand voices all in different pitches echoed the words. Daring blue eyes stared at her hands. The tiny scars all over them often brought attention. She wondered faintly where her gloves were. "Jussst how long have you evaded usss?" he hissed.

"Wha-?" she began, but a knock on the door silenced her. Whipping around to face it, she forgot momentarily how close she was to the demon's pentagram and prison. Ikilai's hand darted out and grabbed hers. He yanked her into the pentagram, catching her as she stumbled.

"Beautiful," he murmured before placing his lips on hers in a searing kiss that had her gasping in both pain and pleasure. His hand, tangible yet seeming to sweep right through her, came to rest on the small of her back. The other grabbed the back of her neck and forced her against him. Wherever he touched was both hot and cold, both painful and satisfying. She found herself moaning against his white-hot mouth and wanting more, but at the same time know that Ikilai was a demon and stealing her essence at that very moment. But she couldn't pull away. She pressed her tiny hands against his chest and felt him pull her closer. She was feeling weaker and weaker. Everything was getting dark. Then he let go, and she fell.

She tumbled down onto the sand, molten at that point and felt it sizzle the flesh of her left hand. Scrambling away in pain, biting down on her lip until she drew blood just trying not to scream, she saw him smile with that handsome mouth of his. His eyes twinkled. She blinked, and Ikilai's entire body disappeared in a puff of smoke. It was all over in a matter of seconds. The hand that was not burned darted to her lips. She felt his molten kiss there still.

"No...you son of a bitch..." The demon had stolen her essence but left her alive. He could find her anywhere. She was bonded to him in ways that a mortal shouldn't be bonded to a demon.

"Miss...?" another knock at the door. "Are you all right in there?"

Pulsating with pain, the hand was practically boiled. It would require healing magic. She'd need her staff, though. "Hold on, please!" she shouted at the door. Leaping to her feet, she grabbed the broom with one hand and swept the sand—it was miraculously sand and not boiling lava any longer—beneath the bed. Closing all of her books before stuffing them into her pack and hiding her mutilated hand behind her back, she opened the door.

The human woman raised an eyebrow and tried to peer around the door. "I thought I heard voices."

Elda smiled. "Yes, I was reading my daughter a book. She seems to have fallen asleep in the middle, though."

"But I heard a man's—"

"Please, Miss, keep your voice down. My daughter is trying to sleep," the maleficar interrupted, casting a glance at the sleeping body of her child. She opened the door just enough for the woman to get a peak inside of the room before turning to face the tavern woman again.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry. Shouldn't have interrupted. Would you like me to bring you anything?" After seeing Rinna, the tavern lady was quite repentant. She asked over and over if Elda would like anything, but all the mage wanted was a chance to clean her hand and bandage it. She could feel it swell and stiffen behind her back. The scent of burn flesh had her stomach rolling with nausea. If it hadn't been hers, she might not have been so bothered by it.

When she finally managed to shoo the woman away, she turned around and held the hand up in the light to see. Blisters popped up on the skin. It was an angry red color. Elda sighed and began to rummage through her pack for a lyrium potion. She would need energy to save the hand.

"Your Highness, we've just received word of the templars you sent after Elda Surana," the soldier said. Alistair perked up at once, straightening his spine. He raised his hand and the man rose.

"What is it? Is she coming?"

"Ser, we've conducted a thorough search and requested the Dalish help. We found the bodies seventy miles from the town of Halisk. They've all been killed," he reported.

Wynne gasped. Alistair jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over the boy polishing his shoes. He apologized quickly to the boy and sent him away. Walking down the steps, he asked, "You're sure? Maker, how did they die?"

"Brutally, ser. Gutted, all of them. A few of them were missing their spines. Also, each and every one was drained of blood. Wolves had come for the corpses by the time we got there, but as far as we can tell, they were mutilated before the scavengers began eating." His face was green as he spoke. Clearly it had been gruesome.

"But who killed them? Surely not Elda," Alistair said, perplexed.

"We are...unsure. They could certainly have been killed by magic. There was a man smashed to a hundred pieces, your Highness. But it would require a knife to butcher those men. And a blood mage to use the blood to her favor," he said slowly.

"No!" Alistair denied. "She is not a blood mage. I'm a templar, too, and I would have sensed it. Besides, she didn't have time to call up demons while we were on the road. And Irving wouldn't have let her become a mage if she had a tendency towards blood magic."

Wynne, quiet until that moment, spoke, "There are always a few that slip through. But...I wouldn't have believed it either. She helped so many."

"I apologize, ser," the soldier said quickly. "I didn't mean to insinuate anything."

"No," Alistair sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe someone else found them. Keepers use magic. The Dalish are abundant in that area."

"And there are other apostates," Wynne offered.

"Yes, ser," the soldier admitted. "But we found something else in the snow." He dug from his pocket a chip off of a silvery staff and the wadded up letter he'd sent her, covered in blood.

"Maker, she couldn't have," Alistair muttered, reaching for it. "Why would she kill these men? There's no sense to it."

Wynne put a hand on his arm. "She is a mage, Alistair. Elda always hated the templars at the tower. All the apprentices did."

"No," he said again. "What about Cullen? Cullen was friends with her."

Wynne sighed. "Cullen was in love with her. He showed that he could be human, but that didn't mean that she liked him anymore than the others."

Alistair turned on her, eyes ablaze. "So, what? You're saying she's a blood mage? I thought you were more loyal than that." He felt remorse flood his gut immediately at the hurt look on her face.

"I'm not saying anything," she said softly. "It wouldn't be the first time an apprentice became a blood mage. Even such a good person. She's been in the wilderness for six years now. People change when confronted with that kind of violence and loneliness."

"She could have attacked them in defense, though, right? And then barbarians butchered the corpses," Alistair asked. He seemed to want to believe it so badly, the soldier could hardly dispute.

"Yes," the soldier nodded. "That is a distinct possibility. And as your advisor said, there are other mages out there. We have no proof that it was the Hero who did this. Bandits might have read the note and crumpled it up."

Feeling much better, Alistair nodded. "Find her. This time, send soldiers. I should have thought of that before. Templars would scare her to death."

Crossing his arms over his heart, the soldier bowed and then exited the throne room. Alistair stomped back to his chair and collapsed in it, hand massaging his temples. "Wynne, she couldn't have done it, right? Elda is not a blood mage."

Feeling that honesty was the best policy, she put a grandmotherly hand on his disheveled hair. "She spent a lot of time with Morrigan, my king. But not all blood mages are bad people."

By the time the pale morning light crawled slowly across sky and managed to shine a portion of itself into the ratty inn, Elda was nursing a headache and feeling rather fatigued. The hand had been saved, the dead flesh replenished, but it still felt as though it was on fire. She sipped at the tasteless tea the tavern woman had brought her, waiting for Rinna to rise. If she didn't arise soon, Elda would have to wake her up. She needed her staff, and they needed to leave.

She wondered faintly if Jowan had fixed it. He had always been a coward and would have likely worked through the night for his life. What he never understood was how useful some people could be. For example, she could have proved to be a very valuable ally had he simply divulged to her that he was in fact a blood mage and wanted out of the tower. Hell, she would have gone with him and learned the art much earlier. And now, he was in debt to her because she let him live. He was living under poor circumstances in constant fear for his life because he had fallen in love and hadn't thought his actions through.

"Love," she spat with disdain. "It gets the best of us."

Jowan had been a good mage. He let stupidity cripple him. But, she glanced over at Rinna, there was something compelling about protecting the one she loved. In that sense, she could sympathize with him. It was the only way she could sympathize with the cravenly mage.

Her hand gave another pang. Nagging at the forefront of her mind was the demon she had called up the night before. It alarmed her that Ikilai had managed to not only trick her into turning her back on him—a considerably foolish thing to do—but also to steal a bit of her life's essence. She could feel it missing, like a gash in her soul. She had been tired and drained. It was foolish to have spoken with him for so long anyway. Once the deal was finished, she should have destroyed the pentagram. Sighing, she heard something stir beneath the quilts on the bed.

Rinna's head popped up, one hand rubbing a sleepy eye. "Mommy?"

Elda glanced up, forcing a smile through the pain in her entire body. "Right here, sweetheart. Did you want something to eat?" She gestured at the small picnic on the creaking table.

The eight year old nodded and reached up with her hands in a gesture that clearly meant 'hold me'. Not sure if she actually could at that moment, Elda got to her feet hesitantly and walked over to the child. "Honey, you remember I hurt my hands a lot?" she said carefully, bending down to slide one arm around the child's waist and hoist Rinna up onto her hip.

Rinna nodded.

"I hurt my hand again last night. So we have to be extra careful, okay?" She sat in the chair, Rinna on her lap, and pulled out a bread roll with one hand. It was still warm, and Rinna took it eagerly.

"Are you gonna die?" her daughter asked suddenly, staring at the bandages mummifying her fingertips all the way to her wrist.

Elda blinked. "No, sweetheart. I'm not going to die. Where did this come from?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind the girl's ear. Then Elda understood. "Did you have another nightmare?"

With a mouthful of steaming bread, she nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Oh, baby," Elda comforted, slinking her bandaged hand around the Rinna's lithe body and hugging her close. "Nothing in the Fade can hurt you while I'm here."

Rinna shook her head. "Not the green place," she mumbled.

"What was the dream about, then?" Elda asked, confused. If Rinna ever had any dreams at all, they were always in the Fade. Those dreams frightened her mother. At any moment, her child could become an abomination.

Then she sensed the templars. Hushing Rinna with a finger to her mouth, she cocked an ear to listen. They were downstairs. Several of them. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch despite herself, but it wasn't fear. It was excitement. She swallowed. One of them was questioning the tavern keeper. He had a deep, rugged voice. Rinna gave a sort of whine.

Elda forced herself to her feet, setting Rinna down. "Rinna, we're going to play the game today," she said, digging through the quilts for Rinna's cloak. She returned to the girl and fastened it underneath her chin. Patting her on the shoulder, she stared right into those hypnotizing eyes. "You remember the rules, right?"

"No talking, hold your hand and don't let go," she recited easily, sticking her pale fingers out from beneath the black cloak. Elda smiled.

"Good girl," she said quickly, snatching Rinna's hand into her own. She picked up her pack off the floor. "When we're on the street, you have to walk extra fast. If a man stops us, keep quiet, all right? Mommy will take care of him."

Rinna squeezed her hand. "Will you kill him?"

"Yes."

Opening the dirty window took more effort than she would have thought with an injured hand. With much swearing, she eventually broke the seal and let in the dusty air of the dirty city. She dropped her pack onto the ground outside. It landed with a thump. Then, taking hold of Rinna in her arms, she jumped as well. Traveling with both a bard and an assassin had proved to be useful after all. She landed without a sound, no one the wiser, and plucked the backpack from the ground easily. Swinging it on her back, she set Rinna down and covered her eyes with the bandaged hand, trying to get her bearings. She had to head west in order to get to Jowan quickly. She hoped he had finished fixing her staff. There would be no time to haggle or threaten Jowan with the templars on her tail.

Halisk had a lot of back alleys and a lot of stinking apothecaries. Only one had Jowan's particular taint on it. With the both of them wearing black hoods to hide their faces, no one stopped them. It wasn't odd for a courier to make his or her way through a dirty city on his or her way to another place. One thing that made her nervous was that templars seemed to haunt every corner. They'd definitely caught wind of her excursions that night. Her new tattoos pulsed with pain, bones aching in the heat, hand screaming in agony. When they found the door, she didn't bother to knock. Instead, she rushed in and shut the door behind her.

A blast of lightning shot straight at them. Out of instinct more than anything, Elda crouched, coddling Rinna against her chest, and put her back to the enemy. She threw up a Fade shield before the lightning bolt could do any damage.

"Maker! You scared the hell out of me, Elda!" Jowan yelled, breathing heavily. She noticed he was wearing traveling robes, a backpack slung across his shoulders, too, staff in hand. Every apostate in town was probably making a run for it. All the better, she thought. After all, it was difficult to spot a wolf amongst sheep when all one could see was white.

"Never mind that, now," she hissed, standing up. "Give me my staff."

"It's in the back room," he said quickly. "I suggest you get it and leave. Whatever you did last night alerted every templar in this city. I'm leaving."

"Rinna, go hide in the corner," Elda snapped, grabbing Jowan's arm before he could go. Rinna ran to the corner and hunkered down in a ball, hands over her ears. "I need to remind you of something."

"W-what?" Jowan stuttered, her grip on his arm nearly breaking it.

Fire exploded on her hand. He couldn't help it. He screamed. Flames licked up the length of his arm, charring and bubbling the flesh. When she let go, he stumbled back into a weeping ball on the floor. But when he glanced at his arm, there was no mark. His skin wasn't burned. He glanced at her in astonishment.

"That is what it feels like to have your hand nearly burned off. The next time you give me a bottle of white sand and tell me it is unaffected by temperature, I will take your life as payment for my pain. Now get," she jerked her chin to the door. He scrambled to his feet and ran away. "Let's go, Rinna."

Rinna took her hand, and they went into the back room. As soon as she saw her staff, Elda felt a pang of remorse for harming Jowan. He had not only fixed the crack, but also smoothed out the handle. Also, he'd encrusted the top with lyrium sand to offer more power. She took the polished dragon bone staff and ran her uninjured hand over it. It was glorious.

"Mommy," Rinna tugged on her cloak. "The bad men are coming." There was noise outside. Men were shouting in the streets. They must have picked up on her trail.

"I seriously picked the wrong town to do this in," she muttered to herself, sliding the staff into the leather holding case on her back and sweeping out the other door. She paused on the threshold, listening for anything. Very little moved on this side of the building. A man snored in a pile of his own filth. Emaciated but a live, a cat picked through the garbage with its paw. A crow tilted its head curiously at her, gave a squawk, and flapped away.

"This way," she whispered, herding Rinna ahead of her in a swish of black cloth. She missed her wolf fur but couldn't wear it for fear of looking too much like a traveler. As they hurried through the back alleys, Elda clenched and unclenched her injured hand, waiting for a fight. The entire town was filled with chaos. Chickens were loose from the pens. The hot sun beat unbearably on their back. Beggars flooded the streets with their filth, begging the hunting templars for change. A fight broke out in the northern quarter when a templar cut one of the buggers down in midstride. They were infuriated. It was like a bloodhound hearing the drums of a great hunt. She knew they wouldn't be stopped until they found the bloodmage responsible. Even if they had to kill every last apostate they came across and more.

A sword came out to halt her steps as they neared the gates to freedom. Cold steel glinting against her breast made her pause but not look up. She continued facing down, staring at the top of Rinna's cloaked head, fingers tightening on the girl's shoulders. Rinna's hot back was pressed against her legs. If she were to cast a spell, she would need to get her daughter away from the blast zone.

The templars smelled of blood.

"Halt. In the name of the Chantry and the Maker, remove your hood and state your reason for leaving," demanded a blonde templar. He was an older gentleman, his armor shining blindingly in the sunlight. Flecks of grey intruded upon green in his eyes. She reached up a tattooed hand and removed her hood quickly, letting the sun catch her face.

To some, she supposed, she probably appeared very dangerous. Tattoos and other markings (scars among them) wound about her neck like a collar. Her white hair was cropped short and wispy, almost magical in its color. Absorbing the essences of various demons had made her physical appearance change as well. She was young and would remain so forever. Her teeth were pointed like that of a wild animal, sharpened to a point and white as snow. Her eyes were a mix of red and arctic blue, glinting like gems in their intensity. Pointed ears marked her elven forever as did the litheness of her skinny body and tiny face. She was frightening as well as beautiful, and she knew it. That was why she knew they would detain her.

To his credit, he didn't gasp in shock. He simply nodded his head and pointed to Rinna. "The girl's, too."

She hesitated. She didn't like anyone knowing Rinna's face. The man stood patiently, but another templar tapped her on the shoulder. She slipped her fingers under the lip of Rinna's hood and pulled. It fell back to reveal her daughter's incredulous face, staring at the man as if he were the Maker himself.

"Hello, there, sweetheart," the man smiled warmly at her. "We just need to get a few things straight, and you can go on your way. There's no reason to look so terrified."

She would have preferred to kill them and leave, but the blonde man appeared to be completely ignorant or at least trying to be. Adopting a less sharp voice, she stated her business. "Ser, the town is in chaos, and we've no more money for the tavern to stay. My daughter and I must leave soon. I need to find work."

"A likely story," a younger man snapped. He had black hair that reminded her of coal. "Look at this, Rodrick. She's carrying a staff. An apostate, clearly."

Elda tensed.

"Yes," admitted Rodrick sadly, "I'm afraid we're going to have to take you back to the tower, Miss. Your daughter, too." The coal-haired boy snorted, balancing a large sword on his shoulder.

"Just kill them. We're looking for a bloodmage."

"Shut up, Kenneth," the older man snapped. He addressed them. "Do you have authorization to be out of the tower?"

"Yes," was her reply. "I am a grey warden."

Rodrick stared at her as if she'd gone mad. Kenneth laughed out loud, leaning on his sword for support. "A filthy mage a grey warden? And a woman at that! Elf, too!"

"Shut it," a female templar said, slapping Kenneth on the back so that he fell face first onto the ground. "Women can be grey wardens, fool. Elves and mages, too. But they can't have children." She eyed Rinna warily.

"My daughter was born before I became a grey warden," she said quickly. The heat of the sun was getting to her. She felt the compulsion to kill becoming stronger. Others knew she was the one they were looking for. They were coming and coming fast.

Rodrick knelt in front of Rinna and stared into her vacuous blue eyes. "Is it true, honey? Is this woman a grey warden?"

Rinna said something then that made Elda both proud and frightened at the same time. She glanced up at him, a wolfish smile on her face and said, "My mommy is going to kill you."