AN: Wherein it is explained how Neria survived the assault in Rainesfere, and later in Denerim.

Chapter Four

She was surrounded by warmth and light that, instead of stinging her eyes, soothed and calmed her. Around her a thousand voices raised in song stilled her and comforted her. She remembered the words she said to Teagan in what seemed a lifetime ago, "Do you think it's warm in the Beyond?" She supposed she had her answer.

"Am I dead?" she asked aloud.

"What is 'dead?'" was the response, more in her head than in her ears. The voice was soft, mellifluous and infinitely compassionate. "Ahhh, cessation, ending, expiration. Such a strange concept. I am sorry."

She opened her eyes to see a bright light near her that had detached from the others. It seemed to be all around her, enfolding her in petal soft wings of luminous energy. And if light could exude an emotion, she felt an almost maternal love in its embrace.

"Not dead. The Fade?" she asked. "I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming."

The spirit near her seemed to pause and almost sounded amused. "Do you dream of me? Or do I dream of you?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "Who are you?"

"I don't have a name. Why do you mortals insist on naming things?" There was a soft sigh, then, "I suppose you can call me by the virtue I aspire to. I am called Compassion."

"I know you, don't I?"

"Yes, we have been together a long, long time now. Long as you mortals reckon time. I came to you when you were very small and frightened and lost here in the Fade. I found you very curious and I couldn't let the demons hurt you. You shone with such light. I have been watching you since."

"You were there during my Harrowing and when I fought the demon to free Connor. You…you helped me."

"My contribution was little. You did all the hard parts."

"And later…you were there when…"

"When you expired, yes."

"I remember! I dreamed you healed me, kept me alive until help arrived from the tower. That was you!" she exclaimed.

"That was me."

"No, wait…I was dead, wasn't I?" she asked.

"You would have ceased to exist. But I couldn't let you expire that way. You had too much left undone."

"I'm dead now, aren't I?"

"Yes."

Tears welled up and overflowed. Never in all her life had she had more to live for than now. Teagan and her daughter meant everything to her. The feelings of warmth and love here felt like home, but she had so much left she wanted to do. She wanted to see Gwyn grow up and she wanted to say goodbye to Teagan, tell him she loved him one last time.

"I don't want to be dead. Life was finally so good for me. Why am I dead?"

The spirit had no answers for her.

"It's time to go back now," Compassion told her. "You aren't finished yet."

It was cold. And wet. And every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire. She lay on her side along the shore, listening to the sound of water slapping against the docks. Her eyes were swollen shut and the simple act of breathing was an agony. It was dark around her, but she couldn't tell if it was morning or evening.

Coughing, she expelled water from her lungs, and was caught in a coughing fit despite her body's protests. Her ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the dock above her and she tried to cry for help. Only a small whimper came from a throat that felt like she'd been gargling with razor blades.

There was a pause. Then the steps approached her, and she heard a voice.

"I thought I heard something…. Maker have mercy, child!"

"Help…hurts…" she managed to gasp.

She felt large hands on her arms, rough with calluses, but gentle in their touch.

"I don't doubt it does. I'm so sorry. We have to get you somewhere warm and safe and dry."

He stepped away and she sobbed.

"Don't leave me here," she pleaded in a whisper, all her raw throat would allow her.

A rough blanket was wrapped around her and she felt herself lifted onto a canvas. Then she was hoisted and she realized she was lying on a litter. For a time her head swam between conscious and unconsciousness and she was unsure how long it took to travel. Then she was moved to a small bed, not much more than a cot with a pillow.

"We should tell Valendrian," said another man.

"No. You know who did this to her! If Vaughan learns she's alive, there's no telling what he'll do to us all!"

"Why bring her here then?"

"Because you know the humans won't care and I couldn't just leave her to die in the cold like that. I'd like to think someone would have done the same for Liara. At least here, she can be dry and warm."

"I'm surprised she's alive at all. She must have a pretty strong will to hold on to life like that. Surely she has someone who will care."

The voice snapped. "Does she look familiar to you?"

"She's one giant bruise, Andros. She could be my own mother and I wouldn't recognize her."

"Wait, what's this?" Andros pulled her locket around, disentangling it from her hair.

"No…please…Teagan," she moaned.

"A keepsake, maybe? And who's this 'Teagan?' That sounds like a human name. She doesn't look like anyone from the Alienage, no one I've seen before anyway," said the other man.

"Nor I. Perhaps she's with one of the noble houses in the city for the Landsmeet. Let's keep our eyes and ears open and see if we can learn anything."

Then darkness swept over her again and she slept.

It was decided that Teagan was too close to the situation. Despite his protests, and only acquiescing because even he had to admit this would take finesse, something he was sorely lacking in at the moment, Teagan had to watch from the Arl of Redcliffe's estate as Alistair, Nathaniel and Anders went with a contingent of soldiers to the Arl of Denerim's.

Nathaniel was glad Regina was there for the older man as he could only imagine how frantic he would be if Regina had been taken in this manner.

While Alistair and his soldiers went through the front door, Nathaniel and Anders moved around to the back and found an open window on the second floor. Nathaniel looked around and spied just what they needed.

"Anders, ever do any tree climbing?"

"Not since I was twelve," the mage replied, looking speculatively at the branches. "You think they'll hold us?"

Nathaniel shot him a mischievous smirk. "Only one way to find out…."

He swung into the tree and nimbly scaled its branches. Anders hiked up his robes and followed more cautiously, but soon they were both at the window. Slipping in they saw the room—a bedroom—was deserted. Moving across to the door, Anders paused and Nathaniel raised a brow in question.

The mage pointed at a telltale dark stain the rug quite didn't cover.

"Tell me that isn't what I think it is," he whispered.

Nathaniel crossed over to it and touched his fingers to it, smelled them. It was dried and hours old, but it was blood. A telltale tingle ran up his arm as he rubbed his fingers together.

"It's blood," he said. "Blood bearing the taint."

"So…unless Vaughan has a hankering for hurlocks…" Anders began.

"It's Grey Warden blood."

"Umm…you can tell that…?"

"I can feel the taint in it."

Anders frowned and shook his head, looking dismayed.

"It…might not be hers…"

"How many Grey Wardens are in Denerim? Do you honestly think he would do this to Commander Leonie?"

Anders snorted. "Just…trying to be optimistic. She'd have his liver on a stick. That bitch has nerves of silverite."

Moving to the door, Nathaniel pressed an ear to it, listening for noises in the hall. Opening the door carefully when he could detect no one present in the hall, he looked both ways. There was a long corridor leading to the main hall with several doors along the hallway. The other direction led to further rooms and a dead end.

The stains had been cleaned, but to Nathaniel's trained eye, they may as well have been marked with paint. He pointed toward the back hall as he began to follow the trail.

Anders followed him closely, trying to be as quiet as he could when Nathaniel hissed and pulled him back. They slipped into the room next to them as voices approached.

From the tone and the words, Nathaniel assumed that cultured voice belonged to Arl Vaughan.

"…of course, I don't mind. I never use the dungeons, so they'll be a little dusty from neglect. Howe was the one more interested in that. You can look anywhere you wish. So tragic, really. You'll convey my best wishes to Bann Teagan for the speedy return of his wh…mistress, but truthfully, who knows when she'll return. Perhaps she ran off with a woodcutter or something. One never knows with these knife ears."

Anders bristled, but Nathaniel put out a hand to hold him back and put a finger to his lips. They heard Alistair's stiff reply.

"Neria wouldn't do that. She's the Hero of Ferelden—she's more responsible than that."

"Of course, you knew her better than I. I can only speak of those elves I have…"

The voices faded as they moved around the corridor and down the hallway.

"He's a cool one," Anders said, frowning.

"He's hiding something for sure. Let's see if we can't follow this trail of blood."

A low moan nearby made them both turn to see a young elven woman lying in the bed, her form motionless. They approached her, compassion etched on Anders' face, no doubt mirroring his own expression. The spirit healer closed his eyes with a pained look as if he could sense the agony of her torn flesh. Nathaniel did a quick assessment of his own, finding she was battered and bloody, but her heart beat was still strong and most of the bruises were superficial. She pulled the sheets around her body, nothing but the tattered remnants of garments covering her limbs now.

"No more, please. Let me go home," she begged in a tiny voice.

"Did Vaughan do this?" Nathaniel asked.

Anders shrugged and raised a hand over the young woman, blue radiance emanating from his fingertips to ease her pain and heal her injuries. Nathaniel moved over to a wardrobe and pulled out a shirt and trousers. He brought them over to the girl and she pulled them on.

"No, Vaughan didn't do this," she said. "But his soldiers did. I was to be the captain's plaything until he grew tired of me."

"Maker's breath, how many others are here?" Anders asked.

"Carolys, Adri and I. And there was another, though I don't know her name. She wasn't conscious, so we couldn't speak to her, and she was taken elsewhere when we got here." She began to cry. "Adri wouldn't stop screaming and the man who took her beat her until she was quiet, then she wasn't moving. She wouldn't wake up and they took her body out earlier. Carolys is in the other room. There is a crack in the wall over here we've been using to talk to each other. I think she's…mostly all right."

"The other woman, did she have shoulder length red hair? She may have been wearing a dark blue robe with silver designs," Anders described Neria.

"Of little vines and leaves?"

"That's the one."

"Oh, Maker," Nathaniel sighed. "Can she walk?"

"Nothing's broken," Anders confirmed. "Let's get your friend."

Nathaniel put out a hand and grabbed Anders' arm. "No."

"No? Nate, are you crazy? These girls need to be taken out of here!"

"Oh, Andraste's mercy, please don't leave us!" she cried.

Nathaniel frowned, but he wasn't without compassion. "We're here to rescue all of you. Our friend is missing and we need to find her before we can get you out of here. If Vaughan sees us moving around with you, he'll call all of his soldiers down on us. If we can get you out of here, will you speak up against Vaughan and his men?"

"Gladly," she hissed, the word filled with vehemence.

"Let's go heal her friend at least," said Anders.

"You shouldn't have healed her. What if the captain comes back and finds her bruises gone?"

"Oh! I didn't think of that. Maker's mercy…. Maybe he won't notice?"

"Notice what? A couple of idiot sods like you in my room? Did you come here to steal something?"

A voice from the door caught them by surprise. With a whimper that left no doubt who the man was at the door, the elf ran to the other side of the room and cowered in a corner.

He pulled out a longsword and moved towards them.

He'd barely gotten three paces before Nathaniel had pulled his bow, notched an arrow and shot it through his throat. Gasping, dropping his blade and grasping at his throat, the man collapsed with a gurgle, choking on his own blood.

"Well, now you've gone and done it," said Anders, shaking his head.

"He deserved it and more. I'm just sorry it was over fast. I hope it was painful," Nathaniel said.

"You know, you have some really dark places inside you," Anders said, frowning. "What will we do with the body?" he asked, stepping back from the blood pooling near his feet.

"I'll…I'll hide it," said the girl. "And I'll clean up the mess."

"Thank you," said Nathaniel. "We'll be back for you, I promise. Tell Carolys to be brave, help is here."

Before he slipped out of the room, Nathaniel saw the girl move over to the man who had been her tormentor and kick him with her foot.

Following the trail of blood, they found it branched off away from the dungeons toward the larder. A couple of elven servants were the only ones there cleaning the hearth and preparing the morning meal.

The older looked up as Nathaniel and Anders entered the room. Then, they went back to their tasks, their minds more on that than two shems passing through the larder.

The trail of blood led outside and past the estate walls. Nathaniel made a note of it then nodded.

"Time to get those girls out of there and let Alistair finish up with that creep," Nathaniel said.

"Where do you think the trail leads?"

"Out there? No telling. I'm guessing…" Nathaniel's voice dropped. He didn't want to say what he was thinking.

"What?" Anders asked.

Nathaniel went back in through the larder door and moved down the hallway they had passed. He freed the first elven woman and then found her companion in the room next to hers in a similar state. They slipped back down the hall cautiously.

The only guard they encountered, a man heading to the privy, was knocked unconscious before he was aware of them; his body dragged into his destination and propped up. Anders snickered.

"What are you laughing about?" Nathaniel asked.

"Just imagining him explaining that to the man who finds him sleeping in the privy with his pants up."

Nathaniel grinned as they escorted the two women out the same way they had exited earlier. This time the elves watched curiously as the two women entered the larder. Carolys went over and spoke to the older woman who nodded and hugged her then pressed something in the young woman's hand.

Hugging the wall, they managed to slip out and wait nearby where they had decided to meet up with Alistair. They didn't have long to wait as the king and the small contingent of guards exited the estate and moved down the street to where Anders and Nathaniel waited.

"Did you find anything?" Alistair asked.

"She was there," Nathaniel confirmed. "These young ladies were taken as well and this one told us she saw Neria." Alistair looked at the girl Nathaniel indicated and she nodded. "Your Majesty, I followed a trail of blood leading out here…and down there."

Nathaniel indicated the direction of the trail toward the docks.

"Maker's mercy, no," Alistair gasped. "She's not…I think I would have felt that if she was…no…" His face hardened and his jaw set in grim determination. "Sergeant Kylon, have the docks searched. I want everyone down there questioned. By the Maker, if she…. He won't get away with this." He sighed. "I'm not looking forward to having to tell Teagan."

"Alistair, wait," said Anders. He hesitated, but he obviously had something he wanted to say. "Can we speak privately?"

He, Nathaniel and Alistair moved to one side away from the others.

"Neria is a spirit healer," Anders said.

"Yes, like Wynne," Alistair nodded. He knew this.

"Spirit healers are…different from other mages," Anders said. He was watching Alistair's face nervously, and considering the king was once a templar, Nathaniel could guess the source of his trepidation.

"Just, say it, Anders. What do you want to tell me?"

"She might not be dead."

A tiny flame of hope burst in Nathaniel's chest and he saw that mirrored in Alistair's face.

"Spirit healers have an affinity for the good fade spirits. You remember Justice, Nathaniel? The spirit who helped us free those people from the Baroness? In the Blackmarsh?" Nathaniel nodded. "Not all spirits of the Fade are demons. Some are kind and good. Spirit healers form a bond with one of these spirits, usually one of compassion or some other gentle virtue."

"Are you saying Neria is an abomination?" Alistair frowned.

Anders frowned. "No! Maker's breath, no! The spirit doesn't possess us—it guides us and helps us when we need it, usually in the Fade. If her spirit hasn't exhausted itself, and we can find her soon, Neria won't be dead."

"Then we have to find her," said Nathaniel.

"I still have to tell Teagan, and we need to get these ladies home," said Alistair. "Then we find either Neria or her…Neria, and we make this bastard pay."