I apologize for this one being a couple of days off my usual schedule. More action scenes = more time trying to get it all just right. Thank you so much for the feedback, I'm really glad you guys are enjoying the story, as I'm having a blast writing it.
The cave they had found was cramped, little more than a weathered out fissure in the side of a hill, but the opening was easy to overlook and it kept off the rain, which began that night and had not let up when dawn came. Anders stared out of the entrance for the fifth time since waking, trying to calm the growing panic that kept rising in his chest. Where was Nora? His mind constructed all sorts of nightmare scenarios. She was lying injured somewhere in the forest. She had stumbled back into camp in time to be captured by the templars. No, he told himself fiercely, she's fine. She's tough, she's resourceful. She'll find us or she'll find a safe place to wait for us.
"How will we know when the templars are gone?" Merrill asked, from where she was curled up on her bedroll against the wall, with Bethany close by. They hadn't dared to light a fire last night, even if they could have found dry tinder for it, and so they had slept huddled together like rabbits in a hole to conserve warmth.
"I'll go out and scout around a bit when the weather clears." He replied.
"I wonder if Nora is back at the campsite." Bethany said. She looked tired, pale. Scared. It was her sister and her ward that were missing, Anders thought with empathy. He was worried as well.
"Why are they here?" she asked, frowning angrily, "What could they possibly be doing out here in this weather?"
"Hunting, maybe." Anders said, with a sigh, "It's possible it isn't even us they're looking for. The woods are a common place for apostates to hide when they are on the run."
"Why can't they just leave us alone?"
Anders shook his head and turned back to watch the rain that was pattering down outside. He had no real answer to that, only the hope that it was all going to change soon.
~~0~~
Consciousness returned to Nora in stages. First, there was just the sensation of time passing in the darkness, and then the awareness of a dull, painful, wrenching throb throughout her body.
She's awake, a voice said somewhere nearby, sounding faint to her ears.
Everything seemed to hurt. Her nerves sang shriller than a kennelmaster's whistle, enhancing the hideous ache in her limbs and a yearning, tearing feeling in her head and chest. She shuddered, remembering the lyrium she had taken the day before and the eventual crash, the need that she had felt after it had begun to wear off when she had first taken it years ago.
Let's get this done, then, another, gruffer voice answered nearby.
She could see nothing, something was tied over her eyes, but she was vaguely aware that she was kneeling and her hands were bound behind her. Her muscles were cramped and sore from the uncomfortable position and she tried to shift, to relieve the tension, but found it only produced fresh explosions of pain. Her wrists seemed to be tied down in the back somehow, or bound to her ankles, leaving her in an awkward position.
The shock of the cold water hitting her face blocked out everything else for a moment and she gasped reflexively, heaving to regain her breath.
"'Morning." A gravely voice said, too cheerfully, from somewhere in front of her. She shivered, trying to force her sluggish thoughts into alertness.
"Who are you?" she asked, straining to listen to hear what was going on around her.
"We'll be asking the questions." said another voice somewhere to the left of the first.
"This is a mistake…" she began, but was silence by a blow across her cheek. It hurt but it didn't feel like it had been delivered at full force. Rather, it was administered only to make a point.
"You don't listen, do you, Templar?" the first voice grunted, allowing a slight pause for punctuation before continuing, "Where are the others?"
She paused, trying to process the question. If he was asking about her friends, she should say nothing to keep them safe. If he was talking about someone else, she had no idea who he meant.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied, evenly, and braced herself as she heard another blow coming. This one was meant to hurt. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
"Wrong answer." The gruff voice said, patiently, as if this was a routine exercise.
"Think carefully." The second voice added, reasonably, "Just tell us what we want to know and all this can stop."
"Where are they, Templar?" the first voice asked again, threateningly.
"I'm not a templar." She replied, gritting her teeth, and heard a rough laugh.
"There's about half a dozen bottles of lyrium in your pack that say otherwise. We're not daft, Serrah. We know your kind when we see them. Being out of uniform doesn't change what you are."
"If you let me explain…" she began and then bit back a cry of pain and the beating commenced in earnest. When it was over with, they drug her back upright.
"Listen," said the milder of the two voices, "All we're after is the boy your people picked up in Stonebridge five days ago. That's not sodding unreasonable, is it? Not something worth dying over? Tell us where he is, and we'll let you go."
"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about!" she shot back at him, angrily, "I'm not a templar and this is all a misunderstanding that we can clear up if you'll just listen to me for a moment!"
.Someone sighed.
"We're going to have to do this the hard way."
~~0~~
Anders made his way carefully through the wet forest, backtracking towards the river. Luck had been with him so far…no sign of the templars. If luck continued to be with him, he would find Nora and the girl waiting back at their campsite and they could all get the hell out of here before any additional unpleasantness occurred. Let her be okay, he said, silently, though he was not sure who he was saying it to. He had never been religious. The Maker, as the Chantry so openly admitted, was not taking requests from His children at the moment, so why bother praying? I've only just got her back, he thought, his jaw clenching, furiously, I can't lose her again now. He would take whatever help he could get.
The campsite was empty, but there were the remains of a fire from the previous night. His heart leapt with hope. If Nora had been here, she must be looking for them now. Maybe she would be back at the cave when he returned. As he turned to go, though, he had the strange, hair-raising sensation that he was being watched. Scanning the trees, the long riverbank, he could see nothing. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and turned just in time to see a face disappear into the bushes. His heart pounded in his chest and he raised his staff in case of ambush.
If it were the templars, he thought, they would have just rushed him. Nora would have recognized him immediately, she wouldn't be hiding. Who else could it possibly be? Think, he told himself, trying to pull his thoughts together, you have to do something, what will it be? Drawing in a breath, he moved towards the treeline. Whoever was out there, it would be better to confront them head on than wonder if they were out there waiting to strike or following him back to the cave. This was not usually his area of expertise, he thought mournfully, wishing even more than before that Nora was here. What would she have done?
"Show yourself!" he demanded, pulling together as much courage as he could as he reached the edge of the woods, stepping in a ways. His words were greeted with silence, just the wind through the branches. Cautiously, he moved further in, searching the brush, listening for any sound. The snap of a twig nearby nearly sent him running in a fit of overwrought nerves.
He stood for a moment and listened, and just when he was about to move on, he saw a figure dart out from behind a tree to his side. In an instant his staff was alight with crackling electricity.
"Stop!" he called out, a warning before he sent the bolt towards its target, and to his surprise the figure did stop, skidding on the leaves that covered the ground. It was a man…no, a youth, probably no older than thirteen or fourteen, with dark brown hair and wide eyes. His clothes were filthy and torn and he looked skinny and frightened. Anders felt as if his heart was going to explode any moment from the sheer, useless surge of adrenaline. He lowered his staff, extinguishing the charge, staring.
"You're a mage?" the youth asked, tentatively, cautiously. Anders nodded, dumbfounded. The boy rushed over to him, eyes frantic.
"You've got to help me!"
~~0~~
Nora wriggled against her bonds, trying to loosen the cords and feeling them cut into her flesh as they held tight. She was not sure exactly what was going on, but she knew she had to get out of this somehow. By her judgment, she had been gone about a day already. The others would be worried, and Anders would no doubt try to come looking for her.
Her captors, whoever they were, would not believe that she was not a templar. She supposed she would be skeptical if the situation was reversed, but she could not seem to make them understand and they would not listen. They seemed to be looking for a boy, a relative perhaps, who had been taken by templars and were not willing to take no for an answer. She could hear the ominous scrape of a whetstone moving across steel somewhere nearby, and decided that whatever the hard way was, she didn't want to find out.
It didn't help that her body was not cooperating with her. In addition to the injuries recently inflicted on her, she could not seem to stop shivering, though she felt as if she were roasting in her skin at the same time. Having experienced a worse version of it before, she knew it was a side-effect of the lyrium leaving her system and not being replaced. Her thoughts seemed muddled and it was hard to concentrate, and she was thirsty. So very, very thirsty.
"Keep that up and you'll make it worse." A male voice said near her head, and she felt something pressed to her lips, "It's water. Drink."
She did, gratefully, draining the wooden beaker in one draught, gasping. Her body yearned for more. The voice that spoke to her was different than the others, more cultured, the lilt to the words familiar.
"Thank you." She rasped. There was a silence. She continued quickly, desperate to seize the chance to connect with one of her captors, to explain, "You're from Kirkwall. I recognize your accent."
"Yes." The voice said, warily.
"I lived there once." She said, searching for something, anything, to say next, "Do you have news of it?"
"None that I care to pass on." The voice remarked dryly, and paused, "What is your name, serrah?"
"Hawke." She answered, truthfully, and hoped that it was not a mistake. If he recognized the name, if he had been a mage in Kirkwall, it could surely not make the situation worse.
"Ser Hawke." The voice replied, quietly, soberly, "I have to tell you that if you don't start to cooperate, my companions here are likely to kill you."
"Believe me, if I could tell you where your friend was, I would do so gladly." She assured him, praying that someone would finally believe her, "Our enemies are the same."
"You claim you are not a templar. And yet I saw you Dispel, and you have prepared lyrium with you. You are very clearly suffering from its effects now." He said, carefully.
"Messere," she replied, drawing upon every ounce of concentration and sincerity she could, "If you will allow it, I will be happy to explain myself."
She heard the man shift beside her and then he was gone. A few moments later, there were footsteps and the blindfold was jerked roughly off. She blinked in the dim light that filtered down through the canopy of trees and for a moment, she thought she was seeing double. Standing over her, just a head or so taller than her when she was kneeling, were two dwarves, and they were identical except for the scars on their faces.
"Talk." One of them growled. And she did.
~~0~~
"He's been gone a long time." Bethany said, peering out of the cave in frustration, "Maybe we should go after him."
"Anders said to stay here." Merrill replied, doubtfully, "He might be on his way back now. If we leave, we could miss him."
She could see that her friend was working herself up into a state. The human mage sat down heavily and leaned back against the wall, fidgeting anxiously. It was understandable. Her sister and Merie were missing and they had no way of knowing when Anders would return. Merrill laid a hand on the woman's shoulder.
"It will be alright, lethallan." She said, gently, and saw Bethany brush tears out of the corner of her eye, leaving a streak of dirt on her cheek.
Just then, they heard a sound from outside…the snapping of brush, the sound of boots crush leaves and twigs beneath them. Merrill perked up suddenly, expecting to see Anders drop down through the hole at any moment, but then it registered to her that there was more than one set of footsteps.
"Are you certain?" an unfamiliar male voice spoke outside. Merrill felt Bethany clench her hand tightly.
"It's strong here. Can you not feel it?" another said. Elgar'nan, it sounded like the men were standing right on top of them!
"It's this damnable forest. I can't…what was that?"
There was a silence.
"Spread out." A third man ordered, and they heard more footsteps, "If he's here, we'll find him."
"Oh, no…" Bethany breathed, horrified. Merrill reached for the knife at her belt. Let me help you…a familiar voice spoke into the back of her mind…I can help you make them leave. You know we can. She shook her head and forced her concentration outward, to the mouth of the little cave. Only as a last resort, she promised herself. Only if there was no other way.
~~0~~
Anders hurried through the woods back towards the trees, listening with growing alarm as the boy, who had identified himself as Brann, explained his situation.
"So, I lost them as we were crossing at the ford. Can't swim in all that armor, can they?" the young man said.
"Yes, that was a bold move." He replied, absently, his mind racing. He had thought Nora would be back at the camp, but there had been no sign of her. Everything seemed to be going wrong, and, though he couldn't refuse a fellow mage help, he was not entirely sure he should be leading the object of a templar hunt back to where Bethany and Merrill were hiding, "Do you know where they are now?"
"No. They've been right on my trail for days now, couldn't shake them. But I haven't seen or heard them in hours now. Maybe they got lost."
"I doubt it." Anders replied, frowning, and then froze as he heard a distant voice. For a moment, he thought it might be Merrill or Bethany calling for him. They were near enough to the cave. There was the distant crunch of movement. But the voice, echoing around the trees, was male and Anders realized with a sickening sensation that the templars must be near the cave.
"Hide." He told Brann, quickly. "Get under a bush and cover yourself with leaves if you have to. Wait till the templars pass by and then go straight ahead from here. There's a ravine with a cave not far in that direction and my friends should be there. Make sure they're alright and then stay put, all of you."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to draw them off." Anders said, determinedly. He had the feeling that he was about to do something monumentally foolish, but Bethany and Merrill were in trouble and they were trapped. He took a deep breath, clapped Brann on the shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and then took off through the forest at a tangent from the way they came.
When he was a good ways away, he stopped and closed his eyes. This was a disaster. What he was about to do was reckless and absolutely contrary to everything he would normally have done. Like a fish leaping in a pond, he remembered Nora saying. With that, he raised his hand, summoning a ball of energy in his palm and pouring every ounce of power he could into it.
~~0~~
Bethany was sure it was all over with. They could hear the templars searching overhead, beating the brush. Freedom was nice while it lasted, she thought, gripping her staff so hard her fingers ached. She could feel Merrill's thin body beside her in the gloom of the cave, frozen with tension, waiting, listening. The entrance of the cave was too small for more than one person to enter at a time, creating a bottleneck. If they were lucky, they might be able to hold the entrance for a while before they were captured.
"There!" someone shouted above, and her heart skipped a beat, the adrenaline pounding of her blood audible in her ears. She felt Merrill shift, getting into position, the elf's breath quickening. There was the crash and clank of armored bodies moving through the trees up above and then…fading away into the distance. Bethany looked into Merrill's green eyes and found equal confusion there. There was silence in the forest once more.
Then, before relief could set in, they heard another noise outside. Footsteps and a desperate panting for breath. An unfamiliar face appeared at the mouth of the cave. The end of Bethany's staff flashed with fire as she prepared to blow the attacker into the Void, but she checked herself at the last moment as the flames illuminated a young face, eyes wide with alarm.
"Don't shoot, Anders sent me!" the boy said, drawing back slightly, fearfully, "Quick, can I come in before they change their minds and come back?"
~~0~~
"Our apologies, Ser Hawke." One of the dwarves grunted, as Nora quickly strapped on her armor, gathering her gear, "But you can understand our mistake."
"I can't say I blame you." She assured them. Her body ached abysmally from the beatings and the last, lingering effects of the lyrium, but there was no serious harm done. Anders would have a fit when she got back to camp, but he would heal her and her bruises would be yellowing and forgotten by the end of the week.
Once everything had been explained, the men had untied her immediately and apologies had been given all around. For simplicity's sake, she had told them she had once trained as a templar in Kirkwall, but had never taken vows because of her feelings about mages and was now traveling with her family looking for a new place to settle when her sister's child, had wandered off. This seemed to strike a chord with the group, as they, too, were searching for a mage.
"We're looking for our brother." explainedFaelan, the mage. He and his brother Taren, the man with the daggers she had fought the previous night, had come from Kirkwall with their youngest brother after Faelan had managed to escape from the Circle there. The dwarven twins were their employers, a pair of mercenaries rounding up the bounty on darkspawn stragglers, "He started showing magic just before we left. We thought we were safe in Stonebridge, but someone must have found Brann out and reported him. They snatched him right off the street."
"We tracked the templars to the forest before losing the trail. I'm not sure why they would have come here. It's far off course if they were taking him back to the Circle Tower." Taren said, his face hardening, "We're going to get him back."
"Your brother's harder to keep a hold of than a greased nug." Added Bhor, the more gregarious of the dwarf twins, "Wouldn't be surprised to find he'd gotten loose and run circles around those templars. We'll find him, don't you worry."
"We haven't seen any templars so far on our travels…or any young men of your brother's description." Nora said, as she buckled her sword onto her back, and flashed a sympathetic look at the mage and his brother, "My sister is a mage, and she was once taken by the Circle. I know what that is, I hope you find him."
Before they could respond, though, Nora was suddenly conscious of a vague worrying feeling in the back of her brain and then, she felt it. It was like a signal flare, the shockwave rolling through the Veil like the turbulent waves of a passing ship. Magic…very powerful magic…had been cast somewhere nearby and following in its heels, an all too familiar pattern.
"What is it?" Faelan asked, studying her stricken expression.
"My family is in trouble." She breathed, gathering up Merie, and backing away, urgently, "I have to go, I'm sorry."
"We're behind you." Taren answered, quickly, and she turned and raced off through the trees like a madwoman, the image of Anders' beacon burning in her mind like the sun, with the four men pounding along behind her.
~~0~~
Anders had never run so far so fast in his entire life. Grey Warden endurance or not, his lungs felt like they were on fire and his legs felt like they were going to collapse under him at any moment With three templars in full pursuit behind him, though, there was no stopping. He hadn't thought this far ahead. All he'd wanted to do was pull the templars away from the cave so Bethany and Merrill would have a chance. He hadn't really thought about what he would do if they caught him instead.
He didn't see the slope of the creek hollow until it was too late and he fell, tumbling down the slope, over rocks and thorn bushes until a tree stopped his descent with a lung-emptying whoosh of pain. He gasped, floundering as he tried to scramble to his feet. His side hurt abominably, as if he'd broken some ribs, but there was no time to stop and try to heal it now. He righted himself and looked around like a wild animal, trying to figure out which way to go, when he heard a crashing sound like a herd of cattle charging up the stream bank from the left and felt despair overwhelm him. Somehow, they'd managed to outmaneuver him. Taking a deep, painful breath, he decided he was not going to go down without a fight.
Just as he was preparing himself to try and blast the first templar he saw to smithereens, Nora appeared from behind the clump of trees and briars that had hidden his assailants, Merie in her arms, and he nearly dropped his staff in surprise. She skidded to a halt, gaping at him, as four strangers appeared behind her.
"Nora?" he panted, in disbelief.
"Get behind me!" she cried, setting the child down behind her and drawing her sword, as the templars crested the top of the hill.
~~0~~
Nora steeled herself as the templars skidded and slid down the slope towards them, weighing their options as she sensed the dwarven twins fanning out to one side of her, Bhor with his axe and Bheran hefting his hammer threateningly, and Taren moving grimly up to stand with her to the other side. Anders limped quickly to stand behind her with Faelan, who had picked up Merie, the little girl burying her face in the rough cloth of his tunic. Two-to-one were good odds, if it came down to it, but, with Merie involved and Anders already injured, it would be a bloody fight.
The three templars approached them cautiously. Two were young, recruits if she had to guess, the third seemed seasoned. Something did not seem quite right about them, though. She couldn't put her finger on it. There was a look in their faces, a lack of confidence in the way they moved and in the way they were sizing her and the others up that seemed strange compared to other templars she had known.
"Tell your comrades to stand down, serrah." demanded the elder of the men, the leader, sternly, "You are interfering with Templar business."
As she was formulating a response, a thought struck her. Forgive me, Cullen, she thought, drawing herself up to her full height and delivering an imperious look at the lead templar.
"That was precisely what I was about to say to you, Ser." She said, severely, with a biting, military tone. The recruits shifted uncomfortably, and even the commander seemed to be taken aback. He opened his mouth to speak, and she pressed onwards, ignoring him. Summoning up the memory of an old, hard-nosed, steely-eyed captain she had trained under when she and Carver had first joined the Ferelden army years ago, she paced a few steps up and down the forest floor irrately, shooting a glare at each of the templars in turn that conveyed nothing but pure and righteous indignation, "What in the Void do you think you were doing crashing through the forest like a herd of swamp buffalo? Is this how they train templars in Ferelden?"
"We were hunting…" the leader started and Nora stopped in her tracks and turned, fixing him an icy look designed to tell him exactly what she thought about that.
"Hunting?" she said, her tone starting soft, like a thundercloud rumbling before the lightening strike, and building up to an apoplexy of fury, "You call this disgraceful display hunting? Andraste's flaming sword, we'll all be lucky if you haven't alerted every apostate in twenty miles to our location!"
"Now, see here, Serrah…" the leader replied, angrily, but she cut him off.
"That is Knight-Captain Amell of Kirkwall to you, Ser Knight." She interrupted, coldly. The recruits had taken a step back and were staring at the trees, the ground, anything but their leader now. Nora shook her head, disgustedly, "As if we all didn't have enough trouble at the moment. And Knight-Commander Cullen has always spoken highly of the Ferelden Order, as well."
"We were pursuing that mage there!" the commander insisted, exasperated, stabbing a finger at Anders, who had a stunned look on his face. Nora turned, raising an eyebrow at him, desperately hoping he would be able to hold up the ruse.
"Is this true, mage? Were you fleeing from these knights?"
"No…no, of course not, Knight-Captain." Anders sputtered, after a second. "I was…I was just coming back to turn myself in. I'm…terribly sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm ready to go back to Kirkwall now."
"Mmm." She replied, lifting her chin in an appraising expression, "Under the circumstances, I am inclined to be merciful. See that it does not happen again. The next time you try to escape, I will not be lenient."
"Thank you, Knight-Captain."
She turned her gaze back to the templar commander, whose mouth was hanging open in a very un-templar-like manner, and narrowed her eyes.
"There you have it, Ser Knight." She said, "Now, if you have no further business, we have already wasted enough time here. Since this mage has now rightfully come to his senses and this unnecessary and deeply disappointing business is done, I must get my charges to Denerim and set sail for Kirkwall as soon as possible."
"Wait." The commander said, as she turned to leave, "We're searching for a mage child that we were to escort to the Circle at Lake Calenhad. He escaped several days ago. Have you seen him? He would be about fourteen, brown hair, scrawny."
"Yes." She replied, slowly, as if thinking, "Yes, I'm sorry to say that we have. We attempted to capture him peaceably, but the lad...well, may the Maker have mercy on his soul."
"Maker have mercy." The recruits murmured, automatically, in unison. The templar commander sighed, shoulders sagging, and looked back at his men.
"I suppose we're finished here then." He said, sighing, and returned his gaze to Nora, "Maker guide your path, Ser Amell, and grant you safe journey."
"And you also, Ser Knight." She said, bowing her head stiffly. She turned and walked past them, back up the slope of the hollow, hearing her companions fall in behind her.
"That…" Anders said, awed, once they were safely out of earshot of the disappointed templars, "…was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Nora blew out a deep breath she had been holding and shook her head.
"When we find a town, remind me to send Varric a very long thank you letter."
~~0~~
"He said he would come back." Brann assured them, but Bethany had had it up to hear with assurances.
"I don't care, I'm not sitting here like a chicken in a coop one moment longer." She said, firmly, "You two can either come or not, but I'm going to find them."
"Bethany…" Merrill began, pleading, but she jammed her arms through the straps of her pack resolutely and crawled up towards the entrance.
From the light filtering down through the trees, it was running up on early evening. Much of the damp from the rain was gone, and she could see where the templars had disturbed the leaf fall and the underbrush around the ravine. Merrill scrambled out behind her, followed by the boy Brann. Anders and his stupid, bold, half-baked plans, she thought, bitterly, as she stared around, trying to pick a direction. She wasn't even sure which way the river was now.
"We should stay here…" Merrill said, gently, "It will be dark soon."
Bethany turned to deliver a sharp reply, when they heard a call through the trees. They all turned to see a group of people approaching. To her incalculable relief, Anders and Nora were in the front. They both looked the worse for wear, but they were smiling.
"You're back!" Merrill cried, rushing up and hugging Nora and then Anders and then Nora again. Bethany hurried after them and embraced her sister, tearfully, too tightly.
"I thought something had happened to you!" she said, and then smacked Anders hard on the shoulder before hugging him, too, "Don't you ever do anything like that again!"
She stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes before looking around.
"Where's Merie?"
Nora turned, smiling, and looked behind her where Brann was prancing around two men and a pair of dwarves like an excited puppy. One of the men was holding Merie, and, when he turned to look at her, she felt her heart nearly stop in her chest.
"Faelan?" she gasped, and saw the look of stunned recognition in his eyes. A few seconds later, she was in his arms, sobbing incoherently.
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