Chapter 7: Abduction

After what seemed like an age cramped in the carriage, Ellawyn was afraid that her muscles would atrophy. When she brought this concern up to her captors they simply said "nice try," or ignored her. To avoid this she would occasionally stretch and exercise as best she could, shackles permitting. If it came to a fight, she didn't want her legs turning to jelly on her.

She realized that she really shouldn't have expected anything. They didn't even let her out to relieve herself; the most they ever did was hand her a bucket and take it away when she was done. It was lucky that they even allowed her that, but then again they were probably loath to clean up a week or two of shit after they reached the Gallows. At least, that's where she guessed they would take her. Ella had recognized a few templars from her sparse visits to the infamous circle.

The only time anyone said anything was when they thought she was asleep, not that she slept much anymore. She couldn't decide if it would be better or worse to lose her mind and magic closer to home, because that's surely what they were going to do to her. That or just kill her and be done with it, but why go through all of this trouble? Perhaps Meredith herself wanted to do the honors.

She scoffed at the thought, prompting a sneer from her own personal full-time watchdog, Ser Benrick "Shut up, filth."

"I can't even breath now? A shame, I doubt whoever ordered me will want me delivered to them a blue corpse," Ella retorted snidely.

The Templar slammed her gauntleted fist against the bars like she was trying to startle an animal into silence. Hawke did not flinch, and instead simply raised an eyebrow and smirked. What exactly could she do to her? The woman wouldn't scratch her ass without her Captain's affirmative. In response, Ser Benrick twisted her face into a mask of pure hate and continued to unblinkingly stare her down.

"Enjoy the show, then," she said under her breath as let her head fall against the back bars of the cage and looked out at the caravan of Templars riding behind her carriage. She had previously observed that they were not all from the same Circle, and at least two distinct languages were spoken whenever they camped for the night. The one that was not common tongue seemed familiar but for the life of her she could not place it.

Ella inadvertently met the eyes of one Kirkwall crest clad Templar who was not wearing a helmet, and if she didn't know any better there seemed to be a sort of pity in them. The redhead quickly turned his gaze forward and she followed suit, staring past the men and horses to the road behind them, her mind wandering back to a popular and grim topic. After a week or two of travel surely the proximity failsafe had dissolved the barrier. It had to have. It could only reach ten miles. She hoped that Anders wasn't following after her. A force this large could not be taken on by a solitary mage and she wouldn't survive seeing him killed. Because they would kill him, unless Meredith wanted him, too. Neither option was acceptable. For whatever reason the Knight Commander wanted her, be it for Ella, an apostate mage, daring to usurp her as Champion of Kirkwall, or for her Circle and Chantry contrary decisions under the title, she should bear the brunt of the punishment alone.

Another treacherous, impossibly cowardly part of her wanted Anders to come and break her free. It was only human to be afraid, so she wasn't very ashamed of such fantastical thoughts. However she did want to swallow them down, to keep them out of her head for fear that they would come into being. They could not.

That night, like every night, as she was curled up and pretending to sleep, the camp was abuzz with hushed conversations centered around a little over a half dozen campfires. She would often try to focus on a few, but it was difficult sometimes. Then a cluster of familiar words perked her ears towards a discussion on her left, behind her back.

"...Starkhaven does have brothels, but they aren't publicly known like The Blooming Rose. The Vael's have been known to produce a number of pious pricks so it's been made illegal there," a young male voice said resentfully.

"I mean, the crown prince is one but he's a Chantry Brother back home, which means he isn't in charge. What's stopping them from going public now?" another asked.

"Law. No one has bothered to change it with the power struggle they've got going on between the old advisor and the uncle. Too many more important issues on their plate. And keep quiet about it, the Captain thinks we are all 'pious pricks,' as well. Don't forget, Templars are just Brothers with swords who take lyrium to keep the mages in check," a deeper, older voice stated quietly.

The other two men snorted and the first one spoke, "Alright, alright. Besides I don't think we'll be able to stop for long in the city proper. The Captain wants to press on and get the Champion back home."

"I don't blame him, I miss my bed. We can always go to the Rose when we get back," the second man agreed.

'So that confirms it,' Hawke thought to herself. Though her fate still looked bleak, she felt slightly better knowing exactly where they were taking her. At least she could prepare herself for it over the next few days. She still had no idea how close they were to Starkhaven, but the cities were allied neighbors. It wouldn't be long now.

Ahead of her, Ellawyn spotted a figure walking towards the forest. At first she disregarded it as one of the Templars going to take a piss, but then she noticed another humanoid shadow waiting in the area of the woods the Templar was approaching. She turned her head slightly to get a better view. The exchange was short, no longer than a minute, ending with a brief handshake before the two parted, one sneaking further into the woods, the other walking back towards camp, towards her. She shut her eyes to appear asleep, and heard footsteps coming closer at a casual pace. And then a whisper, close and lighter than air, "Soon." Ella opened one eye and by the light of a nearby torch she saw the face of the man who had met eyes with her on the road. With a quick wink, he rummaged in a pack on the carriage to justify him being there and then walked off like nothing happened.

She couldn't quite tell if that was a threat, or something else entirely. Maybe she really was asleep.

Ever since the Circle blackmailed him into Templar service, Carver had had such little contact with his family and friends. Sure, he was allowed to send highly surveilled letters, but that was nowhere near enough, especially after he had only just repaired his long-strained relationship with his sister. As far as his mother and Ella knew, he had signed up to prove himself and push forward into the future, to honor his namesake. It was only partially true, he had toyed with the idea of joining the order before, but that's all it was. That is until he was approached by Ser Varnell, who had threatened to expose his sister's status as an apostate to the Knight Commander, unless he became a Templar. It was what he had been dreading most ever since they had stepped off the boat that brought them to this damned city. His fate was sealed, and he resented it, seethingly. It was not his own, wholehearted decision, but he would be damned if he didn't make the rest of his life his own. So he created a fine illusion of assimilation into their ranks, receiving hardly any infractions notes over the course of his training. To any outward observer he was just another typical, faithful, Andraste-loving grunts. As planned.

It would be grievously incorrect to assume that he wasn't active against injustices enacted by his "brothers" on the mage population however, he was simply stealthy in the punishment he doled out. No one would have suspected that a lad of his height could walk so silently through the dormitories with two buckets of butcher block drainage. Unfortunately, semi-non lethal pranks couldn't fix everything. Other Templars that had joined the order under similar methods of intimidation had sought him out when he arrived and they had formed a sort of kinship. Nearly all were relatives of mages, both within and without the Gallows. They would look out for each other's families as best they could, and worked hard to keep up the appearance of acquaintances around others. If the higher-up's suspected anything, they didn't show it.

This went on for years, their support group evolving into a silent faction of the order as more of their members were promoted to powerful positions. One good thing that came from Carver's time with the Templars was that he came into his own. His exemplary performance brought him up to command a small company of recruits himself as Lieutenant, and within his own private army he became a head of the council, just under Ser Thrask who began the initiative. Their meetings were brief and quiet, and they were careful not to leave a paper trail.

The only time he had seen his sister in those six years was when the city had been sacked by the Arishok and his men; when she was on her way to kill him, an act that would grant her the title of Champion of Kirkwall. As a teenager he would have been jealous of her achievement, scornful even, but now he had his own legacy, however clandestine it was. She had saved the city, and she deserved the accolades. He would never admit it to her in an age, but he was proud.

One night after training as he was heading to his quarters he heard his sister's name being mentioned in one of the rooms he had passed. His curiosity got the better of him and he slowed down to listen further, "...And you're sure? That's a dangerous accusation for them to be throwing around," the voice of his friend Cael warned his companion.

"From the description their Tranquil gave them, it couldn't be anyone else. Right down to that ridiculous eye tattoo," the other man stated.

They were definitely talking about Ella.

"Besides, it's confirmed now. They tried to bring her in and she used magic to get away. One minute the they were chasing her down to the docks, the next they saw some sort of bird flying out of a cloud where she should have been. If that's not blood magic I'll eat my socks."

'I hope you like socks, then,' Carver thought to himself. He knew it wasn't, his sisters had told him about that particular trick and how they did it. That and their father would never teach the girls blood magic, he had warned them all about its dangers. Their ignorance on the subject could put her on their list of wanted maleficar, but more important to him, though, was the fact that it helped Ella escaped them.

Cael sucked his teeth, "Well, they didn't catch her, by whatever means. What did the Knight Captain have to say about it?"

"It went over him to the Knight Commander, she's had an interest in this from the first word. She issued a full scale manhunt, it's being put together as we speak," the other man reported, perhaps too enthusiastically, "I'm going to volunteer, we'll find the bitch for sure. The resistance will crumble."

There was a pause before his friend spoke again, "Keep me involved, Jon, I might throw my name in as well. Has a lead Lieutenant been assigned yet?"

"So far it's been Ser Kellon, but this may become a multi-regiment operation. If Ser Lauryn wins the bid, we'll both have a better chance to follow him," his fellow recruit mused.

"Let's hope so," Cael said dryly, "I need to get back to this letter, but thank you for letting me know."

It seemed like their conversation was coming to an end, so Carver went to hide behind one of the larger tapestries covering a set of pillars. He could almost hear his heart pounding; they were still pursuing her, and assuming they believed her to be the leader of the resistance they were going to do more than lock her up if they caught her. The de-facto leader, Anders, had pretty much fallen under the Circle's radar. Few Templars even met the mage, and those that had simply assumed he was one of the Champion's companions, nothing more. Something had happened, a Tranquil had seen her, and that is all they cared about. He needed to speak with Cael. Soon enough he heard a set of brisk footsteps pass his hiding place and once they had retreated far enough around the corner, he came out and walked into the dorm.

"What's going on?" the loaded question was simple enough, but luckily his friend understood his meaning.

Still sitting, he replied, "Your sister was spotted at the rear of a group of escaping mages last night. They utilized the third north tunnel, one of the few they weren't aware of until now, so naturally it's been blocked up. Jon was just telling me about that, and the hubbub and rumors that followed, but you being you, I figured you've already gathered that."

A sobering realization hit him, "They aren't going to let me come, even if I ask."

At last the redhead stood up from his desk and placed a hand on Carver's shoulder "No, but what else are friends for?" he winked.

Author's Note: Hey all! I know it has been a long, LONG time since I last updated, but between college and my massive block, I finally have some free time after work to work on some of my pet projects. The coming chapters may not be rapid fire, but they will come.

I had originally wrote this chapter much differently and a sizeable chunk of it got lost via. my phone shitting the bed before I could transfer all of my notes to my computer, as that was how I wrote before. But I eventually got smart and was introduced to Google Drive docs after my depression at that loss faded. Frankly I think this was a better segway than the first edition, and I hope you enjoy it too! Thank you all for your unwilling patience with me.