The fog lifted from her mind, like it always did, and Lorelai found herself in darkness. She couldn't remember making camp for the night, or any of their travel for the day. The last thing she could recall was the morning meal. Trees loomed overhead, reaching their boughs to the star-speckled sky. The forest they were in was nondescript, common. They could be anywhere; right outside of Denerim...or nearing the Frostback Mountains.

Tears stung her eyes, and Lorelai bit her lip to stop its trembling as the disorientation threatened to overwhelm her. She took a deep, shaking breath and blew it out slowly. It calmed her a bit, and the tears retreated.

A soft nicker caught her attention, and she turned her head to the horses tied up nearby. To look at them, and see only what was to be seen with her eyes, almost brought the tears back with a vengeance. It made her feel empty without the touch of their hearts, and it compounded the sense of being lost in her own lands by a hundredfold.

She wrapped her arms around her chest tightly, trying to hold in the pain from so many hurts, and she winced. Her breasts throbbed with the pressure she'd subjected them to. The pain seemed to spread throughout her whole body, reminding her how much she physically ached. It seemed Andraste granted small blessings; if these bastards were making her walk instead of ride, she would've been in serious trouble. As it was, the fatigue she felt was easily hidden. There wasn't much they made her do to exert herself.

Her hand slid down to the bulge in her belly, and she allowed herself a rueful smile. As she had known from the beginning, time had told whether her dream of Morrigan had been true or just wishful thinking. Whatever miracle the witch and her god-child had worked, whatever other blessings Andraste had seen fit to bestow...it could not be denied now that Lorelai was pregnant.

The loose fitting clothes and dresses she had asked for what seemed like a lifetime ago were doing their job adequately. Her condition remained hidden. As long as she behaved herself, remained as upright in the saddle as she possibly could, there was no reason for any of the men to touch her stomach. Even if they did, she supposed she could explain it away. After all, her belly wasn't all that big.

She fretted about when it would become too big to explain away. But it didn't help to think about that now. One day at a time.

Lorelai turned and rubbed her cheek against the dirt that was her pillow. Sometimes, as she drifted off into troubled sleep, she could break through the clouds in her mind to bring up images of Alistair. On the occasions it could be done, it brought a rush of comfort that felt almost too good to be allowed.

She had trained her Wardens well. They had most certainly discovered that she'd been missing. They would've taken steps to find her. One of those steps definitely would've been to inform Alistair. She knew he would find her. Though she was at loathe to admit it, her current circumstances left her very nearly helpless. Bettering her situation on her own was not an option. Adding the life growing inside her to the mix just made it even more impossible.

Lorelai, Queen of Ferelden and Warden-Commander, gritted her teeth. Damsel in distress was never a role she thought she'd be cast in. Andraste, how it mad her wild with anger.

Taking another deep breath, she pushed the rage down. She'd never get an image of Alistair if she was all worked up. Blocking out her trembling limbs and the keening loss of the sense of all the animals around her made it difficult enough. Anger would not help the proceedings.

Alistair closed the door, having finally ushered out the last of their thrilled companions. The echoes of congratulations still rang in Lorelai's ears as he turned to face her. Leaning back against the door wearily, his amber eyes stared at her. They were alone, for the first time in...ever. Truly, totally, utterly alone.

"Are you all right, dear heart?" she asked, straining for as much normalcy as possible. After all, what was going on that wasn't normal? He'd only just executed Loghain, and she'd only just placed him, and herself, on the throne of Ferelden. Oh yes, and locked the pair of them in marriage in front of the entire Landsmeet. Nothing out of the ordinary, at all.

"Let's start with a less complicated question," he answered, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to thwack against the door.

Her heart began to boom louder than normal, filling her face with enough blood to make her feel like it was on fire. "I know I kind of...surprised you with all of that. I apologize."

Opening his eyes, he stared at her like she'd grown two more heads. "'Kind of'?" he echoed.

Despite her anxiety, his tone made her laugh. "OK, more like totally."

"More appropriate descriptor. Thank you," he said, the beginnings of a smile tugging on his lips. It faded too quickly. "I don't know that I can do this."

"Which part?" Lorelai tried to keep the edge from her voice, but it was challenging. Panic will do that to a girl. "The 'marry me' part, or the King part?"

"Are you...being thick on purpose?" he demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?" Her voice had risen a few octaves at the semi-insult.

"Because," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "for you to think I'm concerned about the 'marry you' part, you're either playing dumb or you've suffered a severe head injury. You know damn well that I love you so much I can't imagine being without you."

Lorelai felt frozen between being irritated at his choice of wording...and succumbing to the warmth that filled her at his last statement. She choose a middle ground, walking towards him resolutely but putting all her love for him in a dazzling smile. "We can do it."

His mouth worked a few times, but no words came out. He reached out and pulled her to him, pressing her against his armored chest. With a gauntleted hand, he tilted her chin up. "You promise not to run off and leave me to figure this out alone?"

She laughed. "Promise."

"Swear?"

"Pinkie swear." Wiggling one of her hands free from his hold, she offered her littlest finger to him. He extended his fingers, and wrapped his pinkie around hers. Her finger looked impossibly small, hooked in his metal-enclosed one. Leaning her head forward, she kissed her thumb, just like she and Fergus used to do when they were children. Alistair mirrored her, his eyes dancing with amusement, pushing away the panic that had been there.

"Well, now that it's a pinkie swear, I know you're trapped," he said.

"Of course. Only the most dastardly villain breaks a pinkie swear," she agreed solemnly.

"I do wish you have let me propose to you."

"Sorry. There wasn't time."

"I know. I'll just have to do it now, then, won't I?" Releasing her, he pushed her back gently until he had room to get on bended knee at her feet. His armor made quite the racket. He took her hands and whispered, "Lorelai Cousland, would you do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband?"

It was so silly, seeing as she'd already cemented their marriage in front of all the nobles, but she couldn't stop the two girlish tears that rolled down her cheeks. "Yes, Alistair Theirin, I can think of nothing more wonderful than to be your wife."

Getting to his feet in boyish excitement, an excellent partner to her girlish reaction, he took her face in her hands and kissed her soundly.

Ah, what a fantastic memory to manage to break through the fog. The kiss at the end felt so real, so tangible, she could almost fool herself into thinking it was real. A smile curled her lips, and her body shifted against the ground.

Foreign hands slid up her legs in filthy invasion.

Lorelai's eyes snapped open, but she could see nothing in the darkness. She sensed the figure next to her, even though she couldn't see its shape. The hands continued their unwelcome journey, passing over her knees and up her thighs now.

She inhaled, a powerful scream ready at the back of her throat. One of the intruding hands pressed itself against her mouth strongly, driving her head back into the dirt. Struggling weakly, she tried to twist her head free, but her drug-hampered limbs would not obey.

The other hand fumbled at her hobble, untying the knots after a few moments. Once her ankles were free, she was hauled to her feet. One hand still clamped firmly across her lips, the other arm slung her against the figure's hip. She was lifted off her feet and dragged away from the camp.

About thirty feet away, Lorelai was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground. At the last moment, she made sure to twist her body, taking the impact with her hip. A brief shudder ran through her at the thought of taking that fall with her stomach.

She was grabbed roughly on the shoulder, and twisted until she faced the shadow who'd brought her here.

"If you so much as whimper, I'll slit your throat," a man's voice growled softly.

The feeling of violence oozing through the darkness was so powerful, even if she'd wanted to scream, her throat constricted painfully in self-preservation. Apparently, her body wasn't taking any chances on her attempting some heroics.

"I've had my fill of being kept away from such a fine woman as yourself," he continued. She felt his hands begin sliding up her legs again. "We'll keep tonight our little secret, hmm?"

Bile rose up in her throat as her skin shivered with revulsion. Oh, Andraste, please. No, not this. Not this on top of everything else that had been dealt her.

A cynical voice snorted in her mind, and wondered how this hadn't happened already. It was a fairly logical part of being kidnapped, wasn't it?

No. She couldn't bear this man's alien, disgusting caresses. She'd die before she'd let him take her-

She would do no such thing, for it wasn't just herself she was living for anymore.

Tears fell from her eyes as she squeezed them shut. Laying back against the dirt, she pressed her lips together tightly at the vile feel of his lips on the inside of her thigh. Lorelai desperately tried to hold onto her earlier memory of Alistair, tried to be somewhere else.

Without warning, the man was yanked off her and thrown to the side.

"How dare you?" growled another voice, standing over her. "To a woman such as she?" She knew this voice well: it was the leader, Jacob's murderer.

Her attacker spat, and muttered darkly, "This plan is stupid. We're risking capture-"

"It's a bit late for you to voice your disagreement with the plan, isn't it? Not that that has anything to do with the atrocity you were about to commit!" interrupted the leader.

"We can do what we like with her. She's ours! No one has even come for her yet. It's ridiculous to cling to your morals at a time like this!"

There was a rustle of movement, the quiet snick of steel sliding into the open...and the muted squelch of that steel burrowing through flesh. A blood-filled cough rent the air. "Morals are what keep us men in times like this, and separate us from the barbarians," the leader snarled.

His voice had moved to where her attacker's voice had been coming from. It took Lorelai's mind several seconds to put all the pieces together. The leader had killed one of his own men. In defense of her honor, no less.

She cautioned herself not to be hasty. It was far more likely he'd killed the man for disobedience or for questioning his ethics. Still, instinct seemed firmly convinced it had been for her.

Her attacker's body fell to the ground solidly. Before she could even take another breath, the leader was by her side. "Are you all right, my lady?" he asked.

For a moment, she couldn't speak. "Yes," she finally said.

"Forgive me. If I'd have thought even for an instant that any of my men harbored such base intentions, they would not be with me. That is not the kind of man I am," he whispered fervently.

"Of...course not," Lorelai agreed, confused at the passion in his voice.

"Are you certain he didn't injure you?"

"Yes. He just...threw me about...a bit," she assured him.

In the darkness, he took her hand. "Let me lead you back to camp." He pulled her gently to her feet. His arm circled her shoulders protectively as they walked. "Rest assured, my lady, tomorrow I will make an example of him to the rest. In case anyone else has such foul ideas."

She didn't answer him, and instead concentrated on not stumbling. What was she supposed to say, anyway? This man's solicitous concern was mind-boggling, to say the least. He had kidnapped her, kept her drugged nearly senseless, had told her he intended to demand something from Alistair for her safe return...and now he'd killed one of his band for trying to rape her.

They reached camp, and she turned to look up at him. He towered over her, taller than Alistair. A little moonlight would've gone a long way to allowing her to see his face, but there was no moon tonight. She was sure she'd seen his face in the daylight, but her lucid periods never allowed her to hold onto that piece of information.

"If it would not offend you, my lady Cousland, perhaps you should sleep near me from now on. I can ensure your safety this way."

She seized upon the anger that flashed through her, allowing it to draw her up a bit taller. "That is not...my last name."

He sighed, as if dealing with an annoying child. "But it should be, my lady." With that, he plunked her down firmly next to his bedroll. Taking advantage of her disoriented and uncoordinated limbs, he crossed the camp to get her hobble. He tied her ankles to it expertly, then settled down nearby. "Goodnight."

Despite his rescue and his seemingly sincere concern, Lorelai simply glared at where his voice had come from. Laying down grudgingly, she felt her mind clicking as fast as the drug would allow it to. A clue such as what the leader had said was apparently too interesting for the fog in her brain to combat. But it should be, my lady.

What in Andraste's name did that mean?


Evil, foul, winged, disgusting-

"Shale, don't!" Wynne's voice, clear like diamond. "Don't hurt them."

Vile, taloned, despicable, wretched-

"Come now, step back." Wynne again, now her voice taking on other diamond qualities, as it became unyielding. Hard. "They're on the ground, see? They can't...make a mess from down there."

Oh, but they would. They bobbed their naked, ruby heads. Shuffled on onyx talons. Glared with dead eyes that matched their claws. They were too close. Mockingly close. Tortuously close. One quick stomp (well, two stomps) and their eyes would stop glaring.

"Shale, stop. They are Lorelai's."

Lorelai. She who, with her smoked topaz hair and pearl flesh, had brought freedom. She who had stood by Cairdin's side in the Deep Roads. She who had gone to Cadash Thaig, and had assisted in banishing the cloud that had enveloped the past, the memories.

"Here, let me get the messages." Wynne scurried forward without hesitation, folding her squishy mortal body nearly in half. "Oh, dear," she said quietly as she read the paper. "We're needed, back in Ferelden."

"I had thought to continue searching."

"We will, but first we have to help out friends," Wynne insisted, eyes sharp as chips of flint. "I know it's been a long journey, but it will have to be put on hold. This is what friends do for each other."

"Indeed?"

"That disdainful tone is not helping, Shale," Wynne said, narrowing her flint-chip eyes. "When we find the answer, the way to give you a mortal form, I'm sure it will help if you're already accustomed to behaving as we mortals do. Mortals help their friends...especially when they've agreed to do so on rooftops of castles."

"Its humor is most unamusing."

"And I thought we were done with all that 'it' business, too." Wynne shook her head and tsked. "We'll write back, tell them not to wait for us. You'll have to go on alone, I'll only slow you down. With my pesky human needs for sleeping and eating."

"I'm to traipse back through this land of humans alone?"

One of Wynne's eyebrows twitched. "You, mighty Shale of Cadash Thaig, wouldn't be concerned about traveling alone...would you?"

"Of course not, but I am unfamiliar with these lands. I have followed you here, and now I am expected to make it back to Ferelden. Not to mention that a golem traveling without a human to invent convenient excuses could result in many crushed mortal skulls."

Wynne smiled. "I'm sure you'll find a way to avoid that, dear. You know Lorelai doesn't approve of you crushing skulls."

"No."

"Just go south, Shale. When you come to the Waking Sea, take a ship to Denerim."

"It feels that there is any ship captain willing to take me on board?"

Wynne's smile grew bigger. "Then you'll have to take a page from Lorelai's book and be very persuasive, won't you?" She stared hard, tilting her head to the side. "Unless, of course, you wish to abandon our friends in their time of need."

"Of course not. I'll go at once...Wise One."