Chapter 9: Caught in the Crossfire

A cold, clammy sweat lay over Leone's flesh as they passed the guards of Fen'Harel near the ruin entrance and descended into a cavernous tomb dimly lit by veilfire. Deidre led the way, her hair echoing the vibrant green of the fire and her staff lightly tapping the stone stairs as she walked. None of the guards even turned their heads as the small entourage passed by and Leone awkwardly clambered behind with her chains clanking before her.

Despite their long, slow descent into the massive room of stone Leone was shocked as they reached the bottom to discover that while they had walked into the mountain essentially – a large hole must have been blown into the peak of the mountain overhead. For the sky with its brilliantly twinkling stars sparsely hidden by traces of fog was visible to her. Even the moon could be seen above them, shedding light that was a trace warmer than the sickly hue of veilfire. Leone's heart beat heavily as they entered and she saw the horde of covered warriors across from them – all elves.

While a few didn't wear a hood, a majority of them did with their faces obscured and their leathers fitting tightly to their lithe bodies. Some of them wore heavier armor to protect their bodies as she had just before her capture but as a group they all wore capes of forest green. In the center of the room in front of the Fen'Harel soldiers and standing over a delicate mosaic to Sylaise was a tall man. His face hidden by the shadow of his cape and his armor glinting beneath it. He held a staff in his right hand and Leone detected a scowl on his wide mouth. Solas?

Deidre continued without missing a beat in her steps and halted a few feet from the obvious leader of the group. The other members of her troupe stopped in their steps and the guards kept close to Leone as she held her breath, nerves tingling.

"Good evening, Lord Fen'Harel," Deidre said, bowing her head lightly, "I've been waiting to meet with you and present my findings." Her voice was husky and charismatic, a sweet smile on her face as she spoke. "I believe you'll be pleased."

The man did not smile back as he replied, "Lord Fen'Harel could not make it. He asked me to come in his stead. Our lord is busy with many more pressing matters to consult." His face did not attempt to soften his words and his stature was still stiff. Deidre did not frown, but Leone noticed a slight twitch of her fingers on her staff as she attempted to continue smiling.

"I sent Fen'Harel word…through no small effort on my part, I might add, that I had located and procured one of the great foci. It would be a momentous asset to him if rumors are to be true," she stated, "Or are the rumors wrong? Does the great Fen'Harel have no need for these foci?"

"The rumors are not wrong," the elf replied, but his tone continued to be monotonous and nearly bored. Just as Deidre's smile began to warm once more, the representative for Fen'Harel froze her smile into ice as he asked her, "Our own sources tell us it was stolen from you of late? Is that rumor also true?" His own frown deepened minutely and Deidre's hand clasped her staff.

"There is truth to that rumor."

"Then what business do you even have with our savior? Some elf who's whored her soul and morals to the Tevinter Magisters. You dark to think presenting Fen'Harel with a gift would allow you to join? I think you hold yourself far too high in regard," he said and his tone slightly betrayed a hint of annoyance and anger. "We will be leaving. Now."

As he turned to go, Deidre shouted out, "I have something greater!" but the leader ignored her and the other elves garbed in the armor of Fen'Harel's army began to filter out of the room. "Wait!" Even then they ignored her and in frustration the Magister cast a spell of blazing fire blocking their exit. It did not burn a single person but blocked their way and instantly swords were drawn as arrows were notched. "Look!" she grabbed the wrist of the manacled Leone and using her strength she threw her before the encroaching and enraged elf leader. His hood flew back now to reveal a pale face of scars and blue eyes similar to Deidre. Caught off guard Leone froze before she felt the shackles fall off. Deidre had cast the enchantment to unlock the chains and just as the leader slashed downward towards her she moved.

"What the hell?" he said, his blade going through air and he faltered. Some strange elf had stood before him but a breath ago and as he stood he made eye contact with the irritating blonde Magister.

"See," the woman quipped and nodded behind him as she continued to hold up a barrier spell around herself. Turning he saw the figure who had been thrown at him. She had disappeared so suddenly only to reappear behind him? How?

"Hold!" he shouted and while their weapons were still drawn, their movements had stopped. He looked at this...tattooed elf. He was speechless, the marks on her body weren't like the Dalish he had seen, these were...something strange and unknown to him. Her eyes were wide in shock and a crimson he had not seen in an elf before. The tattoos glowed and cast an eerie air about the woman as he then noted the shackles on her limbs and throat. Her chains were split now so she could move freely but the weight of the manacles remained. His eyes narrowed, was this woman a slave?

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked Deidre, stepping back to keep his eyes on both women. Magic had died in the room so it went back to a still, quiet silent save for their breathing and shifting wind.

"I have completed a rare treatment. It permits elves who have lost their touch with the Fade to regain an attachment and establish a connection. It also empowers them with extraordinary skills. For example…," she lifted her own staff this time and cast a fireball towards Leone. Frozen in place by Deidre's cursed willpower Leone took in the magic as it dissipated over her skin and diminished, causing a mild burning sensation.

While the leader was silent Deidre didn't miss the incredibly soft and nearly imperceptible gasp of a few of the soldiers near the stairs. "I do believe Fen'Harel would be most interested in this knowledge. Wouldn't you?" she teased, planting a hand on her hip and dropping any pretense of humility.

The scarred elf was silent but Leone read his features. He might have been surprised at first, but she saw his small eyes zone in on the shackles. Her scars. His frown had returned with ferocity but for some time he said nothing. "Come, pet," Deidre summoned Leone to her side and stiffly she returned. She began kneeling at the Magister's side. "What have you to say?" her voice turned irritable as she waited and then the leader sheathed his sword.

"Step down, Jeole," a voice spoke out and Deidre's entourage looked up in surprise. Further in the tomb a statue of Sylvaise had been built. Trees and vines surrounding her. On the left side a figure came forward, its face shrouded in the dark and hidden by the silky hood covering its head. Dust shifted in the air like specks around it and leaves shuffled beneath its feet.

Leone didn't need to see the face though, she had heard the voice. She recognized exactly who it was.

Her heart dropped and shame at her situation filled her soul.

"Who are you?" Deidre asked, her power casting a spell in preparation.

"Who do you think I am?" the figure continued and came forward, pushing the hood down to reveal a lightly freckled face of pale flesh. Large, soft lips were set in a line and his dark brows were furrowed beneath a slight scar on his forehead. The moon shone on his bare scalp creating a slight halo effect. Before Deidre could react his eyes shimmered fiercely with light and a gasp behind her caused her to turn.

One of her mages had been changed into stone, cursed for eternity. Diedre quickly summoned a barrier and forced Leone to stand before her, "You are Fen'Harel."

His lips pulled against his teeth in a snarl as his head tilted back to look down on her.

"What is this?" she asked, confusion lacing her voice. Leone tried to fight back against the lyrium in her veins demanding her to guard Diedre. It burned and Leone finally brought herself to look into his eyes as she took a defensive stance in little more than rags as her armor. Staring at his face she could see nothing but the brewing, aggressive magic within his eyes.

"I might ask the same thing? What do you think you are doing?" he asked, his voice tightly contained in a manner Leone had not heard since they had helped his spirit friend in the Exalted Plains.

"I came to help you, my lord. This thief!" she started, her voice shrieking as she pointed to Leone, "This THIEF stole the foci I intended to share with you! For the better of our people!" Her voice increased to a shrill as she continued, "When it was stolen I found another opportunity! I would help her to change the future of the people. With you! By integrating the knowledge that I have. Then we could create elves who are not separate from the Fade...even if they are not born mages! People who are strong enough to survive the future we all desire for the elves!" Deidre was overwhelmed and the weapons had come out again. Her hands wildly gesticulating around her. "We could bring the elven empire back to its former glory!"

"What Tevinter Magister would know about elven glory?" he asked, and Leone felt herself stiffen in preparation. With shock Leone realized Deidre intended to use her against her former lover.

"Particularly one who enslaves their own kind?" he hissed.

Deidre realized suddenly she was not going to be leaving this ruin easy. Not everyone sought power ruthlessly in the manner she did. She had misunderstood how this trickster operated.

"Not only an elf – do you know who this elf is!?" his tone lost its smooth threat and capitulated to a full out furious yell. Before she could blink Leone felt her body push forward, against her will, and somehow she had gotten her hand on a decrepit sword on the ground. Shouts and yells could be heard behind her as she lashed out at Solas.

Despite being a mage and not a warrior, he was strong. With ease he was blocking her attacks and trying to disarm her. She heard bangs and the explosion of magic as the fight behind her began, but suddenly her body froze as Solas held off her recent swipe with his staff. He tried an ice spell, to hold her feet but her body shifted and disappeared, only to apparate at his side.

His composed features revealed nothing, but he stopped moving, and Leone felt something strange within her. Solas's eyes had that silver storm encapsulating them again. Would he turn her to stone as well? A few seconds passed with only the clash of steel reverberating in her ears as she zoned out. Suddenly her body felt on fire as if it was boiling and pain arced through her core. So he had not turned her to stone...yet...

She cried out and suddenly she felt a strong pull over her being, similar to the pull Deidre had been using but somehow different and eliciting a new pain.

"What are you doing?" she heard Deidre cry out and Leone looked over to see the woman kneeling. Her two guards were wounded. The woman kept some of the soldiers at bay with more fire and flaming walls. Her smooth bun was half burnt to a crisp and her face speckled with blood. At her side, her other mage was casting barrier and healing without stopping, its body shaking. Angrily the Magister summoned the last vestiges of her power.

"Get over here now!" she screamed and Leone felt her body forced back to the woman instantly, but at the last few feet another force pulled on her. The Magister coughed up blood as she fought to stand, jumping up to grab Leone by the large collar shackle. Her pale fingers were trembling and blood dripped down her chin and gown. She held Leone down so that the tanned elf's head was near her thighs.

"You will let us leave!" Deidre said, another weak cough spilling more blood out of her lips. "Or I will take this one with us in death!" she threatened, drawing a thin dagger from a pocket of her gown. It was slender and long, but she held it far steadier than her trembling might have suggested. She ripped Leone up from the ground, purposely thrusting her hand beneath the loose collar to tighten it on Leone's neck as she brought the dagger to her pinched throat. Leone's hands twitched, trying to move against Deidre's will.

"Why is that?" Solas asked, his eyes clearing to their usual hue. It did nothing to lessen his imposing form as he still was bent forward with staff in hand and left hand flexed for a spell.

"I know much about the apostate that traveled with the Herald. Including his strange talisman," the Magister said bitterly and with her hand around Leone she gestured to one of her guards. The guard reached into his belt pouch and tossed out a bundle to the elf god. It clattered near his feet but Solas didn't look down. Leone did. It was the jawbone necklace. "I wasn't sure what it meant with this one. But I'm fairly certain now." A glint of sinister hope shimmered in her eyes. Only one eye was visible behind Leone's drained face held before her.

Solas was silent.

Seconds ticked by and ever so slowly he relaxed his limbs back. His form was tense but no longer threatening to the coughing Magister. Her weakened mage assistant nearly collapsed and knelt on the floor gasping. Both guards of hers leaned on their swords surrounded by a semi-circle of the soldiers of Fen'Harel. His head tilted back as he observed her, unable to remove the scowl on his face.

"You may go," he stated and the Magister tightened her grip on Leone. A snap of Deidre's controlling power lashing out through Leone's body as she removed her hand from under the collar to simply grip it. Leone grunted from the pain the power lashing caused, not noticing that Deidre had locked eyes with Solas in that moment and brought the dagger deeper into Leone's neck.

"I will release her when we are safe," Deidre warned him as her entourage followed her out. Her eyes on the man staring at her. He waved his left hand for the guards to move for her and she drug Leone slowly along. Deidre's guards went first, paving a way and her mage was nearby holding onto her gown to lead her safely through the crowd as she focused on controlling Leone completely.

It didn't matter though.

Deidre's assistant had been weakened by expending all his magic to protect her. Halfway up the stairs he suddenly tripped on step. Caught off guard by the weight of his hand pulling her, Deidre lost hold just the tiniest bit on the dagger and Leone. Abruptly the dagger cut sharply against Leone's collarbone causing a fan of blood to spray out.

Before she could regain footing, Solas had Fade Stepped close to her and cast Winter's Grasp as the Magister's guards abandoned her to the elves for their own safety. A bit of frost touched the flesh of Leone as she was freed of Deidre's control momentarily. The ruby-colored tattoos flashed and again the bit of magic was absorbed by her flesh. Her hands went out as she fell and crashed to the floor. Every vein in her body burned as she was released and then the pain focused to the slash on her collar, blood seeping and covering her front. She looked down. Why was she bleeding so much? Wasn't it just a cut?

Her mind felt giddy and her vision blurred as she thought – perhaps if she was wearing more than rags she'd be better protected. Even kneeling her tunnel vision increased so she didn't hear the scream Deidre emitted as Solas smashed her frozen body with his staff. Turning her head took much effort and Leone noted that Jeole had knocked the last member of Deidre's entourage roughly on the scalp with the butt of his sword. The mage collapsed, completely unconscious.

Solas turned to face Leone, his target defeated and no longer a threat. He masked his feelings well and made sure the soldiers could not detect a change. However – even in hardening himself to that extent his soldiers, such as Jeole, had been with him too long not to read the subtle body language. So they did not miss the sudden, brief flash of pain in his eyes or the way his brows rose ever so slightly.

He had not seen her in years and now...wait…

Solas hurried to kneel down beside her. Something was off and he could smell it in the air. Detect it in the way those luminescent orbs gazed at him as if heavily drugged. Her hands shuffled awkwardly and as he crouched towards her she attempted to stand. Limp hands barely cleared her own knees bent in a crouch before she slumped over and passed out on the weathered ground.

Solas moved quickly, casting a spell to remove any curses and threats upon her person. That damned dagger had been small but even he noted the excessive bleeding. None of his soldiers moved or spoke, they just watched as he hurriedly cast spell after spell in succession with flashes of white and bursts of green illuminating his flesh. His back was turned so they didn't see much beyond this. Oh – and the small pool of blood left by the wounded woman he worked on.

Jeole dismissed many of the soldiers silently with a harsh look so with not a single sound they disappeared as if slithering in the darkness. Solas had successfully removed the poison and healed the visible damage done by the dagger. It did not change the amount of blood loss she had already suffered.

"You all may go," he ordered as soon as he could detect Leone was breathing...well enough for the moment. He didn't trust that cursed Magister not to have left more tricks behind from this...this torture. Solas glanced around when he recognized the fading of Jeole's steps before gazing down at Leone.

It had been such a long, desparate time since he had held her. Even with the portraits he drew he had feared he might forget her face. Now, she lay here. A selfish part of him was...delighted...but quickly he was ashamed of himself. She lay here, alright. Barely alive and clearly some experimental slave for that delusional Magister. His fingers touched the dull, ruby-colored tattoos littering her body and felt the gnarled scarring beneath. It made him freeze and he traced one of the scars realizing that each bit of the tattoo overlaid a thick scar. Alone he brought her close to his chest and tears filled his eyes.

I don't think I can remove these marks, he thought, as he held her tight. His eyes closed and faintly under the smell of blood and sweat intermingling in her hair he detected the fine earthy scent she always had. Guiltily he took one last moment, his eyes closed, to hold her this way.

When he next opened them he shuffled their bodies around so that he was facing the statue of Sylvaise that he had appeared beside. Then, as his knee dug into the ground, he rested his staff against his back and lifted Leone as softly as possible against his chest.

Jeole stood in the furthest shadow from Fen'Harel, barely able to see the god. The moonlight from the hole in the mountain created harsh contrasts on the body of the elf and the woman he held. Her gray hair escaped from the clutches of her protector and spilled over. With a final peek the loyal soldier left.

Without a glance back, whether Solas was aware of the remaining watcher or not, he made his way towards the statue and the left side. Upon closing in on the wall near it, a thick thatch of vines covered a slender hole in the wall hidden from view. Gingerly, Solas turned his body to the side to shuffle in and cautiously made his way through. Within a small chamber filled with an assortment of chests – some raided and some not – he chanted out a few words.

A shaft of light flashed in the right corner and a circle of runes appeared beneath it as a large mirror came into view. Expansive and elaborate it shone brilliantly among the worn treasures. The glass of the mirror seemed to shift and sway. Without hesitation Solas made his way to the mirror and walked through. The moment his entire body disappeared the mirror seemed to flicker like an illusion. Then it ceased to exist altogether to the common eye.

Appearing in a dark forest Solas made use of magic and agility to cover ground as swiftly as possible to the nearest haven he had built. This location was not secure enough to stay for long, mainly meant as a diversion, if another attempted to trace or follow him. Thus, it was also liable for one too curious to find themselves in a dangerous situation.

Deeper within the brooding forest a soft rain began to fall, first as speckles of spit on Solas's garments which he hardly noticed. Luckily within a few more rushed steps his haven was in sight. His steps slowed as through the thickest brush and expansive, gigantic trees the steep slop of a mottled, worn hill came into view. Not nearly tall enough to reach the skies like a mountain it was still substantial and Solas took note of a deep mark dug into the side of the hill wall. He bent low, taking care to pull the figure who had begun to move in his arms tighter as he crouched. Tenderly he shuffled behind a nearby tree brimming with soaked leaves. This time there truly was no one to see as his body moved through the solid rock without any sign of magic.

Solas moved swiftly, casting a quick spell to light some sparse candles arranged within small crevices of the cave wall. It was a tiny space that was just large enough for perhaps four people to lay flat on the cave floor with their arms not spread. Fresh air did flow into the cave for the solid wall was only an enchantment permitting Solas to cross through. He straightened up once he had passed a few inches inside, he had not altered the natural entrance of the cave and it was half a foot shorter than him but increased height further in. A basic wooden desk with a few shelves and drawers contained herbs, poultices, bandages and potions of all assortments. Beside it was a worn stool covered by a soft, threadbare blanket that had seen better days. Back in the furthest corner was a sturdy cot fitted with a plush quilt and tossed pillows at the head. His only alteration to the natural cave was near the entrance a small hole he had dug to build a tiny fire to steam food and the like.

For now he grabbed the threadbare blanket from his stool and threw it upon the bed. He wanted to clean it after he treated her for whatever ailments the Magister had inflicted on her body. That way she may rest on the cot comfortably and not soaked in sweat or blood. A small groan began to escape her lips as he lay her down, pulling his arms from under her smoothly. Not quite opening her eyes were fluttering, the whites of the them rolling up towards him.

First, he discarded his cloak, tossing it on the stool where the blanket had been and wiped his damp hands over his trousers. She barely had any clothes on so he wouldn't touch that for now. Waving his hands over her body he assessed the damage, noting that the poison had left her body as well as the bleeding curse. Quite the dagger, he thought angrily, noting the rapid beat of her heart and developing fever. For all intents and purposes, she was not in danger of a curse, poison or wound, but needed treatment and rest. The tension, agitation, weakness and illness ensnaring her was an encapsulation of the abuse, torture and stress she had withstood.

There was little else he could do at this time until she woke. Another healing spell confirmed her wounds were sealed. The skin was rapidly strengthening against the previously open cuts and he felt the scars on her arm soften slightly as he cast the spell.

Rapid movements and the fluttering of her eyes relaxed so the whites of her eyes were no longer roiling beneath the lids. She stilled and relaxed into the threadbare blanket. At that he turned away to prepare a small fire. He would try to wash off the blood and examine these new scars that cursed elf had placed on his vhenan.

Just as he grabbed a rather petite basin and began to head outside for fresh water he felt something.

Not on his body.

More like a he just had a feeling.

"Solas?" he heard and his heart snapped. He did not answer. Just continued on and out of the cave into the rain so he did not see her slightly open eyes that had been staring at his back. Leone's eyes couldn't be kept open and she fell back into unconsciousness with ease.

With that he stood outside. A deep, thick unease settling in his belly and an even thicker frown on his features. His own eyes were closed as well. All he could think of was how similar it all was to that meeting so many years ago.

Some unknown Dalish elf had gotten caught in his mistake so he'd observed her in his research.

After so much had happened - here he was again, tending to her devastated form.

Such a cosmic joke, he mused, waiting a second longer than necessary to return to the cave with the overfilling basin and his own clothes soaked through with fresh rain. Luckily, he didn't have to hide his feelings for she had passed out. He would never admit it, but this time it didn't take long to heat the basin with water. Mainly because he only checked it after he had spent time staring at her just feet from him, gray tendrils of hair wriggling free and draping like weeping willow branches off his cot.

Author Note: Thank you all who've commented and waited patiently. I have a plan and will finish the fanfiction for this within a few more chapters, I do not intend to create a 40+ chapter fanfiction. I cannot guarantee I will update every week, but I shall try at least every month. This chapter was meant to be out long ago but my loyal laptop died and I was rather attached. After weeks of trying to salvage it I received a new one as a gift. My personal life is also undergoing some changes – all good – but also demanding more of my attention. So again, thank you for your patience and comments. The requests for more help inspire me 3