Progress

Her legs were shaky, her voice even more so, but she stood by the cell door, gripping the iron bars with one hand to keep herself from falling. The Dalish elf was slipping a key into her other hand.

"Go now, while you can," she hissed and then was gone.

"It's a trap," Loghain warned, coming to stand beside her.

"Yes, but it is also our only chance of escape, yes? I would prefer to die fighting than to become a..." Leonie's voice trailed off and she shuddered.

"Then let's go," he agreed quietly and they filed out.

She went immediately to the Architect's lab and bent over his research notes. They were not in a language she recognized but she tore the papers out of the book and slid them into the pocket of her peasant skirt. She looked down at the table she had been strapped to, looking for anything that might give her a clue to the Architect's plans but there was nothing.

Genlocks, when hit with fists, went down much quicker than Leonie would have thought possible. She bent down and began stripping them of weapons, searching them for poultices or potions. Loghain joined her and she glanced up at Nathaniel and Anders.

"Search them, take their weapons, anything of value or use," she instructed. Nathaniel nodded and bent to the task but Anders' face was horrified.

"I don't want to touch that thing," he said with a shiver and stepped back.

"I am not asking you, Anders. I am ordering you to search them. We do whatever is necessary, yes?" She pitched her voice low and firm and he nodded once, a look of revulsion on his face as he bent down. Afterward, she went over to him and touched his arm lightly.

"It is not a thing any of us enjoy, Anders. It is a sad and unfortunate necessity," she explained softly and he grinned at her.

"Oh I know, Lion, it's just…I wouldn't want anyone doing that to me," he explained with a shuddering shrug.

She wanted to hug him. For a mage who escaped the tower seven times he was remarkably naïve at times and too kind hearted. Perhaps that was the reason he had not been successful in his earlier escapes. She did not want him to lose that boyish and gregarious nature of his but she was afraid that he might. Being a Grey Warden was not a life of easy choices.

They had not gone far when Leonie pulled up short. She felt the unmistakable tug of another Grey Warden nearby and began to lead the men in the direction her own taint was pulling her in. Her heart skipped as she thought of the possibility that someone besides Kristoff might have survived.

Keenan. It was Keenan and he was dying, his legs a twisted mass of protruding bones and weeping pus. "Keenan! Andraste's grace, what happened?" she whispered, kneeling beside him.

"Lion. Thank the Maker. You have to stop him," Keenan began weakly. She bent lower, bringing her fingers up to brush his dark hair away from his fevered brow. His tattoo stood out starkly against his clammy skin. He was her friend, a man handpicked for the assignment because of his scouting abilities and he was dying alone in the dark.

"Anders, do something for him," she ordered but he shook his head sadly.

"There's nothing I can do, Lion. I'm sorry."

"No, Lion. Don't waste time on this. Just get the darkspawn who did this."

She nodded and clasped his shoulder. "It shall be as you say, brother," she assured him.

"And Lion, take this ring to Nida. She's in Amaranthine. Tell her I did this because I believed I could change the world, make it better," he whispered and her grief, her sorrow were fresh wounds, raw and aching. She bit back sudden tears.

She slid his wedding ring into her pocket. She remembered when he had come to her, announcing his betrothal, so happy it was bursting from him. She had worried, Nida was not interested in the Grey, didn't have the patience to become a Warden wife but they seemed to be happy and she had stopped worrying in the face of that happiness.

"Shall I leave a weapon for you?" she asked and he nodded, a weak smile skimming across his pale face.

"Now go, Lion. Avenge your brother," he said.

"In death, sacrifice," she whispered and dropped a kiss on his forehead before standing up. And then she was pressing forward.

The sword she was using, taken from a dead hurlock, was poorly made and broke at the hilt when she ran a genlock through with it. Had circumstances been different, she might have laughed. But before she could even grasp the fact that she held nothing but the hilt in her hand, Anders was shouting.

"Creepy guy with my robes! Kill him!" and she had even more desire to laugh because he seemed to be talking gibberish but when she followed his pointing finger, she saw a tainted man, oddly reminiscent of Anders but covered with the black spider webs of corruption. She moved forward. Without a weapon.

Loghain shouldered past her and she nearly stumbled to the ground. She leaned against the rock wall, gasping and light headed, listening to Anders crying out for them to please avoid getting blood on his robes. As Loghain decapitated the eerie Anders lookalike she suspected that request fell on deaf ears.

She was still leaning against the wall when Nathaniel's double appeared. What frightened her the most about his sudden appearance was that he was able to use the Howe bow, the one that only worked for a Howe. How was that possible and what did it mean about these twins of theirs?

"Stay put, you look terrible," Loghain muttered and she grinned weakly.

"Is this where I remind you that you look dour?" she asked and pushed herself away from the wall.

"No, this is where I tell you that you're a fool if you don't rest while you have a chance," he remarked in resignation as she moved forward. She could almost hear his head shaking at her stubbornness.

She helped Nathaniel strip the armor off his twin and then turned her back so he could change into it. He tossed the rags away with a grunt of disgust. She didn't blame him. The tattered clothes smelled foul and were stiff with dirt. Her skin itched where the material touched her.

When they finally killed her twin, she couldn't find her wedding band anywhere and to her horror, she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. Her ring was gone and she knew who had it. And he would pay with his life. She felt a strong hand squeezing her shoulder and looked up at Loghain.

"My ring is gone," she explained, her voice rough with emotion.

"We'll find it, Commander, but now is not the time," he said and though his voice was firm, there was more in it, a subtle flavor of understanding and she nodded silently gathering up her gear and heading behind a large boulder to change.

The buckles proved difficult and her hands were shaking. Beads of sweat were slowly forming along her hairline. She leaned against the rock, hating herself for such weakness, but finally called out for Loghain and he was there so quickly, she knew he had been standing on the other side of the boulder, expecting her need for assistance. He moved her hands away with a gentle slap at them and she stood as patiently as she could while he deftly buckled her armor in place. He was very careful not to touch her bare skin or linger too long on the buckles. Neither spoke but it was not an uncomfortable silence and that, Leonie knew, was progress.

Finally they were all geared again and making their way out of the mine. Leonie was shocked to see a qunari standing in front of her but when she heard he was trading with the darkspawn, and the Architect in particular, Loghain had to forcibly restrain her.

"You would do well, qunari, to trade with us. That creature will be not be alive for very much longer," Leonie assured him and he nodded in understanding and said he would be at the Vigil in a week's time. She checked his merchandise but her ring was not among his wares. She hadn't expected it to be, but she had hoped.

As soon as they entered the large oval chamber, Leonie felt him. She surveyed the room and then saw him, with a tainted female dwarf by his side. Leonie wondered if the woman was Utha, the dwarf that Duncan had told her about, the one who had aligned herself with the Architect. How could a Warden do such a thing? And on his other side was the Dalish elf that Leonie suspected was the missing sister of the keeper they had killed, the woman who had given them the key to their cell. They were up on a balcony overlooking the room.

This, then, was the trap. She didn't have long to wonder what kind of trap. The Architect looked down at them and his smile seemed almost melancholy. "I am sorry I must do this," he said regretfully and then two dragon thralls ripped through the air and landed with a bone jarring thud, their squeals earsplitting.

"Go for the wings first, so they cannot fly," Leonie instructed, bringing her sword and dagger up.

It was a grueling, painful fight as none of them had fully regained their stamina and strength. They finally managed to kill one but the other was proving difficult and they hadn't been able to clip its wings. Loghain staggered back and slipped onto one knee, blood running freely down his arm, half his upper vambrace was missing.

She started to run at the dragon and found that Loghain was out-striding her, his left arm hanging loose at his side. He was yelling, taunting the dragon and Leonie thought he was insane but as the dragon turned in his direction, she understood what he was doing and launched herself at the dragon, catching the wing. She hung on as the dragon tried to spread its wings and let the momentum from that fling her onto the dragon's back. She nearly slipped off, there was no purchase for her feet, and she skittered along its back, sliding her legs down either side of the dragon's neck. She jammed her dagger into the fleshy neck and twisted before dragging her sword up and plunging it into the dragon's skull, where it seemed to slide between two boney plates. The dragon dropped immediately, sending Leonie tumbling from its back, to sprawl at Loghain's feet. He sank down beside her, his face pale, his arm bleeding through the hastily applied bandage. But they were learning how to fight side by side and that was progress.

She leaned against his uninjured arm, exhausted. He was leaning into her as well and she realized they were supporting each other, both too tired to support themselves without the other.

"You are nearly ready, Leonie. We shall meet soon," the Architect said and she drew herself up to her feet, shaking and completely worn out.

"Come fight me now, creature! You will be defeated!" she cried to him but he was already moving away, the two women still at his side. With a sigh, he turned and bowed.

"You will not fight me when the time comes, Leonie. And that will be soon," he assured her. He began to cast a spell and she braced herself, expecting to fall asleep again but instead, with a thunderous rumbling, he caused a cave-in, leaving his escape route completely covered up by boulders.

She sank back down and closed her eyes, wanting desperately to cry in frustration but too tired to do so. She glanced at Loghain, who was pale, eyes shadowed.

"I believe, Loghain, that it is you who looks terrible now," she said with a faint smile. He let out a short bark of laughter.

"As do you, Commander," he responded and his voice was weary and strained but there was humor in it as well.

"So at last, we have finally agreed upon something. This is progress, yes?"

"Indeed," he agreed dryly.

To her surprise it was dark when they left the mine. She had no idea what time of night it was but Nathaniel, looking up at the stars, guessed it was closer to morning than evening. They made their way back to their camp and Leonie half expected it to be torn apart but everything was just as they had left it, hidden in a small group of trees, bound on two sides by large boulders.

She crawled into her tent and began unbuckling her armor. She rummaged through her pack for her linen trousers and shirt and found Keenan's wedding band. She held it tightly in her fist. She may have lost her ring, but Nida would not have to go through that sorrow. She slipped the ring back in her pack.

The tears began again as she remembered the night that Duncan had given her the ring…

"For you," he said simply, sounding a little anxious. He handed her a small silver box, a lion's head engraved on it.

"Oh Duncan, it is lovely," she breathed, her fingers examining the delicate engraving.

Duncan chuckled and replied, "Not the box, Lion. Open it."

Inside the box, nestled on dark blue velvet, was a silverite ring with dwarven runes inscribed on it. She recognized the runes immediately. The ring matched his earring, the one he had worn since she was nine years old. She was speechless and the tears were gathering. She stared at it for long moments.

"Of course you don't have to wear it," he said wryly.

"I-I do not know what to say, my love. It is quite the most beautiful gift I have ever been given," Leonie whispered thickly and the gathering tears spilled over. With shaking fingers, she removed the ring and slid it onto her finger.

"A speechless Lion? Unheard of," he remarked dryly but she heard the underlying relief in his voice.

Unspoken between them was the knowledge that their time was dwindling and soon all she would have of Duncan would be memories and the ring now gracing her finger, as if leaving it unspoken would somehow prevent the truth of it…

And now the ring was gone, tainted by an unspeakably malevolent creature, a corrupted perversion that had haunted her for far too long. Her memories of Duncan and their time together were all she had to sustain her. Her tears turned into raspy little sobs as she lay curled on her bedroll. She bit down on her blanket, trying to stifle the sounds, unwilling to let her men hear her sorrow.

"Commander?" the voice was soft and low but she heard the concern. "Food's ready."

"Yes, Nathaniel, I will be right there," she said thickly.

She wiped the last of her tears away and scrubbed at her face with her hands. She couldn't really hide the result of her tears, knew that her face was splotchy and her nose was no doubt red, but hopefully the darkness would hide any traces of her self-pity. Her ring was gone but her memories of Duncan remained intact and nobody could take those from her, not even the Architect.

The food turned out to be a thick soup of flatbread and salted meat in an ale broth. They were all busy eating, nobody speaking until the last of the soup was devoured by a very hungry Nathaniel.

She finally raised her head and studied the men sitting with her. Her men. Her command. The exploits in the mine had served to bring them all closer and that was progress as well.

Nathaniel looked relaxed, his habitual brooding brows no longer furrowed, but delicately arched over his silvery grey eyes and in the light he looked almost happy. She wondered what had changed within him to give him such an expression. He glanced up and caught her eyes on him and gave her a slight nod and smile as he continued waxing his bow. She liked the new demeanor, hoped it would mean they could finally develop the type of rapport she had always enjoyed with the men under her command. He was a brilliant scout, a thoughtful and intelligent man.

Anders was busy stroking Ser Pounce, who seemed very grateful to have them all back in the camp. Neither cat nor owner showed any signs of ill effects and she was glad to see that Anders' smile seemed natural and easy. She was relieved. She'd been afraid that the entire episode in the mine would weigh heavy on him, he'd been so repulsed by looting and the need to do so but once she had assured him that if he died and she was able, she would loot him herself, he had grinned and said, "Well that's just my luck, isn't it? I get you to promise to ravish my body and I'll be too dead to care."

She let her eyes wander to Loghain who was studying her just as she was studying her men. She smiled and shrugged lightly. Old habits of command. He nodded, as if she had spoken the words aloud and then he dropped his eyes back to the piece of wood he was busy worrying with a small boot knife. Her eyes traveled down to the wood and she was surprised to see it slowly taking shape. She would not have suspected that he was given to whittling, or any other hobby that required patience. And there was something, a slight quickening of her pulse, a gentle thrum in her blood as she watched his strong hands at work. He looked up at her again and carefully put the wood and knife aside.

"You haven't told me what my part in this game of yours is," he said with a quirked brow. She had a sudden urge to reach out and run her finger along its sleek dark curve. I'm just lonely, just missing Duncan, she told herself. She folded her hands in her lap and tilted her chin slightly.

"I would not dream of having you play such a devious game, Loghain. I ask only that you continue your friendship with Eddlebrek, perhaps suggest that he would better serve his people if he invested in troops or training his own farmers to fight."

"So you don't want me to play the game, or don't think I can?" he asked and there was a deeper meaning to his question, a question within his question.

A few moments passed before she met his eyes and she smiled softly. "I think you are quite capable of playing the game but I believe that you are better suited for honesty rather than games, yes?"

His brow relaxed and there was a hint of a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "Just so," he agreed. They sat in companionable silence, neither talking nor touching, simply sitting near enough to feel the presence of the other.

And that was progress as well.