Redcliffe

"I don't like this," hissed Maebh.

Teagan shrugged helplessly. "Nor do I, but what other choice do I have?"

Maebh glared at him. "This is a bad idea. How can you trust her," she glanced back at Isolde as she spoke of her, and realized the woman was directing a look of withering jealousy at her. "Oh Maker. Teagan, you didn't..." Maebh's lip curled.

He began to look irritated. "You're going to lecture me, now? Brother-jumper."

Maebh jerked back as if he had slapped her and blinked. "That was unfair, and you know it."

"Here," he palmed something into her hand, changing the subject. "This is my signet ring."

"That's a little sudden, isn't it?"

"Pay attention, this is important. It will allow you to access the secret..."

"The passage beneath the windmill?" Maebh interrupted.

"Maker's Breath, how did you know about that?" Teagan was baffled.

"Your sister told me. I was very, very young but it made an impression. She said I'd need to know someday," Maebh shrugged. "I have no idea why she told me, really."

Teagan looked thoughtful. "She did always like you best." He straightened his shoulders and patted her arm. "I'm going now. See you soon?"

Maebh grimaced. "If you're still alive."

"So, what do you think is really going on here?" Alistair murmured to her as they crept through the tunnel.

"Something wicked. I'm sure that bitch has something to do with it. Honestly, what did Eamon ever see in her?"

"Youth? Vitality? Grace? Style?" interjected Zevran. "There are many things at which that the ladies of Ferelden excel, but the ladies of Orlais can be quite beguiling in their own right."

"Yes, apparently we are all old, lifeless, clumsy frumps," Maebh rolled her eyes.

"Eh, don't feel bad," consoled Oghren. "He doesn't mean anything by it."

Maebh was about to give a bitter retort on the nature of sarcasm when she stopped suddenly. "Do you hear that?" They all stopped. "Someone's in trouble." She ran ahead and shocked the undead surrounding an occupied cell. "Maker's Breath these things stink," she mopped the gore from her face and turned to look at what the undead had been attacking.

She tried to speak, but the words turned to ashes in her mouth. Her head twitched, as if she was trying to look away, but couldn't. "What is it? What's wrong?" Alistair and the others caught up to her.

It was Jowan who broke the silence first. "I guess you're just as surprised as I am," he said, with a shadow of his old smirk.

Maebh blinked. "How? How are you still alive?"

"I should be asking you the same thing, I thought all the Grey Wardens were wiped out along with the King, when they betrayed him."

Shock gave way to anger. Maebh slammed her hand against the bars, and Jowan flinched. "The Wardens did not betray Cailan! It was the Teryn who left us all to die," her eyes blazed with fury.

Jowan shook his head. "Teryn Loghain. That's how I got here."

"Explain yourself."

"I was nearly all the way to Denerim before I got caught. Loghain took me off the Templars and told me I had a choice: either go back to the tower or come here and poison the Arl."

Maebh wrapped her hand around the bars, feeling dizzy. "He sent you to... why would they ever let you in?"

"The Arl's son, Connor, had been showing signs of magic and the Arlessa didn't want to send him to the tower. She brought me in to tutor him. She wanted me to teach him just enough to hide it. That's how I got close to the family."

Maebh's knuckles turned white. This didn't make sense. A phantom of a memory she had tried to forget. The Teryn standing over her. The Teryn slapping her face. The Teryn turning her over to the Knight-Commander, recommending she be made Tranquil. "The Teryn knew this? That Connor had magic? And he sent you here to help keep him out of the tower?"

"No, he sent me here to poison the Arl."

"Yes, of course," her grip relaxed, the phantom retreated. "Wait, would you agree to do this?"

Jowan waved his arms out in an expression of innocence. "He told me it was the right thing to do! He said the Arl was planning a rebellion against the Queen and that I could redeem myself. I was so anxious to do the right thing, to prove to everybody that I wasn't a screw up."

"But the undead, the things attacking the village, did he tell you to do that, too?"

Jowan blanched. "I had nothing to do with that, you must believe me! Somehow Connor summoned... I don't know what but I didn't teach him how to do it, I swear!"

"Like you swore to me that you didn't practice blood magic?"

Jowan slumped against the bars, last vestiges of bravado gone. "I've been running through all the decisions I have made to get me to this point and I've realized that at each point I made the best choice I could at the time. There isn't one thing I would have done differently."

Maebh gritted her teeth. "So, you would still have lied to me? Betrayed me?"

Jowan set his jaw grimly. "I did what I had to do."

"I asked you if you had practiced blood magic. You lied straight to my face, Jowan! I trusted you, and you lied straight to my face!" Maebh felt frustration clutch at her insides. "After everything, after all the things you did for me why wouldn't you let me help you?"

Jowan shrugged helplessly. "What, like eating half of your olives or not telling Senior Enchanter Hugh about the poems you wrote about him? It's not exactly on the same level."

Maebh's face softened. "Maybe not, but telling Cailan where to find me was."

Jowan's head jerked up. "I never told you! I never told anybody!"

"I know. But, Jowan, how else would he have known where to find me? I always knew it was you. I'm not really sure why you thought you had to keep a secret from me, but I respected that." Her heart twisted with regret. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you."

"I guess I was trying to protect you. I didn't want you to know what I had become." He turned his face away.

Maebh started to pick the lock, "I'm getting you out of here."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Alistair placed his hand on hers.

Maebh smacked his hand away. "Yes."

"Maebh, stop," Jowan backed away from the cell door. "I'm not going with you."

"Then you can go somewhere else. Get out of here. Go to Orlais like you said, or, or..."

"No. No more running. No more hiding. No more lying. I'm going to come clean and accept the consequences of my actions."

Maebh shook her head and frowned, fighting tears. "No, I'll figure something out. We'll figure something out you'll come with me and..." she took a deep breath and bit her fist. "Damn you," she hissed. "Damn all of you," she froze the lock until it shattered. "There, I've given you some options."

She turned and walked out of the dungeon.

When Maebh was seven years old she spent most of her time in Denerim. Her days were spent studying history, military tactics, geography, cartography, and fencing. She was to be her father's second when she was older. Her free time was taken up by Cailan. He was the Crown Prince, after all, and he desired her company. Not that she minded, he was an excellent playmate. He had a tendency to get her into pickles but also was very good at talking them out of trouble. And sometimes Teagan would come, and Teagan was Maebh's hero. He was like a grownup, but fun! He would listen to them and play with them and keep their secrets and tell them stories about his wonderful adventures! On one occasion, Maebh solemnly informed Teagan that since it had already been decided that Cailan should marry somebody else, Maebh had decided to marry Teagan. Teagan told her he thought it was a wonderful idea, but he wouldn't make her promise, in case she later changed her mind.

One game they would often play was tumbling. Cailan was an excellent tumbler, and so that became their very favorite game. Maebh wasn't very good at tumbling. She always felt like she couldn't see where she was going and was afraid to fall. Once, as they were trapped inside for an entire, endless, dreary rainy day, Teagan spent the afternoon patiently teaching Maebh how to somersault without flinching.

Maebh felt sick as another happy memory crumbled. Teagan danced under the demon's control, his face twisted in a mockery of a smile. She pushed those thoughts away. Focus. Analyze. What did the demon want?

The demon's purpose was difficult to determine. At first, all it seemed to want was to make Isolde miserable. Maebh was not fooled, though. She knew this momentary alliance was just a happy coincidence. But not a Hunger or Rage Demon, surely. Either of those would not have the patience for multiple possessions. And the undead swarms on the village did not appear to be the work of a Sloth demon, it was all a bit too energetic. However, it was also a bit too obvious for a Pride Demon. Maebh counted her blessings that it wasn't a Pride Demon she now faced, whose subtle machinations would be much harder to trace.

No, this had to be a Desire Demon. Maebh grimaced. A Desire Demon was what tormented Cullen, as well. But Connor was too young to have been seduced like that. So the question was, what did Connor want? "The Arl," she said suddenly.

The boy's face darkened, he roared in his demon-fractured voice, "No! Nobody speaks to the Arl!" and all Hell broke loose.

The demon directed the guards and Teagan to attack. At first, Maebh was too shocked to respond. She cast stone armor on herself quailed as Teagan bore down on her with his blade.

"On your feet, you sodding duster," roared Oghren as he bashed Teagan with his ax. "You think this is nap time?"

Maebh's head snapped up, she growled and cast a repulsion glyph that sent Teagan flying. A dark well of rage erupted within her. Her peripheral vision clouded, all she saw was Teagan. She bore down on him, casting lightning after arcane bolt after chain lightning after rock fist. Her blood roared in her ears. She lost all sense and reason, and began to beat him with her staff. She wanted to pulverize him, reduce him to a bloody smear on the floor.

He lay at her feet, bloodied and unconscious. Her vision cleared, she realized somebody had taken her staff AND was holding arms back. The roaring died down in her ears as she looked at her knuckles, which were split and bruised. "Maebh?" Alistair turned her around and brushed the hair from her face. He looked concerned. "Maebh, are you alright?"

Maebh realized she was shaking violently and tears were running down her face. She struggled to catch her breath. Slowly she realized everybody was staring at her. Isolde cautiously approached her. "What do you mean, 'How many times'?"

Maebh blinked. "What?"

"You kept shouting, 'How many times'," Alistair said gently.

Maebh felt hollow. "I don't know," she said softly. "Will he be alright?" she asked Zevran, who was examining Teagan.

"Well," he said, peeling back Teagan's eyelids, "He'll be sore for quite a while, but he'll survive."

"Oh," Maebh took a deep, shuddering breath, "thank the Maker. Um," she said, turning her attention to Isolde, "Where's Connor?"

Isolde blanched. "Please, please don't hurt him."

Maebh felt the cold fury burning within her. "You have already made that decision for me, my lady."

The boy looked up at her. She clenched her fists and her teeth. Think clearly. Focus. Analyze. Her knuckles still smarted where they had cracked against Teagan's skull.

This boy was not her. His situation was very different. For example, she had not been possessed by a demon. The plan to hide her magic had been carried out by a pair of precociously mischievous children, not a desperate mother. Her father, once discovering the truth... Maebh despaired of what would happen to this boy if Eamon responded the same way.

She held the dagger in her hand. She knew what she was supposed to do. "I can't. It isn't right." She turned away from the child, and sat down in the corner facing the wall.

Somebody sat down beside her. "Copper for your thoughts?" Zevran asked quietly.

"You'd be overcharged if I let you pay that much," Maebh replied, head in hands.

"I am more than willing to take that risk."

Maebh slid her hands down her face and propped her chin in her hands. "I'm trying to remember the courses I took in Demonology, and kicking myself because I spent more time writing poems about the instructor than actually listening."

Zevran leaned closer, "Oh, you are a poetess? Might I hear some of this verse sometime?"

"It's not what you think. My favorites were titled 'Ew, It's Hugh' and 'Screw You, Hugh'," Maebh shook her head.

Zevran laughed heartily, "Comic poetry is the very best kind, my dear. But you're right, that is a discussion for another time."

"Those are starting to pile up, aren't they?"

Zevran arched an eyebrow and nodded.

Maebh sighed. "Anyway, I seem to recall that if a person willingly gives him or herself to a demon, the rules are different than if the demon takes that person by force. I think it was something about the Fade..." her forehead wrinkled and she frowned, deep in thought. "WILL!" she shouted, jumped up, and ran down the stairs.

Maebh ran down the stairs. "Isolde! Teagan!" she cried, bursting in through the door.

They jumped, startled by her entrance. Maebh felt a queasy stab of guilt at the sight of the lump on Teagan's forehead. But her news was too good to be slowed down. "His willpower was not broken, we can free him from the demon's grasp yet!" she said, flush with excitement.

Teagan held a handkerchief to a bit of blood trickling from his split lip. "How so?"

Maebh was so happy she found a loophole, she began to gesticulate wildly. "You see, there are two ways it can occur. The first, and unfortunately more common, method is for the demon to take possession by force. In those cases, the possessed person's will is broken, and there is no hope," Maebh stopped a moment as Isolde made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. "But, wait, let me finish! The other method is when the person willingly gives his or her body over to the demon. I believe this is what happened with Connor. That means his will is still intact, and we can save him!"

Isolde covered her face with her hands. "Oh, why would he do such a thing! Why would he consort with demons willingly!"

Maebh swallowed. "The Arl was sick before this happened, yes? Connor says the demon told him that if he gave himself willingly to her, she could save him."

Isolde looked at Maebh over the tips of her fingers. "Her? I don't understand. The demon is a woman?"

"It's... complicated. Connor described it as a "mean lady". Demons are actually genderless but if it is a Desire Demon we're dealing with, they normally take the form of a woman. At any rate, all we have to do is get me into the Fade and I can confront the demon directly."

"How are you going to do that?" Alistair asked, having finally caught up with her. "We don't have nearly enough lyrium. And even with Morrigan and Wynne, you still need more mages."

"I can help," a voice came from behind them. All turned to see Jowan, filthy and painfully thin, standing in the doorway. "I know a way for you to get into the Fade, Maebh."

"How did he get out? What are you doing here!" demanded Isolde, fury etched in her face.

Maebh felt all the blood run out of her body and into the floor. "What are you doing here?" she asked, adding softly, "I thought you were going to get out."

"I... got a key from one of the corpses that attacked me, of course. And I came up here because I wanted to help any way I could, to finally put things right for once."

Maebh began to feel uneasy. "Wait, how exactly do you plan to do this?"

Jowan tried to meet her gaze, but kept looking away. "It's... it is blood magic."

"No," Alistair sad flatly. "No blood magic. It's illegal."

Maebh raised her hand. "As Grey Wardens, we have the leeway to use whatever means necessary. The Chantry laws don't apply to us."

"But this has nothing to do with..."

"Let's just hear him out. Jowan, tell me exactly what you're planning."

Jowan shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "You see, I could get you into the Fade right now, if I had enough blood."

"How much do you need?" Isolde asked with desperation in her eyes. "I want this over with as soon as possible."

"Quite a bit, actually," Jowan looked considerably less sure of himself. "The person … providing the blood would be killed."

"Take mine," Isolde strode over to Jowan, grabbing a dagger from one of the fallen guards, "Right now. Take my blood. I will give my life to save my child."

"Wait!" Teagan followed her, "Surely, this is not necessary!"

"Have you lost your mind?" Alistair demanded, "You're not seriously considering this, are you?"

Maebh looked at Jowan. She saw the need in his eyes. It was only a matter of time until he was turned over to the tower again. They would kill him, or worse. How many more chances would he have? She could give him this, maybe his last chance to truly redeem himself before he is lost forever.

She felt Alistair bristling with outrage behind her. No. No this was not the way. This time, she could not help him. "I'm sorry, Jowan. I can't."

He hung his head.

She turned to Isolde. "We can take the ferry to the tower. They have the mages and lyrium we need. Plus, they owe me. It will take about a day to travel but that's a risk we will have to take."

Maebh stood before the Desire Demon. She writhed predictably. Maebh was not impressed. She tried to bargain with her. Maebh was not swayed. Maebh turned away from her. "You think I want power?" she asked, unsheathing a small blade and concealing it in her sleeve. "You think I want sex?" she said, turning around again and approaching the the demon. "You've been dealing with males too long," she slid one hand on the back of the demon's head. "You have no," she slipped the blade between the demon's ribs, "idea," she twisted the blade, "what I want." The demon crumpled at her feet.

Maebh awoke with a start. The stone floor was cold beneath her. The flickering torches blinded her, she groaned as she closed her eyes. Her head ached. Her throat was dry. She swallowed, and felt a blade against her throat. She slowly opened her eyes. A man stood over her, holding a sword. Her vision was blurred, and she couldn't make out who he was. "Cullen?" she asked, confused.

"No," a familiar voice drawled. "Not even close."

"Oh, thank the Maker, Alistair," she pushed on the flat of the blade. "How is Connor?"

"He's fine," Alistair sheathed his sword and gave her his hand. "All things considered."

"And the Arl?"

He shook his head. "We're going to have to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

"Oh, good," she said, rubbing her head, "I was starting to get bored with things going so smoothly."