Author's Note: What a hectic week it's been! It's only going to get better from here, too. Such is life. Keeping this author's note short and sweet. As always, a thousand thanks to my reviewers: mille libri, Lehni, interesting2125, and Abydos Jackson. You guys rock the casbah. Also, thanks to those who added this story to their Alerts or Favorites. You are amazing as well!

Find Morrigan
by wayfaringpanda

Chapter 14 - Freedom

Leliana waved goodbye to the group of young apprentices as they finally left the dining hall, herded by one of the senior enchanters. One of the young children had overheard an enchanter say she was a storyteller, and soon the bard had been besieged by a half dozen apprentices, all bright eyed and eager to hear of the world outside. As she watched them chatting eagerly amongst themselves, she wondered how many had been at the tower three years prior. She did not recognize any of the children, but some must have been here during the entire ordeal with Uldred.

Children were unusual creatures. Surprisingly resilient to the horrors that often would fell their elders, capable of adapting to situations with ease. The scars they carried could run very deep, however, and often hidden for many years. She hoped that, of those forced to witness the atrocities of the abominations, none were irrevocably damaged.

"At you as soon as dawn came, I imagine," came the First Enchanter's voice from behind, causing her to start. She mentally scolded herself for allowing him to come that close without noticing, but for all his stiffness Irving moved like a cat. Perhaps it was the thick stockings with soft leather slippers he wore, instead of boots. "I'm afraid that our library is sadly lacking in fairy tales, and most enchanter's don't have many stories that aren't related to the Tower. They must have been thrilled to have you regale them."

"They drank up every word," she replied with a smile. "I seldom have an audience that wishes to participate in the story as much as they did."

Irving chuckled, and sat down next to her. "If given an inch I'm sure they would've added some sparks." He reached into his robes, and after a moment of fishing pulled out the rosewood ring. After gazing at it a moment, he placed it on the table in front of Leliana. "It is done."

Slowly, as if she were moving through molasses, Leliana reached out and picked it up, studying the ring. It seemed exactly the same, yet felt different. Less friendly, almost. Maybe whatever bit of Aedan Morrigan had used in the spell was now gone.

She didn't hesitate to put the ring on. "How does it work?"

The enchanter gave a small sigh. "I do not know how well you will be able to work it. For a mage, it would be simple. Have you ever studied meditation?"

"Oh yes," Leliana replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "I have found myself in situations where I have needed it before."

A last kick to her ribs, and the guards exited her cell, leaving her lying on the floor naked and bleeding. Cold seeping into every bone, making her ache. Hearing the screams of other prisoners, far away. The light, a torch near the dungeon door, suddenly extinguished. Pure, unadulterated darkness.

"Ah," Irving said, relaxing slightly. "That is good. It will make this much easier for you, I imagine."

"Indeed."

She grew to love the darkness, the quiet, the absoluteness of it all. It was when she heard boots, heard the cruel laughs, saw the flickers of light that she panicked, throwing herself into the corner of the dungeon, splitting skin in her desperation to sink into the stone.

She put the ring on, sliding it over her middle finger on her left hand. It was slightly loose, and Leliana wondered how Morrigan and Aedan had both worn it. The witch's hands were by no means large, while Aedan's had been proportionate to his size. After a moment, she unhooked the silver sword of mercy amulet from around her neck, sliding the charm off and replacing it with the rosewood ring. Her chest tightened as she put the charm in her pack, aching at the loss of it's familiar weight.

"If you clear your mind for long enough, and focus on the ring, you should be able to sense Morrigan," Irving said, watching Leliana with a knowing look in his eyes. "I do not know how long you will have to concentrate, nor how well it will work, but it should keep you traveling in the right direction." He gave a sigh. "I am sorry I can't help you more than that."

"Oh no," Leliana protested. "You have done enough, Irving. I can't begin to say how much this means." She tried to make her smile convincing, but she could tell he was not fooled. "This will make make my travels that much shorter, I am sure, which I am truly grateful for."

After a moment, he nodded. "Do you need any supplies? If Owain does not have what you need, I'm sure the quartermaster can help you."

She shook her head, rising to her feet. "I plan on resupplying in Redcliffe or Orzammar, depending on where the ring takes me. I should be on my way."

Irving pushed himself into an upright position. "Of course. I'll escort you out."

They walked out of the dining hall, Leliana checking her step to keep time with the old enchanter. "Tell me, have you heard from Wynne? I seem to remember her planning on staying in Denerim for a time, but I did not see her there and the king said nothing of what had happened to her."

Irving hummed slightly, his eyes gazing as if into the distance. "She stayed for a little less than a year, or so I'm told. One day, she packed her things and left. To travel. I believe she wished to spend the rest of her time seeing the world. All I can say is that to the best of my knowledge, no templars were sent after her."

"That's good," Leliana replied. "I am sure she is proving a fine representative of the Circle wherever she has gone to."

"Of that, my dear, I have no doubt."

When the guards came to get her, she had cowered in the corner, unable to scream anymore. Her voice had disappeared some days prior, and she did not know if it were ever coming back. She hadn't even put up a fight, simply gone limp in their rough hands as they hauled her out of the hole they had left her in. Her feet dragged across the rough stone, and she did not even cry out when the skin was stripped and she started to bleed. Her mind was blank, which was a small blessing, as imagining whatever torture was to come would surely have undone her.

When she had been thrown in the new cell, the light streaming through a grate above had sprung tears instantly to her eyes. They had thrown her to the ground and left, a few errant blows the only assault she suffered. Lying there, tears came to her eyes again, and her body shook as sobs of relief ran through her. Leliana had no idea how long it had been since she had been captured, how long she had been tortured in this dark place. The light wounded her, a sense of the outside that the little bit of sanity she had remaining told her was no longer within her reach. Yet it healed her, because for the first time since this nightmare had begun, she knew that the world had not ended. There was still light, somewhere out in the world.

Taking a deep breath, Leliana got back in the skiff, steeling herself for the nausea that would come. As Kester pushed away from the dock, she watched the Tower. It was strange, but in a way she felt on this she agreed with Morrigan. It was a gilded cage, and while the witch may have felt nothing but scorn for those inside, Leliana was struck with pity.

TIlting her head back, basking in the warmth of the day, she was grateful that at least they had windows with which to see the sunlight.