Chapter 21: Debts

"Are you alright?"

Bethany glanced over at Carver. The question sounded ridiculous to her. Was she alright? Not sodding likely, she had taken up the powers of a demigod, so no she was not alright…

But…she could not tell him that, he would worry about her.

"The powers that Lord Fen'Harel has granted me are intoxicating brother;" she said seriously, "A heavy burden has been placed on my shoulders."

He gave her a shy smile.

"I can think of no one better to wield them."

That impish smile of hers returned.

"That is easy for you to say," she smirked, "You chose me for this."

"If I had known what Fen'Harel was offering, what he wanted of me, I still would have made the choice I did," he said, "I can think of no one better than you for this. Our Father taught you the value of power. He taught you not just how to wield it, but why."

Bethany looked sad.

"You could have summoned him you know," she replied, "I wonder what kind of Avatar that father would have made?"

Carver shook his head.

"He and Mother are together again," the warden replied, "I would not have parted them, not even for this, and besides, he would have wanted you to have second chance at life, to be the woman he knew that you could be."

"Brother," she turned her head, hiding tears, not just of sadness, but of love.

He had such faith in her.

She would be damned if she would fail.

The dungeon corridors were surprisingly empty, not that that was surprising, the werewolves had already swept through here, pushing the guards out, those few that remained.

Bethany smiled wickedly.

Cesare's followers were abandoning him in droves, soon there would be only him.

She looked forward to speaking with him alone.

They had much to talk about.

IOI

Isabela bounded ahead, searching for a survivor to ask about the family of elves that Bethany was looking for.

Locking up a man was one thing, locking up his family; little children in a place like this sickened her.

If Bethany or Carver did not kill this crow bastard, Isabela just might.

What are you doing?

The question surprised her.

Since when are you a hero? Since when do you care about little children and innocents?

She could not think of a single answer, she just pushed forward.

Saving these elves will not make up for the Venefication Sea.

That thought froze her in her tracks.

She…she had never considered herself an evil person, selfish yes, crude definitely, but never evil.

I still see them, the confusion in their eyes as Devon's men pulled them up on deck, the screams as one by one they were tossed overboard…

She closed her eyes, trying to will away the horrible memory.

She would never forget, nor would she ever forgive herself.

Running a ship is expensive; I'll take whatever job you need.

Those words had damned her.

Hawke did not know, he could never know.

He…he would never be able to look at her again, none of her friends would.

A werewolf snarled, it scratched at one of the doors.

It stepped aside for her.

"Thanks rover," she said dryly.

The wolf kneeled in submission.

She looked into the cell.

The sight turned her stomach.

A young elf lay beaten, probably near death. Against the wall behind his family was chained. The old man dangled in his chains, his knees no longer able to support his weight. Two young brothers lay slumped against the stone, their wrists bloody from struggling. In the corner, an elven woman cradled a young girl, nine or ten, in her arms. She could hear the young girl sobbing.

Isabela's eyes narrowed in hatred.

If the wardens did not kill this Cesare bastard, she would.

Count on it.

She pulled out her lock picks and got to work, she hoped to have them free before the others got here.

They did not need to see this.

She cursed, the lock refused to give!

The werewolf snarled.

It pushed her out of the way, and hit the door with all of its weight.

The door flew in.

The little girl shrieked at the monster growling at them the boys struggled against their bonds.

Isabela rolled her eyes.

"Back up Rover," she ordered.

The beast bowed its head and fell back.

Isabela found herself grateful that Bethany had a good hold over these things.

As an army they would be devastating.

Teach them to sail and they would be a perfect crew, she thought, have to watch out for fleas though.

She dismissed that thought, but not without an amused chuckle.

"Stay," she ordered the beast.

It bowed its head.

She entered the cell.

"Don't mind Rover," she said trying to sound reassuring, "Just don't let him hump your leg, I would not advise that."

The elves looked at her like they could not believe their eyes.

She was used to that.

She got to work on the woman and girl first.

"Who are you?" the elven woman asked.

"Isabela," she replied, "I'm a friend of your daughter."

"Lindariel,' the woman's ears rose, "Is she here? Is she safe?"

Bethany and the others entered a few moments later. Carver and Arika went to help Isabela. Alistair watched the door, not that anyone would threaten them with Rover standing watch.

The Avatar sank next to her apprentice. Solen…he…he looked bad; the guards had beaten him badly.

Her temper flared, but she realized that those that had done this were either dead now or part of her pack.

She took some solace in that.

She touched him, lightly, letting healing magic flow. She had to be careful; she did not truly grasp her own strength yet. If she did not give him enough the healing magic would not work, too much might cause more harm than good.

She had no desire to put Solen's body into to shock.

He gasped, his brown eyes wide, he bolted upright.

"TAVIA!" he gasped.

"Easy," she whispered, "She is safe…easy."

He laid back, his eyes still wide.

The magic she used was quite powerful.

He looked at Bethany.

"You took it…the power?"

She nodded.

"Not another step you bastard!"

Alistair's angry shout drew their attention.

Everyone looked towards the door.

"Easy Alistair," an arrogant voice purred, "I am unarmed, I…I wish to speak with the Avatar."

"What you wish does not matter to me!" the former Templar growled, "You're a monster!"

"I am what the shems made me, a loyal servant of my god, and his beloved daughter.

Bethany left Solen in the care of Carver and Arika. She strode out into the hall. She took her place next to Alistair.

She glared at the man he was confronting.

Locien smiled at her, he dropped to his knees, his hands spread in submission.

"Avatar," he purred, "My goddess."

"What do you want?" she growled.

"To aid in the rise of my people," he said, his eyes never leaving the floor, "To aid you in the purging of your enemies here in Ansburg."

She snorted.

"You help Cesare hold me prisoner, you advise him to harm Solen and his family. Why should I even think of trusting you?"

He looked at her then, a hungry look in his elven eyes.

"Deception and trickery are the coins of your Father's realm Milady," he said, "I serve him best with my tricks, now…they shall serve you."

She sniffed.

"Right," Alistair replied.

Loki glared at him.

"This has nothing to do with you shem!"

"Keep an eye on him for me," Bethany asked, "I have one final piece of business to attend to down here."

"Gladly," Alistair said pointing his sword at the mage.

Loki offered no resistance, he followed without fear.

Bethany shook her head.

Did her father favor the mad elf? She could not say.

Not that it mattered; she had other things to attend to right now.

She made for the end of the cell block.

She had one final person to see.

IOI

Siobhan did not even try to resist when she heard the door shatter.

A sad smile came to the mage's face.

She knew that this day would come, now that it had…

She was ready.

The two werewolves who were in the next cell whimpered in submission as Bethany entered. Siobhan tried not to be angry about that. They were both creatures of the Avatar's magic.

They could behave no other way.

Bethany approached her cell, the armor and robes made her look far more intimidating than the warden mage had remembered. She wiped off her hands and stood tall.

Whatever awaited her…Siobhan was ready.

The Avatar looked at her, and at the werewolves that she had been experimenting on.

She stood at parade rest, waiting for the girl to speak.

"You spared Alistair and Arin," the Avatar said.

Siobhan nodded.

"Why?"

The warden mage smiled.

"Because I choose not to die a monster," Siobhan answered, "When…when I lost my Nigel…I gave myself to a demon. Only Alistair's quick actions saved me from becoming an abomination, but the creature…it…it left its mark upon me. I…I was a slave to its evil for such a long time."

She shot a glance at the werewolf that had been her first love, her only love.

A single tear rolled down the mage's face.

"He never would have forgiven me for that," she confessed, "He might have tried to help me find myself again, but…I…I don't think there is any coming back from where I have been."

The Avatar tilted her head.

"You…you feel that you deserve to be punished?"

Siobhan nodded.

"You….You wish to join him…your man?"

Again the mage nodded.

Bethany looked shocked.

"I want to be like him," the mage clarified, "I…I can't turn him back. I want…I want to be with him, in whatever form I can be."

"You…You wish to share his fate?"

"Yes," Siobhan repeated, "Please…let me be with him."

Bethany gave her an impish smile.

"I owe you for sparing Arin and Alistair," the Avatar said, "Is this truly the reward you want?"

"I want to be with Nigel," the warden mage repeated.

Bethany snorted with amazement.

"Very well," she said.

Siobhan sighed with relief.

"Will it hurt?" she asked.

"There is no change without pain."

The mage nodded.

She understood.

Bethany's eyes began to glow green.

Siobhan closed hers, waiting for the pain of transformation.

The Avatar's eyes flared white.

The werewolves howled.

Siobhan opened her eyes.

The beast that had once been her lover sank to its knees; it was surrounded in white fire.

The warden mage was about to scream betrayal, but that is when she looked closer.

The werewolves were shrinking…changing.

She gasped in shock.

The magic burned away.

Siobhan could not believe it.

Nigel lay in the cell next to her, he was shivering, his body bathed in sweat.

She fell to her knees.

"NIGEL," she cried, tears running down her face, "NIGEL…CAN YOU HEAR ME!"

The man raised his head; he looked at her through exhausted eyes.

"Love," he croaked, "What…what happened…where…"

He fell into unconsciousness.

Siobhan sat there, staring at him.

She glanced up at the Avatar.

Bethany was giggling.

"Your face," the Avatar giggled, "Oh Maker, if only you could see your face."

She turned and started to walk away.

"WAIT!" Siobhan cried.

The Avatar turned, wiping away tears of mirth.

"I…I don't understand?"

Bethany smiled.

"You said you wished to share his fate," she replied, "Now you do, he is human…like you. My debt is paid in full."

She looked at the other former werewolf, the former Dalish hunter.

"I will wish to speak with him when he wakes," she told Siobhan, "Will you remind him for me?"

Siobhan nodded dumbly, that was all that she could do.

Bethany turned away, still chuckling to herself.

"You will share his fate," the Avatar laughed, "Oh Father…did you see her face? It was priceless. I'm so mean!"

Tears of joy fell from Siobhan's eyes.

It had been a mean joke…

…But such a wonderful punch line.

IOI

Cesare made for the old escape tunnel, the one built centuries earlier, in the days when the darkspawn held this great fortress under siege.

It had fallen apart. It had all fallen apart.

He cursed his fortune, that and that knife eared traitor Loki, and his bitch of an Avatar!

Cesare had been so careful, Bethany Hawke…the girl had been a weakling. How had she done this?

All his work, all his dreams undone!

Of all the rotten luck!

It was not over, he still had his wealth, and he still had connections within the crows. He would use them to take revenge on those who had betrayed him here. He would return; his dreams would still come to pass.

If only the Avatar had served him, it would have been so easy, so glorious!

Cesare was a smart man, he had prepared for this. A horse was saddled and ready, he still had friends in Antiva, he would speak with the warden garrison there, in time he would use them to reclaim his post here. The First Warden would take his side. He was sure of it.

He had just reached his horse; he started to swing himself up into the saddle.

An arrow struck him the thigh.

Cesare howled and fell.

The horse, spooked by his fall took off, abandoning him.

The warden commander snarled in fury.

He pulled his sword.

Another arrow struck him in the shoulder; his sword fell from his nerveless hand.

"You dare," he spat at his unseen enemy, "I'm the warden commander of the Free Marches! I will see you drawn and quartered!"

Another arrow struck him in the leg.

He gasped falling to his knees.

He glared impotently at the darkness.

Two glowing eyes shown in the shadows, their copper hue red in the low light, Cesare recognized those eyes.

The eyes of an elf.

"You are dead Lindariel!" he spat angrily, "Your family, that elven slave in Kirkwall, I will bathe in their blood for this!"

The archer stepped out of the shadows, she sheathed her bow.

The elf's eyes were as cold as death's.

She pulled two curved wicked looking daggers from her belt.

She gave him an imperious smile.

"You do not deserve the mercy of a clean shot through the eye," she hissed, "You murdered the people of Blainswood! You tortured my brother, my family! You will not hurt them anymore. You will not get the chance to hurt Fenris!"

She kicked him in the face.

He fell, spitting blood and teeth.

He felt her daggers at his throat.

"Kill me," he hissed, "I still have friends among the crows. They will see that you answer for it!"

Lin held the blade there for a few moments more.

She smiled wickedly.

The blades came away.

"No," she purred, "blades are too quick. I won't have the time to savor the little joys of your end. No."

She pulled him close to her, so that she could whisper in his ear.

She enjoyed the intimacy of this; she had hated him since he had decided to purge the village of Blainswood.

This was a long time coming.

"I will give you to Bethany," she purred, "The things that a daughter of Fen'Harel will do to your sorry ass are crueler than any punishment than any mortal could think of."

She smirked at the Commander, the former Commander.

"You wanted her power," the elf purred.

She forced him to his feet, he cried out as she dragged him back down the tunnel.

"You will get to experience her powers first hand you bastard! I promise!"

Cesare could not respond; he was too busy whimpering in pain…

And the worst was yet to come.