Author's Note: To paraphrase Thomas Hobbes "Life is nasty, brutish and short". Well, this is nasty and brutish but not exactly short. Just a warning, it starts off nasty and ends up…well unpleasant. And I'm sorry to say it'll probably get worse before it gets better. Thank you to all of my readers for their patience with how long it took me to write this chapter.
First they beat her when they captured her (but at least they didn't eat any for meat was her macabre thought). Marlana had given only a token resistance since this she suspected they were only pawns in Anora's game and didn't want to kill anyone who thought they were upholding the law. Still, she managed to disable a good dozen before being brought down, including Cauthrien. When she knocked the knight unconscious, the guards fell upon her like ravenous mabari on bones.
But they made mistakes with her capture and subsequent incarceration.
First was probably somewhat minor in the grand scheme of things, but they only bound her hands in front of her and her legs not at all. With her hands tied, some of her mobility was restricted, but not as much as if they had tied them behind her.
Their second mistake was leaving her with only two guards. Granted the two left had made a big deal over needing so many guards for one little girl, but they hadn't been there when she was caught, nor saw the wounded that were being treated for her "gentleness".
She wasn't impressed with the quality of men, if you could call them men, that were left to watch over her to make sure she didn't cause trouble. She recognized the type of man that never outgrew being a bully, they were used to tormenting and dominating those who were weaker than they.
To make it even worse they were lazy and slovenly. Their armor clearly hadn't been tended to, didn't fit properly and from what she could see of their weapons, they didn't fair any better. The men themselves were even worse, clearly overweight with sagging beer bellies, unwashed and unshaven. And Marlana knew without having been told, that these were some of the scum that served Howe and gave Sergeant Kylon such problems.
Their greatest mistake though was not making sure she was unconscious. Awake and fully aware she was able to use her most dangerous weapon: her mind.
So she bided her time and her tongue as she considered her plans. Never once did she think about waiting for a rescue. Not that they wouldn't come for her, but Marlana couldn't count on them knowing where she was being kept. Nor could she expect them to show up in time.
It's when the Pig and the Oaf (as she has dubbed them in her mind) began to cut off her armor, and their knives slice into flesh through the armor, that she realized she had to act. It took everything in her to keep from screaming and lashing out from the pain. Only the seemingly unending fights against darkspawn, bandits, abominations and other assorted monsters had built up her resistance to pain. The cuts weren't deep enough to hinder, and thank the Maker they didn't hit anything important, but it was incredibly painful.
Unable to bear their attentions, especially as they peeled off her armor, and with it the light shirt underneath, that she took her chance. Only they were anticipating her reaction and before she could do so much as tense than one of them cuffed her with his sheathed blade. Her head ringing painfully, Marlana lay stunned as they finished removing the final scraps of leather that had once been her armor.
Clad only in her small clothes, which were almost tatters, she shivered in the cold, dank air of the prison, since the shirt she wore under her armor shredded and removed with her armor. The only warmth she felt was from the blood that was slowly flowing from all the cuts in her skin from their malicious carelessness.
It was when Pig started to unbuckle his pants then shoving aside his smalls, revealing his excitement at her vulnerable state, clearly showing his intentions towards her that Marlana's mind hastily went back into gear. Feigning more weakness than she felt, Marlana used her fear as a weapon by allowing it to cause her eyes to widen and her voice softened as she whimpered, "Please, don't hurt me anymore."
He leered at her as his oafish friend positioned himself to get a good view, and not coincidentally block the door. The leer exposed a mouthful of rotten black stumps that had once been teeth as he said thickly, "Iffn yer a good girl, I won't hurt ye."
Fighting down nausea and a growing terror she said softly, "I'll be good."
The leer broadened revoltingly, "Good, now hold still, girl."
To her disgusted surprise he grabbed her hair with one unexpectedly strong hand, then grabbed her jaw to force her mouth open with the other. Once he got her mouth open enough, he entered her mouth. Between the sense of violation and the taste of unwashed flesh, she followed her instincts. She tried to jerk her head away, but failed due to the grip on her hair.
Her second instinct worked better. She bit down. Hard. Then chewed. As her would be rapist screamed shrilly in pain as he pulled his mangled member away, she brought her fists up between his legs as forcibly and swiftly as she could.
Pig's screams went up in volume and octave.
It took a few moments for the Oaf to react to the assault on the Pig since neither of them were used to a female prisoner fighting back in such a vicious manner. Those few moments were precious ones to Marlana, giving her the time to roll out of the way of the Oaf's clumsy lunge for her.
Rolling on her back, she kicked the screaming Pig in the ass to fall into his loathsome companion. There was the thump of one dense body hitting another followed by a wet tearing sound and the screamer fell silent. She hadn't seen when Oaf had drawn his sword, but he had and his fellow guard lay gutted at his feet. Oaf snarled, "Ye'll pay for that ye little cunt. We was gonna just have some fun, but now. Now yer gonna get punished."
He raised his sword threateningly not seeing that when Pig had undone his belt, he set aside his sword. It was grossly inferior to anything she had ever used to begin with, including pot metal practice blades, but its neglect made it even worse. Still, it was a weapon which put her ahead of her opponent.
Marlana unsheathed the weapon by raising it over her shoulder then swinging it forward as sharply as she could. Thankfully the sheath was as loose as she thought it was, so it went flying at Oaf. It didn't do any damage, but it did startle him. Pleased that the distraction worked better than she had anticipated, she rushed the guard. The last sight he had of the living world was the way her eyes glittered with an icy malice that wasn't quite sane over a mouth wetly red from Pig's blood.
With both men down, the Warden tried to spit out the taste of Pig out of her mouth and shook as the reaction of what happened started to set in. Ruthlessly she took herself in hand, this wasn't the time nor place for hysterics. Marlana took stock of the situation, at least they had so very kindly left her things in a chest in the same room, but without armor she was at something of a disadvantage if she got into another fight. With grim amusement she figured that her mostly naked state would serve as a distraction, but the thought that she'd be leered at in such a manner again made her skin crawl.
Seeing that there were other chests, she rummaged through them to see if there was anything useful. Fortunately there was a leather jerkin, pants and boots, all of which were vastly too big, but that was good, they'd insure she'd be fully covered. And while they weren't armor quality, it was better than nothing.
Before dressing, she tended to her wounds the best she could using all of the healing salves and bandages that she carried with her, which was almost inadequate to stop the bleeding, but hopefully would be enough to keep her on her feet. Rough first aid done, she dressed, trying not to feel like a little girl dressing her father's clothing. For a moment grief and fear caused her to double over at the memory, wondering if she had lost her heart family the way she'd lost her birth family. But weeping wouldn't get her anywhere. Resolutely she scrubbed her face free of tears and frowned at the slightly bloody bandage wrapped around her hand and wondered why it seemed strange.
With hands shaking from anger (She kept telling herself that it was anger, better anger than fear and despair), she gathered up a long strip of leather that had once been her armor to use as a belt. The belt that was a part of her armor was just so many scraps now.
As she began to sneak out of the cell, and hearing all the awful screams in that hall tell her why no one came to investigate the screaming from her cell, she started to make promises. A promise to her aching body that she'd take Oghren up on his offer of some of his special brew after letting Alistair scream himself hoarse in anger if he felt so inclined.
The thought of her warrior, her pet templar as everyone joked, made her heart ache even more. Yet all she can think was that she was intensely grateful he wasn't there so he didn't see what happened.
So he wouldn't look at her with disgust at what she had to do to get free.
Marlana strapped her blades to her back, it felt damn good to be properly armed again, and made rash, and more than half mad, promises to the Maker and blessed Andraste if she could get out of this alive. She'd even be willing to spend a day shopping with Leli, or hearing Zev make his innuendos, or even one of Wynne's lectures.
She desperately wanted to see Alistair at least one more time. Even if he walked out of her life for leaving him behind the way she did.
Grimly she left her personal abattoir. She kept to the shadows, silently stalking behind groups of guards, using their voices, rattling armor and stomping footsteps to mask what little, if any, noise she made. Anger slowly grew in her, overriding her fear and despair, as she saw the further horrors of this place and knew that Howe had left a greater impression upon the prison than anyone had realized.
Anger crystallized into hate when she glanced into a cell she was passing by and saw a familiar face. Making sure there were no guards nearby, she deftly picked the lock and slipped inside.
She knelt next to the older, dark haired woman lying in the filthy straw on the floor. Grey eyes flickered open to star at Marlana dully before recognition and horror flooded them. "Oh my dear, Lana," Mallol whispered, "you need to flee this place before they get you."
Lana gently brushed her hand over the priest's hair, "They already did and I'm getting out. I'm going to get you out as well."
Mallol shook her head wearily, "Don't child, it won't be long until I'm at the Maker's side. But you still have a great deal of work to do in this world. I would only slow you down and for nothing. That I was able to see you on this side of the Veil, to know you're still alive, I know it was Andraste's blessing to ease my heart in my final moments."
Tears started to pour down Marlana's blood crusted and bruised cheeks. It was like losing her parents all over again. She wasn't strong enough for this. "Don't talk like that. I'll find a way for both of us."
The priest smiled serenely as her eyes looked through the younger woman, "Such light and glory. Maker keep and guide you, my dear girl."
Then she was gone, eyes empty of life as the last breath left her body. Wanting to howl her grief, all Lana could do was gently close those terribly vacant eyes. Eyes that had always held warmth, compassion and wisdom through her childhood, whose owner had been willing to listen and give advice no matter how silly the childish questions were. Now all that kindness and wisdom was gone because of men who had become more evil in a way than darkspawn.
For one dark moment that hate turned into something darker and terrible than just mere hate. But she remembered Zathrian and what his hate had done to him and to so many others that were innocent. So with that lesson in mind, she stifled the urge to howl her grief as she painted the walls red with blood. Instead the Warden slowly got to her feet, dimly aware that her rough bandages were slowly becoming soaking wet from her blood. Making sure that she wasn't leaving a blood trail in her wake, she resumed her slow stalking through the halls.
The entire time her heart was in her throat expecting an alarm to go off over the dead guards in her torture chamber. But as she went along there was nothing.
At least, nothing about her.
When she did hear a ruckus, it wasn't due to her. Wondering what was going on, she moved in near a group of guards to listen in about what was going on and had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing in delight. There was a drunken dwarf outside the entrance making a nuisance of himself. He'd vomited on one guard, then pissed on another when they tried to get him to leave. No one else was willing to brave the stench to get close enough to try to shoo him away. Since he was merely a nuisance and not a real threat, they were content to leave him where he was until he got bored. Oghren, it had to be, she'd never heard of any other drunken dwarf quite that obnoxious.
And if Oghren was out there, it meant that the others were nearby. Or so she hoped, but tried to not hope too much. With her luck, it was some other random drunken dwarf. Curious, yet careful, she approached the entrance where various guards were debating what to do about the troublemaker. She found a convenient alcove that was nicely shadowed to hide in to rest a bit while considering her options.
Shortly after she found her hidey hole, the atmosphere turned from disgusted irritation to disgusted amusement since an elf showed up to retrieve the dwarf at the command of the elf's master. There were enough snippets of description for her to recognize Zev. Which meant it was Oghren after all and she wondered what those two lunatics were up to. Lana's musings were interrupted by a gentle bump against her leg, looking down her gaze was met by a pair of fierce yellow eyes set in the face of a pure black cat.
"Morrigan?" She whispered softly. The cat nodded very sharply in the way only the apostate was capable of doing. Morrigan tapped the floor with one paw imperiously. Softly, "All right, Morrigan. I'll stay here for now." Another sharp nod and the "cat" bounded off. She sagged against the wall of her temporary refuge and allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes against unshed tears as her throat closed up from a complicated mix of emotions. The primary one being relief.
Her friends had found her. Found her and were going to save her.
Then she felt it. Him. That beloved Tainted presence. She knew that she should be upset that he was risking himself so, but the sheer joy at knowing she'd be seeing Alistair again overrode everything else. All of that fled though when two guards took up a position just in front of her alcove. Careful not to move, if she could have gotten away with it, she wouldn't breathe, but not breathing would have been bad. It would have meant her passing out and making it easy for the guards to recapture her. So she stood in those suddenly bare shadows, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible and with all of her will, silently screamed for those damn guards to move.
One of them did, the much bigger of the two turned his head to look straight into her eyes.
For a moment that felt like an eternity, she felt complete and utter despair. To have been so close… Then she realized he wasn't calling out an alarm. More importantly, those hard, angry brown eyes were incredibly familiar. Her knees weakened and she leaned against the wall for support. At that moment she didn't care at how angry he was, she got to see him at least one more time. Then Alistair shifted so that the other "guard" could move into the alcove and Marlana smiled weakly at Leli.
First Leliana gave her some brews to drink. They helped with the pain, but with that relief came lightheadedness from the blood loss. As the bard helped her friend get into the extra suit of armor she brought, her pale blue eyes widened in horror, then narrowed in anger at the little she could see of Marlana's injuries. She murmured quietly to Lana, "Just let Alistair take the lead and concentrate on standing."
Lana nodded numbly in acknowledgement. While she was intensely grateful that she had stopped when she did, at the same time she regretted it. Stopping meant the adrenaline leaving her system and she realized that her reserves of energy were almost nonexistent. So she let herself be led as she did everything she could to remain upright and mobile.
So it was with Alistair in the lead that the three went to leave the Fort. When they were about to leave a gruff voice challenged them from behind, "And where do you three think you're going?"
Alistair calmly replied, "On patrol, sergeant."
The man grunted, "A'right, just watch out for the dwarf. Hopefully he'll get bored soon."
"I'll see what I can do on the way out."
"Just remember, if he pisses or pukes on you, you get to deal with the stench until your patrol is over."
"Oh, I can be pretty persuasive, sergeant", Alistair said with a hint of his charm.
There was another grunt before the sergeant went off to deal with more important things. The three continued on their way out without any further challenges. As they stopped where Alistair could talk to Oghren from a safe distance, she looked up at the clear blue sky and closed her eyes as she lifted up her face to bathe in the rays of the early morning sun. The long harrowing night was over. She opened her eyes when she realized there was silence and Marlana met the concerned gazes of Oghren and Zev. She couldn't say anything yet, but gave them a weak smile and a nod.
"Right then, lad. Thanks fer tellin' me about that brewmaster near the Market District. Sounds better than this place." Oghren stomped off with Zevran on his heels "protesting" that Oghren needed to return to their master's estate. The others went in the opposite direction of the dwarf and elf, all under guise of guards heading off for patrol.
Once they were out of sight of the Fort, they ducked into an alley, then into the doorway of a ramshackle building that had clearly seen better days and was seemingly abandoned. But Wynne and Morrigan were waiting there with Alistair's and Leliana's regular armor as well as fresh clothing for Marlana. It took both apostate and bard to help Lana get out of the armor and bloodied clothing into the fresh ones. The Warden was grateful that the lighting was dim so they couldn't see how bad of shape she was in, but they could obviously see enough to cause Leliana dismay and to enrage Morrigan.
Wynne didn't say anything, instead concentrating on wrapping Lana up with her healing magics as the young woman got dressed. Once dressed, she turned to a grim faced Alistair. She gave him a tentative smile, "I guess you really are my knight in-"
Lana didn't finish her sentence as the events of the last day and a half, combined with the torture she had endured, caught up to her. Alistair caught her just as she started to crumble in a faint. Then to his horror he saw the blood starting to seep through her clothing, but to his own disbelief he heard his own voice calmly ordering Morrigan to go to the estate to make sure everything was in place to tend to Marlana's wounds. Found himself pulling out the strongest healing brew they had and forcing it down her throat as Wynne did what she could to keep the young woman stable.
Fortunately Sten was waiting for them with a wagon at the arranged meeting point. Alistair didn't think it possible, but the Qunari's expression turned even dourer at what the former templar was carrying in his arms. Leliana had to help Wynne get into the wagon since the mage had most of her concentration on keeping the female Warden alive. Lady Luck continued to favor them as the trip back to the estate was uneventful, the few guards they passed didn't even spare a glance in the direction of the wagon.
Finally they arrived at the estate, Alistair carrying Marlana in his arms like a broken doll, through the seemingly long trip, he poured as many brews down her throat as he dared, while Leli kept handing Wynne lyrium potions to maintain her energies. Inside there was a small room with a cot, medical supplies and a few discreet servants to bring in anything else that would be needed. Morrigan sat on one side of the cot, already making more salves. Without having to be told, he gently placed the unconscious woman on the cot and quietly, but determinedly, said, "I'm staying."
The raven haired sorceress stared at him with unreadable eyes then nodded sharply, "Well, your few redeeming qualities are that you have a strong back and can follow orders."
Morrigan set him to be the one to clean each wound as the two mages worked on the healing. For once there was no spite or sarcasm as they worked together. And Alistair was glad to have developed a strong stomach in the past year, because as the caked on bandages were removed, he gagged at the sight of the bruise mottled skin marred with long slices carved out of her flesh. While Wynne worked on whatever she had deemed the worst injuries, Morrigan worked on the worst of the cuts. The "minor" ones she left to Alistair to put salve and fresh bandages on.
During a brief break where she drank copious amounts of hot, honeyed tea, Wynne finally told them what needed her concentration. "The internal injuries and bleeding were severe. Anyone else… Well, let's just say that there is something to be said for that famous Warden stamina. Or Lana's stubborn nature."
He finally allowed himself to ask the question he'd been trying to put off, but couldn't, "Is she…" Alistair swallowed, "Is she going to live?"
The elderly mage nodded wearily, "She will. Though she'll be sore for awhile, and if I knew she'd listen, I'd insist on bedrest for at least a week. If we're lucky, we'll get her to rest for a day."
"She will get some rest, you can be sure of it", the steel in his voice made both mages look at him in astonishment.
But Wynne wasn't quite done yet. "The only thing that concerns me is the fact that all of the blood in her mouth wasn't hers. I hate to think about what caused her to bite someone hard enough to cause them to bleed so much. Or why she would have held on to the bite for so long."
Even Morrigan looked ill at the thought.
Then the healing resumed. After watching the two mages consume far too much lyrium, Wynne declared the healing done. Alistair sat beside the cot watching her sleep as the servants helped the two mages to their rooms to get some much needed rest of their own. He took up her right hand as gently as a newborn kitten his massive; battle scarred and calloused hands, unspeakably relieved at seeing her skin back to its normal golden tone. At his touch those glorious blue eyes flickered open.
She didn't recognize the room at first and wondered if the rescue had all been a dream, that they'd healed her for the next round of torture when she realized her hand was being held, but not bound. Seeing that it was Alistair by her side, she smiled in relief, though her voice was hoarse, it was still enough to convey everything she felt at the sight of him as she whispered, "Alistair."
When he just looked down at her with a cold, hard expression she'd never seen before, she feared for the worst, "W-who did we lose?"
His voice was tight, "No one, but we almost lost you."
Her throat tightened, "I-I'm-"
He didn't give a chance to finish as he dropped her hand and abruptly stood up. The terror he had felt changed into something ugly. Uglier combined with the anger and hurt he felt. Rather than hammer her with those emotions, he simply turned away from her to leave the room.
The soft click of the door behind him sounded so terribly final.
