Maker, just fucking take me now and get it over with.

The thought ran through Raelyn's mind with increasing frequency as the hours passed, the last several days a hell of pain, darkness, and constant mana drainings by obsessed templars. Each draining left her weaker not only in body, but in spirit. After one of the last drainings—and Raelyn had lost count of how many drainings ago that was—the templars saw her weakened condition and lashed her to the saddle of the horse they had perched her on. Obviously, they did not want her to fall out of the saddle and die before they were ready to do it themselves. Even now, the irony did not escape Raelyn. She feared what they would do to her; she had a very good idea of just what awaited her when the templars were finally allowed to put their plans into motion.

Hot tears began to burn at the back of her throat again and she was surprised that she still had tears left to shed. She desperately fought the sensation, trying to keep her breathing steady and ignoring the heat building around her hooded head. After a moment fighting what she realized was a losing battle, her stomach lurched and she retched. Pain and blood filled her mouth as the spikes of the bridle dug into her flesh yet again. The tears fell from her eyes as she swallowed her own blood once more, letting her head loll forward once the retching sensation passed and revulsion took its place.

Please, Maker, please, just let this end. I can't…

Images began to pass through Raelyn's mind as she silently wept. She thought of Teagan, who had been her friend long before he was her lord and liege. They had met in Redcliffe after the Orlesians had been driven from Ferelden, becoming fast friends for a short time before her magical abilities manifested and she was whisked away to Kinloch Hold. She had never forgotten her young friend Teagan and when she returned to Redcliffe after her Harrowing to discover what had become of her family, fate intervened. As she was researching her family's history in the small archive of the Redcliffe chantry a young nobleman entered, his boisterous laugh carrying through the building as he spoke with a young templar. At first, Raelyn had been annoyed by the racket breaking her concentration and stepped out from behind the case of records to quietly and politely ask the young men to please shut the fuck up. When she saw the face looking back at her, she nearly dropped the book she had been holding. Teagan's eyes met hers and went wide before a broad grin crossed his face.

"I see in you the young girl I once knew."

Raelyn remembered the smile that crossed her face. "You've gotten old, Teagan."

"And you haven't aged a day, Raelyn."

"That's a little creepy, Teagan, since I was nine the last time we saw each other."

Raelyn accompanied Teagan to his new home of Rainesfere several days later, where he had been installed as bann by his older brother Eamon a number of years before. Teagan made her part of his staff, where she served him happily and faithfully until joining the Grey Wardens.

As her throat constricted once more, Raelyn squeezed her eyes tightly shut, willing her tears to stop before they could begin anew. She inhaled deeply through her nose, willing her body to relax before she inadvertently injured herself further. When she thought she had regained a tenuous control over herself, an image suddenly appeared in her mind. It came unbidden; Raelyn had tried to keep the image from her mind, knowing that it would only serve to increase her despair.

Anders.

Tears fell from her eyes once more at the thought of the other mage, her shoulders beginning to shake as she wept and her mouth filling with the acrid taste of blood once more. While she and Teagan had been traveling in southern Ferelden, Anders had always been the first thought she had upon waking and the image of his face carried her to sleep at night. Her heart leaped when they began to make their way toward Denerim, knowing that her reunion with Anders was not long off. She had realized on their journey that Anders was not just a random dalliance. Something else had been awakening inside her and she knew that he had been feeling it too. It sang between them as they parted, a song within their shared taint that only they could hear and understand. They had planned on exploring this new avenue when they were reunited after her mission. Now, it looked like it would never happen.

Raelyn's tears continued to fall as her body slumped forward in the saddle as much as the lashings around her would allow. The thought that she had already spent her last moments with Anders filled her with despair, the place that he held in her heart nearly crushed by the weight of her sorrow. He would never know how she felt about him if these templars had their way. She would never hear his voice again, never laugh at his silly comments, never brush her fingers through his silky hair or along his smooth skin. Never play with Ser Pounce again.

The horse she was on came to a halt as one of the templars called for a stop. An armored hand tightly gripped her shoulder a moment later, roughly pulling her forward and to the side. A second hand gripped the back of her head through the hood and she heard the familiar and dreaded words spoken in a deep gravelly voice near her ear. Her head began to spin madly as her mana was drained, forcibly ripped from her. Every nerve in her body screamed in agony and she burned as if her blood had transformed into liquid fire within her veins. The thought was ironic, considering what the templars were planning for her. Raelyn struggled to stay conscious, even focusing on the words the templar was growling into her ear as she fought the blackness threatening to consume her. All she wanted to do was let the looming darkness take her, but part of her feared what lay there. In her desperation and weakness, she would be easy prey for any demon that sensed her in the landscape of the Fade. She feared that in her pain, weakness, and despair, she would find it difficult to resist any beguiling offer a demon may make.

After several moments of listening to the Canticles of Transfiguration growled into her ear, the templar gave thanks to the Maker and sat Raelyn upright in the saddle once more. Raelyn slowly opened her sticky eyes, seeing nothing but the suffocating blackness within her hood. The horse began to move forward again, her body swaying listlessly in the saddle. As she fought to clear the cobwebs from her mind, Raelyn heard crickets chirping in the distance and listened as the hoof beats of the horse changed from the dull thud of dirt to the clicking of walking on cobblestones. A crier called out and one of the templars in their entourage responded, saying their destination was the templar compound within the Grand Cathedral.

They had reached Denerim.

Through the haze of pain and despair, Raelyn recognized the sound of what she thought was a gate opening and felt her horse begin to move forward again. She could sense when they passed through the gate, the sound of armored footsteps and hoof beats echoing off the walls and adding to the sense of foreboding she felt. The horses moved over cobblestone streets that were seemingly empty of life. Raelyn heard only the occasional footsteps and voices of others, always falling quiet as they approached and she could swear she heard their footsteps hurry away from them. Raelyn was lulled into a painful haze by the steady rhythm of hoof beats and the sway of the horse beneath her, the pain of the bridle combining with listlessness, hunger, and thirst. Despair threatened to pull her back into the abyss.

Through the haze, Raelyn began to feel a buzzing in her head not brought on by her pain and weakness. The buzz felt like she was running a high fever and it made the blood crawl under her skin like a living creature. She tried to push aside the pain from the bridle, concentrating what energy she could on the pull of her blood.

Darkspawn? In the city? At least I'll be killed like a Warden. Has to be better than what these bastard templars have planned. Sorry to ruin your fun, tin bucket assholes.

A voice cut through the haze in Raelyn's mind; the voice of the Knight Commander. He sounded righteously angry. Whatever they were facing, she was going to cheer on whoever had made the Knight Commander so angry.

"Men of Andraste and the Maker, to arms!"

The streets in this part of Denerim were nearly empty, a small blessing for which Knight Commander Deiniol had been grateful. He had not often traveled to Denerim, seeking instead to fulfill his duties either in his home village or at the glorious Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux in the service of the Divine. However, duty called him to leave his home and venture east and if that was what the Maker required of him, he would fulfill that task and gladly.

As his entourage passed through the gate, Deiniol saw the few people on the street turning to look at their grand entourage, a testament to the glory of the Maker and his righteous cause. He sat higher in his saddle, chest thrust outward in pride as they wound their way through the side streets of Denerim on their way to the templar compound. They were warriors in the Maker's army, blessed to be given the opportunity to bring His will to fruition, to help bring about the Maker's glorious return to his faithful.

The Chantry teaches that once the Chant of Light is spread to all corners of the world and all peoples sing it as one, the Maker will return. Those that did not believe in the glory of the Maker—apostates, maleficars, and other nonbelievers—needed to be brought back to the Maker's path one way or another. Those that came to the Maker's path of their own volition were openly welcomed and loved. All others needed to be brought back to the Maker through the cleansing fire. It was how Andraste herself was brought to the Maker's side. It was appropriate that those needing salvation, like the mage and her collaborator behind him, were delivered to the Maker and his Bride through the cleansing of fire.

Deiniol let his thoughts wander as their entourage slowly made their way through the darkened alleys and lightly populated streets on their way to the templar compound. His service to the Maker stretched back over two decades, most of that time spent hunting apostates and maleficars to send them to the Maker. It was his sacred duty to ensure the evil of mages did not spread further among the Maker's faithful. They were abominations, affronts to the Maker and his Bride. Mages were the ones who breached and corrupted the Maker's Golden City. Mages brought the plague of darkspawn upon the Maker's children.

Deiniol's templar training began in his home village in western Ferelden when he was but a boy, studying and memorizing the Chant of Light, specifically the entire Canticle of Transfigurations. He was the first in his small class to have memorized the entire Canticle, standing in front of his family and friends during services and reciting the Canticle from beginning to end without so much as a single error. His parents gave him wide smiles of pride, the priest commented on his perfect inflections and the visiting Knight Commander from Val Royeaux tousled his hair, saying that he would be an exceptional templar when he was older. The Knight Commander, Gerard, visited Deiniol whenever he traveled to the village, eventually becoming Deiniol's mentor and taking to Val Royeaux to meet the Divine when he was old enough to begin formal templar training.

It was during a trip to Val Royeaux with several templar candidates from his village that Deiniol met Sister Margaux for the first time. She was an agent of the Chantry, seeking to destroy the most dangerous of mages and maleficars throughout Thedas before they could spread their poisonous dissent to other mages who were not truly faithful to the Maker and repentant of their evil ways.

The mages in Ferelden were given more freedom than they were granted in other parts of Thedas. At least in Kirkwall, the templars kept the mages under their close scrutiny; even the most senior enchanters needed express permission to leave their Circle. The Gallows, Deiniol heard it called in passing; a fitting name. The mages in Ferelden, once they survived the Harrowing ritual, were allowed far too much freedom. They could be hired out to the nobles in Ferelden and travel to other cities; they could even serve in the armies! It was far too much freedom as far as Deiniol was concerned. Wandering mages were free to spread their dissent virtually unchecked.

The mages in Ferelden worried those of Deiniol's village and that concern had spread north to Val Royeaux. Sister Margaux was sent to their little village often, seeking the most fervent of men and women to become templars and serve the Maker as hunters of apostates and maleficars. Deiniol would be traveling to Val Royeaux in the near future, taking another small group of villagers north. One of the recruits, Elis Burne, had recently been killed in Amaranthine as he worked the Maker's will. Deiniol had been saddened to hear of Elis' passing, his grief tempered by the joy he felt at Elis now being at the Maker's side. Deiniol had made a solemn vow to both Sister Margaux and the Maker when the Sister prepared to leave for Amaranthine with Elis: he would see that the reign of unholy terror levied upon the Maker's children ended should Elis fail in his task. Deiniol would save those in Amaranthine that trembled under the mage's blasphemous rule.

Deiniol glanced to his left, watching as Arl Eamon and his retinue broke off toward his Denerim estate. The Arl was someone Deiniol hoped could further their cause to hasten the Maker's return to His children. Eamon was a man with considerable influence in Ferelden; he would be instrumental in bringing the Fereldens back to the Maker's path. It was clear Ferelden was falling off the Maker's path with the appointment of a mage as ruler of Amaranthine. The Crown of Ferelden had forgotten the most basic tenant of the Chantry's teachings: magic should serve and never rule. Amaranthine's people had also forgotten, for true followers of the Maker would never willingly follow a mage. Hopefully, the Arl would be able to help guide the Maker's children to the right path once again.

A sharp hiss from a nearby templar caused Deiniol to end his musing. The Knight Commander looked ahead and saw that two of his templars had pulled their horses to a stop and began murmuring between themselves. Deiniol maneuvered his horse between his two men, seeking to discover why they had stopped.

Ahead of them, standing in the middle of the narrow street, stood a lithe figure in simple dark clothing with a hood covering his head, the face obscured in shadow. A prickle went up Deiniol's spine as he cast his eyes about. His retinue was on a narrow street near the Denerim Alienage, an area of the city containing warehouses, granaries, and several small tanners and weapons smiths. The streets were dimly lit and deserted, the workers long since leaving their employers for home.

"You there! Make way!"

The figure standing in the road simply watched the templars and their retinue, arms at its sides in a nonthreatening manner, making no move to leave. Deiniol thought it may simply be a drunkard in the street, too inebriated to comprehend his words. If it was not a drunkard, it was surely a fool. The figure stared at the templars for several moments, not moving.

"Make way for the Maker's men. Move aside or I shall move you myself."

The figure simply remained standing in place, neither moving nor saying a word.

Scoffing loudly, Deiniol slid off his horse, handing the reins to one of the templars next to him. He began to approach the figure in the road, hand near the hilt of his sword. If the figure would not move on its own, Deiniol would have to move the person himself. As he approached the figure, he saw that the person was not wearing simple dark clothes with a long cloak, but a hooded robe. It also became clear that the figure's face was not only obscured by the hood, but also by a cloth tied around its face to hide their features. Alarm quickly blossomed in the Knight Commander as he saw a white glow suddenly form around the figure's hands. Movement came from the shadows as other figures emerged, drawing weapons.

Apostates! "Men of Andraste and the Maker, to arms!"

All hell broke loose with a flick of the figure's wrists.

Raelyn heard the angry shout of the Knight Commander and strained to listen to what was happening around her. She sensed magical energies nearby, one source definitely in front of them, the other off to the side. She sluggishly opened her eyes, seeing faint flashes of light through the coarse weave of the hood over her head. The clash of metal on metal was heard, shouts of surprise and grunts of pain coming from the templars around her. Magical energies swirled about; whatever was casting spells must be whispering because she heard no voices. The horse fidgeted nervously under her and moved away from the heart of the battle, her body swaying listlessly in the saddle. The pull on her blood grew in intensity from all around her, the maddening crawling sensation adding to her haze of pain. Angry templar voices called out challenges, but there were no responses in return from the attackers. She felt her brows furrow; darkspawn always roared and gnashed their teeth when they fought. These were completely silent. Were their attackers the new, intelligent darkspawn that she had heard about? Her eyes began to feel heavy as an unnatural urge to sleep tugged on them. Focusing her will, she fought the urge to sleep and attempted to open herself further to the taint, trying to determine just how many of the creatures surrounded them. Raelyn froze, her heart nearly leaping into her throat as the song of the taint filled her.

It was familiar.

One by one, the voices of the templars fell silent as the sounds of battle began to wane. The sounds of metal scraping against stone were heard once the templars had fallen silent, the metallic sounds quickly followed by the creaking of hinges. Quick yet quiet footsteps approached and she felt someone climb onto the horse behind her, reaching around her sides to grip the reins as the horse began to move, the rider behind her urging the horse to move quickly. Another set of hoof beats quickly approached and Raelyn felt her heart begin to thump in her chest.

The horse began to slow moments later and Raelyn could sense them entering a building of some kind. Faint light penetrated the hood on her head and she heard urgent footsteps moving toward her. The taint suddenly roared to life around her as the ropes lashing her to the saddle began to loosen. Gentle hands guided her out of the saddle and to her feet once the last of the ropes lashing her in place was pulled away. She felt her bonds being cut behind her as the hood covering her head was gently lifted away. The dim light around her assaulted her eyes, nearly forcing them shut but she fought to keep them open by will alone. They were in what appeared to be a warehouse, crates and boxes stacked neatly against the walls around them. Her eyes then focused on the figure before her, tall, lithe, and dressed in a dark cloak and robes with a hood pulled over its head and a mask of cloth concealing the face.

"Maker's breath, what have they done to you?" Shock and disbelief were plainly heard in the familiar voice.

Tears began to fall from Raelyn's eyes as the figure before her yanked the hood and mask away, revealing to her a mussed mop of strawberry blonde hair and a face she thought she would never see again. The last of the ropes binding her wrists and arms fell away, her arms swinging forward to rest heavily at her sides, tingling as the blood flowed freely back into them. Raelyn watched as Sergeant Joanna moved from behind her, a look of pity and anger crossing her face at the sight of the cruel bridle.

Anders swallowed, his voice cracking with emotion. "Hold still, love. I'll make this as quick as possible."

Anders reached to the back of Raelyn's head to where the lock securing the bridle in place lay. He whispered the words to a spell of ice, freezing the lock within his hands. Raelyn felt the chill against her head and then a quick thump as something struck the lock, shattering it into fragments. Anders pulled the leather straps away from her head, his expression hardening as he coaxed her injured mouth open with gentle fingers to remove the spiked metal plate. She watched his expression turn to rage as the plate was removed, a thin tendril of blood trailing away from it and back to her mouth.

"Save the device."

Shifting her eyes to the left, Raelyn watched as Loghain and Lhiannon freed Teagan from his bonds. Both were wearing dark leather armor and hooded cloaks, the cloths covering their faces pulled down. Loghain's attention was focused on Anders as he spoke. "We will need them as evidence." Joanna reached for the bridle in Anders' hand and gave it to Lhiannon, who slipped both of them into a pack at her side.

Anders' reply was little more than a growl as he watched the cruel device disappear into Lhiannon's pack, his teeth clenched tightly together in rage. "I had no intention of doing otherwise." Anders returned his attention to Raelyn, his gaze softening slightly. Holding her gaze with his, he reached into his robes and ripped a piece of his under clothing away. He conjured a ball of ice and wrapped the cloth around it, quickly changing the chant to one of fire, melting the ice and warming the water that now soaked the cloth. With gentle fingers, Anders reached up and began to dab lightly at Raelyn's mouth. She grimaced in pain, watching the cloth quickly turn red as Anders wiped the dried and caked blood away from her mouth. His other hand came up to gently brush her face and the warm tickle of healing magic spread through her mouth, the pain beginning to subside. Anders leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the skin between her eyes, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled away.

"Feeling better?"

Raelyn slowly nodded, a small smile crossing her features. Her face felt stiff, her mouth still sore despite Anders' healing spell. "Talking…hurts," she said, her voice cracking and her tongue feeling thick in her mouth. Just breathing through her mouth hurt. "Sigrun…?"

"She's..."

"Anders," Loghain's gruff voice called out quietly, "talk later. We need to move before the templars wake up from the spell and begin to search the area."

"Where are we?" Teagan's voice was hoarse and halting much like Raelyn's own. He barely moved his lips or jaw, clearly in some discomfort even after being healed by Lhiannon. The Warden Commander ushered those gathered to a far corner of the room where a door lay beyond several stacked wooden crates.

"A warehouse near the Alienage," Lhiannon explained, grabbing a pack off one of the crates and pulling two cloaks from inside, handing one to both Teagan and Raelyn. Anders helped Raelyn pull hers on as Teagan stiffly shrugged into his with help from Loghain. "As Loghain said, we need to move quickly to the Warden compound. You'll be safe with us until the Landsmeet."

"The templars will be looking for you," Loghain added, pulling the hood of his cloak back over his head. "They cannot know it is we that have found you. They believed they were ambushed by street thugs. You will have to stay within the compound out of sight until the Landsmeet starts."

The party exited the warehouse into an alley at the rear, several different horses tied to a nearby post. Raelyn looked to Anders, her brows rising and a small grin tugging on the corner of her mouth? "A surprise?"

Anders nodded, helping Raelyn onto one of the horses before climbing into the saddle behind her. He leaned forward, murmuring into her ear. "Oh, indeed."

"Stay quiet," Lhiannon ordered, pulling herself onto one of the horses. Loghain moved to sit behind her. They had to double up on two of the horses, now that there were six people and only four horses. "No conversation until we are safely within the compound."

The companions moved through the dark streets of Denerim as quickly as they could without raising suspicion. The streets were mostly empty but they were going to take no chances. Raelyn watched the buildings pass by, leaning back into Anders behind her. She would not feel safe until she was within the walls of the compound, but having Anders behind her, an arm wrapped around her waist, was as promising a start as she could hope for.

When the small party arrived at the Warden compound and was safely inside, Lhiannon decided that a debriefing of Teagan and Raelyn could wait until morning. She could see that both of them were dirty, hungry, and exhausted and did not want to add to their burden right away, "We'll meet in the Commander's office at the ninth toll of the bell tomorrow morning," she began, looking with a sympathetic eye at both Teagan and Raelyn as Anders cast a healing spell on Teagan. "Tonight, I order the two of you to rest. Teagan, I know you are not a Warden, but I'm still ordering you." A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'll brook no argument from you."

Teagan snorted in amusement. "No arguments tonight."

Raelyn held up a hand, asking silently for the Commander's attention. She swallowed hard, her face still stiff and sore. "Sigrun?"

A smile crossed the Commander's face. "She's safe, Raelyn, but recovering from several injuries. You'll see her in the morning, I promise. Now, I don't want to have to discipline you for disobeying your Commander's order to rest." A mischievous grin crossed her features as her eyes moved from Raelyn to Anders and back. Lhiannon winked at her old friend. "Warden Anders, your orders are to make sure Warden Raelyn rests tonight."

"I think I can handle that," Anders said, returning Lhiannon's wink before placing his hand at the small of Raelyn's back. "Come, Warden. We wouldn't want to cross our Commander."

Raelyn snorted, a lopsided grin crossing her face. "Yes, Commander," she said, letting Anders guide her through the dark halls of the compound to his room. The door was barely closed and bolted behind them when Raelyn felt herself pulled into Anders' embrace from behind, his arms gently yet possessively holding her.

"I've missed you, love. I feared the worst…" he said, breathing in the scent of her hair as his voice trailed off. She was dirty and in dire need of a bath but Anders found himself not caring. She could be covered in darkspawn filth and it would be the sweetest smell in the world, so long as she was with him. He pulled back and gently turned her around, watching as a hand rubbed at her face. Anders gently brushed her hand away, lightly placing his hand on her face, stroking her lips with his thumb. The blue glow of healing magic surrounded his hand, spreading onto Raelyn's face as the spell worked. Anders saw her face relax and heard her sigh softly.

"You'll still be sore for a day or two, but it should feel a bit better now. Does it?"

With a smile, Raelyn reached up and brushed a lock of Anders' hair behind his ear, nodding slowly. She stepped closer to Anders, reaching up to brush her lips against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips still lightly fluttering against his. He wanted to do more, wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth and taste her but he feared hurting her. She had been through enough pain in the last few days and the last thing he wanted to do was add more. He pulled away slightly, running his fingertips over her temple, down her cheek and to her neck. His body burned with want for her, tempered only by his fear of hurting her.

"Are you sure about this? I don't want to hurt you..."

Raelyn's finger came to rest on his lips, gently pressing his lips to still their movements. She smiled, opening her mouth slightly. "Want this. Want you." Her smile turned into a mischievous grin. "Bath first. Join me?"

"It will be the fastest bath ever," Anders said, pulling her toward the small stone tub behind a plain privacy screen, heating the water with a flame spell as Raelyn slowly undressed before him, her movements languid and sinuous. Anders found the words of his spell dying away more than once as he watched her undress until she finally stopped, placing her hands on her hips with brows raised, her expression one of humorous impatience.

"Sorry," Anders said, a grin spreading across his face. "I was distracted." He quickly finished heating the water, hurriedly undressing after he helped Raelyn into the tub. He slid into the water behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close for a few moments before helping her bathe.

When they finished, he helped her climb out of the tub, reaching for one of his robes to wrap her in. She tugged on his arm before he could move and pressed herself against him, her hands desperately clutching him to her as she sealed her mouth over his, ignoring the residual pain. His arms wrapped around her wet skin as he opened his mouth to deepen their kiss. The heat built to a crescendo between them, the taint in their blood singing a song of joyous reunion.

A/N: I decided I wanted to write the rescue from Raelyn's point of view. We had Teagan's point of view last chapter, so I thought I'd use Raelyn for the rescue. We'll hear more of how the battle went down in the next chapter. After all, neither Raelyn nor Teagan "saw" what happened. I also wanted to give you a bit of Deiniol's personal thoughts and beliefs.

Many thanks to reviewers Aura of Darkness Night, Shakespira, Jessie Long, cloud1004, Dark Chubb, JackOfBladesX, Tyanilth, Dante Alighieri, Arsinoe, Kendoka Girl, and Ventisquear.

As always, thanks to everyone who takes time out of their day for my tale.