Note from Surely: For those of you interested, I wrote another Undertow one-shot, entitled The Frog, that can be found on my stories page. It's about Bryce, Brand and Anders and takes place a month-ish before the first chapter.

Also, this chapter is a solid M for smut, language and violence.

"Your fingers are cold," Brand pushed sleepily at Anders' hand as it moved up her side, an ineffectual gesture that did nothing to dissuade its progress.

"That's the idea, darling," he began tracing a circle on her breast, each pass drawing him closer to her nipple and, by the time he made it with a cheeky little tweak, she had more than gotten the idea. "It's only because I'm a gentleman than I started here and not there."

There was next as he drew his tongue over her breasts with delicious precision while his fingers moved to stroke up the inside of her thigh, leaving her skin shivery taut before he slid them into her, eliciting a cry that was a little shock but mostly pleasure.

"Oh," words were hard to come by when nearly all of her focus was on his tongue and hand and that was even before his thumb put itself to work just above where his fingers were drawing back and forth and pushing up more forcefully with every pass. "Oh, Maker. This is way better than waking up with a hangover."

"Of course it is," he raised his head and offered the sort of smirk that would have melted her even if he wasn't doing unspeakably amazing things to her at the same time. "So tell me how this feels..."

His free hand, cradling her cheek, grew hazy as magic began to flow, vibrant and warm, from his palm, through her temple and down her chest while his other hand echoed this, only he was still teasing her and at just the perfect spots inside and outside. Her back arching pulled her hips off the bed as everything between his fingers and within a foot wide radius began to thrum with pleasure, light pushing behind her eyes as even the air against her skin felt erotic in its way.

And then he was wiggling down her legs so his tongue could take over for his thumb and he lapped at her with such indolence, and she was so sensitive, that she swore she could feel the most minute shifts in his tongue as it drew over her, each pass causing her to sink further into the bed even as she tightened around his indefatigable fingers. At a junction of loose limbed ecstasy and drum tight anticipation, her head pushed back into the pillow and she began to move against him and how does it get better every time we do this?

As if he could read her mind and wanted make a case for even better, Anders raised his mouth and began to plant kisses from Bryce's scar up her stomach, between her breasts and along her neck until his mouth found her own and that was the best as she suddenly wanted something sweet and not just something that felt so good she thought her skin might catch on fire.

"Don't go, Anders. Stay up here," he'd been pulling back to return below, but seemed more than slightly pleased by her request as he settled over her for a lingering kiss, a deep embrace that spoke of yearning on his part and penitence on her own.

She could not believe how close she had come to completely betraying him in the night. And, even though she knew him so well, she could not believe how much of himself he'd given her in order to help mend her shattered heart.

"Did I ever tell you why I decided to take you to Amaranthine instead of Nate?" She asked this as Anders nudged at the spot just behind her ear; the feel of his breath against her neck, the sound of it in her ear, was perfect.

"I assume it has something to do with how much you like me," he reared back and his eyes met her own. "It's been going around that you do, you know."

"I do know," she maneuvered her hand down between their stomachs and found him hard and pressed against her hip. Eyes gleaming, she began to stroke slowly while she spoke, enjoying the pleased noises that purred in his throat. "After I told Varel that Nate would be coming with me, I walked by the dining room and you were in there with Penelope and ugh. I don't even think I considered being jealous, I just turned around, marched right back to Varel, and told him that a healer made more sense than an another assassin."

"Did you get a Varel sigh?" Anders pulled himself away, but began sliding back and forth in anticipation.

Brand shook her head, her hands finding themselves at his waist and it was suddenly difficult to remember more than the muted desire she'd felt for him then, and for months before anything had actually happened. She'd buried it so well and so long that it was impossible to name then, although she could see it there in retrospect.

"Why did you kiss me? After so long, what finally pushed you over the edge?"

"I was having fun that night," he stopped. "And we were alone. Well, practically. And I was so close and I realized that if I didn't do something soon, someone else might and I just wanted you and if I didn't let something out I knew I would explode before long."

"Were you worried that I might...not be receptive?" She shifted, her legs positioning themselves outside of his.

"No, I knew exactly how you would respond," his hand found her hip and he urged her up so he could enter her, almost contemplatively. "I was just afraid that you would go all Brand on me and refuse to be happy."

He had a point; she'd taken some convincing. Now, however, she longed to lose herself in this happiness- him inside her, his hands on her and his mouth only inches from her own.

"You're thinking about being happy, aren't you?" He laughed when she nodded. "Well stop thinking about it and just be it!"

He kissed her again, his tongue pressing hard against hers as he pushed his hips forward and his mouth absorbed her cry of pleasure because it felt incredible as he established a steady but unhurried rhythm, something happening even beyond the usual thrill of being consumed by him.

I love that it's now a usual thrill.

But she took his advice and stopped thinking and only heard his breathing as it was punctuated by moans and her name, whispered syllables of Brandelyn made provocative because Brandelyn was novel when it came from him.

Then she gave herself over to how it felt, his skin slick against her own, his hands grabbing at her breasts, or her hips, or her backside when she'd pop up off the bed in response to a deliberate little shock. Then there was the quickening of things below as she tried to catch and keep him again and again and that was being augmented by a sensation that ran up her thighs to flow deep inside of her and tingle along every nerve as it built into something explosive.

"Are you ready?" He was obviously near his edge but she hesitated for a few beats as he thrust against her.

She nodded and he pulled away, moving down her stomach, his cheek sliding against her so she could feel the rasp of his scruff across her skin and then he was plying at her with his tongue, pushing it into her and it was so suddenly different, intimate and soft but deliberate and hot...

"Fuck me, Anders," her fingers twisted so hard in his hair as she reached her threshold that she was afraid it might hurt him. Instead, he urged her onto her hands and knees, his fingers digging into her hips as she settled and then he was back inside her, this time moving fast along the very spot he'd just attended with his tongue.

She found herself pushing back, lowering her shoulders for a better angle and he let out a moan that made her toes curl, a feral sound that was accompanied by his fingers warming and everything between him and his hands drawing tight in heartbeats only to come undone seconds before he did and she'd never heard him cry out so loudly nor heard herself respond like this to anyone.

For a few moments, he continued to rock against her, the sensation soothing as they relaxed- she lowering her hips and him settling on top of her, his mouth burning against her back. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, holding onto it like it was actually this moment and she didn't want it to get away.

You could have been enjoying these moments for years.

It wasn't the first time she'd thought something like this, but it was the first time guilt didn't pull at her immediately after. It neither bad nor good. It was just true.

But it would benefit her not at all to think about that now.

Instead, she thought about how his chest felt pressed against her back, and how she knew he was smiling into her hair as he nuzzled up her neck because it was Anders and he just would be.

"I know this is the probably going to sound utterly insane, but I...I still want to marry you," she held her breath as this stopped him. "Or maybe I just want to say it- that I can't imagine being with anyone else like this, even if we can't be together like this. And yes, insane, and probably a bit unbelievable after last night, but I want you to know how I've felt. How I feel. How I'll always feel."

"If you're willing to piss off the Landsmeet and the Chantry, you know I'm game," he kissed her neck. "But it's not necessary, Brand. I do know how you feel, I wouldn't be here if I didn't. But it might put you at risk. I'd rather know you were safe than avowed to me and, besides, being married might limit our role playing options."

He accented this with a teasing squeeze of her backside.

"So I should go ahead and have Wade make me a set of templar plate?"

"Mmmm, that has potential. I'd love to see your interpretation of a smite. Although it might make future encounters with templars...confusing."

"At least we both know you have no problems casting whilst aroused. As a matter of fact, I think arousal makes you a better at it."

Anders chuckled, his arms tightening around her.

"If that were the case, I should have been able to defeat the Mother with a single fireball."

This made them both dissolve into laughter as he moved off her so they were facing one another, his fingers brushing against her forehead and suddenly Bryce flashed in front of her, her stomach twisting in cold panic that was completely at odds with how this moment should be going.

She was up, mindlessly flailing for the edges of the bed and only Anders intercepting her at the door kept her from running outside while still naked, disheveled, and obviously recently arrived.

"Brand, what's wrong?" His eyes were dark with worry as he was held her face between his hands, his thumbs pressed against her cheeks. "What's happened?'

"I don't know. Bryce," she pulled away and found her pack at the foot of the bed. "I saw him and felt...Anders, something's wrong. I know it."

He must have believed her as he followed her lead, gathering his clothes from the previous evening and getting dressed beside her, the pair of them moving with lightning speed.

Brand pulled on her boots, tucking daggers into them as she thought.

Fergus had talked her through the security measures before dinner. There had been infiltrators here, but Zevran had identified them and they'd been immediately removed. No one besides Fergus, Melisande, Brand and her Wardens would be allowed in or out of the keep and guards were positioned at every door and point of entry in the castle.

You're safe here, Brand. I am well aware that my own family is at risk and you know that I would do anything to protect them... and that extends to you and Bryce as well.

Remembering this did nothing to dissuade the panic as she imagined Bryce again in Oren's place, resting peacefully in a blackening pool of blood, and had to choke back a cry of physical pain. Not letting it out did nothing to relieve the ache of worry, but she was able to focus on getting into her armor without Anders worrying over her.

"Do you think he's been hurt?" His voice, the question, broke the silence like a windowpane. As hard as it seemed to be for him to say, it was even harder for her to hear.

"I don't know...maybe there's still someone on the staff that Zevran didn't know," she sheathed her swords at her hips, realizing how crazed she was going to look storming out of her bedroom armed and armored, her lips and cheeks probably still bright from what she'd been doing not five minutes before. "Fergus has guards posted all over the keep, so...they should have seen something."

"Are you ready?"

It was the second time he'd asked that morning, and the context was so alarmingly different. Life was whiplash now, constantly shifting around her from amazing to horrible and she didn't know if it would ever be under control again. Or if she'd be sane enough to realize it was under control.

They fell out the door and were immediately greeted by Fergus and Fiona.

"Brand! Good morning," Fergus' eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep and glittering with concern as he regarded her. "I didn't realize you would be leaving so soon."

She shook her head, dismissing the implied and you'd better not be leaving while you're mad at me.

"Where's Bryce?" She looked towards the nursery, which had been Fergus' quarters before. He allowed these rooms to be used because, by the time he'd returned to Highever, the bodies had been removed and the stone scrubbed mostly clean. Because of this, he didn't share her aversion to certain places. The nursery, the last place she'd stood with her entire family and the place where seeing her nephew and sister-in-law slain had driven home how completely apart her life was coming, did not exist beyond its door. As far as she was concerned.

"Bryce?" Fergus blinked and Brand, irrationally angered by this, wanted to snap at him. You know, Bryce? My son? Named after our father who died here and I don't know if I could live if I lost my Bryce ever, but especially not here.

Anders caught her before she could fall over, a discreet amount of magic helping relieve the pressure in her chest and skull.

"Willow took the children to the dining hall for breakfast about an hour ago," her brother frowned. "The castle is secure, Brand...why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," and if she said that or thought that one more time she might ask Anders to walking bomb her because she was sick of not knowing. "I just felt something- panic and Bryce's face and...I'm going to go look for them."

She was off before Fergus could respond, moving swiftly from the family and guest quarters to the main keep. Her entire body was humming with expectation. Expectation of an ambush, of shadow figures flinging themselves at her here, expectations of Bryce's voice crying or laughing or anything.

I just want to hear his voice echoing off these walls. Because at least I'll know he's not...

"Brand?"

She'd stopped to listen, hearing nothing but distant fighting, and the low roar of fire and the cries not of her son, who didn't yet exist, but of everyone she'd known before him.

You have got to get a grip, Brand. Now is not the time to lose your mind.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at the facts: It was early morning here, overcast but morning. She'd not just been with Dairren, but with Anders and he was still beside her, when before it had been her mother.

Just the fear is the same. And the destination of Bryce.

Steeling herself, she continued down the ramp, turning sharply to her left to find herself confronting two guards who were lounging against the walls adjacent to the dining hall door.

"My lady!" They snapped to attention when they saw her, exchanging uneasy glances over the fact that they'd been caught shirking on duty. "Fancy a spot to eat, Commander?"

"No," Brand blinked hard, her mind clicking back again to an afternoon and guards playing cards in the treasury and then, later that night, dead. "No. Are Willow and the children still eating?"

"Uh," the guards looked at each other again. "No, Commander. Teyrna Melisande came by with her maid, uh, Brenna, to get the children about forty minutes ago. Said she needed to visit some folk in town who wanted to see Lady Norah."

"What?" Brand could not keep the incredulity from her voice and, from the way the armed men visibly shrank away, her face must have registered something more than that. "She took my son with her?"

Anders shifted next to her, as uncomfortable with this news as she was. Despite the fact that he wore no robes and carried no staff, the guards quailed further at his subtle movement. Brand briefly considered ordering him to mind blast them or something for being so useless.

"Fuck," Brand spun on her heel, hurrying towards the front gates. "How could she be so...presumptuous?"

"Presumptuous?" Anders kept pace beside her. "Don't you mean insanely stupid? Has Fergus not told her anything about what's going on?"

Jaw tightening, Brand shook her head. Her mother, once a battlemaiden in her own right, had been happy to let her father handle these sorts of matters. While he may have spoken to her of them in vague terms, he'd usually omitted troubling details as his way of protecting her from the more unpleasant aspects of his position.

"There's no need to burden your mother with talk of these things, Pup," she could still see him leaning against the library fireplace. That conversation had been about the news of darkspawn attacks filtering from the south, from Lothering and beyond. King Cailan had yet to call for Highever's men, but Teyrn Bryce knew that day would soon arrive."She'll deal with whatever happens when it happens. Otherwise she'd be walking around fretting about everything all the time."

Fergus had treated Oriana much the same. It was his way to express himself in jovialities and downplay danger as if danger was something that would respond to his charm the way everyone else did. Going on about serious things did not fit with how he wanted his spouse to see him. Melisande, being as she was but a shadow of Oriana, probably received less of everything from her husband. Brand thought it entirely possible that she may not even know about Eamon's death.

"Probably not, but it doesn't change the fact that..." Maker, what was she thinking?

They arrived at the gate before Brand could complete her statement. The guards there were far more alert and a number of them wore matching expressions of concern.

"This is reassuring," Anders kept close to her elbow.

"Commander!" Brand recognized Ser Taylor, a young knight from Highever who had sworn himself to the Couslands after his mother and sister, both maids in the castle, had been captured and used by Howe's men for entertainment. "Commander, I'm glad you're here."

"What's going on, Ser Taylor? I assume this has something to do with Melisande?" Brand had no idea how she was able to sound so calm when she was starting to go mindless with fear. "Did she pass through already?"

"Yes, yes. She...about thirty minutes ago. Her, Brenna, and the children. I told her that she shouldn't travel without a guard, but she insisted that it wasn't necessary, that she'd be fine on her own. But...she never goes out on her own," she could see in his eyes that Melisande's order was eating at him; he couldn't defy the teyrna without putting his job in jeopardy.

"Has anyone told Fergus? Shouldn't he know his pregnant wife is traipsing around with two children, a maid, and nobody to protect her?" Anders moved forward slightly, but Taylor didn't so much as flinch.

"I thought to, Ser Mage, but.." his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. He was telling them things they should not know. "The teyrn and teyrna have been arguing recently, because Fergus has the castle under such tight security. The pregnancy has made her restless, but he doesn't want her out and about. So this is an act of defiance...and she told us to not tell."

"Ser Taylor, what are you whispering about?" Fergus came from nowhere and he did not sound pleased.

Taylor recoiled at that, but Brand wheeled around to confront Fergus on the knight's behalf. She wasn't beholden to the teyrna and knew no boundaries when it came to her brother.

"Your wife has taken our children down to Highever with just her maid as accompaniment," Brand did not bother to disguise the and I might very well throttle her when I see her next in her voice."And, apparently, ordered your men to not tell you."

Eyes narrowing, Fergus drew himself to his full height. Brand half-expected a bellow, but he merely offered a curt nod.

"Let's go find them."

They pushed through the gates, walking in step through the outer bailey as if they were marching to war, despite the fact that Fergus wasn't even armed. Brand had never fought alongside her brother in battle. They'd stood together in matters of the Landsmeet, though, Anora calling them the Twin Terror when they both dug into an argument and dominated the banns.

"There should be a law against us, together," Brand stared grimly ahead as they paused at the stables so Anders could grab his staff, which had been left in the coach.

Fergus let out a snort, "Melisande didn't understand what Anora meant when she said that. I think she's about to find out."

They were met on the road by two more guards who fell in behind the Cousland siblings, Anders, and the six or so guards who'd accompanied them out of the keep.

"So, Commander...," Anders' voice was low and Brand tilted her head slightly to better hear him. "We're assuming this is a domestic dispute and not a matter of greater urgency?"

She moved closer to him, "Fergus is angry but not worried, so..."

"Melisande!" Fergus shouted this and Brand registered him sprinting past in her peripheral vision before she actually saw his wife coming at them from around a bend in the road, Norah clinging to her skirt and Bryce nowhere to be seen.

Anders grabbed Brand's arm in something like a death grip and pulled her forward. It was all that could get her going, her heart having stopped in her chest as everything inside turned to ice.

"Melisande! What happened to you?" Fergus' frustration had dissipated at the sight of his wife's flagging posture and dirt smeared skirt. Before he could reach her, Norah flung herself at his legs, tears streaking her pale face.

"Why not Bryce, Papa?" Fergus caught the toddler in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he turned to stare at Brand, his eyes black with confusion.

"Where is he, Melisande?" Brand's voice came out at a bark. She was unmoved by the tears that clung at the corner of her sister-in-law's eyes, her heart gone in the absence of her son. "You let them take him, didn't you?"

For a split second, Brand saw naked hatred in the other woman's eyes before everything was masked by a second round of tears that spilled dramatically over her cheeks.

"They would have killed Norah...Brenna threatened her if I didn't escort them out of the castle and they made me leave him. It was the only way to save her," she grabbed Fergus' arm, putting him between herself and Brand. "I had to keep my little girl safe!"

What about my little boy? Brand fought to keep her hands off her swords, to keep from screaming, to keep from ripping a hole in the world to match the hole that was tearing inside of her.

"Where...where did they find you?" Anders had taken over, his voice edged in panic. "How many of them and where were they heading?"

"There were four or five of them, about a quarter mile away from the city wall, but west, in a clearing just inside the woods. I don't know where they were going," Melisande sounded as if she resented having to remember this. "Besides Brenna, the only one of them I recognized was your bastard."

Brand was beginning to run before the last part registered and, when it registered, her limbs turned to lead and she felt simultaneously relieved and terrified.

Please be a good thing, please be a good thing.

"What did you say?" There was no world anymore, just her and Melisande and the absence of Bryce and the possible implication of what had just been said.

"Your bastard was there," Melisande moved a few inches away from Fergus. "Alistair, I think his name was?"

"Did he go with Bryce?" That would be better than Bryce being alone with them. Anything would be better than Bryce being alone with them. "Did he turn himself over?"

Please be a good thing, please be a good thing.

"Turn himself over? He was in charge. He asked for Bryce by name and Bryce went to him, even though he had his sword drawn."

No.

Bryce doesn't understand what really happened, but he thinks Alistair is his friend.

As if her life depended on it because it did Brand began to run, Anders following and casting a haste spell on both of them and she knew that he was already trying to sense Bryce in the woods around them as she led them straight to the clearing where her son had been taken.

Not taken, but lured and given away.

It was probably close to three-quarters of a mile to the clearing and Brand was fast even without Anders help, but she needed to keep him close.

"We'll be ambushed," she ducked beneath a series of low branches and very nearly tripped on an errant root. "My guess is just before we reach the clearing."

"How long will it take for Fergus and his men to get down the road?"

"Depending on how many of them there are...," she leapt over a fallen tree, and then slowed as Anders had to run around it. "We'll either be done or dead before we get help."

They went the rest of the way in silence, although the sound of them crashing through the forest could probably be heard for miles. Stealth was not so much their strength, nor were either of them in a mind to waste time.

It was Anders who saw them first, sensed them first. His hand caught Brand's elbow and he pulled her behind a large tree, the stopping throwing into relief how very sore she already was. Adrenaline would have to get her through this.

"They have a mage...possibly a blood mage," his mouth was close to her ear. "There are wards nearby."

Brand nodded and allowed him to move away to investigate. She drew a deep breath. One mage should not be too much of a problem, Anders could disable one on his own. More than that, though...Brand closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift a bit, a once familiar sensation flooding her limbs as the veil around her grew weak and she was then aware of another presence, a whispered greeting within her as he settled in.

I know those which you fight, Commander...it was like a thought and a memory and a bug in her ear. They seek power through unjust means, through fear and manipulation and murder.

She nodded, which was incredibly unnecessary as he'd be able to hear what she was thinking as clearly as she could. The last time she'd summoned him was the night Teagan had been killed, and she'd forgotten him there in her head until after she'd discovered her dead husband and he'd departed with a murmured I'm so sorry.

"I've neutralized the traps..."

Anders' voice caught her by surprise and she realized that her body and mind were reacting to his presence automatically, a surge of adoration followed by a flare of desire and she felt Justice respond, surprise echoing in their shared consciousness:

You love him.

She did not nod this time, but allowed her mind to flip though still images of those she loved, Bryce and Anders, as she drew her swords and moved towards the clearing.

It began with a spell, a force catching Brand by surprise as it pushed the air around her in and had Anders not warned her of the mage, she would have certainly been incapacitated at the outset. Instead, she was able to push it off and the caster had given away his position to Anders, whose finger tips were already glowing blue before he flung his arms out, emitting a wave of mana that passed harmlessly through Brand but dropped the other mage instantaneously, his own source of power turned against him.

It was a high cost spell, and risky for Anders to have done so soon. With only the two of them against an unknown number of enemies, this fight could be a long one and his mana would need to be rationed.

"Stay back, Anders. I'm running in...just support me until I give you the signal."

Anders nodded and pressed against a tree where he had an unobstructed sightline into the clearing.

"I can see four of them at the perimeter," his eyes darted around quickly. "And there's probably at least two more beyond here."

Six I can handle, if I can keep my head.

You could give me orders to that end, Commander. If your head is lost, I can replace it.

Doing as promised, Brand stormed into the clearing, her chin down and her eyes ablaze. In each hand she bore a sword, identical blades crafted by Wade into what could possibly be the most deadly weapons in all of Thedas. In addition to their enchantments, they were now crackling with magicked flames as she latched onto her first target, a small archer to the northwest.

Bowmen were second to mages when it came to threat, and this one seemed to not know what to do with the flaming death that was hurtling directly towards him. He attempted to get a shot off but quailed when her face twisted into something exquisitely brutal that was fed by a surge of blind rage as she permitted herself a thought of Bryce in danger. She saw the arrow fumble before it could be nocked and, by the time he'd readied it again, she was on him.

With the full force of bloodlust behind it, her first blow was a fatal one that penetrated armor and flesh to skewer the unfortunate assassin. Momentum put her face close to his, so close that she could see the texture of his grey elven eyes and feel his final exhalation against her throat as she drew his escaping lifeforce in like it was just another breath.

She hated doing this to people, but it strengthened her and she needed the strength. Her arm was already protesting and she could feel the toll of the relative inactivity of the past week in her burning thighs.

The next target came to her; Brand heard the gasp of readiness and she swung around, her swords flying parallel to the ground as she dipped low to dodge the attack and slice the assassin across the thighs in a spot left uncovered by greaves or tassets, where woolen hose offered no resistance.

She did not wait for her attacker to die, fallen as he already was and clutching at his gashed and useless legs. Instead, she began fending off two men flanking her, one of them shoving against her with a wooden shield equipped with a steel spike that drove into her side, just below her ribcage.

That is a grievous injury, Commander. You should summon the mage.

Brand was holding onto her pain, an automatic response, and she knew that Anders would not be able to clearly see what was happening from his position.

Not yet. He only has his magic to defend himself.

A second blow landed, this time a sword catching her left forearm as she tried to block.

Only?

The last strike made it to bone. She had to give in, throwing her head back and letting loose a scream that came from a dark place within her and tore at her throat. It also served to stun her opponents, both of them reeling back so that they were vulnerable to the sweep of her swords, higher than normal as her back compensated for her now doubly injured arm.

Her right sword landed against the assassin's bared jaw, tearing cleanly across and she tried not to see too much in the split second before blood began to overwhelm yellow teeth and the white of exposed bone and flesh.

She did not have time to brace herself before the man to her left, sensing weakness, recovered and lunged at her again. She was able to dodge away, the tip of his sword catching harmlessly at her breastplate instead of the edge sinking into her side.

While he repositioned himself for another strike, Brand leapt clear of what she knew would be coming- a steady blast of frigid air that rooted her opponent in mid attack.

"There's only one more that I can see," Anders threw his arms out and she felt healing flow between them, her arm immediately feeling more capable so she could dispense of their frozen enemy with a quick riposte that shattered him into a macabre heap of assassin at her feet.

There were actually two. Brand's shoulders jerk back involuntarily and her head felt as if an ogre had grabbed it between its hands and started squeeze.

It is a powerful mage. Justice sounded apologetic and she could feel her limbs tingling warmly as he gave himself a stronger presence within her, lessening the damage done by the crush of psychic energy that could be both debilitating and deadly. Because of his efforts, she was able to harmlessly absorb the bolts of lightning being hurled at her. Anders, having just dispatched the opponent he thought would be their last, was also caught.

No.

His limbs flailed out, everything horrifically illuminated by the seemingly unending cracks of electricity, and he collapsed at the exact moment she was able to relax back into usefulness, her violent attention now on a sparking but black clad figure about fifteen feet beyond the clearing.

This could be an attempt to draw you into a second ambush, Commander.

Brand thought of Anders, not as he lay injured behind her but as he'd been that morning- holding her and laughing in the afterglow of something very close to perfect.

Justice offered no further advice and she took whatever fight would happen next away from Anders, fury warming her blood.

The mage was an elf, a Dalish from the markings on her cheeks and nose. Brand knew the Dalish had access to ancient magics, and had seen Velanna do horrible things with the forest at her beck and call, summoning trees to fight at her side and calling wolves to attack from the shadows.

This particular Dalish, though, was doing all her own work- her fingers obscured in a brown fog as she began to cast something Brand could only assume would not be entirely pleasant. Something to drain her life, or weaken her.

For a moment, she felt a tiny surge of concern. Anders was injured, and she was up against a mage. A powerful mage, Justice reminded her. Who knew when Fergus' men would find them, and every second they weren't going after Bryce was a second that he was getting further away.

Bryce.

Justice expanded in her then, she could see her own skin begin to glow as he became dominant and, even if the spell could hit her as she hurtled forward with unnatural speed, he would absorb it and be sent back to the Fade, leaving her unharmed to deliver an unchallenged blow against the diminutive mage.

But she was moving too fast, and screaming again, and not even the mage's last ditch attempt to freeze Brand in place could stop her before blades were driven hilt deep and side by side through the mage's abdomen.

This one was close, closer than the first she'd killed, but Brand did not linger or absorb her energy. Instead, she lifted the hilts of her swords so that the elf slid lifelessly away from her, Brand not waiting to see her hit the ground before she ran back to where Anders was sitting in the clearing, holding his head and trying to heal himself with what energy he had left.

She fell to her knees in front of him and she could see that he was shaken, his skin still twitching as she caught one of his hands in hers.

"All you all right?" That was his question to ask and he smirked to hear it coming from her.

"I'll be fine...I just don't get hit that often. It's more mental than physical, I think," he let her help him to his feet."Your fingers are cold."

And she thought again of that morning, less than an hour ago when she was waking up to something good...

I think I will leave you at that, rather than...I wish you nothing but luck in all these endeavors, Commander.

Brand's limbs became heavy as Justice withdrew, her mind seeming like a suddenly lonely place in the absence of her ethereal companion. Fortunately, she didn't have time to dwell on it.

"Bryce is nearby," Anders eyes went almost black with anger. Moving with an unusual amount of ferocity he rescued his staff from the ground and began striding purposefully to the west.

"Can you sense him?" Her heart began to pound, hope rather than anger or fear the driving force. "If you can sense him then he's alive."

Anders nodded, relief flickering across his features for a moment when he stopped to look back to her. Relief was short-lived, though, as he cringed at something she could neither see or feel.

"He's being restrained," his voice was sad, unsteady. He began stalking forward again, changing direction slightly.

"You mean tied up?" She tried to rush past him, unable to not hurry to her son, but his hand grabbed her elbow and she was forced to stop.

"No, magically restrained. He's being held by a templar, Brand," Anders looked as if he might cry, and Brand could feel herself growing numb. "Melisande must have been telling the truth...Alistair has Bryce."