**I appear to be on something of a roll here. Not sure how sustainable it is, but I'll enjoy it while I can.**

"Rainier?" Cassandra breathed in astonishment. "What are you doing here?"

Dorian cast a pitying glance over the man they'd once known as Blackwall. What was left of him, at any rate; the ragged creature slumped against the bars bore little resemblance to the hardy slab of meat Dorian remembered. He'd lost at least a stone, leaving his features sharp and cavernous, framed by a matted snarl of beard streaked with grey. His skin was so sickly pale that Dorian could see the veins in his forehead, and a fresh-looking scar cut an angry red path across his left eyebrow. He was bandaged like the other prisoners, filthy grey rags wrapping his left arm from wrist to shoulder. But his eyes were bright and lucid as he said, "There's no time. They could be back at any moment."

"We're getting you out of here," Ellana said, still working at the lock. "All of you."

"If you do that, the Promisers will know you're down here, and they'll come looking. We're not important. You have to find the Inquisitor."

"He's alive?" Dorian dropped to a crouch and grabbed the bars. "Thom, please – is he all right?" He heard the desperation in his own voice, but he didn't care. Pride had no place here.

Rainier met his glance. "I don't know. But he was alive when I last saw him. Which means there's a chance."

"He wouldn't want us to leave you here," Ellana said firmly. A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open on squealing hinges.

Rainier hesitated, his still-considerable bulk blocking the door. "But the Promisers—"

Ellana drew her knife and set upon the lock, scoring and scratching it until the blade was hopelessly bent. "There," she said, tossing the ruined weapon to the floor of the cell. "You escaped yourselves. Let them puzzle over how you got the knife. Can we go now?"

"Where?" Cullen said. "There's no place to hide down here."

"You'd be surprised, Commander." Turning to his fellow prisoners, Rainier said, "This is where we part ways, men."

"But, ser," one of them protested. "We can't let you go on alone."

Rainier shook his head with an air of finality. "You've done your part and then some. I won't ask you to give more. Fara, do you remember the cave where we buried the weapons on the way here?"

The elven woman with the green eyes nodded.

"It's not far. If you help each other, you can make it. Rest there. Gather your strength. Then make for Daerwin's Mouth. You'll face resistance, but I know you're up to it. Maker be with you, Wardens."

"And with you, ser," the woman said. "Put an end to these bastards. For all of us."

Rainier rose from his crouch, took a purposeful stride through the cell door – and promptly buckled. If Cullen hadn't been there to catch him, he would have collapsed.

Maker's breath, what have they done to him? Rage simmered in the pit of Dorian's stomach, fuelled by a dark mass of fear. If this was what had become of a hale specimen like Thom Rainier… A memory flashed before him, so sudden and vivid that it took his breath away. Dark skin on light, his own hands gliding over his lover's bare torso as Seth sat astride him, dragon bone amulet dangling from his neck. Trim waist, slender but sculpted, a slip of a thing, how is he so strong? It was as if Cole were there, whispering in his ear, conjuring something beautiful at a moment when it could bring only pain. What would become of a slight frame like that under the care of the Promisers? Dorian shuddered, banishing the image with a shake of his head.

"What now?" Cassandra asked, slipping an arm under Rainier's.

"We go deeper," Rainier said. "There's a passage to the right. It'll take us outside the ruins. But we need to hurry. They'll be coming for the morning bleeding soon."

Cassandra gave him a look of horror. "The what?"

Dorian swore viciously in Tevene, and for a moment everything in his sight was the colour of blood. Andraste as my witness, if they've touched him…

"Through here." Leaning on Cassandra for support, Rainier led them into a narrow passageway that cut deeper underground. There were no torches here, only the eerie red glow of ancient dwarven craft. That, and a familiar stench. "Stay alert," Rainier warned them. "These tunnels are crawling with darkspawn and blighted creatures."

"Blighted creatures," Dorian echoed. "Like the bear that attacked us yesterday?"

Rainier actually chucked at that. "So you met Walter, did you? I'll bet he put up a fight."

"Walter?" Ellana glanced at him, baffled.

"Just something to pass the time. We gave all the animals names, when we were being kept in the same place."

"Explain yourself," Cassandra snapped. "What is happening here? Where is the Inquisitor?"

"I'll tell you what I know, Your Holiness, but I don't have all the answers. Not by a long way." He drew up and leaned against the wall, already out of breath. "Maker's balls. Can't believe how weak I've become. Just give me a moment."

"Are you in pain?" Dorian asked quietly, handing Rainier his waterskin. "I can help with that."

"No, thank you. Just a bit lightheaded. It'll pass."

Dorian looked him over again, feeling a little ill himself. "What have they done to you, Thom? What did you mean before, about bleeding?"

Rainier sighed. "Where to start? At the beginning, I suppose." He took a swallow of water and passed it back. "The Wardens got word of a darkspawn infestation along the coast. My unit was dispatched to deal with it. We didn't think much of it at first. This area's had incursions before. But when we arrived, we found more of the blighters than we expected. The forest was overrun with them. Couldn't work out where they were coming from. We split up into three teams to cover more ground. That's when my team ran across the Inquisitor."

Dorian's grip tightened on his staff, but he forced himself to keep calm. "When was this?"

"Hard to keep track of time underground. Six weeks? Maybe a little more? Varric was with him, and Sera. They said they were investigating something on your behalf, Your Holiness."

"That is so. They were tracking Aerion Malkar and the Order of Fiery Promise."

Rainier pushed himself away from the wall. "We should keep moving." Accepting Cassandra's help once more, he shuffled down a short flight of steps and resumed his tale. "The Inquisitor had a theory, that the Carta was using the old port at Daerwin's Mouth to smuggle red lyrium into the Deep Roads. That explained the darkspawn. We agreed to join forces, see what we could find." He sighed and shook his head. "What we found was a bloody mess. We'd barely set foot inside when we overheard some of the Promisers bragging about capturing a team of Grey Wardens. They were ecstatic about it. Said someone called the Redeemerwould reward them. That's when we realized we'd been duped."

"The darkspawn," Dorian said softly. "It was a trap."

Rainier nodded grimly. "They'd set the blighters loose in the forest with the sole purpose of luring Grey Wardens. And we'd walked right into it."

Dorian narrowed his eyes. An idea had begun to swim to the surface of his brain, and though he couldn't see it clearly yet, he had a rough idea of its shape. "They wanted your blood. For some sort of experiment, I suppose?"

"Right again." Rainier glanced over his shoulder. "A shame you weren't with us, Dorian. We could have used your brain. Maybe we would have spotted Malkar's trap before it was too late."

"What sort of experiment?" Cullen asked, aghast.

"Malkar is trying to work out how to cure the Blight."

Cullen blinked in surprise. "Is that even possible?"

"You're asking the wrong man, Commander. All I know is that Malkar found the research of an intelligent darkspawn called the Architect, and he thinks the key is in Grey Warden blood."

"That's not all he's up to, though, is it?" Dorian said. "The blight bear – Malkar's doing, I take it? He's… what? Looking for test subjects to cure?"

"Not only that. He's researching red lyrium, too. Exposing anything and everything he can get his hands on. Animals. Humans. Elves and dwarves. Even Qunari. Studying how they react. What they become."

"Oh gods." Ellana brought a hand to her stomach. "The prisoners… They're not slaves, they're…"

"Rats in a laboratory," Rainier said. He was giving Ellana a funny look, as though he wanted to ask a few questions of his own but didn't think it was the time. "Exposed to the Taint or red lyrium, as it takes Malkar's fancy. Injected with it, or force-fed, or just left to rot in a cage filled with the stuff. I even saw them turn red lyrium into a mist and force a woman to inhale it. They're looking at it from every foul angle you can think of. The subjects are studied and catalogued, and when they die, the Carta brings him a fresh batch of prisoners and it all begins again."

Cassandra made a sound of raw fury. "It's monstrous!"

"It is," Rainier said. "And it's been going on for months. Whatever Malkar is planning, he's been meticulous about it. He's spent the past few years training new Seekers. Only he corrupts them with red lyrium, the way Corypheus did with the templars."

She scowled. "That makes no sense. The Seekers were strongly resistant to the effects of red lyrium. Even more so than templars. It is why Corypheus was unable to use them to his purpose."

"But if Malkar succeeded where Corypheus failed…" Cullen mused. "Ordinary templars are resistant too, to a degree. That's what enables them to survive the corruption, and when they do, they become incredibly powerful. How much more powerful would a corrupted Seeker become?"

"I've seen it with my own eyes," Rainier said. "I watched one of them melt the flesh off a man's bones with a blast of lyrium energy. I've never heard anyone scream like that." He shook his head. "I don't know how Malkar's done it, but he has. He calls them the Anointed, and they're worse than anything we fought during the Inquisition."

Dorian couldn't stand it anymore. "This is all just wonderful news, Thom, extremely uplifting, but could we get back to the Inquisitor, please? How did you get separated?"

"In a fight. We mounted a raid on the abandoned thaig where the Promisers were holed up. My men and I, plus the Inquisitor, Varric, and Sera. It took us a while to track them down, but when we did, we were confident we could take it. Set the prisoners free, at least. But we'd never faced the Anointed before. Things got ugly, fast. I was knocked out. When I woke up, I was in a cage along with the rest of the Wardens. Varric was in a separate cell, along with some dwarves the Carta had smuggled in from Dust Town. He told me he'd seen Sera and some other elves being taken away in a prison wagon. He didn't see the Inquisitor, but he couldn't be sure. We were together in that prison, Varric and I, for about a week. Then they took the dwarves away, and that's the last time I saw any of them."

Cullen sighed. "They decided not to keep all their eggs in one basket after the attack."

Rainier nodded. "Especially with the darkspawn mounting attacks every few days. The Promisers are getting more than they bargained for on that front, that's for sure. That's how the animals escaped, or so I heard. The darkspawn attacked that research site a few days ago, set everything loose."

Dorian was barely listening anymore, a single sentence echoing over and over in his mind.

He didn't see the Inquisitor, but he couldn't be sure.

Seth might have been captured, or not. He might be alive, or not. "How long?" Dorian asked, forcing the words past a dry throat.

"Since we were taken captive?" Rainier shook his head. "Like I said, it's hard to keep track of time down here. At least a month, probably more."

A month since Seth had last been seen. A month of being tortured and experimented on. Or, if they hadn't captured him, a month of roaming these fetid tunnels alone, in Maker-only-knew what condition, surrounded by darkspawn and Promisers and blighted creatures of all shapes and sizes. Dorian's head swam; for a moment he thought he might actually be sick.

Maggie stopped suddenly and let out a low growl, her ears pricked forward. Everyone froze, and a few moments later, they heard voices. Ellana pressed herself against the wall and peered into the darkness ahead. "Promisers," she whispered. "Three of them. We should—"

Dorian stepped around the corner and set them on fire.

Not the wisest manoeuvre, perhaps, and certainly not the sneakiest. Later, with the benefit of a cooler head, he would admit that it might even have been a touch rash. But in that moment, with fear for Seth seeping through his veins like poison, all Dorian wanted was for someone to pay. So he set Malkar's men on fire, and he watched them thrash and scream, and when they collapsed in a heap of smoking flesh, he felt a tiny little bit better.

Cullen gave him an annoyed look. "So much for not letting them know we're down here."

Rainier chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about that. There's a chasm just ahead. Bottomless pit. We can throw them over the edge and no one will ever know."

"Except the deepstalkers, one hopes," Dorian snarled, grabbing one of the dead men by the ankles and dragging him through the dust.

He was sweating with exertion by the time they reached the chasm, but he wasn't too tired to enjoy the sight of Aerion Malkar's depraved acolytes tumbling over the edge of the world and disappearing into darkness, falling such a long way that the clatter of armour on stone was scarcely audible.

"There's another ruin just ahead," Rainier said. "An outpost of some sort between thaigs. Good place to make camp. Four walls and a narrow door. Easy to defend."

Dorian started to protest that it was too soon to settle in again, but one look at Rainier's ashen features stole the words. The poor man needed food and water and rest. So they followed his lead, and soon they'd made camp in what looked like it had once been a barracks of sorts. Dorian set ice mines around the door and slumped against a wall, the blood still roaring in his ears.

He was dimly aware of the conversation going on around him.

"I pray to the Maker our friends are still alive, and whole."

"I still can't work out what Malkar is up to. Is he planning to poison everyone in the world?"

"Or create an army of monstrous creatures, perhaps? With these Anointed as their commanders?"

"Then there's the tortured Legionnaire we found. How does he come into it?"

The words skipped across Dorian's consciousness like smooth rocks over the surface of a pond, causing scarcely a ripple. His mind was in another place, another time. Dark skin on light, hands roaming, passing feather-light over his body. Sunlight frames his laughing face, glinting through silver hair…

Warm fingers threaded through his. Ellana was sitting on the floor beside him. Dorian hadn't even registered her approach. She didn't say anything; she just squeezed his hand and stared straight ahead.

Dorian squeezed back, and they sat there in silence, holding onto each other until it hurt.