I don't usually put warnings on my chapters, but this is a messed up one. Seriously. There are consequences to having superpowers that are inheritable in a world full of bastards who want those powers.

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Colditz Part II

We were taken to the courtyard of the central keep, at crossbow-point. The blood we had spilled taking it, both ours and the Starkhaveners, was still there. Dried, crusty, smudged, but still there. The other detritus of battle was not, we had already gathered it up elsewhere.

It was eerie, how quickly this has turned from a place of victory to one of abject humiliation. It was all I could do to hope that it wouldn't turn to outright defeat. The game was still on, after all.

There, amongst the pirates, we found our garrison. Battered, bruised, disarmed. They were standing in various clusters, eyes down until they noticed our arrival. They looked at me with confusion, or with a plea. "What do we do now?" was the universal question I saw, but didn't hear. Of course, what they meant by that varied. Do we fight? Do we cooperate? Do we bide our time?

The cold feeling in me stirred once more.

I marched off, breaking away from Ianto and Mariette, straight at the troops. They were not behaving as they should, and our circumstances did not change that fact. No one stopped me.

"I don't know about you Navy boys!" I roared at the top of my voice, "But last I checked, soldiers of the Peacekeepers stand to attention and salute when a superior officer arrives!"

The Army contingent, the great majority of my fellow prisoners, stood up bolt straight and saluted. The Navy weren't far behind, all of them following suit by the time I arrived in their midst.

"Company formation!" I commanded, "Sailors, form to the left!"

The troops fell in as if they were back home on a parade ground, and were not prisoners of a sociopathic pirate in a ruined fort. The pirates stepped aside in confusion, hands on hilts. The enlisted personnel went shoulder to shoulder, dressing their lines perfectly. Most of them were fresh recruits from the refugee flows coming up from Jader, replacing those that had mustered out of the Peacekeepers after Velarana's reforms. The Navy's marines and gunners were in the same boat, if you'll pardon the pun.

The officers were crack veterans though, having mostly joined up before the Sahrnia campaign and fighting all the way across Orlais and Ferelden with me. They inspected their subordinates, before sounding off readiness and allowing their CO to report that the company was ready.

"Company ready and accounted for, sir," the captain stated, Bisset being his name.

I turned away from the man and shot my best sneer at Ianto. My intention in doing all of this had landed perfectly, I thought. The pride of the unit had been restored to some degree, and we had demonstrated that we were not broken.

The bastard was unperturbed, and also saw right through what my point had been.

"Mister Hunt... you seem to be under a false impression," Ianto said smoothly, walking calmly up to me, "I am not here to humiliate you for my own self-satisfaction. I have no interest in seeing your men broken. I am here to do two things; recover my losses and make a profit."

He paused and looked at the ranks to his right for a few seconds.

"This display of military bravado might make you feel better about the situation," he concluded, looking back at me, "But it matters not a jot to me."

My lips thinned, my disappointment that I hadn't got to him dampened by the suspicion that the man was incapable of being gotten to. His gaze reminded me of a lizard, lacking any mammalian emotion or empathy.

"If we are so inconsequential," Mariette boomed from behind her mask, "Why bother? Selling us to Tevinter, the Chantry or even the Qun will only get you killed. You are someone they want to flay and display, not people you can make a deal with."

"Oh, but I already have made a deal," Ianto said, blankly and without turning his eyes from me, "With all of them."

The pirate walked past both myself and the captain of the garrison, until he was right in front of the entire company and the Navy attachment. Only now did any of them pay any heed of him. Ianto scratched his nose for a bit, adjusted his shirt, like there wasn't over a hundred people who wanted him dead standing right there.

"Since it is very likely that all of you will be in my power for the foreseeable future," he began at maximum volume, "It is appropriate that I describe the situation you and your countrymen now face."

"First of all, I can sell any of you to Tevinter at any time. Your friends there will not be able to save you. By the time they could find you, your minds would be wiped or you would be drained dry of blood."

The Qun are not the only ones who use qamek to destroy the will of people. Tevinter learned that formula a century before and had no reluctance to use it.

"However, I will not ask anything of most of you that you would object to. You are hostages, a bargaining chip so that your Commanding-General will cooperate. Nonetheless, your cooperation with my requests is very much in your interest, and most of all, the cooperation of Samuel Hunt. Your lives are in his hands."

So, it was about me. Great.

"Another thing you need to know is that there will be no rescue," Ianto continued, "The tunnels are flooded, any repeat of your assault on this island will be met with mass executions, and in a few weeks, a ship will arrive to transport us all to Estwatch. We are all also periodically subject to a Smite, so your fellows cannot use blood magic to control us. You are entirely in our power."

My mind went to what would happen in Troy when word of what had happened reached the city. Soprano would take command of the Peacekeepers, as planned. She would push for some sort of assault on the Gallows. Velarana would refuse and Julie would probably back her. Too risky, they'd say.

At that point, it was a complete coin toss. Soprano's contempt for politicians was and is famous. Doing nothing simply wouldn't be an option for her. Of course, I was thinking more like me and not like Julie in this regard.

"Lastly, there's something you need to know about Mister Hunt," Ianto said, "Perhaps you know it already. His children and their mothers are given special gifts. Those born of magic are said to receive a gigantic boost to their powers. Those born without magic are given immunity from it, freedom from all forms of sorcery."

"How the hell do you know all that?" I blurted out, total surprise impossible to hold back. There's no way anyone outside of the highest circles of our society could have known about the increase in magical power for mage children.

"The Venatori know all about the Tiberii," Ianto replied, "It seems their mythical fore-bearer was one of that dynasty, though they did not elaborate. They simply, and unwisely, bragged about the power of Outlander blood."

The pirate turned back to my troops.

"What I intend is very simple," he declared, "The children of your leader are a most valuable commodity. The Qun and the southern Chantry would kill for magical immunity. And as I know firsthand, the magisters of the Imperium will do absolutely anything to increase their magical power."

Tiberius himself had once showed me the tracking of his dynasty's bloodlines, documentation going back almost a thousand years, all to preserve the magical power of the family. The Outlander magical power apparently extinguishes at the fifth generation, but can be repaired by intermarriage of familial lines up to that.

So, when the bloodlines were threatened, Tiberius' forebearers married fifth cousins to fifth cousins, both legitimate and bastard. It took extensive work to accomplish this in various eras. After the First Blight and during the early Qunari Wars, the bloodlines were splintered by war, but still, they managed to repair them. The Tiberii were not even the most meticulous in this.

It is not known if the magical immunity of non-mages stops at the fifth generation.

"I intend to profit greatly and for a long time thanks to this commodity. In short, Samuel Hunt will live out the rest of his existence as a breeding piece. Not the most terrible fate. Yours is to stay out your lives comfortably in imprisonment to coerce his cooperation. And he will cooperate, or I will sell you instead, one by one, after you are sufficiently punished for his disobedience."

What followed was a more private meeting, explaining exactly what I was going to be forced to do.

Ianto didn't trust the Venatori, not even on their supposed knowledge of what I was capable of. Not least because it's hard to trust crazy cultists. But fortunately for him and unfortunately for me, he could test Venatori claims with ease.

His first demand was simple. My soldiers were to be test subjects. One would be chosen to see if my children and their mothers did in fact possess the power claimed. A non-mage, to be specific, because superpowering a hostile mage would have been stupid.

The reason I do not relate the exact conversation, the one where I was told this would happen, is because I cussed and swore so much. It is simply a string of 'fuck yous' and 'I prefer to die'. He wanted me to rape a subordinate and wished to claim the resulting children for sale to others. It wouldn't stop there. Naturally, I was extremely resistant to this idea.

For my trouble, I got the shit kicked out of me and was unceremoniously dumped in a cell, with a warning that next time I refused, one of my men would be castrated in front of me. Either I would use my 'equipment' or they would lose theirs, as Ianto himself put it.

To say I was furious is an understatement.

The cell I was in was not built as one; the actual Circle section of the Gallows had been gutted in the course of fighting, so I was in fact thrown in the equivalent of a janitor's closet. Another means of getting me to go along with the plan and an obvious one: The room had no windows. It was pitch black in there except for a tiny sliver of yellow light from a candle outside.

I don't know how many hours I sat in there. I silently fumed. I shouted and howled with anger. I went to sleep for a bit, woke up God only knows when. All I could think about was what a vile thing I was going to be used for, what a vile thing I would have to do in order to save lives.

I repeated the process silence-shouting-sleep cycle two more times. Once after trying to work out if it would actually cost more lives to cooperate. Another time after the thought of betraying my troops on the basis of the math hit me too hard.

I was physically ill with rage. I definitely lost a few years of my life in that fucking closet. That level of anger simply is not healthy.

It all brought me to one conclusion.

I needed to escape. Never mind anything else. If I got out, Ianto had nothing to bargain with. Mariette and the troops were less useful hostages, but would literally be the only thing he could trade for his life. Whereas he could've killed all of them and still kept Soprano at bay by keeping me alive. That was the reality; I was worth far more.

Once out, I could put a ring of steel around the Gallows and negotiate the troops' release in return for Ianto's escape. And then put the largest bounty ever seen on his head.

So, I listened, and when I was sure that any guard outside would be asleep, I began pushing against the door. It was old, and the air was humid. The whole complex was in a basement, near one of the flooded tunnel entrances, I suspected.

I couldn't smash against the door. There wasn't enough room and I had to keep quiet. Instead, I put my hands against the wood around the lock and pushed off the opposite wall with both feet, using every inch of strength. It would've looked ridiculous had anyone been able to see me, like I was doing some extreme core exercise. Again and again, I pushed with everything I had, the rage fuelling my muscles to exert beyond what I thought possible.

But thankfully, it worked. The wood didn't so much as splinter as it bent like cardboard. The bolts holding the lock to the wood simply popped out. Mercifully, the door swung open with only the barest of noises. I guess the janitor's closet is the first to get grease, because that's where you store it.

Either way, I was out of my cell.

The guard outside was indeed asleep, a ceramic bottle of grog by his side as he slumped back on a chair, cutlass laying on a small table with the keys and the candle.

I beat the man to death with a fallen brick I found nearby. His head was a smear by the end of it. I felt better immediately, took the cutlass and candle. Once upon a time, that whole sequence would've given me pause, but not any more.

There were two directions to go in, and I couldn't remember which way I had been brought. I was in pain the whole time I was being dragged there, and hadn't stewed in my own thoughts long enough to ignore it. There was a stairway just inside my vision, but that almost certainly would've come with a confrontation attached to using it.

I decided to go in the opposite direction to the way I thought I had most likely been dragged, hoping there was some other way out.

Through low ceiling corridors of older construction, maybe even original Tevinter or elven vintage, I moved through the gloom. There was a positively labyrinthine network down there, the remains of the original slave processing centre I guessed. There were many cells just like the one I had broken out of, albeit without any doors at all. I suppose the closest cell to the stairs makes a good storage room.

Here and there, I saw the tunnel entrances too. They were all flooded, though I could see air pockets further along within view when I crouched down. The water wasn't all that cold either.

However, visions of myself drowning down there stopped me from immediately trying to swim out. I might see air down here, but that didn't mean there were similar pockets further along... and the distance to the other side of the harbour was a kilometre at least.

So, I pressed on. I must have wandered for an hour at least, before I came to another set of stairs. I climbed them like a toddler does, on my hands and knees, peeping around as I moved to see if there were any pirates I had to worry about.

Instead, I found myself in a broken tower on the outer walls. Clearly, the embassy cannon battery had been a little off on their aim at this one. Instead of destroying the upper floors, the shells had destroyed the entire structure. It was opened up to both the coastline of the Gallows' island and the keep compound. There were huge gaps in the sides, easy for a person to climb through without so much as breaking step.

I also discovered it was the middle of the night, and it was raining hard. The night often brings a cooling rain in summer to the north coast of the Waking Sea. I was glad of that, if only because I was utterly filthy by this stage.

There were no pirates in sight on the one hand, but there was movement on the coast. Coming straight towards me, in fact. I readied the cutlass and hid in a corner where I could see what was going on.

It became clear it wasn't the pirates; the movement was in fact something swimming ashore, not patrolling. Or rather, a group of someones.

It was Paulie Walnuts and a dozen-strong group of Jaderites, playing at frogmen.

They crawled over the wet rock towards the broken walls, towards me. Dressed in dark blue and mottled greens, tar on their faces, with waterproof leather bags over their shoulders. Weapons, in other words. It wasn't enough for a rescue, that much was clear. The garrison was too strong to have been overcome by small numbers, so Soprano would have been aware that she was facing a significant force.

I listened for cries of warning or alarm, some sign that a pirate lookout had caught the scent. None could be heard. Bizarre. I was getting itchy now, something was definitely off. Between the single guard assigned to keep me in the closet, to the utterly inadequate watch, it was hard to shake the feeling that this was planned by Ianto. But that didn't mean it wasn't an opportunity.

I wasn't about to waste it either.

I vaulted the broken wall in front of me, squeezing out of a crack in the tower, and staggered towards Paulie and his men. They immediately stood up, a few with their own cutlasses in hand, the blades blackened with tar like the faces of those holding them. The dark wasn't exactly great for identifying targets, and I am dead lucky the Marines had swam over or else I would not be alive today. The firelances and crossbows were in the bags still, to keep the powder and strings dry.

Paulie knew it was me at once, though.

"Easy," I heard him say, just about, "It's the Marquis."

The men threw stealth to the wind and ran like hell over the broken ground to get to me, surrounding me and breaking out the ranged weapons, aiming at the walls.

"I won't ask you how you're out here," Paulie said, "But let me tell you, you stumbling around in rags was not what I was expecting the welcoming committee to be like."

"Don't think we have much time," I rasped, causing Paulie to hand me a water-skin to drink out of. I drank deeply.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," the captain said, "You can tell us everything I was sent here to find out anyway."

As the squad began to move, as I was moved along with them in the middle of the group, not really sure how I was moving that fast until I realised Paulie was supporting me under the arm. We headed for the water, where I could see that there were more leather bags, filled with air, acting as life-preservers and floats.

I began to hope we'd get away, but the more that feeling grew, the more it soured.

"Listen, Captain," I said quietly to him, "I found tunnels flooded. With the mages, we could freeze and melt through..."

"Contact!" the lead Marine called.

We all saw the figures in front of us, before the man who had spotted them let loose with his firelance. The shot cracked out across the harbour, the smoke melted in the rain, but the targets were not to be seen.

"What the fuck," Paulie breathed, "Spirits?"

"Contact left!" said another trooper, the twang of a crossbow whipping in my ear. This time we saw the dark figure disappear, just as the bolt flying was supposed to make its mark. There was even a sort of puff of mist.

"Mages," I said in reply to Paulie, "I didn't know they could do that. I did think getting out was a little easy."

"And there's nothing you can do about this?" he growled in reply, "Like, reach out and stop their magic?"

"My thing doesn't work that way," I said with regret, "Looks like we're screwed. Squad, halt!"

The squad didn't obey the command, until Paulie repeated it. Once again, they circled around, the barrels of their weapons sweeping the rocks for the target, hoping the targets would present for long enough to hit.

"Remember what I said," I whispered to Paulie, "The tunnels."

Paulie didn't have any time to acknowledge my order, before I raised my voice to top volume.

"You've got me! Come on out! You knew I was going to try and escape! No need for bloodshed, you win!"

There was a flapping of wings above, sending us all looking skyward. It was a god damned seagull, at least for a few seconds as it glided down towards us. It transformed into a woman as soon as it was at the correct height for her to land on her feet, the mage skidding to a halt. All around us, more figures began appearing. There were seven in total, including the woman, all dressed just as Ianto's other pirates were save for their bladed staves.

I was beyond being surprised.

"Shapeshifters," I said flatly, "That's new."

"You will all walk back to the fort," their leader declared in an accent I couldn't identify, her tone resolute, "Now."

As if.

"Eat shit, mage," Paulie replied in Orlesian, "We're taking the Marquis home, where he can come up with a plan to cook and eat you."

The leader regarded him with cool eyes over a black bandana that covered her face,

"I do not speak … whatever that was," she said, "Come with us or we'll kill you all."

"Reckon we'll tag most of you before you can do that," Paulie replied again, this time in Common, "So try it bitch."

Firelance flints being cocked sounded off around the squad, though the patter of the rain around us didn't give me much hope for what would happen if the triggers were pulled. Our weapons had rainguards, Julie had made sure of that, but they were a half-measure.

"I'll go back with you," I declared, "You only need me."

"Ianto commanded..." the leader began.

"I don't care," I said, "Paulie, go now."

The Jaderites began to move off, and just as I thought, the pirate-mages did nothing. They stood there as Paulie and his marines walked right past, jumped back in the water and swam off. All of them were watching me. Once I was sure they weren't going to attack my people from range, I walked over to the leader.

"Ianto put me somewhere I could get out, didn't he?" I asked.

"He wanted you to understand there is no escape," she replied, "And that we will enact punishments on those remaining should you flee again. Regardless of the consequences."

Now I was surprised. That was not an attitude of a pirate.

"You can't spend all that slave money if you're dead," I said, "Not worried about that?"

"We serve the Dread Pirate Ianto," the leader replied, "He found us as prey, and made us into predators. We will never be prey again."

A determination that would be tested, sooner or later.

I was taken back to Ianto, back to an intact set of quarters in the former Circle section. Nothing fancy, like the First Enchanter's quarters used to be, just one of the mage rooms. The man was still at his damn papers, scratching away. He had two bodyguards, huge men with long dirks that seemed to occupy half the volume of the room.

They really have embraced the pirate aesthetic, I thought to myself.

The mage-leader pointed to a chair I was to sit in, and I obliged. I felt nothing but weariness in my bones. The chair looked comfortable, leather and all. I felt huge relief as I finally collapsed into it. Paulie had been told about the tunnels. Maybe they had come up with a similar plan to the one I had thought of, maybe not. But now, I knew for sure that an assault was in the works, and it had my blessing.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" Ianto mused over his papers, blowing a bit of ink dry.

"I'm soaked through to the skin," I pointed out.

"Yet you seem in better spirits," the pirate noted aloud, "I wonder why that is."

"I'm just reflecting on my life choices with more humour than before, is all," I replied, "If you had told me a few years ago that I was going to be the prisoner of an actual pirate on another world, and that he wants to use me to breed an army of super-mages, I would've asked you to stop playing Dungeons and whatever."

Ianto looked at me funny. "I'm not sure I like the fact you're suddenly in a good mood," he said, "Maybe your friends told you of a plan to break you out. Maybe you ordered one."

"Maybe I did," I smirked, "That would mean you're more or less fucked, wouldn't it? Maybe I don't care as much about my people as I do about stopping your fucking evil plan?"

"Maybe, maybe, maybe," Ianto repeated, "Unfortunately for you, I am not your only enemy."

"That won't stop my people giving you their full attention," I said.

Ianto put his paper aside and took up another, dipping the quill in an inkwell. He began scratching away at the next piece of paper, ignoring me for quite some time. I shivered in my chair, my rest interrupted by the cold. And I managed to get irritated.

"What does a pirate write about?" I asked, "Love letters?"

"I have many clients," Ianto said, "Tevinter, Orlais, Rivain, Antiva... even the Qun, though they think they're corresponding with someone else entirely. The network must be maintained with regular contact. You know this. Your wife does much the same with the nobles and merchants, the same ones who have been talking about ideas like hers for almost a century now."

"So you're just sitting there, keeping in touch," I thought aloud, "While I freeze to death in this chair? Imaginative torture technique."

"We're waiting," Ianto said, "And I'd appreciate if you could wait in silence."

"Or what? You'll have one of my subordinates burned to death?"

Ianto's eyes flashed with something beyond calm. "Not a bad idea, Monsieur Marquis."

That shut me up really quickly, and for what seemed like an age, Ianto wrote and I watched. I glimpsed some of what he was writing, in the chicken-scratchings of the dwarven script of course. It appeared to be what he had said it was, from what little I could see of it. For all I knew, he was putting the whole thing in code.

After a few minutes, more goons showed up, no small number. They were escorting a number of my soldiers. All of them female, all of them sleepy like they had just been woken up... all of them of a certain type.

Let me put it this way; Mariette was in the bunch.

That they looked unharmed was little comfort, considering I knew what was going to happen next. They were pushed up against a wall, and told to stay there.

"Pick one," Ianto declared, "Any of one of these is acceptable. If it makes you more cooperative, I can tell you that this is the only time I will ever ask you to do this with someone who hasn't chosen it. But you will choose."

"Go fuck yourself," I replied.

"Hit him."

Before I could so much as blink, the world falls on my head. Or to be more precise, one of the sledges that the nearest goon called a hand. Sledges was a particularly ugly Nevarran, judging by his tattoos of the royal crest. Next thing I know, I'm spilled out of the chair and on the floor, seeing stars.

"Not on the head, you imbecile," said Ianto venomously, "This is a negotiation, and I'd like him lucid. Put him back in the chair. Hugo, you take over."

I was lifted back into my seat, and the room stopped spinning enough for me to focus on the pug-faced bastard in front of me.

"Pick one, Marquis," I mimicked in his voice, "In what fucking universe do you think I would do that?"

I laughed, probably a little manic. The thought of Aurelia's samurai and McNulty's Grenadiers pouring out of every tunnel, and just tearing these little shits to pieces filled my skull with warmth.

"I think we have established that you do not care about yourself," Ianto stated. He grabbed something from behind his chair; a giant pair of bolt-cutters, or rather, rope-cutters.

"I bet you wouldn't cooperate even if I started hacking away at you. I don't actually need you to have arms, or legs, anything except what keeps you alive and what you use to make children really."

"God damn right," I sniffed.

"But as I've mentioned," Ianto continued, "I have many, many of your people. I will inflict extreme pain and injury on them. I will do it in front of you. I'm considering carving off your eyelids for the occasion."

Can't close your eyes without eyelods. A flutter of doubt went through my heart. No time for it.

"My people understand what letting you do this would mean," I said back, "You're going to screw with the balance of things. People they care about back home are going to die because of it."

Ianto let the cutters fall to the desk with a clatter, and leaned on his palms over it.

"This isn't about them," he said, "This is about you. I don't think you can stomach your men being taken apart in front of you."

"Yes, I can," I said. Too quickly.

"Liar," Ianto said, "Or perhaps you're more afraid of what will happen to the women once they're sold. But I'm not here to see how far you'll resist before you break. That is not my goal. I am simply willing to do anything it takes. And I do not only mean violence. There are incentives to play as well."

"What can you possibly give me as a carrot?" I laughed, "How can I possibly trust you?"

Not even sure I believed my defiance at this point. I really did not want to comply, but I really did not want to see my people disemboweled in front of me.

Ianto smirked. "My trade is very simple, we take what we can, we sell to whoever buys, and our word is our bond. If you do not cooperate, I promise you that I will sell your women into slavery, I promise you that you will see every heart of every one of your men ripped out of their chests."

He paused.

"But cooperation does have its rewards. I was hoping that you would crack before now, but I suppose I must put all my cards on the table."

He sat back down in his chair.

"I have spent the last six months talking to all your enemies. The ones you know about... The Marcher lords, the Templars, the Qun... The ones you don't... The Antivan Merchant Princes, the Armada, the Nevarrans. About a month ago, I organised a sit down with all of them in Starkhaven."

My mouth went dry. That was quite a group. But surely he couldn't have...

"I know what you're thinking. They absolutely could not have agreed to come together to fight you. Well, you're right and you're wrong. They didn't agree to fight together really, but decided to coordinate their attacks. In truth, it's a mess, but the odds are still good for them. That they'll end up fighting each other the same minute Troy is burning doesn't bother any of them."

I rolled my eyes. What an absurd idea. "Now who's the liar?"

Ianto shrugged, and took a stack of parchments off his desk.

The first bore the seal of Vael.

"Starkhaven, Tantervale and Nevarra are building a massive army, with companies from most of the rest of the Marcher states. Your friends all over the region are causing all sorts of trouble for them getting it together, but when it does... It's going to be able to break you all on its own."

The second paper had seven seals. I recognised at least two of them as those of trading companies.

"Antiva is financing the whole thing, and will probably send every Crow breathing after you if you manage to beat off the Marchers. And if you survive that, they'll buy up half of Rivain and throw that at you instead."

A document on higher quality paper next, the Qun's sigil in all four corners and a devotional thought for the day at the bottom.

"The Qun and the Armada have put together a fleet to swat away yours, and an army to land at Hercinia to walk into Val Halla under the dreadnoughts' cannons. Reckon they'll get you first, the Qun probably won't wait around."

Finally, a letter with the Antivan royal arms atop it.

"And I know this, because my role was to keep your people distracted by this whole drama, and remove you from the decisionmaking they'll need to do once they realise any of this is happening."

I felt like my body had stopped functioning, like I was chained up.

"It can't be true," I said, "You're bullshitting me."

Ianto nodded, as if I had confirmed something.

"I doubted you would believe me. After all, you don't actually know that much about how things were here, before your arrival on this world. Everything you talk about, your pamphlets say, they talk about complaints that people have had for nearly two hundred years now. "

I shook my head. The bastard continued.

"Do you know how many major peasant revolts and burgher uprisings there have been in that time? More than you can count on both hands. The last Blight sparked off more than a few. It may not have spread from Ferelden technically, but farming was affected across the entire world."

Ianto half-threw his documents back on the desk, and made grandiose movements with his hands, smiling all the while over his nose at me.

"But you fine people collected together the complaints, the indignities, and you proposed something to resolve them. All of them. In a way that seems so simple now as to make the rest of us look foolish and Madame Marteau look... prophetic. But there are plenty of people who benefit from the way things are, or think they do, and they're terrified of you."

He crouched down to my level, the swirling tattoos on his arms appearing in front of my face. They were actually pictures of sharks and sea serpents, I noticed.

"Is it really so hard to believe they'd join together to destroy you?"

It wasn't. It really wasn't. On the Earth I had left behind, any number of other powerful realms sought to overcome the domination of the world by my country. Its history is also littered with examples of coalitions built to stop 'revolutionary' movements or invasions by those with different ideological goals.

"Your cooperation can buy everyone you care about back in Troy breathing space," Ianto said, "A chance to win, eventually. Cooperate with me, and I will release every single man and woman to fight. I will even leave the weapons you have stationed here. I will give them everything I know of the plan to destroy your people."

"But only if you cooperate."

I bit down hard. The information being genuine was the crux of the matter. Could I trust Ianto that he was telling the truth, that he would betray the huge coalition he had put together? Betrayal was very his style, but truthfulness wasn't.

But I managed to shake myself out of the thought. The price was still too high.

"You're wondering if I would keep my word after betraying my allies," Ianto added with a scratch of his chin, "But I was very careful with my language. I didn't say I would kill you, I didn't say I would hold you prisoner, I said I would distract you for a while and left it an open question as to what I meant by that. When I say I will do something, I do it. But no further, unless I benefit."

God Almighty, my mind boggled, Ianto was a lawyer.

The man stared at me expectantly for a good long while. Letting me process the offer, patiently waiting for me to crack. But I was stuck on a different train of thought entirely. My brain capacity was taken up with some pretty hard math. Math involving distances, troop numbers, supply lines, shipping lanes, the range of Qunari blackpowder weapons.

No attempted invasion of Val Halla would go unnoticed. There was simply no way to approach the place easily, except by sea, and Admiral Fisher had coastal pickets for watching that.

The question was how prepared could our people be? Would it be enough?

Another calculation in the mix. My head was hurting enough already from Sledges' contribution to the discussion, and it was slow going. I didn't want to make a decision only to find myself fucked on the result. I needed more information, but none was forthcoming. It's not like I could ask him how many ships or legions the Qunari were sending. He likely didn't know that, and more than likely could not have even guessed how many were stationed at Kont'aar.

Without that information, there was only one way I could go. I turned my head towards my subordinates.

"Ladies... Here are my orders," I stated as clearly as I could, "Under no circumstances are you to cooperate with or volunteer for this man's requests. You know what that mean for you. I trust your judgment as to how much you should take. You are to escape or kill whoever holds you. Surrender is not permitted."

I didn't get to see the reaction of my people, because Hugo and Sledges grabbed me by the sides of the head and forced it in Ianto's direction again. He was nodding at another lackey, who promptly went and cleared the desk.

"Bad things are going to happen now," Ianto mused aloud, "Another thought came to me just now. Selling your soldiers is actually less profitable than another thing. Children go for quite a bit of coin in certain places. Tevinter especially. If I can't use you for breeding stock, I can use your subordinates instead. The magisters love obedient child-slaves, for all sorts of purposes."

He pointed off out of my sight, and nodded yet again.

There was ruckus, the sound of a struggle between the pirates and my soldiers. Grunting, shouts, the rasp of metal on leather as blades were drawn. There was the thump of fists being thrown, and the drag of feet over the stone floor. Each noise stoked the anger inside me. I was getting as bad as I had been in the cell.

Two of the thugs threw a naval ensign half-onto the table where Ianto's documents were, and held her down on her stomach, her legs kicking wildly trying to connect with one of them. The obvious set up for the next part.

"Again, I am not doing these things because they amuse me," Ianto stated matter-of-factly over the struggle, "Cooperate or we'll begin plan B in front of your eyes."

I just stared back, hoping to pour as much of my hate out of my eyes at him as possible. I couldn't move.

But he wasn't only speaking to me.

"Fucking Andraste!" Mariette cried out in Orlesian, "Give in Sam! We'll be rescued soon, what is the point in resisting this when they're going to torture us! We can deal with the consequences later, but save that girl!"

A pang of guilt was thrown on the fire of my anger like a pale of water, just enough for me to regain some control and look at the ensign again. Mariette was right. The Navy's age requirements were less stringent than ours. She couldn't have been north of seventeen years old.

"I volunteer!" Mariette shouted, in Common this time, "Stop this! I volunteer!"

Ianto made another wave gesture at his thugs, and they pulled the ensign up onto her feet again, waiting for further orders. The man himself paced around me to talk to those behind.

"What do you mean, 'I volunteer'?" the sea-snake hissed, suddenly displeased, "Do you seriously believe that your selflessness would save the girl? Do you take me for a sentimental idiot? Have you not been paying attention? How would switching you out for her help me in any way?!"

Ianto paused, patting the top of my head.

"Unless you mean something to each other?" he purred suddenly, the smile of realisation audible in his tone, "That would very much help me break him. Thank you."

Some goons began to move towards the women again, likely on Ianto's orders.

"You are misunderstanding!" Mariette said quickly, as much to save herself as to clarify, "Put me in a room with him alone and you'll have what you want! He can't resist me, he never could!"

What a liar Mariette was. Spinning a story with half-truths. It worked too. The goons stopped moving. But that took me out of the decisionmaking, and I wasn't about to let that happen without a fight.

"General de Villars, you will not-"

"Shut up Sam!" Mariette snapped at once, returning to Orlesian, "This isn't about us, this about keeping our people safe. You know the High Command won't let this madman away, worrying about that is not our job. Protecting our people is, both those that are here and those back in Troy."

"We're talking about kids here," I growled back, "You seriously want to be knocked up?"

"I already said we'll deal with the consequences," she said, "What I don't want is to watch a gang-rape and then be the victim of one, thank you very much!"

If I could have thrown up my arms at that point, I would have. I couldn't beat that argument. I realised I was being a giant selfish ass. I was asking the impossible.

Ianto moved back into view.

"Well then, Marquis," he said, very pleased with him, "It looks like even your subordinates are in agreement. So what will it be? A life of luxury and excess in return for freeing your people and your realm of the danger it faces does not seem like a bad deal?"

I capitulated.

Not because I thought the deal was good, or that Ianto would keep it. I accepted it because to ask my troops to endure what they would have to if I refused would have been too large, and the mere possibility of giving Troy warning of what was coming was too important to ignore.

I should've realised that Ianto would be the biggest bastard possible about it though.

Mariette and I were brought to the best room in the entire complex, the former quarters of the Revered Mother overseeing the spiritual well-being of the facility. Chantry being the Chantry, it was ostentatious in the extreme, although the bombardment of the keep hadn't done wonders for it.

Dust had been knocked from the old mortar of the brickwork, and had only been lazily brushed off most of the surfaces. The bed was the old four poster sort with curtains that could be drawn, as medieval as can be right down to the real feather mattress and pillows. It still had a dusty smell.

We were marched into the room, and told to strip. We both complied. We were told to wash with water in a large bucket and cloth. We did as we were told.

Mariette's body was a mess of bruises. Mine was worse, judging by the look she gave me. That made me feel more embarrassed than the nakedness, strangely. But neither that, nor the dust, the circumstances, even the entire reproductive objective were not going to put us off. Ianto would see to that.

Bottles of wine and glasses were put before us, and we were ordered to drink. I downed my glass in one, and immediately regretted it. There was something in the deep red, the aftertaste was flat and dirty. Mariette had a crossbow pointed in her face for not drinking quickly enough, which she remedied by swallowing the rest of her drink as quickly as I had.

We were drugged.

Mariette and I entered the bed, and got under the sheets. Ianto and crew waited, watching. Assuring return on investment.

I got angry again at that. "I took your deal!" I said from the bed, "But I'm not doing this with you in the room."

Ianto shook his head. "I cannot allow you to use this to delay," he said, "This entire process will take weeks, most likely. Your people may find some way of stopping our ships from arriving safely, or a tunnel we don't know about."

I grit my teeth, deliberately going over the top with it to cover up any possible tell about the tunnels. I had been planning on drawing the whole matter out. Pregnancy is not exactly a certain thing.

Someone cleared their throat, out of our sight, until they revealed themselves to be a female mage. Extremely pale, with extremely black hair, I pegged her as an Avvar of the extreme southern tribes in the Frostbacks, of which there were a few in the Free Army.

"I can assure you there is no need to wait and see," she said to Ianto, "That concoction I gave them... They will not be able to help themselves."

Mariette and I exchanged looks. We didn't feel like that at all, for all the mutual physical attraction. We didn't even feel even slightly drunk yet, and the glasses we had been very large indeed.

Ianto looked up at the ceiling for a moment, arms crossed, before turning on the spot and walking away. The entirety of his entourage save for the mage, who walked towards us. She was someone he trusted implicitly. She looked at us for a little while with amusement.

"I hope what they say is true," she said, "Having that much power at my fingertips is going to be fun."

The implication being that I was going to get her knocked up in future, and she'd join Aurelia on the list of Walking Talking Nuclear Weapons. Not damn likely, I thought to myself, knowing the assault on the keep would come long before then.

The mage left, leaving us alone, laying on our backs with the blankets up to our collars, staring at the awning. We said nothing for a long while. In my case, I was waiting to see if Ianto would storm back into the room, to see if he was listening or watching through a hole in the door.

"Feel anything?" Mariette asked.

I sighed. "No." Before adding a joke. "Why, do you want to?" I couldn't think of any way to deal with this other than humour.

She slapped my bare shoulder to tell me to shut up. But instead of stinging, something strange happened. Mariette's hand lingered longer than it should have, and I was very glad of it, because it felt unbelievably good. As if her skin was a combination of silk and cocaine.

"That's new," Mariette said, pulling her hand away reluctantly. She looked at it, and at me. Clearly I felt like Silk Cocaine to her too.

"Fuck," I half-whispered, "What in the hell did they give us?"

"No idea," Mariette replied, touching my shoulder again briefly before recoiling, "But it is amazing."

I tried touching her this time, and was barely able to stop myself. It was only the cheek, but my insides felt like a furnace was being stoked. I felt suddenly small and insignificant, yet mighty enough to throw a mountain.

"This has to be addictive," I declared, regaining some modicum of control for the moment, "This is his plan. Make me a junkie on this crap so I'll beg to do his bidding."

"Probably," Mariette agreed, biting her lip, "But that means we have hurry. If this takes too long, we'll both be addicted before we're rescued."

"Assuming it isn't so addictive that we're already hooked," I replied, "And it'll take two weeks at least for Ianto to be sure, even if we're successful today."

So we began our task.

The next two weeks were a complete drug-induced haze of pleasure, and it wasn't as great as it sounds.

Whenver we were on Silk Cocaine, all we could think about was touching each other, the more intimately the better. Ianto had upped the dose of whatever the hell we were on, noticing that we were still lucid after the first day. It assured our cooperation as he hoped.

The next weeks we spent most of the day rutting like mindless animals. At certain points, we had to be separated in order to eat, drink and see to other bodily needs, because we completely forgot to attend to that. If they hadn't checked regularly, I am completely certain even to this day that both of us would have lost consciousness or even died from exhaustion or dehydration.

At night, we were separated again to sleep and rest. Unfortunately, Silk Cocaine doesn't discriminate, and even the touch of the guards felt utterly delightful. At one point as I was being brought back to my cell, one a little more secure than the original, I kissed one of the thugs deeply, tongue and all, begging for him to touch me more.

Not a pleasant memory.

In the twilight hours before sleeping, as I came off the drug, and in the mornings, I felt utterly pathetic and useless. Ianto would have broken me very quickly indeed if it wasn't for the hope of rescue I was absolutely sure was coming. When you're on that stuff, all you want to do is touch and be touched, at first. Then, as the pleasure builds, it's all fuck and fuck and fuck.

The only redeeming feature is that the drug dissipates quickly, and does not give any other physical symptoms. It is not 'directly' addictive, it merely hijacks the sexual pleasure centres of the brain. That is poor consolation to those of us exposed to it.

Ianto knew what he was doing, and grew increasingly satisfied with our state of being, even before the desired result came about.

Every morning, before administering the first dose of the day, Mariette would be tested with a magical spark. Every day for fourteen days, she was shocked. The wine would be put in front of us, and Ianto's digit would point at them. We would drink, and the day would proceed as the previous had.

On the fifteenth, the magical lightning stretched towards Mariette... and immediately dissolved into nothingness. More damn kids, and this time by a woman who was forced into it with chemical assistance. I would've felt like absolute shit, but I was too busy wanting more Silk Cocaine. I was addicted, for the moment.

On seeing that my magical immunity had passed on to Mariette, Ianto said nothing, but sat us both down in his office once more.

The mage from before was brought in, as she was not the usual one that tested Mariette. Again, the test was run, with fire, lightning, ice and even blood magic. Mariette resisted all of it perfectly, her mind and body intact.

"Kirce, your turn," Ianto said to the mage, when the magical prodding was all over, "We have tested the claim of immunity. Now we must test the claim of power."

He got up from his chair and went to her.

"Ready to become a goddess?" he joked, with surprising warmth. Was he in love with her? Or capable of acting it out very well? I could not tell, but I was shocked even in my stupor that he could express such feeling, genuinely or not.

"I've been ready since that day on the shores of Jainen," Kirce replied with a laugh, before looking at me, "I'll be sure to give him enough. He shouldn't be given time to contemplate."

"Agreed," Ianto said, moving and placing his hands on both of Mariette's shoulders from behind, "General de Villars, congratulations. I know this isn't what you wanted, but let me assure you, you are now part of a very unique club. We shall discuss next steps in the coming days, but I intend to make you an offer for your child."

Mariette rose from her chair, pulling his hands from her violently.

"It isn't a price you could afford," she smirked, her lupine face baring canines, "Unless you want to step onto a pyre or climb up onto a cross."

I winced, not liking that threat much, given my faith background. Then again, if anyone deserved such a fate, it was the man standing in front of us.

Ianto stood, his face blank and unreadable once more. He didn't get the reference to the cross either.

"Worry not, I do not intend to hand it over to the Tevinters," he said, "Rather, such a person will be useful in my own service."

Mariette was completely taken aback that the man had completely missed the point.

"Take him to the bedroom," Ianto commanded, referring to me, "Kirce, join him. No reason to wait."

With that, I was frogmarched back to the room. Unusually, they had the entire garrison out in the courtyard again. This time, my soldiers organised themselves into parade formations without any orders, as soon as I came into sight. I tried to stop, to speak to them, but the thugs pushed me on. All I could do was give a theatrical shrug to everyone, which at least seemed to raise their spirits a little.

The bedroom had been made up again, as it had been for the past fortnight.

I began the routine I had been forced to adopt by instinct. I stripped, washed myself, put on the robes we had been given, and sat down on the bed. I had done all of this on the assumption that I was being watched again. It was one thing for them to leave Mariette alone with me, it was another to be left alone with one of their own.

But apparently, I was wrong. There was a lot of that going around at the time.

It was just me and Kirce.

The mage looked out from under her hood with slate grey eyes, the lower half of her face covered with a bandana. I inspected her, which was difficult because of her robes, mostly wondering whether or not I'd regret what we were about to do later. Vanity is another sin of mine, to a certain extent.

But I noticed something else entirely. Kirce was unarmed. My desire for the drug they had put me on was replaced with the far older instinct for the kill, the one trained into me at great cost by the military of the greatest power of Mother Earth.

I stood up non-chalantly, as the mage pulled down her robe, revealing a barely controlled tangle of black hair and a pretty face. She paid me no heed, stripping off entirely. She was as thin a creature as I had ever saw and she was young, which only emboldened me.

I sprang at her, sure I could overpower her before she could make so much as a sound.

Kirce betrayed all expectations. She turned at once into a she-bear, transforming in the blink of an eye. My momentum was impossible to stop, I had lowered for the hit like a linebacker. I bounced off Bear-Kirce and recoiled as if it had been her that had tackled me.

I rolled on the ground in pain, half sure I had dislocated my shoulder. It wasn't quite that bad.

The bear made short, rapid grunts as it stood high on its hind legs. It turned to laughter as Kirce returned to her human form, still bald ass naked.

"I was waiting for you to do something like that," she said, "I wanted to see if your touch would change me back to human form. I can see it does not."

Her accent was Avvar, far more so than when she spoke in Ianto's presence, but she was far more well spoken than anyone in the Highlander regiments of the Army.

I got up, the throbbing in my shoulder going away with a rub. My throat tightened. I wanted the drug now, to make the pain sink beneath the pleasure it would bring.

"Take off the robe and lay down," Kirce ordered.

"What about the wine?" I asked, keeping to the euphemism, "You told Ianto..."

"The only way I'd enjoy this was if I gave you that would be if I took some 'wine' myself," she replied, "Lovers on the decoction are more interested in skin contact, it makes them mate more like snakes than humans." That was very much the truth.

Kirce's face turned very ugly, a snarl without the noise.

"Do as I say or I'll turn into a lion and eat you."

That was quite the threat, I was impressed. It made me wonder what that would be like for her, devouring another human being... and if she had done it many times before. That she didn't care about Ianto's plan spoke volumes.

"Not sure I can refuse then," I frowned, "Can I?"

"No."

So we began.

It was considerably more difficult without the drug, and she made demands of me that were … onerous. Yeah, that's the word. That's as polite as I can put it. She became frustrated, and I was given a little of the Silk Cocaine after all. Just enough to get me in the game, but not enough to stop me following orders.

We were very busy when the assault began.

Kirce was not quiet, and I heard the attack first by virtue of that fact alone. The low, muffled sounds of musketry. A few at first, then a larger volley. It sounded more like bubblewrap popping than gunfire, to those who know what bubblewrap is. It could've been anything to someone who doesn't.

But she couldn't not hear it forever. Eventually she couldn't ignore the sound or wave it off.

It took a great deal of discipline on my part to wait for the right moment. If she managed to get away from me for even a split second, she might escape my anti-magical aura, turn into a predator and tear me limb from limb. She'd be picking me out of her teeth for hours.

I needed to concentrate on the job at hand for as long as I could. Every second that passed brought the assault force closer to my room, liberation to hand.

I am not sure how long I managed to delay exactly, but the illusion that everything was fine was shattered by rapid and massive explosions. Far too large to be grenades. The artillery batteries in Hightown and on the docks had obviously been re-established and were now targeting the Gallows once more.

I was behind Kirce at the time, and as I felt her freeze in realisation of what was happening, I threw my arm around her neck and pulled her to the ground. We tumbled off the bed and onto the ground. My back throbbed with pain from the impact, as I tried to turn us both so my weight was on top.

To Kirce's credit, she wriggled and moved, using her stature and position to free herself rather than competing in strength with me. We were both soaked with sweat as it was. It took every ounce of strength to keep her in place.

She began to slow down, tiring perhaps. Triumph rose in my throat, and I began to laugh manically. I was going to be free.

Kirce bit me hard on the forearm, drawing blood and leaving a lasting scar. I held on, just long enough for a small blade to get stuck into my side. Exactly where Mariette had once stabbed me with a poison dagger, in fact. The blade wasn't anything like the length that weapon had been, so I wasn't in danger of dying, but it was enough.

Kirce finally wriggled free. One breath, she was scrambling away on all fours. The next, she was bounding away in the form of an Orlesian Great Bear, making the grizzly she had turned into before look like a mouse. The largest mammalian predator on Thedas completed its 'escape' and turned around, bearing fangs the size of short swords.

And there I was, buck ass naked on the floor between a bed and the wall. My elation at my approaching escape turned to utter dread, provoking my fight or flight response into immediate action.

I had only one choice; flight. I rolled under the bed. As fleeing goes, it isn't the most impressive, but the door wasn't exactly accessible at the time. The bed was a heavy four poster, heavily built. Large enough for me to avoid her trying to grab me from the side. Three cheers for Chantry decadence.

I heard Kirce the Great Bear snap off the posts above the level of the mattress, and began tearing through the fabric above me. Feathers and wood fell to either side, as the claws began scratching at the bed slats with every swipe. The frame creaked as the full weight of the creature leaned itself forwards to allow maximum effort.

The bed finally gave way. The mattress was cored out, the slats slashed aside.

Kirce looked down at me, and roared, wanting me to die afraid as well as messily. The self-indulgence killed her.

Icicles burst from the bear's chest like spears, a dozen of them at least appearing in a flash from above and impaling her. Kirce's life gushed out as her body slumped onto the remains of the bed, pouring onto my upper torso and head.

The smell and taste of iron filled my mouth and nose, as I pulled myself out from under the bed blind, scooping the ichor from my eye cavities. Someone helped me to my feet and brought me away a few steps before I could see again.

I half-expected to see Aurelia standing as my saviour, given the power of the magic that had just saved me. It was my brothers-in-law instead, Marcus and Quintus, accompanied by a squad of their legionnaire-samurai. Given how powerful Aurelia is and was, I sometimes forgot that they too were descendants of the First Outlander and had some of that power.

My knees almost gave out with relief, as Quintus staggered to keep me upright. Everyone present looked absolutely shocked to see me in the state I was.

"Sorry we're late, Marquis," Marcus explained, "We didn't know what building you were in. We had telescopes watching the keep from Hightown for weeks. You were only spotted this morning, and the troops were in the courtyard, we had to act."

I nodded, understanding the delay. "Ianto," I gasped, "Please tell me you got Ianto."

"No sign of him so far," Quintus replied, "We lost a third of the garrison taking the courtyard, they were rioting in support of the attack but the pirates were prepared. But all officers and the Commanding-General of the OSS are accounted for. She was in the courtyard too."

So Mariette wasn't put to the sword at least. I straightened up, catching more of my senses again.

"Where is Soprano?" I asked, "I need to speak with her."

The two Tiberian brothers exchanged glances.

"The General returned to Troy, leaving me in command," Marcus said, "A political crisis has developed over what to do. It appears much of the world is mobilising to invade, but we cannot be sure of the accuracy of the reports." At least our intelligence system hadn't broken down entirely in the absence of Mariete.

"The reports are very accurate," I said, "Ianto was the one who organised it all. His documents are around here somewhere. Has the Kirkwall nobility been detained?"

"Yes, Soprano marched them to the Viscount's dungeons as soon as the Gallows were seized from us," Quintus said, "Said she'd leave it to you to decide their fate."

Their treachery was probably not complete. It was likely a select cabal that had plotted with Ianto. But the others would have known a plot was afoot, and would know who was a part of it. They feared our revolution and would look the other way to see it smothered.

Time to show some revolutionary fire.

"March them down here and have the surviving members of the garrison execute them by firing squad," I ordered, "Same with any surviving pirates. Display the bodies on the walls. Inform Captain Vallen we have annexed Kirkwall as a province of the Trojan Republic, and she is hereby made Military Governor of Kirkwall with full autonomy. Tell her that she can earn the right of her city to fly its own flag again in future, through loyalty in the coming war."

Neither of the Tevinters in front of me showed so much as a twinge of objection to that. They were well used to such measures. Kirkwall's independence was formally ended. My patience for it was exactly zero.

In fact, I had been thoroughly broken on the whole subject of nobles, of Thedas' petty tyrants in general, criminal or otherwise.

"Get me a uniform and a weapon," I said, "We'll secure the island, and get back to Troy."