I'M BACK!

Thank you guys so much for your support. I would be so lost without my lovely reviewers!

The reviews made my muse fire right up! I couldn't type fast enough, I was just so pumped!

Alepad: Thank you! I'm glad you're following me!

Alkeni: I'm flattered you have such faith in my decision-making abilities :P. I partially asked because it takes me so long to make a decision and stick to it; I want to save my readers the time it would take.

ImagineBagginsDragon: I'm afraid there's no way to kill Anora in the game. I bet Avina really wishes there was XD but I'm tickled by your enthusiasm. I absolutely love reading your reviews, and I hope you keep enjoying the story and leaving them for me!

For those of you who are a bit confused, I sort of mixed up this chapter. I always wondered why both scenarios happen during Captured! So I wrote it in. Feel free to leave criticism.

Cookies for all the readers!

And, more importantly, a chapter!

Captured!

Alistair

So far, the plan of storming the fort, rescuing the damsel (and Daylen) in distress, and somehow getting back out is going rather well.

Well, they haven't made it through the second door, but they're making progress!

"I can't believe that worked," Alistair murmurs quietly.

Morrigan's eyes narrow. "Nor can I. Your acting is atrocious."

Alistair glares back. "Well, it was good enough to get us this far."

Morrigan crosses her arms. "And that shall comfort our dear Wardens, I am sure, if we get no further than the front door."

At that moment, the captain comes in. "All right," he says irritably. "What's this about?"

Morrigan stops Alistair before he can speak. "We have a delivery for the fort."

"I haven't been notified about any delivery," the captain says suspiciously.

Morrigan raises her eyebrows innocently. "You wish to refuse it? Fine, but you must speak with the Weaver Crafthall. I will not take it back to them for you."

The captain groans. "Fine, fine. Take it to the main hall."

And they're allowed to pass.

With a small smile of satisfaction, Alistair hurries through the doorway, around the corner and down the hall into the main hall.

It must be the largest room in the building, with two ballistae at each wall. There are about six guards scattered about the room, with one standing between them and the next door.

Alistair stops, uncertain. "All right, we need a plan."

"If you wish to plan, do it quickly," Morrigan hisses. "They may be taking the Wardens for execution as we speak."

The closest guards are two men. The guard at the door is a severe looking blonde woman.

"I'll handle this," he whispers, and strolls up to the two gentlemen.

Avina

"If you're not bleeding, I don't care," the guard snaps.

Daylen gives him a panicked look. "But... the other prisoner... I think she's dying!"

Avina lays at the back of the cell, her skin magically heated and her face as pale as she can make it with blood magic.

The guard's brows lower, and he opens the cell to come closer.

It's exactly what Daylen's been waiting for.

"What's wrong with you, then?" The guard demands.

There's a thud as Daylen hits hits him on the back of the head as hard as he can. The guard crumples, his eyes rolling back in his head and he falls limply to the ground.

Daylen hisses through his teeth, shaking his fist. "I think I broke my hand," he gets out.

"Let me see."

A quick wave of healing magic resets the bones, mending them together as best she can.

Daylen opens and closes his fist, looking impressed. "Right. Let's get out of here."

Daylen takes the guard's uniform, along with his key, and leaves him in the cell as if he were the prisoner.

It won't kill him. Eventually they'll realize what happened, she's sure.

At the other side of the room is a chest, full of everything they took from the two of them. Avina eagerly puts her robes back on, gripping the worn handle of her staff in her hand, comforting in it's familiarity.

"If anyone sees us, don't hesitate," Daylen whispers. "I may look like a guard, but you're too conspicuous. We'll have to kill them."

Avina nods, her eyes gravely serious.

Alistair

"I'm sorry to bother you," Alistair tells the two guards.

The red-haired man with the ponytail eyes him. "What do you want?"

Alistair puts on his best 'clueless blonde' expression. "What are you doing hanging around in the hall? I'm sure this is a nice fort, but I wouldn't want to spend all my time here."

The guard shrugs. "Well... you never know."

The other guard, a bald man, nods. "We might be needed at any time."

"Right," Alistair agrees slowly. "Bandits might steal... ballistae, or something. Very large bandits. There's probably a black market for... siege weapons somewhere."

The bald guard scratches the back of his head with a smirk, glancing back at the lady guarding the door. "Well, I can't say the... ah... scenery here isn't a good argument for spending time here."

Furiously, the red-haired guard whirls on him. "What?! You never said you had your eye on Tanna!"

The bald one shrugs, turning to him. "Of course I - you... you poacher! You're eyeing her, too!"

"I've been posted here longer than you have! You're the blighted poacher, you mangy little runt!"

Alistair isn't sure who the first one to throw a punch is.

They're beating at each other mercilessly before he knows it, drawing the other three guards to watch the fight.

"I didn't quite expect that," Alistair admitted. "I mean, it's certainly a distraction. I just wanted to maybe cause one on purpose."

Morrigan isn't paying attention, already heading towards the woman guarding the door. Alistair rushes to catch up to her.

"State your business," the woman says stiffly to Morrigan.

"So this is your lot in life," Morrigan drawls. "Are you satisfied?"

"What do you mean?"

Morrigan gestures to her. "They task you with standing here. For hours. All day, perhaps? What a life you must lead. Full of wonder and excitement."

The guard frowns. "That's true, I guess..."

Morrigan crosses her arms. "No doubt your masters prefer that you never think on it. Better that their peons continue to think themselves free."

Alistair has to admit... She is good at this.

"You have a point," the woman declares. "This isn't what I had in mind when I signed on with the army. You know, I joined the army to follow in my father's footsteps. To make him proud. And what do I get? Barracks detail. Would he be proud of that? Andraste's ass, he would... I'm going to live my life before it's too late. Let someone else guard their stupid door."

And with that, she marches past Morrigan and out of the hall.

But just as they open the door, a group of guards is about to go through it, and notices them.

This can't be good, is the last thing Alistair manages to think before he hurries to come up with an excuse.

Daylen

It's nothing less than a miracle that they manage to find a woman's guard uniform in one of the storage areas. It fits Avina well enough, and hopefully they'll be able to slip by undetected.

They walk through the halls as if they're supposed to be there, keeping their postures as straight and professional as they see other soldiers'.

They manage to accidentally get rid of one of the other guards, tricking him into thinking they're there to replace him. Really, it wasn't Daylen's fault the man jumped to conclusions. Even so, if they're forced to fight their way out, that'll be one less.

But as they pass a room, a voice calls out to them, stopping them.

"What's this?"

Daylen swallows, and motions for Avina to follow him. It's an office, with a desk and an important looking man behind it.

"Ah!" He booms. "You must be the new recruits we were getting. You're late! The rest of your patrol is in the storage room. Find them, and get yourselves ready for inspection."

With a mental sigh of relief, Daylen beats his chest in a salute. "Yes, ser!"

Then he turns tail and scuttles out of there.

He's just gotten them a ticket out.

The two members of the patrol are indeed in the storage room.

"Did you need something?" One of them asks.

Daylen squares his shoulders. "I have orders to get you ready for inspection."

"Thank the Maker," he sighs in relief.

The other guard gets to his feet. "But... what are we going to do about him, though?"

The first sighs.

"Is there a problem?" Avina demands, her voice sharp and authoritative. She sounds like a soldier.

"The assistant quartermaster... is a little miffed with us at present," the second explains.

"I told you we should've put those potatoes in the cellar straight away," the first guard grumbles.

"Some things went amiss. Mistakes were made. The quartermaster got chewed out by Teyrn Loghain, and then he chewed out the assistant..."

"And now to get back at us for landing him in trouble, the assistant quartermaster won't give us our blades. And you can't pass inspection without a regulation sword."

"I'll handle him," Daylen assures them.

He'll just act surprised when they realize he's not at his post.

The second guard nods. "He's down the hall, in the armory."

"Maker help us," groans the first.

Another trip down the hall, into the empty storage room.

"He's not here," one of them says.

"Well, don't just stand there! Get your blade and let's report to the colonel before he gets back!"

Soon enough they're standing before the colonel.

He looks them up and down. "So, you think you're ready to go on your first patrol mission, do you?"

"Yes, ser!" Daylen answers.

The colonel smiles. "That's what I like to hear!" He looks at the guard standing beside Avina. "You there!"

"Yes, ser!"

"Stand up straight! You're a soldier in the King's army, and the King's own men don't slouch!" Then he looks at the guard at the end. "And you!"

"Yes, ser!"

"Stop fidgeting. You can fidget on your own time."

"Yes, ser!" The guard replies, saluting. "Thank you, ser!"

"Kiss-arse," the other guard mutters under his breath.

Then he looks at Avina.

Daylen holds his breath.

"You there," he snaps. "Young lady."

Her face is stern. "Yes, ser!"

"What's the one thing a soldier can't do without?"

Avina thinks for a moment. "Discipline, ser!"

The colonel nods, seemingly impressed by her answer. "I expect the lot of you to be back here by sunup. Now get out of here. And Maker watch over you."

Daylen doesn't need to be told twice.

He jogs back down the hall, right up to the guarded door. He doesn't know the password, but he won't be needing it, he knows.

"Password?"

One of the men behind him speaks up. "Uh, 'Rabbit', I think?"

The guard with the mustache nods. "Going on your first patrol, are you? Good luck."

Daylen nods back, and they open the door.

Only to run into two very familiar faces.

"Oh, pardon me," Alistair says, then he takes a good look at them. "Wha-"

Daylen cuts him off, his eyes screaming for him to shut up. "Excuse us, civilians," he says. "This is a restricted area."

Morrigan smiles brightly, batting her eyelashes. "Oh, silly us. This fort is simply so large... We came to deliver a package, and forget the way out!"

Daylen grins. "Allow us to escort you out, then."

And just like that, with Morrigan on his arm, the four of them (plus the two guards) walk right out of the front door of Fort Drakon.

Tel'abelas.

Next Chapter: The Landsmeet Part 4

(A/N: there will probably be at least two more of 'Landsmeet' chapters.)