A/N: So, with how busy things have been for me lately, updates might end up being once a month only. I would have had this one up within a month, but I didn't quite get it finished before I had to go away on vacation without my laptop, so it's even later than I had planned! Sorry everybody :(! I promise that from now on it won't take longer than a month for an update, though, and hopefully I might still manage the occasional biweekly one. Anyway, this one's a bit shorter than the last few, as I thought it would get ridiculously long if I tried to cram the rest of the quest into it, so I decided to cut it a bit short and finish the quest off in the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, and read so far - I'm always happy to see people enjoying it!

Extra special thanks to my awesome reviewers, csorciere, sketchywolf, Ioialoha, WolFang1011, Asilyessam, Lost Space, Candle in the Night, Lethal Dragon, Artanis Rose, and Tactus501st, the winner of the 50th review gift fic! I love hearing from you guys, it totally makes my day and encourages me to keep going!

PLEASE REVIEW, THERE WILL BE ANOTHER GIFT FIC GIVEN TO THE 100TH REVIEWER!

And as always, I don't own anything you recognize as belonging to Bioware, just the rest of the story!

Chapter Eight: Wayward Son

Almost before Mardin had finished the string of curses he'd unleashed upon seeing Brianna's angry, hurt gaze, shaking his now-aching hand, he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. He glanced up to see Isabela trotting down the stairs again. She frowned briefly at him, studying the large crack snaking up the wall next to the stairs. "I told you if you wanted another round, all you had to do was ask. You didn't need to break the wall."

Mardin shook his head. "That wasn't what it was about." He saw the faintly wary look in her eyes now as they slid back to him. The Hanged Man might not be a grand place, but it was sturdily built, and Isabela was obviously observant enough to realize he'd done more damage than the average person could. Damn, but he needed to learn how to blend better. He'd never had to hide his abilities before; he'd always been able to own the fact that he was a shifter, because back home, everyone knew who he was, even if they hadn't met him before. He'd never realized until now just how much he counted on that innate knowledge.

Isabela planted a hand on her hip, the wary look now replaced by a challenging one. "So what was it about, then?"

Mardin sighed. He didn't really want to confide what had happened to anyone, but he didn't really understand just what he'd done wrong. It obviously had something to do with the fact that Brianna had seen him with Isabela; she'd confessed to being jealous of the pirate, but after so firmly rejecting his advances, why was she now upset that he'd gone elsewhere? He truly had no idea; no woman at home had ever cared when he'd moved on to another woman's bed. He clearly needed help understanding the intricacies of mating in this world, and Isabela was right here; he might as well confide in her. "Brianna saw us together just now, and she looked angry and . . . hurt. But I don't understand why."

Isabela's eyebrows shot up, and then she scowled. "I didn't realize I was trespassing, and it's not something I like to do."

Trespassing? What does she mean by that . . . Oh. Mardin shook his head as sudden understanding pierced him. "You weren't trespassing. It's true that we kissed -" well, it had been a bit more than that, but he wasn't sure how else to describe it, " - just before I came back here, but she rejected me. I believe her exact words were 'No, I can't,' before she pushed me away, and ran like . . . like I was a demon, or something. That's why I don't understand."

"'No, I can't?'" Isabela repeated. "You're sure it was that, and not 'No, I don't want to?'"

What did the words matter? Mardin wondered, irritated. No was still no. "Yes, I'm sure. Why does that matter?"

"Men," Isabela sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it matters. If she said she can't, not that she didn't want to, it means something else is stopping her, not the fact that she doesn't want you tossing her down on the nearest bed. Is she married, or something?"

"What?!" Mardin recoiled in surprise. Could he have tried to bed a woman already promised to a life-mate? Such a thing was very forbidden, and the mere thought appalled him. But no, surely Brianna or even Carver would have mentioned something before now if she were married. Wouldn't they? "I-I don't think so."

Isabela descended the last few stairs, passing him before pulling on his arm. "Come on, let's get a drink, and I'll see if I can help you figure out what you did wrong."

Mardin frowned, trailing after her. "What makes you think I did anything wrong?"

"Trust me, handsome, whatever happened, it's your fault somehow." Isabela tossed him a grin and a wink over her shoulder as she headed for one of the small, empty tables in the far corner, where they would have as much privacy as they could expect here. She sat down in a chair, signalling for a drink, and Mardin sat across from her. When the barmaid came, they both ordered drinks, though Mardin asked only for ale this time. He wasn't sure he could stomach any more of what Corff had previously given him.

When the barmaid had gone, he turned his attention back to Isabela. "So, do you know what happened? Because I certainly don't. I've never actually been turned down like that before," he admitted with a shrug.

Isabela grinned. "I'm sure you haven't." She studied him for another moment. "We haven't met before, have we?"

"No," he replied, surprised, but certain, because of course it was impossible. "Why do you ask?"

She waved a hand at him. "No reason, really. There was just something about you that seemed a little familiar. I'm sure I would have remembered if we had met before, though. So, walk me through what happened, and start at the beginning."

So he gave her the basics of what had occurred between himself and Brianna from the beginning, how he'd flirted with her from the start, but she had insisted on getting to know one another first, and how things had never actually gone further until tonight and her abrupt rejection of their embrace. He did not, however, go into any real detail about anything, and completely omitted the discussion they'd had about Isabela herself prior to the embrace, nor did he say just how intimate things had gotten before Brianna had stopped him. In all honesty, he had been completely lacking in control, and would never have been able to stop on his own, in spite of how open and exposed they would have been. Which was another thing that was unusual for him; though he didn't typically practice much restraint, he usually had enough control to at least move to a safer location. This time it hadn't even occurred to him, however. It must have been because it had been so long since he'd been with a woman, he decided.

When he'd finished, Isabela nodded. "I see. Well, Hawke is a mage, after all. You might have seemed like her own personal desire demon. Or it could be the Chantry girl coming out in her. Which is likely; a lot of Fereldans are stiff about having fun."

From what Mardin had managed to glean so far, he knew that the Chantry was the religious order of Thedas, but he didn't know much about their practices beyond their distaste for magic. "I don't understand; what does the Chantry have to do with this?"

Isabela looked a little taken aback. "You don't understand? Where exactly are you from, anyway?"

Damn. This was obviously another thing he was supposed to know, and Isabela didn't know who he really was. Nor was this the time to trust her with such information. "I'm from a small country, very far away, called Fallor," he explained, the lie rolling off his tongue much smoother than it had previously. "We don't follow the Chantry there, so I don't know much about it."

"Fallor, you say?" The barmaid arrived just then with their drinks, and after they'd paid, Isabela took a long pull from hers before setting it down on the table. "I've never heard of it, and I thought I'd sailed nearly everywhere by now."

"Well, it's quite a difficult place to get to," Mardin said with a shrug, hoping Isabela wouldn't dig further right now as he took a drink of his own ale. "Anyway, in Fallor, mating is much more casual than here, it seems. If you are attracted to someone when you meet, you simply ask if you can share their bed, and they say yes or no as they wish. Unless you take a mate for life, there is no offense in asking anyone, and no one objects to anyone moving on to another person. So since Brianna has said no, it means she doesn't want to share my bed, and she shouldn't be angry that I . . . moved on."

Isabela shook her head, looking at him in wonder. "First of all, you need to tell me how to get to this country of yours. It sounds like a blast!" She grinned broadly, and Mardin couldn't help but laugh. Isabela certainly would do well in Fallor, of that he had no doubt. If she ever managed to get there, of course, which was unlikely. "Secondly," she continued, "you definitely don't understand what things are like here." She then explained to him the Chantry's restrictions regarding mating, how it was viewed as a sin to engage in unless the couple was married, and how even someone who did not follow the Chantry's teachings closely might feel pressured to view it as a sin as well.

Mardin scowled. Here was another thing about this world that he did not like or agree with, particularly if it had caused Brianna to turn away from him when he had been so thoroughly enjoying the passion between them. "But mating is a natural thing. It's not something to be ashamed of, unless you're trying to engage in it with someone who is already promised to another."

Isabela nodded vigorously, patting him on the hand in sympathy. "I agree completely! It's one of the many things the Chantry is selling that I'm not buying. But I'm pretty sure it's the reason why Hawke pushed you away. It's the only thing that makes sense, anyway, especially if she was coming back to talk to you and then got mad at seeing us together. You see, most women here will get mad at you if you hop straight into another woman's bed after kissing them. I don't care, but Hawke obviously does, and you want to fix things with her, right?"

"I would like to, but I'm not sure how," Mardin admitted.

"Leave it to me," Isabela told him, taking another drink from her mug.

"Leave it to you?" he repeated skeptically, raising his eyebrows. He didn't know much about how things worked here, but even he doubted that having Isabela pleading his case was a good idea, when she was part of the reason Brianna was mad at him in the first place. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"Trust me, handsome, some things can only be properly explained by another woman. Besides, you're the one she's really angry at. I'll give her a couple of days and then I'll convince her to give you another chance. I can be very persuasive." She gave him a distinctly wicked grin.

"If you say so," he said doubtfully. "What should I do?"

"For now, nothing," Isabela replied. "Give her some time to cool off before you talk to her. And when you do, you might need something else besides your looks and charm. You have plenty of both," she winked at him, "but I don't think that'll work on Hawke, especially after you screwed up already."

"So what else do I need to do, then?" In this area, Mardin had to admit he was completely lost. He knew precisely what to do with a woman in bed, but he'd never had to do anything besides ask to get a woman there.

Isabela shrugged. "You'll probably have to be romantic, which is something I can't help you with. You'll have to get somebody else for that. Are you sure you want to go to this much trouble, though? If all you're looking for is a tumble, my bed is always open."

He smiled at her. "And I do appreciate the offer, but I think I really do want another chance with Brianna. I'm not sure what it was, but there was something different about . . . kissing her, and I want to know what it was." Isabela nodded in understanding, looking almost sad, as it occurred to Mardin that perhaps Varric could help him get back in Brianna's good graces. The dwarf was close with Brianna, so he might be mad at Mardin at first, but Mardin hoped that once he explained that it was an honest mistake, and he truly hadn't meant to hurt Brianna, that Varric would understand and help him. The dwarf knew, after all, that he was from another world where things were quite different. "Why are you helping me, anyway?" he asked Isabela, suddenly curious. "Not that I'm not grateful, of course."

"Well," the pirate replied with a shrug, "if neither one of you is going to have fun with me, you should at least be having fun with each other. You're both too pretty to go to waste."

Mardin had to laugh at that. "Thank you, I suppose."

Isabela winked at him. "You're welcome, handsome. Now," she drained her mug, setting it down on the table, "I'm going to get some sleep, and you should too. In your own bed. I'll let you know when I've managed to talk to her."

"Of course," he nodded, finishing off his own drink before bidding Isabela goodbye and heading for the door. He would simply have to hope that Isabela could convince Brianna, and that Varric was willing to help him, for now that he had a taste of what being with his pretty mage could be like, he was more determined than ever not to give up.

"Bree! I was hoping to find you here!" Carver skidded to a halt in front of Brianna, breathless and flushed, looking as though he'd run the whole way.

Brianna set down the bowl of herbs she'd been attempting to mix together to make a potion the way Anders had shown her, studying her brother with concern. "Carver, what happened? Is it Mother?"

"What? No, Mother's fine." Carver waved his hand impatiently. "It's Merrill. She sent word that someone in the alienage is in trouble, and I can't – that is, I, um, would like your help with it. Uh, please?"

Brianna stared at him in surprise. It was highly unusual for Carver to admit he needed her help, and the fact that he'd done so, however grudgingly, was definitely progress. Maybe Merrill was better for him than she ever could have realized. "Of course, Carver, I'll come right away." She looked over to where Anders was checking on the patient they'd worked on previously. "Anders, I need to leave now."

Anders looked over his shoulder at her, calling back, "Certainly, Hawke. Thank you for your help. Will you need me to come along?"

"I think we'll be okay, thank you," Brianna replied. "If I need you, I'll let you know."

Anders nodded, and Brianna brushed her hands off before following Carver out of the clinic. "So, just what has Merrill gotten herself into this time?" she asked as they began to make their way through Darktown.

Carver sighed. "I'm not entirely sure. She sent word to me while I was training, and well, you know Merrill. All the message basically said was there's an elven woman that's very sad, and she needs help, at least Merrill thinks she does, and couldn't we come and fix things for her, that is, if we're not too busy?"

Brianna laughed. The message did sound very much like Merrill. "Well, we aren't busy, so we might as well find out what it is she needs." There had been no jobs to speak of in the last two days since they'd recovered Saemus, and no matter what strange job Merrill had found or possibly imagined, it had to be better than mixing up potions.

"Well, thank you," Carver said after a moment. "I . . . uh, appreciate it."

"Of course, Carver, it's not a problem," Brianna replied gently. Anything you need, Carver, you just have to ask, was what she wanted to say, but Carver was already clearly uncomfortable, and she didn't want to push him too far by making things more emotional than he was comfortable with. So they continued on their way in silence as they headed from Darktown to the Alienage.

Brianna wondered as they went just how things were going between her brother and Merrill. She knew how Carver felt about the young elf, but she had no idea if Merrill returned her brother's feelings. She obviously liked Carver, but whether her feelings were any deeper than that, Brianna wasn't sure. To be honest, she didn't even know if Merrill understood just how Carver felt about her, as any time she'd seen her brother flirt with Merrill, it had seemed to go right over her head, and Brianna hadn't seen any obvious signs that they were anything more than friends at this point, no matter how much Carver obviously wished otherwise. Not, she thought ruefully, that her own love life was going any better.

Mardin had not once attempted to contact her in the last couple of days, not since she'd made such a fool of herself with him. And though she tried to tell herself that she was glad he hadn't tried to explain himself to her, when it was so obvious that there was nothing to explain, she couldn't help the tiny part of her that wished he would have at least tried, or told her how it was all a big mistake. Merely so she could tell him how she didn't care, of course.

Now that she'd had some time to think about it, she wasn't as mad at him as she had originally been, though. Part of it was really her own fault, after all. She'd known exactly what he was like, that he was a shameless rake that hopped from one woman's bed to another, so why should she be surprised that when she hadn't let things go further that night, he'd simply moved on to the next woman?

But somehow, she had been surprised. It had taken her a couple of hours to gather her wits enough to know how she wanted to explain things to him, and she'd headed back to the Hanged Man in the hopes that he would still be there, drinking or maybe talking to Varric. Instead, she'd seen him kissing Isabela after obviously slinking his way out of her bed, and she'd been shocked, hurt, but above all, angry that he could dismiss her so easily.

So she'd stormed off, refusing to let him explain, nor had she given him the explanation for why she'd left him so abruptly. She had been going to tell him that when she had said she couldn't, what she had really meant was not yet, not there in the street and not so soon. She hadn't meant not ever, at least not then.

There had been two reasons she had so abruptly called a halt to their embrace, neither of which she'd been able to properly articulate at the time. One of them had been the voice of her mother ringing in her head, asking her how she could be doing such a thing in public when it could so easily bring shame to their family. Her mother had come across her in a similar situation when she was only sixteen kissing a boy for the first time behind the barn, and had been positively furious with her, telling her what a bad example she was setting for the twins and especially Bethany. Mother had in no uncertain terms told her she should not be engaging in such activities with a boy unless she loved him, to which she'd had to admit she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that particular boy, and Mother had gone on to say she most certainly should not have done anything in such a public place where anyone could have seen her. They had moved not long after that, which had led to them finally ending up in Lothering, where she had met her other two lovers. She had been careful to make sure her mother never found out about them, however.

The other reason had been her father. Though Father had been much kinder when he'd heard about the incident behind the barn, he had told her that as a mage, she had to be very careful with her desires. She had to make certain that she always had control over them, and that they never overwhelmed or consumed her, for there was no telling what that might unleash. She had never quite understood what he meant, though, for her previous experiences, while pleasant and enjoyable, had never been what she would have called consuming or overwhelming. It wasn't until she'd kissed Mardin that she'd finally understood what Father had meant; her lust for Mardin had been so all-consuming at that moment that she'd nearly let him take her right there on the street for anyone to see. It wasn't until she'd realized just what she was doing and where they were that she'd realized just how far she'd let things go, and it had terrified her. But her wits had been so addled at the time, she'd been unable to explain any of that to Mardin, and so she had simply fled.

And then, by the time she'd gathered her thoughts enough to know what she wanted to say and gone back to talk to him, she'd discovered that he obviously hadn't cared at all. So really, it was just as well she'd left when she had, she told herself. Common sense had prevailed, and it was for the best, anyway. She needed to be careful and maintain control, and obviously she couldn't do that if she entered into a fling with Mardin. He would simply have to be nothing more than a companion to her now, no different than anyone else.

By this point, they had finally reached the alienage, which looked more gloomy than ever with the sky being completely overcast, though it was fortunately not raining yet, which would have made things even worse. Merrill spotted them almost immediately from where she stood comforting an older elven woman, waving enthusiastically to them to come over. Brianna and Carver made their way across the square to where the two elves stood by one of the many bedraggled booths in the alienage.

"Merrill, what's going on?" Brianna asked as they stopped a few feet away. She noticed that the older woman had obviously been crying, tear tracks staining their way through her black facial tattoos, and both her dark blonde hair and simple woollen dress were rumpled, as though she could care less about her appearance at the moment.

"Carver, Hawke!" Merrill smiled brilliantly at them. "I'm so glad you came! I mean, of course you came, I asked you to, but you could have said no, so – "

"Merrill," Carver interrupted her gently, "of course we wouldn't say no if you asked us. Whenever you need something, I – uh – we – will always come to help."

Merrill flushed, ducking her head, and Brianna hid a grin behind her hand. Carver was so clearly head over heels for the young mage, it was almost too cute.

"Um, well, thank you," Merrill managed at last. "This is Arianni. Her son is missing, and I think he's in trouble."

"What happened?" Brianna asked, turning to Arianni. "How did your son go missing?"

Arianni darted a frightened glance to Merrill, who nodded reassuringly. "It's okay. Hawke is like me; she won't turn him in. She can help."

"You – you're an apostate too?" Arianni blurted eagerly.

Brianna shot a quick glance at Merrill, who simply beamed at her, while Carver made a strangled noise next to her. She turned back to the other woman, nodding; it seemed there was no point in denying it. "I am. Is your son one as well?"

"Yes, my son, Feynriel . . . he's all I have, all my family. When I learned he had magic, I could not bear to send him to the Circle," Arianni explained, a tear starting its way down her cheek again as she continued, "But his connection to the Fade . . . it gives him nightmares, dreams of demons, speaking in his mind. I would rather lose him to the Circle than to himself, but he didn't agree. He thinks I betrayed his trust, and so he ran. And now all the Templars are looking for him. Ser Thrask promises to grant him mercy, but only if he turns himself in, and I can't find him anywhere. I don't know what to do!"

The first part of the story, trying to hide a loved one's magical abilities from the Circle, was all too common, but the rest of it was not precisely what Brianna had expected to hear. On the one hand, she could hardly blame the boy for running from the Circle, but on the other hand, if he was already having dreams of demons speaking to him, that was not a good sign. Such a thing was only supposed to happen rarely, and usually only if a mage was in great distress. "What kind of dreams is he having?" she asked Arianni. "Is it happening often?"

Arianni nodded. "Every night, he dreams of demons, calling to him, pulling him into their world. Every day it grows harder to wake him. That is why I turned to the Circle. They are the only ones that can protect a mage from his own powers."

Every night? It was worse than she'd thought. Somebody needed to find this boy before he turned into an abomination and got himself, and possibly others, killed. There was no time to waste. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone, or where we should start looking?" Brianna demanded.

"There are two places where you might start your search," Arianni replied quietly. "Ser Thrask, the Templar I mentioned earlier, has been looking for him. If you speak to him in the Gallows, he'll be able to tell you what ground he's already covered. And Feynriel's father, Vincento, recently returned from Antiva. He's a human merchant in the Lowtown Bazaar. Feynriel might have sought him out. I cannot say if Vincento would have helped him, however. He never wanted anything to do with him before. But I don't know anywhere else that he might have gone."

"Well, we'll start there and see what we find out," Brianna told her reassuringly. "If we do find him, however, what is it you would like us to do?"

"Just – just get him somewhere safe, please," Arianni begged. "I know he does not wish to go to the Circle, but I . . . I truly think they are the only people who might save his life. Ser Thrask seems like a kind man, and a good Templar. If you do find Feynriel, please let him know. I'm sure he will help."

Brianna nodded. She didn't always agree with the Circle, particularly not in cases with average mages who were in control, but this boy sounded like the exact reason the Circles had first come into being. He clearly needed proper training and supervision, and the Circle was unfortunately the only place equipped to provide it right now. And if it was what his mother wished, she was certainly in no position to suggest otherwise. "I will not leave you fearful for a moment longer than necessary," she promised Arianni. "We will go look for him right away. Do you want to come with us, Merrill?"

Merrill hesitated, looking from them to Arianni. "I . . . think it would be best if I stayed here and kept Arianni company. That is, if that's all right?"

Arianni smiled, wiping stray tears away from her face. "I would appreciate it. I've felt so alone since Feynriel left. I have no one else."

"That's a good idea, Merrill," Brianna agreed. "And if Feynriel does happen to come back, make sure to send us word, okay?" As Merrill nodded, promising that she would, Brianna turned to Arianni. "I don't suppose you have something of Feynriel's? Something that would . . . prove you sent us to help?"

"Oh, of course!" Arianni exclaimed. "I do actually have this bracelet that I wove for him." She dug the bracelet, intricately woven from strips of leather, from a pocket of her dress and handed it to Brianna. "He always wore it until he heard about me contacting the Circle. Then he left it behind with his note when he ran away." She sniffled again, wiping at more tears.

"Merrill," Carver said quietly, "why don't you take her to your house while we go look for Feynriel? We'll come back once we've found something out, okay?"

"Oh!" Merrill clapped her hands over her mouth before nodding vigorously. "Yes, right away!" She took Arianni's arm gently, leading the older woman away, and Brianna could hear her saying as she went, "You can sit wherever you like, and I have – well, water, but you can have as much as you'd like. And it will be more comfortable than standing in the square, I think . . ." her voice faded away as the two of them reached the door to Merrill's home on the opposite side of the alienage, and they disappeared inside.

"Let's go get some help," Brianna said to Carver, turning away and heading towards the stairs leading up out of the alienage.

Carver nodded in agreement as he kept pace with her. "The boy sounds one breath away from becoming an abomination. Let's get to him, fast. That bracelet," he went on, "is that for Mardin to track him with?"

"Well, I thought it might help. It probably smells like Feynriel, and it's how I got Buster to track you down that time you ran off." Buster had been her old Mabari hound that she'd had since she was a toddler, who had sadly died of old age not long after Father had passed away. He had been a terrific companion and guardian to both her and occasionally the twins, and had very effectively tracked Carver down one afternoon when they were younger and had gotten into a fight, causing Carver to run away. Buster had proudly dragged her stubborn brother back, his teeth firmly clinging to Carver's pant leg.

Carver made a face at her, clearly remembering the incident as well. "He's not a dog, you know."

"I know that!" Brianna protested. "But he said he could track by scent, and I have to assume it works much the same as it would for a dog. It couldn't hurt to try, anyway."

She'd actually briefly considered not asking Mardin to help at all, not wanting to see him just yet, as it was sure to be awkward and embarrassing. She'd even avoided the Hanged Man the last couple of nights, claiming to be too busy helping Anders, just so she wouldn't have to talk to Mardin. She hadn't told anyone the real reason she didn't want to go, of course, not wanting to confide in anyone about her embarrassing lack of judgment.

Bethany had been the one she'd talked to about boys, once her little sister had been old enough to understand, that is. But Bethany wasn't around any longer, and Brianna wasn't comfortable divulging stuff like that to just anyone. Certainly not her mother, who would be horrified, and telling Carver would just be horribly awkward for both of them. And she didn't feel comfortable enough with any of her friends yet to start talking about something so personal. Maybe she could talk to Aveline about it one day, though. She wasn't entirely certain that Aveline would either approve or fully understand, but she'd at least been married before, and she told Aveline almost everything else.

At any rate, she told herself firmly, it was time to stop being so childish. She would have to see Mardin eventually, or everyone would realize she was avoiding him, and besides, he would likely be of great help tracking Feynriel down. She couldn't endanger the boy and everyone that might be around him just because seeing Mardin might be awkward. She would simply have to act like nothing had ever happened.

"We'll get Mardin and Varric, and Fenris if he's around," she told Carver as they trotted up the steps out of Lowtown, heading for the mansion.

"He should be, they were still training when I left to find you," Carver replied. "But are you sure you want to bring Fenris along to find a mage?"

Brianna grimaced. It might not be the wisest of ideas, but . . . "Probably not. Still, if something goes wrong, and it usually does, we'll need all the help we can get."

"I suppose so. What about that pirate, Isabela, then?"

"No, she's probably busy looking for that relic of hers," Brianna said quickly. She might have to put up with seeing Mardin, but that didn't mean she had to put up with seeing him and Isabela all over each other. "Besides, if we need somebody to pick locks or be stealthy, we have Varric."

"All right," Carver agreed with a shrug.

It didn't take them long to reach the mansion, and as Carver had predicted, Fenris and Mardin were in the middle of sparring in the vast entryway when they came in. They stopped the fight as soon as Carver barged his way in, Brianna following more slowly behind. The two sheathed their swords as she and Carver stopped a few feet away, and Brianna caught Mardin's gaze unintentionally when he looked up. The heat in his eyes speared right through her, nearly making her gasp as her body ached with a sudden longing to feel his against it once more, but he blinked and the heat was gone so quickly she began to wonder if she'd imagined it. How could he still do that to her with one look? And why would he look at her that way if he was with Isabela? Focus, she reminded herself sternly. Be professional!

She gave the two of them a quick explanation on what she needed their help with, proud of herself for how normal she sounded as she did so. They both agreed to help, Fenris more reluctantly, of course. She finished the explanation by handing the bracelet over to Mardin, who looked amused. "Like a hound on the hunt, am I?"

"I thought it would help," she muttered, flushing, even as Carver gave her a very distinct "I told you so" look.

"It will," Mardin reassured her, sniffing at the bracelet before tucking it away. "I can't guarantee how much, but if I do happen to come across a scent trail, I'll at least know whether it's his or not."

"Good," she answered, relieved that she'd been right, and she shot her own look at Carver, who rolled his eyes. "Let's go get Varric, and then we'll visit this Vincento and see if Feynriel went to him or not." Whether he was a kind Templar or not, she wasn't about to go visit Ser Thrask unless she had no other choice. It was too risky when she herself was a mage. She just hoped the boy had gone to his father, and that his father could point them in the right direction.

They left the mansion and found Varric in his rooms at the Hanged Man, as usual, going through a stack of papers on his table. He promptly agreed to abandon what he referred to as "appallingly boring Merchant's Guild work" and followed them out of the tavern. Luckily, there was no sign of Isabela around, so Brianna was spared the awkwardness of that confrontation, at least.

It didn't take them long to reach the crowded area of Lowtown's bazaar, filled with numerous wooden stalls overflowing with displays of weapons, armor, potions, clothing, and food, as well as the sounds of dozens of voices calling out over top of one another about the various deals at their booths. Brianna asked the first stall they came across where they could find Vincento, and the merchant pointed out another stall across the street and down a little ways, where a man with shoulder-length light brown hair was calling out to the passers-by in heavily accented tones.

Brianna promptly headed over to his stall, and before she could address Vincento herself, he swept her a low bow. "Greetings, my lady. You look like a woman who'd appreciate the finest rubies from Antiva gracing her lovely neck. I bring only the best northern merchandise to the Free Marches."

Seeing no point in stalling, Brianna replied, "Actually, I'm not interested in your wares so much as I am your son."

"My lady!" Vincento protested. "I am a bachelor. I have never met a woman of sufficient beauty and charm to tie Vincento down . . ." He laughed, shrugging before he continued on. "Let us not ruin the day with such weighty thoughts. Perhaps I could show you my silks . . ."

"He's lying," Mardin whispered to her before she could even ask. "The smell is faint, but Feynriel's been here at some point."

Hoping she was correctly guessing the reason why he was lying, Brianna cast a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching before she cupped her hands together in front of her, allowing a glowing ball of light to form there before immediately quenching it. "We're not Templars, serah. Feynriel has nothing to fear from us. We just want to help."

Vincento reeled back in surprise. "Maldicion! You're a mage!" He studied her for a moment, his expression gradually smoothing out into relief. "I suppose you'd be kind, then, to a boy who resists being taken in by Templars?"

"Oh, sure, like he's family," Carver said dryly from Brianna's right side, and she elbowed him in the ribs.

Apparently Vincento found Carver's remark reassuring, for he went on, "The boy's in over his head, so I sent him to the only man I know who doesn't despise mages. A former Templar named Samson."

Brianna frowned. "Why would a Templar help him run away?"

"His conscience plagues him, having served the Templars too long. He now helps mages on the run. He's usually somewhere near the entrance to Darktown," Vincento explained. He hesitated for a moment, before adding, "The boy needs all the help he can get."

"And he will get it, serah," Brianna promised him, before she turned to leave, gesturing the others to follow.

"I've heard of this Samson fellow," Varric said. "Rumour has it he'll do almost anything for a few silvers nowadays. Shouldn't be hard to find out where he sent the kid to."

They found Samson lurking in the streets not far from the entrance to Darktown, and as Varric had predicted, a few silvers eventually loosened the weaselly-looking ex-Templar's tongue. The man admitted to having sent Feynriel, as well as another female apostate, to a ship captain named Reiner who occasionally took on runaways, although according to rumour, he kidnapped the runaways just as often as he helped them. All Samson could tell them besides that, however, was that Reiner might be holding them at a warehouse somewhere on the Lowtown docks.

Brianna sighed as they took their leave of Samson. "Vincento wasn't kidding – Feynriel is in way over his head. Now he's probably going to end up sold to slavers or something."

"He should have gone to the Circle. That is where he belongs," Fenris said darkly.

"As it happens, I agree with you this time. He needs training to master his power before he gets himself killed." Brianna gave Fenris a significant look to warn him that this agreement was an exception, not the rule.

"There are a lot of warehouses down at the docks, Bree," Carver pointed out. "This isn't going to be easy."

"That's where Red comes in," Varric declared. "He'll track the kid down, right?"

Mardin shrugged. "I'll do my best. At least there shouldn't be as many people around the warehouses as there is in Lowtown. That might help in picking up a trail."

Fortunately, Mardin was eventually able to find a trail after they arrived at the warehouses near the docks, though it took over an hour of searching in steadily increasing darkness as night came on before he finally picked it up, leading them to one of the shabbier, more deserted-looking warehouses.

No sooner had they entered the building after Varric picked the lock than they were attacked by several armed men, as a man shouted down from the walkway above, "We can't let anyone see this – kill anyone who's not one of ours!"

They immediately launched into action as half a dozen men swarmed at them. Mardin, Fenris, and Carver raced forward to meet the oncoming attackers while Bianca's bolts launched at them in rapid-fire succession. Brianna fried the man up on the walkway who'd shouted with a lightning bolt, causing him to fall over the railing and crash to the ground below.

Brianna heard a scream from the rooms above at that moment, and noticing that the rest of the party was keeping their attackers busy, she raced for the stairs and the source of the noise. It didn't take long for her to trace the screams to a room up on the walkway, and as she entered through one doorway, she could hear a man shouting at the far end of the room, "Get ahold of her!"

Unable to see where the girl was in relation to the men, Brianna hurried forward through the stacks of barrels and crates in the long room, not wanting to risk an area spell that might hurt the girl as well, hearing her cry out as she went, "Please! Help me! Anyone . . ."

"I'm coming!" Brianna shouted, but at the same moment, a man's voice drowned her out, yelling, "Get the hands! I heard they can't do no spells without hands!"

"Don't!" Brianna screamed, as she felt the wrenching of the Veil immediately following that statement, but she was too late. She rounded the last group of barrels just in time to see the girl burst into flames, a rage abomination emerging in her place only seconds later, snarling, "You know nothing of magic!"

The man directly in front of the abomination screamed as a flaming hand erupted through his back, and Brianna threw a blizzard spell fuelled by grief and fury at the four men and the abomination in front of her. There was no need to worry about hitting the girl anymore. She followed that up with a blast of chain lightning and furiously directed arcane bolts, and it was only the calls of "Hawke! Bree!" and the soothing hand on her shoulder that finally calmed her fury.

She took a deep breath, letting her spells fizzle out as Carver and the others mopped up what was left of the fight, though the hand didn't leave her shoulder. She looked up to see Mardin there as he squeezed her shoulder gently. "You can't save everybody. But we might still be able to save Feynriel. Focus on that, okay?"

She nodded, taking another deep breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten carried away like that."

"It's okay, I understand," he told her quietly. "That could have been you."

"Or Bethany, before she -" She shook her head, cutting herself off and willing back the angry tears that were threatening to spill out. "She shouldn't have given into the demon, but they cornered her, and she was so afraid. She didn't see another way out – she didn't hear me calling . . ."

"You did the best you could." He let go of her shoulder, running his hand through his hair. "If I'd managed to find this warehouse sooner –"

"No," she interrupted him firmly, sudden conviction bursting through her, "if I'm not allowed to blame myself, neither are you. We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen to Feynriel."

By this point, the others had finished making sure that the abomination and the men surrounding it were defeated, and Varric came back over to her. "You all right, Hawke?" She nodded, determined that she would be, and after studying her for a moment, Varric continued, "Let's see if they've got anything in writing. They weren't planning to sell the girl here."

The five of them began digging through the room, and finally Carver found a paper in one of the chests that stated they'd sold a male mage to a man named Danzig in Darktown.

"Let's go find this Danzig before Feynriel ends up the same way," Brianna said, heading for the door. She was not going to witness two mages turning into abominations in the same day. She refused to let that happen.

It didn't take them long to get to Darktown, though night had completely fallen by the time they did. Between Fenris and Mardin and their very realistic threats, it became an easy manner to find out which corner of Darktown Danzig liked to hide out in, and they were soon descending the rickety wooden stairs to the makeshift camp where an oily-looking mage stood warming his hands at a firepit, wearing grey and white robes with a black hood. There were six other armed men scattered in the small, smelly area, but Brianna marched right up to the mage, as one of the men who'd told them where to find Danzig had mentioned him being a mage.

"We want to know where Feynriel is, the mage that you sold," she snapped at Danzig, planting her hands on her hips as the others stopped behind her.

Danzig leered at her, completely ignoring her words as he drawled, "Why, look here, boys. Volunteers! Clap 'em in irons, and let's see what the Tevinters will pay for them. Such a fine-looking bunch, all of them, too. Especially this pretty girl."

He'd reached out to touch her face, but she smacked his hand away in disgust. This Danzig absolutely deserved what was coming to him. "Fenris, I know how much you like slavers. He's all yours as long as you can make him talk."

Brianna looked over to Fenris on her right, noticing that he was almost smiling as his markings lit up, bathing the area in an eerie blue-white glow. "I can do that." Fenris plunged his glowing hand into Danzig's chest, making the mage gasp for breath and crumple to the ground in mere seconds. Fenris yanked his hand back out before Danzig hit the ground completely.

Brianna was surprised that no one came to the mage's defense, but perhaps the men were waiting for some signal she didn't know. In any case, Danzig got to his feet shakily within another few seconds, gasping out, "Andraste's great flaming ass! How did you do that? Never mind. I-I've stashed the boy in a cave. A smuggler hideout on the Wounded Coast. Tevinters will be by to finish the deal tomorrow morning. Now . . . c-can I go?"

"Please tell me we get to kill these guys," Mardin growled from her left.

Brianna nodded firmly. Letting slavers live was not an option for her, especially not after what she'd witnessed with that mage girl. "Yeah, we do."

Danzig's staff lit up at that moment, which was obviously the signal the other slavers had been waiting for. They drew their weapons and came rushing to Danzig's aid as Brianna blocked his fire blast with a shielding spell of her own. She shot a lightning spell at him as Fenris flashed up the stairs to their right, ripping through the archers that had appeared there, and an earth-shaking roar sounded from behind her, followed by terrified screams.

Danzig was a decently powerful mage, but he hadn't been taught by Malcolm Hawke, and it only took Brianna a few minutes to overwhelm him with her own magic and bring him down with a final lightning spell, leaving his fried body twitching on the ground. By the time she'd done so, the rest of the party had taken care of all the slavers, and Mardin had switched back from his bear form.

"So, I don't suppose you know exactly which smuggler's cave he meant, Varric?" Brianna asked hopefully as they gathered together in the center of the carnage.

Varric shook his head. "'Fraid not, Hawke. There's dozens of little caves on the Wounded Coast. Mind you, Red might be able to help a little."

"It could take a long time," Mardin warned. "The Wounded Coast is huge, and we don't even know where to start looking."

"Well, one of them might have a map," Carver pointed out. "Mardin's right that the Coast is huge, and they would probably need help to find it too."

"That's a good idea, Carver," Brianna agreed, looking at her brother in surprise, and he looked equally startled that she'd agreed with him. "Let's have a look and see what we can find. They probably have other useful things we can take, anyway."

In the end, they did find a map of the Wounded Coast with the cave marked on it, as well as a decent amount of coins, some potions, and several other small items that they could sell.

"We should go to the Wounded Coast immediately," Fenris said when they'd finished. "It will still take some time to find the cave, even with the aid of this map, and we need to arrive before the slavers do."

"You're right." Brianna looked at the others. "I know it's late, but –"

"We have to go," Mardin finished for her.

Carver nodded. "Merrill would be upset if we came back empty-handed."

"And we wouldn't want Daisy upset, would we, Junior?" Varric said slyly. When Carver glared at him, the dwarf raised his hands in defense. "I was agreeing with you! I don't like seeing Daisy unhappy."

"Thank you." Brianna nodded at them all gratefully. "Now let's go. We need to hurry; we don't want to be too late to help again."

They made their way out of Kirkwall and towards the Wounded Coast, Carver in the lead as he was the best at reading maps, having spent a good deal of time learning it from their father. Brianna had never had the patience for figuring the maps out, but Carver was rather good at it, and Brianna was happy enough to let him take point for once.

They were halfway to the Coast when Mardin dropped back next to her where she was dawdling at the back of the line, and she immediately tensed up. "We need to talk about it eventually," he said quietly.

He was right, they should talk about it eventually, so they could clear the air and go back to merely being companions, she told herself. She'd thought at first that she would rather not talk about it at all, but after the events of today, she'd decided she at least owed it to him to hear what he had to say about it. Things had been much less awkward between them than she'd expected, and she couldn't forget how soothing the touch of his hand on her shoulder had been when she'd been so furious and upset. She nodded at last. "We should, and we will. But not right now. This is more important, and besides, we should talk somewhere a little more private."

She waved her hand at the others ahead of them, Carver squinting at the map in the moonlight that had finally broken free of the clouds, Fenris and Varric debating the merits of wine versus ale. They didn't appear to be paying any attention to her or Mardin, but she didn't want to chance having a personal discussion so close to the others, anyway.

He nodded, looking down at her for a moment without saying anything. She wished she could read his expression, but it was frustratingly blank as he replied, "All right. Once we've rescued Feynriel, let me know when you're ready, and we'll find somewhere to talk."

"I will," she promised him, and before she could say anything else, he'd gone on ahead to join Carver, clapping her brother on the shoulder and saying something that made him laugh. She sighed, watching the play of muscles in his back and shoulders before she shook her head and ordered herself to focus. They still had Feynriel to find, and they had to get to him before he became an abomination. She would bring him safely back to Kirkwall and his mother, she vowed to herself, even if his mother could only see him at the Circle. She would straighten things out between her and Mardin when they got back, too. And if there was some tiny part of her that still hoped he'd say he made a mistake and beg her for forgiveness, well, a girl was allowed to dream, wasn't she?