Author's Note: I would like to thank once again to the amazing sarahannmarie123 for correcting this chapter for me and giving me great advice on choice and use of some words :) Please leave a review, things are getting intense and I would love to hear your feedback!

- Chapter 7: The Prison -

Velabanchel prison was not far away from AntivaCity. Located near the sea, its cliffs and constant stormy weather made it almost impossible for ships to dock near it – but of course The Siren's Call was no ordinary ship, and Isabela was no ordinary captain.

They had set sail earlier that evening, sailing slowly to avoid detection. Isabela had been very careful about the position of her ship, strategically choosing the best spots to sail through while always keeping hidden. They docked near a rocky shore a few hours later, the moon starting to rise high in the sky.

"Great, Rivaini," Varric grumbled, looking at the rocks and the rough sea. "How are we supposed to get out of this blasted ship in the middle of the night?!"

"We climb," said Alistair cheerfully. "The rocks have enough angles for us to put our hands and feet all the way up to that bridge." Alistair pointed up at a small wooden bridge that connected to a larger stone bridge. This last one led to an imposing blackened building – the prison – and the access to it was closed due to a huge, rusty, iron barred gate between them.

"Don't worry. Once we're done, my crew will take the ship somewhere easier to come aboard," Isabela announced.

Elissa stepped away from her companions to take a closer look at the bridge. She then came back. "The only problem is there is a guard watching over the gate, which I'm pretty sure is locked. He'll see us coming before any of us can put an arrow through his throat."

Isabela laughed. "Oh dear, you must think outside of the box." She walked up to the edge of her ship and looked down at the dark water below. Looking at the three adventurers behind her, she smiled. "You better get up there as soon as you can." Without any warning she jumped.

Alistair went to the edge of the ship. "Isabela, what are you doing?!"

"Just go! I'll take care of him!" she shouted while she started swimming away from their sight, possibly to place herself behind the guard so she could knock him out – at least that what's Alistair was hoping.

"Alright men, let's go," Elissa commanded, walking up to the other edge of the ship, the one that was really close to the rocky cliffs. She started climbing the stone wall nimbly, as she had done it a hundred times before.

Alistair let out a small laugh. He turned to Varric. "Well, you heard the commander!"

Isabela had almost reached her goal. She unsheathed one of her daggers and put its blade in her mouth. She forced herself out of the water and climbed the black, rough wall.

When she got up there, dripping all over, the guard was totally oblivious of her presence. She was facing his back. With one swift move, she cut the guard's throat and threw him at the angry sea. Maybe it will calm down now.

She had to wait a few more minutes before the three figures she was waiting for appeared in front of her.

"You're late," she teased.

"We had to wait for the little guy." Elissa laughed at her own sentence.

Varric was grumpy. "Well excuse me for my tiny arms and legs, Blaze."

Elissa looked confusingly at him. "Blaze?"

Varric's mood didn't change. "Yes. Your hair is red, like a bonfire. So your new nickname is Blaze."

"Seriously, Varric?"

"With love, the little guy." He smirked.

"We don't have time for this," Alistair interrupted. "Let's just go."

Isabela stopped Alistair with one hand on his chest. "Not so fast. We have a problem. That gate opens from the inside…"

Varric took Bianca off of his shoulder strap and pointed it upwards to the edge of the prison's wall. "That's not a problem." He shot a grapple with it, which lodged just in place to allow him to climb up the rope. "I'm not sure how much weight the rope will hold, but don't worry… I'll have the gate open by the time you're finished gawking." And he disappeared.

"Did he just call me fat?" Alistair muttered, but no one seemed to listen.

Isabela looked at Alistair and Elissa. "All right… No Varric, nothing to do but wait."

Alistair looked back at her. She was all wet, and he bet she was freezing with those scarce clothes of hers in the middle of the cold night. He took off his cloak and put it over her gently.

Isabela looked surprised at the sudden act of kindness, but something else caught her eye right away: the look on Elissa's face. She noticed Isabela staring, so she quickly looked away. Isabela decided not to make a fuss out of it, as they would talk about it and some other issues once they got back on the ship.

"You want to tell me what all the mystery is about?" Isabela turned to Alistair. "Who are we here for?"

He looked away, thinking carefully about his answer. "I… can't."

Isabela got angry at his response. She was there, with him, helping him, and she didn't know what for. He didn't trust her, and it was driving her mad. "Didn't you used to be fun? I thought this was about recapturing the old days for you – a drink, a sword, and a partner who doesn't give a damn about your bloodline?"

Elissa was oblivious at their conversation. She decided to search for clues about what Varric could be doing once she saw Alistair giving Isabela his cloak – not that she was jealous; she just didn't want to see anything more than she should. She heard movement and she unsheathed her dagger, getting in position.

"I'm not a very good king," Alistair said. Elissa hadn't heard their discussion, but those words caught up with her. Still standing her ground, she paid close attention to what those two babbling idiots were saying. For the love of Andraste, Varric's there making a huge racket and they're arguing about Alistair's ability to be king!

"You're a difficult man, Alistair," Isabella responded.

No news there. Elissa could see a tiny figure sliding near the gate, positioning his hands on a near lever.

"But only a good king would say that." Isabela's words didn't change Alistair's expression. He was still looking at the ground.

With one swift move of her arm, Elissa threw her dagger through one of the holes in the gate, which got lodged in the throat of a Crow who was getting too close to Varric.

"Could you please stop whining and start paying attention to what's happening?" Elissa shouted at Isabela and Alistair as Varric finally opened up the gate.

Varric looked back at the dead Crow and then back at Elissa, who had already crossed the gate along with Isabela and Alistair. "Thanks, Blaze." Elissa looked coldly at him. I guess she's not too fond of that nickname. "Anyway, the Crows are on the way!"

Elissa took out her dagger from the dead man's throat and wiped the blood on his clothes, smearing them. She sheathed her longsword just in time to look up at a huge Qunari with a mace in his hands.

"Pathetic creatures," he said as a dozen armored men appeared behind him.

Elissa's heart was pumping blood hastily. She analyzed the battlefield; there was enough space to move around and to dodge any incoming attacks, along with stairs and columns that could provide some additional advantage should she use them correctly, in right time. They were outnumbered, however; and they were there with one purpose – which only Alistair and herself knew of. It was too late to go back now.

"Do you know where you're going?" she asked Alistair in an angry tone. She didn't mean it though; the thrill of an impending battle was taking over her. He nodded – she had seen him study the scroll earlier that day. "Then go!"

Alistair took advantage of her words and ran to the left, disappearing behind a wooden door.

The Qunari followed Alistair with his eyes. "I will find him. Kill the others." He disappeared through the door behind him as his minions ran down the stairs, weapons in hand.

Varric exposed the hidden blade on Bianca, impaling the nearest Crow. Isabela used one dagger to stab a man at her left and the other to cut another's throat. They were fighting back to back, covering each other like they always had done.

Elissa was moving swiftly through the crowd with her longsword, severing heads occasionally and stabbing with her dagger, as if she was dancing in the rain. She then graciously climbed up the stairs and plunged off the steps, literally cutting a Crow in two and seriously injuring the other, who fought back and stabbed her arm with his dagger. She let out a cry of pain, falling to the ground, which allowed the Crow to get closer. Thinking quickly, she used her sword to cut his left foot off, knocking him to the ground; she got up and finished the job, burying her sword in his chest. Blood splattered all over, covering her face and armor.

Varric wasn't in close combat anymore, as himself and Isabela had killed the nearer Crows. He loaded Bianca with a fire arrow and shot at the Crow that was sneaking behind Elissa as she was retrieving her sword. The arrow went straight through his heart, killing him instantly and setting his corpse ablaze. Elissa smiled at him, thanking him without saying a word.

The battle only lasted a few more minutes, as the remaining Crows were feeling intimidated by the invaders' skills. They had to follow orders, however, so they gathered their courage and stepped forward for a final attack.

Isabela immediately killed two of them, who were careless enough to approach her from her sides. She just had to extend her arms with her daggers in hands, allowing the men to run their faces into her blades.

Elissa moved her weapons in a circle, gutting the remaining two Crows. They both went down, their hands over their stomachs, trying to keep their insides in.

The third level. The seventy-ninth cell. Alistair kept repeating those words to himself as if they were verses from the Chant of Light.

The dungeons he was in were poorly lit, and the moonlight was faint behind those stone walls. Alistair was trying to find his way through spider webs, hands that tried to grab him from barred windows on locked wooden doors, screams and—Maker, I don't even want to know what this putrid smell is.

He had his sword in hand, ready to battle. Torture devices could be found in every corner, some with fresh blood still on it. The noise from all the screaming was nerve-racking. Alistair didn't notice the Qunari until he was facing him on the top of the stairs.

"Like dogs before a storm," the huge grey giant said, his mace rested in both his hands and looking down at Alistair. "They howl when the winds of wrath blow. Which dog are you here to free?" With this last sentence, he positioned his mace above his head, ready to smash Alistair.

Alistair jumped back and stumbled down the stairs falling on the ground floor, and the giant followed him. Quickly getting up, he slashed the Qunari's right leg, leaving a wound on it. He was quicker than Alistair though; the Qunari gained balance and hit his right arm, knocking his sword off his hand. Just as the giant was getting ready for a third blow, Alistair crawled and picked up his weapon with his left hand, hitting the Qunari's left leg, knocking him down without any leg strength because of his injuries. Seizing the opportunity, the king of Ferelden held his sword high above his hands and swung it, letting it rest right in the middle of the Crow's head, slicing it in two.

He hadn't heard anything in the heat of the battle; now the screams that had always been there were driving him deaf. He searched through the giant's huge dead body and found just what he was looking for – keys.

He kept on walking, searching for his goal. A lonely door at the end of the hallway told him he was on the right path. He walked up to it, his heart racing – he had never been so anxious in his life. Not sure of what or who he would find in there, he tried a key. It didn't fit. He tried the second, the third, the fourth. There were only two more keys left. It has to be one of them. That, or I'll just break this door down. He tried the fifth. A clicking sound was heard, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Alistair took off the padlock and let it fall to the ground. He slowly opened the door.

In a tiny cell with one barred window was an old man wrapped in rags. The smell was awful, the walls were covered in filth and the man was very skinny. Sadness and pain shot through his eyes as he looked up to the man in fine, bloodied clothes that stood before him.

"King Maric…?" Alistair dared to ask. The name of my father.

"Too late," the old man answered. "Much too late."

Elissa ripped off a chunk of fabric from the nearest Crow's tunic. Her arm was bleeding, but the cut she had suffered wasn't very deep, so she wrapped the piece of cloth around it and tied a knot.

The atrium was filled with corpses. The smell of metal from all the blood shedding clogged Elissa's nose; it had been a while since she last smelled it in the air. She looked around. The only sound she could hear was Varric panting and Isabela cleaning up her blades.

"No signs of Alistair yet," Isabela informed once she saw Elissa looking all over, searching for the missing companion.

"We can't stay here any longer," she replied. "There may be more Crows coming this way after all this racket."

"What do you suggest, Blaze? That we leave without him?" Varric put Bianca on his back again and tried to get closer to Elissa through the sea of dead bodies.

Elissa took some time to think about their next move. Alistair was the sole reason they were there – well, not Alistair himself, but the person he was searching for. They couldn't leave without him. I can't leave without him. But they couldn't wait for him too long. So she decided to do the only thing she could do. "You guys get back to the ship."

"We guys?" Isabela asked. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"I'm going in. I need to find him."

"Are you crazy?" Varric was very close to yelling. "You don't even know where he is or what happened in there!"

A trumpet sounded somewhere in the prison.

"Now the whole place knows we're here," stated Isabela with her hands on her hips. "What are your orders, Commander?" She knew Elissa was the one who led the troops in the final battle of the Blight in Denerim. If the king was nowhere to be found, they had to make a decision, and no one knew what to do in situations of high pressure better than the Warden.

"Go," she said blankly. Her face showed no fear, only bravery and anger. "We either get back to the ship in less than ten minutes or you set sail. Am I clear?"

Varric didn't agree with her. This woman is crazy. If everything goes wrong we will lose not only the king, but also the Hero of Ferelden! The country will be left in turmoil! "No, you were not clear! What if he's been captured?! Worse, what if he's –"

Elissa gave two steps forward to face the dwarf. She was angry, and his words made it even worse. She kneeled to face him in the eye and hissed, "He. Is not. Dead." She got up, still looking at Varric, her eyes piercing him. She was beyond herself in all her anger and hurt, as she once again had that feeling she had had a lot of times eight years ago: the fear that she could lose even more people.

She looked at Isabela, who nodded. "Varric, let's go."

Elissa turned around to go into the prison. Varric was still ranting when a tall figure came out of an open door, holding another, smaller, limping one on his left side. Once they both got out, the faded moonlight shone on them, revealing Alistair with an open wound on his right upper arm and an older man.

"Alistair!" Elissa ran to him. Once she got near enough, she took a look at his arm. "You need to get that fixed once we board the ship." She looked at the old, debilitated man. He was almost falling, as Alistair couldn't hold him with his right side. Without another word, Elissa got on the strange man's left side and supported him while they led him out of that place as fast as they could.

Alistair's face was dead serious and he was determined not to show any pain. The man fainted from weakness and they both had to carry him.

"Is that—"

"He's not," Alistair quickly answered. Elissa didn't say a word.

Isabela and Varric led the way to the ship without asking any questions. The look on Alistair's face told them he didn't get what he came for, but that old unknown man could enlighten them.

Alistair was looking at the ocean. The ship was travelling fast to escape any Crow ship that might have been pursuing them, and the first rays of light were starting to illuminate the sky. Elissa had ripped off his shirt's sleeve and covered his deep wound with a piece of cloth that she found on the ship just to prevent more bloodshed; she then ran off to the dining room to take care of the unconscious old man. The sea breeze struck Alistair gently, as they were in calmer waters now.

He got lost in his thoughts for several minutes. He was worried, anxious and saddened all at the same time. A few moments later, a sweet voice woke him up from his reminiscence. "How are you feeling?"

He turned his head to his left to find Elissa with a worried look. "About my arm or my epic failure?"

She smiled faintly. "Your arm first. I don't want you to bleed to death. Let me see that."

He turned around and showed her his well-toned arm. She proceeded to take off the makeshift bandage and looked at the deep red wound that was still bleeding. Elissa went back inside and came out with a small, rounded glass vial with a red liquid in it.

Alistair smiled. "A health potion, in the middle of the ocean?"

"A girl can never be unprepared. Drink it."

She handed him the potion. He grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"Just drink it, Alistair."

"I need to know." He looked sincere. He couldn't be around her knowing she was only there because she had no way to turn back.

Elissa sighed. "Alistair, I won't lie to you; what you said hurt me. A lot." She paused, looking at the vast blue sea. "But I found myself worried about you, and willing to go in there without knowing what I would find, or if I would find you, for that matter."

Alistair was hanging on every word. She looked straight into his eyes and put her other hand on top of his.

"I've forgiven you before, Alistair, and you weren't even near me. Now that we both must spend a little more time together… Do I have another choice?"

"So you're not mad anymore because you can't be, or because you don't want to be?"

Elissa smiled and looked down. "I'm not mad at you anymore. I care too much about you to let those pesky feelings get a hold of me right now."

Alistair smiled at her sentence. Everything was getting back on track, despite his stupidity and her pride.

"Now stop looking at me with puppy dog eyes and just drink the potion. You need to get your arm fixed!" Elissa forced the vial in his hand.

Alistair took it to his lips and drank it in one gulp. His wound started to slowly heal, with new tissue magically appearing. As they both stared at it, a scar — small compared to what that wound had been — appeared.

"Once again, I've saved your sorry ass," Elissa said, crossing her arms and smiling victoriously.

He grabbed her shoulder gently, still smiling. "Now do you see why I wanted you to come with me?"

His eyes told Elissa he was speaking the truth – there was no one else in all of Thedas he could trust more than his fellow Grey Warden. He took off his hand when he heard footsteps beside them.

"Your guest is gorging himself in the galley," Varric told him with a smile. Isabela was standing behind him with her arms crossed and smiling too.

"So that means he's awake, I suppose?" Elissa asked, not really expecting an answer.

Varric rolled his eyes and looked back at Alistair. "I'm going to ignore Blaze here and just ask you what everyone's been wondering: he's not the man you were hoping for, is he?"

All eyes were set on Alistair. Even though Elissa knew the old man wasn't King Maric, the two other companions didn't even know who Alistair was looking for.

Alistair sighed. It was time to tell them the truth. "I was looking for King Maric."

"Your father?" Isabela never saw that one coming.

Alistair continued, "Maric disappeared thirteen years ago at sea. There was no trace of him, nothing to find – until Prince Claudio sent me evidence he'd been captured by the Crows."

"So who is the old man, anyway?" Elissa looked calm, but anxious. She didn't know who that man was and how he was important in all of this.

"I don't know, but he recognized me as Maric's son. And I need answers." He turned around to go down the stairs that led to the small rooms. "I'll have them soon enough. Right now I think we all need a rest."

Elissa followed him, eager for more. He opened the door to his room and let her walk in without saying a word. He knew how curious she was, and he would be surprised if she didn't follow him. He closed the door and looked at her. Both of them still had dried blood all over themselves, and Elissa's braid was a complete mess. He laughed as he remembered how many times they had spent days like that. Elissa quickly picked up on what was happening and she laughed as well. Isabela and Varric had already had a bath, as they weren't tending people.

"We should get ourselves cleaned up before we mess everything up, shouldn't we?" she asked, dreaming of a hot bath.

"I don't think I can mess things up even more than what I already have," Alistair muttered, looking at the ground.

"Come again?" Elissa didn't hear what he had said, but it seemed he was digressing to some other situation.

Alistair got back to reality. "Oh, I— Well, yes, we should get ourselves a bath." Elissa stared at him. "Uh, one at a time, I mean."

She looked at him astonished – that is, until she burst out laughing. Alistair smiled, noticing how stupid he must have sounded – Of course she would never even think otherwise!

Elissa wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. "Oh Alistair, you will never change, will you?" She left the room to look for Isabela, leaving Alistair alone.

"I wish I hadn't," he said in a low voice with a hint of sadness.