Summary: When Phaedra is taken by a blood mage, Fenris and Anders put aside their hatred to rescue her. But wait! What does the Queen of Ferelden, an Antivan courtesan, a Dalish songstress, and the Maker's Bride have to do with all this? Sequel to "Loss."

Disclaimer: I own Phaedra and the kids. Plus the names of the various OCs. Nothing else.

Queen's Quornor: Now we find out what's happening on Phaedra's end, and meet Tamera! This chapter was a little troublesome, because I couldn't differentiate the women based on their appearance and accents are pretty difficult to convey through a common dialect. Small bit of trivia: I chose all of the women's names based on some physical or mental quality about them, with the exception of Tamera and Kaelia. I also chose the sisters' last name from my family history, since I am descended from Clan Nesbit. Yes, I take pride in my heritage. Who wouldn't?

The Meeting

Her eyelids felt heavy, as though gummed together. She felt shackles around her wrists and ankles, and the heavy drag of chains when she moved her limbs. In the distance, she heard the steady drip of water splashing against stone. She tried to touch her magic but it was so weak, as if she had been drained of her power. If she concentrated, she could sense her mana slowly seeping away. A steady, barely audible hum buzzed in her ears. She had been emptied of magic before, in Kirkwall, but no templar could continue erasing mana for so long.

Phaedra's last memory was of battle, fighting to keep her family safe from a legion of shades and their fell master. Obviously she had lost. But how had she gotten here? What of Fenris and the children? Were they somewhere nearby? Her heart raced at the thought of them languishing in chains.

She cracked her eyelids, unsurprised to find herself in darkness. The only light came from a small, barred window in the door.

The bound mage debated whether it was best to keep silent or call out. At last, she screwed her courage and chanced a cry. "Is anyone there? Hello?"

"Who is speaking?" came a reply. It was a woman's voice, throaty but clear. To Phaedra's ear, she sounded Ferelden, possibly nobility. There was a finesse in the pronounciation that did not seem present in any peasant's speech.

"I am Hawke, once Champion of Kirkwall. Who am I speaking with?"

"Tamera Theirin, Queen and Hero of Ferelden. It is a pleasure to meet you, Champion Hawke."

"Likewise." Phaedra's head spun. She already knew her abductor to be powerful, but to kidnap a woman so guarded as Queen Tamera? Who could possibly be wanted of them?

"I'm here too!" A purely melodic voice echoed to them, a sweet sound with a pleasing accent. "I'm Kaelia, daughter of Keeper Ylondrian."

"I am Lady Belladonnia Juanita Torre, from Antiva." The voice of a practiced courtesan, Phaedra thought. The woman's voice dripped with sex appeal.

"My name is Giselle de Caslain, and I serve the Empress as her Lady of the Bedchamber." This woman sounded young, but purely Orlesian. There was a notable lack of spine in her tone.

Two more young women answered the call, naming themselves Sheena and Sorcha Nesbit. Their voices purred with a pleasant broque, which Phaedra knew was unique to the city of Starkhaven. She had once helped a displaced prince from that environ with a little vendetta, although their dealings had been brief. As for the family name, she knew the Nesbits to be an influential group of nobles with ties to Kirkwall's blacksmiths. "We are sisters, and I was from Starkhaven's Circle before it rebelled against the templars," Sorcha added.

"What are we doing here?" Phaedra asked, scrunching her way closer to the door. More importantly, how had their captor gotten them all? None of her fellow captives sounded like mundane peasants, but rather women whose presence would be quickly noted. Alone, any of them would make worthwhile hostages and certainly good sacrifices.

"We do not know, messere." The reply came from the Orlesian.

"We were all taken by a man wielding foul magic. I thought it was because I refused to sleep with him, until I was brought here and met dear Kaelia," Belladonnia's voice clarified.

"Our captor has been gathering us all for months." The queen sounded calm, full of quiet confidence. Phaedra could easily see how she had kept control in the Battle of Denerim, and still managed to win the loyalty of foreign dignitaries. She was a born leader. "We only have contact when he comes to feed us. For the most part, we have been left to our own devices."

"Can you use your magic, Hawke?" someone called. Sheena, perhaps.

"No I can't."

"I thought so. He keeps Sorcha drained at all times."

"So he's never touched any of you? Not once?" Phaedra asked. Why else would a mage keep so many young women locked in cells, feeding them, if not for his own pleasure?

Chains clanked beyond the door, echoing as though someone had beat them against the floor. Most likely there was a stone hallway outside the barrier, and each of the women were kept in individual cells. "He doesn't seem interested in us sexually," Tamera told her. "Apart from the initial capture, he never touches us."

"I offered to sleep with him in exchange for my freedom. He refused me, saying that such an act would taint the bride." Belladonnia sniffed. "I have no idea what he meant. There are no brides to be found here."

"He is no ordinary blood mage," Giselle added. "This man, whatever he is doing, has not even drawn our blood."

"He doesn't even mind us talking like this," Kaelia piped up. "He told me it was a small mercy, one he was willing to give."

Phaedra rested her head against the door, trying to guess what this could mean. A blood mage, who had kidnapped two of the most powerful and famous women in Thedas in addition to a courtesan, a Dalish, a courtier, and two girls, one a former Circle mage. He let them speak freely and neither touched them nor despoiled them. This did not sound like any maleficar she had ever heard of. Yet she knew their captor was a blood mage; she had fought the shades, and watched their hooded master conjure an ominous crimson mist from his wrist. But why keep his captives alive? Why not use them to augment his power, as any blood mage was wont to do? Why show even one iota of kindness to them?

What was he planning?

She thought again of Fenris and the children, and prayed that they were safe and free.