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 various OCs. Nothing else.
Queen's Quornor: I know it's been awhile since I've updated this. But it's because I finally moved out of my folks' house, and the notebook in which I had this chapter written got temporarily lost in the shuffle. But I finally found it, hiding with the PS3, and so can update at long last!
The Informant
"Are you sure Mother's coming back?" Rai'eena fixed her father with a harsh green stare, her hands clamped on her meager hips. "She never said she was going anywhere."
"She'll be back, I promise." Fenris lifted Malcolm over a patch of brambles.
"You don't lie very well," his scarlet-headed daughter observed. "Where is she? Why are you taking us to the Dalish?"
"Let it be, sister. If Father says Mother will come back, then she will," Leda sensibly told her. The white-haired girl walked beside Anders, discussing magic with the older apostate.
Rai'eena shot a nasty glance at her twin, but kept silent. Fenris was grateful, as she had not stopped questioning him about Phaedra's absence and Anders' sudden arrival since he had explained that they would be staying with the elves for a time. He was tired of answering her inquiries, particularly since his nerves were already strung tight with the hated abomination so near. Phaedra had always managed to keep them from sniping at each other by distracting them; without her, there was nothing to prevent him from losing his temper if Anders pushed him. The only reason he hadn't assaulted him yet, verbally or physically, was the fact that he needed the apostate's help.
Anders, for his part, had not spoken to Fenris any more than necessary. He had passed approval about his family, and joked with the children about his ill-fitting robe and bare feet, but on the whole he had spent his time chatting with Leda. That truly wasn't such a bad thing, because she was a mage just beginning to come into her powers. Phaedra trained her daily with the same exercises her father had taught her, and Leda took great pride in showing the ball trick to "Uncle Anders". She had conjured a ball of cool green fire and was tossing it back and forth with him, delighting in each new color when he sent it back.
The other two weren't quite as fond of him. Rai'eena was a little jealous of the attention her twin was paying him, and Malcolm didn't seem to know what to think. He merely watched him with his fathomless green eyes, his thumb nestled between his lips.
Fenris finally picked his son up after the boy nearly walked into a tree.
The Dalish camp was not too far from their home. A half-hour's walk through the forest saw them at the outskirts of the camp, and a few hunters nodded their greetings when they caught sight of the family. A few of them slowed as they went about their business, staring at Anders, but the mage only offered a friendly smile in reply. Fenarel, the appointed leader until the new Keeper arrived, rose from the bench outside his aravel as they approached.
"Aneth era, Fenris. What business do you have with us?"
"I would ask that the clan safeguard my children for a time," he replied cordially.
"Father wants us to stay with you until Mother comes back," Rai'eena added, crossing her arms with a sour expression.
Fenarel gave her a surprised look. "Your mother is gone?"
"So we're told. Father won't tell us where she went."
The Dalish presented them with a blank expression. Fenris stilled, realizing that the other elf knew something. "Your children can stay. It is the least we can do in return for all the healer Hawke has done for us." To the children, he said "the hahren is telling stories by the fire. Why don't you go join him?"
Rai'eena started to say something but Leda clapped a hand over her mouth. "Thank you, Fenarel. I won't let my siblings be a bother." She nudged her sister forward, and the scarlet-haired girl would have taken a swing at her twin but for the look Fenris gave her. Satisfied that Rai'eena was sufficiently cowed, Leda took Malcolm's hand and led the way to the fire, where the clan's offspring had gathered around the aging Paivel.
Once the children were gone, Fenris turned his attention back to Fenarel. "You know of this," he accused.
"I only know a bit. You and your friend are not the first to come here seeking a woman." Fenarel faced down the other man with dignity, his green eyes daring Fenris to say anything slanderous.
"Other women have gone missing?" Anders cut in, breaking some of the tension.
Fenarel relaxed somewhat. "It started when some elves from another clan arrived at our camp six weeks ago. They were searching for the daughter of their Keeper, who has been missing nearly two years. They finally tracked her here, to the Brecillian Forest, and every day they attempt to forge deeper into the woods."
"The forest muddles them, I assume?" Anders asked.
"Indeed. The trail leads deeper into the wood than they can venture unaided." The Dalish leaned against his aravel, offering the bench to his visitors. As they seated themselves on opposite sides of the plank, he continued. "Four weeks ago, a pair of Antivans arrived. They claim to be searching for their sister, but I doubt she is related to them." He shook his head. "There was an Orlesian knight about the same time, but he ventured into the forest alone and never returned. Following that the hunt was joined by a number of templars from Starkhaven, apparently looking for the twin daughters of some noble, one of them a mage. Just two days past, King Alistair came with three guards. Apparently they are searching for his queen."
Anders stared at him, his jaw hanging loose. "Tamera is missing? And she was tracked here?"
Fenarel nodded. "We suspect the kidnapper or kidnappers are based somewhere near the heart of the forest. None of our hunters ever travel that far, as dark things lurk beneath the trees. We were camped on the other side of the woods when our clan-mate Tamlen disappeared into the mirror that was Merrill's downfall. There are many ruins within the shadows, and we Dalish dare not go near." His expression turned bitter. "We have already lost too much to this forest's secrets."
Fenris shifted uneasily. It had been almost ten years, and Marethari's passing still affected the clan deeply. "Where are the other searchers? If someone has managed to capture so many women, we should pool our resources." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anders nod approvingly and forced down the ensuring flash of irritation.
"They have been exploring the depths. King Alistair brought a limb from the Grand Oak, apparently a memento from his first journey here during the Blight. He claimed it allows him to enter the forest without hindrance. His group has joined with the Antivans and our kin." Fenarel nodded to the south. "They left a short time ago. If you hurry, you can catch them."
"I am grateful. With luck, my wife will return shortly." The men got to their feet and Anders started away. Fenris frowned at his back. "Where are you going?"
"To find a trader. I realize you disagree, but I'm not comfortable with tramping around in a forest bare-footed."
"Master Ilen is right over there." Fenarel pointed to another ararvel across the clearing, where the aging craftsman could be seen berating one of his apprentices.
Anders nodded his thanks. "I doubt he'll have any clothes for me, but might as well check. I feel like a bloody idiot in this thing," he grumbled to himself.
"You'll need some sovreigns," Fenris called. He tossed a coin purse Anders' way, which the surprised mage barely managed to catch. The warrior did not offer an explanation for the kindness, because it was not prompted by anything less than practicality. He refused to let that abomination use the staff meant for his daughter, which meant Anders was currently devoid of a weapon as well as boots. The sovreigns were to equip an ally for battle, no more and no less.
The Dalish glanced at his counterpart as Anders made his way to Ilen's landshare. "What is he doing here? I thought you despised him."
"I do," Fenris seethed. "But I need his help in case magic is involved, which I suspect to be the case."
"That seems to be a common thread amongst the abductions, from what I've been told." Fenarel folded his arms and pursed his lips, looking into the grass. "I have heard much of the individual kidnappings. The king and our kin in particular were free with their stories; it seems they were the most desperate to recover their women."
"What have you heard?"
"There was always blood involved. Each of the women's living spaces, with the exception of one, bore a single crimson handprint of a size too large for the average female. In some cases, such as the queen and the sisters, there was some scattered blood on the floor outside their rooms."
So a blood mage was involved. Fenris had not been entirely certain, not wanting to jump to the worst possible conclusion. But hearing that blood was found at each scene confirmed his original suspicion. He hid his frown and listened as the Dalish continued.
"There is another common thread. Nobody seems to have realized what happened until the morning afterwards. Most of the women came from wealthy backgrounds or held positions that ensured their personal protection throughout the day. The only one which does not seem to fit the mold is the Orlesian's charge, and even her abduction should have been noticed long before it was. I was led to believe that she was of personal significance to the Empress, and spent much of her time near at hand. When did you realize your wife was missing?" he asked, looking to his white-haired companion.
Fenris returned his steady gaze. "This morning. I never heard anything during the night, when the attack appears to have taken place. Phaedra put up a serious fight before she was taken."
Fenarel nodded, as though unsurprised. "That falls in line as well. It seems that most of the women were taken without incident, but in at least three other cases they fought back. The king said his room was torn to shreds and his wife's sword-blade was crusted with blood. The sisters both gave their abductor a difficult time, although it was for naught. Now you tell me your wife fought against her taker. Perhaps mages can sense when another mage is present?"
Fenris shrugged. "I imagine the Ferelden queen is not an apostate, so your theory has a hole."
"Just a speculation. Queen Tamera was a Grey Warden, once. Perhaps she has a similar nose for trouble." The Dalish scratched at his hair and refolded his arms. "It seems to me that this person or persons has very exclusive tastes when it comes to targets."
"At least two of his acquisitions are extraordinary women," Fenris ruminated. "But what was so special about the others?"
"About the four remaining shemlen women, I have no idea. But in the case of Kaelia, the Keeper's daughter, I may have an answer." Fenarel looked to his peer, unease in his deep green eyes. "She is counted as the greatest singer among our people. At every clan gathering, her father calls upon her to lead us in song, praising the Creators and asking for their protection until the next gathering. I once heard some of the hahren describing her voice as 'fit for a goddess, a peerless voice which in its beauty surely carries to our gods in their prison'."
The Dalish's fingers tightened upon his arm and his jaw tensed. "To my knowledge, no shemlen has ever heard Kaelia sing. So my conclusion is that someone from her clan stole her away, because there was no blood found near her aravel. But deeper in the forest where they sheltered at the time, there was a bloody handprint found near a disturbance of leaf-litter before the trail continued onward."
"So you think that she may have been taken from another?" the white-haired elf queried.
"She was not the only one missing from her clan. There was a hunter named Nuyar also in absence, and it sounded to me as if she and this hunter were involved in a clandestine relationship at the time of her disappearance. Her clan-mates told me their Keeper did not approve of the match, and so they kept their romance a secret. Nuyar has not reappeared and no body has been uncovered, to their knowledge."
"Then if they were sneaking away for a romantic encounter, and this abductor came across them..."
"You see what I am getting at," Fenarel finished with a slow nod. "My guess is that the responsible party is a shem, else he would not be able to move through shemlen territory without suspicion."
Fenris mulled over this new information. What he had seen outside his home had seemed like human work. Elven mages were not so destructive as their human counterparts, it had always seemed to him. Fenarel made a good case for a human blood mage, which was a burden removed from his shoulders. The warrior had feared that his search might end in another Keeper, or at least a First, dying at his hands.
His thoughts were interrupted by a polite cough. Fenris looked up to see Anders standing before him, still resplendent in his ridiculous robes but now carrying a corded ironwood staff of Dalish make. Beneath the drooping folds of fabric, fine elven boots covered his previously bare feet. "Master Ilen didn't have anything for a man of my size," he explained with a sheepish grin. "Looks like I'm stuck with these robes for the time being."
"Good. Perhaps our quarry will be so busy laughing at you he will not see me coming to take his head." Fenris pushed himself upright and looked at his counterpart. "Which way did the hunters go?"
"They left this morning, by the southern path." Fenarel favored them with a respectful nod. "I pray you find them with all haste, and that your wife is returned to you without any harm. She has become a favorite of the clan, and we would not see her injured."
"Join the club," Anders muttered. "I think every man she meets falls head over heels for her."
Fenris noticed the way Fenarel's cheeks pinked at the mage's comment, but pretended not to see. He had known for some time that the Dalish hunter harbored a secret love for his wife, and that his honor prevented him from acting on that affection. That was part of why the clan held no grudge against Phaedra for Marethari's death; Fenarel had argued for her innocence after they came south and encountered the former Champion once more. Her saving the lives of his clan-mates after an illness struck seven years ago had only increased his admiration for her. Fenris saw no reason to confront the other elf about it.
If Anders had seen the hunter's reaction, he possessed the grace to ignore it. Instead he swept his arm towards the south, and presumably the searchers in that direction. "Shall we?"
Fenris bit the inside of his cheek and gave a short nod. "Let's go."