A/N: Apologies for the extremely long wait between updates. I have finally conquered all of the evil papers for class this semester and can now apply my writing skills to more worthy endeavors. Mainly the search for lots of hot Cullen and bad ass Amell.
I'd like to thank everyone for the kind reviews as well. They gave me incentive to finish up school work in order to start writing this again. Your words mean the world to me!
Cullen will return. Shortly. I promise and swear. Solona is almost home. Almost.
Chapter Fourteen
It does not take the family long to decide they have to get out of Lothering. Solona remains silent as the matter is discussed over the breakfast table the next morning. Having just arrived, she thinks another good night's sleep in a safe house is in order, but Marian is insistent, and persuasive, when she brings up the impending threat. They had been attacked by Darkspawn not two days earlier. The templars will not be able to save this town.
So, they will leave. They will pack a few items; Solona trails Marian around the house as the rogue collects important personal belongings. As the larder is raided for the best food to bring, Marian begs Solona to join them. And she is so tempted. The Hawke's are an adventure waiting to happen. An interesting set of circumstances that will probably take her on a grand tour of Thedas. Oh, the things she could learn.
But, she says regretfully, she has to figure out what's happening with her magic. She's still useless; hasn't felt anything since healing Marian on the battle field. She needs the Circle, needs their information.
It looks like a hard pill for the Hawke's to swallow, especially Bethany, that a mage would willingly return to that prison. The family cannot convince her against her path however. As she stands on their porch, feeling frightened and alone again, Marian presses a necklace into her hands. The metal is cool to the touch and twisted, almost an entire circle. "My father used to wear this when he felt threatened. He was a mage too, said it brought him comfort. Please, take it with you and please, be safe."
Solona doesn't know what to say. This is the first real present she's ever been given outside of the Tower. She puts the necklace on and the sense of calm that comes over her is indeed comforting. "I wish I had something to give you too, Marian. But I don't, so I will just say thank you for helping me."
The two embrace, tightly. An escape from certain doom and a week on the road has created in them close friends. Another first since Marian is no mage. More words are whispered between the two of them. Safe journey. Let me know where you end up. Don't forget to live. They're both smiling and still hugging when Leandra, Carver, and Bethany join them on the porch.
"If we're leaving, let's go." Even Carver's negativity makes Solona smile wider with the familiarity of this family. Quick hugs and thanks are exchanged with the other women and Solona turns to go.
From the river, on the bridge, a voice rings out crying, "That's her! That's the apostate!" The word sends a shiver through the family and they look to find one of the gossiping men from Fughett leading a group of templars to the five of them. The man's hand is raised, finger pointed, as he calls out Bethany. He must have remembered the youngest mage of the family.
Without thinking, Solona looks back once more at the family, saying, "Go! I'll stop them. Be safe, Hawkes." She doesn't wait to see if the family listens, just pushes forward to the man and the templars. Her hand pulls her staff free and she holds it at her side with determination. She must look as intimidating as possible; must make herself the biggest threat. Sans magic she fears she just looks ridiculous is ill-fitting robes, holding a gnarled tree limb.
The effect is instant when she straightens her arm, bringing the staff in front of her. The templars, six in all, fan out with their swords drawn. The leader is a woman and the woman is yelling orders to her men. When Solona moves within range the stern voice tells her to drop her staff and put her hands up.
Solona desperately wants to check to see if the family has fled but she will not give the templars a reason to go looking for them if they have. She takes her time lowering her staff. By now the templars are on three sides and quickly moving to block the fourth. Strangely she is not intimidated. They cannot kill her; she has done nothing wrong and she is no apostate.
The possible intent is there in their eyes though. She thinks that they don't know she's innocent; they've only been told that she is guilty. The thought chills her. The wood staff clatters to the ground as she releases it.
Vaguely, surrounded by the shining metal, she notes that the gossiping man has abandoned the group and is still running around, yelling about apostates. The templars have caught their pray, however, and pay him no further mind.
"To the ground, Apostate!" She kneels, carefully and mindfully of her still healing wounds on her knees. She holds her arms out as well, no longer concerned with distraction. She's thinking now of survival. To die, here, after escaping the horrors of Ostagar . . . the irony is laughable and so she does. One of the templars shoots forward and has her hands bound before she even makes it fully to the ground. They bind her; of course they bind her. The rope they use is rough and she can't help crying out when it's pulled tight.
"My name is Solona. I'm from the Circle. I was at Ostagar when it fell; I just recently made it back to civilization." She tries not to sound so desperate, but she can't help it. Not when the man holding her tips the hands tied behind her back up just enough to tip her forward in pain.
The mage tries to keep her eyes focused on the leader as much as possible. She needs to appraise her possible adversary. The woman templar is looking at her critically as well. Solona imagines that she must seem a mess. There's still a wide splash of Darkspawn blood at her right hip and her face is crossed with scratches from twigs. The templar glances past her, just once. "Bring her with us."
Hauled to her feet and shoved back towards the Chantry, Solona feels like a criminal but is still smiling because the Hawkes have escaped, she hopes, and she has just snagged herself an escort back to the Tower.
-!-
One her first day with the templars, she finds out the leader's name. She is Rylock and she is always angry, all the time. She wakes up Solona with a nudge to her ribs with a boot and when her eyes crack open, Rylock looms above her, scowling. When she's brought food, sitting in the Chantry with all the refugees and listening to the reassuring words of the chant, Rylock growls out that the group will be leaving as soon as they're finished. Where they're going Solona doesn't know. She knows the group hunts an escaped mage from the Circle that's been out in the world for almost a year now. The templars talk about that much as they pack.
They can hear screams coming from behind them, when they've just left Lothering behind. The men shift, uneasily, around her as Rylock calls them on. The heavy footsteps pick up and Solona is pulled along in the wake.
On her second day she thinks they might be headed straight back to the Circle. She knows they're on the road to Redcliffe, which leads to the road to the Circle. She might be home in just a few days. Home. And Cullen. Three of the templars notice her smile and point it out to Rylock. Rylock thinks she's plotting an escape. Why else would the woman templar thrust an open palm into her chest? The hit knocks her to the ground; Rylock's dispel brushes through her.
Solona can feel the dispel, feel it sweep into her very heart, and it takes nothing with it. Solona has nothing left to lose on the mana front. She pushes her upper body up onto her elbows and gives the templar a frustrated look. "No need for hands on, ser."
For a moment Rylock seems struck silent before she hauls Solona back to her feet. Solona has got to stop falling down around templars. She spends more time being yanked around by the lot than she does standing on her own two feet. "Why do you not recoil from your loss of energy, mage?"
She shrugs at Rylock's questioning and tips her head to the side. "I have none left to lose. Probably because I'm still recovering from Ostagar. You know that place where many people died to Darkspawn." She feels sassy today. It feels good. The thought of Cullen, just the thought of him, makes her feet lighter and bolder.
"I heard Ostagar was . . . terrible."
The templar softens around the eyes and it's the first time Solona has seen the woman do anything but seethe. She nods her acknowledgement before she takes a few steps down the road. "We should keep going. We can't be too far from the Circle, right?" She hopes her voice doesn't sound two hopeful.
"We're headed elsewhere . . . Redcliffe, for now. You are not the reason we're here, after all."
For now takes an extra three days on the road in which Solona learns all about walking, relieving herself with her hands tied behind her back, and sleeping while attached to a tree by an ever present length of rope. By the second day she's practically begging Rylock and any of the templars that will listen that she's really not going anywhere they're not. There are Darkspawn everywhere, after all. She's helpless and not about to set out on her own. Besides, she's come of her own accord, remember? She wants to go back to the Tower.
They ignore her.
When the village of Redcliffe comes into view she breathes a sigh of relief. She has no idea how long the small group will remain. Any amount of time off of her feet and sleeping indoors will be next to holiness, she thinks. Trailing behind the templars, she feels too tired to really look around her and check out this new and interesting place. She is not inclined to observe today; this fact alone tells her that she really needs rest.
The Chantry in Redcliffe looks suspiciously like the one in Lothering and it doesn't even give her pause as they climb the steps. The scent of lake she catches on the air from of Lake Calenhad, somewhere beyond the keep looming over the town, does make her stop. Just for a moment she allows the wave of nostalgia it brings to wash over her; she almost longs for the Tower at that moment. If she's honest with herself, and she tries to be, she really just misses the people inside that Tower. The doors open and the cool darkness she's lead into is a balm on her sun-weary face. It's hard for her to imagine that only a few months before she'd have never even thought about being sick of the sun but walking so much is . . . draining.
Not surprisingly the Chantry has a cell for runaway mages. Solona is about to protest Rylock shoving her into the room until she catches sight of the bed pushed against the wall and her mouth snaps shut. The door at her back echoes as it slams closed. There will be time, in a day or two, to worry about this prison.
At this moment she cares very very little for the bar covered windows and locked metal door. At this moment she only wishes to sleep.