My sincerest apologies for the delay. I actually managed to have a life for a couple weeks, and then I hate writing battle/fight scenes. Also, this part of the story has always been a bit fuzzy to me. In my head it was, "Um, yeah, then they rescue her." So I had to sort all that out as I was writing. Thanks so much for your patience. Enjoy!

Special thanks to JacksAreWild, for beta'ing this chapter for me :)

What did he just say? As she stared at him, she wanted to smack herself for not realizing his eyes were the same green as Grady's. Dear Andraste, spare her from having to suffer another shock today. She was certain that just one more would push her over the edge. "Keep-" she bit her tongue, "Liam, I'm so sorry…"

He waved her off, not looking at her. "Don't apologize. I knew this would all end in-" He cut himself off, frowning slightly. "I can't believe he gave you reason to kill him, that he'd sunk so low to," he swallowed audibly, "threaten your life."

Lorelai shook her head emphatically. "No, he didn't! I didn't." She gestured with her head toward Gilmore's corpse. "He killed your father." Andraste's sword, she wasn't explaining this properly. "Grady came to save me from him, and that's what got him killed."

Relieved understanding broke across his face. He shook himself, and seemed to really see her at last. "Your Majesty! Dear Maker, are you hurt?"

"No, no," she insisted, releasing Grady's cooling hand and getting to her feet. "It's his," she said to explain the blood, gesturing to Gilmore's body. Keep's – Liam's – eyes went wide as she rose. Her dress clung to her body with thick, sticky blood, and her stomach wasn't hidden by its roominess any more, even while standing.

"Maker preserve me," he whispered. "You're…you're…"

"Pregnant," she finished for him, placing her hands on her belly calmly. "It's all right, Liam. It happens all the time, usually when a woman spends time with her husband."

His cheeks flared, and the color spread to his ears. The blush was so similar to Alistair's that her heart clenched. "This whole time, you've…"

Why did all the men around her lose their minds at her current state? She needed him to keep it together. "Liam," she said firmly. "Now is not the time for this."

His eyes finally focused, and though he was still too pale, he nodded. "Right." Offering her a hand, he managed a small smile. "Let's get you out of here, Your Majesty." As she reached out to take it, he twitched it away at the last second. "You're not going to punch me again, are you?"

She bit her lip in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry-"

A deafening impact shook the air, and Liam snatched her hand and pulled her close as he looked around frantically. The sounds of more collisions followed – an unending barrage that sounded like explosions. He cursed loudly.

The bright light swallowed Lorelai's mind again, and the matriarch's insistence was borderline crushing. [We are coming.] She gasped as the presence faded. The Call was there, she could feel the white-hot cord stretching between herself and the herd. But it wasn't normal. She couldn't direct them like she could other animals. It was as she feared: they were helping…with no guidance from her.

"My Queen?" Liam called, sounding frantic, like he'd called her several times already.

"We need to get out fast," she replied. "I Called some…help in a panic earlier, and they're attacking the fortress. It won't hold against them, we have to move," she explained to his stunned face.

He blinked for a second, and she watched the word "Called" with its capitalization register on his face. "Come on," he said, drawing his blades. "Stick close to me." And they were off down the corridor.

Andraste bless men who didn't ask questions.

If the Maker descended from the sky and swept his fist over the entire jungle, Alistair imagined there would be less chaos. His mouth went dry, and for a few long moments he could do nothing but stare in open-mouthed shock. The only consolation was that he could sense his companions ringed behind him, staring just as blatantly as he was.

The elephants had fanned out around the fortress's massive front gate, the smaller ones kept back by a few of what were, presumably, the adults. Reaching down with their...unbelievable noses, they were tearing apart pieces of the crumbling gauntlet of stone that circled the fortress. With great, bellowing cries and surges of more muscle than Alistair had ever seen on any living creature other than a High Dragon, they were throwing the chunks of stone at the fortress.

Trunks. Isabela says their noses are called trunks, he thought numbly as he watched a stone the size of his shield go speeding through the air. It slammed into the outer wall, which crumbled a bit as the projectile fell away.

"Oh…my…" Sigrun whispered from somewhere behind him.

Yes, that about covered it. In the time it had taken them to get here, the battlements had been utterly destroyed. They had nothing to fear from archers; you can't shoot at invaders if there's nowhere to stand.

There was not a hint of retaliation from the fortress. Alistair couldn't imagine why. In the face of such an attack, he'd probably be hiding in the basement, cowering behind his shield.

Chatter began to break through his fascinated stupor. "Zev, let's go," Leliana was saying, raising her voice to be heard over the constant noise of the attacking elephants.

Right, the plan. They'd divided into teams. Leliana and Zevran would go back to Lorelai's cell with Anders, Oghren, Aideen, and Aednat. If Lorelai were…injured (and Alistair's mind blatantly shied away from the thought), Anders would be needed to heal her. The presence of the bulk of their warriors would ensure her safety if they had to fight their way out. Anders and Oghren would be able to track her through their shared tainted blood if she had been moved.

He was also determinedly shying away from that other thought. That…father thought. If he dwelled on that right now, he'd go stark, raving mad. It made Lorelai's captivity infinitely more horrible. Not to mention the fact that he was going to be partially responsible for another human being. A tiny human being. A tiny, helpless human being.

What if he dropped it? What if he let it get hurt? What if it…didn't like him?

Madness was rapidly approaching. He swerved his mind away with about as much finesse and subtlety as the elephants were displaying

The plan, yes. That left Nathaniel, Sigrun, Isabela, Jacob and Shale with him. The mabari was refusing to leave his side. His team's goal was far less complex. Death. Lots of it.

Not too many warriors surrounding the precious King, but he wasn't interested in being protected. He was interested in killing. All he needed was people to watch his back…and he wasn't sure he was all too concerned with that either. In any case, Shale would be more than sufficient for that.

The talk of his companions faded away as the heavy thumping of the elephants' assault invaded his bones, thrumming in his skull. It wasn't the sound of traditional combat by any means. It actually reminded him a little bit of the final fight with the Archdemon, with the constant booming repetitions of the ballista.

Husband and Lover bellowed with the elephants, screamed in time with their bugling calls. King, pushed to the back, was in odd agreement with the other two. Take back its Queen; return her to her proper glory. A harmony with Husband's desire for its wife and Lover's need for its partner.

Blood needed to be spilled. He needed to be the one to spill it. It was the only outlet for the churning pit in his chest that he'd lived with since Sigrun and Oghren had followed him to the practice room and delivered their shocking message. He had to be rid of it, and it would only leave in a wash of others' blood.

More words cut into his awareness. "You go. I'll stay with the King," Aednat said.

"What?" Aideen snapped back. "Don't be ridiculous."

That was compelling enough to get Alistair to tear his eyes away from the destruction going on in front of him. Aednat was smiling gently at Aideen's snarl. She stepped close to her "twin", and whispered something in her ear. The brunette stiffened, pulling back and shooting the other elf a glare. Aednat squeezed her arm gently before stepping up beside Alistair.

"You sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't fathom Aednat's desire to be away from Aideen, or Zevran for that matter. They'd purposefully divided with new lovers in mind, so no one would be distracted wondering about their other half's situation. One could argue that the presence of a significant other could be just as distracting, but Alistair could not help but side with the former reasoning.

After all, he'd gotten to spend the Blight by his lover's side. All the way until the end. He could not fathom what it would've been like to be left at camp and watch her go. He would not force his companions to watch their lovers go.

"I'm sure," she said with a nod.

A great, wrenching noise screeched through the air, and everyone whipped their heads around. An enterprising elephant was trying to yank the front gates clean off their enormous hinges, and the heavy wood was not holding up well to the attack.

Perfect.

Alistair glanced behind him at Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Isabela. "Don't get in my way," he said, but he tried to take as much bite out of the words as possible.

He knew he'd succeeded by Sigrun's wide grin. "Wouldn't dream of it, Your Majesty."

The wooden gate shrieked, and there was a muffled boom as it toppled to the ground. The elephants shook the very ground with their triumphant voices. The one who'd torn down the gate charged inside. More followed.

"Excellent," Shale said in a tone verging on cheerful. "May I begin crushing skulls?"

"As many as you want," he assured her, feeling his own bloodlust tremble with joy at the very thought.

"Then it should lead the way."

Lorelai's world had shrunk to the white-hot cord of the Call. Everything else was background, unnecessary and fuzzy. She had vague impressions of chaos, of shaking walls and crumbling stone. They encountered occasional resistance, but only in pockets of two or three mercenaries. Liam easily dispatched them, which was good because she wouldn't have been any help even without the matriarch's iron grip.

They stopped for a minute, she thought. She leaned against the trembling wall, maybe. Her eyes didn't see the corridor. What she saw was a scrambled battlefield, great clouds of dust and debris, giant bodies, pounding feet. What she felt was stone against her skin before her muscles bunched and threw the rocky missile with deadly accuracy.

She pulled a breath in slowly. Not only did she have to try to ground herself, she had to try to get control of the Call. They'd bring the place down around herself and Liam if she didn't. The matriarch was taking her abduction very personally, for some reason. Through her, the entire herd was maddened.

"Your Majesty?" Liam asked cautiously.

His voice sounded miles away…and underwater. "I'm all right," she answered anyway, even as her vision wavered again. The corridor came into focus for a few seconds, showing her their precarious position, dust falling from the ancient ceilings as the herd decimated the structural integrity of the whole fortress. "Shoddy workmanship, this," she panted, gesturing with her head to their surroundings.

"Time will make anything shoddy, Your Majesty," he replied. "I imagine this place was as solid as a mountain once upon a time. Now…" He paused, shaking his head as he looked around. "Whatever you've Called, this ruin isn't going to hold up much longer." He patted the wall behind him. "It shouldn't be shaking like this, it shouldn't be-"

Her eyes were snatched away as the matriarch swallowed her again, drawing a surprised gasp out of her. The animal's fury surged through her, and a rumbling growl poured from Lorelai's throat.

"Maker's breath," Liam blurted out in shock, and she felt his uncertainty fill the air between them.

His oath, with its aching familiarity, brought her a tiny measure of clarity. She shouted down the cord of the Call, throwing all the control she could gather into the question, [Why?]

The matriarch seemed to freeze for an instant. Lorelai held her breath.

Images, memories, rode the Call back to her. Their power was like a physical blow, and she gasped again and sagged against the wall. Liam called for her desperately, but she couldn't respond. She could only watch the images in her mind with growing horror.

She saw, finally, a clear picture of the animals she had Called and was briefly fascinated by their curious forms. But her wonder was short-lived.

Through the matriarch's eyes, through her memories, atrocities were revealed.

Men with shining steel. Terror filling the air along with choking clouds of dusts. The thick scent of blood mixing suddenly in the panic-soaked air. Screams of pain and bellows of fury made it hard to breathe, as if sound could turn solid and choke any within its hearing.

Bodies collapsing all around. A nearby bull charges, if only to protect his mating rights. He is cut down, same as all the others, his massive form shaking the ground as he dies, metal slicing his belly and throat.

In her very human body, Lorelai wept.

A mad dash, a frantic escape. Enraged shouts in the bizarre human tongue fade as they flee. Just a handful of them now, a sorry shadow of the proud family they had once been. No matriarch to guide them, the eldest of them a half-grown female whose eyes are haunted by what she's seen and felt. As all their eyes are haunted.

And so they had survived. The matriarch, so young, ascended to her power quickly, overtaking the older female. She'd pulled a family from nothing, gathering other orphans of slaughter. But all her life she'd simmered with rage, waiting for justification, waiting for an opportunity to haunt the dreams of men as her dreams had been haunted.

This kind of rage was uncontrollable. Lorelai had Called them, but she did not have the reserves of strength to wield them. Not after months of loneliness and captivity, not after months without her warrior's strength to hold her, his shield to hide behind.

In her womb, her child turned and pressed himself against her body, cuddling as close to her heart as possible. It was the most extraordinary feeling in the world, stealing her momentary despair.

And from her son emanated power so clear and pure it made the Call sing with the added notes.

Both Lorelai and the matriarch stilled, awestruck.

Ranger mother, ranger son.

Lorelai seized her son's offering, wrestling his raw ability into orderly patterns. She had no idea what she was doing; she'd never experienced anything like this before. The day seemed to have that theme. The matriarch responded instantly, her rage easing and cooling as reason reasserted itself. The leader didn't exactly bow to Lorelai's authority, but the easing meant she accepted her, and her son's, direction.

Finally, the Call was hers. A small army of massive creatures she could wield like any weapon; that could be articulated as easily and precisely as she shot a bolt.

Her eyes blinked open, and she grinned widely into Liam's concerned, stricken face.

At first, Sigrun could only stand there. It wasn't like she was actually needed, anyway. That was clear. The…elephants had muscled their way into the courtyard, where it seemed the bastards who'd taken the Commander had been attempting to mass a counterattack. What had probably at one point been mildly organized had degenerated into chaos immediately. Who could blame them?

The elephants were slaughtering them. She'd never seen death like this, not even with the Legion. The mercenaries were crushed beneath massive feet, snapped like kindling by trunks, tossed like bags of grain. Men reduced to so much meat. It might have turned her stomach if they hadn't brought it on themselves.

"Feel the wrath of the ranger Queen of Ferelden," Nathaniel murmured beside her.

The King, slightly ahead of them, seemed at a loss for a few seconds. Then, without warning, he charged in among the elephants, looking for his share of the killing. Jacob was hot on his heels, growling and snapping.

"Bloody Stone!" Sigrun gasped as Isabela swore colorfully. Now she was just standing there for a completely different reason. She had, somewhat seriously, told Leliana she didn't need to see the King in battle to see who he truly was. Their sparring sessions had shown her.

Stone, was she wrong.

Dodging the giant grey bodies with an agility that baffled her, the King finally found what he was looking for: still-living foes. Men collapsed like felled trees as he swung his shield in a vicious arc. The shower of blood that erupted around him was shocking, despite the massacre going on around them. His sword finished off any whose skulls hadn't been crushed by the shield's impact.

"Feel the wrath of her King," she countered, finally turning to look at Nathaniel in stunned disbelief.

Her lover could do nothing but nod.

Without a word, the golem stomped off, wading in among the elephants to reach the King's side as Isabela snorted, "We're lucky idiots. Standing around like a bunch of Chantry sisters. If they weren't so occupied, we'd be dog food about now."

She had a point, and the King's back wasn't going to watch itself. Sigrun drew her blades. "Bet I kill more than you, pirate," she tossed to the tall woman.

Isabela threw back her head and laughed. "I'll take that bet, dwarf. Guess we'd better get going," Isabela said, and dashed into the fight.

Sigrun turned to Nathaniel, searching for some casual quip to dance off her tongue, but the look on his face stopped her. Concern, determination, fear. There were no words for that face. Grabbing a bit frantically, she snatched his hand, honest words of caution on her tongue instead.

Then everything changed.

The elephants, so content with a bloodbath just moments ago, suddenly stopped. As one, they turned and focused their attention on the courtyard's left wall instead. They threw themselves at it with the same gusto they'd had against the outer walls before the front gate had fallen.

Which left what looked like hundreds of mercenaries, pouring out of dozens of doorways, with nothing to occupy them.

"Nathaniel, go," she said sharply, shoving him in the direction of a nearby alcove. A short climb, and it would be an acceptable shooting position for him. As good as they were going to get at the moment.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded instead.

"Go," Aednat chimed, silent up until this point. "Your abilities aren't meant for hanging back here." When Sigrun didn't move, the elf jerked her head. "Go, I'll defend him."

For the second time, Sigrun wondered what on Thedas had made Aednat separate herself from Aideen and Zevran. In their interactions, it had seemed like Aednat had stronger feelings for the assassin than her "twin". At least in the former legionnaire's opinion.

Turning as she was bid, she focused on the King instead, and made a promise to herself. No matter what he did, what risks he took, the Commander's husband would not fall. Not while she still breathed.

Lorelai rode the crest of power, the adrenaline pulsing through her. She felt like she held a thick rope in her hands, and that rope branched out into a myriad of strings. The rope was the matriarch, and each string connected to one of the herd. She felt through the rope to the individuals. Twitch a string here, tug a string there, and each animal reacted instantly, adjusting to her whim.

Though she'd gained control, she'd also gained some of the matriarch's rage. The archer knew what it was like to drag a family together from nothing, to forge love in desperate times. To defend those who belonged to you with single-minded ferocity. The matriarch's anger had dug a small foothold in her mind, and it drove her already-considerable ruthlessness to new heights.

Lorelai had only one instruction. She articulated it with images, but the words rang down the Call just the same. [Bring it down.]

The herd swung to her new goal, purpose filling them where only murderous anger had filled them before.

"Lorelai!" Liam shouted, shaking her by the shoulders.

She jerked her eyes open. When had she closed them? She gave a giddy, power-drunk laugh, "Ha! I was beginning to think you didn't even know my name."

He managed to look uncomfortable. "You weren't answering to anything else."

"I'll be certain to let my mabari give you a ferocious licking as punishment for your insolence," she teased, dissolving into giggles before she'd finished speaking.

"We need to go," he said slowly, patiently, though his face was anything but calm.

Lorelai looked around them, striving to focus on her surroundings, and not the fascinating power of the Call. Things had gotten worse, the shaking was increasing. It should be, after all. She'd given her army a command, which they were joyfully obeying.

"Right," she said, swallowing hard. She had to fight the lure of the Call, or she'd lose herself in it again, and be about as useful as dead weight to Liam. "Sorry, the Call is…"

"I gathered," he assured her. "I need you to stay with me."

"I will," she said, then revised her opinion as the Call, fueled by her son's power, pulled on her. "I'll try."

Liam gave her a semi-sour grin. "Not the vote of confidence I was looking for, but it will have to do." He took her hand, and they started walking. They only made it a few feet when Lorelai stumbled to a stop. Liam just barely caught her, or she would've fallen. "What is it?"

At first, she couldn't even speak. The cool, tingling was assaulting her from every angle. This had nothing to do with her ranger abilities, this was-

"Wardens," she finally pushed out between gritted teeth. She could feel them all, seething through the walls. The nuances of their tainted blood told her all she needed to know. From somewhere to her left Anders and Oghren. From somewhere to her right and down Nathaniel, Sigrun, and…Alistair. "Oh, Andraste," she whimpered.

She was worse than careless, worse than ignorant. She had not even thought of them this whole time. And now Andraste only knew exactly where they were…and she'd bid her army to tear the place to pieces.

[Stop!] she commanded.

The matriarch reined in the herd, but the damage had been done. Lorelai felt it vibrating through her feet. The fortress could take the demolition no longer. The vibration was increasing, gaining momentum like a charging bull.

The walls had fallen. The whole place was coming down.

Alistair bathed in blood, seeking to fill the pit in his chest, but it seemed bottomless. No matter, it would fill…eventually.

The elephants had been kind enough to redirect themselves, choosing to attack the courtyard's walls instead of the men. See, his wife's minions didn't feel the need to protect him like a coddled baby bird. Why wasn't everyone else this helpful?

He was dimly aware of everyone around him – of Isabela's lightning quick blades and Jacob's muscular jaws, of Shale's crushing fists and Sigrun's indomitable fortitude. Occasionally the enemies around him sprouted arrows from their chests and necks, and that's how Alistair knew Nathaniel was at work.

The mercenaries kept coming, wave after wave of them. Their numbers seemed endless. Good. The pit seething below his heart was in no danger of filling up. He'd kill them until he was satiated.

Suddenly, Shale knocked him backwards with a sweep of her fist. He stumbled over the many dead and sprawled on his backside. Fury filled him, that she would dare to stop him from killing.

"Is it so moronic that it can't feel it?" she boomed from above him, her blood-splattered jewels gleaming brightly.

He took a breath to snap at her, when two things happened at once. First, he did feel it, a barely-audible grinding of stone against stone. Hardly a noise, more like a sensation, but it set his teeth on edge all the same. Second, the whispering, crawling-of-insects sensation that had been a homecoming to him so many years ago, that had saved him from an empty life as a templar, was suddenly screaming. It pulled at him like he was a fish on a line, pulled him so hard it dragged him to his feet.

"Lorelai," he whispered and his blood-drugged mind saw its opening. A break in the flow of mercenaries. Without a backward glance, he barreled through the empty doorway, leaving the astounded shouts of his companions behind. He left them to scramble after him, and barely heard the grinding of stone turn into a cascade of thunder and falling rock.

Nathaniel's jaw fell open at the scene before him, and he nearly dropped his bow. The golem knocked the King down, and seconds later the Commander's presence slammed into him, staggering him. The King then – Maker help them all – dashed off into the fortress through a doorway on the right-hand side of the courtyard, following the trail of the Commander's Warden blood.

But it was the work of the elephants that made the archer's knees start trembling.

They'd abandoned their manslaughter before, and had been systematically undermining the left side of the courtyard since then. Their focus was brutal, and it was only a matter of time before…

He blinked rapidly, trying to keep breathing, as the entire left side of the courtyard, and subsequently the left side of the fortress itself, acknowledged defeat.

In a wave of broken stone and a cloud of dust that grew as if it had a life of its own, the left wall collapsed inward. The elephants raised their voices in victory, as the courtyard wall melted into the fortress behind it. A domino effect was happening, as the destruction gained momentum and the ancient stronghold gave way, crumbling in on itself.

The effect on Nathaniel's perch was immediate. He was shaken to the ground, landing with a grunt on his hands and knees, his bow skidding away from him. He watched, enthralled, for a few moments as his bow jigged across the ground from the miniature earthquake the dying fortress was creating.

Because the elephants had directed the destruction inwards, it didn't spill into the courtyard too badly. He raised his head to see his companions all relatively safe. Sigrun, in particular, looked no worse for wear. Nathaniel let out a shaking breath, relief almost making him laugh.

"Come on, Warden," Aednat said, hauling him to his feet.

"We have to go after him," he gagged, even as Jacob gained his feet and disappeared through the same doorway as the King.

"Aye," she agreed, then grunted with satisfaction as the golem dispatched the last of the mercenaries into a bloody pulp.

As they joined up with the rest of their team, the elephants milled around, as if they weren't sure what to do next. "Have a nice fall?" Isabela asked.

"Sure," Nathaniel answered sarcastically. "I should do it everyday."

"You OK?" Sigrun asked.

"Yes, dear," he said, smiling broadly for her. "You?"

"Yeah," she nodded, grinning back. Her happiness faded around the edges after a few seconds. "The place is going to go. I'm going after him, but no one else has to. It's dangerous."

"What a thing to say," Isabela snorted. "As if now someone is going to turn tail and run."

"All right," Sigrun shrugged, then winked at Nathaniel, melting his heart with her bravery and adorably infuriating recklessness. "Let's go."

Liam's eyes widened at the vibrations, and he dragged her forward. He bent down, intending to pick her up.

"No, don't," she protested, shoving him.

"You can't run."

"And you can't keep your footing and carry me." She squeezed his hand. "The fastest way outside, wherever that is, now."

He swallowed, nodding, and led the way. Lorelai kept up as best she could. She could feel the matriarch and her herd waiting for orders, but at the moment, Lorelai had none to give. She wouldn't risk anything else until she had found her people. It would be Andraste's own mercy if she hadn't accidentally killed any of them already.

Well, at least she could be sure she hadn't killed any of the Wardens. Their presence was still bombarding her, rivaling the Call for dominance in her head. If they were dead, the surge of their tainted blood would've been snuffed out.

A small pack of mercenaries appeared in their path, materializing from one of the myriad of doors that seemed to pepper the place. Lorelai had a moment to think in frustration, How many rooms are there in here? before shrinking back against the wall, leaving Liam as much room as he needed.

"Come on," he panted as the final one slid off his blade to slump to the ground. Lorelai took his hand, but stumbled over one of the bodies, going down to her knees in front of him.

The presence of "Warden" was suddenly so thick Lorelai's breath faltered in her lungs. She whipped her head to the left, looking in the direction they'd been heading before this last scuffle.

There he was.

Shrouded in blood, shining steel only sneaking occasional winks and gleams in certain places. Amber eyes burning through the slits in his helm. Chest heaving with massive effort.

"Alistair," she whispered, turning towards him as instinctively as a flower turns toward the sun.