"Any luck?"

Anders opened his eyes to see the assassin standing next to his bed, still dressed in the clothes he'd left in. Zevran looked as tired as he felt. As a guess, the Antivan hadn't put head to pillow. "No," he said. An enormous yawn escaped his mouth as he rubbed his eyes, gritty from his own lack of sleep.

The elf nodded silently and sat on the side of his bed. "Then we know nothing more."

It was a statement, but Anders heard a question there too. Was she dead? Was she tranquil? "Perhaps she didn't sleep last night either."

Neither of them knew that Lucy hadn't slept until dawn broke, or what horror would unfold for her that day as Ser Alrik brandished his power by rendering another mage tranquil with her as a witness.

"What about you? Did you find anything?" Anders asked.

Zevran shook his head, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. "Nothing…"

The word was suspended in space. There was something left unsaid. "Why do I feel there's more you're not saying?" Anders asked.

"It is likely nothing."

"Perhaps, but you're not entirely convinced. Tell me."

"The whores are busier than normal. It seems a few templars have come into some money. Others are sulking, ordering the cheapest drink, cursing their fortune. Madam Lusine believes they're gambling on dog fights. She overheard them talking about a vicious red bitch who never loses a fight."

Anders sat upright and stared at the Crow. "You don't think that was a dog."

Shrugging, Zevran lay back on his bed, folding his arms behind his head. "I think that description could match Lucia just as easily." His eyes slid shut.

"Easily," Anders echoed. "Sleep some. Hawke will be coming soon to take us to Karl."

There was only the faint, regular breathing of a sleeper to answer him.

~o~o~o~

Lowtown was a slum, Anders thought, but Darktown was something even worse. This place gave squalid a whole new meaning, then mugged it and left it for dead. The pitiable souls who lived here were starving, and they were the lucky ones. The others were starving and diseased. The only people thriving were ones who should be spike-cozies, their heads keeping the ends of spikes warm. Yes, Darktown was where the edge of humanity met the edge of civilization and most people fell off. In a word, it was just the sort of place Karl would love.

"Uh, do you think you could give me a moment?" Anders turned to his companions and asked. Showing up like this was going to be a hell of shock to Karl, and then to explain everything that had happened since his last days at the Circle; best to do it alone.

Motioning to Varric and Isabela, Hawke walked them off a little way, but Zevran stayed behind.

"It's okay, Antiva. I know Karl. We were good friends back in the Circle," Anders said.

"I'll wait here." Zevran leaned against a plank that wasn't as dirty and decayed as most of them were.

Giving a short nod, Anders turned and slowly opened the door to the clinic. Karl's back was to him as he walked in, tending to someone lying on a threadbare mattress, blue healing light coming from his hands.

"Please, take a seat. I'll be with you shortly," Karl said.

He sounded distracted and, more than anything, exhausted. Anders walked up behind his friend and observed the person on the table. A young man, pale and shivering, lay there. Lung fever, no doubt. He stood next to Karl and extended his hands over the patient and began healing in tandem.

"That won't help," Karl said, not even looking up. "You need something for inhaled toxins. This is chokedamp, not lung fever." His voice sounded weary and tense.

"Oh," Anders said. He switched his magic and the infection ravaging the boy cleared quickly.

He and Karl dropped their hands simultaneously. Karl shut his eyes and swayed, about to drop where he stood.

"Easy there," Anders said. He put out a hand to steady his friend and watched him make an effort to pull himself together.

"Thanks, friend." Karl turned toward Anders to see who had so generously helped him, and he gasped. "Sweet Maker, I'm hallucinating." He staggered again and this time Anders caught him in a hug.

"No hallucination, Karl." He squeezed his old friend tightly, afraid to let go for fear he would collapse. "You need to take a break, my friend."

"You… Anders, we all thought you were dead!" Karl laughed and then pounded Anders on the back with his fist. "You bastard, you're alive!"

"More alive than you look, Karl. Andraste's tits, don't you sleep?" He wanted to catch up with his friend, but not when he looked this exhausted.

"Busy time in Darktown. Lots of chokedamp right now and the regular healers can't do a thing with it." He separated himself from Anders and gave him a weary smile.

"Listen, I met some of your friends in town. Doria Hawke, Varric, Isabela, those names sound familiar?"

Nodding Karl sat down on the bed next to his sleeping patient. "Oh yeah. I go on jobs with them sometimes. The money helps keep the clinic open and running, and besides I owe Hawke just about everything. She pays most of the bills. She's a hell of a woman, Anders."

"Karl?" Anders couldn't help the little smile. "You changing your mind after all these years? She's an attractive woman."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Not me, brother. You know my tastes. I was thinking about you."

"Ah." Anders returned the chuckle. "Well, it can't be me."

"No?" Karl tilted his head. "Did someone finally snare slippery Anders?"

"I have a lot to tell you, and I need your help, Karl. But you need some sleep, man. Look, get to bed and catch some Fade time. Then come to the Hanged Man tonight."

"I can't, Anders. I have more patients to see."

"I'll take care of them. Point me at them." Anders clasped an arm around Karl's shoulders and they toured the small, but tidy, clinic together.

Waiting until his old friend had retired to the small room that served as his bedroom, Anders stepped outside the clinic.

"Antiva, I saw Karl. He's fine, but exhausted. I'm going to take over here for the rest of the day. You don't need to stay."

Zevran pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against and clapped a hand on Anders's shoulder. "You sure there won't be any templar raids?"

Anders shook his head. "Nothing is ever certain."

"Death is, my friend."

"Well, for today at least, not even that is certain if I take over while Karl rests." Anders began to roll up his sleeves and turned to go back to the clinic.

"Be careful, Anders," Zevran said, watching the mage's retreating back. "I don't want to have to rescue you too."

Turning at the door, Anders looked back at Zevran and nodded. It was good to know that his rival had his back. Maybe it was time to stop thinking about him as a rival.

~o~o~o~

That evening in the Hanged Man, a group assembled in one of the back rooms—the dwarf's private room, Zevran learned. Hawke was there with an exotically tattooed elf, one who wielded a two-handed sword nearly as large as himself. Isabella and a Dalish elf were also present. Karl entered late and seated himself next to Anders.

Anders leaned over and whispered to Zevran. "Ingenious. He has lyrium tattooed into his skin."

Zevran felt a flash of envy. Had he even known such a thing were possible, he'd have sought it out. The tattoos were stylish, and presumably lent him the strength to wield that enormous great sword.

"Interesting," Anders said, musing quietly to Zevran. "I think a mage could draw on that lyrium, like taking a potion."

"Like Lucy does with that necklace? Hmm. Perhaps I should have myself embroidered so."

"For her? She's got that necklace."

Zevran stole a glance at Anders from the corner of his eye, his mouth forming a half-smile. "Perhaps another mage would find it useful. Besides, they're stunning."

Karl whispered to Anders, loud enough for Zevran to hear. "I wouldn't advise it, the process is exceedingly painful. The young man has quite an aversion to touch from the process. Who knows what the stuff is doing to him."

Zevran overheard the comment and chuckled softly. "I've had worse."

Karl was about to voice another comment when Varric stood on his chair and called the meeting to order. "All right, settle. Let's get this meeting going." He turned to the tall woman slouched into a chair who looked broodingly at the lyrium embellished elf. "Would you do the honors, Hawke?"

She sat up straighter and her sour look was replaced by one of intense purpose. "We're breaking a mage out of the Gallows, a friend to Zevran and Anders, lately from Ferelden." She gestured at the two men. "And, of some note, she's the Grey Warden who ended the blight. She shouldn't be in the Gallows."

"Oh!" the Dalish elven girl exclaimed. "That's simply terrible. Aren't Grey Wardens outside the jurisdiction of the Chantry?" She peered at Hawke with oversized green eyes and then turned her owlish gaze to the two outsiders. "How wonderful she has friends coming to rescue her! Are you Grey Wardens too?"

Zevran exchanged a look with Anders and this time Anders rushed to provide the explanation. "She's my inamorata." Zevran didn't miss the gloating smile.

"So someone did catch slippery Anders!" Karl grinned at his old friend and clasped his shoulder warmly.

Isabela's sharp laugh cut through the assembly. "Let's save time. The hero is claiming her reward in this lifetime. She's sleeping with both of 'em."

"Oh!" the Dalish elf exclaimed. "Is polyandry a Fereldan custom? How delightful!"

Hawke sighed and shook her head. "No, Merrill. But despite her greed, we're rescuing her. The Chantry has far overstepped itself this time and they're due for a good smack down."

"The Gallows is said to be impregnable." Merrill's eyes had somehow grown even bigger with wonder. "How can we break in?"

Varric snorted into his beer. "As impregnable as a wayward Chantry sister after a pint of White Shear. Karl escaped."

Isabela nodded in agreement. "So did that oaf, the Launcet boy."

"And he fell off a wagon of stupid," Varric interjected. "But he somehow managed to escape. I think if he can break out, we can break in."

"I do not believe in impregnable," Zevran said. "They said that about the Fortress Moretti and yet it was infiltrated. Although it took six months to execute, eventually we had enough guards planted or bought off, to open the main gates."

"If only we had six months," Anders said.

"You don't need six months," Karl said. "Just take a boat, by the dark of night, to the far side of The Gallows. I can show you how to get in. There's a labyrinth of tunnels. I was lost in there for days, but eventually I saw patterns in the markings on the wall that led me out."

"Then we go," Zevran said. "Tonight."

"Not so fast," Karl said. "We have no idea where she is inside there. We'd be walking around blind."

"Not entirely blind," Anders said. "Wardens can sense each other through the tainted blood we share, if we can get close enough."

"How close is close enough?" Hawke asked.

Frowning, Anders shrugged. "I never was the best at that particular skill."

"Then if we successfully break into The Gallows we'd have to conduct a search for her. We'd shortly have every templar in Kirkwall on our asses," Hawke said. "Too dangerous. We need more concrete information."

"There might be a way," Anders said. "I have… well, limited communications with her."

Zevran watched him struggling with the decision as to whether or not to reveal his ability to find her in his dreams. He put a hand on Anders's should and nodded. "We have no choice but to trust these people," he said quietly.

Giving a short nod, Anders began to speak. "I can find her in the Fade when she sleeps. If she sleeps."

All eyes turned to Anders, and Merrill gasped loudly. "A dreamwalker? How can it be? That talent was lost with Arlathan."

"Hardly, Merrill. He is a Somniari. A practice even the magisters in Tevinter have banned." The lyrium decorated elf stood and began to reach for the great sword he had leaned against the wall. His voice was a deep growl. "They sneak into your dreams, drive you mad, or even kill you."

Zevran stood just as quickly, hands ready to unsheathe his own weapons. Why had he been so trusting? There was always something. No matter, he would defend his rival, his friend.

"Hold!" Hawke also jumped to her feet and glared at the elf standing beside her. "Enough Fenris."

He seemed to wither under her gaze, and sunk back into his chair. Zevran noted the hostility still lingering in the other elf's eyes. This one would bear watching. He seemed loyal to his friends but there was a hatred that burned in him, one that would either immolate him, or those around him.

"Look, the only thing anyone has to fear from me in their sleep is me seeing their deepest fears and darkest desires disguised by indecipherable symbolism. I've used it to try to communicate with Lucy, which I might add, is damn hard. And, uh, well to rescue her from the bad dreams that plagued her."

Karl looked intently at Anders and then shifted his gaze to Hawke. "I can vouch for the man. He's as skilled a healer as I ever met. His worst crimes were playing childish pranks and running away from the Circle. I would trust him with my life."

"A mage vouching for another mage, that's heartening," Fenris grumbled loudly enough to be heard.

"Fenris!" Hawke's voice cut through the room like a well-honed stiletto. "Outside, with me. Now."

The pair walked outside the room together shutting the door behind them. The only thing that surprised Zevran was that she hadn't dragged him out by the ear.

"Apologies," Varric said. "Fenris has trust issues where mages are concerned. He was a slave in Tevinter."

Varric did his level best to engage the group in lively conversation to take their minds off the pair in the hallway yelling at one another. In the end, only Hawke returned.

"Fenris sends his regrets," she said, her face looking like the inside of a thundercloud. "He's feeling like a bit of an asshole tonight. Hopefully after spending a long night of brooding and throwing wine bottles—newly emptied ones of course—he'll feel better tomorrow."

"Poor boy just needs a little…" Isabela began to say.

"Shut it, Isabela. I'm not in the mood," Hawke said, her words chopping like hatchets. She nodded at Anders. "Do your dream-walking thing and get a message to Lucy. If you can get some idea of where she is inside the Gallows, we'll go tomorrow night. Otherwise we've got to try something else. I might be able to see the First Enchanter. It isn't always easy to get to him. Depends on how cranky the templars are feeling."

"Sounds like a plan," Varric said.

Everyone's tensions were high after the argument between Fenris and Hawke. Zevran shrugged it off, it wasn't his problem. A few hours of sleep and then he'd prowl around the city. He knew Anders would have another sleepless night too. No matter. Whatever Hawke and her people decided, he and Anders would attempt the rescue the following night.

He and the mage took to their room to sleep a few hours. By whatever gods that there might be, he silently prayed, let us get to her in time.

~o~o~o~

Orsino stood in shocked disbelief, taking in my blood-covered hands, burned leg, and the skimpy outfit I was dressed in. The fight with the saarebus had left me looking like I'd been shot out of a dragon's ass after a thorough chewing.

"What in the Maker's name are they doing to you?" He rushed over to me and helped me to my bed.

"It isn't as bad as it looks." I limped to my bed and sat down gingerly, gasping as the burn on the back of my thigh stung like mad. "All right. It is as bad as it looks. Shit that hurts!" After the adrenaline and tainted blood magic wore off, I was feeling aches and burns that I hadn't noticed in the dome.

"Dare I ask whose blood this is?" He began with my burned shin, gently touching it as he healed. After healing the worst of my burns, his searching hands found a few sore spots, burns,bruises, pulled muscles, and had them feeling better in short order.

"It isn't mine." The words rushed out, knowing that behind every blood mage was the question of blood magic. "Well, not all of it. Most of it is from the Qunari mage the templars had me fight." I watched his hands working their healing magic.

He looked at me intensely, as if trying to both puzzle out the truth and make sense of what I'd said. "Maybe you should start there."

"Fighting the saarebus?" I yelped as he prodded a burn. "Don't all the apostates undergo a trial by combat in the black lyrium dome?" I scowled at him, thinking of Alrik's lies. "Ser Alrik assured me this was far more humane than a harrowing." I hadn't wanted to fight another person, but the saarebus was seriously trying to kill me.

"You're serious?" He drew away from me, alarm plainly written on his face. "That would explain why so few apostates have joined us of late. As harsh as she is, the Knight-Commander never would've allowed this."

"Where is she? She sounds like a peach compared to Alrik."

Snorting with contempt, Orsino resumed searching out my hurts. "In Orlais, meeting with the Divine. She'll be back in a week, maybe less." He suddenly let go of the leg he had been healing and looked at me with alarm. "You've got to get out of here before she returns."

"Didn't you just say she'd be the one to call a stop to this nonsense?"

"Alrik knows she wouldn't approve. He won't leave behind any evidence. At least not any that can accuse him of anything."

Swallowing hard, I tried to remember to breathe. "So by that you mean, I'm either going to end up dead or…"

"Tranquil, I'm afraid."

"Don't say that!" I could feel my throat closing with panic. "Is there any way out? If there is, I have to know. You must tell me!" I gripped the small man's shoulders and met his eyes with my own terror filled ones. His were sympathetic. I didn't want sympathy. I wanted solutions.

He nodded slowly, reluctantly. "There are ways out, but you're so well-guarded here, I don't see how we could make it work."

"Can you get someone in?" If anyone could get me out of here, it would be Zevran. He didn't have to worry about a templar exploding his mana and he was sneaky.

"Yes. It has been done." He looked nervous, and his hesitation was telling. "Dangerous though. For them and for me."

Tears slid down my cheeks at his reluctance. "I know I'm asking a lot. You don't really even know me, why should you care?" I wasn't ordinarily manipulative, but what he was saying had truly frightened me. "I'm sure I won't be the first mage who never sees her baby again, or her husband just returned from a terrible battle. All this after nearly dying when I killed the archdemon. But Orsino…" I let the tears come. They, at least, were honest. "I can't just stand around and let it happen. Are you going to?"

He wouldn't meet my eyes, but his hand gently glided over my leg and he healed the burn. I could tell he wasn't committed. "I will do what I can," he said.

I closed my eyes and bit at my lip to keep the sob from coming. I'll do what I can, was as close to a "no" as you could get without actually saying it.

"What about getting this thing off my neck?" I asked, pulling at the strangler. "If it were off, I'd be out of here in a minute."

He looked at me curiously. "Really? How?"

"Magic that isn't taught in the Circles. I learned from Flemeth's daughter."

I saw him growing intensely interested in me all of a sudden. "Such as?" he asked. His already wide eyes widened further.

"Shape-shifting, for one." I choked back my tears, realizing I might have found the leverage I needed.

"Transmogrification?" He sat up and his eyes shone with excitement. "That magic was lost ages ago, and if it hadn't been it would certainly be banned by the Chantry." He grasped my hand and squeezed it with his excitement. "Truly, you know how to do this?"

I sniffed and dashed the tears off my face with the back of my hand. "It isn't forgotten amongst the Dalish, and others outside of the Circle's purview. I have learned several animal forms."

He leapt up from my bedside and began to pace back and forth. "If you're tranquil or dead you can't very well pass it along. You could write down the process. Words of power, mental exercises, any ingredients if it is a ritual…"

"It isn't a ritual. It is quite easy if you're very familiar with your target. I could write a guide for you."

"Oh yes, do that. Do you have ink and quill?" He darted to my desk and looked through my drawers looking for a quill, but the only one I had was rough on one end, thanks to poking it through the templar peephole. "I will see you get more!"

"Orsino."

"How much parchment do you have?" He opened more drawers and started going through the armoire.

"Orsino," I repeated louder.

"Oh yes, ink! You seem to have plenty, but I'll have more sent up."

"ORSINO!" I shouted.

He froze in his tracks and stared at me in bewilderment. "What?"

"You don't get the spell until I get out of here. Besides, what makes you think Ser Alrik isn't going to consider you a loose end too?"

He almost looked like a mouse with darting eyes and quivering nose, watching out for a lurking cat. "Ah. Good point. I have been privy to your being here, haven't I?"

I nodded slowly, watching him carefully. "We have to kill him, unless you want to escape with me."

"Escape?" His eyes wandered up to the ceiling as he considered it. "I've spent my entire life in the Circle. Oh, I'm allowed to go into town, with a templar escort, of course. But I fear my freedom would be short-lived unless my phylactery was destroyed. I doubt I have skills to make it in the world out there, while here, my skills are needed and appreciated. No. Thank you for the offer, but I'll live out my years here."

"Then will you help me to leave? I promise Ser Alrik will die and you will be safe. I will also write that spell down for you." I barely breathed as I finished my proposal, too afraid he'd give me another tepid answer.

His eyes still sparkled with excitement. "I'm trusting there really is such a spell, but your point about my own vulnerability is well-taken. Very well. I will help you."

"Thank god," I whispered, reverting back to the oaths of my home world. "Look, let's start like this. Can you write down where I am in The Gallows?" I knew that it was a slight chance, but if I could memorize it, maybe I could tell Anders should he find me in my dreams again.

"Your quill is half-broken. But I will do my best." He sat down at my desk and began to write. The rough quill end scratched across the parchment surface. "You're on the second floor. You take a left at the south stairs, or right at the north stairs. Then you go down a long hallway. On the right, is another hallway with a heavy door, guarded by a pair of templars. There are three cells there for high-status prisoners. Yours is the first one on the left. I'll draw a map too."

I concentrated on the words he was writing and trying to commit them and the rough map to memory. I'd be lucky if I could read this afterward, the quill was awful, but when he finished, I read it and reread it trying to imprint it on my memory.

"Can you try to find someone in town for me?" I asked. "I'm sure they must be here." It was days ago that I'd had the message from Anders in my dream.

"Who and where?" he asked.

"Who is easy. One is Antivan. The other is a Grey Warden mage, Fereldan. The Antivan, Zevran, is a former Crow, so he's very good at this sort of thing. Anders is the mage. If he's close enough we can sense one another through the taint."

"The taint?" Orsino's head cocked and that intent scrutiny came back.

"Uh, a Grey Warden thing. Sort of a secret." I shrugged. "Dumb secret, actually. Look, get me out of here and I'll tell you that too."

"You don't know where I can find these individuals?" he said, frowning.

I shook my head. "I don't."

"Hm, I'll start by talking to Hawke. If anyone can find your rescuers, it would be Hawke."

I nodded eagerly. "That's good to hear!" I felt much heartened knowing that Orsino was on the job. "When can we talk again?"

"Why don't we leave a few of these bruises unhealed for now. You can ask your guard to send for me again. I will try to get word out tomorrow."

"Good! Or I can fall off a chair or something."

Orsino picked up my hand, and grazed it with his lips. What a charmer. "Until then, my lady."

I smiled at him as he left and looked back one last time. He was kind of cute. If my love life weren't already such a tangled mess… Shut up, Lucy!

~o~o~o~

Second floor. Left at the south stairs, right at the north stairs… I drifted off to sleep repeating those instructions and visualizing the layout of the place. First darkspawn swarmed the Gallows and chased me through the hallways I'd painstakingly memorized. I woke up poured myself a glass of water and repeated the instructions again, hoping Anders would come searching for me in the Fade.

On the right, is another hallway with a heavy door, guarded by a pair of templars. They let me through, so I opened the door and found my room, just as it always was. There was something important I needed to do, what was it? I lay down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember, when I heard a familiar grunting sound and my nerves hummed like razor wire being strummed.

"Darkspawn!" I sat up in bed, preparing to cast spells to protect myself, but then I felt the strangler around my neck. I remembered I had no weapons either. I was stuck here without any way to defend myself, except to punch them. Well hell, then, it was what had to be done. I flung open the door to my room and stepped out in the hallway, preparing for the onslaught of darkspawn.

"Lucy, it's me, love."

There was a thrill of someone stroking my arm with the lightest possible touch of nerve excitation magic. There was only one mage who did that to me.

"Anders!" I ran to him and buried my face in his neck. "The darkspawn are here, do you feel them?"

"No, this is a dream, Lucy. Now pay attention, sweetheart. I need you to wake up a little bit, but not entirely. Can you do that?"

"A dream?" The realization gradually sunk in and the feeling of darkspawn nearby left along with their snarling. "Then I'm not here, in the Gallows?"

"No. You are. Do you know where though?" Anders asked me, still stroking my arm but with a nerve-soothing magic.

"Oh yes, Orsino told me. I'm on the second floor." Everything swirled a little and I began to think of the second floor of the Tower of Ishal, where Alistair and I had fought our way through darkspawn and crazed mabari. My surroundings began to look like that tower.

"Who is Orsino?" he asked.

"The First Enchanter." As I said it, Orsino stepped forward from out of a gray mist. I smiled at him, delighted to see him again. "Orsino, meet Anders. He's here to rescue me! Can you tell him where I am? I'm forgetting. I know the beacon is at the top and we're supposed to light it. Or was it the bacon is on top and we're supposed to fry it?"

Anders stepped forward and held out a hand, taking Orsino's in his and he shook it. "Nice to meet you, First. Can you tell me the way to Lucy's cell?"

Orsino nodded at Anders. "Pleased to meet you, Anders." He looked at me and sighed. "So she's yours? She is quite the hot tamale, son. If she wasn't taken, I'd have moved on that." He stared quite pointedly at my ass. "That is one fine woman. Umm, um!"

I grinned at Orsino and caught Anders rolling his eyes. "Lucy, bad timing for a sex dream. Orsino needs to tell me where you are."

I turned and stamped my foot, glaring at Orsino. "Stop being a letch and tell him!"

"Oh, very well," Orsino sighed and turned back to Anders. "She's on the second floor. You can come by either the north or south stairs."

He spilled out the entire instructions while I began to play with the feathers and straps on Anders's coat. I tuned out everything Orsino was saying and had Anders half undressed by the time he was done listening to the instructions.

"Lucy, not now." Anders grabbed my hands and held them in his own. "I need to remember these instructions. There's something you need to pay close attention to. It seems like you have got some inside help and you may need to tell them this."

I pouted. "You've never turned down sex before. Are we over?"

"Lucy, pay attention!"

He looked angry, even a little frightened. "Zevran and I are at the Hanged Man. Remember that!"

I nodded, feeling afraid now. Were the darkspawn returning?

"I hate to do this, but you need to wake up now." He began to cast a spell.

I could see it was a lightning zap coming. I looked around for what he was going to zap, but there was nothing around us.

"Anders?" I whimpered.

The spell hit me and shook me hard. I screamed in pain.

"Aughhh!" I sat bolt upright in bed, still feeling like electricity was skittering through my body, even though it wasn't.

"You bastard!" I swore at Anders, angry with him, even as I was realizing that he'd contacted me in my dream. I knew why he'd done it, and my anger was completely irrational. He was trying to make sure I didn't lose anything from the dream by falling into a deeper sleep. I sat up in bed and cleared my mind, letting the dream come back to me. Darkspawn had been in it, of course, but so had… Orsino. Hm, he'd been flirting with me. Oh Maker, no. I felt my cheeks flaring into Technicolor. Oh well, what can you do? I'm sure Anders dreams about plenty of women other than me.

Snippets of the dream came back. Orsino had told him where my cell was, I think. Of course, my dream Orsino knew nothing more than I knew. I just hoped the directions were sensible and accurate.

Anders had told me something too. They were… someplace. I mused for some time, trying to let that last detail take form. The Hanged Man! It struck me suddenly, almost like Anders's bolt. I leapt out of bed and fumbled in the dark until I found the candle. There was barely enough moonlight coming in the barred window, but I did manage to get it lit. I wrote the name down immediately, using the mostly broken quill. After that I went back to bed and fell asleep, feeling just a little more upbeat about my prospects.

~o~o~o~

Anders sat up in bed, a grim smile on his face. Lucy was still alive and well enough to be dreaming about sex. He snapped his fingers and a candle flared to life. Grabbing a sheet of parchment, he wrote out what Orsino had told him. Well, really it was Lucy. He smiled at the thought of Lucy flirting with herself through Orsino. Someday he hoped he could tease her about that.

Zevran was still out. He knew it bothered the assassin when he went to the Fade to see Lucy. It was a skill he lacked. Something he couldn't compete with. It was ridiculous, the man had his own abilities that Anders couldn't match, plus he oozed a sensuality that was like catnip for women.

He undressed and got into bed properly. The lyrium trance had left him drained. Sleep came instantly.

He slept for minutes, or so it seemed, but it must have been a few hours. The sun was well up in the sky and spearing the gloom in their room through gaps in the curtains. Zevran had returned at some point and was sound asleep. Anders thought the sun had woken him until their door creaked open.

"Maker's balls," Hawke said, standing in the doorway looking at the two exhausted men. "Sorry for the break-in, but I thought you two had been murdered in your sleep. How you managed to sleep through the racket we made, I can't imagine." She strode into the room with a man trailing behind her. "There's someone you need to meet."

Anders's eyebrows rose in surprise. He got to his feet and held out his hand. "First Enchanter, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person." Lucy's Fade conjuration of the man had been very accurate.

Orsino looked surprised but held out his hand. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Ah, no. I suppose not. But do you have word of Lucy?" Anders thought a quick change in subject would prevent another awkward explanation of dream-walking.

Zevran sat up in bed looking alert.

"She was fine when I left her last night, but she needs to get out of The Gallows. Meredith is returning and I'm sure Alrik will want to cover his tracks."

"Meredith? Alrik?" Zevran got out of bed and joined them.

"Yes. Long story, but Alrik has been forcing Lucy to fight creatures and Qunari mages in a lyrium dome. He's only gotten away with it because the Knight-Commander is away. When she returns, he will certainly take steps to cover up what he has been doing."

"So, it seems the red bitch was Lucy after all," Zevran said, exchanging a look with Anders.

Hawke looked puzzled, but ignored the comment. "Can you tell us where they're keeping her?"

"Absolutely." Reaching into a sleeve of his mage's robe he pulled out a sheet of paper. He walked to the desk and spread it out revealing a map.

They went over map and Anders was grateful that Orsino came to see them. Lucy's directions had been slightly off.

"When do you plan to do it?" Orsino asked.

"Tonight," Zevran, Hawke and Anders all responded in unison.

"Good. Meredith will be back within a week. I suspect Lucy will end up dead or tranquil very soon," Orsino said. "We've had quite a few mages disappear of late. Even harrowed mages."

Hawke frowned and then turned to the Anders. "You both need to get some rest before tonight. I'll get everything ready. Several hours after sundown will be the lowest tide, Isabela tells me. Karl says that is the least dangerous time to land behind The Gallows. We'll fetch you shortly before."

Hawke and the mage left and the men went back to their beds.

"Finally," Anders said, sighing as he lay back down.

"Yes, finally. All this not knowing, not being able to do anything. I thought I was going to go mad."

There was a lengthy silence. Anders pondered what lay in store for them in the next day. If they survived and rescued Lucy, what then? They would be back to that point where this all started. Let tomorrow take care of itself. They might not even survive to see it. But no matter what happened, he'd give his life to get her out of The Gallows.

"Twitch?" Zevran's voice pulled him back from the twilight of sleep that was muddling his thoughts.

"Yeah, Antiva?"

"If we succeed tomorrow, we work this out."

Zevran's comment had no hint of a question in it. "Agreed. And if we fail?"

"If we fail, I will not be alive to concern myself."

"Neither will I. We can take it up in the Fade."

Zevran laughed quietly. "There's no escaping you, is there?"

"Afraid not," Anders said. He smiled to himself as he rolled onto his side. Zevran is all right, he thought as his eyes shut.

~o~o~o~

Notes: Thanks for beta reading, Biff McLaughlin. Sorry for the lengthy time before posting this, my love-life has sprung into existence quite unexpectedly. This chapter was about ½ way done before the last chapter, but I did end up adding quite a bit and had to iron out timeline changes.

Always appreciate reviews, but they've been getting really skimpy lately. I worry I'm losing my touch since time to write is less. So tell me what you think. Should I hang it up? ;)

Zevgirl, Biff, Aynsleasa, Lady of Embers, olivegbg: Thanks for the reviews!

Onward we plod toward our destiny!