Hi! Sorry for the delay in updating, I'm back at work now :( and so this story will only be updated maybe twice weekly from now on (any extra to that being a bonus)
Thank you so much to anyone that has taken the time to review, story-alert or favourite! :D
And to my awesome Beta Reader and friend Jen, a million thanks! You're the best! xx
O~~~~~~~~~O
Although forced to make slight alterations to their original plan, Cullen and Anders were almost ready. Word had been sent to Anders' contact at the Spoiled Princess, and an encrypted reply had been received. Anders had given a sleeping draught to Cullen, which would be poured into the vat of cocoa in the Templars' quarters, incapacitating them during the escape.
Swimming was now out of the question, as a recent drop in temperature had caused a thin layer of ice to form across the lake. Cullen had suggested he instead escort Anders from the Tower, telling Kester that he and Anders were leaving on official business, and be rowed across the lake instead.
This development, however, presented problems: Using the tunnel in the garden was now impossible as Cullen would never fit through wearing his armour, and there wouldn't be enough time for him to remove it and put it back on again. As a result, Cullen and Anders would now have to get past all of the Templars on the first floor, and open the main doors, which required the strength of 4 men.
Anders' first solution for opening the door was to employ two other mages to help. "I know Tannin would help us, and I can think of several others who are trustworthy and would give us a hand," he said to Cullen as they finalised the details of their plan.
Cullen looked doubtful. "Wouldn't they want to come with us? I don't want anyone else to see me…you know." He remembered Anders' dire warning of the withdrawal symptoms he would suffer.
"Well, they probably would want to escape," said Anders, "but we can tell them to make their own plans once we're out. You're right, though, there's no way they're coming with us."
"There's something else," said Cullen, looking concerned, "I'm not happy about the main doors being open for any length of time. However we disable the Templars at the door – and remember, we agreed not to kill anyone – they will recover, head straight through the doors, and see us being slowly rowed across the lake. And another thing – we can't disable all of the Templars and mages on the first floor. With the doors wide open, there would be a mass exodus of mages from the Tower."
"What's wrong with that?" frowned Anders, sounding a little indignant.
"Think for a moment, Anders," Cullen sighed. "First of all, with that many mages gone, the Tower would recruit extra Templars from the various Chantries in Ferelden. The Spoiled Princess would be torn apart. Even if we did get away from there, the Templar presence around Lake Calenhad and its neighbouring provinces would be massive. We'd be caught in no time.
Also, I know that I would be put to death in the event we are caught, while you would receive solitary confinement. Should it become apparent that you and I are responsible for dozens of mages fleeing the tower, however, I have no doubt that you will be branded a Maleficar by the Chantry and slain on sight."
Anders pursed his lips and folded his arms. "You're right." He paused for a few moments, occasionally looking at Cullen from the corner of his eye.
"Do you have another idea, Anders?" Asked Cullen.
"I do…but you won't like it."
"We are not going to kill anyone, Anders. I will not budge on that."
"No, of course not!" cried Anders. "I'm not a murderer!
Alright," he said nervously. "I know a little…trick."
"Trick? What do you mean by that?" asked Cullen, raising an eyebrow. Anders sighed and squirmed. "Go on," said Cullen, frowning.
"Well…I learned something not sanctioned by the Chantry."
Cullen's eyes narrowed. "Tell me."
"I can charm people."
Cullen started at that. "And just where did you learn that, Anders?"
"Look," said Anders, "do you want to get out of here or not? Does it matter where I learned it? And besides, I thought you didn't want to be a Templar any more. You can't think like that and disapprove of illegal magic at the same time. What is it you truly want, Cullen?"
Cullen ran his fingers through his hair and faced Anders directly. "Are you a blood mage?" he asked firmly.
"No! Maker, no!" cried Anders. "I…I just know this one thing. Please don't ask me how, because I won't tell you. But as Andraste is my witness, I am not a blood mage. I disapprove of blood magic as much as any Templar. For that matter, most of my mage brothers and sisters also hate the very idea of blood magic."
"But charming is a form of mind control!" exclaimed Cullen. "You must have learned it from a blood mage! Being able to charm is the first step on the road to blood magic. I want to know who taught you. Was it Jowan?"
"Cullen," said Anders firmly. "Let me say this one last time. I am not a blood mage. I am not going to tell you now, nor ever, how I know this trick. If you disapprove so strongly of something that will help us escape, then perhaps we should just abandon the entire plan. That is my final word on the matter, Cullen."
Anders had learned how to charm upon joining the Libertarians, a movement advocating a complete split between the Circle Tower and the Chantry. He had befriended Uldred, a senior mage and outspoken Libertarian, who taught Anders a few of his 'tricks'. Nevertheless, Anders had recently distanced himself from his teacher as he believed Uldred was becoming power-mad and behaving erratically.
Cullen turned away from Anders and paced back and forth. Finally, he spoke. "Look, this is hard for me. I was brought up in the Chantry and since I was a small boy, I've had it drummed into me that magic is sinful and wicked. I was taught that any form of mind control or blood magic is the worst of all. I don't want to be a Templar any more, but I can't just shake off the convictions I was raised with so easily. Blood magic is evil and I will never approve of it, Templar or not."
He relaxed his body and sighed. "For what it's worth, Anders, I don't believe you are a blood mage. Alright, we'll go with your plan. We'll charm the Templars at the main door to open it for us, then immediately close it once we're out. For how long will they stay charmed?"
Anders brightened a little. "Until somebody else realises they're charmed and dispels it. It may not be until the following morning. All we really need to do on the first floor is walk up to the main door and charm the four Templars there. The other Templars see us together all the time and probably won't suspect anything. But…if they see us walking up to the main door together…"
"I have a solution to that," said Cullen. "If anyone questions us, I could tell them I'd just discovered you trying to escape and was taking you to Gregoir. Now, the other Templars and I know that Gregoir is not usually in his office after 8pm, but sometimes he does stay for longer. Yes! I could say I was going to see if he was still there!"
Anders grinned. "So that means we don't have to worry about disabling anybody on the first floor? We won't have to fight our way out?"
Cullen nodded.
"And," said Anders, almost salivating at the thought, "If Gregoir is in his office, I get to charm that bastard as well?"
"Correct," smiled Cullen. "Although, there is one final problem."
Anders rolled his eyes. "But of course!"
"Well, as soon as you charm anyone, any nearby Templars will sense it immediately and come running."
"Ah," said Anders.
"Indeed," Cullen replied.
Anders studied the wall intently for a few moments. "I know!" he said excitedly, grabbing Cullen's shoulders, "Gavienus and Tristan owe me a favour. I'll get them to create a diversion! Have a fight in the library using magic or something, or have one of their spells go wrong! That way, the Templars would hopefully be too preoccupied with that to bother about us, or they may not even be able to sense my magic if magic is already being used in the library! What do you think? Could that work?"
The look on Cullen's face was encouraging. "Yes, that's very clever, Anders."
"Right!" said Anders, "do you foresee any other problems?"
Cullen pondered this, finally shaking his head slowly. "No, my friend. I think we're ready now."
"Right! I'm off to find Gavienus and Tristan! Don't forget the sleeping draught!" chirped Anders, as excited as a child opening gifts on Feastday.
o~~~~~~~~~o
Blythe, Allis, Alistair and Morrigan reached Lothering at midday without incident. Allis and Alistair had been ostensibly quiet and kept their distance from each other. Blythe could sense the tension between them and wondered if they'd fallen out, perhaps over a Templar/mage issue. If Morrigan could pick up on the tension, she made no sign, and Reaper was too interested in sniffing dead rodents by the roadside and chasing insects to pay any attention.
They made short work of a pathetic group of bandits who demanded money from them, claiming it was needed for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway. Alistair looted their bodies as Blythe and Allis looked through the crates the bandits had brought with them.
"These crates are full of clothing and personal effects," said Blythe to the rest of the group.
"Yes," said Alistair, taking a note from the hand of a dead Templar. "All ill-gotten, no doubt. We'll inform the Chantry. I need to visit there anyway. This note is addressed to Ser Donall. I know him. He may be able to help us."
They descended the steps into the village. Alistair took a deep breath and sighed. "There it is – Lothering. Pretty as a painting."
"So, you have finally decided to rejoin the rest of us, then?" said Morrigan snidely as all eyes turned to her. "Falling on your blade in grief was too much trouble, I take it?"
Alistair wheeled round to face her. "Is my being upset so hard to understand?" he cried angrily. "Have you never lost anyone close to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"
Morrigan scoffed. "Is that before, or after I had stopped laughing?" The other three looked at one another in disbelief.
"Right, very creepy. Forget I asked," muttered Alistair.
"Leave him alone, Morrigan," said Allis.
She folded her arms and laughed. "Oh, but how can I when he looks at me so with the eyes of a brain-dead calf?"
Blythe, sensing that an argument was about to break out, interrupted. "I think we need to work out what we're going to do. Do you have any thoughts, Alistair?"
"Oh, this ought to be good!" said Morrigan sarcastically.
"I think," said Alistair through gritted teeth, "we should consult these." He took the Grey Warden treaties out of his backpack. "We have treaties for the Circle of Magi, The Dalish Elves, and the Dwarves of Orzammar. Which should we go for first?" he asked the rest of the group.
"You're asking us?" said Blythe. "You're the senior Grey Warden here, not us. We'll follow your lead."
Alistair feigned terror. "Lead? Me? Oh, no no no no no! Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and before you know it I'm running around without any pants on!" he chuckled.
Allis couldn't help himself. "In that case, I insist you lead, Alistair." he grinned, biting his bottom lip.
Alistair stopped laughing and turned bright red. "I, um…what I think we should do, erm…" he cleared his throat. "What I think we should do," he continued, unable to look Allis in the eye, "is go to Redcliffe first, and consult Arl Eamon. He'll be able to advise us further."
Blythe looked at Alistair and Allis, carefully noting Alistair's reaction to Allis' comment. "Sounds like we have a plan, then!" she said cheerfully.
"Well, 'tis gratifying to see that one of us is capable of formulating a plan!" said Morrigan snootily, directing her words toward Alistair.
Allis moved to Alistair's side and spoke as the Templar rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm becoming pretty sick of your attitude, Morrigan. Just what is your problem?"
"My problem," she answered, "is having to travel with a half-witted Templar who blubs over people unworthy of his grief. If they had not the wit to survive…"
"Now, look here!" Alistair cried angrily, stopping as Allis grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing here Morrigan?" Allis demanded. "You obviously don't like any of us, you never smile, you never contribute in any useful way, and every word that comes out of your mouth is poison!"
"I state only the painful truth," she replied, apparently unconcerned at his anger. "'Tis more desirable to be honest, is it not?"
Allis, his hand still on Alistair's arm, glared at Morrigan. "We don't need your kind of honesty, Morrigan! I am this close to burning you to a cinder, and don't think I won't do it, either! Now, either keep your mouth shut, or fuck off!"
Morrigan, scandalised, stood with her mouth open as Allis dragged Alistair down the steps by his arm, followed by Reaper and Blythe, who raised her eyebrows at Morrigan as she passed. Allis stopped at the bottom of the steps, red-faced and breathing deeply.
"Sorry, Alistair," he said. "I'm not trying to fight your battles for you. But I've been dying to say something to her for a while, now. I'd just had enough. And sorry for grabbing your arm like that."
Alistair looked down at his arm. Allis' hand was still there, his grip looser now.
"It's alright," Alistair said softly.
Allis looked up and their eyes met for a brief moment.
"Hey!" cried Allis as Reaper crashed into him with a stick in his mouth, wanting to play.
Alistair gulped and felt himself break into a sweat as he watched Allis chase after Reaper.
o~~~~~~~~~o
Cullen sat nonchalantly in the Templar quarters, having just slipped Anders' sleeping draught into the cocoa vat. The Templars that were just coming off duty helped themselves to a mug, as had those that would relieve them before commencing their shift. He waited for a while and watched. Gradually several of them began to yawn, some retiring to their quarters, others sitting down, and a few swaying and complaining of feeling woozy.
Ser Cormac, who was known for being a drama queen and whom Cullen disliked immensely, had not yet taken his cocoa and, looking around the room, began to panic. "Cullen! Something's wrong here. Look, everyone's falling asleep!"
"Oh, yes, you're right!" frowned Cullen, feigning concern. "Look, calm down. Have a mug of cocoa. I'll fetch a couple of healers from downstairs. I'm sure it's nothing serious."
"Yes, alright, Cullen," said Ser Cormac, plunging his mug into the vat and gulping it down in one swallow. "You're probably right."
"I'll be back in a minute," Cullen lied, exiting the fourth floor and heading down to the Senior Enchanter's quarters, where far fewer Templars were on duty than on the first and second floors. The hour was late and very few mages were around; those who were quietly read in secluded corners. Cullen walked past two Templars on duty and stifled a laugh as he realised they had fallen asleep standing against a wall. Thankfully they both wore their helms.
He descended to the second floor without incident. Again, the floor was almost deserted and any sleeping Templars had either gone unnoticed or the mages simply hadn't cared enough to raise the alarm. Two Templars flanked the exit to the first floor. One was standing, leaning against the wall. The other had slid to the floor and sat on his bottom with his legs akimbo. Cullen looked around and dragged him into a side room.
O~~~~~~~~~O
Anders waited anxiously in his quarters for Cullen to arrive. He heard the unmistakable clanking of Templar armour and hoped to the Maker that one of the bastards hadn't slipped through. His head fell back and he sighed with relief as Cullen walked in, carrying a full set of Templar armour. "Put this on," he instructed. "This is Ser Trian's armour. He's roughly the same height and build as you."
Cullen assisted Anders with the convoluted task of donning the armour.
"I feel sick," shuddered Anders as he looked himself up and down. "When we get out of here, you're wearing a mage's robe. They're bloody cold, I tell you, especially when the wind gets up you."
Cullen handed him a helm, trying not to laugh as Anders slipped it on. "An apostate in Templar uniform. Whatever next?" he grinned.
They approached the entrance to the first floor and paused, both taking a deep breath.
"Ready?" asked Cullen.
The faceless helm nodded.
They walked through the apprentices' quarters on the first floor – 'the trouble floor', as the Templars called it - as something was always exploding, or somebody arguing, or some wheeze was being played on the Templars; thus the Templar presence on this floor was far greater than on the floors above.
Anders, dressed in full Templar armour and helm, nodded to Gavienus and Tristan as he and Cullen sauntered through the library. They stood and nodded back, sniggering at such a bizarre sight.
Finally Cullen and Anders reached the main lobby. They walked through the double doors and closed them. Sure enough, four Templars stood on duty, two flanking the main door and the other two pacing up and down.
Cullen shot Anders a glance and affected an angry countenance. He dragged Anders by the arm toward Gregoir's office. "Is Gregoir still in his office?" he asked one of the other Templars.
"Aye, Cullen. What do you want him for?" asked Ser Fergal.
"For this!" Cullen exclaimed angrily as he pulled the helm from Anders' head. The other Templars gasped and drew closer.
"You never learn, do you, Anders?" said Ser Baldwyn. "You're for it this time, you know!"
"No, I'm not for it," said Anders slowly, holding all four of the Templars' gazes. "Because you're not going to say a word, are you? Any of you."
"Oh, no Anders, we won't say a word, we promise," muttered Ser Baldwyn, looking utterly confounded.
Anders opened his arms wide, encircling all four of them. "Now, I think you should open this door for us, shouldn't you?" They nodded compliantly.
A huge explosion sounded from the library. The Templars looked at Anders, startled.
"You should ignore that and make the door your highest priority," commanded Anders. They nodded and began the strenuous task of opening the massive, heavy door.
Gregoir's office door flew open and the Knight-Commander ran out, stopping in horror as he noticed Anders. "What in Andraste's name is going on here?" he yelled.
"Nothing to see here, Gregoir," Anders purred, advancing toward him. "You've been working too hard. You should take a nap in your office."
"W-What are you talking about, Anders?" Gregoir replied, sounding a little unsure of himself. "What are you doing in Templar armour?"
Anders fixed Gregoir in place with his gaze. "I am a Templar, you fool! Who did you think I was?"
"I, erm…I thought you were a mage…I…yes…I see, now. A Templar. My apologies," said Gregoir contritely, looking at the floor.
"A mage? Do I look like a mage to you? You really have been overdoing things, haven't you? I think you'd better get some sleep, old man," Anders replied with feigned concern in his voice.
Gregoir's brows knitted together as he yawned. "Yes," he said quietly. "I have been overdoing things lately. I should probably take a nap."
"One more thing," Anders said, addressing Gregoir and the four Templars. "I think you had all better forget any of this ever happened. I won't say anything if you don't. Can you imagine what the Grand Cleric would do if she found out about this? You'd all be packed off to some remote Chantry in the Anderfels. If you were lucky, that is."
Gregoir nodded his head. "Yes, you're right, Anders. We won't say anything. Thank you."
"Oh, Maker! I think I've just come!" exclaimed Anders as he watched Gregoir walk back into his office and close the door. Another explosion rocked the library. The huge main door opened wide, letting in a blast of cool air.
As they exited, Anders turned to the Templars one more time. "Now, make sure you lock this door tightly once we're outside. Don't let anybody else out, not even Gregoir. Remember what I said about the Grand Cleric!" he warned.
"We will! Thank you, Anders!" cried the Templars, swiftly bolting the door as Cullen and Anders stepped outside. They allowed themselves a quick grin before advancing to the jetty.
"Why isn't anybody posted outside, Cullen?" Anders asked. "Although I'm not complaining."
"Because of Gregoir's arrogance and stupidity, that's why," he answered.
There was no sign of Kester as they approached the jetty. "He's probably asleep by now," whispered Cullen, walking up to Kester's cottage and peering through the windows. "Yes, he's in bed!" he mouthed, sotto voce as Anders leapt into the boat and grabbed an oar. Cullen joined him, and they silently made their way across Lake Calenhad.
O~~~~~~~~~~O
Many, many thanks once again to Nithu, for coming up with the 'spiked cocoa' and 'rowing across the lake' ideas after I got stuck with the escape plan! :D xx