Thank you so much to Jen, Shakespira, Nithu, voltagelisa, Eva Galana, arysani and Yvanna for your wonderful reviews, and to everyone else following the story!

And a special thank you to Jen for another first-class editing job! :-*

o~~~~~~~~~o

Senior Enchanter Irving let himself into Knight-Commander Gregoir's office after his third knock at the door had gone unanswered. He found Gregoir slumped over his desk, snoring loudly. Irving cleared his throat and took a deep breath, trying his best to hide the amusement on his face.

"Gregoir!" he shouted.

Gregoir murmured a little, then resumed snoring. Irving moved around the desk and shook him roughly by the shoulders. "Gregoir! Will you wake up!" he shouted again.

Gregoir stirred and groaned as he sat up. He looked up at Irving and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the candlelight. "Irving? What are you doing here? What time is it?" he asked, confused.

Irving folded his arms and tried his best to look serious. "The hour is very late, Gregoir," he answered. "I was dragged from bed by the only seemingly conscious Templar in this tower. Are you aware that most of your men lie sleeping in the corridors?"

"What?" cried Gregoir sharply, standing up and holding his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. "What is going on…?"

Irving's mouth twisted as he swallowed down a grin. "It appears, Gregoir, that whatever has happened has also affected you in some way. I have some of my healers working on your Templars now. They all appear to be intoxicated."

"What?" said Gregoir again. "With what? Spirits? Poison? Be specific, Irving!" he spat.

"It is difficult to determine the agent employed," said Irving slowly, secretly revelling in Gregoir's discomfort. "But we believe that the Templar's evening drink of cocoa may have been tampered with deliberately."

Acting instinctively, Gregoir charged past Irving and approached the four Templars on duty next to the main door, all of whom were still awake. "Make a sweep of the Tower!" he commanded. "I want Anders and Tannin found and brought before me immediately! Irving and I will remain here to guard the door!"

"Yes, Ser!" they cried in unison and departed, apparently having no memory of the previous evening's events.

"So, you suspect one of the two youngsters of escaping again?" asked Irving, noticing that Gregoir looked very confused and kept rubbing his forehead.

"What did you say?" asked Gregoir. Irving stepped closer to him and reached out to touch his face. Gregoir flinched.

"Will you stand still, Gregoir!" said Irving impatiently as he placed his hands on Gregoir's face and concentrated for a moment. "As I suspected," the elderly mage sighed, no longer amused. "You have been charmed, Gregoir."

"Charmed? That is impossible!" exclaimed Gregoir angrily. "I would have remembered!"

"I fear it is true, Gregoir," replied Irving, shaking his head. "Allow me to dispel its effects." Irving knew that using a spell on a Templar without first asking could be perilous.

"Very well, Irving," said Gregoir gruffly. Irving, keeping his hands on Gregoir's face, closed his eyes as a surge of blue light left his hands and travelled down Gregoir's body.

Irving stepped back and spoke. "Now, think carefully, Gregoir. Do you remember anything untoward happening? What is the last thing you recall?"

Gregoir narrowed his eyes in concentration. "There was an explosion…I came out here." He shook his head and sighed. "It is hazy. I do not remember what happened next…" Gregoir's face fell and he slowly raised his head to meet Irving's gaze. "Anders…?" he murmured, unsure of himself.

Sudden rage flashed in Gregoir's eyes as his memory started to return. "Anders…in a Templar uniform? Yes, I remember that! A Templar uniform of all things!" he seethed, a vein bulging on his forehead.

"Calm yourself, Gregoir," said Irving soothingly. "The lad cannot have gone far. It is a bitterly cold night and he must have taken refuge nearby."

"Calm myself?" spat Gregoir. "If you had agreed to make him tranquil like I recommended after his last escape, we would not be in this situation! Makers' Blood, he has acquired the power to charm people! So now we have two Maleficars on the loose! And all because of your bumbling, Irving!"

Two of the Templars previously sent to sweep the Tower returned, with a bleary-eyed Tannin in tow. "Ah, Tannin, child," said Irving. "We appear to have misplaced one of our people. We wondered if you could shed any light on the matter?"

"Misplaced one of our people?" laughed Tannin. "What, Anders has done it again, has he?"

"What do you know of this?" barked Gregoir.

"Nothing," replied Tannin impertinently, folding his arms. "Good on him, I say. And even if I did know anything, do you really think I would tell you? If so, you're far more stupid than you look." The apprentices in the Tower had little respect for the Templars, and even less for Gregoir.

"How dare you!" began Gregoir, before being interrupted by Irving.

"Very well, child. We shall speak more of this in the morning. Now, return to bed."

"I want an apology first, from him," Tannin replied, looking at Gregoir.

"You shall have no such thing!" cried Gregoir, his face turning red. "Now return to your dormitory at once!"

Tannin shrugged his shoulders, and walked away laughing.

"You are far too soft on your apprentices, Irving! This is intolerable!" cried Gregoir as he paced back and forth.

"Ser…" said one of the Templars nervously.

"What is it?" snapped Irving.

"Well, Ser, you were right about Anders being missing, but there is someone else unaccounted for," replied Ser Fergal.

"Who? Spit it out!" growled Gregoir. "Is it one of the apprentices?"

"No, Ser," replied Ser Fergal. "It's Ser Cullen. We can't find him anywhere."

"Cullen?" said Gregoir, his voice quieter. "Yes…I remember him being here. You were here, Ser Fergal. Can you tell me what happened?"

Ser Fergal looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, Knight-Commander. I don't remember Ser Cullen being here, nor Anders for that matter."

"Remove your helm, child," sighed Irving. Fergal did as requested and Irving put his hands to the young Templar's face, shaking his head. "This lad has also been charmed, Gregoir; as, I suspect, were the others guarding the main door."

"Dispel him," commanded Gregoir.

After locating the other three Templars and reversing the effects of the Charm spell, Irving and Gregoir finally began reconstructing the night's events.

"So," said Gregoir, after search parties were sent to scour Lake Calenhad, The Spoiled Princess, Redcliffe and Anders' hometown of Honnleath, "Anders drugged the Templars' cocoa, stole a uniform, and charmed the Templars into opening the main door. It appears that young Cullen was also charmed, and abducted by Anders to aid his escape."

"Abducted?" asked Irving sceptically. "Do you really think that likely, Gregoir? How was the cocoa contaminated? Anders had no access to the fourth floor."

"He must have charmed one of the Templars above to let him in," said Gregoir, realising that Irving had a point, but refusing to admit it.

Irving shook his head. "So, Gregoir. Anders charmed a Templar into letting him onto a floor full of other Templars with the ability to sense magic, and they all stood idle as Anders slipped something into their cocoa? I think not."

"I admit it would be difficult," said Gregoir, "But to suggest that Cullen would be complicit in such a scheme…"

Irving interrupted. "Do not let your pride cloud rational thought, Gregoir. Anders must have had an accomplice. Yes, perhaps he did charm Cullen to drug the cocoa and to bring him a uniform. But what purpose would a charmed Templar serve after Anders had made his escape? He would only prove a hindrance, which suggests that Cullen went of his own volition.

And," Irving said with a cunning look in his eye, "we all observed the look that passed between Cullen and Amell when she departed the Tower. It only confirmed our suspicions that they were romantically involved. Think, Gregoir. You, yourself have noticed a change in Cullen's behaviour recently. He has been impertinent and defiant toward you - not his usual manner at all."

"You have a point, Irving," admitted Gregoir reluctantly, "but there is one thing you have not considered. Cullen would be unable to obtain Templar lyrium from outside the Tower. There is no way he would leave willingly. Anders must have taken him from the Tower against his will.

Anders has gone too far this time. He has knowledge of forbidden magic, and he has abducted one of my Templars. I have instructed my men to slay the Maleficar on sight."

o~~~~~~~~~o

Anders and Cullen made it safely to the northern shore of Lake Calenhad. There they were met by the Mages' Collective operative, who introduced himself to Cullen as Davlamin. The three men quickly knocked holes in the bottom of the boat, loaded it with sandbags, and watched it sink. Davlamin ushered them to a thicket of trees, where he uncovered a cunningly hidden trapdoor, and beckoned them to follow him below.

Once inside, Davlamin unlocked a small door. After stooping to move down a crude, but soundly-made tunnel, the men reached a second locked door. Behind it lay a small room, lit only with torches. Two bedrolls lay on the floor, and several crates were stacked against a wall.

"Those crates contain clothing, light armour and helms, and plenty of dried rations. You'll also find some potion-making ingredients, Anders," said Davlamin. "I'll bring you both fresh water each day, for washing and drinking. You can perform your ablutions beneath the trapdoor. I've left a bucket there for you to relieve yourselves."

"You've outdone yourself, Dav," said Anders, shaking his hand. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You can repay me when you have the means, Anders, as do all the other mages I assist," replied Dav, winking.

Anders turned to Cullen. "Get yourself settled in, Cullen. This will be our home for the next week or so. I'm going to have a chat with Dav."

"Alright," said Cullen, walking over to have a look in the crates.

Anders and Davlamin went back down the tunnel and stood beneath the trapdoor. "Listen," asked Anders, "will anyone be able to hear us down here? I'm anticipating some…shouting."

"Shouting? What do you mean?" asked Davlamin.

"Look…" said Anders sheepishly. "I didn't tell you everything in the letter. If I had, you might not have helped us. Cullen is a Templar."

"He's a what?" shouted Davlamin, before lowering his voice. "Well, what in the name of Mafaerath's balls is he doing here?"

"He helped me escape," whispered Anders. "He's a sympathiser. He's only been a full Templar for a few months, and has hated every second of it. And one day, if the Maker smiles on us, he will be a hero to mages. He knows something that could destroy the Chantry's hold over us."

"What?" questioned Davlamin excitedly.

Anders shook his head. "Sorry, friend. I can't risk anyone else knowing at this point. But when it's revealed, the ramifications to the Chantry will be devastating."

"Well then," grinned Davlamin, "we'd better make our Templar friend at home."

"He is my friend," said Anders. "And I'm going to help him through his lyrium withdrawal. Which is why I anticipate shouting or…well, who knows what else."

Davlamin raised his eyebrows and sighed. "I don't envy you, Anders. But, no, don't worry. Nobody will hear you. Your room is next to the cellar of the Spoiled Princess, and its walls have been reinforced to prevent theft."

"Thanks, Dav. I really do appreciate your help," said Anders, shaking his hand again. "Any thoughts on where we should go when we leave here? I can't go to Redcliffe again, they're always waiting for me there, and I can't go to Honnleath yet. That's the first place they'd look for me."

"Well," replied Davlamin, thinking carefully. "I would have suggested you head south this time, but if you do, avoid the vicinity of Ostagar. The place is overrun with darkspawn after their victory over the Wardens."

"Wardens?" asked Anders, thinking of Blythe. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you wouldn't have heard," replied Dav. "There was a battle at Ostagar. Every Grey Warden in Ferelden was there. The darkspawn annihilated them. The Grey Wardens are no more."

Anders stared at Davlamin with his mouth wide open. "Yes," Davlamin continued. It's a real shame. Now there is nothing to stop the darkspawn, so be careful out there when you leave."

Anders, too dumbstruck to speak, nodded slowly and turned to head back to Cullen.

"You could try Lothering," suggested Davlamin. "I helped another one of your lot last week. That's where he was heading."

Anders span round with anger in his eyes, already knowing the answer to his question. "Who?"

"Jowan," replied Davlamin.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Blythe, Alistair and Allis were saddened by what they found in Lothering. Several families, lone people and children were taking refuge here, having been driven from their homes by the darkspawn. The three Wardens knew that sadly, with its proximity to Ostagar, Lothering too would fall before long.

Alistair visited the Chantry to see Ser Donall. Morrigan went off for a walk by herself. Blythe, Allis and Reaper decided the best place to hear news was at the local tavern and headed there.

As soon as they entered, they were accosted by two soldiers. One of the men took out a piece of paper and showed it to his partner, who nodded. "Well," said one of the soldiers. "We've been circulating this likeness of you Wardens all day, and not one person has seen any of you! Don't you think that's odd? Now, where's the third Warden?"

Blythe and Allis took out their staves. Several patrons backed away from them. "Who are you?" demanded Allis. "What do you want?"

"Never mind who we are, knife-ears," replied the other soldier. "We have orders to arrest any Grey Wardens we come across for the murder of King Cailan."

"The what?" replied Blythe and Allis, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"You lot abandoned him, you did," said the soldier, unsheathing his sword, "You're responsible for his death. Teyrn Loghain says we're to capture you – by any means necessary!"

"I suggest you all leave before you get hurt!" shouted Blythe to the tavern's patrons, who, not needing to be told twice, surged toward the doors.

o~~~~~~~~~o

Alistair trudged out of the Chantry, troubled by his conversation with Ser Donall. He'd discovered that Arl Eamon, the man who had raised him, was gravely ill, and the only hope for a cure seemed to be some far-fetched scheme to recover Andraste's ashes. He shook his head sadly and looked into the distance.

As he looked up, he noticed several screaming people running out of the local tavern, apparently from a fire within. His skin tingled as he sensed the use of magic, and ran over, barging through the tavern's doors.

Inside, two soldiers lay on the ground, begging for their lives as Reaper snarled at them and Allis taunted them, prodding them with his staff. Several pieces of furniture and fixtures in the surrounding area lay scorched and smoking. Blythe spoke to a red-headed Chantry sister, who appeared to be pleading with her.

Allis, seeing Alistair walk in, spoke. "These are Loghain's men, Alistair. They were sent here to arrest us." Alistair approached the soldiers, drawing his sword, seeing nothing but Duncan's face in his mind's eye.

"But they have surrendered!" beseeched the red-headed girl in a heavy Orlesian accent. "And I do not wish death upon anyone."

Allis placed his hand on Alistair's chest to stop him. "Put your sword away, Alistair. We don't want to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already have, do we?"

"Please!" begged one of the soldiers. "Let us go! We won't trouble you no more! We'd be stupid to!"

Alistair and Allis' eyes met. "Please," whispered Allis.

Alistair held his gaze and nodded, sheathing his sword with a sigh.

"Take a message to Loghain.," commanded Allis, who was emerging as the party's unofficial leader. "Tell him we know what he's done, and we're coming for him."

"Y-Yes, Ser! We will! Thank you!" cried one of the soldiers as they got to their feet and exited the tavern at speed.

The three Wardens and Reaper left the tavern, along with Leliana, the red-headed Chantry sister. Upon discovering they were Grey Wardens, she had asked to accompany them. Noting her skill with a bow during the fight, the Wardens decided they could use her help, and readily accepted her offer of assistance.

A Templar in the Chantry had told Alistair about a group of bandits that were scattered in and around Lothering, causing problems for the refugees.) Alistair suggested they seek them out, adding that it would be a good way to earn some money, which they desperately needed.

The others agreed, briefly looking around for Morrigan. When they couldn't find her, they began looking around town, completely unaware that they were being followed.

Since their arrival in town, a hooded figure had watched them, keeping to the shadows to remain out of sight. As they began their search for the bandits, the stranger resumed his pursuit, maintaining a safe distance from the adventurers, lest he be discovered.

o~~~~~~~~o

Cullen woke with a start in the middle of the night. He was drenched in sweat and his hands shook. He felt a gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach, which he knew only one thing would assuage. Remembering Anders advice, he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply.

Anders watched him from the other side of the room through half-closed eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep properly after the tidings of the Warden's deaths. Although he desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, he had decided to keep the news from Cullen for now. Anders believed the man would have enough to contend with over the coming days, without adding the pain of Blythe's death.

Cullen stood up and walked to the door. It was locked. He remembered that the key was on a string around Anders' neck. He glanced at Anders, then walked over and crouched down beside him.

"Something I can do for you Cullen?" asked Anders.

"Maker's breath! You made me jump!" cried Cullen. "I just wanted the key. I didn't want to wake you. I need some fresh air."

"Fresh air?" asked Anders incredulously, sitting up. "Cullen – Lake Calenhad will be seething with Templars right about now!"

"I know," said Cullen, breathing heavily and clutching at his throat. "But I feel like I'm suffocating in here!"

"Take deep breaths," said Anders. "Go on – deep breath in, release it slowly. And again. Maker, Cullen, you're sweating buckets."

Anders reached over and touched Cullen's shoulder, meaning to cool him down with a little frost, but nothing happened. "Cullen…did you just dispel me?"

"Sorry, Anders!" laughed Cullen sheepishly. "It's instinct. Try again."

Anders smiled and sighed, concentrating for a moment. Cullen's body glowed white for a moment. "Any good?" asked Anders.

Cullen shivered. "A little too good, Anders, but thank you very much," he laughed.

"Now lie down," Anders said. I'll put you to sleep for a while."

"How about you, Anders?" asked Cullen as he lay down. You appear to be having trouble dropping off yourself."

"I'm alright," Anders replied. "Just going over where we'll be headed when we leave here. I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"Alright. Goodnight Anders," said Cullen as Anders laid his hand over him and a pale yellow glow appeared around the Templar.

"Goodnight, Cullen," replied Anders and returned to his bedroll. He lay there and swallowed back tears as he thought of his friend Blythe…and then of having to give the news to Cullen. His head pounded and a hot, urgent sensation throbbed in his chest as he pictured Jowan.

If it weren't for him, Blythe would still be alive, he thought bitterly. Lothering…yes, that's where we'll go.