AN: This chapter has a psuedo-non con scene. Read at your own risk- it opens up with it.
Sabia screamed as her foot caught on a loose stone, sending her to the ground, her chest aching with the impact. The man leered at her, his already ugly face twisting into a true visage of ugliness and horror. She flailed at him as his hands grabbed her wrists, his weight a deplorable presence near her. His fetid breath was stifling and hot on her face as he bent over her, grinning horribly. Behind him, Duncan was also leering, almost seeming to encourage Rendon Howe as he straddled her hips, tearing at her armor.
"You would do well to beg for your life, spitfire," he sneered. "Just like your traitorous, Warden sympathizing mother did before she died."
Sabia screamed, knowing no one could hear her. Duncan simply watched, a horrible grin twisting his face as he folded his arms over his chest, his black eyes devoid of any kindness. She bit and flailed at her attacker, all in vain as Duncan finally MOVED- only to restrain her limbs. Howe smirked.
"The Wardens always did have their own agenda, spitfire. We all knew that. This is your father's fault for letting you be conscripted," he cackled, his clammy lips pressing to her neck, a rough palm running down her bared stomach. She screamed in rage, and in frustrated fear, as no one would hear. No one would help.
"Sabia, I tried. I really tried. There was nothing I could do," said a voice. A rich baritone voice, thick with the gravel of regret. She lifted her head, tears pouring down her cheeks, and there he was, chained to one of the pillars. He strained against the chains, but was unable to move.
"Loghain! Please! Please help me!" She begged, trying to writhe away from the horrors of what Howe was doing to her. His eyes bore into her, his expression pained, and he looked away, unable to move. She cried, sobbing with enough violence to make her ribs heave.
"LOGHAIN!" She screamed.
"LOGHAIN!" Sabia screamed, waking herself as she sat up inside her tent, the blanket falling to her lap.
Outside her tent, someone paused. From the sound of their step, it was Leliana. She heard Alistair muttering to himself, and Wynne scolding him. Avariel barged into the tent, his muzzle crinkled in worry for his mistress. Sabia held her arms out to the mabari, tears still pouring down her cheeks, and Avariel practically tackled her in order to nuzzle into her arms, licking the tears off her face. She cried softly, wrapping her arms around the dog's furry neck, burying her face in his warm shoulder. The faithful hound whined and rubbed the side of his head against her shoulder, letting his mistress vent her emotions. She stopped eventually, and she pulled back to earn a kiss from Avariel. She smiled weakly and rubbed his ears before hugging him again.
"I'm a lucky woman to have the best mabari in all of Ferelden," she murmured, Avariel agreeing whole-heartedly. She pulled back and began putting on her smalls, gambeson and then her armor. She splashed some water on her face from her water skin, then strode from her tent. Leliana gave her a concerned glance, but didn't say anything. She did move to help buckle the last few straps of her armor, though, earning a smile from the Warden.
"Thank you, Leliana," she murmured, running her fingers through her disheveled curls. Leliana tilted her head, blue eyes imploring.
"If you need to talk, I am here, Sabia," she said softly, putting her hands on Sabia's shoulder comfortingly.
Sabia nodded, but her eyes were already locking with Morrigan's. If there was anyone who could help, it was the enigmatic apostate who had offered nothing but a soft touch and a handkerchief a few nights ago as she hid in the woods and sobbed. Though Wynne didn't trust her, and Alistair hated her, Morrigan was slowly becoming Sabia's closest friend within this odd little brigade they were collecting. Morrigan already knew- she gave a hint of a nod before going back to packing her things. She knew Sabia would want to talk later. She set to packing up her tent, shoving things into her pack. Her heels ached, and she found herself wishing for a horse- not for the first time. Bodan Feddic waved to her, and she was envious of his wagon and the stout pack horse he had pulling it. She waved back, sauntering over, an idea in her head. The dwarf looked at her expectantly.
"Morning, Bodan, Sandal," she said, smiling at the boy.
"ENCHANTMENT!" The boy exclaimed brightly, his eyes almost as wide as his smile. Sabia chuckled in spite of the horrible night, then turned her attention to Bodan.
"You boys have been following us for some time now," she said carefully. Bodan nodded.
"That we are. We make our rounds while you fine folk travel, but we stay close enough to provide you with supplies at the end of the night when you make camp," he replied, just as evenly, smelling a deal about to be made, and he was right. Sabia shifted her weight to a hip.
"Seeing as that's the case, can I convince you to carry the supplies we don't need immediately in your wagon? Extra tents, blankets and such. You'd be paid of course," she said. Bodan nodded, smiling.
"Of course, my Lady. We'd be happy to help, but there's no need for the payment. Having a safe place for me and the boy to sleep at night is more than enough."
Sabia cocked her head.
"Are you sure?" She asked, and Bodan nodded, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.
"Just make sure no one else is enchantin' your weapons, or m'boy here will be awful sore," he teased. Sabia laughed, and Sandal looked delighted.
"Enchantment!" He beamed, bouncing on his toes. Sabia reached out and squeezed the lad's shoulder, smiling at him.
"If you insist, Bodan. Thank you."
She turned to her companions, waving.
"Guys, load the extra supplies in the back of wagon! Ser Feddic is being most gracious and letting us keep them with him!" She called.
Alistair and Sten looked a bit relieved at this change of events, and moved to load the tents and extra supplies into the wagon. Sabia double checked the pouch on her hips, ensuring her poisons were all secured, then strapped her sword and dagger to her back, her throwing knives and extra daggers already hidden in her boots and strapped to her thighs. She shouldered her pack, and they set off, Redcliffe their destination. Morrigan strode up next to her, her staff freshly adorned with one of the antlers from the stag, bones dangling from the pronged horn, tied with strips of leather, fur wrapped about the shaft near the top. Sabia admired the handiwork before Morrigan cleared her throat.
"Are you alright? You were screaming," the mage asked quietly, her sharp yellow eyes flicking to Leliana and Alistair, who were speaking of their experiences with the Chantry. She was ignoring Sten, who was stoically silent as per usual, bringing up the rear with the war dog at his side. Avariel was looking up at Sten happily, pink tongue lolling out in a doggy smile. Thinking no one was looking, Sten offered the mabari a respectful nod, and Avariel barked once in happiness. Sabia supressed a smile, then turned her gaze back to Morrigan as she bit her lip, her eyes wide.
"I just... I wanted to thank you, Morrigan," she said quietly. Morrigan cocked her head.
"For what?" She asked, taken aback.
"For pulling me from that nightmare in the Fade... for saving me," Sabia said, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Morrigan made a soft sound of exasperation.
"You have never been in the Fade before while in a semi lucid state. You are no mage, and didn't know what to expect. Tis nothing to thank me for," she said, obviously awkward. Sabia frowned, her brow crinkling.
"It felt real to me. They were both there... and he was... and HE was, but he couldn't... ," she trailed off, her voice choking. Morrigan hesitated, but put a hand on Sabia's shoulder, her hand light on the leather armor, and her face made it clear she was obviously uncomfortable with the contact.
"The demon knew what to do to make you hurt," she said simply. "It couldn't get to me, as I am a frequent visitor to the Fade, and a most stubborn woman- a frustration to demons, tis true."
Her gaze softened slightly and she withdrew her hand.
"That does not say your mind is weak. It simply says that the happy dreams the others had would not be enough to trap you. You would not be fooled by your parents being alive. The demon had to torment you to keep you trapped, as it did with the old woman. You are too strong willed to be seduced into simple complacency- it had to shock you, to frighten you into submission," she said, turning her lupine eyes back to the road, falling silent.
Her words made Sabia think hard on the reality of her statement and she took a measure of comfort from them. It was true. Had she seen her parents, or had it simply been Loghain or Fergus there, she would have known it was a dream. She had SEEN Loghain ride away. She hadn't seen Fergus since he went to Ostagar. Her parents were gone. What better way to torment her than to have the two men she hated most violating her and hurting her while the man she admired was helpless to stop them? She'd been so horrified and paralyzed by what was happening, she couldn't register in her mind that she had seen Loghain ride away. All she could do was scream as Howe and Duncan overwhelmed her. If Morrigan hadn't come when she did... She shuddered, trying to shove the unpleasant thoughts away and stifle the sob that threatened to erupt from her throat. As though she could sense her distress, Leliana turned to look at her.
"Are you alright, Sabia?" She asked, brow furrowing. Alistair snorted.
"She had a nightmare about Teyrn Loghain. Someone didn't get enough sleep, that's for sure," he said dryly. Sabia ground her teeth audibly, jaw clenching as she narrowed her eyes and balling her fists, resisting the urge to pull him to the side of the road and trounce him.
"I dreamt about how your idol dragged me away from my dying father, conscripting me and tearing me from the arms of my mother, leaving her and my father to die at the mercy of merciless men. I dreamt how I begged Loghain to save me, but I was forced to drink darkspawn blood anyway because Duncan likes poaching heirs to teyrnirs," she said acidly. Alistair's face reddened, and his chest puffed out as he took a breath to retort, and she turned her head, pointedly ignoring him.
"Say what you want, Alistair. I will never say Duncan was a good man for what he did to me. Contrary to what HE said, I HAD options. He just took them away from me," she snapped, ending the conversation before it turned into another shouting match. Alistair glared darkly at her and turned his eyes back to the road. Sabia rolled her shoulders in annoyance and widened her eyes as she felt the heavy tome shift in her pack- she'd almost forgotten about her find in Irving's office; she'd slipped the book from the chest into her bags while the others searched for signs of the First Enchanter. She slipped her pack off her shoulders, never stopping as she pulled the book out.
"Morrigan," she said simply, pushing the tome at her. Morrigan took in a sharp breath.
"Is this...," she began, and she opened it, thumbing through the pages delicately, as though afraid the book would dissipate beneath her fingers. "It is... it's Flemeth's grimoire!"
She looked into Sabia's eyes, looking genuinely touched. Sabia offered her the smallest smile before looking back at the road, shouldering her pack again. She knew Morrigan would not want a fuss to be made over this. Morrigan gave her a genuine smile and continued looking through the pages, not needing to focus on the road.
"This is... thank you, Sabia. Who knows what I will learn from this!"
...
Sabia frowned as she saw a figure running towards them, and she called a halt. The party stopped, Leliana ceasing her pleasing song, Morrigan putting away the grimoire. A woman, disheveled and ragged, hair matted and face haggard, was running towards them with desperation. Panic was in her eyes, and Sabia reached out as the woman nearly staggered against her, catching her. She was out of breath, her chest heaving.
"Thank the Maker!" She cried. "Bandits attacked our wagon! We were just trying to escape to Redcliffe, and we were overwhelmed!"
Sabia rubbed the woman's shoulder, trying to calm her down.
"Shhh, it's okay. Is everyone alright? What can we do? Are the bandits still there?" She asked urgently.
"They left, but we need help, my family is gravely injured! Please help my husband!" The woman wailed. Wynne frowned.
"Let's make haste. I can heal the injured," she said hastily.
"Sten, can you carry the poor woman? Until we get to their wagon?" Sabia pleaded. Sten sighed in annoyance, but picked the woman up, breaking into a run as the group moved down the road. The wagon came into sight, and Sten set the woman down, looking affronted that he'd had to carry her in the first place.
"They're this way, please, hurry!" She cried.
They came upon the wagon, and Sabia felt a sense of WRONG in her gut as the woman's pace changed drastically- the woman was now sauntering instead of the desperate tread she'd had before. A figure slid from behind the wagon, and his amber eyes glittered at her. Sabia stopped. An Antivan. She knew enough about them from Oriana to know how to recognize one. With his tanned skin and the elegant, yet arrogant way he held himself, there was no doubt as to where he was from- he had the same cultured stance Oriana had when Sabia first met her so many years ago. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of her lost sister-in-law, and she pushed the thought from her mind, focusing on the situation. She narrowed her eyes, and her sharp ears picked up the sound of wood creaking. She whipped her head up to see a tree on the bank of land above them start to lean dangerously.
"Move!" She cried, the group scattering in time to avoid being smashed by the falling tree. As she rolled to her feet, she saw the elf pull out twin daggers, and the woman was conjuring lightning in her hands as men and women in leather began appearing from behind foliage and the remains of the wagon. Sabia snarled and drew her sword and dagger, sliding into a defensive stance. The elf motioned with a hand.
"Remember to keep the redhead alive! Kill the rest! They all die here!" He shouted, his voice thick with an Antivan accent. Sabia was already judging and analyzing the situation. Without a thought, orders flew from her lips.
"Leliana, the archers! Alistair, the mage! Wynne, watch for injuries!" She shouted. "Avariel, KILL! Morrigan, you know what to do! Sten, flank the melee!"
With the orders given, her party moved, clashing with the enemy. All hell broke loose.
Sabia lunged straight for the elf, stabbing his shoulder to disable his main hand. He hissed, dropping his dagger, but his off hand swung the pommel of his dagger into her ribs. With a grunt, she fell back, but she used her own backward momentum to swing her leg up and out, catching him in the stomach with her foot. The assassin grunted and doubled over, trying to swing at her before falling to his knees, his swing aimed at her lower legs for a low blow. He was trying to impede her, cripple her enough to capture her. She rolled, but the dagger still caught her left calf. Sabia let out a shriek of rage and kicked the man with her bloody leg, her good leg supporting her weight, and she delivered the kick right to his jaw. The elven man let out a cry of pain and fell, unconscious. Sabia felt a tingle rush through her wounded leg- Wynne was healing her. Renewed, she joined the fray once more.
Sten let loose a deafening shout, swinging his sword with force enough to knock two of the leather clad henchmen to their backs, and with a single well aimed blow, he slashed them open, and they did not rise again. Alistair was draining the mana of the mage, and when he was sure Morrigan wasn't in range- which she knew well enough not to be- he smote the woman, knocking her to the ground before aiming one final blow, merciful as he always was. Leliana had already landed well aimed shots on two of the archers, felling them, and was finishing off the last one, the bow singing. Morrigan had conjured a nightmare upon two of their foes, and the men were fighting each other in a haze of horror induced madness, the mage watching with her head cocked, arms folded over her chest as she laughed. Avariel lunged at one of the befuddled men, tearing at his throat as he overwhelmed him. With their foes taken care of, Sabia made sure her party was healed up before moving to the assassin she'd knocked unconscious. Alistair drew his sword, moving to kill the man, but Sabia stopped him.
"No, Alistair. Let's get information from him first," she said carefully. "Wynne, can you revive him?"
Wynne nodded and waved her hands over the man, who stirred with a groan.
"I, what... oh," he muttered, looking up at the people surrounding him. "I had preferred I would wake up dead... or not wake up at all as the case may be."
Sabia pushed him on his back with her foot to his chest, leaning over him and putting her sword to his throat. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Who hired you, assassin?" She asked dangerously. The man held up his hands in compliance.
"A rather taciturn man at the capital agreed to sending me out. Teyrn Loghain, I believe it was. Surly man, looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, permanent scowl on his face and a voice that sounded like gravel," the elf said, his eyes never moving from hers. Alistair snorted.
"That's Loghain alright," he said dryly. Sabia ignored him and shoved her sword closer, nicking elf's skin, blood trickling down the blade. The man winced a bit.
"I didn't ask who agreed to the contract, assassin," she said nastily. "Or should I say, Antivan Crow? I asked who HIRED you."
The elf cocked his head as best he could with a sword at his neck.
"You know of the Crows, then," he said simply. Sabia narrowed her eyes further.
"My deceased sister-in-law was Antivan. Of course I know of the Crows. If I flip you over and cut your armor, will I find wings tattooed on your back?" She snarled. The elf laughed.
"If you wish to strip me, my lovely spitfire, be my guest."
Sabia hissed and whipped her dagger out, gashing his arm open, earning a stifled grunt of pain.
"Don't. Call. Me. That. EVER," she hissed. Howe had called her that many times, always with a badly concealed sneer and a lewd tone that curdled her stomach contents, and usually when he spoke of her marrying one of his deplorable sons and received her barbed, but honey coated replies. The man winced again.
"My apologies, my captor," he said quietly. Sabia glared at him.
"I'm asking again. Who HIRED you?" She asked, and Alistair made a frustrated gesture.
"We KNOW already! Loghain! What else could he tell you? Loghain hired him, we kill him, we move on," he said in exasperation. Sabia ignored him, her eyes cutting into the assassin, who flicked his eyes at Alistair before looking at Sabia again.
"I hate to disappoint your adamant friend there, but Loghain merely agreed to hiring me. It was not he who contracted me from Antiva. It was a foul, oily looking man with an equally foul, oily voice," he said lightly. Sabia's eyes lit up in triumphant rage, and Alistair looked taken aback.
"I knew it. I told Howe to do better," she said, then laughed, a harsh grating derisive sound in the back of her throat. "And this is the best he could do? Really? I'll DESTROY him!"
She pulled back, looking at the assassin.
"I've learned all I need to know, Antivan," she said. He looked up at her, something whirling behind his cultured amber eyes.
"Then, might I make a proposal?" He asked. Sabia cocked her head, pausing as she moved to lick blood from a cut on her arm. The man's eyes never moved from hers, watching as blood trickled off her tongue and down her chin.
"I am Zevran, Zev to my friends, and seeing as I failed to kill you, according to the Crows, my life is forfeit. Thing is, I like living. Fond of it, really. Seeing as you bested me, and I am one of the best of the Crows, you would make the Crows hesitate to attack you again," he said. Sabia lifted a brow.
"And? What is this alluding to?" She asked dryly, licking up the last of her blood before folding her arms over her chest. Zevran tilted his head, smiling coyly.
"Surely you could have use of an experienced rogue like myself..." he said, lifting a brow. Sabia snorted.
"In case you didn't notice, Antivan," she drawled, not using his name- it made things personal. "I am all the rogue we need. I am proficient in poisons, swords and combat. You couldn't beat me, why would I have use of you?"
The man tutted, smiling.
"These things you say. They must drive your male companions wild!" He said wryly. Alistair snorted.
"Wild? No. More like nuts," he said, glancing at Sabia, who ignored him as per usual, but she noticed his anger was softened a bit. She rolled her shoulder, giving a look that told him he had better come up with something to offer before she killed him. He caught her unspoken message and his face grew serious.
"You are formidable, there is no questioning this, but you are not a rogue of stealth and shadow. I can offer that hidden finesse. I can also keep an ear to the ground and help divert any further contracted attempts from the Crows," he said. Sabia snorted derisively.
"And then when we make camp, you poison my food, or slide behind me in the shadows as I bathe, slipping a dagger between my ribs?" She snarled. "You must think I'm ROYALLY stupid. What's to stop you from trying again?"
"I think you're royally hard to kill, and utterly gorgeous," Zevran said, tilting his head. Sabia lifted a skeptical brow.
"Flirting? Truly? You would try to woo me as you lay on the ground after trying to kill me?" She asked incredulously. He made a face.
"I say so because it is true. I appreciate the beauty of any person, so I state it as such. Your archer and the enchantress you have with you are equally beautiful. Even your matronly healer is attractive in her own right," he said with a frown, sounding like he was stating something obvious she shouldn't have missed. Sabia snorted.
"An odd time to remark on someone's physical appearance, but never mind that. Say I spare your life. How loyal are you? What would stop you from trying to assassinate me again?" She inquired, shifting her weight. He cocked his head.
"You are not stupid. Nor am I. You have handled a group that was set on your capture and death. I would be a fool to try to attack you, skilled as you are, and with such impressive companions. I also happen to be quite loyal- until I am expected to die for failure, of course, but couldn't that be said of anyone?"
Sabia couldn't argue with that, and she hesitated. Sensing a break in her anger, he pressed forward.
"I could even stand around and look pretty if you want. Fend off unwanted suitors? Act as a second shadow that doubles as a bodyguard? Warm your bed?" He said slyly, smirking. Sabia ground her heel into his chest a bit, scowling.
"I need no man to protect my honor, Crow. If there were ever unwanted suitors, they are no more, and I certainly do NOT need any bed warming," she growled between bared teeth. Zevran chuckled.
"You remind me of a dragoness. Beautiful, but ever so deadly," he said off-handedly, but then grew serious again. "I truly do not wish to die, and this would be a chance to have a life doing something else besides killing. This life is all I have ever known, and I would gladly be free of it by pledging my loyalty to you. I'll even polish armor if it comes down to it- I did used to live near a tannery, and I know a thing or two about leather."
Sabia lifted a brow at the compliment, but she softened a bit at his comment- if only slightly. She removed her foot from his chest and helped him up- but not before taking his daggers. He blinked.
"So are you to kill me then?" He asked. Sabia narrowed her eyes a bit.
"Where you to report back to Loghain?" She asked. He shook his head.
"I would have gone back to Antiva, had I succeeded, and Loghain would have been informed- or rather, Howe would have been informed of my success. I assume you threaten their power. Politics, yes?"
Sabia rolled her shoulder again.
"You could say that. Did Loghain say he wanted us dead?" She asked. Alistair rolled his eyes.
"Of course he did. Why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to, Sabia?" He complained. Zevran snorted.
"Again, your hastily angry friend is incorrect. I was told to keep the dragoness here alive, and bring her directly to Loghain. Howe tried to convince me to kill her after being briefed by the Teyrn, but I was thinking it would not be wise to anger this Loghain. I was going to bring you to him, unharmed. He was QUITE persistent in making sure I understood to bring you back alive- and untouched. Shame, really," he said, smiling. Sabia cuffed him.
"Enough comments on my body, assassin. Do you speak the truth? Did Loghain really demand I be taken alive?" He nodded.
"He was VERY angry when I asked if you were beautiful. His words were, if I recall correctly, 'She is important. Kill her, or lay a finger on her and you will beg for death,'" he said, rubbing his head where she cuffed him. Sabia couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face.
"Good enough, then," she said. Everyone blinked.
"Wait, what's happening here?" Alistair asked. Sabia turned to look at him.
"He's coming with us," she declared, handing the man his weapons back. Zevran sheathed the daggers and held out his hand. Sabia took it and he shook it firmly, clasping his other hand over hers.
"I then swear an oath of loyalty to you. I am your man without reserve until you see it fit to release me, this I swear," he said honestly, his eyes looking at Sabia sincerely. Sabia nodded.
"Welcome to our group, then, Zevran. I am glad to have more support," she said evenly. Alistair and Morrigan boggled at her.
"I strongly recommend checking your food and keeping your water skins close at hand from now on," she said dryly, narrowing her eyes. Zevran laughed.
"God advice for anyone!" He chortled. Alistair scowled darkly.
"Are you sure this is a good idea? Taking the assassin with us?" He asked in disbelief. Sabia cocked her head.
"And what, you think it a better idea to let him go?" She asked, earning another scowl.
"We could just, I don't know, KILL HIM," came the curt reply. Sabia snorted.
"I'd prefer to use Howe's assassin to help us. We need allies, and I will take what help is offered. Besides, having a Crow on our side will make Howe think twice about trying to come after us again," she said tersely, but her expression was neutral. Alistair sighed and threw up his hands.
"Fine, I see your point. Doesn't mean I'll trust him, though."
Leliana nodded, looking like she approved, and Sten simply grunted, apparently apathetic to the whole thing. Wynne cocked her head.
"It is good to keep foes where you can see them, and I am pleased you were merciful," she said.
Sabia said nothing, but mentally rolled her eyes at Wynne's comment, not in the mood for her righteousness. She rolled her shoulders and picked up her discarded pack, then cast her eyes to her group and cocked her head.
"Well? Shall we get going then?" She asked.
Everyone picked up their packs and began following her down the road. Leliana pulled a small lute from her pack and began singing softly, Morrigan went back to reading her tome, and Wynne pulled out- much to Sabia's bemused amazement- knitting needles and yarn. She shook her head as the mage knitted efficiently as they made their way down the road. She was collecting quite the odd group, but they each had their strengths. Hopefully it would be enough to face Howe, pull Loghain out of this civil war that was brewing, and then rally the people of Ferelden to fight the Darkspawn. Surely this group could put aside differences and work together to be an example to Ferelden.
"So... I was not aware we had such a beautiful bard in the group. Such a lovely songbird. Do you sing in the sheets as well?" Came Zevran's purring voice.
The sound of a smack rang through the air, and Zevran fell quiet. Everyone turned to see Zevran with a red mark on his cheek, and Leliana looking affronted. Sabia laughed and turned her attention back to the road, her spirits rising. Maybe they COULD do this.
After all, they were sorting differences out already.