XII: An Old Friend

Logan looked down at the Guerrin signet ring in his hand and felt pressure rising by the seconds. He clenched his fist and headed for the door to the mill and pushed it open. The inside of the mill looked as though it had been untouched for a long time—the last few streaks of sunlight that managed to stream into the inside of the mill only revealed how much dust there was inside the structure—as Logan began to search for the passageway that Bann Teagan had spoken of. He kicked aside some hay that was oddly placed in a corner of the mill and felt his heart skip a beat in surprise as he found himself looking at his entrance into the castle.

He knelt down and locked the signet ring into the trapdoor and found that the small object complemented the hole positioned just below the handle of the door. Something clicked and Logan immediately pulled the trapdoor open using the dusty handle and found himself staring into darkness. He stood up and slipped the signet ring into his pocket and left the mill to regroup with his allies.

"Well?" Alistair cocked his head to one side and looked at Logan expectantly, "Do we have a way in?"

"Yes, the signet ring worked," Logan said, looking from one companion to another, "I can't possibly take all of you in with me, so some of you will have to follow Ser Perth and his men to the castle entrance to wait for me. Alistair," he turned to the male swordsman and nodded, "Garrett, Morrigan, Sten—with me."

Logan glanced at the remaining people that were not following him first into the castle. "Leliana," he called, looking at the former lay sister, "I'm leaving you in charge. Follow Ser Perth and make sure you're at the gates when I open them."

"You can trust me," Leliana said, and gestured for Bethany and the twins to follow her in the direction that Ser Perth had traveled.

Logan turned back to the ones left with him. "Let's go."

They returned to the inside of the mill and approached the dark passageway through the opening. Alistair was staring intensely at the dark as though he was trying to look into the passage without the help of any light source. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered, as Morrigan, Garrett and Logan stepped forward to lead to way, with bright flames dancing in their palms.

"You seem to feel this way often," Sten grunted as he trailed after the Warden and witch. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were the newest recruit here."

"At least I have feelings," Alistair uttered under his breath as he descended into the darkness, with only Logan, Garrett and Morrigan as his only means of navigating the dark.

Footsteps echoed the seemingly empty passageway as they advanced cautiously. Logan forced himself to take one step further than Morrigan out of an odd sense of protectiveness. Though his breath was regulated and shallow, Logan could feel himself shaking slightly as fear ebbed inside him like the flame on his palm—the only difference was that this flame was growing slowly as it ate at his mental defenses—as he kept moving forward, appearing as though he was taking a leisurely stroll.

As they neared the end of the unlit passageway, something shrieked from behind them. Alistair let out a yelp as he turned around, his sword and shield at the ready. Logan rushed to Alistair's side and illuminated the path that they had just trod only to find nothing there.

"Maker's breath," Alistair breathed, "I swore I heard something."

"I heard it too," Logan reassured his friend, "Something's down here."

"Something of the Fade," Morrigan added for good measure, her eyes and ears alert for any sudden movement or noise, "We must move quickly—something wishes to ambush us."

"Great, a party," Garrett groaned, and began to walk ahead in their original direction. "What else can possibly happen now?"

At that moment, something brushed past Logan and tackled Alistair to the ground, and he seemed to be engulfed in a certain darkness that even fire cannot chase away. Immediately, Sten plunged his greatsword into the shadow—Logan wondered if the Qunari even cared whether Alistair would get injured in the process—and the darkness dissipated as a shriek echoed all around them, leaving a very mortified Alistair on the cold, hard ground.

Before Logan could even offer a hand to pull Alistair up, another unseen creature collided into Logan and threw him off his feet and flung him a few feet back from the main party. His vision blurred almost immediately as Logan landed painfully on the ground headfirst and, through half-lidded eyes, saw Morrigan rushing towards him and for a split second, swore he saw the creature's face as her flame brushed past it.

"Logan—"

"Morrigan, behind you!" The moment the witch heard Logan's warning, she ducked—but it was too late: the creature had caught her in its arms as it shrieked again. Several more shrill cries followed it as Sten turned around in the opposite direction and stood back-to-back with Alistair as Garrett helped to light up their surroundings.

Maker help me, Logan thought as he leaped to his feet and stabbed his staff at the opening next to Morrigan's face and found that his weapon had made contact. Immediately, he channeled his power and unleashed electricity through his fingertips that laced his own staff and electrocuted the monster that had held Morrigan hostage. The lightning lit up the entire passageway long enough for Sten and Alistair to spot the incoming demons and cut them down quickly. Garrett unleashed the best ice spells he could manage and froze the creatures long enough for the fighters to smash them into bits. Eventually, the shrieks died down and they were finally left alone again—for the moment.

"Shades," Morrigan whispered, referring to one of the lesser demons of the Fade, as Logan helped her up. "Blast it…" He noticed that she was shaking and immediately realized with regret that he had, while attacking the Shade, harmed Morrigan as well. As if on instinct, he pulled her close and felt a few mild jolts shock him as he tried to heal her.

"I'm sorry," Logan said softly, as he felt Morrigan's body relax again.

"You did what you must," Morrigan told him, her usually spiteful tone nowhere to be found.

"This is why I hate blood mages," Alistair exclaimed loudly in frustration, moving over to Logan's side. "We should move quickly. I think we're in the dungeons. I was in here once, you know—I can't remember whether I was locked in by Isolde or by myself. I don't know which story I'd prefer, too."

"I'm willing to believe it was the latter," Garrett chuckled. Alistair rolled his eyes, thankful that no one could see his reddened face in the dark.

"Hello?"

Logan glanced up rapidly, finding the voice familiar. Too familiar. He released his hold on Morrigan and sprinted in the direction where the voice had come from, turned a corner and found himself at the end of the castle dungeons where he could finally see without the need to use his magic. Sten, Garrett, Alistair and Morrigan followed hurriedly behind him and emerged from the darkness as the former templar was yelling for Logan to stop.

"Have you ever considered that whatever's calling out to us might be a—"

"Is—is anyone there?" the voice called again, this time more frightened and worried. Logan walked up to the last cell at the end of the corridor and, with bated breath, peered into the holding cell. He didn't know whether to feel surprised or indifferent as he looked at the mage—who was looking back at him with a sort of terror in his eyes—locked in the cell, and leaned in closer, scrutinizing the man.

"Logan? Garrett?" the man murmured, "What are you doing here? Maker's breath, I never thought I'd see you two again, of all people—"

Automatically, Logan gripped the bars of the holding cell and shook it roughly, causing it to rattle violently, shocking Jowan. "What am I doing here?" he repeated harshly, "What are you doing here? Don't tell me you're the one responsible for all of this, Jowan! Maker help me—"

"No, please don't kill me!" Jowan cowered back into the deeper reaches of the cell, well out of Logan's reach, as flames were reignited in the Warden's hand. "Please! I—I can explain, Logan!"

"About what?" hissed Logan, glaring pointedly at Jowan, "About your blood magic? Or about what you did to the Arl and his family? You lied to me, you sick bastard—"

"You bloody moron—" Garrett started angrily as he made for the cell as well.

Alistair stepped forward and gripped Logan and Garrett's shoulders tightly. Logan glanced at his fellow Warden, who shook his head seriously. Not now, was the unspoken message. Not while he is the only key to the Arl. Reluctantly, Logan stepped backwards and clenched his fist, extinguishing the magical flame, but kept his eyes on Jowan. Garrett followed suit, but not before hitting the bars one last time with his fist. Jowan jumped and rushed forward again, as though he was trying to get a hold of Garrett or Logan.

"I can—"

"You must be the mage Lady Isolde mentioned," Alistair interrupted him, his expression equally as dark as Logan's.

Jowan's hung his head guiltily. "You've spoken with her," he said, "Then… you know I… poisoned Arl Eamon. For all I know, he's already dead." The blood mage sighed and buried his face in his hands. Logan desperately wanted to rip the man's face off and tell him that there was no more room for regret—

"He's not dead—at least not yet," Alistair said firmly.

"He's not?" Jowan looked up at Alistair, and then glanced at Logan, "That's a relief, I can't tell you how much," He looked remorseful as he made eye contact with his old friend, "Please, I know how it seems. Poisoning the Arl was a terrible thing—but I'm not entirely responsible for everything that's happening around here, I swear—"

Logan scowled. "You're a blood—"

"Before you say anything else, I need to ask you a question," Jowan sighed, his expression pleading and desperate, "You can do whatever you feel you need to afterward, but I need to know—what became of Lily? They didn't hurt her, did they? The thought that she might have paid for my crime…" The blood mage held onto the bars and looked at Garrett and Logan hopefully.

"The chantry might have sent her away," Logan said, "I don't know where. All I know is that Irving did try to defend her but don't expect the chantry to listen to even the First Enchanter."

Jowan face contorted with grief and sorrow. "Oh, my poor Lily," he whispered, "She must hate me now, if she even lives. What have I done?"

Logan made no movement to go over and comfort his friend. There was no room for forgiveness between the both of them. Logan seethed silently as he watched sadness and remorse envelope Jowan, because he knew that the man did not deserve a second chance at anything anymore—not after what he did to Lily, his cousins and Logan himself—and looked away, an overwhelming feeling of disgust consuming him.

"So…" Jowan started quietly, "Here we are again, the three of us. What happens now?"

I'll kill you, that's what happens, Logan thought.

"We should just kill you right now, in this stinky cell of yours," Garrett growled. "But, unfortunately, we're all more interested in how you ended up in here, in the middle of this damn mess."

"I know it looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle," Jowan quickly explained, "I was already imprisoned when all of that began. At first, Lady Isolde came here with her men demanding that I reverse what I'd done. I thought she meant my poisoning of the Arl. That's the first I heard of the walking corpses and creatures. She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe. She…" Jowan hung his head again, almost as though he was in shame, "…had me tortured. There was nothing I could do or say that would appease her, so they… left me to rot."

"Why did you poison the Arl?" Alistair asked.

Jowan looked away from all of them now. "I was ordered to do so by Teryn Loghain," he told them, "I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him Loghain would settle matters with the Circle. All I wanted was to be able to return—but he abandoned me here, didn't he? Everything's fallen apart—I never thought it would end like this! Maker, I've made so many mistakes… disappointed so many people…"

"Damn right you did," Garrett snarled, "They should have just stuck a sword through you!"

"I wish I could go back and fix it," Jowan countered, "I really do! I just want everything right again!"

"You're a blood mage, Jowan, how can you make things right?" Logan questioned him angrily.

"I don't know," Jowan admitted, "I dabbled because it seemed the only way Lily and I could escape, the only way I could avoid being made tranquil. I swear, if I knew what would happen, I'd never have started down this path… I'd never have listened to Loghain."

"You always were a moron, but I never thought you'd be such a huge one," Garrett said dryly, "Loghain! The man who betrayed King Cailan and the Wardens to their deaths! Are you just stupid or do you have a death wish?"

Alistair shook his head. "Enough," he said, turning to Garrett with a stern look on his face, before turning back to Jowan, "So Loghain hired you to poison the Arl. How did you manage to become one of the staff here?"

"Connor had started to show… signs," Jowan explained, "Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle of Magi would take him away for training."

"Connor, a mage?" Alistair said in disbelief, "I can't believe it!"

"She sought an apostate, a mage outside the Circle," Jowan went on, "to teach her son in secret so he could learn to hide his talent. Her husband had no idea."

"Arl Eamon had no idea of his son's abilities?" Morrigan quipped, frowning at the trapped mage in the cell.

"No, she was adamant that he never find out. She said that he'd do the right thing, even if it meant losing their own son," Jowan said, "And that infuriated her."

"Perhaps her son was responsible for what happened," Logan suggested suddenly, something clicking at the back of his mind. The way Lady Isolde had been so secretive about something had hinted that there was something much more complex about this entire situation. If it had been another mage—Jowan, in this case—she would have simply asked Teagan to storm the castle with his troops.

"I thought that too," Jowan agreed, "Connor has little knowledge of magic, but he may have done something to tear open the Veil. With the Veil to the Fade torn, spirits and demons could infiltrate the castle. Powerful ones could kill and create those walking corpses."

Logan cringed as he heard Jowan's words. It took him back to his own Harrowing, where he faced two demons—a rage demon and a pride demon. Personally, he thought the latter was a more sinister foe, seeing as how it had nearly tricked him into letting it enter his body so it could leave the Fade. After waking up from his Harrowing, Logan swore to never trust a demon again—he didn't even want to go so far as to find out what would happen if he had decided to ally himself with a demon with dubious intentions.

"I see," Logan said quietly, "I think I understand."

"The Arl's a decent man," Jowan continued, "I wondered how he could possibly be the threat that Loghain said he was, but I did it anyway without thinking. I'm such a fool!"

"So what do you intend to do about it?" Logan asked, looking expectantly at Jowan.

Jowan shrugged. "I'm just sick of running away and hiding from what I've done. I'm going to try to fix it, any way I can," he replied, addressing both Logan and Garrett now, "We were all friends once. I know I don't deserve to call the both of you that, after what I did… if it ever meant anything, please… help me fix this."

"We helped you once in the name of friendship!" Garrett snapped.

"And I betrayed you both," Jowan admitted, hanging his head again in shame, "And Lily. I'm so sorry! Please, I'm begging you—won't you help me try and do one thing right in my life?"

Logan turned around to face his companions, and glanced at Alistair first. The former templar shrugged and let out a heavy sigh. "He's your friend," Alistair looked at both Logan and Garrett, "You two know him best, right?"

"Give me a chance, please," Jowan pleaded again.

Logan frowned and glanced at his cousin. Garrett was no longer glaring at Jowan—his animosity had been replaced with indifference—and turned back to Logan with a shrug. Logan had almost been sure that Garrett would never forgive Jowan too, but seeing the anger drain away from his cousin's face was more than enough to sway his feelings. Logan felt a little apprehensive as Garrett nodded at him—indicating that he would go along with whatever Logan chose—and turned back to Jowan, no longer as agitated as he had been a few moments before. He knew he could not trust Jowan completely, but there was still the issue of Connor. If Jowan could help to free Connor from the demon, then perhaps Logan would relent and spare his life—for now.

"Fine," Logan said finally, and stepped forward to open the cell door. "I'll let you out."

"You're going to let him out?" Alistair quickly pulled Logan's hand away from the bars. "I thought you were just going to leave him in there until we're done with this issue with Connor and Arl Eamon. You're not going to let a blood mage out, are you?"

"He can help us," Logan replied flatly, and made to release Jowan from the cell. He looked at his friend with a serious expression. "I'm trusting you one more time, Jowan—if you break that trust again—"

"What if he's decides to stab us all in the back and drown us in that disgusting blood magic?" Alistair countered angrily, as Logan melted the locks and kicked open the cell door, "What if he won't help you later?"

"I will!" Jowan insisted adamantly, "I just need a chance to redeem myself. Please!"

"This is stupid," Alistair growled.

"Coming from someone like you?" mocked Morrigan, smirking at the former templar, "How ironic."

"I'm going to choose to ignore that, Morrigan," Alistair said, glaring at the witch, "Because even you should know that there are some people in this land that cannot be trusted, even if they swore upon their lives—"

"Alistair, I won't let him pull any stunts," Garrett reassured the seething Warden, "Look, there's only about five of us and one of him. What can he do with all our eyes on him, anyway?"

Alistair glared crossly at Garrett. "Not you too?" he said darkly, "So all of you are going to trust a blood mage? Is this how desperate we really are? I mean, we have two mages with us already—and a witch! This isn't necessary, Logan."

"Well," Logan said sternly, "Call me a fool and punch me in the face, but I think even the worst criminals deserve one more chance." He glanced at Jowan now. "One more chance, Jowan. If you screw this up, you're never going to see the light of day ever again."

"Yes," Jowan said earnestly, "I—I won't let you down!" He turned to Alistair now. "You can trust me, really!"

Alistair groaned in frustration as he glared pointedly at Logan now. "This had better be worth it, Logan."

Jowan had made an effort to restrain himself from using blood magic in front of them—especially Logan and Alistair—and only resorted to the normal spells that the Circle had taught them. He subsequently proved to be a great help, even though Alistair refused to see eye to eye with anyone who accepted Jowan—which was, essentially, everyone around him. Even though Logan didn't try to talk to his friend, he still hoped that Alistair would stop seeing Jowan as just a blood mage and apostate and see him as much needed help. If anyone knew anything more about magic and the Fade, it would be Jowan—the man had, after all, been at the Circle longer than Logan or the Hawkes.

Then again, Logan understood why Alistair would feel angry and adamant about the need to execute Jowan for his crimes and blood mage status, but even the fiercest of men should have the tiniest bit of mercy in them. Despite what the chantry law stated, Logan was not bent on killing the apostate at once. It could have possibly been because of their old friendship, but Logan knew there was a more practical use for Jowan in the future.

Teryn Loghain had hired Jowan—surely the blood mage could testify to Loghain's actions and intentions at the Landsmeet and prevent the rising of a new king that was no longer of the Theirin bloodline. After catching wind of an upcoming Landsmeet, Logan had convinced himself to try to put Alistair on the throne—if not out of ousting Loghain, then to put Alistair where he was meant to be and present him with his birthright—Ferelden and the throne. The youngest—and remaining—Theirin would certainly protest, but Logan decided that he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

They emerged out of the wine cellar and into the courtyard, where Logan spotted a lever to open the main gates to the castle. Sensing that Leliana and the rest were already outside the castle gates and waiting for them, Logan took the lead and headed for the lever when a walking corpse tackled him from the side as more swarmed out from the top of the stairs to the main entrance of the castle.

As the others took defensive positions, Garrett rushed for the lever and yanked it downwards. Outside, Leliana led the way into the courtyard with Ser Perth's group behind hers. Logan slammed his fist into the corpse's skull and seared a brand onto it. The corpse stumbled backwards and whirled around and hurled itself into the swarm of its own. Seconds after making contact with the other corpses that were heading for the living, it exploded and scattered the undead forces. Logan leapt to his feet as Ser Perth yelled something about the "leader of the undead", and looked to the opposite end of the courtyard.

There stood a Revenant, armored and bloodthirsty.

"Maker's breath." Logan heard Alistair's mutter and glanced at him and managed to make eye contact for a few seconds before Alistair turned his stare stubbornly back to the Revenant. He tried not to roll his eyes at Alistair's immaturity and crossed over to Sten.

"Take him when he comes for me," Logan said quietly.

The Qunari looked down at the mage with a sort of understanding in his eyes and nodded gruffly.

There was no time for further orders as the Revenant charged, with his minions ahead of him. Immediately, Ser Perth and his men dived into the fray and bought time as Leliana and the twins leapt onto higher ground to support the melee combatants. Garrett and Bethany followed Alistair closely into the fighting and provided supporting fire to gradually force the undead corpses backward.

Unblinkingly, Logan ran forward and hurled a fireball at the Revenant once he spotted an opening, hoping that it would get the creature's attention. It did, Logan realized, as the towering figure began to make its way towards Logan, who was already making his way up the steps to the main castle door. He stopped at the top and looked down at the advancing demon and slammed his staff onto the ground and shook the earth before him, causing the Revenant to stumble, but did not manage to stop its advancement towards him.

He caught his breath as Sten lunged out of nowhere at the armored creature, his greatsword's blade stabbing directly through its waist and emerging on the other side of the body, with black blood dripping from the wound and blade profusely. The Revenant swung its shield in Sten's direction and, after bashing him several times in the face, sent the Qunari flying off the steps and crashing into several undead corpses, and turned its red eyes back to Logan. Its hand went down to the handle of the greatsword and pulled it out of its own body effortlessly and without wincing the slightest bit.

Oh, Maker.

In desperation, Logan mustered his energy and casted a—hopefully—potent winter's grasp spell at the Revenant and, to his relief, managed to freeze it into an ice statue. He quickly made his way down the steps and past the frozen creature, but was yanked backwards as a hand—that might as well have been an iron fist—gripped his neck and prevented him from moving anymore. Within a split second, he was being thrust up into the air and slammed into the ground ruthlessly. Ice fell on his face as the Revenant broke out of its temporary prison and, its grip on Logan's neck tightening so hard he couldn't breathe and his neck began to bleed from small cuts, repeated the horrifying process.

By the second time Logan was smashed into the ground—already he could feel a depression in the hard stone—he was already screaming out in pain as he heard something break with a crack in his body. He prayed desperately that it wasn't a rib, but whatever was broken would probably serve to be a major problem for him anyway. He closed his eyes and refused to look into the soulless, red eyes of the Revenant as it continued the slow killing process, and prayed for a quicker death—

And suddenly, it stopped. The relentless torture stopped, and for a moment Logan thought he was dead, but he could still hear the fighting. He could hear Ser Perth yelling orders at his men while blades crashed against each other, the sounds becoming more and more distant. For a moment, he thought he was being dragged off somewhere as the noise faded, but he realized that he wasn't hurting—there was only the slight pain that came once in a while, now that he was no longer moving. He lifted his head slowly and saw a gigantic spider in front of him, its back to him. It seemed to be writhing at first, perhaps in pain, but Logan realized that it was the reason why the Revenant had let go of him.

"Logan!" Garrett's voice echoed in his mind as he let his head fall back against the ground again, "Bethany, get over here—Logan!"

He could see his cousin's face hovering over him, filled with worry and fear. Logan managed a weak smile, but he heard Garrett say something in protest as he was being carried down the steps and laid down on the grass. Logan's eyes slid out of focus for a moment as the pain returned, and he saw, through blurred vision, that the large spider was gone and in its place stood Morrigan, looking over the Revenant's dead body.

"Maker, there's so much blood," Garrett whispered, "Will he make it?"

"He must," Logan heard Leliana say as he felt her close beside him, laying her hands on his abdomen gently. "There are several broken ribs and perhaps a fracture somewhere—Bethany, can you do anything about that?"

Bethany let out a strangled sob. "I don't—I don't know," she said softly, her voice full of fear. Alistair immediately moved over to her side and put his arm around her. Garrett glanced at Alistair darkly, but said nothing.

"Logan…" Jowan looked down at his friend, thoroughly shaken. "Can anyone do something?"

"Move aside." Morrigan's voice pierced through the short-lived silence, and Logan felt Leliana leave his side. The witch knelt down next to him, her golden eyes filled with a sort of fear Logan had never seen before. He let out a pained sigh as she lifted his shirt, but kept his eyes on her.

When he had been apprehended and smashed repeatedly, Logan had wished for death. But something changed his mind as he looked upon her weakly, his blue eyes losing focus from time to time.

It was clear—perhaps to the both of them, as Morrigan kept her eyes on his too—he did not want to die. If anything, he didn't want to die and become unable to protect his cousins and let Alistair wander aimlessly away from his destiny. He didn't want Jowan to die, either. His decision had already been made since he let his old friend out of the cell—there would be no execution for Jowan. No, no… not anymore. He didn't want to leave Leliana alone, either—he knew no one believed in her vision and everyone thought she was crazy and he had planned to change that. The twins—there was something about them that made Logan feel obliged to protect them, too, but he was in too much pain to think more about it. And Sten—it was so hard to figure out the Qunari, yet Logan did not want him to return to that cage in Lothering—

"Morrigan," he muttered without realizing, his eyes glazing over from the pain, "I can't…"

"Hold still," she told him softly, so that only he could hear it, "and relax."

Instantly, he obeyed and slackened considerably. He could feel a burning sensation consuming his entire body as his bones ached. When he felt them move, he winced and groaned in pain.

"Morrigan, what magic is this?" Logan heard Jowan ask.

"Nothing the Circle would have taught you," Morrigan replied curtly, concentrated on the task at hand, "'Tis not surprising, considering how they would not allow unconventional means of magic into their practices."

"Like blood magic," Jowan murmured, causing Alistair to make a noise of disapproval. "Sorry," the apostate added hastily.

Logan began to feel delirious because of the pain and made to roll over, away from whatever Morrigan was doing to him, when the witch held him firmly in place. No words had been spoken, but he knew what she would say. There would be hell to pay if he weren't so brutally injured—Logan didn't know whether he was thankful for that or not.

Eventually, the burning was replaced with a cooling one as the pain died away. Logan was almost afraid to move again as his vision became sharper and he regained full consciousness. He looked over to Morrigan, who had already stood up to make way for Garrett and Bethany.

"Are you alright?" Garrett asked, contemplating whether to help Logan sit up or not in case his bones could still break.

Logan nodded slowly. "I don't feel anything anymore," he drawled, but did not try to move, "I'm not sure… Morrigan?"

The witch looked at him with an amused expression. "'Tis alright if you wish to remain there, lying on the ground," she told him, "and doubt my abilities to heal you." He could hear mockery in her tone and sat up forcefully as though in defiance, causing Bethany to cry out in surprise, despite expecting severe pains to gnaw at him again. To his dismay, there was no longer any pain. Logan got to his feet and stretched leisurely—he might have not suffered any fractures at all.

"That was…" Alistair looked at Logan with a sort of wonder in his eyes, "Maker's breath."

"I know," Logan agreed, looking just as surprised as the former templar was.

"I'm just expecting you to fall into pieces again," Garrett said, smirking mischievously. "No, really. Anytime now, Logan."

Sirius and Alexandra had identical expressions of awe on their faces. Leliana merely laughed and embraced Logan in relief.

"The Maker has smiled upon you today," Leliana said, almost in a sing-song voice. Logan thought he saw a flash of jealousy on Morrigan's face, but her facial expressions were always elusive, and he didn't want to make lousy assumptions. The Qunari almost smiled—Logan noticed his lips twitching slightly at the corners—and seemed to relax, as though he had been tense the entire time though his face betrayed those feelings. It was almost funny as Sten looked elsewhere when he caught Logan grinning at him.

"That was cool," Sirius said, glancing from Logan to Morrigan.

"Do you think I could learn that?" Alexandra chirped, "It could come in handy, you know."

Morrigan's lips twitched slightly. "Perhaps in your dreams," she said, "'Tis not some simple flick of the wrist that you can learn so easily. It takes focus and concentration and—more importantly—magical talent."

"Oh, I suppose," Alexandra smiled sweetly at Morrigan, who rolled her eyes, "But we could try it later! Just for fun."

"Unfortunately for you, I do not indulge in 'fun'," Morrigan replied simply.

Garrett chuckled. "I'm sure you do!" he said jokingly, "Just not the kind that the twins can do legally."

"We're not—"

"—that young!" the twins chorused.

"Duck and run," Logan cried out in mock terror, "Or she'll turn you into a—"

"—toad!" finished Alistair, finally bursting out into a smile.

"Oh, joy," Morrigan sneered, "Excuse me while I go and throw up somewhere from the sickeningly cute finishing of each other's sentences…"

Logan snickered as Alistair punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You ready to go now?" he asked, with a grin, "I'm afraid our Ice Queen will do something drastic and reverse the effects of her spell. Then I'd really be crying."

"Right," Logan said, clearing his throat, "Are you done fuming?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "I'm not a kid," he said, and glanced at Jowan to make sure that he could hear, "I'm—I guess I do see some sense in your decision. I suppose it wouldn't be very wise to just—just slice his head off without giving in a little."

Jowan swallowed hard. "You—you templars do that?"

"Only the bloodthirsty ones," Alistair said, "And I'm not one of them. Actually, I think the bloodthirsty ones actually choose to make a mage's death the most excruciating, most painful thing they've ever experienced—"

"Well—" Jowan started, but Ser Perth stepped into view.

"Can we move on?" Ser Perth piped up awkwardly, "I mean, I'm thankful that you are alive, Grey Warden, but—" He glanced to the castle. "We have a situation that needs handling."

Logan looked to Alistair, who merely grinned sheepishly back at him. He could already imagine Duncan groaning in frustration—if the man was still alive—at their lack of seriousness. It would piss the man off and it'd be a sight to see, but it would only be amusing if the deceased Warden was actually still alive and kicking. Logan wasn't sure if Alistair could still laugh at anything if he mentioned Duncan again, so he held his tongue.

"Of course," Logan said, looking at Ser Perth sheepishly.

"Let's get on with it before the ground opens up and swallows us," Morrigan said irritably and louder than usual, "Do not start flinging accusations around later if we find that the young boy is dead—or worse, the entire family along with your Arl Eamon."

She headed for the main door of the castle first, followed closely by Logan soon after. If there was something about this woman he had to admire the most, it would have to be her, more often than not, dampening seriousness and lack of humor. It could drive Logan crazy to see her being annoyed to death by Alistair and Garrett.

Well, only if she couldn't retaliate. Logan suddenly thought back to when he joked about tying her to a flagpole and tickling her. Suddenly, it didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.