A/N - Thank you to everyone for patiently waiting for me to post this chapter. As always, special love and thanks goes out to Eve Hawke for being the bestest beta mommy EVER! Special thanks goes out to my dear friend Etaine M for letting me whine and cry on her shoulder as I drafted this chapter. To those of you who have continued to support and review this story (and me while writing it), I give my never ending gratitude *hugs*
The whites of her eyes and glint of pearly teeth were all Anders could see in the shadows of the alley as Isabela looked behind her to make sure he was still following. Halting their progress as they reached the circle of lantern light where the street intersected with the alley, she spoke in hushed tones. "I know you have unfinished business with our little elf, but we aren't going to be waiting around for her once we get back to The Siren."
Anders raised an eyebrow, not sure he'd heard the pirate correctly. Was she actually suggesting they leave Zoya behind? He crossed his arms, his voice a harsh whisper. "What are you talking about, Isabela?"
"Do you really think we got away so easily?" The pirate ran nimble fingers through her dark locks and brushed smudges of dirt from her breeches. She looked over his shoulder into the alley and back out into the street before motioning him to follow. Anders hurried to keep up, frustrated that he was unable to replicate her silent grace; every step seemed to echo loudly against the stone of the surrounding buildings. He struggled to hear as she continued speaking in a muted voice. "The Chantry or the City Guard will find us. They've probably captured Zoya, and they're going to show up at The Siren next. Then they'll search my ship and find all sorts of things I don't want found. I can't let that happen." They skirted along the buildings to the dark shelter of the next alley.
He lunged forward, grabbing the pirate's arm to stop her, his voice raising in anger. "We had a deal – Zoya and I help you get the loot and you take us out of Denerim and share the profits."
Isabela hushed Anders by placing a finger against his lips. "Plans change, sparkles. Our accord was struck before the Templars got involved. I didn't want a fight with them." She stepped toward him, her fingers tracing down his chest. "But I never said you couldn't come with me." Arching into him, her lips grazed his cheek as she whispered in his ear. "I have so many uses for someone with your skills. Give me an hour, and you'll have forgotten all about the elf."
Anders let go of Isabela's arm and took a hasty step away from her, "I told you before – I'm not leaving without her. She said to meet her in the tunnels, and that's exactly what I plan to do. I promised her I would get her out of Denerim."
Isabela snorted inelegantly, waving a dismissive hand. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! That girl has you completely whipped, and you haven't even tumbled her yet. Imagine how wrapped around her finger you'll be once she spreads her legs for you." She turned to continue on her way. "Or maybe you'll finally be able to move on and focus on what's really important."
Anders froze in place, suddenly no longer interested in following her. He scowled at the pirate as he tried to keep the anger out of his voice; he'd grown tired of the woman's opinions about him and Zoya. So he hadn't bedded her yet - it was unusual for him, but he was wearying of Isabela's need to provoke him about it. "And what would that be?"
She paused, turning to regard him over her shoulder with amber eyes, a wry smile quirking at his annoyance. "Touched a nerve, have I? That you even need to ask, my lovely mage, tells me that your time in captivity has dulled you." The pirate chuckled softly. "Do these things mean anything to you – toe-curling sex, priceless treasures, epic adventure, freedom to do what you want with who you want? Because I remember a time when they did." She turned her back to him and drifted back into the shadows, her hips swaying as she picked her way carefully along the cobbles.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to regain his composure. Memories of his brief time with Zoya flitted through his mind. He was starting to feel an attachment to her; just admitting that to himself set off an uneasy fluttering in his chest. But he wasn't in the Circle anymore; this might be his chance for a more emotional entanglement. Well, at least until the Templars caught up to him again. Shaking his head in frustration, he dragged both hands through his hair, sighing heavily before hurrying to catch up to Isabela.
They reached the docks faster than he expected, and with no sign of pursuit. Maybe it was because Zoya had led the Templars off in another direction, or maybe Isabela was right and they had captured her. His stomach churned at the thought of what would happen to her in their custody. No, he didn't want to think about that. He had to believe that she'd escaped and was safely awaiting him in the tunnels.
Anders found his feet dragging as Isabela shifted her path toward The Siren. Sensing he was no longer following, the pirate turned. "You're really not coming with me? You're going to the tunnels to wait for Zoya?"
Anders swallowed hard, "I need to keep my promise. Besides, she might already be there. Just give me a couple of hours…"
Isabela anchored a fist on her cocked hip, "You're wrong if you think I'm going to wait around for you. You'd better hope she turns up soon. If you're not on the deck of The Siren in two hours, I'll sail without you." As she sauntered off toward her ship, Anders wondered if he was making the right choice.
~oOo~
The darkness was stifling as it surrounded her, wrapping her in its cold tendrils and pulling her deeper into the empty blackness. Maker's breath... where am I? Zoya delved into her muddled mind, tracing back through her memories. The last thing she remembered was running for her life, leading the Templars away from Anders, before they struck her down. Am I dead? Is this the Void? It would be... unfortunate... if this is all I have to look forward to...
It tempted her, this nothingness. Let go of the pain and the guilt and the worry. So peaceful... drifting here... She could easily surrender to it, but instinct told her to reach out, to grasp for a way to anchor herself. She fought against deadened limbs, feeling numbness transition to the discomfort of pins and needles as she forced them to obey.
The sound of men's voices and the clanking of armor tore through the darkness blanketing her. Idiot! Open your eyes... Her eyes flew open, the flickering light lancing through her head as the pain traveled from her afflicted orbs along a stream that pooled at the base of her skull. She bit back the curses forming on her lips, tasting blood as teeth sliced into the tender flesh on the inside of her cheek. It would do her no good to alert her captors that she was awake.
Hands moved of their own accord to shield her eyes, but were stopped short. Was she restrained? Carefully peeling them open, she focused bleary eyes on her fetters. A short chain ran from the wall to the manacles circling her wrists. The tarnished steel of the cuffs cut cruelly into raw and reddened skin, contrasting with hands so pale they were nearly blue. The manacles were cold, heavy things, threatening to drag her back down into the abyss as surely as a lead weight. For a moment, she considered letting them.
She shook her head to clear the cobwebs settling there, instantly regretting her decision as agony ripped through her head again. She bit down on her lip, sucking it between her teeth as she fought to remain silent. Anders would tease her about chewing on her lip in such a way. "You shouldn't abuse such loveliness," he would chide, then swoop in to kiss her. The memory of his mouth on hers sent warmth radiating from her core, renewing her need to break free from this confinement. Had he escaped? Or was he also suffering and chained in a nearby cell?
A shiver shook her slender frame; the unforgiving stone was cold against her bare skin, sapping any warmth granted by her thoughts of Anders. As the chill of the uneven cobbles pressed against her ribs and hip, she realized that her captors had taken her armor, leaving her nothing but her small clothes. But what was threatening to overcome her was more than just the frigid stone and cool air, it was a coldness, or rather numbness, spreading from the manacles. Again, she felt the lure of oblivion - the freedom from pain and weariness. She sighed, pushing back against the torpor enfolding her as she dragged herself upright. No! It's time to get out of this place.
The throbbing in her head and heaviness of her cuffed hands as they dropped into her lap were suddenly inconsequential as she became aware of the low voices of two human men rumbling outside the room. Zoya strained to hear their words in the hopes of discovering more about her captors and their plans for her.
"Why'd you have to bring her here? What am I gonna do with her once she wakes up? I don't wanna be turned into a toad!" His whiny voice was tense with fear.
The deeper voice that responded had a trace of an accent. "The Knight-Captain has an agreement with the arl's son, so I brought her here per his orders. She's Bann Vaughan's plaything until he's done with her." The din of heavy armor drowned out the low voices for a moment before she heard more. "I can't believe you're frightened of the elf. She's harmless - she can't use magic while she's wearing the cuffs. I just hope the bann leaves enough to take back to the Circle Tower this time – she'd be a valuable Tranquil."
Panic burrowed into her gut, churning bile into a mouth gone dry with fear. They were taking her back to the Circle to make her Tranquil. Fighting back her growing desperation, she inspected the cuffs more closely to determine how they severed her connection to the Fade and how to get out of them. Even through her anxiety, Zoya's focus sharpened, one thought rising above the others. There's no way I'm going to let them take me to the Circle! I'm going to get out of this cell and back to the Alienage tunnels; Anders is there waiting so we can leave Denerim together. Everything will be better once we're on board The Siren. This last bit chased through her head in a soothing mantra... Anders... The Siren... These words were a comfort, an escape, and for the moment it was all Zoya wanted.
"It still makes me twitchy that one of them robes is on my watch." The man's voice was cracking from anxiety. "And I don't think Bann Vaughan's getting to her anytime soon. He's busy with the other knife ears snatched from the Alienage tonight. I hear one of 'em – a little red-haired wench - tried to fight back. The bann said he's gonna enjoy taking his time breaking her."
Zoya's ears twitched and she held her breath at the mention of other elves. Her gut clenched, Little red-haired wench... No... It couldn't be...
"From what I've heard, the bann's appetites are… disturbing. But then money and power will buy you a lot of latitude." The man's deep voice was strangely calm as he spoke, "We've brought a half-dozen women to him and his cronies for their entertainment in so many months and only one has survived to take to the Circle. It was a kindness to make that one Tranquil. I hear he's got the same arrangement with the City Guard?"
Zoya could hear one of the men start to pace, his sword jangling against his armor. "Yeah, that's who brought in the other lot. The bann wanted some wenches for a party and got wind there's gonna be a wedding tomorrow in the Alienage. They figured them knife ears would use that as an excuse to drink, so maybe easy hunting. I hear a couple of 'em were killed on the spot for having knives. But they dragged two wenches back here with a brother of one of 'em. I don't know why they didn't just kill him there. Maybe he's gonna be a warning to the others not to act up."
Her breath caught in her chest. Oh Maker... Please don't let it be... Before she left the Alienage earlier to meet Anders for the Chantry heist, her cousins had told her of their plans to continue their pre-wedding celebrations into the night. Soris had even suggested she come back after she was done at the Chantry to join them. Dread threatened to paralyze her as her mind raced; she needed to get out of this cell, to try to help the others if she could.
Zoya looked down at the manacles and wondered how many women had died wearing them. Clenching her teeth and pushing her fear to the back of her mind, she made a silent vow; I won't allow myself, or anyone else, to be another one of Vaughan's victims.
Sliding back against the cold, stone wall, she was able to get enough play in the chain to run her fingers through her hair. Adaia had been persistent in her lessons, and a bitter smile tugged at Zoya's lips as her mother's words sounded in her ear, "You can't always be lucky, but you can be prepared to make your own luck - always have a plan."
Her captors might have taken her fighting leathers, but nimble fingers found the hairpin still hidden in the thick braid hanging down her back. The crude metal of the manacles cut into her wrists as she twisted them to access the simple lock. Zoya maneuvered the hairpin, her numb fingers doing as they'd been trained over years of practice. The lock snapped open with a deafening click, and the manacles tumbled to her a lap. She flinched as gruesome images flitted through her mind of imagined traps being triggered by unlocking the cuffs without a key. It couldn't be this easy to free herself from the cursed things. But then, she doubted that the Templars were worried about their captives getting free of the cuffs - how many mages were skilled at picking locks?
The change was instantaneous - the fog lifted from her mind, her hands returned to their normal color and her connection to the Fade trickled back. Once she retrieved her belongings and her pack, she'd take the vile cuffs and destroy them so they couldn't be used against anyone else. Zoya climbed to her feet and reached through the heavy bars of the cell door to manipulate the lock mechanism with her hairpin, practiced fingers moving blindly. Within the space of a breath, the lock clicked open. Reaching past the bars, she raised the lever to open the cell door, listening to make sure the release wasn't heard by the guards. Silent feet carried her in the direction of the voices, further into the dungeons.
Rounding a corner, she spotted the chainmail-clad human guard sitting at a table with his back to her. Bare feet gliding noiselessly along the stone, she moved to within a breath of the man. So silent was her passage that she went completely unnoticed until her slender arm snaked around his neck. Her other hand darted out to snatch the dagger from his belt, pressing the point against his jugular. She spoke in a low growl, her lips within a breath of his ear, "Where are the other elves that got brought in tonight, shem? And where's the mage-hunter?"
The man tensed, trying very hard not to move as the blade dug into his throat. His voice cracked as he spoke, "Oh Maker... please don't turn me into a slug or anything! Vaughan's got the women up in his quarters – at the top of the stairs next to where you was kept. The other's in the next block of cells - just head down that tunnel ahead. I don't know where the Templar is – gone probably…" The man was shaking, his voice desperate, "Please don't kill me… I never hurt any of your kind and I got a family… a wife and two boys… they need me!"
"You might never have hurt any of my kind, but did you do anything to help them? How many died under your watch, shem?" She spoke in a venomous tone as she tried to work her rage up to drive the blade into his neck. As the human flinched, a sob catching in his throat, she sighed in frustration knowing she wasn't going to be able to kill him. "If I were you, I'd find a different job. Thank you for your assistance…" Flipping the dagger in her hand, she smashed the hilt into his temple and lowered his head to the table next to his unfinished meal. Shrugging, she grabbed the hunk of bread from his plate and crammed it into her mouth – there was no point in letting the human's dinner go to waste while her stomach was empty and growling.
As she searched the storage trunks in the otherwise spare room, she collected her fighting leathers and other belongings. With practiced fingers, she slipped into the tight leather with a grateful sigh and fastened the buckles and laces, checking to make sure the hidden knives and other tools were in their proper pockets.
Moving on silent feet through the passageway, she listened for other guards. The dungeons were silent as the grave. Reaching the next group of cells, she moved along the barred doors and peered through each one, hoping to find the other elven prisoners. A familiar form lay huddled on the floor at the back of a cell. Her voice was little more than a whisper as she unlocked the door with pilfered keys and swung the door open. "Soris? Are you alright?"
He stared at her blankly, "What? What are you doing here?" Zoya rushed into the cell, kneeling next to her cousin as she bristled at the sight of his battered and swollen face. Soris gingerly poked at his split lip with the tip of his tongue. "We were celebrating… I tried to stop the humans… They took Shianni and Nola! We have to find them before… we don't have much time…"
Zoya lay gentle hands on either side of Soris' face, letting her healing energy flow into him as she spoke. "I know where they are – it's not far. But before we go, you need to be healed and armed. Are you up for a fight? I don't think we're getting out of here without blood being spilled."
Groaning as he let Zoya drag him to unsteady feet, he lurched at her, clasping his hands around her upper arms. They locked eyes, his widening for a moment before he nodded. "Whatever it takes, cousin."
~oOo~
The leather soles of his boots slapped against the stone floor in a rapid rhythm as he paced the length of the training room. His head was spinning, his thoughts a whirlwind. It's been far too long… She should have been here by now! He stopped his pacing, holding his breath and willing his heart to quiet as he strained his ears. There was only silence; his breath escaped him in a rush as he dragged his hands through his hair and resumed his pacing.
Andraste's flaming knickers – get a grip, man. She's fine and she'll be here any minute. You'll see… There's no way she didn't escape the Templars! But Anders knew better; he could wish for her to be safe, but it would be foolish to do so. I could have stopped her, but I didn't. His blood ran cold at the thought of being recaptured by the Templars - he would be dragged back to the Circle Tower, or killed, or even worse, made Tranquil. Guilt wrenched his gut as he let the words come. I was thankful she was drawing the Templars off so I could escape. But if I truly cared for her, I would have stayed with her or kept her from leaving.
Shaking his head to clear it, Anders realized the unhappy truth - deep down he was a selfish coward and even if he did care for Zoya, he cared for himself more. There was a part of him that hated that he hadn't tried to protect Zoya and knew she deserved a far better man than himself. But he owed it to her to help her now. Maker, let her be alright… Let her return here safely.
He considered leaving the tunnels to find her, but he didn't even know where to start looking. Zoya had said she would meet him here. If she escaped the Templars, he risked missing her if he left. If she was captured, he didn't know where they would take her – maybe directly to the Circle or perhaps in a cell somewhere until the morning? It was strange, something he'd never experienced before, this mixture of fear and guilt and helplessness and impotence. It was driving him mad.
Anders whirled toward the sound of quiet footsteps approaching the training room. A weight lifted from his chest and a relieved smile tugged at his lips, but it died as he remembered that Zoya wouldn't let her footsteps be heard. Raising both hands and turning his palms skyward, he drew energy, forming it into searing balls of light that hovered and spun inches above his outstretched fingers.
He didn't need to wait long; the bearded human stepped into the entryway of the training room, torchlight shimmering on his silver armor as he raised both hands before him to show he meant no harm. He spoke in a deep voice laced with subtle humor, "Ahh… now I understand Zoya's fascination - you're a mage. Her mother could never resist taking in stray mages either." The heavily armored man crossed an arm over his chest and gave a slight bow. "My name is Duncan. I'm an old friend of Zoya's. I was hoping to find her here."
The lightning balls extinguished as Anders closed his fists and dropped them to his side. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he spoke with an incredulous tone. "Duncan? Commander of the Grey?" Encouraged by a nod of the man's dark head, he continued. "Zoya speaks highly of you. She said you and her mother were… quite close, that you taught her to fight." He felt reluctant to continue, but the man's dark eyes fixed on him expectantly. "Zoya isn't here…"
Duncan crossed her arms, his neutral face shifting into a scowl as a crease formed between his brows. "When I didn't find her in the Alienage, I assumed she'd be here. Where is she?"
Feeling strangely like he did when he was brought before the First Enchanter, Anders looked down at his feet and tried to make his face look innocent as he composed his response. There was something about talking to authority figures that brought out the charlatan within him. A lie bloomed on his lips - something about a fair maiden, a vicious dragon, a daring rescue, maybe involving a griffin since Zoya had a bit of an obsession with the creatures - but then the concern in Duncan's eyes drew the truth forth. "We were liberating some items from the Chantry earlier this evening when the Templars interrupted us. Zoya led them off so I could escape with another in our party. She said she'd meet me back here, but she hasn't returned."
Duncan nodded, sadness filling his eyes. "Her mother was like that, always putting the welfare of others before her own." A troubled look settled on his features as he stroked his beard. "Zoya knows just about every tunnel under this city; if she escaped the Templars, she'd be here by now. Even now she's likely in their custody. As she's an apostate, they'll have taken her to the dungeons in the Denerim estate until they can transport her to the Circle Tower, assuming they didn't kill her outright."
Anders' heart clenched as Duncan confirmed his worst fears. The guilt he'd been nursing grew; Zoya was in trouble, and he was to blame. Images of Isabela and The Siren came unbidden to his mind. It was likely still waiting at the docks - all he'd have to do was leave, and this remorse could remain behind him.
That he would even consider such a thing horrified him. I can't just abandon her. But then what could I possibly do to save her? If I tried, I'd probably just get captured or killed, and how would that help her?
Duncan circled the room as Anders' thoughts warred in his head, pausing to trace a casual hand over the implements secured on the weapons' rack. He wrapped strong fingers around the pommel of one sword, lifting it for closer inspection before running a finger along its keen edge. "Do you have a plan for rescue? I assume you wouldn't abandon a companion."
Anders groaned, his head falling into his hands. "No... Andraste's flaming ass, this is all such a mess..."
Duncan turned his attention to Anders, regarding him with calm eyes. "Perhaps you weren't aware, but the Grey Wardens are currently encamped at Ostagar with half the soldiers in Ferelden preparing to stop the next Blight. I came to Denerim to find additional recruits to bolster our numbers. I could conscript Zoya into the Wardens, save her from what the Templars have in store for her."
Hope made his heart catch and he risked raising his eyes to meet Duncan's. "That's right! As a Grey Warden, you could conscript Zoya, even if she'd been arrested by the Templars! And you'd be willing to do that?"
Duncan returned the sword to the rack and moved to one of the long work tables, pausing to let his fingers linger on the wooden practice daggers he'd carved for Zoya so long ago. "Adaia and I trained her. I don't doubt that she has abilities that would benefit the Wardens in our fight against the darkspawn." He turned his dark eyes toward Anders, "I do have one question first. What are your intentions toward Zoya?"
Anders arched an eyebrow, "Intentions?"
Duncan crossed his arms, "Don't play dumb, lad. What are your plans? Had it been she who arrived here moments ago, what would your next steps be?"
Anders bit his tongue, certain it would be a bad idea to share with Duncan what he'd hoped to be doing had Zoya walked into the room instead of the Warden. And he certainly didn't think it was good idea to share his feelings towards Zoya with Duncan, not that he truly understood them himself. He decided the best course of action was to keep his answer simple and leave out anything regarding emotional or physical entanglements. "I don't know if you were aware of this, but Zoya is to be married tomorrow - her father arranged the match, not that she was happy about it. I agreed to help her leave Denerim so she wouldn't have to go through with the wedding. We had an arrangement with the captain of a ship here for safe passage out of the city, thus the Chantry misadventure. We were going to sail before first light."
Duncan regarded him, stroking his thick beard with a gloved hand. "I see. So she is set on leaving Denerim?" He paused for Anders' nod of confirmation, "If Zoya's been arrested, I can conscript her and she'll be released into my service. But if I do that, she'll not be leaving with you - she'll be going to Ostagar with me to join the ranks of the Grey Wardens. She'll have to leave her old life behind. Are you prepared to not see her again?"
"I don't suppose you could conscript her just to get her freed and then let us leave as we planned?" Anders offered Duncan a wry grin.
Duncan quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head, "I'm guessing you're on the run from the Circle?" Again, Duncan paused for Anders' silent confirmation. "Have you considered what your future with Zoya would be like? You know as well as I that if Zoya leaves with you, she'll be hunted by the Templars as an apostate just as you've been. You'd live hunted, forever on guard, risking betrayal to the Chantry by every person you encounter. And as a Circle mage, the Templars have your phylactery. Have you considered that when they use it to track you down, it will lead them to her as well? Do you think she'll let them take you without a fight? Eventually she'd be captured and made a Tranquil or executed. Or perhaps she'd sacrifice herself to protect you, much like she did tonight, only I'll not be there to intervene."
Anders rubbed the stubble along his jaw. He really hadn't given much thought to what their lives would be like once they left Denerim. Guilt pressed down on him like a weight and he moved to the sleeping platform, sitting down and dropping his head to his hands. Duncan was right - all he could offer was a life on the run, constantly watching over their shoulders for the Templars and always wondering when someone would report them to the Chantry. Zoya deserved a better life than the one he could provide.
Duncan laid a hand on Anders' shoulder, his voice sympathetic. "I do understand lad, better than you might know. I had an opportunity to conscript Adaia, but it was decided she would stay in the Alienage with her new husband. Had I conscripted her, perhaps she wouldn't have been executed by the Templars. This is a chance for Zoya to avoid her mother's fate - if she comes with me, I can protect her. She'll no longer need to fear the Chantry and she can use her gifts to help defeat the Blight." Duncan paused to quietly watch Anders struggle with the choice before him. "You could come to Ostagar as well - your abilities would benefit the Wardens in the coming fight."
This was a possibility Anders hadn't considered for himself - to become a Grey Warden and devote his life to fighting darkspawn. But there was the rub; his blood ran cold at the very idea of devoting himself to any one thing, or person, for a lifetime. How would that differ from what he fled at the Circle? Suddenly a few angry Templars didn't seem quite so dangerous when compared to a darkspawn horde or an archdemon. "I've never been a joiner or one for causes, really. As much as I appreciate the offer, and as much as I like the idea of telling the Chantry and the Templars where they can shove it, I don't think becoming a Grey Warden is in my future."
Anders rose to his feet, pacing the chamber as he further considered Duncan's words. Assuming she was in the custody of the Templars, it wasn't like there were options - either Duncan conscripted Zoya or she remained in captivity. Perhaps she could escape and they would be reunited, but where would they go? No, it would be better for Duncan to conscript her into the Wardens. With Duncan, she could be more than just an apostate on the run. "You swear you'll keep her safe? That she'll never need to fear the Chantry or its Templars again?"
Duncan nodded, his face solemn. "I swear it. Zoya is the nearest thing to a daughter I'll ever have. I'll do everything in my power to ensure she is protected."
Duncan's resolve chased away the last of Anders' doubt; he clasped the Warden's hand in gratitude, sure the relief was apparent on his face.
"So what will you do now?" Duncan asked.
Anders swallowed the lump rising in his throat. "Now I catch my ship before it leaves without me, if it hasn't already." Anders strode toward the exit, pausing as he stooped to pick up his pack. "Could you tell Zoya…" Tell her what? That I care for her? That I'm sorry I'm leaving? That I'm only leaving because she deserves better? Anders shook his head, "No, never mind. It's better this way…" He called a wisp to him as he moved along the passageway toward the panel leading to the docks. He ignored the ache in his chest – this was the right thing to do. Zoya was better off with Duncan and the Grey Wardens.
~oOo~
As Zoya stood outside the door leading to Bann Vaughan's private chambers, she glanced over her shoulder at Soris. The elf was fidgeting, tugging at his stolen armor with shaky hands. Even with the straps pulled to their tightest, the guard's armor hung loosely on the elf's slender frame. If their circumstances weren't so dire, she might have teased him about looking like a small child playing dress-up. "Are you sure you want to do this? I could go in alone and you could wait here on the stairs until I give the all clear."
Staring at her in disbelief, Soris stopped pulling at the armor and drew the sword, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the hilt and raised the shield. "Shianni's family, and Nola might as well be! They don't deserve this fate - no elf does! I have as much responsibility for their safety as you. Maybe if I'd been less drunk or a better fighter, we wouldn't even be in this mess."
Laying a hand on Soris' shoulder, Zoya offered a grim smile, "And maybe if I hadn't been out playing thief and had stayed in the Alienage tonight, I'd have been there to help fight off the guards and no one would have been captured or killed. Or maybe we would have all been killed on the spot. We can't dwell on what-if's right now - we need to focus on getting all of us back to the Alienage safely."
"Yeah, I know - you're right. Let's just get this done so we can go home." His words were brave but Soris paled, his voice trembling as he spoke.
Zoya pulled Soris into a quick hug, taking a deep breath before releasing him and pressing her ear to the door. The wood was heavy and she couldn't hear anything useful, just the quiet rumbling of male voices. Perhaps Shianni and Nola were in a different room? No matter, Zoya would tear the estate apart to find them if needed. Using the pilfered keys, she unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly, peeking through the growing crack and hoping the clicking lock or squeaking hinges didn't attract attention. They seemed to be entering directly into the bann's private quarters- she shuddered as she considered the kind of man who would have a dungeon adjoining his bedchamber.
There were three human men in garish noble garb standing with their backs to Zoya and Soris - they didn't seem to notice the intruders. It only took a moment for Zoya to realize what had the men's attention - the two elven women lying in pools of blood on the floor at their feet. Nola's dead eyes stared blankly in their direction, and Shianni was completely still and curled up in a ball facing the opposite wall. Zoya growled in surprised rage, pulling the daggers from their sheaths on her back. "You bastards!"
The men turned toward the elves in bewilderment. One of them, she assumed the leader, spoke, "My, my... what have we here? Another pretty thing comes to join our party? I fear I've exhausted my other female guests."
The dark-haired human clapped the leader on his back and smiled, "Don't worry, Vaughan, we'll make quick work of these two!"
Vaughan glared at the man, "Quiet you idiot! These two have made it through the dungeons and into my private quarters. What do you think that means?" The other man stared at him with a blank expression. "It means, you moron, that they've defeated my guards."
Zoya twirled the daggers in her hands and stalked forward with Soris just a step behind. "You're going to pay for what you've done, shem!"
Vaughan raised his hands in surrender, "Alright... let's not be too hasty here... Surely we can talk this over..."
Zoya bit down hard on her tongue, trying to stop the words from spilling over as her rage simmered just below the surface. What she really wanted to do was gut this vile human and stretch his entrails from one side of the estate to the other. "Do you really think you can talk your way out of this?"
"Think about what you're about to do. Kill me, and you ruin more lives than just your own. By dawn the streets of the Alienage will run red with elven blood." Vaughan took a step away and crossed his arms. "Or we could talk this through, now that you have my undivided attention."
Frowning, Zoya's eyes lingered on the still form of her cousin. "We'll tell the city what you've done here! No one will blame us..."
Vaughan sneered, "You think people care about elven whores? You think my father will ignore my death simply because I used some animals as they were meant to be used?"
The bann's voice struck her like a backhand. Zoya knew that there were humans who considered elves to be no better than livestock, but to have this man say the words to her as he stood over the body of her cousin... "We're not animals!"
Vaughan waved a dismissive hand, "A poor choice of words perhaps, but you understand. You'd risk everything you know on petty revenge?"
"I've come this far, it's a little late to turn back now." Zoya's hands tightened on her weapons.
"But Zoya, what if he's right? What if they purge the Alienage again?" She glanced at Soris as he spoke, keeping Vaughan and his companions in her sights. His face looked pinched and pale, "My parents died in the last purge. I don't want to lose any more family or friends just so we can get revenge."
"You'd do well to listen to him. Do you really want to be the cause of that?" Vaughan pointed out in a cruel voice.
Zoya cringed, remembering the last purge. So many elves had been lost in the violence. The humans had blamed rioting in the Alienage for the deaths, but Zoya knew that wasn't true. She pushed the memories away. "This is about more than revenge or even vengeance, Soris. Look at what they did to Nola and Shianni..." Zoya's voice cracked with emotion as she spoke her cousin's name. She turned then to Vaughan. "How many others will you hurt? How many more will suffer at your hands? This is about justice – some things can't be left unpunished. Besides," she turned back to her cousin. "There'll be another purge whether we let him live or not."
Soris swallowed hard, "If-if you think it's the right thing to do... I've got your back whatever you decide, Zoya."
"Bah! I always regret talking to knife-ears!" An ugly sneer cut across his face. "You could have done the smart thing and walked away, perhaps with gold in your pocket. But now I'll just gut your ignorant carcasses instead." Vaughan drew his sword from its sheath and looked at his companions. "Don't just stand there, you idiots - kill them!"
The lighter haired noble was the first to move, lunging for a crossbow set on a side table. As he lifted it to take aim at Zoya, she rolled out of the way, tucking one of her daggers into her boot so she could grab a throwing knife from a hidden pocket. She loosed it in a fluid motion; the knife hit its mark, sinking deep into the human's neck. His grunt of surprise ended in a gurgle as he drew his last breath and sank to the floor.
Zoya whirled to face Vaughan, retrieving the weapon from her boot in time to catch his sword in her crossed blades. Shifting her weight, she tried to throw the noble off balance, but he'd anticipated that and shifted his weight onto his back leg. Keeping her face neutral in response to his smirk, she circled the human, feigning attacks to gauge his responses. He was obviously a trained duelist, but his movements were predictable and soon Zoya felt her focus drifting to her cousin's fight.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Soris and the remaining lackey circling each other. The men settled into a rhythm of strikes and blocks; Zoya recognized that Soris was lulling his opponent into a predictable pattern as he looked for weaknesses. It was risky, because it could allow a more skilled opponent to do the same. The human was strong and every blow that Soris blocked with his shield was accompanied by a grunt of pain. He wouldn't be able to hold up for long unless he found an opening and went on the offensive.
Vaughan lunged at Zoya, trying to take advantage of her apparent distraction, but she had continued tracking his movements and was faster. Dodging the thrust of his sword, she trapped his arm against her side and stepped into him as she drove a dagger into his groin. He cried out in pain, his eyes growing wide as he dropped to his knees. "Please... it's not too late to walk away from this. I can give you as much gold as you can carry. You just have to let me live..."
Zoya leaned in to whisper in his ear as she twisted the dagger, "All the gold in Ferelden couldn't stop me from killing you. This is for Shianni and Nola and all the other women you brutalized over the years, you sick bastard." Pulling the dagger free, she spun and sliced through the human's neck.
As Vaughan collapsed to the floor, the remaining noble shifted focus away from Soris, his face filled with horror at his lord's demise. The young elf took advantage of the opening, knocking the man's sword to the side with his shield and impaling him through the chest. It was a quick death, which was more than the human had deserved.
The man's blood dripped from the sword as it pulled free. Soris dropped it with a clatter, wide eyes darting between the gore on his hands and the human he'd killed. "He's…he's dead! They're all dead!" A whimper clawed free from his throat, and his terrified gaze flew to his cousin. "Tell me we did the right thing, Zoya!"
"It's a little late for regrets, don't you think? Besides, he forced our hand." Zoya avoided looking at the dead men as she moved toward the elven women, kneeling first beside Nola and closing her vacant eyes. She rose and took slow steps toward Shianni, not wanting to accept that her cousin was gone. Tears burned in her eyes as she looked up at Soris; he stood several steps back from the women, his face buried in his hands to avoid looking at their still forms. Dropping to her knees next to Shianni, she brushed the hair back from her cousin's bruised and swollen face. The young elf's skin was still warm.
Gasping in astonishment, she rolled Shianni gently to her back and laid an ear against her cousin's chest. Her heart was beating - it was faint, but it was still beating! "Soris, she's still alive!" Zoya drew on her healing magic, channeling it through herself and into her cousin.
Soris knelt opposite Zoya, his voice desperate. "Can you save her? Will she be alright?"
"I don't know... her injuries are severe and she's lost too much blood..." Zoya feared the damage to her cousin was beyond what she was able to fix. Cursing her inadequacy, her hands shook as she guided her magic to stop the bleeding. Oh Maker... Please don't let her die... Given enough time and potions, Zoya was sure she could heal the worst of Shianni's wounds, but she sensed there were other more elusive injuries. If only Anders was here - Zoya didn't doubt that he'd be able to heal her cousin beyond what she was able to do.
Her heart flip-flopped in her chest; Anders was back in the tunnels awaiting Zoya's return. All she needed to do was stabilize Shianni and get the young elf to him. "We need to get her back to the Alienage right away - I know someone who can save her."