A/N: Congrats to the anonymous reviewer that correctly guessed the cameo of last chapter. I'd give you Internet cookies and hugs, but I've got no idea who you are! And a thanks to JayRain for being a bouncing board, the help was appreciated!

Something was happening in the Gnawed Noble tavern, and Kallian was curious enough to risk being seen in public near the site of excitement. The Noble was never a place that Kallian would put on her top ten places to get into a brawl, seeing as it was always full of stuffy pompous old men who were more likely to talk your ear off than resort to blows. But this was something serious. The commotion going on inside could be heard from the street just outside, the sound of breaking glass and chairs ringing sharply in the silence that had fallen.

Suddenly the door burst open and two men stumbled out of it, one falling on his face before righting himself. A third was forcibly shoved out the door, and much to everyone's surprise it was an elf who seemed to have done the shoving. Kallian's eyes went wide when she realized that it was the elf she'd tried to cut a purse from the day before, the testy Dalish man looking slightly more ticked off today than he had been earlier.

"By Andraste's blessed knickers…" She mumbled to herself, getting an eye load of the commotion going on with some amusement creeping onto her face.

'Ticked Off' wasn't really an apt description enough. In fact, he looked a bit livid; stomping out behind the man he'd thrown on the ground and roughly picked him up by the front of his armor. The elf hauled the man to eye level, which made the human have to stoop awkwardly to meet his gaze, looking like he'd much rather be anywhere else right about now. The elf wound back his arm and punched the man square in the jaw with an audible crack, a startled cry of pain issuing from the captured human. "Make one more funny about my people shemlen and I'll see to it that a bruised jaw is the last thing you have to worry about."

"Theron! Let him go! He's learned his lesson, surely!" The door of the Noble was suddenly occupied by a woman with short flaming red hair and spoke with a noticeable Orlesian accent. A handful more of men followed in her wake, all of them looking worse for wear except for what was probably her two fellow companions. One Kallian recognized as the blonde puppy-faced human that she'd tried to steal from earlier, the other a very tall and very imposing dark-skinned man with violently purple eyes and white braided hair.

The Dalish elf held the human a bit longer then shoved him away. "Leave now. I'd better not hear trouble from you again, you rot-rooted son of a boar, or the lady's graces won't save you next time." Scrambling, the man and his group of troublemakers beat a quick retreat, shoving their way through the crowd and down to the docks.

Once the display was over Kallian retreated with the crowd as they went about their business, having no desire to be recognized by this Theron fellow when he was in such a foul mood. She kept her eye on them though, following behind at a discrete distance, wondering what the four were up to now. The Red Oars had been a nuisance in the Gnawed Noble for near a week, stirring up all sorts of trouble. Not that Kallian had really cared. Any feather ruffling when it came to rich shems was perfectly reasonable in her personal opinion.

They reported to a man that she recognized as the guard-captain, perhaps the least corrupt guard she had probably ever had the misfortune to meet. If she weren't a thief and he weren't human, she probably would have liked him a great deal. As it was, they were practically archenemies. The captain talked to them for a little bit, money changed hands, and then the group of four was on their merry way to do whatever it was that a group of fully armed people did in a city.

Retreating back to the alleyways, she began pondering what she'd seen. They weren't guards, obviously; they were actually doing something useful, and they weren't wearing the uniform. They seemed a little too clean for commonplace mercenaries, and the redhead was certainly too merciful to be a hired arm. Well, if they were a gang that was going to be staying in the city for good, she'd probably run into them again. Maybe they were refugees from the south. A lot of those had been trickling into and through Denerim recently, carrying with them rumors that a Blight had settled on the land.

Right. She'd believe that when she saw it.

-0-0-0-

It was getting harder to run and hide. Sleep was rare in coming, and even when they did catch a break, it wasn't the kind of sleep that they needed. Solona jumped at every little noise and snapping twig, expecting to see glittering armor appear through the forest and the Templars to descend upon them. They'd killed two so far, but the death of a comrade only kept the Templars on edge and they hunted the apostate and her supposed blood thralls with a devotion that only those in religious fervor could maintain.

The strain was starting to show in all of them. Aedan hardly talked when the two were awake, picking their way through the tough underbrush of the Brecilian forest with as much care as they could manage while maintaining a quick pace. He'd left some of his armor behind, either too heavy to carry or too damaged from repeated fights with the heavy hitting Templars to be of any use anymore. Keran walked at his side, the dog also having gone silent. It was hard to tell what an animal felt, but the mabari was dragging too, as exhausted as the humans were by being constantly alert and seeing trouble in every shadow.

It was a little past noon and they were trekking up and down a set of hills that were a dangerous combination of easy sloping leaf-covered ground and rocky cliffs that seemed to jut out of nowhere. They had crossed back over the Drakon River and passed by Dragon's Peak a few days ago, the single monolithic crop of stone so oddly out of place in the flat green forest was the last known landmark that they could navigate by. It was all unknown lands from here on out, and more than once they'd nearly killed themselves by almost falling down one of the sudden cliffs.

Solona found another one and only just managed to avoid it by a few inches, gazing over the edge and gulping. It was a long way down. Keran, walking ahead of them a little bit suddenly stiffened, his lip raising in a growl which only meant one thing.

"Aedan! They can't catch us here! We've only got one way to go!" Panic entered her voice, knowing that even if they weren't trapped between Templars and a cliff that they were in no shape to beat the seven or more men following them. Ahead of them was a large boulder just barely clinging onto the cliff face, the back side of it held in place by a huge oak tree that effectively boxed them off from continuing to go any further along the line of the gulch.

"Don't know if we have much of a choice." He replied gruffly, his voice low and rough from being silent for so long. They could hear the crashing that was always a prelude to the Templars making an appearance. Aedan took a ready stance, Solona falling in behind him and Keran sidling up at his side, hackles raised and a growl on his lips.

Before the Templars could slam a nullifying spell on her she called down the wrath of the heavens, expelling a large amount of mana to call a storm of wind and ice. The wind howled, and a sudden vortex of biting sleet and snow erupted in the trees, coating them with a thick layer of frost. Cries of surprise and agony rose from the darkness of the forest, and then all at once it was gone, a wave of energy silencing the writhing tempest that Solona had caused.

Five Templars emerged from the forest, all of them bearing swords and looking angry and haggard. The forest hadn't been kind to them either. Her skin prickled, and Solona shoved Aedan's back, pushing him forward as a chilling sensation overtook her. It wasn't more than a second later when a blast of energy overwhelmed her and she felt the all-too familiar draining sensation as the force of the Templar's will brought her to her knees. Once she had been able to resist the staggering effects of such a powerful force, but in her weakened state she just wasn't up to mustering the willpower to stay standing after such a blow.

Aedan staggered forward after being shoved so forcefully and felt the concussive blast wash over him with little effect. The Templars rushed forward as a group and Keran howled as he rushed to meet them head on, seemingly completely unafraid of the numbers stacked against them. A templar with shield and sword met the dog's charge, swinging for a kill with his shield guarding his flank. Keran ducked under the whistling blade and barreled straight into the man, knocking him to the ground where he attempted to tear into the Templar's throat.

Two more Templars bearing two-handed swords came to defend their fallen comrade. One was cut short of the pursuit when Aedan intercepted him, slamming his shield into the right arm of the Templar. A metallic crunch and a startled cry of pain resulted, and the Templar tried to hack at Aedan awkwardly with only his left hand. The blade sunk into the leafy forest floor readily, and Aedan took the momentary pause to hit the Templar's hand with the pommel of his sword. The man let go of his blade and quickly tried to fall back when Aedan very nearly took off his head.

Solona regained her footing, the horrid sensation of the Templar's attempt to nullify her finally starting to wear off. She palmed her staff and with a thought froze the second Templar mid-swing as he went to try and chop Keran in half horizontally. Another shield bearing Templar moved in to join the fray and Solona quickly cast a spell of weakening, the Templar stumbling as his knees nearly gave out from under him and took the moment of his shocked state to draw on his life energy, stealing more of his resolve to continue the fight.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye and she turned in time to see a flash of silver. Pain bloomed in her shoulder and she staggered backward totally silent, the blade that had stabbed her gleaming red in the dimming light. The Templar struck again, meeting her staff, but even though the blow didn't draw blood she could feel her connection to the Fade draining away with every strike. It dawned on her then: This was utterly hopeless. They would probably die here in the middle of some forest; a maleficar and her supposed blood thralls.

Aedan and Keran were struggling on the front of the battle. The one that Keran had downed was dead, his sword taken up by the other whose arm Aedan had crunched was wielding the dead man's shorter sword in his good hand. Two archers had made themselves apparent, one on the far edge of the fight and fired off an arrow that hit Aedan's shield with a ping, the other daring a shot into the middle of the scuffle. His gamble paid off, and the arrow buried its head into Aedan's shoulder though a chink in his armor. The one awkwardly wielding a sword took the advantage presented and slid his blade into the soft flesh of Aedan's side, causing the man to double over the wound in pain, hot blood pouring out of the deep cut and down his side.

Solona screamed something, she wasn't entirely sure if it was his name or a denial as she watched him collapse, shoved to his knees by the Templar who'd done him the injury. Keran tried to defend Aedan, going for the legs but was stopped when the second shield-bearing Templar hit him with his shield in the side hard enough to get the mabari hound staggering backward with a cry of pain.

The dual wielding templar facing her laughed, cocking his arm back to deliver the killing blow on Solona, who had all but dropped her staff as the hopelessness of the situation began to consumer her. "Time to meet the Maker, apostate." His eyes were hard, almost cruel and filled with far too much enjoyment at the thought of seeing a mage die at his hands.

She dug her fingers into her wound, the pain bringing her back to the here and now. "No." She hissed, feeling the pull to use the power inherent in her blood. She could feel it's dark seduction, the call to protect herself from death growing stronger with each pulse of her rapidly beating heart. She wanted to live.

The Templar seemed confused at the confident denial. His eyes flicked to the bloody wound that he'd inflicted in her shoulder, and he realized too late what was happening. He tried to stab her through the heart and end it before she could perform the spell but was suddenly knocked off of his feet as power almost literally exploded from her small form, blood seeming to make a protective barrier around her.

She could feel the ebb and flow of life, the beating hearts of those around her. Without looking she reached out and clenched her fist where she felt the hammering heart of the nearest templar pounding. He cried out in pain when his heart stuttered, blood ceasing to flow and then he collapsed. Seeing the display of power the other Templars attacking Aedan and Keran stopped what they were doing, looking at her with a mixture of fear and disgust.

Power whispered in her ear, and she sought out the flow of their blood. Pain lanced through her entire being when she cast the spell that came unbidden to her mind and the Templars froze where they stood, unable to move once they'd become part of her spell and silently writhing in pain as their blood boiled in their veins. The two archers aimed and started firing; one shot a near miss and the other inflicting a deep wound in her leg. Drawing on her own life force she froze one solid and the other simply collapsed when the strength in his body failed him.

"Stop there maleficar!" Solona's gaze whipped around to see that one Templar still stood, glowing vial of blood at his hip and a sword in hand, holding Aedan by his hair with his neck exposed, blade resting on the unprotected flesh. She wasn't sure if Aedan was still conscious or not, his thread of life was ebbing so slowly in comparison to the bigger Templar.

"Put him down." She said in a soft deadly voice that promised bad things for the Templar if he didn't comply. His companions were either twitching in pain or otherwise disabled. He was alone, but so was she. Keran was nearby but refused to move, favoring his right forepaw and growling at the Templar, baring his teeth at the man. She could feel both of their lives connected to hers, the slow sluggish pulse of Aedan and the adrenalin spiked racing of Keran's blood.

"You've nowhere to go but death, maleficar. Give yourself up now and your precious thrall will live beyond you." The Templar was dead serious; thinking rightly that the mage wouldn't be at all pleased if the man or his dog died if she could prevent it.

She almost complied, almost let the throbbing power of her own blood go, but the whisper was convincing in her ear.

"I know things. Old things. Old magic that would make you powerful even when the Templars take the Fade from you."

"You will not take another life from me." The Templar tensed as Solona forced her will on the man and felt power rush into her at the same time. A clash of wills so powerful that it was nearly visible ensued. His defenses were considerable, years upon years of Chantry training and belief in the Divine steeling his resolve not to be possessed. But she was desperate, angry, and deadly afraid of dying.

His will gave way, shattering like so much glass and scattering before her, and she latched onto his consciousness. "Now you'll kill the other Templars here, and then yourself."

-0-0-0-

Aedan woke with his head throbbing, still covered in blood and feeling like he'd been punched on every conceivable part of his body. What's more he was bone weary, feeling every day that they'd been running in this Maker damned forest all at once. He sat up and looked himself over. All of his armor had been taken off, the last of the mangled and blood splattered pieces piled up at his side. His clothes were stained with blood and sweat still, but there didn't appear to be any open wounds on his body that he could immediately see. Bumps and bruises and a fair number of scratches, but no bleeding wounds.

At his side, Keran groaned, looking up from the task of licking himself clean off the gore that the battle had left on his muzzle and body. The mabari licked Aedan's face once then gazed at the fire for a moment before returning to licking himself. Aedan was surprised to see that there was a fire at all, and wondered if maybe the Templars had taken him captive… Which would mean that Solona was dead. His heart sank at the thought, and he looked around to try and figure out what was going on.

What he saw definitely wasn't the result of being taken in by Templars. He was still near the cliff that they'd fought by, the metal armor of the Templars gleaming in the light cast by the fire. They were scattered around, the one closest to him seeming to have had his throat slit, a dark pool of blood gathered around him in the grass and leaves. He counted the bodies and quickly deduced that all of the ones that had come after them were dead. He moved to stand and quickly abandoned the idea when a bout of dizziness overcame him, remaining on the ground and continued to look around.

The last thing he remembered was the Templar whose arm he'd broken standing over him, ready to deliver the final blow. What had happened after he'd blacked out? Was it even possible that Solona had managed to wreak such destruction on her own after he'd been cut out of the battle?

His gaze stopped wandering when he saw a small form huddled across the fire from him, and immediately he knew it was Solona from the color of her hair. She had her face buried against her knees, arms wrapped around her shins. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping or crying. "Solona?"

Her gaze suddenly snapped up, and he could see that her face was spattered with blood, her shoulder absolutely soaked with it. She'd been crying, it was easy enough to tell even in the uncertain light of the fire. Hastily, the mage wiped at her face, looking absolutely miserable. "Sorry." She breathed in a shaky voice and sniffed. "I didn't know you were awake already. It's the middle of the night."

He took a moment to look her over, wondering what had happened to put her in such a state. Was she that distressed that they'd both nearly died, or relieved that it was finally over? A glass vial sat next to her foot, empty save for air. "It's alright, you didn't wake me. What happened?"

Immediately her expression became guarded and solemn and she bit her lip. "I killed them." She replied, gesturing with one hand toward the carnage that surrounded them. "All of them. I just got so… angry and-" She stopped, her throat closing off because of the emotion that was threatening to choke her as tears clouded her eyes.

Aedan got to his feet despite the wave of dizziness and groaning muscles that begged him to sit back down. He stood at her side momentarily then slowly knelt, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's over Solona, your running is done."

He was suddenly caught up in a massive hug, the slight mage having thrown her arms around him and buried her face against his chest, sobbing heartily. At first he wasn't entirely sure what to do with the crying woman, then let his arms fall around her shoulders and let her cry as long as she needed to.

A/N: Alright, so, this chapter displays what I'm going to refer to as the Jowan-Effect.

The Jowan-Effect:When a mage uses blood magic in public for the first time against an enemy and somehow proves to have mind-boggling powers, despite the apparent weakness of the mage. However, after this first-time use, the mage reverts to being useless with blood magic, and has to re-learn all those awesome super mega powers that can fell a swath of Templars with one violently bleeding wound.

There really is no other way to explain it! I mean, if Jowan can down the First Enchanter, the Knight Commander, and a handful of other Templars and then managed to get himself across the lake somehow, then how is it that he can't take out Redcliffe's guards and run for the hills? It can be argued that he finally grew a conscience and a spine, but there's only so much torture a man can take before he breaks, and apparently Isolde had him tortured quite a bit when Connor started going nuts. You'd think that he'd use his blood magic to knock them all out and break loose rather than continuing to endure that. Death is still death, whether via Templar or an angry Arlessa, and last I checked he wasn't a fan of being locked up.

Also, I hope that you guys like my M!Mahariel as much as I do. He's such a fun bundle or rage to write. Now, why did I choose M!Mahariel instead of F!Mahariel or one of the dwarf origins? Because M!Mahariel gets no love. There are a scattering of F!MaharielxAlistair/Zevran scattered around the ffnet, but a male version is practically unheard of. Further more, if you're looking for some Aeducan/Brosca action, I highly suggest you go to deviantArt and check out the artist *aimo. She's got some awesome F!AeducanxAlistair going on over there, and it's really worth a look if you don't mind the height difference.