(dierdreaes: You're not the only one that feels that way about Felicity as an Arcane Warrior. Honestly, I kind of wish I'd thought of it before I had most of the story plotted... instead, Felicity's character decided to go in a completely different direction. I wouldn't count her out as "pointless," though. Combat ability does not necessarily equate to usefulness... just look at Finian, who is arguably the weakest fighter after Felicity. Ah, well. Hopefully this chapter will help illustrate her development a bit.

Also: sorry, Seredine.)

55. The Cavalry Arrives

Contrary to popular belief, Sloth Demons were not, in fact, particularly lazy.

In fact, they were masters of deceit, more than willing to expound a great amount of effort to trap and ensnare their victims. They fed upon doubt and depression, wringing every last bit of willpower from their victims through means that were often insidious and frightfully effective.

However, as far as demons went, they were not particularly spiteful. Felicity would even hazard to say that they were the most reasonable of the demonic archetypes, and sought to sustain themselves in a way that was efficient, rather than to seed destruction and chaos.

It was with this in mind that Felicity, upon overhearing her companions' downfalls, had approached the demon. For this reason, she had been able to talk it out of immediately entrapping her, as her suggestion of ensuring that its feeding sources remained accessible seemed to intrigue it—although she suspected a certain long-acquired… resistance to mental intrusion… played a part in keeping her upright long enough to lay out her intentions.

Thus, Felicity made a deal with the Sloth Demon … she would not interfere with its business and would ensure that all its current living victims remained alive for it to continue feeding on. In return, she would remain awake and in possession of all her faculties, so that she could best perform the task.

It wasn't the first Fade creature she'd encountered face-to-face, and perhaps that was what allowed her to phrase her suggestion in the correct way. Even so, dealing with a demon raised all sorts of internal alarms. Was proximity alone enough to corrupt her soul? What if the creature asked more of her; how much of herself was she willing to sell, to save her companions? It was a quandary she'd only faced once before, when she was little more than a child playing with forces outside her understanding.

Back then, that protective instinct had cost her freedom and family. This time, it may just cost her soul.

For what must have been days, now, Felicity had stood above the bodies of her companions and Niall, keeping them watered and comfortable while they slept fitfully. She wished that she could merely shake them and awaken them, but she knew enough about this sort of magic to know that their spirits were elsewhere, and could not be drawn back until the demon released them.

And so she could only bide her time, trying to calculate how long it would be until the Right of Annulment arrived. It was a futile exercise, since she didn't know when it had been sent for, nor was there an easy way to tell the passing of the days from within the shuttered Tower without the regular tolling of the meal bells. Still, it was better than worrying… about her friends, about Irving, about Cullen… no, far better she keep her mind occupied.

Now, she surreptitiously checked over her shoulder to make sure that the demon was occupied. As usual, the creature was in its own world—or, more likely, in the Fade. It rarely stirred and spoke to her, and only then to ask her curious questions about her friends in the manner of an alien spirit attempting to understand the mortal mind. Why did the priestess conceal its true nature? Why was the dwarf afraid of its sibling? Why did the old woman so easily accept a spirit, but so scorn demons? Felicity could answer none of these questions, though her mind keened with curiosity with each minor revelation.

Satisfied that the demon was currently oblivious to the plane, she knelt beside Niall's sleeping form again. She had not known the older mage all that well back in the Tower; he had been too brash for her sensibilities, though she'd never had any real quarrel with him. Still, his habit of acting too quickly had apparently worked to their advantage, because, the first day, Felicity had discovered something of interest on a parchment stuffed hastily in the mage's pocket.

The Litany of Adralla was the sort of thing that Felicity had only read about. Had Niall not scrawled its name in the upper left-hand corner of the page, Felicity might have thought it merely a particularly fervent prayer. But, now that she'd had time to study it, she recognized the magic in the words: the symbolic power invested in the stanzas that bolstered the willpower. Combined with proper application of magic, it would be quite effective indeed against the mind-control effects typical of blood mages.

She had spent the last few days memorizing the words, making certain she got it exactly right, should she need it. Now, the Litany was scorched into her mind, for the most part memorized in its entirety… however, 'for the most part' would not suffice. She needed to know this, like she had never known anything before.

Something crashed outside the hall, and Felicity hastily hid the parchment back in Niall's pocket. She had seen a good share of abominations and blood mages milling about these last days (it was a state that had her constantly on edge), but the presence of the Sloth Demon seemed to warn them off from doing anything to her. She was under its protection, and that thought made her shudder in fear at the implications.

Still, this was how it had to be. Otherwise, her companions would not have survived this long under the demon's magical sleep. Not physically, anyway, though she could not say anything about their mental states.

There was another sound—a shout—and Felicity registered it as coming from through the hall's entrance door. Her heart started pounding as she recognized the voice. She glanced at the Sloth Demon, who hadn't stirred.

Hurriedly, she stood and went to the door. She could hear them now, their heavy footsteps pounding through the corridors, getting closer. She slipped out the door and into the hall. As soon as she had shut the door behind her, she was tackled to the ground by a huge mabari hound and promptly smothered in smelly dog tongue.

Two armored figures pounded up behind Hugo, and Alistair barely stopped himself from beheading Felicity. His jaw went slack and his sword fell to the ground. "Felicity? You're alright!"

Percy, however, thrust out his shield to block Alistair from reaching out to her. Then, his sword swung down so that the tip was an inch from her eye in obvious threat. His eyes were hot, but his voice was cold. "What manner of abomination are you?"

Felicity, despite the noble's hostility, couldn't quell her relief at seeing the two warriors. "I'm not one, though I don't blame you for thinking so. Honestly, Alistair, you're a Templar breaking into a tower held by demons and blood mages… suspecting demonic possession should by all rights have been your first instinct, not his!"

Percy blinked and lowered his sword, and Alistair chuckled, "You are Felicity."

"How are you here, unhurt?" Percy asked, shooing Hugo off her. She gladly accepted their help in standing.

"There's a Sloth Demon in the next room. It found me more useful awake than ensnared in the Fade with the others, and so here I've been, biding my time."

"A Sloth Demon?" Alistair hissed, lowering his voice. "Did it hurt you? Has it tried to possess you?"

Felicity shushed him, though she couldn't stamp down the warm feeling in her chest that his questions were out of concern for her.

Percy's question, however, was not. "What do you mean, the others are ensnared in the Fade?"

And so, quietly and as succinctly as possible, Felicity told them about what had happened, and what manner of creature they were dealing with. "And if you walk in there," Felicity finished, "it will most likely merely pull you into the Fade as well."

Percival made a low growling noise. "Then how can we hope to beat it?"

Alistair, however, studied Felicity. He favored her with a knowing smirk. "You have a plan, don't you?"

Felicity felt her face warm, though not unpleasantly so. Alistair had such faith in her, it seemed. "You didn't think that I spent the last days playing nursemaid without studying the way the magic works, now did you?"

He chuckled. "You'd have to have studied something, or else you'd have gone mad."

"I have a very curious mind," she admitted with a smile, feeling lighter than she had in days as she looked up into those laughing eyes. Alistair was here… with his help, they could fix this.

Percival cleared his throat, and whatever spell they'd been caught in broke as they recalled their situation. At least Alistair looked as discomfited by Percival's knowing expression as she was. "So, what, exactly, is your plan?"

"Well, the demon spends most of its time in the Fade, while keeping a manifestation here by feeding off the sleepers. Meanwhile, it feeds off the psychic energies of its victims in the Fade, likely all kept in its own realm. There is no guarantee that defeating its manifestation here will break its hold on the sleepers. However, if someone were to be pulled into the Fade, but stay in possession of their faculties, they could confront the demon there, breaking its hold on its victims. The demon will be banished and the sleepers will awaken unharmed."

"All of this assuming, of course," Percival said flatly, "that we can resist the demon's spell in the first place."

"It is hardly simple, but I have deduced some means. I've discovered a litany—a spell—that wards off mind-control effects. Altering that into a ritual may protect someone from such things in such a subjective realm as the Fade, where willpower is so powerful. I had initially expected that I would be the one who had to go plunging in alone, but now that you are here…." Felicity paused, realizing that this, in itself, was no mere boon. "Why are you here? Should you not be in Redcliffe?"

The men exchanged a look. Alistair cleared his throat. "They're… having a couple demon problems themselves. Let's just say that, if your ritual requires lyrium, we should be sure to save some. They'll need it at Redcliffe."

Felicity's heart fell at such news. "It does. And that's awful news." Both men nodded solemnly, and Felicity made a mental note to ask them more about it later. "Speaking of the lyrium, that's the main reason I haven't been able to do the ritual before now. It needs raw lyrium, which is kept in a cache in the storage tunnels. I don't have access to them while I must remain near the Sloth Demon, but as it is not yet aware of you two, you'll be free to go fetch it. Bring me about five pounds, and I'll be able to cast a ritual strong enough for all three of us."

Percival and Alistair nodded their understanding. "Where are the tunnels?" Percy asked.

"The second floor. There's an entrance to a staircase there… though it's usually locked." She frowned, well aware than neither man owned a lockpick, much less knew how to use one. Then, Felicity snapped her fingers as realization dawned. "The Senior Enchanters were provided with keys."

Swiftly, she ducked back into the main room, once again checking to make sure that the Sloth Demon remained unaware of its surroundings. She skirted carefully around it, not wishing to startle it awake by approaching. When she reached the pallets where she'd laid out the others, she knelt next to Wynne and started digging through her former mentor's pockets. She winced as she did so, well imagining what sort of stern lecture the elder mage might have for her regarding proper respect of the privacy of the helpless.

Then again, Wynne was a practical woman. Perhaps she would have approved of Felicity's actions during this whole ordeal, though that was very doubtful.

Finally, her fingers closed over a keyring, and she slipped it into her own pocket and stood. As she started back toward the door, however, the demon's smooth, curling voice spoke.

"You grow restless," the Sloth Demon purred. "Perhaps a bit of rest might do you some good?"

Felicity could feel the demon's tendrils seeping lethargically into her mind, but she wrapped her willpower around herself and resisted. The tendrils retreated. "I am restless because I worry about my friends. You are not being cruel to them, I hope?"

"Cruelty is such a… strange concept. So nebulous. Undefined. I do not force them to stay as they are… I offer them places to do so, and they remain on their own. Is that your definition of cruelty, mortal?" It sounded genuinely curious, honestly thoughtful.

Felicity had to bite her tongue not to quibble. She had a deal to upkeep, at least for a little while longer. "If their minds are their own, that is all I can ask."

The Sloth Demon hummed thoughtfully. "What a silly concept… their minds were mine as soon as they entered my realm. Just as yours could be, if you wish." And then its alertness retreated again. Felicity remained where she was for several minutes, just to make sure the demon was completely unaware of its surroundings. Then, carefully, she crossed to the door.

Alistair and Percival were waiting for her on the other side, both pale.

"What do you suppose it's doing to them?" Alistair whispered, eyes flickering toward the door into the corrupted chamber.

Felicity shook her head and thrust the keyring into his hand. "I don't want to think about it. Here. Get me five pounds of lyrium, and hurry. I'll prepare the ritual… we need to perform it as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Percy growled, his eyes narrow. "We'll make that monster feel every minute of pain it might have inflicted on our allies."

Felicity nodded, though something about Percy unnerved her when he spoke like that. Alistair seemed to sense it, for he laid a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Five pounds of lyrium coming right up." His sideways smile made her trepidation evaporate. "You're lucky I'm not a full Templar, you know, or else I'd probably take all that lyrium for myself and run."

In her relief, Felicity's chuckle sounded a bit too much like a giggle. "As if you could abandon your fellow Wardens, crippling addiction or not. You'd probably thrust it into my hands regardless, right before you keeled over and went into a withdrawal seizure."

Alistair's grin grew wide and warm, and something sparkled in his eyes. "That is possibly the best way anyone has ever described my painful demise." His hand squeezed her shoulder again, and their eyes locked as sincerity thickened his voice. "Thank you for saying that."

Felicity only smiled, because there was nothing for him to be grateful for. When he smiled at her like that, she should be thanking him. "It's only the truth. If you enjoy hearing it so much, perhaps I should describe your possible painful demises more often."

His free hand reached up, and his thumb reached up to stroke her jawline, and her heart soared. His chuckle was gentle and soothing, warming her blood. His eyes sparkled, clear and warm; she couldn't seem to look away. "You know," he said softly, "I don't think I'd mind that."

She tried to summon up some sort of teasing response, but her head seemed to be full of cotton. His hand on her shoulder was a supportive weight, a promise of a strong shield arm that she had certainly taken advantage of more than once. Meanwhile, the hand at her jaw was gentle, his thumb running idly along her skin with all the delicate care one would give to fine porcelain. It made her feel… cherished. Cared for. Protected.

It was something she hadn't felt since Cullen. Cullen, who had regarded her with much the same warmth as Alistair now did, and it suddenly seemed she was looking up into her former beau's eyes instead of her fellow Warden's.

Abruptly, she backed away, and she didn't miss the flash of confusion and hurt that crossed Alistair's face as she did so.

"I really am counting on you two," Felicity said quickly, turning to Percival so she didn't have to see that expression on Alistair's face. The nobleman's face was impassive. "Be back as quickly as possible. There's no saying how long we have until the Templars invoke the Right of Annulment."

"Yes, the Knight-Commander mentioned something about that," Percy said with a nod. "We'll do our best not to let you become a splatter on the Tower floor." The noble turned and started back toward the stairs down. "Hugo. Alistair. Come."

The dog immediately fell into step behind the nobleman, but the ex-Templar lingered, looking at her.

"Felicity, I'm…"

"You've got nothing to apologize for," she said firmly. She dared to step up to him and pressed a hand to his cheek, marveling at the roughness of his stubble. "We'll have plenty of time to speak. Later. For now, I think our minds should be focused on saving our companions, don't you agree?"

After a brief hesitation, he nodded. "Later, then." Then, that smirk flitted across his features. "It's a bit unnerving, you know, when you read me like a book."

"Well, you do leave yourself open for it." She stepped back, feeling better again. "At least you're an interesting one."

"You're not half boring yourself, you know." He winked and turned to follow Percy, and Felicity was glad that he'd turned away, before her blush had completely consumed her to the tips of her ears. Alistair was sweet, but he would never have let her live it down.