A/N: New chapter, actually on time. Well, it's right at the end of Monday, but close enough! Hope everyone enjoys :)
Thanks to those who have read, favorited, and followed the story. Glad to see you're interested!
Special thanks go to my faithful and awesome reviewers, Akakoken, The Cynical Prince, Candle in the Night, and WolFang1011. You guys are seriously amazing! I would also love to hear from everybody else :).
GIFT FIC TO 200TH REVIEWER SO PLEASE REVIEW EVERYONE!
Note: There is some torture in this one, so if this really isn't your thing, please don't read at the point where Alistair and Aedan are in the prison. It will be fairly obvious when you get to that point, so just skip over it if need be.
And just to leave you with a line from a song that seemed to fit this chapter perfectly: Is this blood on my hands all for you?
Disclaimer: Don't own Dragon Age, etc. Do own this story and Ayla.
Chapter 46: All For You
There was only once in her life that Ayla had ever been as distraught as she was now. This time, it was almost worse, because she knew exactly what the tortured body of a loved one could look like. All she could think of as she led the others back to Eamon's estate through the dark night was finding Alistair's body in the condition her father's had once been in. The nightmare images of Alistair, twisted and mangled, kept swimming through her brain until she thought she might be sick. If she found him like that, if he wasn't alive when she got to him, it would break her, she was certain of it.
What was even worse was that she had let them take him from her. He was her love, her mate, her life and she had allowed them to take him away without even putting up a fight. It didn't matter that he had asked her to; it didn't stop the guilt that she was feeling.
The only reasons she had agreed, in the end, had been because of what Aedan had said and the way he had said it; her father had given her an almost identical order once, and had later told her that she had to be a soldier first, before she was his daughter. She had almost been able to hear his voice telling her to likewise be a soldier first before she was Alistair's lover, no matter how it might hurt her. She had also seen the pleading desperation in Aedan's eyes as he had looked to Morrigan and back to her, and had known he was asking her to get Morrigan out safely as well. It was for those reasons that she had agreed, and what Zevran had said to her had only solidified her resolve at the time; that if their positions were reversed, she would want Alistair to go when she asked.
None of that was making her feel any better right now, however. Her emotions kept wavering between rage, grief, despair, and guilt, and it was all she could do to keep them in control, to not lose her tenuous grasp on her humanity right now. She needed to keep a level head, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time as she struggled to breathe evenly; she needed to be able to help everyone come up with a plan to rescue them both.
She would do whatever it took to get him back, she vowed to herself as they finally arrived at Eamon's estate. She would shed as much blood as was necessary and kill whoever stood in her way.
The guards at the gate recognized her, Morrigan, and Zevran when they arrived and waved them through, as did the guards at the door. Most of the household was sleeping when they entered, but when a servant passed by, Ayla demanded that she wake up the Arl and tell him it was an emergency.
They met the Arl, tired and bewildered-looking as he was, in his study moments later. Anora had removed her helmet, and exclaimed as soon as the Arl entered the room, "Eamon, we have a problem!"
"We have more than one, I think," Morrigan snapped, glaring at the queen. She was as unhappy as Ayla was with the whole situation, Ayla knew, though Morrigan was probably better at hiding it. Her own hands were shaking with the effort to keep her emotions in check, now that they were all safely back at Eamon's estate, while Aedan and Alistair were not.
"Calm down," the Arl was saying, still looking incredibly confused as he stood there in the study, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "What has happened?"
"The Wardens have been captured," Anora explained quickly, looking, to her credit, as anxious as everyone else was.
Eamon's eyebrows shot up as he stared at her in horror, before getting a better look at everyone in the study, as though only just realizing that two of them were missing. "What? How could this happen?"
"Never mind that," Anora waved the question off as though it were unimportant. "The question is how to free him!"
The Arl frowned as he studied her, asking, "Surely you mean them, your Highness? We need Alistair, too."
"Yes," the queen agreed hastily. "Of course I meant Alistair, too."
"You bloody well better have," Ayla snarled, furious because she suspected that Anora really only cared if Aedan got back safely. She didn't care if Anora and Aedan had once been friends, or if Anora saw Alistair as a threat; that didn't excuse the queen's callous disregard for the danger that Alistair faced. Not to mention, Anora was the reason that all this had happened; if they hadn't gone into Howe's estate to save her, Ayla would be in bed with Alistair right now, instead of wondering if she would ever see him alive again. "If we don't get Alistair back safely, too, then Ferelden will find itself without a queen!"
"Excuse me?" Anora demanded, looking affronted as she met Ayla's furious gaze. "How dare you threaten me? Just who are you, anyway?"
"How dare I?" Ayla growled, incensed, feeling her control over her anger slipping as it was brought to the forefront of her roiling emotions. She was reaching for her swords when Zevran stepped between them, laying a hand on her arm and shaking his head at her.
"Calm down, my dear," he said softly. "You should save your energy for rescuing your Warden, no? He needs you," he added significantly, when she didn't immediately drop her stance.
He needs me. She took a deep, steadying breath, dropping her hands away from her swords as she remembered what Alistair had said about waiting for her to come get him. Zevran was right; fighting with Anora wouldn't get her anywhere, as much as she might blame the woman for being the reason that Aedan and Alistair had been captured. She needed to focus on getting them back. She shook her head for a moment, trying to clear it, before looking up and asking, "What's the plan? Where would that Cauthrien take them?"
Arl Eamon regarded her quietly for a moment, and Anora was glaring at her, though she wisely didn't say anything further, before the Arl at last shook his head, replying, "I am not certain. Perhaps to the castle, or Loghain's own estate, or possibly to Fort Drakon. There are any number of dungeons where Loghain could hold them."
"'Tis fortunate, then, that I know exactly how to find Aedan," Morrigan stated coolly, ignoring the surprised glance Anora sent her way. "I gifted him with a magical ring that can be used to track his location, for just such an occasion." She invoked a short spell, her eyes glowing as she seemed to reflect inward, before declaring, "They have stopped moving. He is . . . southwest of here."
"Southwest . . ." Eamon said slowly. "They have taken them to Fort Drakon, then." He did not look pleased at the prospect.
"So let's go to this fort and get them out," Ayla said impatiently. The more time they wasted talking, the more danger both Wardens were in.
"It is not that simple," Anora informed her scornfully. "Fort Drakon is one of the most well-defended buildings in all of Ferelden. It will not be as easy as it was to break in to Howe's estate."
"She is right," the Arl agreed heavily. "But neither can we leave them there, of course. I suggest that we all get some rest for now, as it has been a very long day for you all, and we will solidify our plans in the morning."
"In the morning?" Ayla stared incredulously at him. Did anyone honestly expect her to get any sleep while Alistair was in danger? "We need to go right now!"
Arl Eamon shook his head firmly. "I understand you are worried about them; I am too. But it will not do them any good for you to race in there, exhausted, without a proper plan or preparations."
"As loath as I am to admit it, he is right, sister," Morrigan said quietly, her golden eyes intense as she met Ayla's, the same worry and grief she felt reflected back at her. "I need rest to recover my magic and some time to make more lyrium and health potions. We will have to go in the morning, though neither of us wishes to wait."
"Fine!" Ayla snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration before storming out of the study, unable to look at any of them anymore, and up to her room. She knew they were right, just as Alistair and Aedan had been back at Howe's estate; that didn't mean she had to be happy about it, though.
Zevran entered her room a few moments later, Wynne right behind him, just as she threw a chair at the wall by the door. It didn't break the way she'd hoped it would; she'd hoped for another satisfying crash like all the vases, plates and other breakable things she'd already thrown around the room. The sturdy chair merely bounced off the wall and landed on the floor.
Wynne looked mildly appalled, but Zevran merely raised an eyebrow at her. "You need to rest, my dear, not destroy your room," he told her calmly.
"How am I supposed to rest, Zev, when he isn't here?" she demanded, her voice cracking at the end. She shook her head furiously before throwing her last dagger at one of the posts on the bed, where it stuck fast.
"That is why I brought our lovely Circle mage," Zevran explained, gesturing to Wynne. "She has a sleeping potion that will give you the rest you need before we leave tomorrow. It will not do your Warden any good if you fall prey to exhaustion on your way to rescue him, you know," he finished firmly when she started to shake her head.
"And for once, he is actually making perfect sense," Wynne said, stepping gingerly around the destruction in the room as she handed Ayla a vial. "This will give you a dreamless, restful sleep. You will not have any nightmares, I promise you."
Ayla took the vial doubtfully. She did need to sleep, she knew that. She was exhausted, and if she needed to shift while trying to rescue them, she wouldn't be able to manage it right now. But she felt more guilty than she could express about being able to sleep soundly while Alistair and Aedan were likely being tortured at this very moment.
"We will get them out," Zevran assured her, his expression as serious and sincere as she had ever seen it. "I will go consult our fair bard right now, and I am certain, between the two of us, we will come up with a way to get in there with relative ease. Assassins, after all, are experts on getting into places we are not supposed to."
"Do you promise?" she asked him quietly, staring searchingly at him. Make me believe it, she pleaded silently.
He bowed to her, hand over heart. "I swear it to you, on the debt I owe you, on the life you gave me back."
Hearing that promise, seeing the conviction in his eyes, she couldn't help but believe him, and that made her the calmest she had been since they had been at Howe's estate. "Thank you, Zev." She hugged him tightly, impulsively, and though it wasn't the same as being in Alistair's arms, she did feel better.
"You are most welcome, my dear." He returned the embrace before kissing her gently on the cheek and leaving the room, calling, "Get some rest," over his shoulder.
"You're positive this will work?" Ayla asked Wynne, crossing over to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it, before holding up the vial in question.
"It will." Wynne nodded with certainty. "I have given it to others who were too worked up or nervous to sleep before. It has never failed yet." The mage turned towards the door to follow Zevran before hesitating and turning back. "I wanted to let you know – I was wrong before, about you and Alistair. He is genuinely happy with you, more relaxed and less guarded than he has ever been, as I can see that you are with him. Go get him back, so I can wish you luck on your continued relationship." She smiled slightly, leaving and closing the door before Ayla could thank her.
Ayla glanced down at the potion in her hands, still debating as to whether or not she should use it, but then another vision of what she might find when she went to get Alistair passed through her mind and decided her. She downed the vial before she could think about it anymore, and took the blank void that it offered.
"Well, this place certainly looks pleasant," Alistair commented sarcastically after they'd been tossed into a cell. They had been led deep into the heart of Fort Drakon, stripped of their borrowed armor and cotton underclothes and left only with their smallclothes before being locked up in the cell. It was made of strong steel bars that were spaced only far enough apart for a slender arm to fit through, but was otherwise open floor to ceiling so they could see everything else in the large room; all the other cells full of prisoners and the stairs that led down into a pit in the center of the room, from which tortured cries rang. At least they couldn't see what was actually going on in the pit, though they could hear it, and Alistair wasn't sure which was worse. The echoes off the stone walls were horrible.
"Yes, Fort Drakon is well known for its hospitality," Aedan agreed dryly. "I suspect we'll be getting the full benefit of it soon."
"Torture, huh? I think this is the one time I can honestly say I would prefer to be fighting darkspawn," Alistair answered as lightly as he could manage.
"You and me both. You know, my father once gave me some advice about withstanding torture," Aedan said, a far-away look in his eyes. "He got captured by the Orlesian army once during the rebellion and was imprisoned for a while before he got rescued. He said to try to go somewhere else in your mind while they're torturing you, to think about your happiest memories. He thought about my mother, he said." Aedan smiled wistfully as he finished, clearly thinking of his parents.
"I hope it worked, because it looks like we'll be able to put into practice." Alistair nodded towards the door of their cell, where four armed guards were approaching them. One went to unlock the door while two of the others held their swords at the ready, and the third kept a bow trained on them.
"So, these are the infamous Grey Wardens," the guard that had opened the door taunted them. He was a big, burly middle-aged man who was starting to go slightly to fat, sporting a bushy brown beard and hair that was starting to thin on top of his head. "You don't look so impressive to me. Do you want to confess to being traitors right now? We'll make things easier on you if you do."
"Give me my sword and fight me one-on-one, see how impressive you find me then," Aedan replied coolly, his silver eyes flashing fire.
"I won't confess to something that's nothing but a bunch of lies," Alistair added. There was nothing they could do to him that would make him call the Wardens traitors, he was certain of that much, at least.
"Oh, you want to be brave, do you?" The guard punched Aedan hard in the stomach, and he doubled over with a gasp, though he straightened up almost immediately, scowling at the guard. Alistair had moved to help, until he'd seen the bow draw tighter out of the corner of his eye and realized it would be pointless. He remained where he was instead as the guard continued, "Let's see how brave you two are when we're done with you. Now march!"
There was nothing for it but do as they were told; they marched ahead of the swords and the bow down into the pit, which was filled with piles of grotesque bodies, people on torture racks screaming, or others strung from wooden beams in the process of being whipped. They halted Alistair at one of the hooks hanging from a wooden beam attached crossways to another post, and with the bow carefully trained on him from a distance, chained his arms up above his head to the hook, leaving him stretched to the point that he couldn't fully put his feet down for balance. They led Aedan further down to do the same, while the bearded guard stayed in front of Alistair.
"Sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" the guard asked as he uncoiled a long, black whip with a metal barb on the end. "How the Wardens betrayed King Cailan? Where your troops are? What you planned to do next?"
"Oh, well, that last one I can tell you," Alistair replied in a tone of false cheerfulness, though he knew it was probably smarter to keep his mouth shut. He was too angry right now at the latest in a long line of accusations against the Wardens to stop himself, however. "We were going to go the Landsmeet and get the man who really betrayed King Cailan off the throne. You know, the one who left him to die on the battlefield?"
"Wrong answer," the guard growled, circling around behind Alistair.
"What, you mean the truth –" Alistair stopped abruptly as the whip cracked across his back, creating a white-hot explosion of pain that he instinctively tried to move forward from, but he couldn't get anywhere, chained as he was. Instead, he stumbled to keep his balance on his toes as the second lash hit him almost immediately after. He gritted his teeth, keeping his mouth shut against the cry of pain that wanted to emerge. He refused to give them the satisfaction.
"What, no more smart answers?" the guard demanded, striking him again, grunting with the effort of the blow. "Why don't you tell me more of your Warden lies, huh?"
Alistair ignored him, bracing himself against the blows and keeping his mouth shut tight as he remembered what Aedan had said. Go somewhere else, and think of happy memories. So he put all his focus into an internal reflection, similar to his Templar meditation, and thought of every happy memory he could.
Though it started out with some memories of Duncan and the other Wardens, nights drinking and telling stories and joking around, his mind eventually went to Ayla and stayed there. He thought of her when she was dancing, when she was singing. He remembered the way she looked with her lips swollen and her face flushed from his kiss, with her head tossed back and water dripping down her body in the river, or the way she looked with her back pressed to a tree, crying out his name. He thought of the way he felt when she'd been jealous, when she'd said she wanted only him, when she'd finally told him she loved him, when she said she wanted to stay with him. They were all his happiest, best memories, and he clung to them; somehow, it was surprisingly easy to ignore the pain of the lashes while he thought of her, and he soon lost track of how many times the whip had crossed his back.
In fact, he took little notice of what they were doing to him until the heated poker slammed into his side. The blinding agony of that was enough to shock his mind free of memories of Ayla, and he couldn't quite constrain the grunt of pain, either. He tried to regain his focus, but now that he had been shocked out of it, it was too hard to ignore the constant throbbing of his back, the steady trickle of blood down his legs, or the stabbing pain in his side. He was still, however, able to ignore the taunts of the guard as he stabbed him with another hot iron poker. He refused to respond, and somewhere around the fourth or fifth stab, his mind finally slipped into blissful unconsciousness from the pain and the blood loss.
When he woke up, it was to find himself facedown on a pile of straw on the cold, stone floor of their cell. His back was still a throbbing mass of pain, though it felt marginally better than before; his Warden healing abilities were probably already acting on the wounds. He struggled up to his knees, feeling the stabbing twinges along both sides of his torso from where the pokers had gone in. He was relieved to see Aedan sitting up a few feet away, awake, if pale and a little worse for the wear. He was facing Alistair, so he couldn't see how bad the damage to his Warden brother's back had been.
"Good, you're awake," Aedan smiled faintly, looking relieved. "Are . . . you all right?"
"Well, I've been worse," Alistair replied, shrugging, an action which he regretted immediately, as a renewed wave of agony washed over him. "Getting nearly eaten by a dragon comes to mind. How long was I out?"
"I'm not sure," Aedan admitted, wincing as he shifted a little. "I only woke up a few minutes ago myself. I was probably a little mouthier than I should have been, so they kept going until I passed out. There's food, though." He shoved a tray with a woeful looking piece of bread, a half-full bowl of mushy stew, and a cup of water over in Alistair's direction.
"What a coincidence. I was a little mouthy, myself," Alistair said wryly, pulling the food closer. It didn't look terribly appetizing, but his Warden appetite was making itself known; his stomach was almost painful in its hunger pangs, so he forced himself to eat it.
Aedan smirked. "Imagine that."
Alistair grinned in reply, studying the area outside their cell as he ate. There were no windows in this room, so it was impossible to tell whether it was night or day out right now. He couldn't see any guards nearby, and the cries of the tortured had quieted down for the moment, leading him to believe they'd gotten a momentary break. "So what's the plan, oh fearless leader?" he asked after swallowing his current mouthful of food.
"Wait for the others to get here," Aedan answered, turning his attention back to Alistair. He had also been carefully studying the area outside their cell. "In our current state, I don't think we'd get far trying to break out ourselves, and they've been pretty careful with us so far, even though we're unarmed. Heard enough stories about Wardens, I suppose. But if it's been as long as I think it has, then the others are likely already on their way here, if not in the building already. I almost pity any of the guards who try to stop them."
"Are you sure they're going to be able to find us this quickly?" Alistair had no doubt that the others would come to rescue them as fast as they could, but it wasn't like Cauthrien had announced where they were going.
"Yes, fortunately they didn't take my ring away," Aedan replied, holding up his right hand and tapping a ring of twisted wood wrapped around his middle finger. "Morrigan can use this to track me with magic, she said. So, they should know exactly where we are, even if Ayla couldn't track us."
Alistair raised his eyebrows. "Morrigan's got a magical locator ring on you? That's a little creepy."
Aedan shook his head, rolling his eyes. "It's not creepy, it's for a situation exactly like this, in case we got separated or captured."
"Uh-huh," Alistair said skeptically, though he grinned mischievously at Aedan when his fellow Warden glared at him. Secretly, he was grateful the witch had thought of such a thing; now he might be able to see Ayla and get out of here sooner than he'd thought.
It was maybe an hour or so later when something finally happened; it might have been longer than that, but it was hard for Alistair to tell. He and Aedan had been alternately talking in low voices or sitting silently when they could no longer think of anything to say, when suddenly the door on the other side of the room, the one through which they'd been brought in, opened.
Alistair had expected to see one or more of the guards; what he didn't expect was to see the bearded guard stumbling in backwards with a woman's arms around him. When the guard turned slightly to the side as he passionately kissed the woman he held, Alistair nearly cried out in shock as he got a better look at who it was. He'd know that tumble of flaming hair anywhere, even if he couldn't get a good look at her face right now. He shot to his feet, not even noticing the pain as jealous fury boiled through him.
He knew what she was doing, that it was a distraction; of course he knew. But still, that guard's hands – and mouth – were on her and that was all he could see right now, all he could think of. He knew other men had kissed her before him, but it was one thing to know it and another thing entirely to see it, even if he knew she wasn't doing it for pleasure, but only so she could free him. He clenched his fists, taking steadying breaths, wanting to kill that guard for even daring to touch her.
"Don't do anything stupid, Alistair," Aedan murmured in his ear, having joined him at the wall of the cell facing the door to watch what was going on. "It's just part of her plan." Even as he said it, another guard came backing into the room, followed by Morrigan, who swung the door shut behind her even as she advanced on the other guard, her hips swinging seductively.
For the first time since Alistair had met Morrigan, she wasn't wearing her clothes from the Wilds, but rather a tight red dress similar to the blue one Ayla wore, both dresses only reaching to mid-thigh, low-cut, and leaving absolutely nothing of either women's curves to the imagination. Her hair, too, was loose for once, spilling over her shoulders and swinging behind her back as she reached the guard, draping her arms around his neck. Alistair heard Aedan suck in a breath of surprise next to him as the witch pressed her body to the guard's.
Alistair quickly turned his attention back to Ayla; he was just in time to see her slip a dagger out from the garter belt underneath her skirt, never missing a beat in kissing the guard as she snaked her arm behind his back and thrust the dagger between his ribs. The guard stiffened, his back arching as blood spilled down it when she yanked the dagger out, before he slumped to the ground. Ayla knelt over him, slitting his throat as a finishing touch before tearing a scrap of cloth off the man's under-tunic to clean her hands and dagger with. Alistair found his jealousy somewhat mollified as she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before spitting on the floor by the guard's head and kicking him in the ribs for good measure.
At the same time as she had been doing that, Morrigan had used her magic to electrocute the guard she was with until he, too, collapsed to the ground. Morrigan then knelt down and began to search his body, as Ayla did with her guard. It was Ayla who came up with a ring of keys, however. "Here they are!" she declared triumphantly.
"Ayla, we're over here!" Alistair called in a low voice, knowing that she would hear him. Her head jerked up, and she spotted him almost immediately, her whole face lighting up when she did so. She was across the room in seconds, Morrigan close on her heels. She reached for his hands through the bars, and he took them eagerly, feeling the last of his jealousy melt away at her touch.
"Alistair, you're all right!" she cried, her whole face shining with relief and joy. He couldn't deny that she looked devastatingly gorgeous in that dress, he thought as he looked her over, incredibly relieved to see her, though he wasn't sure how he felt about her using it for the express purpose of seducing other men, even if it was to rescue him.
"Yeah, I'm all right, especially now," he replied, smiling at her, at the same moment as Morrigan prompted, "The keys, Ayla. We must let the fools out."
"Oh, of course." Ayla let go of Alistair's hands, hurrying around to the door on the front of their cell to try each key to get the door open, even as Aedan said, "Are you calling me a fool?"
He was smiling as he said it, Alistair noted, holding Morrigan's hands through the bars as he had been holding Ayla's, seemingly not at all offended by the term. Alistair had a good view of his back now, as he'd backed up from the wall and turned to face the door, not wanting Ayla to see his back. It was even worse than he'd thought it would be; a mass of red, bloody welts, skin hanging in strips here and there, the whole thing looking like one raw, open wound. Which, judging by how his back felt, meant his probably looked the same. No, he definitely couldn't let Ayla see this.
"Of course I am calling you a fool," Morrigan snapped, though her expression looked surprisingly soft as she did so. "You went and allowed yourself to be caught and tortured, did you not?"
"Only so nothing would happen to you and the others," Aedan replied. "And I would do it again."
"Exactly! You are a fool, Aedan Cousland, and I do not know why I put up with you," the witch retorted. She had yet to let go of Aedan's hands, however, Alistair realized.
"Oh, you don't? I do," Aedan murmured in a low voice, before whispering something to her that Alistair didn't catch, which he figured was probably just as well, judging by the light blush that spread across Morrigan's face right after.
It was at that moment that Ayla cried, "Found it!" and the door to the cell creaked open. She was through in the next second, and Alistair barely had time to brace himself before she flung herself into his arms. Even still, he staggered a little, being much weaker than he normally was. He didn't care, however, because he was holding her, the real thing, in his arms, not just thinking of his memories of her. She was here, and that was all that mattered, he thought, clutching her tightly to him as he buried his face in her hair, breathing deep of the flowery smell that he loved so much.
He might have kissed her next, though it wasn't really the best place or time for it, except her hands tightened on his back as she held him to her and he couldn't stifle the grunt of pain as the movement deepened one of the wounds there. Nor could he prevent the blood that he knew she could suddenly feel spilling onto her hands. She pulled away from him, looking at her hands in alarm, and then up at his face. "Alistair, what . . .?"
He was already backing away from her, hoping against hope that he could keep her from looking at his back. "It's nothing, I'm fine," he assured her hastily.
"Let me look at your back," she demanded, advancing on him even as he continued to back away.
"No, really, it's nothing –"
"Alistair!"
"Fine," he conceded, realizing how upset she was and that he had no hope of getting her to give up, and he halted where he was, allowing her to circle around to look at his back. Morrigan had followed her into the cell, and though Aedan had briefly tried to hide his back as well, she had turned him abruptly around to look at it. Alistair couldn't see her expression as her back was to him, now, but he could see her shoulders tighten, even as he heard Ayla gasp behind him.
He turned quickly to placate her, and her eyes lifted to meet his. The sheer horror on her face hurt him worse than anything they had done to him, especially when he saw the guilt flash through her eyes right after it. "Ayla, I'm fine –" he began, heart aching from the look on her face, but she cut him off.
"You are not fine!" she screamed at him, and he could see her eyes flash to that yellow color as she began to hyperventilate. "How dare they do this to you? Someone is going to die for this!"
Oh Maker, he thought, alarmed at the raw, snarling rage in her voice, the feral fury shining out of her eyes and on her face. He remembered the story she had told about losing control when the dragon had nearly killed him, and knew they couldn't afford to have the same thing happen here. He had to calm her down.
He took her hands in his, tightening his grip when she tried to shake him off, and he pressed one of her hands to his heart, knowing instinctively why she was reacting so badly. "Ayla, love," he said in a low, soothing tone, seeing her breathing start to slow almost immediately when she felt his heartbeat, "I'm alive. I'm alive, and I will be fine, I promise you. You can't lose control, okay? We need you – I need you – to get us out of here safely, and we can't do that if you're not in control. Please, love, calm down."
"He is right, Ayla," Morrigan agreed, though he could see fury burning deep in her gaze as well when she came up alongside him. "I can only heal them enough to keep them on their feet until we get back. They will not be at their full fighting strength, and I do not possess unlimited magic. We cannot have you lose control and shift, not right now, for we would not have a fighter on our way out."
"If you lost control, you could hurt us," Aedan added quietly. "You could hurt Alistair."
Alistair saw her start at that, her eyes widening, and the yellow color disappeared abruptly as she took several deep breaths. He frowned at Aedan, thinking he might have taken that a bit far, but it seemed to have worked, at any rate. She leaned in and smelled him deeply as if to reassure herself he was real, her hand still pressed to the beat of his heart, and he kissed the top of her head gently. "Let's get out of here," he whispered to her.
She nodded tightly. "Okay, we'll go. But I am going to come back and make everyone in here pay before I raze this place to the ground," she stated with dark promise in her voice. The deep rage in her eyes and the sheer conviction of her promise was a little alarming, Alistair had to admit. For the first time, he could see the side of her that would have tortured people for revenge in her father's name, and he didn't want her to give into that, not for his sake. He would talk her out of it later, he decided. Now wasn't the time to argue with her.
"I shall help you, when you do," Morrigan declared. "You may do the killing as you like, and I will bring the building down. Now," she continued, before Aedan could protest, as Alistair could see he was going to, "I will heal you as best I can, and we will get you some guard uniforms to disguise you. There is an armory just outside of this room."
So saying, she put one hand on each of their chests, her hands glowing blue, and Alistair felt the soothing warmth of the healing magic pass through him, concentrated mainly on his back. All too soon, however, she lifted her hands away, looking pale and wobbling slightly. Aedan hurried to support her, and she waved him off. "I will be fine. It merely took more out of me than I had expected."
Though Alistair felt a good deal better than before, he could tell that he was nowhere near fully healed. His back ached, though it was not as bad as before, and he was still a little weak and light-headed. It would be enough to get him back to Arl Eamon's, though, he felt sure.
"Let's hurry," Aedan urged, gesturing for them to follow as he left through the cell door. Between the four of them, they managed to drag the bodies of the two guards back into the cells, hoping that would buy a little more time than just leaving them out in the open. They then made their way to the armory to get uniforms for the way out.
"So, this was your plan to break in and rescue us?" Alistair asked as they went, gesturing at Ayla's too-short and still somehow utterly appealing dress.
It seemed to work to distract her from her dark thoughts, as he'd hoped, though he was also curious. She slanted an amused grin at him. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Clearly," Aedan remarked, stepping over the body of another guard just inside the armory. "Poor bastards obviously have no concept of how dangerous two beautiful women can be."
"As I explained to you once, Aedan, men are all too willing to believe that a woman is weak and finds them attractive." Morrigan led him over to a uniform on a rack. "Here, this one should do."
"Yes," Ayla agreed, "it was surprisingly easy to get in here when we explained that the captain had ordered us as . . . entertainment for his men. All we had to do was play nice, so to speak, with all the guards we came across."
Alistair frowned as she led him to a guard uniform as well, unable to stop himself from wondering as he put it on just how many other guards had put their hands all over her. As if sensing what he was thinking, Ayla said quietly, "It was just a few kisses, Alistair, nothing more. It didn't mean anything, you know that. It was just the easiest – and safest," she added pointedly, "way to get in here and get you two out."
"I know," he muttered as she finished helping him get the armor on. "I just – I'd never seen you kiss another man before. I mean, I know that you have, I just, I'd never actually seen it. I couldn't help but be jealous."
"I understand," she told him, smiling wryly, "believe me, I do. But, you know that you don't need to be, right? You are the only one I truly want kissing me or putting his hands on me. I'm yours, always, remember?"
He smiled at that. "I remember. Now let's get back to Arl Eamon's. I believe we had something to finish when we get back there."
She gave him a heated look, that in spite of his pain, got his blood racing through his veins as she led the way back to the door. "So we do."
"Where are the others?" Aedan was asking as they headed back out the door of the armory, fully dressed now in the guard uniforms. "Was it just the two of you?"
"No," Ayla shook her head in reply, continuing, "Leliana, Sten, Oghren and Zevran are waiting not far outside of the fort. If we didn't come out within a certain amount of time, they were going to come in after us. Leliana wanted to join us, but we thought it might look suspicious if there were too many of us, so Morrigan and I had her wait with the others, since neither one of us was willing to wait outside for you two. Wynne is back at Arl Eamon's, stocking up on as many potions and healing supplies as possible for your return."
"Good," Aedan said sincerely, wincing slightly as he walked. Alistair felt the same way; in spite of the healing Morrigan had given them, it was still barely tolerable to wear the armor over his sore back while they walked. "Let's do our best to get back there without further incident."
Fortunately, it turned out to be fairly easy to get out of the fort without running into problems. The area with the cells and armory had already been well cleared out by both women, and once they got into the main area where the offices and other rooms were, no one really looked twice at them making their way through the halls. The few times they did run into a guard that actually stopped to talk or look at them, Aedan put on quite a convincing act that the two of them were merely looking for somewhere to have a tryst with the women, and no one had any trouble believing them. In the end, they only had to fight the two guards out in the entrance hall, who didn't want to allow them to actually leave the fort. Between Ayla and Morrigan, however, the two were down before Alistair and Aedan could even attempt to help.
In no time, they were out the doors of Fort Drakon, and as soon as they were far enough away from the main doors that no one should be watching, they began to run as fast as they could manage. Not far down the road, the other four appeared, and they all made their way back to the Arl's estate as quickly as possible. Alistair was far more relieved to see Arl Eamon's home this time when they finally arrived, in spite of how painful and exhausted he was. Everybody was safe, and as Aedan had said, he would do it all over again if he had to. They were all alive, and that was all that was important. Now, they just had to make sure the Landsmeet went the way they needed it to, and with Anora on their side now, Alistair's hopes were much higher that everything would work out.