Heavy sigh. This chapter was harder to write than 'Ashes for Eamon.' I think it's going to be this way until I get through the transition from Alistair to Nathaniel.

A special praise goes to Shacary as I borrowed the first line of this chapter from her. Thank you.

Of course, I have a long list of thank yous that I would love to tell all my ff fans. I would like to tell each and everyone personally, thank you for hanging in there and keeping up. You're great. I have a few intimate friends on this site who mean the world to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I've already waisted enough time, so I think I'll just post this...

I hope you enjoy! galesong1234

Chapter 16

Rescued

(Chandra)

"Hurry up," I tapped my foot impatiently, "We need to find this mage in order to rescue the queen."

We were held up in Howe's personal chambers disguised as one of his men-at-arms. With the exception of a nod or two, nobody gave us a great deal of notice. I was beginning to feel rather confident that Anora's rescue would go without any incidences. That was until we got there and found out that her chamber door was magically sealed.

Zevran looked over his shoulder, "My lovely grey warden…some things require a firm stroking while others require a delicate fondling."

I placed my hand on my hip and gave an exaggerated laugh, "Are we talking about your skills as a rogue or your skills in the bed?"

There was a click and a sliding of a bolt, "Is there a difference?"

"Stop being such a flirt," I slapped him upside the head, "We have a rescue to do."

"Tsk-tsk…all work and no play," he winked with his devilish grin, "Makes for a very sad Zev today."

I pushed him out of my way and opened the door, "Sorry! But play time is over."

He rolled onto his feet in one fluid motion and followed me below, "Nothing like a dark narrow passage to make a man feel obliged."

"Who goes there," the astonished guard questioned as we stepped through another door.

We were immediately taken back when someone reached through the cell doors and grabbed the guard from behind. There was an unpleasant snap and the guard collapsed to the ground.

Zev pulled out his twin blades and crouched in front of me, "What are you doing," I questioned.

"Taking point while presenting my assets," the irritating elf smirked.

"The only thing pointy is your ears," I kicked him in his impertinent arse, "Besides…I don't need any protecting. Someone has beat you to it."

He stepped to the side and flashed me a grin, "I have a more pointy attribute than my ears."

"See this?" I covered my ears, "This is me not listening." We heard keys rattling followed by a click. "What do you think," I elbowed the elf as we watched the guard's body slide across the floor to disappear into the prison cell, "Friend or foe?"

"Friend," answered the middle-aged man as he stepped over the guard's body, "Thank you for creating a distraction, stranger."

"Impressive moves there, old man," I was quick to note that he looked quite put together while he finished dressing in the dead guard's armor.

He tested the fit, "Perhaps introductions are in order, if only so you never call me that again." He tipped his dark head in my direction, "I am Riordan, Senior Grey Warden of Jader. And you…must be Duncan's last recruit," he regarded me with interest, "Yes, you match his description."

I eyed him suspiciously, "Duncan is dead and so is the king. Where were you?"

"Yes, I know," he sounded sincere, "We had two-hundred wardens and two dozen divisions of cavalries waiting. The first we heard of Loghain's edict was when everyone was turned back at the border."

"Then you probably know that we are being blamed for the massacre?"

"Yes, we had heard that. We finally decided it safest to send someone alone to learn how best to fight the Blight and this regime simultaneously."

"So they sent you?" I grabbed my numb arm and let out a slow breath, "The Archedomen's nearly here!" The reality of our plight once more hitting home, "Will we have no help?"

"As a native Ferelden I volunteered," Riordan leaned heavily on his left side, "The other Warden's won't risk their strength fighting Ferelden's civil war. If Ferelden is too foolish to save itself," he pressed his hand to his forehead, "At least we'll be ready when the Archedemon leads its forces further."

"If we don't take out Loghain, this all is for not," I spoke out mostly to myself.

"I will send a message as soon as we are gone from this place," he turned to exit.

"First, I have business with Howe," my hand tightened around my sword.

"I will seek you out later…after I find a good physician," he reached for my damaged arm. When I did not return his grasp he inclined his head, "And, good luck….sister."

With an explosive bang and a splintering of wood, I kicked the door of the dungeon open and threw my dagger at Howe's personal mage before he had time to react. The mage clutched his chest and fell to the ground, a soft mewing sound gurgled from his lips.

"So the little witch has finally come to claim her vengeance?" hissed Rendan Howe.

"I wondered if you remembered me," I unsheathed my remaining blade with my uninjured arm.

"How can we forget the child prodigy?" he shook his head, "Such a disappointment…"

I continued towards him, "You've butchered and killed everyone," I raised my blade to strike, "That I have ever cared about or loved."

"Yes, every last one of them," he sneered but didn't flinch, "Just like I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you die!" I ran towards him.

I misjudged. In the heat of my anger I had failed to notice the other mage and a handful of men-at-arms lurking in the shadows to my right. I had assumed that Howe would be alone with his mage. I over calculated my chances and now I would suffer the consequences.

"Tsk-tsk," Howe lectured, "Didn't the Tower teach you to control that temper of yours?" I was paralyzed from the neck down, "Remember what you did to your brother?" He circled around me and pierced me with his blade, "It's really too bad I don't have time for this." He stabbed me once again in the abdomen, "Torturing you would be most…What is the word I am looking for? Oh, yes…gratifying."

The mage's paralysis spell wore off. I dropped to one knee still clutching my sole blade. My chest heaved as I took in large breaths of air. I closed my eyes and called forth the elements. My magic formed an ominous shield of white around me while my eyes flashed fiery red vengeance. The magnitude of its power lit the darkened recesses of the stifling room. As a sponge absorbs water, I drew its power into me and slowly rose. An explosion of arcane light burst from my body in waves of isotropy. Howe and his henchmen flew back against the walls in a deafening clack of metal.

I turned to the last mage and summoned the vilest spell I knew. The mage screamed in torment as his veins pulsated and bulged. I concentrated the power into a black vaporous dagger of death. The mage clawed at his face while blood oozed from his pores. With a final agonizing cry the mage exploded. Blood fountained from his body to mingle with my own.

With the last of my magic I performed one final paralysis spell of my own. Howe and his remaining henchman froze in their stance. I walked purposely to Howe and lifted my blade. I thrust it forward, its length slid into his gut. Howe's mouth gaped open in astonishment as blood trickled out, "I deserved more…"

I wrenched my blade free and slashed it across his throat, "This is all you get."

Blood sprayed across me as his body splashed to the wet red stones. I crumbled to the ground next to him and waited for my death while Howe's remaining henchmen began to thaw.

"What is this? You started the party without me?" Zev limped through the door, bloodied and sore.

I smiled weakly as my rescuer made mincemeat of the last five guards, "You know me and parties," I took a breath, "Couldn't wait to tear into those presents."

"Don't tell me it's a scratch," he chastised and was instantly at my side.

"Would you believe me if I did?" I pushed myself up into a sitting position, "Seriously, I was just resting my head."

"And I'm the king of Antivia," his satirical voice was laced with concern.

"Really? If you help me up," I extended my hand, "I would surely bow." The reality of those words was closer to the truth than I was willing to share with my favorite assasin.

"We need to get out of here," I wavered considerably as he helped me up, "The alarm has been sounded."

"See to the others," I leaned against a table for support, "While I catch my breath."

Zev came back, "The templar is too far gone in his lyrium neurosis, but he gave me this," he handed me a ring, "Sister and Alfstanna were the only two things I could comprehend."

I looked at the ring and gave back to him, "Hold on to this until we get back to Eamon's estate."

"Your not planning on coming with me...are you," it was a statement not a question.

"I'll be right behind you," I promised, "What about Vaughan?"

"The Arl of Denerim met with an unfortunate accident."

"Zev," I berated, "We needed his voice at the Landsmeet."

"He was a rapist and a butcher of elves," his anger plainly seen, "You would have me release him?"

"We could have dealt with him…" I sighed, "Never mind, I want you to make sure Oswyn gets back to Dragon's Peak," I fondly squeezed his hand, "Stay behind…just until you know that I have made it out of the castle…then get Oswyn to safety."

"What about Anora," Zev questioned.

"I can handle her," he looked skeptical, "I'll be right behind you."

"There's no more lyrium or healing potions," concerned furrowed his brow once more, "You used them up healing Oswyn."

"I have enough mana to complete the job," I lied.

I trusted Zev to carry out my orders as I continued ahead to release Anora. Each step I took was a labor of strength and determination. There was nothing left, but the sheer hope that all would end as well as it began.

My borrowed armor had become an impediment to my weary body. Like breadcrumbs for for the lost, I let my armor drop one-by-one. They cluttered the blood trail that zigzagged behind me where I had walked.

"It's about time," Erlina complained.

I scowled at the elf as I unlocked the door to Anora's prison, "Aren't you a little short for a guard?"

"Funny, very funny," Anora imperiously paraded past me in the same garb I had worn, "We must be quick and avoid notice."

"Too late for that," I pointed to the entrance where Ser Gauthtrien and two dozen guards waited.

Anora shoved the helmet onto her head and waited for me to lead. I strode past her walking rather ungainly.

"Warden," Ser Cauthrien shouted, "In the name of the Regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendan Howe and his men-at-arms."

I braced my legs slightly apart and, for a moment, concentrated on the stone floor slick with blood. My lifeforce streamed down my leg in heavy rivulets of sweat and death. I took a shallow breath and lifted my head, "I'm here to free Anora, who was held captive."

"Don't be ridiculous. The queen isn't being held prisoner here or anywhere else," it was obvious she didn't believe me, "Her father would never stand for such a thing."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, "Time for a new tactic," I thought.

"She's right here," I reached for the queen's arm and flung her forward, "Tell her, Anora!"

She stumbled to the ground, "Ser Cauthrien! Praise the Maker, you're here," Anora sobbed, "This brigand tried to kidnap me."

"You double-crossing bitch," I spat.

(Alistair)

"She has not failed yet," Sten replied, "Why question her skills now?"

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and took another gulp of ale, "Because she is…," I wanted to say my life but knew the qunari wouldn't understand, "Because she the only other grey warden in all of Ferelden."

"That's not true," Riordan walked through the door of Eamon's study.

"Riordan?" I reached out and took his hand, "By the maker…"

"Yes, my friend," he embraced me, "I am sorry to hear about Duncan."

"Did you bring any reinforcements?" I was quick to ask.

"Sadly, no! I was taken hostage by Loghain," he explained, "I was rescued by our sister grey warden…"

"Chandra!" I broke in, "Where is she?"

"She said she had business with Rendan Howe…"

I didn't wait for him to finish. I gathered up my sword and headed for the door. I ran down the steps and nearly trampled, "Anora?"

"Where's Eamon?" the queen shouted.

"What, in Andraste's name, has happened," Eamon questioned behind Anora, "Are you alright?" We followed Eamon back down the stairs in to the main hall.

Anora held her hand to her heart, "I may have done a terrible thing."

"What's this," Zevran walked breathlessly through the main estate doors, "She throws her savior to the wolves and now she has second thoughts?"

"Where is she," I threw the elf against the wall and held him there by his throat, "I should kill you right now. If anything has happened to her…"

"Stop it!" Leli came tearing across the room, "It's not his fault," she beated on my arms until I released the elf.

I watched as he grasped his throat, "She betrayed," Zevran gasped and pointed, "That bitch betrayed us."

(Chandra)

There was an ear shattering scream and the smell of burning flesh. The woman flung herself forward, her body taunt as she reached the end of her chains. Back against the wall she crashed again, writhing in undeniable pain. I wanted to block my ears from the woman's constant cries. When I tried, I realized they were mine.

Sometime later, I don't know how long…

"You look like you've been dragged through ten kinds of crap, friend," the gruff voice spoke from the distance, "What'd you do?"

"I trusted the wrong person…"

"Now that sounds like a tale," the gruff voice grated in my ear like metal scraping the ground.

"My friends are coming for me…"

"You think so, do you," the mean gruff voice questioned and then laughed.

"Alistair will come for me. You'll see…"

I could not imagine the magnitude of how utterly terrible I looked. I could only judge by the shocked expression on my rescuer's handsome face. I had no strength or way to replenish my manna; thus, I remained in the same position my tormenters had discarded me. I was sure of this by the offensive smell that permeated around me. I laid in my own bile, blood and defecation.

"Alistair!" I croaked, "I knew you'd come. I was just telling my friend…," It hurt to talk and he looked so serious.

Exaggerated and swollen, I attempted a lopsided smile. To my own amusement, I thought it might have resembled Alistair's on a bad day of course. Alistair was not impressed.

"Thank the maker, you're all right!" Alistair was quickly at my side.

He gently folded me into his lap and shielded my nakedness with his strong arms. Alistair did not seem too repulsed. I wouldn't go as far as saying that I smelled like roses. I heard him call out to Sten to find me clothing and to be quick about it.

"What were you possibly thinking? You are a stubborn, stubborn woman," berated Alistair as he shook me like a disobedient child. My head could not support its weight, as it lulled around, no stronger than a newborn child did.

"Alistair, you don't look too well," I observed through my good eye. Alistair's beautiful face seemed to move further and further away. I reached out feebly, "Zap! Frog time!" I blacked out.

Are you really here?

Or am I dreaming.

I can't tell dreams for truth,

For it's been so long

Since I have seen you.

I can hardly remember your face anymore.

When I get lonely

And the distance calls,

It's only silence.

"Pashara?" I woke up to Sten's big head looming over me.

"Bring me any cookies?" I croaked my throat hoarser than before.

Sten held the water skin to my parched lips. I choked on its meager contents. During my blackout they, probably Alistair, had dressed me in my own armor. It had been hastily thrown on and it chafed, causing blood to pool around reopened cuts and wounds.

My good eye searched out Alistair. He was at my feet attempting to pull on my boots. The look in his eyes was more than I could bear, "Looks like no dancing for me," I tried to make light of the situation.

Alistair had found the worst of my torture. It had not taken long for the hot pokers to make quick work of my feet. Sten took control. He grabbed my boots from Alistair and shoved them onto my bloody feet. The pain was unbearable. I'm sure I blacked out again.

Sten unceremoniously hoisted me up while I unceremoniously wretched the remaining contents of my stomach on the floor in front of me. Then Sten grabbed my face between his big hands and studied me, "The irony of this moment is not lost to me."

I was handed over to Alistair by the big, mean qunari. My body was not my own. It belonged to a rag doll the way it flopped around in Alistair's inviolable embrace. If it were at all possible, Alistair looked more stoic than Sten ever did.

I flipped my head to the good side and gave Alistair a toothy grin, "I've been told I clean up quite nicely. Trust me."

I wonder if we set some precedence for future prison breaks, as there was very little opposition. We broke through the main doors of the battlement. Sten, in berserker form, charged and waved his giant qunari sword like a mad man. Alistair held up his shield and used it like a battering ram against approaching foes. Me, I was trussed over Alistair's broad shoulder like a winter's solstice goose. I had a good view of our rear while Alistair had a firm hold on mine. I reached new levels of awareness as I lapsed in and out of unconsciousness with each charring step. I could never be sure of such things from my vantage point, but it seemed like their plan worked. Then again, perhaps it was the smell.

*If You Want Me - Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova