A/N: If it weren't for some gentle nudging from YoshisSupport and the kid, this update would have occurred quite a bit later in the week. Thanks you two!
Warnings: Some sticky action going in the second section. If you really, really want to skip it, you can but you're going to miss on some good action. Also, please forgive any mistakes that may pop out at you while reading.
Chapter 31: What Dreams May Come
The group's journey through the tower was not boring at all and there was tension that smothered the otherwise silent journey. There were plenty of screams and shouts, most particularly from their enemies going into their death throes. Amongst the group members themselves, they were oddly quiet, each disturbed by the recent incidents in the tower and each dealt with it in their own way.
Sten was actually the most vocal of the five-membered group, even though his only words would be either 'this is the reason why mages are leashed to their Masters' or 'Perhaps I have missed something when observing the true nature of humankind.'
Leliana, for all her talk about legends and stories that she had heard from other people, was strangely mute. Her only responses to the ever changing environment, from one floor to the next, were pursed lips and sparkling green eyes that bespoke of some intelligence wanting to speak out but afraid of doing so due to what Hadrian had almost done almost a candlelight ago. She had always figured that their 'leader' was a gentle man of noble bearing, whether it from an ancient line of nobles or just a trait. Having spent most of her life studying people and analyzing them for her previous profession, she had a strong hunch that Hadrian was indeed hiding something from them. She just didn't know what. Oh, she knew for certain that he was a noble. The high cheekbones, the strong jawline, and that regal bearing he had were all telltale signs of a noble. His spirit was too proud to be that of a peasant or a merchant. Not that either of them really mattered to her anyways. The Maker Himself told her to accompany the Wardens specifically and she will do it, no matter the costs.
The beautiful redhead wasn't the only one who kept quiet. Morrigan walked with them, not with head bowed down in submission, but with a wry smile on her pale, heart-shaped face. Black bangs hung over her eyes, almost hiding their golden depths from onlookers, who would probably have their eyes stray downwards if they couldn't meet her eyes. Every so often, her throat would close up and she would cough lightly. The witch could still feel the muscled forearm pressing against her throat, although that occurred a long time ago.
Every time she coughed, which she tried very hard to suppress, both Hadrian and Alistair would look her way. The former with an apologetic expression on his fair face, while the latter looked mildly bemused and concerned at the same time. Alistair had never truly hated anyone in his life and Morrigan was no exception. He just didn't like the way the woman rubbed off on him. Her sinewy, almost snakelike movements made him shudder as they reminded him of a large snake he had come across once in his childhood, a snake that actually bit him on the leg more out of fright than anything else. To his misfortune, it was a very poisonous asp that had bitten him and only through the Maker's grace did he survive those horrible, feverish nights. The only thing he remembered was Teagan murmuring to him in reassuring tones while his nephew cooed at him, his cool hands touching his skin and seemed to heal him as well.
The group had picked up another member along the way and, to Morrigan's ultimate dismay, she was very useful and very patronizing all at the same time. The elder mage took her position at the rear, her valuable healing skills not exactly appropriate for a frontal assault, a position that was reserved for the three warriors up front. While she did not personally witness that troubling scene with Hadrian and Morrigan, she was astute enough to notice the the rolling tension between the two. However, with the Tower being such a state as it is, she pushed aside her observations, not wanting to add insult to injury.
Unfortunately, the silence was eventually broken down. The encounter with a Sloth Demon was both abruptive and almost welcoming; his seductive tones pushed their wearied minds into forced sleep and Hadrian wasn't the only one who didn't really fight against it.
Your soul would have been delicious, human. But it's already tainted...
That's what Sloth had said to him as the world darkened around him and the sweet arms of oblivion took him into its bosom.
-o0o-
Alistair wasn't really surprised when he found himself lying underneath that same tree again. It provided him sanctuary when he was in the need of finding solitude, away from the abuse of his surrogate mother. No, she wasn't a mother, never to him. Her cold blue eyes would stare at him, emotionless. She reserved all her loving for her darling son, Connor and saved all her temper and anger for Alistair. Teagan really did try his best in redirecting her temper but he couldn't fully do it while not overstepping his boundaries. Even an Arl's brother was submissive to the Arlessa, but only just slightly. That slightly part though was enough for Teagan to not risk the ire of his brother.
What did surprise the young Grey Warden was a very warm body curled up next to him. Alistair discovered that he was spooning this person and that the person he was with was certainly not a female. The flat chest was clear evidence of that observation. Also, the shoulder length, silver hair that he was currently breathing in told him it could only be one person and he flung himself backwards, shocked at the revelation. No! There's no way! I haven't even kissed a girl and am already spooning against a guy!
Incoherent mumbles could be heard from the older Warden and he rolled unto his right side, directly facing the pale Alistair. Eyes opened to reveal a pair of shining blue orbs, so different from the Arlessa's cold ones and Alistair unwittingly fell into those endless depths of blue.
"Al? What's wrong?" The words were slurred, the owner still trying to wake up. A hand reached up to cup his cheek and Alistair gasped at the rough feel of the palm. Calloused from sword-handling and hard training, the hand was not smooth or frail. He sensed strength in it and marveled at it. Hadrian shifted closer and Alistair let out a soft gasp again as a half-erect member rubbed sensually against his thigh. We're naked?
"Was the previous night too hard on you? You did take me a couple of times and I, you."
What? Take? As in...as in...Images of a man and a woman popped into his mind, except the woman had changed into Hadrian himself, as they became entangled in the tender acts of lovemaking.
"Erm...umm..." Great, intelligent response moron! Alistair chided himself harshly and he heard a light chuckle.
"Perhaps I should remind you of what happened last night or rather earlier this morning."
Alistair's eyes enlarged in fright as Hadrian moved on top of him, their shafts pressing against each other. He couldn't help but let out a moan, especially when Hadrian rolled his hips down and in, pressing himself fully into Alistair's crotch. He didn't think that the sinful pleasures of the body would effect him in the spirit world, but they did. No! I...I can't...I can't do this! This is Hadrian!
"Al? C'me on. Please?" Hadrian's voice begged him and the pleading tones tugged at his heart. Hadrian moved his body against his, their nipples brushing against each other and causing jolts of pleasure to lance through the both of them. "Alpha, please..."
The word Alpha caused a surge of an unfamiliar feeling, a sense of desire for this man. He heard a wolf howl in recognition of its mate and was astonished to find that it was him, his inner wolf that had howled out. While his wolf welcomed the attentions of the silver-haired being that had straddled his waist, the man fought against it. I'm not ready! Not ready to face this...even though...
Yes, he remembered now. The fleeting thoughts of wanting to be with Hadrian, whether it be out of a platonic want or perhaps something more, something deeper than just mere friendship.
That little slip allowed the inner wolf to take full control. He reared up and roughly slammed Hadrian underneath him. Soft pants were heard and he saw that Hadrian bore a pair of strange ears on top of his head. Where had those come from?
"So, the Alpha has come out to play," Hadrian said or rather panted. Hazy blue orbs gazed back at his and soon, when Alistair lost himself again in their fathomless pools, he allowed himself to do so and never felt a twinge of regret as he placed a chaste kiss on those red lips. Two arms wrapped around him and pulled him down. Any other thoughts or regrets that would have plagued the younger Warden's mind were kept in the dark, successfully smothered by the intense love he held for Hadrian.
It was only afterwards, when Hadrian had fallen asleep again at his side, that those thoughts returned but his mind was more at ease now, seemingly satisfied by what had transpired between them. Unfortunately, the presence of someone broke his peace and he looked up, only to find a pale-looking doppelganger of Hadrian standing right next to him, with a large wolf at his side.
-o0o-
This is but a manifestation of your desires, of his desire. Zarieth walked beside him and Hadrian petted the large wolf's head as he watched Alistair look fondly over at his spiritual version. Hint of jealousy rose up inside Hadrian but he quickly quelled it. He refused to get jealous of his own self!
Alistair suddenly jerked his head up.
"Hadrian! This...I...we...what are you doing here?" He scrambled to his feet quickly and then blushed as he realized that he was still naked. He was essentially showing Hadrian his goods.
"Alistair, we need to leave." Hadrian's voice sounded harsher than he intended but the last thing the wanted to see was a version of himself seducing Alistair into staying in the Fade, to eventually die and be permanently stuck in this spiritual world.
"No, Al," the other Hadrian had woken up and was now standing in front of him. "He's just a spirit, trying to make you leave."
"What? Why would he do that?" Confusion clouded the handsome features of his friend.
"Because he doesn't want you happy," the spiritual Hadrian intoned. "He denies this feeling between us."
"Alistair, think about this," Hadrian spoke out to him, almost pleading with him. Pleading? Since when had he ever begged someone to do something?
Alistair hesitated and Hadrian hated himself to having to do this to his friend. He really cared for him, truly. Making him choose between himself and the spiritual friend wrung his heart but Hadrian was determined to bring Alistair out of the fade.
"If you stay here," Hadrian said, "then you'll prove Morrigan right and your absence..."
Hadrian paused for a second before finally saying, "then I will be unhappy. If you stay here, then there is no chance for us."
What Hadrian said seemed to have rung true for Alistair's eyes hardened, the younger Warden not wanting to miss out on his chance for true happiness.
He began to walk forward but was suddenly thrown back by the spiritual Hadrian, a hideous mask of rage etched on that dark face now.
"No! You won't have him! He deserves us! He deserves a better life!" The voice snarled at Hadrian and Alistair shuddered at hearing the multitude of voices crying out. It sounded demonic and the revulsion at seeing that awful face of the spiritual Hadrian made Alistair want to puke. However, something inside him made him want to protect the real Hadrian.
The spiritual version sprung for his enemy, a sword suddenly appearing in his hand. Alistair's inner wolf growled viciously inside of him, angry that someone would dare strike at what's rightfully his. In a sudden blur of movements, he managed to protect Hadrian and those haunting eyes of the spiritual one stared back at him, hurt at the betrayal. Hands clawed at him as he took out the sword that had been embedded in the doppelganger's chest. Even though it was the spiritual one he had killed, Alistair's heart still twisted painfully.
"Alistair..." Hadrian began to say but he stopped. What could he say to a man who had killed a version of him?
"Hadrian?" Alistair asked him in a frightened tone. "What's happening to me? Why do I feel this way? For you?"
"We'll talk about it later," Hadrian promised him and he clasped his friend on the shoulder, trying to convey some reassurance to the taller man. Even that brief touch brought shivers down Hadrian's spine.
Alistair opened his mouth but he slowly disappeared into the background, a very confused look on his face. Hadrian sighed heavily. Now, there was no way he could get away without having to explain himself.
"Do not worry so much about it," Zarieth said to him and Hadrian just scratched his ear, uncaring that his hand was very close to the open mouth with sharp teeth decorating the top and bottom. "Sloth is your major concern now. Defeat him and return to the real world. There, you and Alistair have a much needed discussion. The moon is near fullness and I suggest that you both go far away from your camp than usual. You will need the space."
-o0o-
"You! You're the one who torments me so!" The templar moaned as he stared at the approaching Cousland, who watched him with curious eyes. The noble had never seen him before and yet this imprisoned man speaks to him in such a familiar way.
"Stupid idea of his!" The man continued to mutter in a nonsensical way and Hadrian looked to Alistair, thinking that maybe he was acquinated with his man, seeing as how they were both Templars or at least had Templar training and seemed to be around the same age as well.
"Cullen!" Alistair started with some surprise and walked even closer to the prison, tsking at how the barrier was so strong that he could feel it humm with power once his hands touched the wall. The named Templar's head jerked upwards and the green eyes, once dazed and unfocused, began to grow more lucid.
"Alistair? Is-is that you?" Cullen rose from his pitiful stance. His hands shook as they too touched the wall of his prison. "No! You're just an illusion, just like him, he left me, he left us for that mage!"
"Who left you?" Now Hadrian stood next to his friend and he had a feeling that he knew what the imprisoned Templar was talking about. Cullen's eyes flickered nervously between his and Alistair before cringing back, his body coiled as if the two Wardens were maleficars themselves.
"Loren; I promised that I would protect him but he doesn't understand! Doesn't understand!" Then before they could ask any more questions, Cullen gave a low moan and sobs could be heard from the poor Templar. "Hear their screams...oh god...the screams! Please...make...make them stop!"
"Cullen..." Alistair's heart wrung at the wretched state of his childhood friend. The younger Warden remembered how he and Cullen used to be together for some time before he was fully initiated into the Templars. Being that he was four years older than Alistair, Cullen had only spent half of his novice training with Alistair rather than the fully seven years required for it. However, they both shared the same feelings of abandonment. Cullen had always been the stronger one though and with his higher rank, often protected Alistair from the verbal and physical abuse of the other novices. To see him become this, to act like this broken, pitiful man broke Alistair's heart.
Hadrian had gently grabbed his elbow though and before he could further dwell on it, was slowly pulled away from the sobbing man.
"Hadrian, wait, we need-" Alistair's protest was then interrupted by a harsh cry. Even the quiet Sten had barely winced at the jarring sound of it.
The screams, like what the man had said, had been going on from behind a closed door for a long while and the worst of them made even Morrigan flinch. They seemed to grow even louder, as if they were beckoning for the Wardens and their group to come in and interrupt whatever was happening.
"I know, Alistair," Hadrian said to him in a low voice, "I was hoping Loren would be here, to answer my questions, but such as it is, we need to head up there, to stop this madness." Blue eyes sparkled in anger, but Alistair knew that the anger wasn't directed at him. Instead, a warm hand grasped his own, and just held it tightly for one brief second before letting go. Alistair missed the warmth though and when Hadrian turned away from him, to start for the stairs that wound upwards, he grabbed the hand without thinking.
Hadrian turned, perplexed at why his friend reached out for him. Then the frown lines of confusion gave way into that of understanding and he took his hand out of his friend's grasp. Alistair felt something tug in his heart, a feeling of disappointment as it appeared that Hadrian didn't want him to reach out. He certainly wasn't expecting a hand to cup his cheek and a voice whisper in his ear, almost seductively, "we'll talk about it later. First, let's kick this guy's ass, ok?"
Alistair just nodded his head and his heart grew warm at Hadrian's smile. The fight with Sloth denied them an opportunity to talk in the Fade. Survival at that time had overwhelmed other feelings or thoughts.
The other man then headed for the door that waited for them. Alistair felt that he was being stared at and saw the others gawking at them. His face reddened and his ears got warm. Then Leliana gave a light laugh, almost causing the younger Warden to jump out of his skin from the unexpected sound of happiness, a sound that was out of place in this dreary tower.
"Do not worry, Alistair," she said to him, a hand clasping him on the shoulder. "I understand what you're going through."
Her cryptic statement just confused Alistair even more but with Hadrian waiting for them, he didn't want to ask for an explanation. As he followed Hadrian, he took one last glance at the imprisoned Templar, who was watching them walk up the winding stairs, before turning his attention to the man standing in front of him. A look of concentration took over the man's face and like before, it made Alistair yearn for him even more. The focused, sharp blue eyes, the strong jaw, and the lips that turned into a grimace. They all made his groin tighten but the Templar shoved those feelings aside, knowing that they would only get in the way of the future battle.
Hadrian's hand reached out and pushed against the door, which swung effortlessly backward and revealed a group of people in various positions, with one man standing in the middle.
"That is Uldred," Wynne told him in a sad whisper. Hadrian's eyes narrowed at the sight of a pair of black beings that just didn't seem to belong there. They were taller than the man who stood in front of another mage, his mouth speaking and his hands gesticulating. The other mage who had his hands bound above his head in an invisible grip convulsed violently before letting out another hoarse scream of agony. Another set of murmurings and Hadrian's heart clenched as he sensed the weakening will of the bound mage, who was then suddenly let go of his binds only to fall forward in a limp heap. He could only watch as the two hideous creatures and Uldred struck out with their hands and a powerful wave of magic swept through the entire room. When Hadrian next opened his eyes, he saw that an abomination stood in the place of the downed mage.
"This is why people righteously fear mages," Uldred cackled, his hands gesturing to the abominations freshly created out of three broken mages. Wynne's eyes turned sad at the sight of this failed, disillusioned pupil and behind his slender figure, she could see the slumped figure of First Enchanter Irving. His head was bowed and Wynne saw that his eyes were closed. Either the First Enchanter was asleep or unconscious.
"So, you're the one the Templars sent, hmm?" Uldred's dark eyes examined the group, lingering on the leader first. Uldred smiled darkly at Hadrian and Alistair's mouth turned into a thin line when he noticed that the hungry look of the blood mage was focused wholly on his friend. He stepped forth, to block the mage's view of his friend and was stopped when Hadrian's arm was placed in front of him, stopping him mid-way.
"Oh, I see," Uldred sneered. "Perhaps the Wardens have started hiring pretty things into their ranks for more than mere entertainment."
"Shut up," Alistair growled at him, not liking the insulting tone of the bald rebel. His hand reached for the sword, but Hadrian stopped from him pulling out his sword. A protest died on his lips at the sight of rage overtaking the calm features of his friend's face.
"Uldred," Hadrian said in a very polite manner, unlike Alistair, who just wanted to rip the man apart with his bare hands. "You'll pay for this,"
"Pay?" The mage cackled maniacally, his bald head rearing back. The abominations didn't move from their positions. "No, this is what we mages need. This suppression, it can only hold us down so much until one of us decided to take charge, to finally put the Templars in their rightful places. We tire of this, of the abuse at the hands of the Templars. No, it is people like you who will pay for this transgression, for allowing this to occur."
Uldred's tone became deeper and sounded demonic. Everybody looked on in horror as Uldred's form changed slowly into that of a huge, demonic beast that towered over them by more than five feet.
"Well," Morrigan commented dryly, "I suppose discussion is over." Her staff was already in her hands, the crystal glowing in a light tone as she readied herself for the upcoming fight.
"This is the reason why mages are leashed by their masters," Sten also commented. This rebellion disgusted the Qunari to no end and he couldn't understand why the Templars allowed the mages to roam freely, even in one place for so long.
"Enough, people," Hadrian ordered, drawing his sword and shield out. The Cousland emblem shone brightly and Alistair was sorely reminded of what the Cousland was before he became a Warden. They definitely need a talk after this, to talk about their pasts and those odd dreams of Alistair.
The group didn't need to be told twice about what to do as they all got into their appropriate positions. Despite having been together for only a month, they worked together like a cohesive unit of the King's personal bodyguards, men who had fought along side each other for years. Wynne, Morrigan, and Leliana all stayed in the back, while the warriors took up their front positions, protecting those behind him.
The fight with Uldred lasted longer than what Hadrian personally wanted, than what everybody wanted. The longevity battle allowed for more room of error to occur and Hadrian cursed as Uldred focused his attacks on the mages, sensing the weakness in their unit already. Both Alistair and Sten fought furiously at the sides, trying to avoid the towering abomination's sweeping attacks as well as his fire spell, which burned all in its path. He was too busy stopping Uldred from turning his prisoners into more abominations and had succeeded so far, thanks to Niel's Litany.
Everything was going well, until Uldred, nearing his death, exploded into a ball of fire. There was an anguished cry and Hadrian's eyes grew larger as he saw both Alistair and Sten fall away from Uldred. Wynne thankfully had covered everyone in a warding spell that protected them from the flames that were licking their bodies, but not causing them harm. Unfortunately, it didn't prevent Uldred from snatching an unfortunate Alistair into its grasp and it started to crush him, causing Alistair to scream in excruciating agony. Even from his position, Hadrian could hear bones break.
Knowing that he didn't have enough time, Hadrian threw his dagger at the monster's face and it struck true, hitting Uldred in the eye. It shrieked in pain but still held Alistair in a tight grip. The templar was no longer struggling now and Hadrian felt real fear in his heart. No! He can't...He can't be dead! Not after this! Furious at how the Maker would take everything from him, Hadrian emitted a harsh howl and he charged at Uldred, whose arm flailed out to strike at him. He jumped on top of the arm and quickly struck downwards, hoping against everything that it would pierce the flesh of an abomination. The sword slid through the purple flesh easily, as if it were paper, and Uldred's grip loosened enough to release the Templar, who fell to the floor. Hadrian ducked underneath a strike and rolled next to the unconscious Alistair. "Wynne, try to heal him if you can; Morrigan, freeze this bastard!"
"I-I can't revive him, Hadrian!" Wynne shouted loudly, trying to make her frail voice be heard over the din of the abomination's snarls and Uldred's shrieks. "But I have enough mana to cast a warding spell!"
"Do that! Sten, cover me!" Hadrian cried out as he charged again at the monster. Uldred snarled at his intended victims and it took a deep breath, to then breathe out fire. It would have done so with success were it not for Morrigan's cone of cold spell that froze him on the spot and thus allowing Hadrian to jump high in the air. The only hand it had struck at him and the claws pierced his armor and flesh. It didn't stop Hadrian like what Uldred would have wanted. The Cousland was more than just a pretty thing, Uldred finally realized. He was a relentless killing machine and Uldred could only watch helplessly as the sword plough through his head. The force of the blow was so strong that it knocked the monster backward, taking Hadrian with it in its fall.
Hadrian awkwardly rolled away, groaning as shards of pain lanced his chest, almost making it hard to breathe. He laid on the ground, eyes closed and not seeing Uldred's hand reach out for him shakily but intending to smash him against the ground. Through dazed eyes, the youngest Cousland saw that Sten had taken a protective stance over him and his two-handed weapon cut the hand in half. The pieces fell harmlessly to the sides and Hadrian exhaled, his body trembling at how death had almost come for him, even at the end of a battle.
"Are you ok, Hadrian," Sten asked, concern colouring his usual apathetic tone. Hadrian shakily got to his feet, breathing heavily as he did so. When he had the energy finally, he nodded and stumbled to the dying Uldred.
"Foolish humans," Uldred croaked at Hadrian. 'But you, you and that upstart friend of yours...you're different from your foolish brethren."
"We are Wardens," Hadrian managed to say without his voice trembling. Do not look weak in front of your enemy; be strong, even if it hurts. His father's words echoed in the young man's mind.
"Not...just...Wardens...you're..." the sentence trailed as Uldred's eyes dimmed and his body stilled. Hadrian, to be on the safe side, plunged his sword into Uldred's neck and beheaded the monster. Not even an abomination could come back from the dead without a head.
Everyone heard the last little bit of what Uldred said, but no one understood it, not even Morrigan herself. However, the confusion brought on by the rebel's last words was immediately replaced by feelings of relief and then urgency for those still wounded.
Leliana's cry of Alistair's name caused Hadrian's head to jerk in her direction and the Cousland ran or rather stumbled to the downed man's side.
Alistair's face was turned to the side. His eyes were closed and Hadrian already missed seeing those soft, brown orbs. The paleness of Alistair's face was more suitable for a corpse and blood seeped out from deep claw gouges in his torso, where Uldred had grasped him before.
"Crap, Alistair," Hadrian cursed, cupping a pale cheek. He undid the breastplate clasps, two pairs of leather strips with metal rings at the ends that held the two pieces together. The holes in the armor were nothing compared to the torned skin and the glistening flesh that greeted Hadrian's eyes. "Morrigan, Wynne, do you have enough mana left to heal him?"
"No and we are out of lyrium and health poultices," Morrigan stated, but her hand still rummaged through the pouch she had pulled from some unknown pocket. "But there is one last injury kit. It would be enough to heal one of your injuries."
"Give it to Alistair," Hadrian said immediately. His own body protested at having been denied of being healed but Hadrian ruthlessly pushed the feelings of pain to the back of his mind. Alistair was more important. His own wounds could wait and they weren't that bad, just mere grazes.
Morrigan's eyes raked over the wounds her leader sustained during the fight. The only thing she did to show disapproval was to raise an eyebrow in question. She tipped the man's head back. "Open his mouth, Hadrian, please."
Hadrian did so and he watched the thick red syrup pour into his friend's mouth. The effect was instant and Hadrian sighed in relief as the deep gouges filled with more blood, as the torn muscles and skin knitted themselves together. It should have sickened the watching Warden, but he was fascinated by how frail the human body was and how useful and blessed magic could be in healing the fragile mortal forms. Alistair's skin darkened into its usual tanned tones and all that remained of those wounds was the layer of blood that was smeared all over Alistair's belly. His friend emitted a low, soft groan and Hadrian waited anxiously for those eyes to open. When they did, his stomach jumped in happiness at how they immediately found his without even trying to look around.
"Oh, Maker, what happened?" He gingerly sat up, with some help from Hadrian. "I feel like I was crushed by an ogre or something."
"Something like that," Hadrian informed in a very worried tone. He still found Alistair's skin too hot for his own liking and hoped that his friend wouldn't catch a fever after all this.
Wynne's tongue clucked as she moved her hands over the healed ribs and claw gouges. "Thank goodness, that health poultice was the strongest. It healed his ribs and those claw marks. Not a scar left!"
"Can you stand ok?" Hadrian asked the younger Warden as he let the man lean on him slightly when rising to their feet. Alistair stumbled a little bit when Hadrian stepped out some, to allow the man some room to breath. He caught himself in time though and managed to stay steady on his feet.
"Yes, I just hope there's some food after this, particularly some Antivan cheese." To prove his point, a growling sound could be heard and everyone stared pointedly at Alistair, who clutched at his stomach and bore a sheepish grin on his face.
Then they all laughed and Hadrian just shook his head, thanking the Maker that Alistair was well enough to be himself again. The laughter stopped though when Wynne's eyes lighted up on the still slumped figures of the bound mages and she ran to them.
The older mage was closely followed by Hadrian and the others; together they all cut through the ropes that had bound the mages' hands together. Both Wynne and Hadrian helped First Enchanter Irving up while the others aided the rest of the mages climb up to their feet.
"Thank the Maker, we are free and that Uldred is gone," Irving's voice croaked. Hadrian figured that the First Enchanter was probably tortured first and the longest, with his voice giving out on him sometimes. "Thank you, Wynne, for leading these young people to us."
Wynne's head shook in response. "No, you really should thank this young man and his friends here."
Irving turned his head to regard the man who stood on his left. "Ah, you must be that young lad who would always visit our Loren, a fine pupil."
"Hadrian Cousland," the man bowed in respect. "I am one of Loren's closest friends."
Irving's eyes grew sad at that statement.
"Sir Greagoir has yet to call for the Rite of Annullment," Hadrian said to the pair. "We best move on and inform him what transpired here in the Tower."
-o0o-
Sir Greagoir tried to keep his impatience down, but the group was taking a long time resolving this issue. His messenger that was sent to Denerim had come back, but with the way the messenger appeared, haggard and worn out, he doubted that he would get any help from the Reagent's advisor on this matter. Thus, he made recoursed to his own experience and held back the call for the Rite of Annulment. His decision was made five candlelights ago and the waiting period was straining even his own nerves.
What Templars he had left were either seen lying on the ground, recovering from wounds both visible and invisible, or pacing restlessly in the small lobby. Despite the fact that this problem was due to a mage, Greagoir really wished that he had at least one mage on his hands, a healer, anyone that could help his men out. He found it ironic that this happened, where he locked all the mages in the Tower, along with half of his Templars.
His own final limit was when dawn broke. Though there were no windows in the tower, Sir Greagoir sensed that the sun was very close to rising to meet Thedas and he sighed heavily. There was no way Hadrian and his group succeeded in something that his trained Templars could not. No way in the Maker's Pits. He barked out a name and a Templar walked briskly to him, saluting him respectfully before standing into a position.
"We're pulling out. Lock down the front doors; seal the Tower."
"What about Sir Cousland and his friends?" The templar was young, Sir Greagoir noticed. Young and inexperienced. He didn't remember the lad's name; all he knew was that the red hair suddenly suited his temper: fiery and questionable. While the Knight-Commander usually punished such backtalk, especially from a young recruit, this situation didn't really call for it. He could tell the lad was already shakened by the events here and decided that perhaps he should save the punishment for a more severe infraction, like actually disobeying orders rather than questioning them.
"My faith in the Cousland boy is sorely misplaced," Sir Greagoir didn't understand why he was explaining himself to this boy. He was Knight-Commander! He didn't have to explain his actions to anyone, except for those higher than him. Perhaps, it was due to the nagging feeling at the back of his mind, the one which begged for Sir Greagoir to wait for a few more minutes at least. Of course, he had that feeling since two candlelights ago, but it grew more urgent, more incessant in its pleas. Maker cursed conscience!
"I can't risk the entire world being overrun by abominations by waiting for Bryce's son to come out and save the day!"
The last sentence was shouted at the young novice. He didn't flinch though and Sir Greagoir admired that. He bowed stiffly to his superior and was just about to head to the other Templars, who were all crowded in one corner, when a pair of doors slammed open.
Sir Greagoir was truly taken aback by the strange but certainly welcoming sight of the group that had went in a long time ago. They didn't come back unscathed, as evidenced by the dents, creases, and blood smeared all over the armor. Along the way, they must have picked up someone, a Templar named Cullen, whose arm was slung over Alistair's shoulder. He was still in a daze, the eyes looked shocked and blank, taking in nothing from the environment. The group had moved forward into the lobby and Alistair set Cullen down gently on a rolled out blanket before joining Hadrian and the rest of the group.
"Knight-Commander Greagoir," a very familiar voice intoned in a regal manner. Greagoir would know that voice anywhere and his grin itched to show itself on his weathered face. However, being a high-ranking Templar meant that one couldn't show emotions and Greagoir almost apathetically replied back, "it's good to see you, First Enchanter, Irving, and you, Wynne. You both look not too worse for the wear."
"Thanks to these five here," Irving gestured with his hand to the group standing slightly behind him.
"Has everything been situated? What about Uldred?" Greagoir's brows furrowed as Hadrian reported all that he had seen and done. What Uldred had done was very concerning to the Knight-Commander and the temptation to just call in for the Rite of Annullment was so great that he could feel his mouth working to bark that order. However, the words that flew out of his mouth astonished even him.
"Thank the Maker. I've never imagined a day where I'll be saying that I am glad to see you, Irving."
Greagoir wasn't the only surprised to hear those words and Irving inhaled sharply. "Now, we have to discuss in how to best clean up this mess."
"What about Cullen? What will happen to him?" Hadrian briefly glanced over the hunched silhouette of the man in question. Seeing such devastation on the man's face made Hadrian almost pity him and he knew that if he were to fall mad, it would be better to do so in a company of people of mixed origins, rather than of the Fade. To leave a traumatized Templar in the presence of mages would just be asking for trouble and he knew that Cullen would certainly not be missed by the other mages in the Tower. On the other hand, he would not force Cullen into doing something he didn't want to do either.
It seemed as if Knight-Commander Greagoir shared the same idea for he too stared at the other Templar, who was still dazed from recent events. "Traumatized templars and suppressed mages are usually not a good combination. It's why I'm sending him north, to Kirkwall. He'll serve in the Chantry for a few years and go through rehabilitation. Unless, you have another idea?"
Greagoir's eyes pinned their blue counterparts and the older man was not surprised to see them light up for a brief second, before calming back to their usual tones.
"Actually, yes. Perhaps he can come with us?"
Morrigan's mouth worked again, as usual, but the way her leader glared at her caused her words to get stuck in her throat. The redhead pursed her lips in contemplation and her eyes raked over the tired form of Cullen. Even she could tell that he was about to snap at any moment. The last thing these poor mages need is another self-righteous templar who is too far gone to separate what is right and what is necessary.
"What do you think, Alistair?" Hadrian's question took him by surprise and the younger Warden looked startled. He gave Hadrian a questioning look, one that said without words, why are you asking me? "You knew him since you were kids."
"He's changed a lot since then…" came the weak reply and he felt a wave of disappointment radiate from his friend. It was odd to him how he could act so confident and yet so timid at various points of this entire journey. He didn't want to see the disappointment in those blue eyes and he took a deep breath, before finally answering, in a much firmer tone, this time, "but I believe we can help him out; we all went through some traumatic experiences."
Alistair's heart fluttered at the pleased expression on his friend's face and he discovered that he wanted to see if he could have the silver-haired man make other expressions, like those he saw in the Fade. The flushed look of want, the kiss-swollen lips that parted gently to allow soft moans and gasps to be released. His hands just ached to touch him and the poor Warden didn't understand why he just wanted to reach out and touch his friend, to caress and hold him, to love him in the way that he really should love a woman.
"Alistair!" Someone called out to him and he jumped when a very cool hand landed on his hot skin. He knew that it was Hadrian who had called out to him, who had touched him with that relishing cool sensation. Then, he smelled something that didn't seem right to him. It smelled metallic and as he inhaled with his mouth, he could almost taste the copper in the air. It was blood and Alistair's eyes quickly raked over the older Warden's form. He didn't see anything though except his friend's armor that could use some repairing and his sheathed sword and shield. They were cleaned off the blood but perhaps the smell still lingered on them. It grew stronger when Hadrian stepped closer to him and felt his forehead with a cool hand.
"Damn, maybe that injury kit I gave you wasn't enough," Hadrian muttered underneath his breath. His muttering prompted the elder mage to step forth and Alistair grew even more flustered at all this attention. He didn't want the mage touching, just Hadrian.
"He is fine, Hadrian; perhaps he is just tired from this ordeal, like we all are." Wynne took her hand back and she glanced at the others, old eyes perusing their forms for any visible injuries that she had missed. Morrigan healed herself just fine, after a couple of vials of lyrium. Both Leliana and Sten were holding up as well, their faces a little reddish but it was out of walking the long flight of stairs right after a battle rather than from a bad injury.
"You are more than welcome to rest here," Knight-Commander Greagoir offered, "but with the mess the Tower is in now, I'm afraid I can only offer you this place to rest in."
Hadrian regarded the lobby with obvious distaste. To save room for the essentials, he had his party leave behind the bedrolls and pillows as well. The other Templars couldn't afford any spare bedrolls either, for they were reserved for the wounded and for the displaced mages as well. If they were to spend the night here, they would fall asleep on hard, unforgiving ground, with the threat of Templars and abominations hanging over the heads. Plus, the young Cousland couldn't risk losing Morrigan to any of these Templars, no matter his certain dislike for the topaz-eyed witch.
"That's ok," Hadrian politely refused Sir Greagoir's offer, "besides, we have two dwarves waiting for us and hopefully some food."
The Knight-Commander nodded then and he bade the group farewell, promising Hadrian that next time, they should catch up and that the extra forces he would need for the Archdemon would be provided without question.
-TBC-
A/N: Sorry for the late update! Internet crashed on me and I had to have it fixed! I am a willing addict to the internet! Anyhoo, below are the review responses, which hopefully contain minor to no spoilers for the next chapter! Please leave a line or two, or three behind!
The kid: I had already planned on having another full moon chappy after the tower. :D Let's just say things will get interesting. I'm very happy to know that you are enjoying the story and am glad for the gentle reminder to update. Please check my transformers fic if you are interested in reading another good story like this one. Thanks again!
David9999: Fergus has his own path to follow as do Arren and Anders. They will eventually get to Kirkwall and when they go, boy, do things really change from the original DA 2 story! I hope this chappy is just as good as the last one, though maybe not as epic.
Blue-Eyed Beast of Destiny: Thank you very much for the praise! I'm just happy that you left a review behind. :D I hope you got what you're looking for in terms of Hadrian/Alistair.
Madness of Angels: Since this chappy was fully devoted to the events in the Tower, I couldn't squeeze in Arren/Anders moments. Otherwise, this would be another ten pages long and even I don't have a long enough attention span to read through all that. I finally saw Transformers 3 today and yes, Prime is the man or rather, the Autobot!
YoshisSupport: So, is it still 'story information 3'? :D
Aelfric's Cat: Yep, Amell and Cullen are a planned couple! Woo! Let's just Cullen really needs hands-on healing now! The Hawkes will hopefully be in the next chappie or so.
Gatorsnacks: I hope it's still getting better and better. Please keep reading and reviewing! I'm really loving all the attention!
Thank you all again for reading and to the aforementioned readers for reviewing! You all just make my day!