This was not a meeting that Aeonar's Knight-Commander wanted to have. Displeased by having the prison's location divulged to anyone, particularly the Grey Wardens, he hadn't wanted to speak to the woman at all. Unfortunately, he had no real choice in the matter: he could scarcely turn away Warden-Commander Surana.
Her request angered him even more. Adara could see it simmering beneath his cool façade. "I am beginning to doubt the Grey Wardens' neutrality on matters of magic."
With a Grey Warden on the throne, Adara thought privately that the Grey Wardens had abandoned neutrality a long time ago, if not even intentionally. Young and inexperienced, she and Alistair had made a great deal of choices during the Blight that did not please Weisshaupt.
"And not only is the blood mage in question still alive and under the protection of the Grey Wardens, you want me to release his accomplice to you."
"Not to me," Adara said quickly. Lily did not need to be inducted into their grisly lives, not after what she had been through. She needed quiet and care that Adara and Jowan could never provide, nor would Lily be likely to accept it from either of them. "Send her to a Chantry, where somebody can look after her." She would be happy there, where she could at least pray in the sunlight. "Surely you didn't intend to keep her imprisoned forever for making a lover's mistake."
The knight commander did not have to say anything. They both knew that prisoners did not live for more than a handful of years in Aeonar at best. Kept secluded from the mage prisoners due to her unique circumstances, Lily's treatment had been gentle in comparison. It had likely bought the girl a few years of life that she no longer wanted. "All I ask is a bit of mercy for one of your own," Adara said.
He snorted. "None of this has been a request… Commander."
Adara rose from her seat, at her full height scarcely rising about the knight commander sitting. "It is," she said, the words tasting bitter with guilt. She would not force this, not when she had pressed her luck this far already. "Consider it a favor. I would be grateful, and I remember my debts. You could do worse than have the Commander of the Grey indebted to you."
The knight commander was silent, finally pushing to his feet and gesturing to the door. "I'll consider it."
Eager to be gone but not eager to be forgotten, Adara pressed: "Send a letter to Vigil's Keep with your decision. I'd like to stay informed."
With another show of forced politeness, they parted ways. Two templars led the Warden Commander down the halls of Aeonar. Adara tried to keep her face impassive, to show no sign that the unnatural thinness of the Veil troubled her. She could almost feel eyes watching her from beyond the Veil, eager and hungry. Mages did not last long in Aeonar before being overcome by the Fade's denizens.
Her templar escorts left her with her party, where Jowan stopped what Adara imagined was an hour of anxious pacing to hurry over. His face was twisted with worry, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.
"Did it work?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low, though it still rang shrilly enough for the entire Grey Warden party to hear.
"He said he would consider it." Jowan's face fell, and Adara reached out to touch his shoulder. He was as thin as she was, despite being a foot taller. "I'm sorry, Jowan. I couldn't do any more." The lie pained her, but she had responsibilities. She had played her hand with the Chantry already. "I've made too many demands of them." Adara couldn't throw her weight around forever. Too many Conscriptions, too much flouting of Chantry law, and it would all come crashing down around her head.
"You should have come for her first. Not me," he said thickly, brushing her hand away and turning on his heel. Adara knew his moods, and his anger was understandable, but it hurt. He was right, of course. Pleading for mercy for a Chantry sister would have been far less damning than demanding the release and Conscription of a man imprisoned for blood magic and attempted murder. They both knew she had made a mistake, and neither of them knew why she had taken the damn risk.
"He's right," a voice grumbled behind her, and Adara paled with fury, closing her eyes to keep from lashing out. Jowan is my friend, my only friend, the one who made me laugh when I was crying, the one person I can never stand to see hurt no matter how many Maker-damned stupid things he does. He's a brother to me.
"Hawke," was all that she said, her voice a clipped warning.
"Sorry," the recruit muttered. She shouldn't have brought either of the new Wardens here—both overly large warriors—but she wanted the show of physical strength.
Adara was making so many mistakes these days that it seemed impossible to stop.
She stared down at the floor for a long moment, trying not to think about the long road to cleaning up her own messes. She had hoped that the end of the Blight meant the worst was over, but it seemed that wasn't to be. "Let's go," she said quietly.
"Gladly," she heard Hawke grumble, but this time she said nothing at all.