The pain wasn't the first thing I noticed when I started to come around. The first thing I noticed was that I appeared to be upside down and in motion. My knees were pressed to my chest and one arm was twisted awkwardly behind my back. The second thing I noticed was that it was dark and cramped, and as I tried to shift myself into a less uncomfortable position, my skin grazed across something rough, and my last conscious memories came flooding back. The something rough was canvas. I was in the fucking sack, being wheeled along on some kind of cart.
As my eyes flew open, that's when the pain hit. The skin around my right eye, temple and cheekbone felt taut and tender, and there was a throbbing pain in my shoulder from when I had tried to break down one of the doors. My hand moved down to gingerly rest over my aching stomach, and I didn't have to look to know that my entire torso was covered in bruises. Daryn's men must have taken turns kicking me while I was unconscious. I almost burst into tears from a combination of the pain and the image of seven grown men taking pleasure from hurting me while I lay bleeding on the ground, but I sniffed, clenching my jaw and pushing away the feeling of self-pity. Nothing would have been easier right then than giving in and crying and begging them to let me go, but through the pain and the hopelessness I felt, something else found its way to the fore: rage. Pure and unadulterated. I didn't try to swallow it, like I usually did when this level of unbridled anger reared its head. Instead, I let it pulse and flow through me, restoring strength to my tired and aching limbs, alerting all of my senses that there was a fight to be had.
Lying on my back, I raised my arms above my head, feeling around me for a way out of my canvas prison, unsurprised to find that the sack was tightly tied shut with rope. I wasn't The Hulk, my anger hadn't given me superhuman strength, I knew I wasn't going to be able to break the rope in half but maybe I could shimmy the tight coil up over the edge of the sack, giving myself an opening. I grabbed two fistfuls of canvas and pulled as hard as I could. I pulled and scrambled and shoved and struggled but it was shut fast, and the rope wasn't budging. I let my arms go limp, struggling to get my now ragged breathing under control. My hands were scratched and bloodied from my efforts and the rough material of the sack was everywhere, clinging to my arms and my face. There was no room to move or stretch my legs, and every time I tried to shift into a less painful position, my limbs were tangling in my woven cage. I had never felt so claustrophobic. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, only to discover a deep gash on my bottom lip that I hadn't noticed in my initial assessment of my injuries, and I winced as my teeth grazed the torn and tender flesh.
I won't cry. I won't cry. I thought, fiercely, as hot tears of pain and frustration ran silently down my face.
I couldn't get out. I was trapped. A mighty Grey Warden, defeated by a sack. I felt utterly pathetic. An unbidden whimper escaped my lips as a sharp stabbing pain shot through my abdomen. I had taken my fair share of knocks since arriving in Ferelden, but nothing had come close to this. I was alone, I was trapped, I was broken, and I was surrounded by the men who had broken me, on my way to be handed over to a man who wanted me dead. I cursed myself for not running when I had the chance. If I hadn't grown cocky, if I hadn't stopped to interrogate that man about who had sent him, I would be back at The Pearl with my friends. With Alistair.
Alistair. What would he do when he found out what had happened to me? Would he find out? Were he and Grayson looking for me right now? At the thought of my brave friends staging a daring rescue, I was struck at once both with selfish hope that they would, and cold fear that they actually might. If they risked everything to come for me, they would lose. The castle would be too well protected and Loghain would be expecting it. They wouldn't get past the front doors. And then Ferelden would be lost. All because I couldn't defend myself against a handful of bandits. I had never hated myself more than I did in that moment.
I was on the verge of a self-loathing spiral when the cart shuddered to a stop and my breathing stopped with it. I strained my ears, trying to hear what was going on, but the voices around me were dull and muffled. I thought I heard someone say "Lauren", or it could have been "Warden". Either way, I was quite certain they were talking about me.
Without warning, someone heaved the sack off of the cart and threw it carelessly to the ground. I didn't have time to brace myself and landed hard on my side, clenching my teeth and balling my fists to keep from crying out as this new hurt joined the rest.
There was a flurry of rough movement near my head as the ropes were untied and for the first time since I woke up, I didn't want to be free. I knew who was waiting for me. The sack was yanked down past my head and strong arms dragged me to my feet. I yelled and kicked against my captor, but every movement I made was torture. The man behind me grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled back, hard, forcing my chin into the air to show my face, and I heard the sound of parchment being unfurled somewhere to my right. My eyes darted around, wildly, searching for Loghain, but he wasn't there. We weren't at the castle, we were in the shadow of a high tower that I recognised as Fort Drakon.
No. Not Howe. My mind raced, frantically. Loghain was a tyrant, but Howe was pure evil. Why would they bring me here?
I quickly realised that Daryn and his men were trying to convince the guards at the entrance who I was, in order to collect their bounty. The men around me towered over me, and I forced my face into a fierce expression. I wasn't going to show fear, not now.
One of the guards stepped forward and took my face in one of his hands, squeezing my cheeks together and turning my head from side to side, comparing me to the ransom poster that Daryn was eagerly holding towards him.
"She certainly looks like the girl on the poster." The guard said, frowning. "A bit more banged up, but that's her. Wouldn't you say?" He stepped back, gesturing for his fellow to inspect me. I seethed with rage as both men studied me like I was some kind of interesting object, rather than a human being. "Alright. We'll take her from here."
"Hey, wait! What about our reward?" Daryn demanded. "The poster says a hundred sovereigns for capture." He said, stabbing a finger pointedly to the parchment in his hands. "She's ours until we get that money."
"Your reward is you hand her over and the Arl won't have your head." The guard replied, with a slow, wicked smile.`"Best be on your way."
He made to grab me and with the last of my energy I used the support of the man holding me to kick myself off the ground, kicking up the guard's torso to his head and using the momentum to flip myself backwards. The suddenness of my movement had surprised my captor, and his grip on my arms loosened as I flew over his head, landing in a crouch behind him. Before he could turn, I reached up and yanked on his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles, and rising to kick him in the small of his back, sending him stumbling into the guard. As the two men toppled to the ground in a heap, the other guard drew his weapon and charged. I side-stepped him easily and turned to Daryn, who was watching me with something like admiration.
Before I could say or do anything, the first guard was back on his feet, and all four men were surrounding me. My eyes darted back and forth between them as I figured out the best way to get out of this alive, and my heart sank at the sound of several pairs of armoured boots running towards us from the tower. I locked eyes with the first guard and he smiled, cruelly.
"Nowhere to run, little Warden." He sneered. Rage blinded me and I made to lunge at him with my bare hands, but the guard behind me grabbed me around the waist, lifting me off the ground as I kicked and struggled wildly, raining expletives down on them.
"I should have mentioned, you'll have to watch this one." Daryn said, with a sly grin. "She's small but she's a real pain in the stones."
The rest of the guards joined the first two and my hands were forced behind my back and my wrists shackled in iron restraints, along with my ankles. I roared with fury and frustration as they dragged me towards the tower. Daryn and his man stayed behind, apparently still trying to negotiate their payment. I craned my neck towards him.
"You'd better hope that I don't get out of here because if I do, I'm going to rip out your spine and shove it up your arse, you disgusting...mmph!" One of the guards shoved a dirty rag in my mouth and tied it behind my head, effectively gagging me.
"No, you won't. You don't kill people, remember?" He called back, dismissively, but his confident smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. The last image I had of him before I was dragged out of view was one of him gesticulating angrily at the guard, and despite the hopelessness of my situation I couldn't help but feel a little better that he seemed to be getting stiffed out of his reward.
I kept fighting against my bonds, as much as I could with both my hands and feet bound together, which turned out to be ineffectual and a huge waste of energy. The cut on my lip had reopened at some point during my struggle and blood trickled down my chin, and there was dried blood in my eyebrow from where Daryn had broken the skin with his gauntlet. I hoped absently that if they were going to kill me, they'd at least let me shower first.
I was half-dragged, half-carried past the high, ominous doors of the tower, down a long, luxuriously carpeted hallway, with walls adorned with wine-red tapestries and murals depicting bloody battles. Gagged as I was, all I could do was scowl and glare at the men who held me. I committed each of their faces to memory, just in case I somehow managed to get out. I was more than willing to break my no-killing policy for these bastards. I knew they were just doing their jobs, really. But then again, so were the Nazis. And I would 100% disembowel a Nazi.
I was hauled into a large, high-ceilinged room with stained-glass windows that resembled a throne-room. I assumed this was where the Arl received guests and, in times before said Arl was a soulless monster, requests and complaints from the citizens of Denerim. The floors were white tile and the walls were a pale-blue. It seemed off. Like the room was too light and airy to be a monster's lair. As soon as my eyes landed on Howe, however, all of the light and air in the room seemed to vanish. He was deep in conversation with three other men, standing with his back to the door on a raised platform at the far side of the room, where a marble throne stood atop several, carpeted stairs. The decadence of this place made my stomach churn. One of the men in his party noticed our entry and murmured to him, and he turned around, evidently annoyed by the disturbance.
"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, and the hairs on the back of my neck bristled at the sound of that snake's nasally voice echoing around the large hall. This was the man who had murdered Grayson's family.
"Apologies for the intrusion, m'lord." The senior guard stepped forward with a curt bow. "We found one of the Grey Wardens."
A spark of greedy interest replaced the irritated expression on his face, and he excused himself from his conversation with a gesture, making his way towards us. He took the steps two at a time in his eagerness to authenticate his prize. I glared at him, murderously, as he approached me.
"So, you got the girl Warden." He drawled, studying my face. "Well, perhaps you're not as utterly incompetent as I had thought. Of course, we would have liked the full set...but yes, this is good. Yes, Loghain will be most grateful that I've found you for him."
I rolled my eyes. Did everyone just take credit for everyone else's work here?
"Shall I send one of my men to bring word to the King?" The guard asked, eagerly.
The King? My, my, we are getting ahead of ourselves.
Howe stroked his chin, thoughtfully, watching me with detached interest.
"No…" He said, slowly. "Not yet. Take her downstairs, to Gort. Let him work on her for a while, see if we can't persuade her to tell us where her friends are hiding."
For a moment, I forgot about my gag and restraints, and I lunged forward, shouting furious but muffled threats at him.
"Remove her gag." He said, with an amused smirk. The gag was wrenched roughly from my mouth and I spat, glaring up at him.
"You can torture me all you want, I'll never tell you anything." I snarled, fiercely.
"Oh, come now. That's what they all say." He replied, in a bored voice. "Everyone has their breaking point. Eventually, everyone talks. And if you don't, I'm sure your gallant heroes will come to us. A beautiful, fierce girl like you, I'm sure one of the poor lads has fallen desperately in love with you. No?" He said, mockingly. I glared in response. "Yes, I suspected as much. Bryce's son is so like him. His father never could resist a pretty girl with a sword. Love is the greatest weakness. Make no mistake, you will bring them to me. Willingly or no."
"I will get out of here. And when I do I will cut off your arms and beat you to death with them you treacherous, loathsome, little...mmph!" The gag was promptly replaced, and I continued with my tirade, unable to stop despite the fact that nobody could make out what I was saying.
"Take her away." Howe said, dismissively, turning to rejoin his conversation.
They started to drag me away again, but seeing Howe had enraged me to the point of madness, and I writhed and struggled and threw myself around, making it almost impossible for any of them to keep a hold of me.
"Oh, sod this!" One of the guards yelled, and I was unconscious for the second time that day before I even felt the thud.
When I woke up, I was alone, and my restraints were gone. I was almost happy about it. Maybe happy isn't the right word. How happy can a girl be sitting in a dank cell littered with the bones of the previous occupants? Maybe relieved is a better word. I pushed myself shakily into a sitting position and looked around, trying to take stock of my surroundings, but I could barely see a thing. My left eye was swollen shut from that last blow to the face. I was in the dungeons, that much was clear. There was a torch flickering on the wall, but it was nearly spent, and all it did was cast a dim glow, throwing the sharp edges of the rock walls into fierce relief, casting ominous shadows.
I shivered in the cold air and wrapped my arms around myself, moving to sit with my back to the wall. As my mind cleared and the haze of unconsciousness lifted, so too did the numbness and my senses were assaulted with the cold and the pain. I didn't even have the energy to cry, but I knew I wouldn't sleep. My Grey Warden appetite roared, but I knew I couldn't have eaten a thing even if it had been an option. I shook my head, rising to my feet. I wasn't giving up yet. I ran my hands along the bars of my cell, crouching down to inspect the lock. It was simple enough. I had picked up enough from Zevran that I was quite certain I could pick it relatively easily, if I had the tools, which I didn't, and which I was unlikely to find in this four by two square of dark, dank squalor. I rattled the door out of frustration and collapsed to my knees, ready to let myself cry at last.
"So, you're awake." An unfamiliar voice whispered in the darkness. "When they brought you past, I thought you might have been dead already."
I sniffed, raising my head and peering out through the bars into the gloom, but seeing no one.
"I guess I'm not that lucky." I replied, drily. I had meant it as a joke, but once I said it, it didn't feel like one.
"What's your name?" The invisible stranger asked.
"Does it matter?" I replied, sullenly. When he didn't respond, I rolled my eyes. "It's Lauren. Who are you?"
"Soris." He replied, flatly.
"What did you do to earn a stay in this fine establishment, Soris?" I asked, moving to sit against the wall again.
"You have a sense of humour." He replied. "That won't last long in here."
"I don't know. It's kind of the basis of my entire personality. We'll see." I shrugged, though I didn't doubt he was right. "What's your crime, prisoner?"
"I attacked the Arl's son because he tried to rape my bride on our wedding day." He replied, numbly. I sat up a little straighter.
"Oh, Soris." I whispered to myself. "If it makes you feel any better, the Arl's son is also in one of these cells. Somewhere." I offered, unhelpfully. "When we get out of here, I'll hold him down myself if you want to knock out a few teeth before you kill him."
He laughed, humourlessly.
"A sense of humour and you still believe you're getting out of here." He said, sadly. "You didn't look like you were in very good shape when they carried you in. Who did that to you?"
"Oh, this?" I said, grinning to myself through the pain. "This is nothing. You should see the other guy."
He laughed again, but it was a bleak, hollow sound.
"Nah, I'm here because I'm a Grey Warden. Apparently people round here take exception to that."
"I heard a rumour that the Grey Wardens killed-"
"The King, yeah I heard that rumour too." I finished for him, bluntly.
"Not true, I take it?"
"Not true." I confirmed. "But now, Loghain's declared himself as the Queen's Regent and he's not going to be satisfied until all the able-bodied fighting men in Ferelden are embroiled in civil war, leaving the meek and the mild to fight off the Darkspawn when they march on the city."
"Loghain Mac Tir? The Hero of River Dane?" He asked, sounding surprised. It was the first emotion I had heard in his voice.
"That's the one." I said, grimly. "He's been driven to madness. He's so terrified of another Orlesian invasion that he's lost sight of what matters." He seemed to be listening intently, so I kept going, feeling the need to fill the silence. "But Loghain's a fighter, not a politician. He's leaving all of the decision-making to Howe. They're turning Ferelden into a living nightmare. I have to get out of here, Soris." I sighed, frowning. "I have to stop them."
"You? But...you're just a girl." He said, with what sounded like genuine concern in his voice. I laughed, bitterly.
"That's what I keep thinking." I muttered. "I have help. Friends. But for the first time, I'm really starting to believe that...they need me." I said, surprising myself with this revelation. "You know, I've never really thought that until now? I think that's what they call a cruel irony."
"Maybe your friends will come for you." He said, kindly. I shuddered at the thought.
"I hope not." I said, darkly. "That's what Howe wants. It's probably the only reason I'm still alive. He's hoping they'll come here looking for me. God, I hope they're smarter than I think they are. At least two of them will have the sense to know it's a bad idea. Wynne and Morrigan will be the voices of reason, I think. Probably Zevran too, he's very pragmatic. And Sten, he'll just think they're wasting time. Grayson's a sensible boy...he'll feel bad about it, but he knows the risks. Leliana will want to come for me. Or...actually, maybe she won't. She's on a Maker-given quest to help defeat the Blight, she won't want to go risking the other two Wardens to save one, that's just not a smart gamble. And she was really good at Wicked Grace, so she's probably done her fair share of gambling. She'll know the deck is stacked against them. But Alistair...Alistair won't want to leave without me. Saying that, he is kind of a follower. And he swore to Duncan that he would be worthy of the Grey Wardens. And we did have a conversation lately about how we're all expendable and the only thing that mattered was ending the Blight. Holy shit, Soris, I don't think any of them will want to come for me. My dog, Larry. Definitely Larry."
A long silence followed my stream of consciousness. Apparently Soris didn't know quite what to say about the fact that I had just realised that I was completely alone in the world. And I didn't know what to say about it either. It was true, I didn't want them to come for me. But going through all of their individual thought processes and finding myself expendable hurt me more than I would care to admit. Eventually, the elf broke the silence.
"So, you have a plan to get out then?"
"I'm not really a planner. I'm more of a think-on-your-feet type of girl." I said, with a shrug.
"Well...that really seems to be working for you." He replied, sarcastically. I grinned, looking in the direction of his voice.
"Well, it looks like someone's sense of humour isn't quite as absent as he thought." I pointed out. He snorted at this, and I chuckled, quietly. "What about you? Any thoughts?"
"Plenty." He sighed. "I've been down here for months. All I have are thoughts."
"Any of them plan-worthy?"
"If they were, would I still be sitting here?"
"Good point."
He was silent again for a while. I opened my mouth to speak and he interrupted.
"I'm tired. I think I'm going to try to sleep for a while." He said, softly. "You should try to get some rest, too. They'll be coming for you in the morning."
"They?" I blinked.
"I heard them talking." He said, apologetically. "You've got an appointment with Gort."
"I take it you have previous with this Gort?" I said, nervously.
"No." He replied. "But I've heard the screams. They take people away and then...they don't come back."
"Oh, great. Thanks for that. Sweet dreams to me, then." I snapped, though my anger wasn't with him. He fell quiet after that, and the silence and darkness combined were like a form of torture all by themselves.
Finally, I let myself cry. I wept, silently, too overwhelmed with emotion to know what specifically I was crying about. Last night, I'd fallen asleep in the warm embrace of the man I loved. Now I was alone, my friends weren't coming, Alistair would be heartbroken, and Grayson would blame himself. I was probably going to die in here. I felt so old. I felt old the way that mountains are old. And at the same time, I felt like a child. Scared and alone, my body in too much pain for my mind to even make sense of. And for the first time since before I could remember, I just really, really wanted my mum.
AN: Thank you to Kira Tamarion for taking the time to be my beta reader. It's very much appreciated.
If you're enjoying the story so far, or if you have any questions or comments, please leave me a little review :)
Chimera Spyke: There will definitely be some carnage! And I think there should be enough Alistair-fury to fill my quota. Thanks for your consisitent reviews, it really means a lot.
TheFanfictionMaster: I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I hope the switch from binge-reading to weekly installments doesn't throw you too much! Happy to have you :)
Guest: The Fort Drakon rescue has had a revamp. Stay tuned... :D