AN: It was 19th of January, 2011, when I gathered courage to post my first fanfiction - a story Failed to Fail. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but I forgot to mark it as complete. And I was convinced no one would even notice the story, and if they would, they'd tell me my English was horrible and to stop writing. Intead, I got a lovely review that said, "Looking forward to more". A sentence that literally changed my life. :)

And so here we are now, on 19th of July, 2024 with the sequel. It will looselly follow the DAA plot and I will try to post once per month, but please have patience with me. :) And do let me know what you think and how you like it! :)

HUGE thanks to my amazing friend and beta reader, ShebasDawn, and my friend Nyusha - without their support, encouragement, and gentle poking, the sequel would forever remain a half-finished draft (the first draft of the prologue was written in 2020 xD).

Those Damn Crows

(Prologue)

Airam Surana was your typical nineteen-year-old lad. Perfectly ordinary, minus a couple of details, but those were totally irrelevant right now. A normal kid young man, perhaps a bit too idealistic and trusting, but with a great sense of humour (most of the time), and easy to get along with. If you didn't annoy him too much. But even then, the worst he'd do was to give you a chance to chill out for a few hours. And he was quick to forgive and forget (although you would be advised to not forget). He almost never held a grudge. Unless you did something abysmally stupid.

Like abducting his soon-to-be husband.

And just when everything was going so great, for once. They'd left Denerim a month ago. They found the secret road to Airam's old house, deep in the Brecilian forest and spent two blissful weeks just enjoying life, for once. Then they stopped by for a chat with the Poet Tree and ex-werewolves and then continued to Vigil's Keep, an ancient Avvar fortress in Amaranthine that used to belong to the Howes and that was now to be the new headquarters of the Fereldan Grey Wardens.

They took their sweet time, stopping in whichever place caught their interest, tasting local delicacies and wine. The only tiny spot on this perfection was the horses that Zevran had bought – he insisted that a Commander of the Grey needed to know how to ride.

Odilham was supposed to be their last stop before they reached the Vigil. They'd had a very pleasant night, just thinking of it made his ears feel hot, and they hadn't gone to sleep until the sky had started to pale, an hour or so before sunrise. So what, Zevran had said. The Keep had stood near Amaranthine for centuries; it was not likely to move now, just because they got up late.

Except Zevran hadn't gotten up late. 'Went to get you a sexy breakfast,' said the note scribbled on a napkin Airam found when he woke up around nine. The sky was blue and bright and promised a wonderful day, and when he read the note, he smiled and lay back down. Ten minutes later, he started to get impatient, but told himself to wait; he didn't know when exactly Zevran had left, or what was included in a 'sexy' breakfast.

And then there was a knock on the door. "Ser?" a timid, childish voice said. "I put the apples in the horses' saddlebags. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Airam let out a sigh of relief. That's where Zev went – to check on the horses. He pulled on his trousers and went to open the door. A boy, about ten years old, with bushy brown hair and big black eyes stared at him.

"Good morning," he said. "Thanks. I think that's all, we'll be leaving shortly after breakfast. Is Zev- I mean, my partner. A blond elf – it was him who asked you to do that, right? Is he in the dining room?" He'd thought Zev would bring the breakfast to their room, but he must've changed his mind.

"No, ser. He was putting on the horse's tack when I went to get the horses some apples for the trip, but when I came back he was gone. I did hurry, though," the boy added as if someone had suggested perhaps he hadn't. "I thought he might have forgotten something, so I came back to see if I could help, but he wasn't in the dining area. That's why I knocked."

Gone? Gone where? Airam stared at the boy, half amused. There was nowhere to have 'gone' here. The village had two streets, one inn and one tiny chapel. And he doubted Zev suddenly turned into a devoted Andrastian. Nonsense. Either the boy had somehow overlooked Zev… but he'd have to be dumb and blind, and he wasn't. Or something weird was going on.

"I'm Airam, by the way. And you are…"

"I'm Tommy! The innkeeper's son," the boy said proudly.

"Right. Tommy. Could you please show me where exactly you last saw him?" he asked, trying hard not to show the panic that was starting to rise in him.

"Yes ser!" Tommy said eagerly, a smile on his face. He took off running, only to turn around almost immediately when he remembered his manners, and come back. "Sorry ser, this way."

oOo

Tommy opened the stable door and led him to a spot right in front of one of the horse's stalls. "Your friend was right here," he said, literally pointing to a spot on the ground at the horse's side. "He was about to put on Lady's saddle. See, her tack is still here."

Airam looked around. Nothing was out of place as far as he could see. Rask ran around the whole stable, sniffing, but he didn't find any clues either.

But Zev wouldn't just leave, not without telling him. He was always going on about how they needed to be careful, not all nobles loved the Hero, he'd say, Loghain and Anora's supporters were just waiting for their chance, and there were also the Crows, who still had contracts on both of them… Airam used to laugh at it, but setting a petty trap, that was just like what the Crows would do.

"Tommy, have you seen any strangers in the village? Today or yesterday, anyone who doesn't belong?"

The boy's brow wrinkled thoughtfully. Finally he said, a tinge of regret in his voice, "No ser, nobody. You and your friend are the first visitors we've had in ages."

"I see." It was better that Tommy hadn't, he tried to convince himself. If they truly were Crows, they'd most likely hurt him. Or worse. "One last question. Let's say you wanted to hide somewhere nearby, where you could see the stable, but where no one could find you. Where would you go?"

"Oh, that's easy," the boy exclaimed, the smile back. "There's a hill near here with a place that's hard to find, not like a cave, exactly, it's too small to be a real cave, but it's big enough for several people to get in, and you can see the stable clear as day from there. It's my..." Tommy hesitated. "Well, I go there sometimes. To think and stuff."

"Brilliant!" Airam cut in. "Would you please take me there?"

"Sure, I can take you!" Tommy glanced down. "But, you should probably put on boots," he added, a little reluctantly. "The way is pretty rocky, and there could be snakes on the path."

Airam laughed. "Yes, that's probably a good idea." And he should also take his staff and daggers. Thank Andraste Zevran couldn't see him, half naked and unarmed, running to check potential danger. He'd never let him live it down. "I'll be right back. You wait here," he added to Rask, who just barked in agreement.

He sprinted to their room and looked around. What should he take? Weapons… healing potions, in case… in case the Crows really did hurt Zev. The thought had a sobering effect. If anything bad happened, he had to stay calm. He took a few breaths, then pulled on his shirt and leather armour – one of Wade's masterpieces, that he'd received as a gift from someone after the Archdemon's defeat – his leather boots, daggers, and a staff.

When he walked out, he saw Tommy patiently standing in the exact same spot, right next to Lady in the stables. "How far is it? Should we ride?" he asked.

"No ser, the path is too small for the horses."

Thank Andraste. "Alright, lead the way."

oOo

The hideout was along a small, winding footpath that led up to a modest hill. You couldn't see it until you were right on it, but once you were there and you turned around to look in the direction of the inn, you could see the stables clearly. "See?" Tommy said proudly. He frowned as he looked inside. "Hey, somebody's been here!" His tone was indignant.

Airam stepped in and looked around, followed by Rask. The mabari sniffed around the cave, then gave a sad whine. No trace of Zev here. Not that Airam expected it. This was the Crow's hideout before they attacked.

It wasn't big – just like the boy said, it wouldn't fit more than three or four adult humans. Not enough to pose a threat for Zev… unless they used some forbidden magic. Or poison. But if they'd killed him, why take away his body? The Crows wouldn't do that, they'd want to brag about it, send a message that they got him after all. Airam bit his nail. It didn't make any sense. Why would the Crows take him away? And where?

Tommy crouched down, looking intently into the underbrush to one side of the cave entrance. "Ser? Look at this." He picked up what looked like weeds someone had pulled up by the roots and then cast aside. "Someone brought milkweed up here." He held it out. "That doesn't grow up here. But why would anybody do that?"

"Do what?" Airam asked; herbalism was never his favourite subject. The weeds did seem vaguely familiar, and he'd bet a couple of years ago he'd know what it was and how it was used, right before the herbalism exam – but two hours later, he probably would've forgotten already.

"Milkweed is used to make a potion that we give to mares when they are foaling. It helps with pain. But it doesn't grow up here, which means somebody brought it here. Why would they do that?"

"Sedative," Airam muttered. "They wanted to drug him, not kill him." But why? Where were they taking him? Not Amaranthine, it was still two days away… Denerim? Maybe… If Ignacio betrayed them…

"Ser?" Tommy said uncertainly. "Why would anybody want to drug your friend?"

Airam looked at the boy and smiled. "Because they're fools who don't know what they've gotten themselves into. Let's go back to the inn before your father gets worried."

oOo

There was still a chance. The innkeeper explained that the reason why there was no port in the village was the rocky terrain; it was risky even for small fishing boats, let alone big ships fit to travel across the sea. The nearest such port was Amaranthine.

Airam considered his options. Riding to Amaranthine was probably the fastest… but there was a storm coming, and he wasn't a very good rider – ah, who was he kidding? He was pathetic at it. It was far more likely he'd end somewhere with a broken neck than in Amaranthine. A cart it was, then. It took a few extremely long minutes and seven gold coins to find a man willing to ride with a cart into the storm, but finally, they were on the way.

The moment he sat down in the cart, Rask curled at his feet, he pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package protected by glyphs, from his inner pocket. Inside was a stone, big as his fist, red and smooth. An Elven Stone, Grandpa called it. A rare magic artefact used for long-distance communication. What a pity Zevran didn't have one! But the Crows wouldn't let him keep it anyway.

He lifted the stone to his mouth. "Hello? Grandpa? Are you there? Zevran was taken by the Crows," he said. Did it work? The stone was giving a dim light, but there was no reaction. "I'm going to Amaranthine to stop them from taking him back to Antiva. If they've already sailed, I'll follow-"

"Don't you dare!" Grandpa's voice barked at him so loud he pulled the stone a bit away. Rask jumped up, giving a shocked bark. Airam distractedly scratched him behind his ears, as his Grandpa's voice kept coming through the stone.

"Do you hear me, boy? Go to Amaranthine. Find out as much as you can. But don't do anything else until I contact you!"

"Alright," Airam lied. There was no way he'd just do nothing and wait. If there was the slightest chance, he'd use it. There would be a lot of time to calm the old guy down once he was on a ship to Antiva.

oOo

By the time he had reached Amaranthine, it was raining butterflies and hamsters and the obnoxious dockmaster had refused to tell him about any private ships that might or might not have left for Antiva that day, not without the mayor's order. If the Warden was interested in the passenger line, it sailed to Antiva every Thursday, so the next one would be in two days.

It had taken another hour to get to the mayor and coerce convince him to cooperate and check the records. Which showed that a barquentine Vedetta had sailed out four hours ago; after two more golden coins had clinked into the dockmaster's pocket, he'd remembered the crew had been in a hurry, as if they had demons after them. Was there a blond elf among them? Maybe? He didn't generally pay much attention to those – to elves.

Airam had almost regretted it when the man stopped himself. He'd have loved to have a reason to vent some of his frustration by freezing him to the bone. Nevermind. He had no time for fools. He had to go after Zevran. Now. So he'd turned to the mayor with a perfectly sensible request to have a ship ready to sail to Antiva immediately. And the mayor had refused. The Arl, the Hero of Ferelden, the Warden Commander – none of that mattered. Not even an annoyed, growling mabari. No was still no.

As far as Airam was concerned, one small Blizzard was quite an appropriate reaction. Alright, maybe it wasn't that small, but he hadn't completely lost control. The snow only covered the area around (and inside) the dockmaster's office, and the layer was barely two inches high.

The mayor was terrified but still didn't budge. "You need to calm down, my Lord," he kept repeating.

Airam took a deep breath. Why was he surrounded by fools? Don't go anywhere, don't do anything, just wait. Didn't they realise that Zevran was in danger? The only competent person he'd met today was Tommy. This guy, however, better watch his tongue.

One more silly excuse and he might become an ice statue. Or maybe an ice bug. He'd heard rumours about this one ice mage who turned her enemies into pretty butterflies before freezing them, then exported them as jewellery to Orlais. Maybe he should try something similar. But less girlish. For example, this annoying fool would be a great… he frowned in concentration, and the mayor's bald brow became covered in droplets of sweat.

"Hamster. Definitely."

The mayor blinked twice. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said I am calm," Airam snapped. "I just don't understand why, in a port city second only to Denerim, it's impossible to find a single ship with a competent captain who would be able to sail out in–" five minutes, he wanted to say, but he knew the Hamster Fool would just start wailing about unreasonable demands again at that. "–as soon as possible."

The mayor sighed; his next words were spoken slowly and loudly, as if he was talking to a retard, thus significantly increasing his chances of becoming a permanent ice hamster. "As I already mentioned, a few times, in fact, when they sailed out the weather was good. Four hours can make all the difference in sailing. Had you arrived at that time as well, I could've arranged something. But I can't order anyone to risk their lives by sailing out into a windstorm."

What he said was true, but Airam wasn't ready to give up yet. "Yes? So what do they and all the other ships out there do now? Are there handy rest stops all the way to Antiva where they can dock and safely wait it out with a glass of mulled wine?"

"There are islands where they can dock, yes," the mayor retorted, still in that patient, slow tone. "But even if they aren't near any island, the ship they had is made for such journeys and can withstand the storm. The ships that are currently here are the smaller, heavier vessels of local merchants and fishermen. Eh, you know what? If you want to claim one of those, feel free. Who am I to stop you? But you won't get far. Maybe you'll manage to reach Alamar. If you're lucky."

Airam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If he was honest with himself, he knew everything the mayor said was true. "Still… You don't get it. I have to…" But the fight was gone. What was he even doing, terrifying this man. It was not his fault. "Is there an inn I can stay at to wait out the storm?" he asked.

"It'd be my honour if you stayed at my house," the man offered, visibly relieved. "I promise to do whatever I can to ensure you have a fast ship and a reliable crew ready as soon as possible."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it," he replied, well aware he should apologize, but… Tomorrow.

At that moment, he felt a warmth coming from the stone in his inner pocket. He looked at the mayor. "Could you wait outside for a minute?" he asked.

The mayor hurried to comply, looking almost happy, in fact.

"Where are you?!" Grandpa's voice shouted instead of 'hello' the moment he pulled the stone out.

"In Amaranthine. There's a huge windstorm going on, no ships can leave before tomorrow anyway," he explained grudgingly. Having to admit it aloud was like rubbing salt into your own wound.

"Good!" There was an unmistakable relief in Grandpa's voice. "Listen. Don't go anywhere even tomorrow. Go to the Vigil."

"You must be fucking kidding me!" The swear felt oddly relieving; maybe he should start using it.

"I've already informed Erwin, Alistair, Ignacio, our clan, and all my friends and allies that can help. We're all already working on a rescue plan. So don't do anything reckless. It will only make things more complicated."

"BUT!"

"Please, son. I swear I'll stop them from bringing him to Antiva. He'll be back with you soon. But I need to know that at least you are safe."

"I can't. Sorry, I can't do that. I'm-"

"You're a Grey Warden," Grandpa pressed. "The only one, in fact. You have to-"

"You don't need to remind me of that!" he burst out. "Alright! I get it! But if he's not back in two weeks, I swear I'll go to Antiva and freeze the whole place and then crush it to the finest powder! None of the Crows will survive! Not a single one! And you won't be able to stop me!"

"Why would I stop you? I'll give you a hand. And then you can end me if you want. But it won't come to that. I promise."

"Fine! Fine. I'll go to Warden's Keep. But keep me informed about everything."

"I will."

The stone became dull again and he tucked it back into his pocket. He looked at Rask, who was looking at him with eyes full of concern as if he understood how serious the situation was. "Come on, boy. We have a lot of work to do."

He should inform the mayor of the changed plans. And then he should start recruiting new Wardens as soon as possible so that there'd be someone he could leave the Keep to if it came to that. He should also work on his ice magic. He'd need all the power he could get to get those Antivan cretins.

Damn those Crows.