Cullen had kept all of his promises, working tirelessly with messengers as updates came and went regarding finding a Grey Warden and meeting with the Thanes. He wasted no time when it came to these matters, for trying to find a Warden proved more difficult than they originally thought. Of the legendary warriors already in the Deep Roads, the ones who had been there had heard their Calling, and were facing their final battle against the Blight. He kept her well informed, and through their work, she began to have a new respect for him. The way he delved into work, no matter the task, he did so with enthusiasm and youthful energy. When he sat on the dais to hear the concerns of his people, no problem was too minor for him to weigh in on.
Still trying to assimilate into their society, she attended these meetings to acquaint herself with daily life in the Hold. On a few occasions, attention was directed to her when the people complained of failing crops and tainted water. The Thane assured them that they were working on the situation, even going so far as to explain to them why the land was tainted and what their solution was. In her homeland, knowledge equaled power, and the less informed the population, the more control the nobility exerted, as the uneducated masses feared the unknown and submitted to their rulers.
If more of the nobility and the Chantry took the time to educate the people on matters, then perhaps mages would not be as feared. No, that wasn't her world or problem anymore. She had made a go of it, to make life better for mages, but the Hold Spirits made it clear all she did was make enemies, not progress.
While she waited for news of a Grey Warden and word from the Thanes, they had made advances clearing their land of the Blight's taint, remaining vigilant of new spread. Using the mark given to her by Hakkon, fields were cleansed in the hope that come spring there would be new growth. For everyone, that was the hope they needed to get through the last push of winter as stores grew low.
In the meantime, Evelyn settled into a routine of domesticity caring for her home. She enjoyed the company of her friends more and more as the Avvar culture was based around strong clan ties. Ros was always a welcome guest, finding meaning through their recent test of trust in sharing secrets. She added her knowledge to the mages' collective, having the most updated practices and theories from the Lowlands. Even Dorian found it within himself to be interested in what she had to offer.
Rylen and Cassandra took turns helping her train in case she ever found herself in need of escape again. They taught her how to move and a few tips on survival out in the Basin. Early each day, they'd start with drills to improve her footwork and end with a long endurance run. Each week she felt herself improve, able to push herself harder and harder.
"You're doing well lass. Keep this up and you'll be runnin' circles 'round us."
She bent down and took a handful of water from the cool brook, "I couldn't have done it without you, I feel more confident now that I could keep up with you gods forbid we are ever on the run again."
"The tricky part will be keepin' up with it. It's easy to make excuses not to practice a few times a week. I suggest findin' someone to train with, Cassandra for instance, or--"
"Or me," the two turned surprised to see the Thane, "either way you shouldn't go alone."
"You could stand me for that amount of time?" A cheeky smile curled her lips up. When they weren't working, she was incessantly teasing him.
"What better incentive is there than to run away from you," they all laughed and she made a face as if she was shocked and offended. "I wondered if you finished the letter to your father? I have a man who is going to take it to a dwarven merchant who is traveling north."
"I do, give me a moment to fetch it," she ran off in the direction of her humble home with excitement at finally getting to contact her kin. The content of the letter weighed heavy on her mind hoping, praying her father would understand. She thought she struck a nice balance between telling him the far-fetched truth and a white lie:
Dear Father,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and not too cross with me. Let me assure you that I'm alive and well living amongst the Avvar, though I cannot chance to tell you in what Hold I reside in case this letter is intercepted.
I'm sure this letter comes to you as a surprise, but I felt I owe you an explanation, as I'm not sure what the Knight-Commander has told you of my alleged "escape." While in the Frostback Basin during our first week, a group of hostile Avvar attacked our camp, killing everyone and then attempting to kidnap me. With my comrades dead I was forced to run, but ended up being taken in by one of the clans for protection from the hostile Avvar. The Avvar believe that my coming was foretold in a prophecy to end their misfortune, which is why they tried to kidnap me. And while it all seems far-fetched, the Avvar people do not seem to have a mage of my particular talents among them. Despite my own trials, I've found purpose with them and am committed to helping them.
I won't lie, at first I resisted and did everything in my power to try and return to you. The Thane, who I now consider a friend, was quite ready to tie me up, but he and I have since learned to play nice - you know how I can get when I put my mind to something! In the end, knowing that there was no way I could come home without receiving the harshest of punishments, I've accepted my new life and clan. I've met good, hard-working people who do not judge me for what I am. Mages are treated just as anyone else here. I'm free to live a full life with the freedoms that would've been denied me in the Circle.
I'm not sure when or if I can ever see you again, but please know that you're in my thoughts always. I miss you all terribly, but please do not mourn for the loss of my old life, for I am free to spread my wings now. I trust that you will do with this knowledge what you feel is best, and I will endeavor to stay in the good graces of the Thane so I can send you more letters in the future. I love and miss you so much words cannot convey their depth.
Your loving daughter,
Evie
After returning to the men, who were still conversing, Cullen was eyeing her amusingly, "Excited, are we?"
She had no idea she was beaming at handing over the letter, "Very, even though I'll never hear back, just to know that they've gotten it is enough to clear my conscience."
"So, there's a whole gaggle of troublesome Trevelyans out there? Have any sisters?" Rylen wiggled his eyebrows at her.
She smacked his arm, knowing all too well his heart was quite taken, "Two older ones, but they're married and they are the well-behaved ones. As is my eldest brother. My closest sibling, Owayne, now he's as much trouble as me. Most people think we're twins but he is two years older." A fond smile and a far-off stare had her deep into old memories. When the Thane cleared his throat, she snapped out of it, "Thank you again for doing this. I know you have so much you’re trying to wrestle with, I appreciate it." As they smiled at each other, there was a strange warmth in his gaze. She was unsure why but it heated her face as she basked in its subtle tenderness.
"It's my pleasure, Trevelyan. I'll hand this off right away," with a nod to them both, she watched him leave full of anticipation.
Rylen came to stand next to her, "I'm glad you two are gettin' along. He's a good man, truly."
"Your loyalty speaks volumes. Watching him perform his duties within the Hold has given me a new admiration for him. It seems all he does is work."
"Aye, sometimes it's hard for me to pull him away for an evenin'."
"Everyone needs a break, even him. I don't suppose work and duty is the reason he's unwed?"
His face turned to one of sympathy, "No. If he had a wife, she'd be one lucky woman. He'd move heaven and earth for her."
"From what I gathered, he was married. What happened?"
"It's not a tale for me to tell, as it's a right painful one. I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready." A thoughtful silence fell as Cullen disappeared into the village bustle. "Speakin' of women, any chance you're stay over with Ros again?" His sly smile broke the tension and she swatted him again with a chuckle.
"You're a good man too, Rylen. Ros is lucky to have you. Any chance come Wintersend there will be an announcement?"
He smiled, "Lady willin', we find a way to tell Cullen. I don't want to take her away from him when he needs her most with everythin' going on."
"Not many men would have the patience to wait. You're a true friend."
"What about you, any men strike yer fancy?"
"Like the Thane, there's much to do. I'm happy with my newfound purpose for the time being. I fear I wouldn't have the time to give him the attention he'd need." He shrugged at her and the two meandered back to the village to begin the day.
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"Thane, you cannot wait much longer."
He raked his fingers through his blonde and slightly graying hair pacing in front of the ethereal fire of the Hold. "No, I promised her I would not do that. We have many irons in the fire, and this, now, is not possible!" Rarely did he have to argue with the Hold Spirits, but this was utterly absurd and badly timed.
"Then you forfeit your title. The Land of Dreams whispers of her coming capture and forced union with another. This is but a thread in the woven fabric of time, albeit the most vibrant and thus the most likely of outcomes."
"If you will not do what is best for the clan, selfishly allowing others to take her away, then you must step down."
"Who's coming for her? Why can't I simply protect her from being abducted?"
The Warrior spoke up, "It matters not who comes for her, for if you fail, the Phoenix will come back to destroy us! Even then you will still be Thane of nothing. Would you doom us all simply to protect your family's legacy? This cannot be allowed to transpire!"
"I don't believe Evelyn would do such a thing."
"No, she would not, but under the influence of evil, she would have no choice," Wisdom's calming voice brought the conversation back to a reasonable tone.
"What do you mean?"
"The land is not the only thing that was tainted by the darkspawn. The veins of the Mountain-Father have been corrupted as well. The firebird should be wary of such a danger as should all of the Hold's mages."
Cullen wiped a hand down his face, "And all of this is why I have to marry her?"
"She requires the protection of a name, be it yours or someone else who will hold the title of Thane within the clan," the leathery face of the old woman stated matter-of-factly.
"A name? How will that--"
"Boy, you try my patience! Have we ever steered you wrong in the eight years you have led our people? Do we not deserve your respect?" She rose up scowling down at him like an old crow, "A name and the title of Lady of the Hold will give her immunity from harm as she goes about the Basin to cleanse the land. The Thanes and their people would not risk war with us by harming her, with the exception of Wolf-Fang Hold. She should not go there without ample protection even with her new abilities." He sighed at the rationale knowing that they were right. The Avvar people would respect the title in all of its aspects; its high rank within their society, the wisdom one in leadership possesses and the fact that should harm befall her the whole of Redhold would be at their gates demanding blood retribution. She was also fulfilling the prophecy to save them from the brink of extinction. Even if they had wanted to claim her for their own, bellies full of food and babes were considerably better than none.
At seeing him deflate, the Augur placed a hand on his shoulder, "I know this is not easy for you, and while I know you do not wish to betray the trust which you've built with her, what you're truly afraid of letting someone else into your life at the risk of losing them again." His words brought on a pained look laced with anger. It was not their way to mourn the circle of life and death, nor hold a grudge against nature as he had done all these years. He should've mourned and then moved on, but after the death of two wives in the same manner, he had given up. And giving up had brought him to this point. "You are a good Thane and have a big heart, talk to the Phoenix. She may understand."
The old traditional crow in her ceremonial feathers, took on a more mothering tone, "You have a decision to make young man. Wed the Phoenix or relinquish your title."
"How much time do I have to decide?"
"Prophecy and fate are slippery things, it is hard to say, but something is stirring. I would say you have until the Wintersend feast before fate will come to claim her if you do not."
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That night, in need of a drink and friendly advice, Cullen met with Rylen and Dorian at the Mead Hall. He had yet to tell his two closest friends of the problem he faced and found that with time running out, something needed to be done.
"Aye, I knew somethin' was troubling ye," Rylen replied after he told them what the Hold Spirits advised. "She's not an Avvar, which makes it more difficult to guess how she'd react if you just explained things to her."
Dorian smoothed out his mustache, "You two certainly have the bickering of a wedded couple down. Where she and I are from, there is a period of courtship with gifts and grand gestures of "love." Of course, as nobility, an arranged marriage is not a foreign idea to her."
"Yes, but on our way home from rescuing her from Stone-bear Hold, I told her I'd never force her to do that. Based on how she's reacted in the past, she won't take well when I take it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging circles at the headache this was giving him.
"Well, it seems your options are to speak with her about it and perhaps come to an arrangement, force her to marry you, or the less likely, make her fall madly in love with you." Cullen gave the mage a sour look. "Pray tell, what exactly are the stakes here?"
"I lose my Thaneship and risk losing her to another clan." Both men sat back sharing a look of shock. He decided to omit the part about dooming them all for now.
"Why didn't ye say something before? Korth's beard, you've been given challenges in the past to test your leadership, but to make you step down…" he trailed off looking towards the doors as the woman herself accompanied by Ros, Cassandra, Ilara and Dhara entered. Cullen quickly looked away, taking a large swig of mead. He had planned on talking through his problem tonight, not confronting it.
"Well isn’t this a happy coincidence. Now's your chance to grow some balls and talk to the woman." Cullen couldn't help but groan and slump his head into his arms on the table.
"Drunk already dear brother?" Ros placed a hand on his shoulder giving a smile to everyone at the table. He picked himself up and gave her a pointed look, "I was only joking, you never let yourself have any fun."
"What are you up to tonight?" He asked flatly.
"It happens to be Evie's birthday! We all dragged her out to celebrate. She's none to pleased but that's nothing some mead can't fix!"
Dorian uncrossed his legs and sat up, "Let us know when she's a few cups in, maybe by then our charming Thane will be able to speak with her."
"Oh," Rosalie's voice quieted a bit and she leaned down conspiratorially, "is this about what the Hold Spirits said?" He trusted his family, and one night over supper he told all three of the ultimatum handed to him.
"You told Ros, but not me?" Rylen frowned and he and Ros began an odd exchange of looks to which he just wearily shrugged at.
"I'll let you know when she's had a few and has forgiven us all for making such a big deal out of tonight." She scurried away to the bar as he began to protest, but it went unheard. He finished the contents of his tankard and sat back looking none too pleased. To make matters worse, he caught sight of Aysel sipping from her cup and staring desirously at him.
Since the last time he and Trevelyan had been seen together in the hall, Aysel had increased her presence around him. It wouldn't be so difficult to tolerate her if she wasn't trying so hard. It was if she always tried to tell him what he wanted to hear with no genuine thought or opinion. The way she watched him at times, as she was doing now, did make his blood pump hotter, but the betrayal of her wedding vows during her marriage to Bran was quick to cool his veins. The night she so brazenly slipped into his bedroom and into bed with him without a care was the last night he ever left his doors unlocked while she lived under his roof. Though nothing happened, she was quick to want a separation from him when their two-year commitment was over. As a free woman, there was nothing to stand in her way from pursuing him even as he rejected her time and time again. He wondered if she was purposely trying to wear him down in the hopes that one day he'd snap enough to do the unthinkable.
The laughter and cheers of the women celebrating broke him from his thoughts and he gazed at the woman sheepishly holding her mug up to join the others in cheers. In contrast, Trevelyan always spoke her mind and was quick to challenge him. She was fiercely loyal, having resisted him when she had first come to the Hold, but had also proved to be open-minded when the truth presented itself. If her conversion away from Andrastianism was any indication of her ability to live like an Avvar, to adapt or perish, she would prove to be wise. The biggest differences between her and his past two wives was her ability to fight and that she was a mage. Most Avvar women knew how to wield a blade in self-defense, but in the past, he had always been the protector of his women. They had been groomed to defend the home and Hold, rather than take the fight to their enemies. The Phoenix was surely capable of both and potentially more. If the scars about her face and the prominent one scored on her collarbone were any indication of the battles she survived then she was as formidable as the Spirits claim her to be.
As the evening wore on and he still had no intention of speaking with her about marriage tonight. But when he saw her alone at the bar, he knew he needed to at least take the opportunity to speak with her when he could in the hope that maybe he could help her understand eventually what was at stake.
"And what to do I owe this pleasure, oh illustrious Thane?" She was clearly feeling the effects of the mead, and he just shook his head chuckling at her endless sass.
"I wanted to pass on my well wishes for your birthday," he tried to conjure a charming smile, but the disbelief in his mind that he was actually attempting to woo her made it falter.
"Ros gave up my secret then? Hmph. What's this you're doing with your face?"
Slightly mortified for a second, he posed a question back, "What am I doing?”
"Smiling. You never smile at me." He could only stutter a few words before she cut him off, "It's a nice change, I'll take it as my birthday present."
"As you wish," he replied with a genuine smile. There was a glimmer in her eyes as she unabashedly studied his face.
"What brings you here tonight?" She leaned slightly over flirtatiously, and he blushed at having her full undivided attention. She wore a navy dress with embellishments about her shoulders and chest. The neckline was wider than it was deep showing off the scar on her collarbone that he had just been musing on. He found himself noting that she didn't need to wear revealing clothing as some women preferred, for her feminine curves more than made up for her Lowland propriety.
"I, um--"
"Evelyn dear, may I offer a toast to your namesday as well?" The sickeningly sweet voice of Aysel rang out from behind him. The two swiveled around to look at her holding a mug up, "May the past stay in the past and your future with us burn as brightly as you do. Happy birthday!" The three drank to the dubious toast eyeing each other with suspicion. Evelyn gave a polite, yet curt 'thank you' and turned back to the bar, but the dark-haired flirt wasn't finished with her. "Tell me, is there a man back in the Lowlands missing you? Surely, there has to be?"
He watched the Phoenix's jaw muscle clench as she took a sip before answering. Her eyes grew intense as if staring into a dark memory, "No, no one."
Aysel chuckled and leaned a hand onto his bicep, "I hear that Circle mages and Templars have very strict rules against fraternization."
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Trevelyan spun viciously with a dangerous look, "Fraternization. That's a big word for you. Are you sure you know what it means?" Cullen bit his lip at her quip, not needing to fuel the feud between the two and also wishing he was far away from them.
The hand that rested on him moved up his arm to his back. He was wearing a cotton shirt with his maroon mantle over top, it being a particularly chilly evening. Her hand wandered into his mantle rubbing at circles on his back. It was his turn for his jaw to clench at her touch as he tried to think of a way to get her hand off him.
Feigning amusement, his former sister-in-law's voice took on an edge, "I know enough to know you didn't follow such rules. That there were Templars seen looking for you. Was one your lover?" Her tone sweetened again, "Come you can tell us! Right, my Thane? In fact, a friend of mine in Wolf-Fang Hold said there was a Ser Aeron, I believe it was, who was particularly desperate to see you."
If the Phoenix was capable of breathing fire surely, she would've done so at that. Cullen felt a pang of hurt in his gut knowing that she had bedded the enemy. Though it shouldn't have felt like a betrayal, it did. "You know not of what you speak," she spat as her magic flickered in her veins and lit up in her eyes.
"Peace, Phoenix. I do not wish to fight with you on such a day. I had no idea it was such a delicate subject. In fact, I thought the news would've been welcomed. I will leave you to your drinks." She bowed her head to him sliding her hand out of his clothing finally, saying 'good evening' in Avvish to him.
Now gone, it seemed she took with her the mirth and easy-going nature of their former conversation. Both turned back to the bar and sipped their drinks a few times in awkward silence. He knew it was a bad idea to allow Trevelyan to provoke Aysel as she ruined his attempt to have an actual conversation with the mage.
"Who's Ser Aeron?" The question slipped out without thought. If she had been in love with one of those bastards, he wanted to know.
"Don't," it was a one-word warning to stop before he got too far ahead in his line of questioning.
Not quite sure why he chose that moment to have a deep conversation, could've been the drink or impulse, but he decided to open up to her. "The Templars killed my mother and indirectly my father, the last Thane. That's why I hate them. That's why we all hate them. We've always fought them through the eons, but in recent memory, that's the reason for it." He didn't look at her but heard her sigh. The deep wound had been torn open and Cullen sat there in a simmering rage as she simply sighed at his confession. How could she harbor love for such men? His voice was a low growl, "You were involved with Templars back at your Circle?"
At his menacing tone, she turned to face him. After another swig, he did the same meeting her glare with his. Their knees touched as she considered her words carefully. "I was," he could tell she was holding her anger in check. He did the same at the two-word explanation of her sins. "Why does that matter to you?" If he answered that, he'd have to admit to the reason for him coming to speak with her in the first place. His silence only piqued her suspicion. She was intelligent and the longer she was with them, the better she became at reading them. "You want to have this talk now, then let's have it." She finished the tankard in her hand, slamming it down on the mead-soaked bar, never breaking away from his eyes. Their intertwined knees squeezed together, as if not allowing the other to escape. Her voice was quiet with a razor edge, "What do you want to know?"
"Nothing. I know everything I need to know already."
"Oh, so you've already come to your own conclusions then about me without even asking anything. You can just see into my past then and know everything about me." She shook her head, "You know nothing, just as Aysel did."
"Then what am I to think of you? What kind of person allows themselves to be taken by those men?" He spat venomously lost in the feelings of the past.
"The kind who don't have a choice." Her anger turned to pain, her voice shook, "I was raped. For years." Immediately, his rage was whisked away, replaced by shame at his words. "Now do you know what to think of me? Have I been ruined in the eyes of the Avvar, or just you? Am I to live in shame?" He blinked and stammered unsure how to even begin to apologize to her. Cursing himself inwardly at letting his emotions get the better of him, he shook his head wondering why the two of them constantly misunderstood each other. "For what it's worth, you have my sympathies for your parents' deaths, especially your mother. I know what they do to mages firsthand." And with that she walked back over to her friends, putting on a mask to hide her troubles. Though he watched her, she didn't once look at him.
When he returned to his own table, the look of defeat told his friends all they needed to know. With the night ruined in spectacular fashion, the Thane slunk back home feeling worse than he had knowing now there was only one solution to his predicament; he would have to force her to marry him, for how could she ever even civilly agree to it now.
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The next day, Evelyn observed Cullen avoiding her. He quite literally stopped and changed directions to not have to pass her in the village square on her way to see a healer. For the first time in a while, she had a night terror and injured her arm superficially. She sighed, knowing that she over-reacted last night, not being as fragile as she came off about her ordeal. The years had hardened her resolve, and while no one should have suffered in such a way, she came out stronger, tougher and more resilient against adversity.
He was clearly too embarrassed over the situation to approach her, so she was going to have to put things right. They had been working so well together, that she'd hate to lose their momentum. Marching down to the training grounds, she knew how she was going to get his attention without giving him a means of escape. Descending the steps and grabbing a practice sword in passing, she couldn't have hoped for a better window as he instructed the young warriors alongside Cassandra.
"A simple faint to the left then back, can open them up to a--"
Her blade clanged against his, "A surprise attack!" Without missing a beat, he defended against her offensive strikes with a natural ease.
"Trevelyan, what are you doing?" He said it as if she was touched in the head. Cassandra was holding back a smile and the other warriors wore a mixture of shock and amusement.
"Sparring, what are you doing? Done being an arse?" At that, the raven-haired warrior got the hint and ushered the others over to the training dummies giving them a bit of privacy. She grated their blades together as she stepped closer to his face, "Well, are you?"
His countenance drooped, as did his blade, "I hope so. I wasn't trying to be--"
"Sword up, Rutherford. Or do you yield?" That seemed to light a fire in his amber eyes and he quickly regained his fighting stance. "For all the months I've been here, how it is we haven't sparred?"
"I didn't know you could use a sword, seeing as you have magic." They exchanged the customary warm-up strikes before adding in more sophisticated moves. As she increased the strength of her blows, so did he.
"I use a magic blade, called a spirit blade," she rotated her hips to the side so he could see the hilt. "Haven't you seen me wear this?"
"I have, I just thought it was a memento or… something."
He went to land a large strike over her head, but she used the momentum to spin away in a flourish, "Admit it, you thought I was mad like everyone else did. I heard the snickering and sneers at it. 'There goes the silly Lowlander and her bladeless sword again,' am I right?"
He chuckled, "You're making it hard for me not to come off as an arse."
"I knew it!" He unstrapped the shield from his arm and threw it away. Her eyes followed it, then took on a haughty air, "Am I not challenge enough for you? So be it. Let's spar for real now, that was the warm-up." She shook out her limbs and rolled her shoulders, while the Thane just lowered his gaze intensely at her.
"As you wish," something about his gaze was unnerving. It was cool and calculating as if mentally already twenty moves ahead of her and searching for weak points. "Who taught you your blade work?"
"Templars," both held their concentration at the mention of that raw subject. She charged, but he had her on the defensive quickly executing a riposte.
The blunt metal squealed a high note as he stepped in with the agility of a cat to grab her wrists, "I'll admit, they taught you the basics well, but if you want to survive here, you better train with me." After concluding, he shoved her away as if she were nothing. Staggering and finding her footing she gritted her teeth and flung herself into another quick barrage of stabs and slashes, only to get whacked on her lower back. She straightened and turned away at the blow, shaking off the hit before reading herself. "What happened to your arm?" Ilara had wrapped it for added support while the spell took effect.
"Night terror." His intensity faltered slightly, but she changed the subject. "You're offering to train me?" She squared up, but paused a moment before initiating the round, "You think the two of us can go that long without killing each other?" She smirked at him finding it humorous that they'd risk angering each other while holding sharp objects.
"How much worse could it get?" Catching her off guard, he lunged and she struggled to fend him off as he disarmed her. Her sword flew off to the right, but before he could land the hit, she grabbed the Everite hilt at her hip brandishing it in her defense. A hum of magic flowed into the weapon and an ethereal golden blade shot out. When their swords connected inches from her face it sparked, casting her face in its glow.
"Worse would be me using my magic on you," she pushed him away as he studied the magical weapon. With the blade in her right hand, her left conjured a flame. Once again, his hand flexed on the hilt of his sword as his eyes strategized on how to conquer this new foe. Before it went any further though, she retracted her mana and placed the spirit blade back on her belt. "I think we should leave that for another day. It's best to have a healer on hand anyway, " she scrunched up her face teasingly as he relaxed and walked over to put their swords back.
When he was done, he turned back to her with a concerned expression, his shoulders sagged slightly, "Are we alright?"
A small smile peaked at the corner of her lips, "Yeah. I'm not as fragile as I made myself out to be about it last night."
He nodded solemnly, "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. And ruined your birthday."
"Well, you can always make it up to me," he quirked an eyebrow up, "next time Aysel ruins a perfectly good night, let me burn the pants off her. She won't feel a thing. Come on, it'll be funny! She deserves it."
His chest rumbled with a laugh, but then a thought seemed to flood his mind, "Aysel said a friend in Wolf-Fang Hold told her about the Templars who were looking for you and this Ser Aeron. Maybe Thane Axlan didn't kill them…" Alarm widened his eyes, as he frowned, "I need to speak with Cassandra, excuse me."
"But…"
His long strides had already taken him a good distance from her as he yelled back, "I'll tell you later!" Whatever it was it wasn't good, sending a shiver down her spine. An uneasiness churned in her gut, and as she returned to her home to prepare food and wash up, it persisted, gnawing at her. The only thing that brought her comfort was knowing that whatever it was, Cullen seemed to be taking care of it. It was an odd feeling to put faith in someone else to protect her when she was so used to having to fight her own battles. There was something romantic about it and yet, there was nothing of the sort between them; he was simply doing his duty.
A few hours later, Cassandra came by with a group of warriors. Evelyn had heard them coming and stepped outside to see what was going on. "The Thane believes Wolf-Fang Hold is working with Templars to kidnap you. We've had word from our contact that the Templars were seen going to speak with Thane Axlan, but they were not seen again. I don't mean to frighten you, but they could be outside the walls trying to find a way in."
"T-thank you for letting me know, I'll be vigilant."
"These men will guard you. I've had patrols out searching for suspicious activity and doubled the watch. For now, you should stay here where we know where you are. I'll send updates as I have them." She nodded tensely back as she felt a slight tremble in her hands. She had always been on the other side of mage hunts. In the end, they always got their quarry.
As night fell, all was quiet, and yet no reports had come. She supposed no news was good news. Having stood guard all day, she made some extra spiced stew for the men outside. Unsure as to whether they'd like a Lowlander dish, she took a chance in the hopes of even striking up a conversation as they shared cultures. She wrapped her mantle around her and scooped up several bowls in one arm and the cast iron pot in the other. Kicking open the door gently with her foot, she shouldered her way out, "Would you men like any…" No one was there. She froze rationally thinking they had just stepped into the wood line, but the trees were sparse enough that she could see no one out there.
She immediately dropped the bowls and the pot and took a few down the path to the village when a dark figure appeared. It was hard to tell anything about them, but they weren't all that large with a cloak billowing in the breeze. Her mana began to rise up, but as it did, she was hit by a familiar sensation. Templar magic. It pommeled her to the ground as she took hit after hit in succession. They rendered her stupefied as they bound her hands in front of her. Before placing a sack over her head, she received a blow knocking her out. As she looked again towards the road before falling unconscious, she swore when the dark figure turned to walk away she saw the silhouette of a woman.
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After tightening security and establishing guard rotations, the Thane and his council walked through the village square headed towards his longhouse where Rosalie had prepared a meal for everyone after skipping lunch working tirelessly to secure the area. A light rain had begun to fall, which he was glad for. Ill weather made just about everything harder in the Basin. If something was afoot then he hoped the weather made it just that more difficult for them. Just as they reached the doors, a flare of purple and blue fire shot into the sky coming from vent in the roof of the Augur’s Hut.
Augur Dusan's face lit up in horror, "Lady preserve us, something has happened, quickly!"
"Cassandra, Rylen, go find Evelyn! I'll meet you there!" They sped off in opposite directions as quickly as they could knowing that if the Spirits were alerting them to something, it probably had to do with her.
Barging into the Augur's Hut, the spirits flew about and hissed in a frenzy. Dusan and Dhara set to calming them as they all spoke at one time seemingly confused. Their gentle attempt to gain their attention was wasting time he knew they did not have, "Enough!" He roared and they froze in mid-air, "Tell us what has happened!"
The Great Warrior spoke, "We've been infiltrated and the Phoenix has been taken by Wolf-Fang Hold with the assistance of Templars! They had help from within our Hold. There are traitors in our midst."
At that, Cullen rushed out of the hut calling back, "Dusan, Dhara, speak with them and come find me! I need to go after her!" The door shut before he heard their answer as she sprinted toward Evelyn's home. Rylen was already heading his way, and fell in with him as they reached her hut.
There were multiple tracks found around the home and a large spot of disturbed ground where there seemed to be a struggle. A pot of stew and bowls were scattered about along with Evelyn's mantle and dress. Some blood also dotted the scene. His heart raced knowing full well the Phoenix was powerless and most likely unconscious being dragged back to that damn den of wolves.
"How long have they been gone for?"
Rylen was stooped examining the ground with a torch, his trained falcon perched on his shoulder, "An hour or two judging by the water in their tracks." Cullen raked his hand through his wet hair in disbelief that there were people within the Hold who had helped them take her. That was a matter that could be handled by Augur Dusan and Dhara.
"Cassandra, gather soldiers whom you trust inexplicably, along with Bran and Dorian. Rylen, how many would you say there are?"
"Around eight." Cassandra nodded and quickly ran off to mobilize her people.
Dhara now joined them with news, "Thane, the men who volunteered for guard duty, they 'ere the traitors, and the whole kidnappin' was planned by Aysel, that cunning wench." Cullen felt his hackles rise, he had had a hunch earlier she was involved and he kicked himself for not detaining her sooner.
"Dhara, I need you and Dusan to stay and organize the defense while we're gone. Find Mia and have her find the traitors if they are still hiding within the Hold. She'll know what needs to be done, tell her I give her leave to do as she must," His voice was an octave above a growl.
"It will be done, my Thane." The lithe apprentice ran off into the dark damp night, pelts and skins fluttering about her.
"Cullen, I know you're worried, we'll find the lass." The two shared a knowing look that carried the memory of when he lost his mother. Rylen was a loyal friend and supported him fiercely through the death of his parents, sometimes helping him see reason through the red. He nodded his head, and a moment later, he pointed off towards the side of the humble dwelling. "Look, they tried to cover their tracks," and with that, he went in search of their entry point while Cullen awaited the arrival of their war party.
When Cassandra had at last arrived, Bran had brought Cullen armor and sword which he quickly threw on over his leathers before heading out. Rylen commanded the falcon to search and led them to the cliff face they had climbed in and out of. They had left the ropes behind which they most likely hulled the Phoenix up and over with. Evelyn was tall and solid muscle, they would've had a time trying to climb the slick rock with her slung over their shoulder. That alone told him that Axlan was not among the party in case they were caught. The man was a brute with incredible strength that even Cullen could not deny. The coward, he thought, getting his men to do the dirty work for him. As quick as they could through the cold rain they ran at a punishing pace to catch up with the enemy in hopes Evelyn was still intact and unmolested.
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image [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1128335716749938718/1144059372746584225/A_Ch.6.png?ex=66206352&is=660dee52&hm=9ec2e514c8d6aa58a15c1408e30924d3430f605dc2956269a358f1f9f474f9e6&]
"We need to stop for a moment and get our bearings."
"We know exactly where we are, Lowlander. Keep going."
"No. We stop and rest a moment. There's no sign we're being followed."
Evelyn's head lulled side to side against the cold Silverite armor of a Templar. The cold combined with the rain gave her a rude start as she came to. The bag over her head was suffocating as it was soaked and sticking to her face. Coughing the man holding her ripped it off. She shivered feeling as if she was naked. As she looked at herself, she wore only her shift which made her lighter to carry rather than in her heavy wool dress and fur mantle.
"Shit, she's waking up." He jostled her about and threw her down in the mud, her wet hair stuck about her face and neck. Her white shift stuck to her scandalously, though it was now darkened by the puddle in which she landed in. Her limbs felt heavy still from lack of mana and her appendages were frozen.
"Where are you taking me?" She tried her damnest to sit up, only to be kicked back down.
"Shut it, mage."
"Careful, Templar. Thane Axlan will not take kindly to you damaging his bride."
"Oh, for fucks sake," she was really getting tired of people kidnapping her so she'd marry them, "you Avvar really need to find a new way to find brides."
A blade was suddenly drawn to her throat, "Watch your words, Lowlander."
Through the fear, vulnerability and the crippling cold, she tried to keep her wits about her. One of the Templars stepped in and pushed the blade away. He helped her up and sat her at the base of a tree, where she hugged herself trying to muster any bit of warmth from all the shivering she was doing. The two groups, despite working together, seemed to be at odds with each other. A palpable tension filled the air, and knowing - hoping - her friends knew by now she was taken, she endeavored to kindle the flame of mistrust among them.
"I'm su-sur-prised you got permission from the Knight-Commander to hand me over to the Avvar. Would've thought I'd be headed back to the Circle for punishment." Dark looks shifted about from one man to the next. "And I thought the Templars were the sworn enemy of the Avvar? Oh, I see, you were too weak to take me yourselves so you needed the Templar's strength. I understand."
"Shut the fuck up, woman! We didn't need them!" She felt the man's warm breath on her face, too frozen to turn away. She held his eyes and shrugged. A hard shove from the Templar standing beside her had the man sprawled backward into the mud. The two sides closed on each other exchanging words of warning and insults.
With them distracted, she looked about but the rain reduced visibility. She sighed looking up to the sky when she spotted a blur circling above. From the many times she had caught the hunting parties leaving, she knew they used falcons to track game utilizing their superior eyesight. Hope began pumping adrenaline through her veins and she sat up straighter looking about in the tree line, but she didn't see anyone. When the bird began to move away she knew it hadn't seen her, and her heart sank. She needed to get their attention, for they had to be close enough to hear her scream.
With every ounce of strength, she could muster driven by desperation and fear, she stood and took off into the woods just far enough to yell at the top of her lungs before they caught her. "Rylen! Cassandra!" she sucked in a deep breath for one last scream as they were already on her, "CULLEN!" A kick to her back had her down in another puddle, gasping for air. The Avvar that was on her was holding her head down in the water, cursing at her. Another kicked her in the ribs over and over before the Templars were drawing their weapons on the natives. She cried out in pain holding her side, unable to see much as her hair was plastered about her eyes.
A low rumble, as if a horde of druffalos were stampeding their way, made her kidnappers pause their fighting to listen. Erupting out of the darkness were the warriors of Redhold, crashing into the enemy with practiced precision. Already there were two of the wolfish warriors dead, as the Templars closed ranks, unconcerned about anyone but their own. They formed a circle around her and she curled into a ball covering her vital organs as they fought around her, coming close to stepping on her. Seeing that they were outnumbered and surrounded, the Templars used their hostage to negotiate a truce.
Pulling her up by an arm with a blade to her throat, their Lieutenant opened with a threat, "Any closer and the mage dies! Don't think we won't, our superiors said to bring her back dead or alive. Alive preferably to be made example of, but we have sanction to kill her without cause." She swallowed hard, a bit panicked by their words. Her eyes looked to her friends, who wore fiercely terrifying expressions, even Dorian. From behind the circle of warriors, a tall figure wearing an iron helm of a lion stepped forward. It was only the second time she saw him wear it, the first time being the day they met. Cassandra and Rylen parted to make way for him, and even though they couldn't see his face, the intensity of his glowing amber eyes was enough to make them shift nervously. "I said back up!" The blade pressed into her skin and warm blood trickled down between her breasts.
"You are in no position to be making demands of me, Lowlander," his voice became even more menacing by the muffling of his helmet. "Give her to us and you may leave with your lives. I'll only offer once." Everyone stood still, yet if someone twitched she was afraid battle would resume in an instant.
The Lieutenant looked to his men, "She not worth dying for. We get as far as there," pointing to a large boulder in the distance, "and we'll set her free."
"No. You'll hand her over now and trust my word as Thane of this Hold that we will let you go."
"Not good enough," a sharp cold pain stabbed her. She cried out as the Lieutenant pulled his hidden blade from out of her gut. Several of the lions gasped and grimaced, but Cullen's eyes just darkened. "We can discuss this all night until you either do as I say or she bleeds out." One knee gave out as she weakened further from the cold and blood loss. He growled at her to stand, but she limply knelt unable to feel the iron grip of his hand on her bicep as he yanked her.
Her fingers were purple, and as she held her wound a faint red glow caught her attention. The mark! She wondered what it would do if she tried to use it. As he and Cullen argued, she looked for a weak spot in his armor. She would only have one chance, so it needed to count. Her eyes darted to Cullen's when Cassandra began in on the Lieutenant. His visor was up now, making it easier in the dark and rain to see his reaction. When she got his attention, she darted her eyes over to the Templar's leg just behind the knee. His eyes squinted as if in question, and Evelyn wiggled the fingers of her marked hand at him. The Thane's brow drew down and he gave a slight shake of his head. She didn't listen and nodded once before surprising the Templar with her touch.
It was for a second, but her forearm morphed into molten lava, burning the man's leg in two. A guttural yell escaped him and he ordered his men to kill her, uncaring about the Avvar surrounding them. The Phoenix closed her eyes and collapsed once more to the ground awaiting the cold stab of their steel but instead, a warmth enveloped her along with the tingle of a magical barrier. Large hands held her protectively and she heard a whispered 'Why don't you ever listen, or have your cloak on' spoken with gentle chastisement. She smiled against his chest, feeling a flood of relief, knowing that she was finally safe.
When all was quiet, he sat laying her in his arms as Dorian rushed over placing a hand on the wound to her gut. Rain dripped off his wet curly hair down on her, but she cared not, finally among friends. She felt herself mending though still terribly weak. Her voice had a rasp to it from screaming, "You crazy bastard, you almost got yourself killed."
He chuckled despite the circumstances, "Well, I wouldn't have had to do that if you would've let me handle it." As Dorian continued to work, Cullen's face grew concerned, as he moved some of her wet strands of hair off her face examining the deep colored bruise on her head, "They didn't touch you, did they?"
Dorian had sealed the stab wound and now pressed on her cracked ribs. She arched up in pain with a hiss, "No. They were to take me back to their hold, though I don't think the Templars planned to go along with that." She paused trying to move closer to him and absorb his warmth, "Do you mind, I'm freezing?" He and Dorian exchanged an unreadable look before he unlaced his coat and she curled up inside it with him. His heat immediately bled through her thin wet shift as she pressed against his rigid chest. The nerves burned as the feeling returned. Her face flushed, and while it felt nice, she became mortifying aware that she was making him a bit uncomfortable listening to him clear his throat a few times. "You didn't by chance bring my cloak with you?"
"I-I, we did," he motioned to two of the female warriors who helped her stand and took her a few paces away. With the help of Cassandra who held up the cloak for privacy, they pulled her shift over her head, discarding it and wrapped the cloak tightly around her naked body. She would've been more embarrassed had she not been freezing to death.
When she was as decent as she could be, Dorian passed her a vial of lyrium which perked her right up. Before they left, there was one thing she needed to do. "Hold a moment, I want to search for something." She began rummaging through the armor and pockets of the Templars. "Never mind, it's not here."
As they began to walk back, the Thane joined her, "What were you looking for?"
"My phylactery. It's a vial of my blood that the Templars use to hunt mages. When you enter the Circle they collect your blood, without a choice in the matter. I was hoping that if they had mine, I could destroy it making it harder for them to find me. It's odd that they wouldn't have had it." As she lost herself in thought for a bit, a sudden flash of memory jolted her out, "Cullen," she grabbed his arm, "when I was taken, there was a woman--"
"I know, it was Aysel. She betrayed us, as did the men who guarded you." She remembered her words about having men wrapped around her finger, apparently, she had called in her favors. "With any luck, Mia has arrested them all, or at least the ones foolish enough not to flee."
"What will you do with them?"
He didn't look at her, but set his jaw, "What I must in these circumstances." She didn't need to press him any further for details as she knew from the grim tone he meant to execute them for treason. All her years in the Circle she had always come to distrust most of the people around her, and she supposed the Avvar of Redhold never thought they'd ever be betrayed by their own. The clan was your extended family, and to break the unspoken oath was unthinkable. The thought of Aysel organizing these men to allow her to be taken, knowing what would happen to her had her blood running hot. Suddenly, she wasn't quite sure how she'd react when she saw the traitor, but she was going to do more than burn her pants off now.
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In the aftermath of the kidnapping, only two of the men had been caught, questioned and executed. A message was sent to Thane Axlan to come to retrieve his dead and warned that one more attack on her would mean war. He had men working on carving up the cliffside near Trevelyan's home to make it unclimbable. She had recovered from the ordeal almost overnight, joking darkly that she was getting used to it by now. The statement had his stomach in a knot, for no one should ever be used to the treatment she had endured. Especially after he ran into her again leaving the mage's hut for a new injury after another supposed nightmare.
Something needed to be done, and both fortunately and unfortunately, he knew what that was. Maybe now with this kidnapping fresh in her mind, she would understand if he explained. That or she'd be even more resistant to the idea. From the steps of the Great Hall, he looked out at the market. He watched her speaking with the woman who sold spices and herbs. She acted as if it was just another day, conversing politely and picking out what she needed. Her hair was braided back and she was neatly dressed, looking every inch as if she belonged there all along.
He didn't mind the idea of binding himself to her in marriage for a time. They had come to the understanding that duty took precedence over their squabbles, and even then, they were so used to arguing that it didn't strain too much on their friendship - at least he thought he could call it that. The memory of holding her in his arms last night flushed his face. He had felt so much of her as she huddled against him for warmth. Having been so distracted, the heat that settled in his core made him ignore the cold touches of her fingers. Instead, he focused on her lips which brushed against his pectoral as she spoke and her hard nipples dragging against him with each breath. His breath hitched for a moment as his heart began to beat a bit faster.
"My Thane," Augur Dusan greeted him, "I've spoken with the Spirits as asked. They say that this attempt to steal her away changes nothing. You still have until Wintersend to--"
"Good afternoon," the Phoenix chimed in with a smile.
"Phoenix," Dusan tipped his head, "good to see your spirit intact. How are you, child?"
She shrugged, "Just fine, I suppose. Grateful to be back thanks to all of you." She shyly tucked a loose hair behind her ear, "I apologize for interrupting, but I was hoping you had a moment to spare?" Dusan have him the same look Dorian had last night; it was a slight smile paired with the hope that something was happening between them.
"Of course. Thank you for the update, Augur." He put a hand to his chest and walked off toward his hut. "Is everything alright?" He motioned for them to step into the Great Hall for some privacy, already weary of the curious eyes on them from the clan.
"I-I just wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night," her words hung in the air as he swallowed hard, searching for what to say. "I feel like I did, a-and it was not my intention."
He shook his head trying to alleviate both of their awkwardness, "You didn't make me uncomfortable, y-your hands were just cold."
She chuckled, "I'm sure they were, I was freezing from being out there all but nak--" she cleared her throat, "Anyway, I don't suppose Axlan will be giving up anytime soon?"
"No, but I doubt he'll try that again knowing we'll be ready for it."
"Is there a way to stop it?" She scrunched up her face bracing for the answer as if already knowing what it was.
He stuttered a few syllables, just tell her, now is your chance. She asked, just tell her. Tell her! "Um, well there is..." his hand brushed through his hair resting on his neck rubbing out the tension settling there. Her brown eyes widened looking at him with anticipation, "You could… marry me." It was his turn to wince as he awaited the onslaught of her fury on the subject, but instead, she stood there chewing her lip with great annoyance.
"Really?" Her eyes narrowed, and her voice rang out with angry clarity through the hall, "Really!?"
Feeling instantly better having gotten it off his chest, his voice turned authoritative, "I'm not asking you to, I'm simply answering your question. Allow me to at least explain." They walked over to sit on one of the benches. She sat up straight at attention, still thoroughly agitated as he bent over his knees staring out at the fire. "The Spirits believe one way or another you will be Lady of the Hold. Whether you marry me or not, whomever you choose will be Thane due to your power. Having the name of the Thane will protect you, as an attack against you would then be an act of war." He sat back to gauge her reaction. She looked shocked and unsettled as she tugged at a piece of stray hair.
After a long pause, she whispered, "I don't want to marry you, or anyone."
"I know, but you may not have a choice," he mimicked her softness with a pained look.
Her head snapped over to him, "Are you going to force me?"
"No," he was not like the other Thanes. Even knowing he'd lose his Thaneship, after all she had been through he knew it wasn't right. Lady preserve him, the woman had been imprisoned in a Circle, raped, taken away from her loved ones and now was being fought over and kidnapped by the Thanes of the Basin. He would not be added to her list of horrors, even if he'd have no intention of ever harming her. His shoulders slumped in defeat feeling that he had made his choice.
"Thank you," she gently rested her hand on his arm but he shot up heading for the door.
He stopped and turned his head enough to see her out of his peripherals, "You should know, if you don't marry someone within Redhold by Wintersend, you will be taken and forced to do so in another Hold. So say the Spirits, if you have questions as to the truth of my words, I suggest to speak with them."
She scoffed, beside herself, "Wintersend is a week away! It sounds like either way I don't have a choice!" He didn't answer, nor could he bear to face her. Though it wasn't her fault, she was the reason he was to lose everything his family had worked so hard for. It would all be lost because he couldn't just force this woman to marry him. Trudging away to try and distract himself with work with what time remained of his Thaneship, he left her there to consider her options. He would have no more to do with it, and just leave it in the gods' hands. Whether she married Rylen or whoever, or left and came back to destroy them, he cared not. He would prepare and stand his ground against the currents of destiny for as long as he could, even if he had to stand alone. Perhaps the gods would be kinder to him in the next life.