"Here's the prisoner, Thane." The grating sound of the heavy iron chains scraped against the floor as they dragged the man in. He was uncooperative at first, but after a month of solitary confinement in a hole in the ground and some feminine persuasion from Aysel, he finally broke. It wasn't hard once the lyrium withdrawal began, slowly torturing him into submission. Even now his eyes were strained with pain and his skin was pale and clammy.
"Give him a draught of lyrium, I think he's earned it," the Thane says with a wolfish smirk. When handed to him his eyes widen and the prisoner fumbles with the cork, eagerly trying to get at the contents. Once open, he's quick to down it in one go, closing his eyes to feel the rejuvenating effects.
"Better?" The Templar nods, "Good. Now, to business. There is more lyrium where that comes from if you agree to help with the capture of the Phoenix."
"What do you want that filthy mage for?"
"Careful, she is to be my wife. Bear my children."
The ragged prisoner scoffs wickedly, "She is no unsoiled dove."
Axlan lowers his dangerous gaze on him, "Not a dove, a firebird. Among my people, she has a great destiny ahead of her. I too have plans for which I require her skills with. You will help me subdue her. She's caused the other Thanes nothing but trouble from what I hear, I don't plan to make the same mistakes." The Templar shakes his head believing he has a choice in the matter. The burly Thane hulls the man up by his throat with ease, "Help or die, which will it be Templar?"
He manages to strangle out, "Help!"
Axlan drops the man, pleased as he gets his way - he always gets his way. "Tell me, Templar, what do they call you?"
Still on the ground gasping for breath, he looks up, "Ser Ryker Aeron."
"Well, Ryker, we better get you ready. I know exactly where our little bird will be tomorrow."
----------------------------------------
Evelyn's progress through the Frostback Basin was slow and treacherous. Between the many hazards of the wildlife and the rough landscape, she didn't make it as far as she wished. The only thing that would buy her more time was strategically fade stepping ever so often, causing the Thane to have to continually pick up her trail. Though she felt it was difficult enough to follow, her gut told her otherwise as she remembered the predatorial hunger in his eyes. Rylen's words also stuck in the back of her mind. He was so sure, talking to her as if she was a child, not knowing any better that his friend would catch her without issue. Then Cassandra's advice as she left, which she didn't think much of until she realized it was also a veiled warning that she too knew her Thane would catch her. He was on his way by now to find her, it had been two hours, and with his familiarity of the land and hunting skill, she knew it was only a matter of time before they were proved right.
Not only that, but Evelyn wasn't used to long, sustained runs and, despite her training, her stamina gave out soon after she left the Hold. She knew his pace would be quicker, having been conditioned for this kind of challenge. Cullen's physicality was no idle boast, as she well knew. Inwardly she struggled to decide between spending what energy she had on running or saving it for fighting, the same was thought of her mana. She had a much better chance against him in a fight than outrunning him, so with that, she began to search for a good place to stage an ambush. She'd knock him out and be on her way... somewhere. Her torn feelings were making it hard for her to think like the warrior she knew herself to be.
Finding a suitable place for her ambush, she immediately set to casting wards and traps for him. She climbed a tree to wait and conserve her strength for the coming fight. The former Knight-Enchanter focused herself for battle, strategizing in her head how best to engage him. It was proving difficult to plan since she wasn't actually trying to kill him. How could she live having done that to his family, to Rosalie? Sighing heavily, she hated having to resort to using her spirit blade, and while she was skilled with it, Cullen was a master with a weapon. Pushing such defeatist thoughts from her mind, she steadied herself while listening for her adversary's approach.
The spot chosen for the ambush was a clearing within the forest to the northeast that had a dense canopy. Soon enough, he began to trip her signal wards unknowingly, causing her heart to beat faster and she forced herself to breathe. He was faster than she anticipated blundering through one after the other. This was not just any fight, this was a fight for her future. She would not be his stolen Lowlander bride, prophecy or not, he could find himself another mage. Closing her eyes, she let the rage from the previous night course through her. Every insult, his broken oath, the feel of him… her eyes snapped open. There was no room for sentimentality when her survival was at stake.
The swell and heat of her magic filled the clearing and when he had finally arrived, thinking himself concealed, she knew he felt the magic by the way he twitched. He may not understand what he was feeling, but she knew he sensed her presence. She waited high up in the tree watching him like a black widow would her unsuspecting dinner. After a few moments, she saw him walk into the clearing with no weapon drawn. When he reached the center he stopped, but the quiet ruffling of the bushes and tall grass continued. She looked around and saw his hunters hidden well in the trees and on the ground. If she hadn't been as still from her perch or expecting them, she would've never seen them. They were of no concern, however, as she knew they were only here to protect against unwelcome interference.
He flipped the visor of his unique helm up, "I know you're here, come out! You want your freedom, but I'm here to tame you, make you mine, Trevelyan!" She shook the tingling feeling his words stirred, giving her goosebumps. Evelyn dropped down from above at the edge of the clearing. As she rose to full height, he turned and unsheathed his sword and shield.
"Tame me," she scoffed, "you have no idea what I'm capable of."
"I think I have a sense," though the words themselves were a tainted jest, his face was still fixed for battle. She triggered the barrier trap he was standing on which paralyzed him in place. She fade stepped quickly to him with her staff blade to his throat. As close as she could be without touching, she studied his face, toying with him, "Tsk, tsk. Haven't fought a mage of any considerable talent I see. Are you sure you're up to it? Perhaps your Spirits should have warned you about me before you made a fool of yourself." She fade stepped back away from him again and released him from the barrier. "Well, by all means, try to tame me, Rutherford." She stood tall planting the end of her staff in the ground waiting for him to make the first move, which could only be one thing…
He did as expected and charged her, setting off a fire mine between them. He had at least prepared himself by wearing leather armor that fully covered his body. The flash of sudden light blinded him and he slashed through the air hitting nothing. She checked him in the back with her staff, having appeared behind him, sending him forward. She laughed when he went down, but he was quick to get back on his feet, having to swat his arching sword away with her staff only a moment later. She engaged him in melee all the while leading him to the next mine. She almost had him there when she went to hit him low on his left. He suddenly brought his shield up hitting her across the face causing her to stumble. He gave her a moment's reprieve to spit the blood from her mouth. It would seem the cold was not affecting his shoulder as Cassandra had told her.
She looked at him with renewed fury and if right on cue, brilliant firey wings shot forth. Evelyn's arm rose from her sides splaying out with the wings adding to the effect. For the briefest moment, his fighting posture dropped having seen it only once before. She used the opening to set the forest canopy above a blaze and call forth a wall of fire surrounding the clearing. Having startled the hidden hunters as well, they bordered the outside perimeter of the firewall wondering if their Thane's life was now truly in danger. She flexed her hand, showing them that she was in full control of the flames as they grew and shrank on command.
Debris from the burning canopy floated down and was enough to reduce the visibility to only a few feet out in front of them. As her wings faded, she whirled around making them trail around her before fade stepping behind him again out of sight. When she appeared, she was met by Rylen's face on the other side of the firewall. She glared at him in passing, remembering his earlier comment. Now his face wore a worried look as he looked on at the spectacle before him. She doubted whether or not many bride stealings happened to Avvar mages, and if they did they were probably very short due to most being healers, not renowned Knight-Enchanters from the Lowlands. Evelyn knew he couldn't give away her position without making Cullen forfeit this attempt, so she slowly stepped through the flame wall to stand next to him.
She tapped a finger to her chin with a pout on her lips to make it look as if she was thinking about how to toy with her prey. Snapping her fingers suddenly caused the flames to jump and with it both Rylen and Cullen, the latter of which was still searching for her amidst the smoke and debris. She gave a chesty laugh at their expense and reached for the hilt at her side. She heard the Thane begin to throw taunts at her, but they went ignored. She pulled the hilt from her belt and before anyone could blink, a gold ethereal blade shot forth. Evelyn whirled around slicing clean through a large tree trunk beside her. It creaked and groaned but held itself upright until she tipped it toward the clearing with a running leap. The tree fell slowly and as it did she ran further up its trunk until she was positioned right over the helpless Thane. When he looked up, his eyes widened at seeing both the tree and mage falling towards him. He rolled out of the way of the tree as she jumped, bringing her spirit blade down on his shield.
She didn't wait for him to get up before she continued her onslaught. Putting all the focus of her mana into her blade, the fires around them died. The magic of the blade cut through the branches of the tree like butter, sending limbs flying left and right. As it made contact with his shield it sparked with a bright flash of magic. The blade spun and twirled through the smoke, casting an eerie glow. She was used to fighting opponents with shields, as all her Templar sparring partners always used theirs. Her advantage was speed as the only weight she had to concern herself with was in the Everite hilt since the magic blade was weightless. Even so, Cullen kept pace, not seeming to tire as she was. Having slowed, he began to press his advantage putting her on the defensive. His hits were strong, too strong for one-handed blocks. As her momentum allowed, her free left hand shot fire at him singeing whatever it could find. One particular blast just missed his face.
"By the Gods woman!" he yelled at her while staggering back. At first, she thought it was out of rage at having almost burnt the skin off his face, but he was smiling. She took a lunging step forward, but unexpectedly he dropped his weapons to meet her by grabbing her wrists and pulling her against him. "I will prove myself worthy of you." She stared at him slack-jawed very confused.
"You are the most," she grunted in effort as she tried to escape him, "confounding man I've ever met!" She panted heavily cursing herself for issuing the challenge. Physically she was no match for him, as he dominated her with ease - a fact she enjoyed.
Struggling against him as he tried to get a grip on her to take her back to the Hold, a knowing smile tweaked at his mouth, "This seems oddly familiar."
"Stop talking," she gritted out, using his line from last night on him. She elbowed and kicked, finally knocking him away with a mind-blast spell. Before she could formulate her next move, the warning signal from the hunters carried through the air. The two immediately froze. "Cullen?" Her chest heaved, relieved by the unexpected reprieve from his assault. He seemed to already know what she wanted to ask.
"This is on hold until we deal with the threat," he ordered, not at all pleased by the interruption.
He looked to the wood line for his warriors who closed ranks around them. She heard the hunters further into the trees engaging whoever it was charging through the forest, but they were still getting closer. As the sound of running and rustling grew louder as if they were about to be amidst a stampede of animals, with howling leaps into the clearing the wolves were on them. Two came at her, and quickly picking up her spirit blade she caught one in mid-air cleaving him in two. As the man's blood exploded hitting her and some of the lions, they roared as they basked in the blood of their sworn enemy before charging ahead. The other man who dodged away from her blade now came for her with axe in hand. He grabbed both of her wrists, bringing her right one down to his mouth and biting her until she dropped the hilt. She pulled one of her arms away to unleash a torrent of fire upon him. The smell of his burning flesh filled her nostrils and his deafening screams attracted the attention of all, including that of their leader.
"Am I interrupting? I apologize for my lateness, but your invitation last night didn't specify what time of day you were issuing your challenge." The hulking mass that was Axlan Wolfsbane strode through the tree line. As he moved forward she moved back until she hit the trunk of the fallen tree that divided the clearing. Before he could grab her with his huge paw, she disappeared into the trunk reappearing on the other side. Axlan jumped and squatted atop the large trunk watching her with a fiendish grin. She grabbed her staff off her back in time to cast a fireball at one of the wolves charging her, then another at the man Cullen was fighting. As she hoped, that turned Cullen's attention to her and the other Thane. "I heard my fiery bride was finally out of your Hold, so I just had to see her."
"I am no one's bride." Evelyn was standing between the two Thanes. The fighting around them seemed to stop as they all fell into line behind their respective Thanes. She realized then her odds at escape had drastically decreased and that the most likely outcome now was that she was leaving here with one of them. Tiring with little remaining mana and no lyrium to bolster her power with, she wouldn't get far. It was like a dagger to her heart and spirits. The only way she'd get away cleanly is if they all killed each other. Looking to Cassandra, Rylen and even Cullen, she wasn't sure if their deaths were truly worth her freedom.
"You are risking a lot coming here on my land to take something that isn't yours." She didn't know what was going to happen so for once, she kept her mouth shut. "I would think after interrupting us last night, you would've listened to the Phoenix's warning."
"We'll see about that, blondie. I came to offer my bride an early wedding gift." Axlan looked to the tree line and out came Ser Aeron. Her heart all but stopped and her eyes widened. Her mind's eye betrayed her, taking her back and forth from the Basin to the Circle tower. Aeron was supposed to be dead, he died with the others months ago, or so she thought. He smiled that crooked smile at her, the one which churned her stomach. "I believe the two of you are well acquainted. He's been entertaining me with stories of you, I feel as if I know you intimately." There was no mistaking what he was alluding to. She felt some tears well in her eyes but blinked them away allowing her rage to overpower her shame.
"The only gift I'll accept from you is if you're offering up Ser Aeron's life to me." Her voice cracked a little, garnering smiles from the two men.
"Tempting, but he and I have already come to an agreement. But I think you'll find what I offer you even better than his life. This." He held a hand out to signal Aeron. He reached into his Templar armor to pull from it a small glass bauble on a chain.
"My phylactery." She unknowingly took a step towards him before stopping herself.
"I offer you your freedom. All I ask is that you come with me. What say you Phoenix?" This changed everything. If she could destroy her phylactery she'd be free of the Circle forever - free of Aeron forever. There were also consequences attached to such a gift, which came in the form of marriage to Axlan. For one brief moment, she considered his proposal, all the while listening to Cullen's soft coaxing behind her not to trust his word. She had learned Avvar marriages weren't forever, but there was this prophecy to consider. What if this marriage - her marriage - was not going to be a typical one, but more religious or symbolic? Could she take that chance? She gave her answer before she could lose her nerve.
"No."
Wolfsbane's face lost its luster, as every feature darkened. He shook his head disturbingly in disappointment. "I was hoping you'd come willingly. It would've made things… easier for you." A chill crept up her spine. The man was Aeron in beast-like form. "But you'll still be coming with me." The realization as to the secondary purpose of Aeron being here dawned on her too late. Having been so distracted by her phylactery, she hadn't noticed that he was already poised to silence her. She spun with the panic in her eyes clear meeting Cullen's concerned pair as Aeron's power seized her. With a strangled cry, she fell forward hitting the dirt and the battle was renewed with interest.
Her head rested on the soft soil, which was flying in every direction off the feet of the warriors nearby. Even though the fighting was going on around her, it sounded distant as her ears rang with the Templar's magic. She moved her arms up near her shoulders, grabbing at the forest floor that was now moving beneath her. Slowly her faculties returned and she kicked wildly with the foot she was being dragged by. She was dropped and when she flipped over, was met by the blades of the Thanes above her. Wolfsbane stepped purposely on her shin, pinning her in place. She reached over for her staff and clawed at it with her fingertips bringing it just within grabbing distance. Once in hand, she swung the blade impaling it into his leg. He groaned but kept his leg painfully on her. Impressed by his ability to ignore the blade in his leg while fighting off Cullen's quick attacks, she tested him further by twisting the blade. This time he howled at the pain and shifted his weight off of her to take a swing at her with his shield. She blocked it with her staff, pulling it out of his calf, and rolled backward out of the way of their duel.
Cullen yelled at her to run and she did just that. She leaped back over the fallen tree only to be slammed back down by a Templar's shield. As Aeron leapt down over her, he growled at her with a vicious snarl.
He punched her in the jaw, "Where do you think you're going, you filthy slut!" Taking advantage of her dazed state, he pinned her down readying to silence her again. She struggled but try as she might, the man knew just how to hold her so she couldn't move. He leaned down close to her face, holding her chin so he looked to the Thanes first, "We both know you don't belong to them, but for now, we'll have to play along until you and I can get out of this bloody Basin." She grit her teeth as he forcefully snapped her head back to him, "That's right. I have a plan to get us out of here, but you need to come with me back to Wolf-Fang Hold. Don't you want to see your family again? I can vouch for you, clear your name, and life can go back to normal. Well, for a price…"
She spit in his face, for no price would be worth going home to be at his mercy. A hand found her throat and squeezed hard making her vision fade. She was too weak to resist, but she tried. Seeing her in distress, a hard punch from Rylen sent him sprawling, allowing her to scramble away again gasping for air. Her staff blade caught on Aeron's side pocket as he fell away, tearing it and spilling its contents. With Rylen engaging him, he ignored the bottles of lyrium that now littered the ground. She greedily drank two of the small vials, feeling the surge of power imbue her very being with her mana.
Evelyn had a choice to make: flee, help Cullen or help Axlan. Freedom beckoned her to run, to forget the Avvar and go back to her life - if there was a life still waiting for her. Was there salvation in store for her or death? As she looked towards the wood line in the direction of home, she couldn't bring herself to take that first decisive step. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Cassandra holding off two wolves from getting to her Thane. The ferocity of her swings wasn't just from her practiced expertise but came from her inherent need to protect those she cared about. Rylen, having lost Aeron who cowardly ran off somewhere, jumped to her defense. Back to back, they fought off the enemy while shouting back and forth making sure the other was alright. Cullen, having not made it to one of his people in time before being cut down, flexed and launched himself at the enemy to avenge them. The sheer power coursing through him was breathtaking. Having grabbed the man who just felled his hunter, he held him down on his knees as his left arm lashed out knocking the incoming warrior out cold with his shield. The devastating hit barely seemed to register in his consciousness as his leonine glare was set on his prey kneeling before him. With one smooth slash, the wolf collapsed in a heap at his feet.
The Avvar, though stubborn and proud, were fiercely loyal to their clanmates. They lived and died for one another; both victory and loss were felt by all. It was an alien notion to someone who spent their life in a Circle under its corrupt authority. How many times had Aeron gotten away because the Circle couldn't afford to blacken the name of a member of the Order. How many times had both mages and Templars suffered as the Chantry sowed the seeds of hatred between them, never mind the fear of mages they planted through the populace.
However cautious they had been with her originally, had tried to accept her. They gave her a home, supplies and some befriended her even when she was, as the Thane put it, insufferable. Then there was the way in which they prayed and hoped that she'd be the one to save them as the prophecy foretold. To be revered rather than reviled made her want to be a better person. Not to mention Hakkon himself saving her, giving her strength when she asked for it. How could she deny their beliefs when she has been contacted by all three of their gods. Korth brought her to the Basin, the Lady aided in contacting her family and Hakkon unlocked her potential. She knew she had underutilized strengths that would remain useless as a Circle mage. Her father had even said so in his letter.
The decision became simple, she couldn't leave the hunters of Redhold to fight her battle without her. Not only had they intervened to save her from Axlan, but Cullen had told her to run. He could've done as his wolfish counterpart did and kept her where he could see her, but he had let her go, preferring her to be free than with Axlan. That action alone spoke volumes to her.
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In quick succession, she fried three wolves with immolation spells, turning the battle in the lions' favor. With Axlan's men finding themselves outnumbered, he ordered a hasty retreat. As they ran off back into the thick forest, she saw Aeron had reemerged to see what was going on. Rage renewed at the sight of him, her wings blazed forth once again like an angel of death. She yelled and fade stepped tackling and pinning him with her staff. He struggled but a knee to his groin stilled him until two of the hunters properly restrained him. Fire was dancing in her eyes as she stared at him clenching her jaw so tight her teeth began to hurt. Her nostrils flared trying to keep up with her rapid breathing. Cullen came up beside her also panting heavily and streaked with blood.
"Who is this man to you?" He pointed his slick blade at the Templar. Her emotions were raw as flashes of memories tried to separate her from reality. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Aeron's, nor hide the emotions threatening to spill forth.
Through the blending of her vision, she managed to whisper, "He's a monster." Cullen's eyes were on her, but she refused to meet them.
He stepped closer leaning slightly over her shoulder to not let the others hear them. "Is he the one who..."
"Yes. This is Ser Aeron." It was barely audible, but she knew he heard it when he suddenly straightened. He spun taking a menacing step towards Aeron, but she grabbed his shoulder halting him. "He and I have business to settle." He searched her eyes looking for any sign of doubt, but finding none he nodded firmly and resigned to setting his savage glare on their captive.
The two approached Aeron who was on his knees with a dagger at his throat. "Tell me," she steeled herself for her next words, though a lump formed in her throat, "do you remember what I'd say to you after each time you violated me?" The wavering look in his eyes showed that he did and that she was now in a position to make good on the threat. He swallowed hard and she reveled in finally following through on her promise. "Say it!" Her sudden outburst startled not only Aeron but some of the spectating Avvar.
"You said, one day you'd cut off every finger I… ever stuck inside you." She turned to the Thane, meeting his eyes for a moment before drawing the dagger he kept at his hip. She poked the tip to the pad of a finger as she held it up examining it. Cullen's eyes held a reassuring strength that assisted her in carrying out her will.
"Thane, when was this last sharpened?"
"Today," he growled out.
"Seems it's your lucky day Ryker, I won't have to saw through your bone. Your right hand, please." There was no forgiveness to be found within her, but that didn't mean she didn't want him to beg for it. His pleas went ignored as hers had long ago. She let him go on for a minute or two listening to the lies of insincere regret falling from his silver tongue in an attempt at self-preservation.
When she reached for his hand unconvinced, the Aeron she knew and reviled reemerged, trying to use his powers on her. Having used most of his lyrium in battle, it was of little consequence, though no less annoying. When his power negated her magic, she staggered, but the Thane was quick to steady her with an arm about the waist. "Be thankful to your Maker the Phoenix is merciful enough to only want to take your fingers. I would exact something higher," he rubbed his neck to get his point across.
"She is an abomination, a demon in human form that embodies the evil of the Void sent to drag us all down with her!" He was raving, the dark thoughts that occupied his mind could no longer be silenced, "The Maker has blessed me with the gifts to help her atone for her wicked nature. Do not let her deceive you, she is no savior! The Maker punishes us because of filth like you!" He spat at her, hate making him froth at the mouth.
Cullen threw off his helmet as he stepped forth to defend her honor before she could utter a word. Lines of blood crossed his features, and his looming presence cast the Templar in shadow, "You will hold your tongue, or it will be I who offers your life as a wedding gift!" The gravel in his voice made his deep voice all the more intense. She had never had someone come so readily to defend her.
Cullen nodded to the man on the Templar's right who presented her with his hand. She took his middle finger out of his fist pressing the blade at the joint above his knuckle. She stared balefully into his eyes as she sliced it off cleanly. His screams echoed through the forest causing the birds nearby to take flight. Those around them nodded in approval and Cullen stood with his arms crossed not taking his minacious eyes off Aeron. After a minute of respite, she took his pointer finger in the same manner. Blood poured from the nubs, pooling on the ground beneath them. After wiping the soiled blade on her pants, she handed it back to its owner. She sparked a flame on her fingertip and pressed it to each wound sealing it. She wasn't sure if he screamed louder from the cutting or the burning. Releasing him, he cradled his maimed hand breathing through his teeth.
"Where is my phylactery?" She coolly asked.
"Around my neck," he gritted out pitifully as his body contorted with pain. She hulled him up to his feet, grabbing him by the breastplate. As she reached for the chain around his neck, Aeron drew a dagger with his good hand. It all happened so fast, but before Aeron could bury it between her ribs, Cullen had stepped between them running him through. His leather armor had stopped the deadly blow, as the Templar was unable to gain good momentum with his swing. She stood frozen in shock watching the man who had haunted her for years take his last breath, sliding off the edge of a sword. Dead. His eyes stared up into the light unblinking, though she knew his soul was destined for the darkest depths of the Void. Cullen turned back to her, still in a state of dubiety after almost having a dagger slipped between her ribs. His expression softened and she forced herself to take a breath. That would be the last time Aeron would try to hurt her, but the fact brought no comfort.
What did was the hand grazing up her arm gently, the same one that had just killed her tormentor. Who protected her against him, and even if it was the first and last time that Cullen would have to do so against the odious Templar, he had been the only one to ever have done so. Again, he had defended her, and it brought forth a surge of odd feelings. The most profound to her was that he did it without thought, whether it was because it was his duty or something instinctive in him to act as a human shield, it drew her to him. At the same time, it frightened her to feel like she needed it. Priding herself on being independent and able to fight her own battles, the events of the past few months had made doing that difficult without aid. Having almost just met her end with her sentinel standing before her seeing threats where she had not, she felt like a bloody fool.
Especially when he held out the object she sought. She looked up at him as if she were a spirited Mabari who had just been broken by its trainer, "Is this what you were looking for?"
"My phylactery," her words were soft in embarrassment and awe. She held it up studying it in the waning sunlight shining through the canopy. "Without my blood, they'll not be able to find me so easily." She dropped it to the ground and placed her foot on top of it looking at Aeron as she shifted her weight crushing it. The glass chimed and crunched as she pivoted her foot down on it. After inspection, the only remnants of the bauble were the chain and finely ground glass, as the earth had already taken her blood from it.
She was officially an apostate, a mage living outside of Chantry authority, feeling both liberated and lonely at once. She was a deserter condemned to live as a pariah, and there was no going back. As she stared down at the ground she felt as if she was sinking into it, until a gentle squeeze on her shoulder broke the trance. A pair of honeyed eyes, no longer filled with their usual intensity, searched hers. He knew too she had sealed her fate cutting off the last tie to her old life. She blinked a few times trying to get her facial muscles to relax from the dread that had seized them.
"You handled that like an Avvar." Cullen wore a proud look. There were nods and voiced agreements made by the battered warriors around them. That should have bolstered her confidence in her, but it didn't. In fact, she felt exhausted and emotionally drained. When Cullen raised his sword back up to her ready to resume their challenge, she simply turned her head eyeing him wearily. The fight had gone out of her as the glow of her eyes dimmed, returning to their normal brown hue. He watched her with growing concern, as it was so unlike her to simply back down, especially in his case.
"I yield."
"What?"
She huffed beside herself at his apparent horrid hearing lately, "Shall I say it so the gods can hear?" Again, she echoed his own words from last night though her tone didn't reflect the amusement of it. "I yield!" Her shoulders slumped as she shrugged, shaking her head still fixated on Aeron's corpse. There were smiles all around at their Thane's success in finally binding the Phoenix to Redhold more permanently. Regardless of their personal opinion of her, there was no doubt of her great power and sometimes that alone was enough to sway hearts and minds.
Cullen, on the other hand, didn't look as smug as he did compared to the previous night's victory. She knew this whole situation was wearing on him as well, his telling countenance was one of relief. Sheathing his sword, he approached her with a tinge of apprehension, "You may reconsider that when I tell you I have to carry you all the way back to the Hold."
She slowly looked at him from under her brow with a death stare, "What?" It was like a sharp hiss and he grimaced slightly knowing how much she'd hate it.
"It's tradition," his hands were raised trying to push the blame back on eons of their customs.
"I'm going to need a minute then. Alone. With this body," nodding over to the dead Templar. He eyed her oddly but didn't want to press her with the details of what she intended to do. Giving order for the others to fan out and be on guard for the trek back home, they waited just past the tree line.
As long as she didn't see them that was as much privacy as she needed. She was going to burn the body anyway, but this latest discovery of Avvar tradition would see her honor him with the hottest, tallest pyre in all of the Frostback Basin. A primal surge of mana flowed up through her, causing her to glow in the shade of the trees. In one quick burst, her power exploded on the ground before her in fiery splendor. The force of everything she could muster in the brief immolation spell made her even stagger back a few steps. When the smoke cleared, nothing remained but a misshapen set of indistinguishable armor. And just like that, Ser Ryker Aeron was wiped from the face of the earth.
Stepping through the brush to join Cullen, Cassandra, Rylen and Dorian, her face was one of serene calm despite the dramatic outburst. It was a chapter of her life to put behind her for good - no more Chantry, Circle or Templars. "I'm ready," she stood directly in front of the man whom she would soon call husband waiting for the humiliation to begin.
He massaged the back of his neck sheepishly, "Typically, the bride doesn't make it this easy, even if she surrendered," even though it was their closest friends around them, he still kept his voice low.
She sighed heavily matching his volume, "Well, I'm rather sore from all this fighting and the last time I threw a punch at you things got a bit out of hand, so no, I won't be fighting you anymore today. Let's just get this over with." She held her arms out waiting, and he swiftly bent and threw her over his shoulder. The mage grunted as his thick arm held her firm against him, swaying along as he chose a brisk pace for their journey back.
An hour into their journey home, she observed the three trailing them exchanging suspicious looks, "Is this amusing or did you make a wager on the outcome and win?"
"Both," Rylen chuckled, making her lean an elbow on the Thane's back and collapsing her head in her palm somberly.
"I for one am happy to not only have you back among us, but as the future Lady of the Hold," Cassandra's words were jovial, yet her usual monotone did not reflect it. It seemed more of a reprimand to the others snickering away. "We need you now more than ever since Thane Axlan has just started a war."
"Aye, openly attacking us like that can only mean it's finally here." The Master of the Hunt ruffled his dark brown hair in thought, "I'll put our scouts on alert."
"And I'll begin to conduct regular patrols around the Hold," the Lead Warrior added.
"Will this affect our meetings with the other Thanes?" War or not, she still had the prophecy to contend with. With the matter of her marriage settled, regardless of not being happy about the outcome, she felt she had more clarity about her other problems. It was as if she was lost in the fog of confusion being pulled in too many directions at once. The path forward was now revealed allowing her mind to concentrate on her mission.
"It will not make things easy," Cullen grumbled. "Let's hope for now his focus remains on us and not the other holds."
"Could you not create an alliance with the others against him? Surely, your combined strength would deter violence?" It seemed a simple solution, at least to her.
"War is part of our way of life. Hakkon would release his wrath upon us if we attempted such a thing."
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Cullen huffed at her opinion and jostled her purposely making her elbow slip. When she regained her grip on him, she jabbed the elbow harder into his back, resuming her previous pose.
"Lady preserve me, Trevelyan, what is that smell, is that… is it your feet?"
"My boots are old, dirty and wet, what do you expect? I'm sorry I'm not a prim and proper flower to adorn your side. Better get used to it," she huffed from her perch upon his shoulder. "You're no breath of fresh air yourself. I smell," she craned her head over towards the back of his head, "man sweat, burnt leather and maybe a hint of wet dog."
"If you recall, we were just in battle."
"Exactly, I don't know why you're complaining, I'm not."
"Your feet are in my face."
"Well, you insisted upon carrying me like this. I'm afraid taking my boots off would only make things worse."
He made a disgusted sound, "When we get home, you're burning those boots. They are not coming into my house."
She rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see it, "Isn't it our house now?"
"Not until were wed. Until then, you abide by my word."
"Fine, well regardless, they are Antivian leather, I hope you plan on replacing them! They are very expensive."
"Our leather will do just fine, possibly stink less when exposed to your sweaty feet."
Rylen, Cassandra and Dorian all chuckled as they prattled on and on. "As I said before, you two certainly have the bickering down of an old wedded couple," Dorian elicited unamused stares from the pair.
As the walls of Redhold began to rise in the distance, Cullen stopped squeezing her thigh, "It's seen as favorable if the stolen bride puts up a fight while being carried in."
With a sigh, she propped herself up on her elbows, "Don't worry, I'll make it look good. You just may not like it." He turned his head sharply over to her, and though she could only see part of his face it was a look of deep concern, making her smirk mischievously. "What's the matter, Rutherford? Lost your nerve?"
"No, I just don't want my pants burnt off in front of the clan."
She gave a deep chuckle, as he resumed his path forward, "Despite the allure of embarrassing you so, I feel that may reflect badly on me. I'll keep my magic to myself." His words from the previous night echoed in her head, My wife needs to be strong and respectable. You do not possess a single desirable trait to make an ideal Lady of the Hold, all you have to recommend you is the prophecy. Never in her life had Evelyn ever been 'bad' at anything. Whatever challenge came her way, her unyielding will to overcome and master it had always won out. For instance, she was not skilled in the art of healing, yet, in her classes in the Circle, she had completed the course with good marks. She still wasn't the best healer and chose to leave that art to others more adept in the field, but she could do it. This was no different.
"I'd appreciate it. If it's of any consequence, you gave me a nasty burn on my side. Dorian said it'll scar."
"Did I?" Her voice and head both perked up, "I suppose it does." A firm smack on the rear had her squirming around to curse at him when she saw the entire Hold at the gates before them. The performance had begun, even if it wasn't entirely fake.
Passing through the gates she struggled moderately, but as soon as they were in the thick of the crowd, she bent her leg so her stinky boot was pressed to his face. Now he squirmed, and as he did, she rolled off of him. Even though her body felt as if she had been trampled by one of her father's Rangers, she hit the ground running. Her attempt caused the spectators to go wild, especially when she mowed over the three trailing just behind the Thane. The four tussled about in a pile of limbs, Cassandra grumbling, Rylen laughing and Dorian cursing - especially as a fifth body was added. Naturally, Cullen's long powerful strides had him tackling her almost instantly. Keeping her limbs controlled, he crawled up her onto the ground holding her legs. Bringing the two of them up on their knees while restraining her arms, she cast a weakened mind blast back at him knocking him flat on his back a few paces away.
The crowd was blocking the gates, so she ran further into the Hold, not wanting to go back out in the woods anyway. When she was clear of most of the onlookers, she encircled herself in a wall of fire, catching her breath. When he caught up to her, he slowed to a stop outside of her barrier. Crossing her arms and jutting a hip out, she looked at him in direct challenge, inviting him to try and cross the tall flames. With a hidden gesture behind her back, she snapped a barrier around him. From before, Evelyn knew he would recognize the feel of the protective shield without giving away the trick to the spectators - except for maybe the mages.
Having caught on, he boldly stepped through the wall of fire while she tried on her best shocked impression. Grappling with her once more, the flames ceased and he carried her to his longhouse without further delay. Kicking open the doors, he tossed her in and turned back to the crowd making a point to slam the doors behind them.
At last in the quiet of her new home, she fell back on the ground where he had thrown her with a deep breath. She could still hear the roar of the clan outside in congratulations, but it went wholly ignored in favor of the crackle of the fire. No matter where she was, fire always felt like home for her. Her muscles felt heavy from being beaten around, and she arched her back up squeezing her eyes shut at the pain.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"You didn't, no." She slowly sat up looking around at her new home for the foreseeable future. Losing herself in thought, her eyes roamed over every space and object trying to become familiar with it. The more she studied his home, the more she realized everything had a purpose, nothing was placed or hung with sentimentality. Before she could ponder the fact too deeply, the burning question came to mind, "So, what exactly do they think we're doing in here?" When he looked back at her with a sheepish look and cleared his throat, that was sufficient enough.
"It's probably best if we rest in my bedroom for the time being, n-not doing anything, j-just resting."
His squirming was slightly endearing, "Fine, I could use a nap anyway." With a stiff groan, she stood making her way into the bedroom with him.
Inside everything was neatly arranged for a single man's room. It almost reminded her of the drilled organization that soldiers have. Again, the room was very spartan making her think it was purposely so. Having Rosalie in residence she would've thought there would be some homey touches, but clearly the Thane had no patience for it.
As she sat beside the fire, an odd line of thought came to the forefront of her mind. Soon her belongings, though few, would be in here. There would be a second armor stand with her set beside his. Her staff and spirit blade would join his arsenal on the weapons rack. The table with the water would display her toiletries and hair brush. Despite signs of it being her home would it feel like such, or would she just feel like a trespasser?
"You can rest on the bed, I'll take the floor."
She reached out to her longtime companion with a finger, letting the flames wrap around her hands to stave off the chill. "I think I'd like to get some of this blood off of me first." She could still taste the iron on her lips of the first wolf she gutted with her own split lip. He hummed in agreement, forgetting himself that he was also stained by the violence that eventually won him the day.
Using the same basin of water that she had just been musing on, she warmed it with a touch - to which he commented would be a handy skill to have around the house now - they dipped rags in washing all the skin that the armor failed to cover. When the water had been thoroughly dirtied and their outerwear was discarded to be cleaned later, they settled down for a rest. She insisted on laying on the floor, not comfortable with the idea of being in his bed yet.
As strange as it was, there was a finality about it. One day she would be sleeping there, but today was not it. She yawned, remembering she had woken up at dawn after a long night of festivities of various kinds. A nap suddenly became a much-needed luxury while time allowed. Her keen hearing was still picking up the murmurs of the crowd outside, who no doubt believed the two were amid hearty lovemaking, not lazily lounging about. Closing her eyes and succumbing to the weight of her eyelids, she slipped into the Fade with ease, happy to put her problems to rest for a few hours.
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A jolt startled her from her slumber. The jerk of her upper body being seized was disorienting as her groggy vision tried to focus on the room. The atmosphere was suffocating as stone walls with but one narrow slit of a window letting in pale moonlight surrounded her. Swaying about not of her own volition, her hands reached out to steady herself, finding stability on the cold metal armor of the person in front of her. Their arms entangled together, but the relief was replaced by nauseating fear when a set of dead eyes met hers.
A scream came up in her throat, but it was silenced by a punch that was just hard enough to quell the sound but not choke her. The man was efficient, and he knew what he was doing after several times now. The first had been risky, having been so desperate to have her, he had not thought about how she'd fight back as scrawny as she was. The second assault was just that, too rough, too violent to properly sate him using her limp form. Each of the following times, he improved to the point where there was cold calculation in each adapted move.
"Good evening, my pet. Let's not have any yelling, tonight is a special night. I wanted to congratulate you on becoming a Knight-Enchanter." Through the haze of her mind, she could've sworn she had been one already. He held her firm against the worn stone of the wall, but she was able to turn her head to view herself in the looking glass of her dressing table. She was skinnier than usual, seemingly lacking much of her muscle which was evident as she struggled unsuccessfully against the Templar. Her signature scars on her lower left cheek and nose were gone, making her skin appear youthful and inexperienced.
He chastised her, "When I'm speaking to you, Evelyn, you are to look at me. Do I need to get the belt?"
"N-no, no..."
"No, what?" He growled in her face.
"No, Ser Aeron," her voice shook but not from the blow.
He backed away, but only by a few inches, "Never forget what you are and who you serve. You may think this new rank of yours will free you from me, but it won't. Remember that you'll always come back here to this tower, to me. Who knows, perhaps all that traveling will cause you to miss me, the whore that you are." She closed her eyes feeling her nightgown slipping up past her hips. "Look at me!" Her eyes snapped open and his chapped lips met hers painfully. A slimy tongue threatened to gag her, feeling as if she had eaten a slug. Ryker pulled away abruptly holding her by the hair, "Not even death can keep me from you."
She looked down seeing the killing blow he was dealt, but she couldn't remember who did it. As the blood ebbed from him, it coated her as well, soaking into her skin like a sponge. He used the bunched fabric of her nightgown to staunch it, but it was futile.
"Now look what you've done," he backhanded her, then smashed her head against the wall. The familiar sound of her silk nightclothes being torn echoed through the room. His blunt nails bit into her arms as he ripped it off her. The mage cried and screamed, hoping someone would hear her, but no one ever did. "He can't save you." She knew he meant someone specific, but who? Who killed him? She tried to concentrate and ignore what he was doing to her. Faint images flashed through her mind, like hazy memories, and seeing this, he grabbed the back of her neck throwing her down on the ground and she landed in a puddle of his blood. It was familiar. A dark wintry forest blinked about before embedding them in its memory.
"Don't you dare fight me!" Aeron roared at her, pulling a dagger. Around them she heard a conversation and a woman calling out for help, the first name began with an 'R' but she could make out the rest it was so weak. The next name she heard, was a women's, 'Cassandra.' The voice she now recognized as her own, hearing it with more clarity that time. Shadows surrounded them, reenacting the memory they were listening to. Aeron's face was red, contorted in rage, and headed for her with the knife in hand.
As the shadow of herself joined with her when she too fell, they called out together in unison, "CULLEN!" A large shadow with golden glowing eyes appeared heralding in a blinding light. The figure banished the hostile shadows before them one by one. Before its aura could overtake them, Aeron grabbed her throat trying to stop her cries of help. Her throat closed and she gasped for breath feeling the life slowly leaving her. She felt her arms slip away from struggling against him looking up into the fading void. When the light finally reached her, she felt it engulf her with a rush of warmth.
Each blink Evelyn took gradually brought the waking world into focus as the light dissipated, though the golden eyes were blazing brilliantly before her. Her eyes which had rolled back into her skull fought to right themselves. As the fog receded, she found Cullen holding her with a hand on her face and the other wrapped around her. His mouth was moving to the rhythm of the word 'breathe,' even if she couldn't hear it. When her heart slowed, she pushed away from him needing air and space, trying to compose herself.
"Hakkon's breath, Trevelyan! You weren't breathing!"
"I gathered that," she replied breathlessly. The two sat back against the bed staring off. "Thank you. I'm glad I did it with you here and not Rosalie. No need to have her fretting after both of us."
"Is it because of today? Seeing him?" There was no need to utter his name. Even though she had obliterated him off the face of Thedas, part of him still lived in her head. Evelyn simply nodded. Having told him of her past trauma, it was clear he had put the pieces together of what her night terror was about. Minutes passed as they both sat there lost in the darkness that resided in their minds. Thinking about the trauma inflicted upon them, though not as the victims, but as the survivors. To be a survivor, something needs to be sacrificed, and for Evelyn, it was her virginity; her innocence; her choice. She had no idea though what Cullen had been through, but she wasn't about to ask, not now.
She ran a hand through her hair, "What a pair you and I make. Do the gods like playing jokes? Putting the two of us together is certainly that."
He chuckled, "I hope so, otherwise that'd mean this is serious."
"We certainly can't have that," she smiled mischievously at him, "you don't seem the Prince Charming-type."
"The who?"
"In the Lowlands, Prince Charming, from stories, always sweeps the fair maiden off her feet, falling madly in love with each other," she sweetened her voice and dramatically batted her eyes at him, then rolled them returning to her usual tone. "You've certainly swept me off my feet, but I think I hit the ground a bit too hard each time to think you were trying to make me fall for you."
"I did warn you."
"You did," they laughed quietly together, trying to distract themselves from the darkness within. "I never said I didn't deserve it."
He stood and stretched his lower back. It was odd seeing him in a shirt and pants with bare feet. He almost seemed human to her and not the dreaded Thane of Redhold, the same man who gutted several men a mere hour or so ago. Even more so when his untamed hair fought back against his tight control of it. She supposed she'd be seeing a lot of it soon, though his looks weren't entirely an unwelcome sight. "Are you hungry? It must be near supper time by now."
She followed his lead, indeed feeling a rumble in her gut, but before they could go through the door, she had one question to ask, "Cullen, this whole marriage thing, it's not keeping you from someone you truly care for is it?" Though there had been no proof up until now, if Rosalie could keep hers secret, what was to say he couldn't either?
His eyes drew down sadly, "No, she died years ago."
"I'm sorry. Some of the others had told me you were married before. I didn't mean to pry."
"You were bound to find out soon anyway, but I don't wish to speak of it. It's…"
She shook her head sympathetically, "No, it's alright. I didn't mean for you to right now. Come on, let's get that food, I'm starving."
For the remainder of the evening, they sat around nursing their wounds and sating their appetites talking of the battle. Bran, Ros and Rylen had joined them for supper once they believed their traditional lovemaking was completed, no one seemly made uncomfortable by it either. Bran had fetched all the belongings Evelyn had piled outside her hut before she torched it, which now sat in a heap to the side in the main room to be sorted. Rylen recounted the story of Evelyn stalking his good friend in the tree line, with periodic interruptions from the couple arguing as to who would've won if Axlan hadn't attacked.
It was agreed that a rematch was needed, despite the day's outcome, more for bragging rights if anything. Evelyn couldn't help but be somewhat relieved that she was staying regardless of the terms. Leaving Redhold was a huge risk, one she knew deep in her heart she wasn't prepared for. She was safe with a roof over her head and food warming her belly - and with him. She had friends, one who cared enough to drag her out even for her birthday weeks ago. Dhara was insistent upon learning pyromancy from her, and Ros had hugged her too many times to count this evening happy to be gaining another sister.
She and Cullen were not ideal, that they could agree on. In some ways they were too much alike; stubborn, independent, protective, duty-driven and competitive to no end. Both had left their youth scared, yet carried on, waking up with each new day and putting one foot in front of the other. In a way, this was a new start with a new path laid before her. Here, she wasn't defined as being a filthy mage, but the Phoenix and soon-to-be Lady of the Hold. Both titles held power and with that power, freedom and responsibility. The Thane had said he had no faith in her to uphold the position, but she would try. Besides, their arrangement would be temporary. Perhaps the sooner she fulfilled the prophecy the sooner they could part ways preferably amiably.
One thing was certain, she was to become an Avvar and an Avvar she would stay.