So this was going to be the final chapter, but I didn't feel that it was the ending I wanted, which is also why this took much longer for me to finish as well. Anyhow, the next chapter should be the last one, but I won't make any promises this time. As sad as I am to see this story come to an end, I am thrilled to start the sequel, and I hope it will be as enjoyable as this was. As always, enjoy, review, etc. And to anyone who is interested on my activities, I have a tumblr I'm rather active on, feel free to chat with me there. I share a lot of DA things, including some of my own things. Just look for the name: amellheartscullen. Link will be on my profile.

XXXII. ONE YEAR LATER

"Miss Amell, beautiful as ever." A cringe betrayed the mage's stoic demeanor when the templar tried to charm her with his voice, words as venomous as a snake. Ser Royce grinned coyly, eyes wandering over her with sick infatuation, "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He knew why she stood before him, marred hands curled into fidgety fists at her sides, eyes dark and narrowed like a raven. An amused chuckle rang through his lips, matching the mage's damning glare. "You wound me with your gaze Miss Amell," he coed, standing, towering over her as stepped around his desk, lips curled in ill intent, "Does the sight of me not bring fourth any hidden desires?"

Astrid scoffed, disgusted at the familiar temper of his voice. Once receded memories festered at the back of her mind, causing the mage to flinch from the hauntings. "No desires Ser," she spat, "just more reason to loath you."

The templar laughed and approached her, "I have never met such resistance from a mage before." Ser Royce reached to play with the hair over her shoulder, streaming it through his fingers with careful grace. She saw his teeth tug at his lip, the hesitation as his knuckles brushed her collarbone, "Your rejection only sweetens the temptation."

A loud smack echoed through the chamber, and Ser Royce stood still, the profile of his face left with a red palm print. "Don't you ever go near one of my apprentices again," Astrid warned. If Knight-Captain Hadley wouldn't help her with this matter, she would confront it herself. "You don't fool me Ser, and your attempt to intimidate me is asinine," her hand stung from where it had made contact, but the enchanter didn't falter. Astrid Amell had endured too much. Tortured by the hands of blood mages, defiled by demons, she was scrutinized by the templars and blamed for the Circle's misfortune. The mage had long since gone numb to the world around her, cold, heart barely beating. Only a single regret plagued Astrid now, and he was kingdoms away, free from this cursed place.

Royce laughed, loud and throaty. A chill rattled through her bones and Astrid found herself taking an unconscious step back as the templar turned on her, eyes burning. For a moment, a spark of fear crossed her features. "It would seem you are far from the pious apprentice in her letters." He grinned, a toothy snarl, a knowing smirk that left Astrid pale. "You know, Astrid," he growled, enjoying the taste of her name on his tongue, "when I first came here, I couldn't believe what my sister said of you." Astrid stilled at the sly vein of his words, shaking under his watchful eye. "A lurid affair with a templar," Ser Royce scoffed, chuckling, mocking her, "how romantic."

Astrid's lips parted in surprise, jaw clenched. It only pleased him more.

"Oh I know all about it. A quick rut between the pews in the cover of night, but you didn't stop your campaign there," he teased, stepping closer to the mage with each word. "You seduced a soon to be apostate, casted your sultry spell over the templars-," Royce reached for her, but Astrid shied away. He smirked, surveying her with immodest eyes, laughing again. "You probably didn't even have to use a spell. Just the natural sway of your hips is enough to memorize any real man, and those lips..." Suddenly the templar's jaw twitched, his savvy smirk withdrawn and replaced with a scowl of such malice that Astrid's entire body flinched. "You got what you deserved by them blood mages, yet you still got away with it," he spoke with aversion, mixed with a demented sense of lust, "blaming my sister, for your demons."

Astrid heard the angry beat of his boots as he moved to her, but her reaction was too slow, the revelation too painfully shocking. She turned, but Royce had already snatched her at the waist, yanking her back and off her feet. Fear struck her like never before, every tormented second she spent beneath a demon, bleeding and breaking, was coming back. She wouldn't survive that pain a second time. So she kicked and scratched and screamed through the hand covering her mouth, but the templar was stronger. Royce pushed her against the desk, one hand tangled angrily in her hair while the the other tried to pin her arms, but she refused to be subjected like that again.

Fist in her flaming hair, he pulled her back before slamming Astrid's forehead against the hard wood of his desk. She gasped, windless and stunned, but not without bite. "Your sister-" she huffed, "got what she deserved." Astrid barely hissed out the last words before Royce cracked her head against the desk again, this time drawing blood from the brow and a splatter from her nose. The mage breathed shakily from her mouth, trembling from the pain, dazed.

"My sister only wanted to be free," Royce snarled over the movement of his belt, causing the mage to struggle again, forcing her uncoordinated limbs to writhe from his grasp. "You should have played along Miss Amell, you should have let my dear sister slit your throat, because now-," Astrid felt her skull crack a third time against the harsh surface, now with a busted lip, bleeding from her mouth,"Now, I will put those pretty lips to good use."

He began to pull up her robes, ripping the sleeve from her shoulder, and every second she spent plundered under a demon, or possessed templar came creeping back. No longer the stone faced magess, Astrid bit her cheek, tasting her blood- tasting power. The enchanter blinked back tears, a voice she had prayed every night to never hear again whispered against her ear. The voice was seductive, smooth as velvet as instructions caressed through her, her thoughts no longer her own. Astrid curled her fingers against the surface, scratching the wood with her blunt nails, scuffing her knuckles. Her mouth was red with blood, the copper savor suddenly as sweet as Orlesian wine, intoxicating. Astrid moaned against her better judgement, encouraging an unwanted chuckle from her abuser. "Don't tell me the you've already given in to my charm?" he coaxed from behind her, hands now at her waist.

"No," she breathed, "something worse."

Twisting abruptly, Astrid spat in his face, the blood in her mouth splashing across his cheek and immediately beginning to boil. Royce recoiled from her, frantic to wipe away the fluid that was beginning to burn his face. Her head was spinning, but she managed to her feet, wiping the blood draining from her nose with the remains of her sleeve. The templar's attempts only spread the pain across the left side of his face, flesh cooking as Astrid tasted blood on her upper lip again. The voice was still there, just at her shoulder, praising her, but it needed more, she needed more. Royce's cries were pleasant, strangely music to her ears as she examined his desk, searching. A dagger sat perched, the tip pushed into the wood, hilt glinting, the voice begging for its touch.

Astrid stretched for the weapon, relieved as it fit into her palm, cold against her aching fingers. She turned to Royce, cradling the wounded side of his face, barely looking up at the sound of her approach. All off her senses had melted away, only the strange familiar voice to guide her, telling her to lick the blade across her exposed skin. So she held the blade up, ready to marvel at the dominion she would soon have over the templar, but Astrid froze and stared. She saw the reflection of nails digging into her shoulder, lips curled back in a devious smirk, flaxen eyes gazing back at her through the reflection in the dagger.

I told you, I'd be back.

The dagger slipped from her hand just as Ser Royce's door broke open, templars in the doorway. Astrid suddenly could see all the blood on her hands, the small cut she had began to make across her wrist, and Mathias, wide-eyed and gaping. She staggered, glancing at the men entering the room to Royce, whose smirk sent daggers through her very being. "She's a blood mage!" he hollered to his fellow templars, feigning that his wound still caused him pain, "look what she's done to me!"

Blood mage. Astrid succumbed. Envy had finally gotten to her. And now, she would be cut down without a second thought.

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of her again, mana drained just enough to leave her standing. A hand encircled her wrist, dragging her over the fallen templars and into the hall. Astrid looked up as they paused, "Mathias?" The templar met her eyes and continued to move her away from the room, towards the stairs. "Mathias don't do this!" she begged, as they took the steps two at a time down, his fingers squeezing her wrist.

"Your no blood mage Astrid," he said back to her, ducking into a doorway as templars passed, catching the curious eyes of mages studying in their room.

Astrid shook her head, "You saw what I did to him- I- I am."

Mathias stopped again and hid her from view against the wall, moving her hand against his palm. "He's deranged, he forced your hand Astrid," the templar spoke harshly, glancing down the hall to check for clearance. "Dagna came to us, said she had noticed something strange with him, something familiar," he explained as they moved through another set of stairs. "He's Zelda's brother, and just as mad, if not worst," Mathias' limp grew worst as they moved through the library, stopping to duck behind a shelf as Knight-Captain Hadley and a crew of templars marched hastily through.

Astrid squeezed the templar's hand and leaned into his shoulder, "I'm not afraid to die." She felt him tremble at her whisper, catching her eyes with a worried look. The mage slid to her knees and against the shelf, Mathias falling next to her willingly.

"Cullen would not forgive me if something happened to you."

The enchanter's breathing hitched, fingers clinging tighter around his, "He has not written in over a year. As far as I'm concerned, Cullen would never know."

"Don't think like that Astrid," he shook her by the shoulders, keeping her eyes on him. "You've suffered so much, the demons and the mages- you even fought through the Blight!" Astrid was turning her head, but Mathias caught her cheek and tilted her face back at him, "So what if you know a little blood magic, hmm?" The templar squeezed her hand again, cherishing it between his palms, "That doesn't mean you have to use it, and if anything, you're the only mage I know that can control it."

Shouting echoed from the floor above them and Astrid felt the noose around her neck tighten. She remained hesitant, as Mathias stood and extended his hand out to her, hazel eyes begging her to follow him out. Astrid blinked, contemplating the decision she needed to make. Stay, and meet the Knight-Captain's blade in execution or run, damning herself to the life of an apostate, a maleficarum. Cullen suddenly came to mind, that ache in her chest returning whenever she thought of him and her hand in him being sent to Kirkwall. If only she could see him again.

Standing, she took Mathias's waiting hand, committing her fate. The pair trekked from the library, the light touch of magic and smell of old books imprinted on Astrid's memory as they passed through the Main Hall, dodging more hustling templars. Apprentices stepped from their path, watching naively as a templar escorted the mage he intended to free. Astrid's gaze passed over her old chamber, the bunk she shared for years with Myrah, all figments of her soon to be former life. Mathias hid her once more as they rounded the corner, with only the guarded front doors to go through. He marched ahead, calling at the templar guards, "Quick, the Knight-Captain has found a blood mage, he needs aid!" The guards didn't even hesitate, freeing their swords and brushing past Mathias with no regards to who would guard the door now.

He came for her again, fingers laced tightly with hers, only letting go to lift the padlock.

Astrid's tousled hair whipped back as they met the impending storm, black clouds rumbling with thunder, lightning cracking across the heavens. The dock creaked as Lake Calenhad churned and crashed against the tower, cold water spraying at her ankles. She inhaled the salty sea air, turning her face from the wind, clinging to Mathias as the edged their way to the dock's end. Water as black as ink, Astrid struggled to see shore as the rain swept through in pounding bands of frigid water. "I can't swim," she yelled over the gale, squinting to see the templar.

Mathias held her face closer to his, "Don't try, stay afloat and let the current carry you." She felt wet velvet pressed into her palm and looked down to see a pouch, heavy with coin. "Get to Denerim and take ship," he hollered as the rain pelted against them.

"Where will I go? With my phylactery I won't get far-" she asked of him, gasping as the front doors began to open from the other side. "Mathias come with me!"

The templar smiled, a sad smile, and shook his head. "Go to Kirkwall," he spoke just loud enough for her to hear, wiping what little blood remained on her lip with his thumb. She opened her mouth to protest, shaking her drenched head, but Mathias would have none of it. He cupped her face, wet lips meetings hers, stunning the mage before he pushed her into the dark waters below.