plotted starter for @redemptior
"This one says he's one of yours," the keys in the jailer's hand jingle over the rough in his voice, metallic and harsh. "Prince of Ferelden," he mocks.
Inara has always imagined there must be one or two of those rattling around this cold world. With the stories of how both Maric and Cailan behaved...
The chances of finding them in one of Kirkwall's cells, however?
Meredith had sneered and waved the Grey Warden away when she'd come looking for recruits, seeking mages in particular. Start with the jails, the Knight-Commander had suggested. You can have as many mages as you take prisoners.
So, she was taking all the prisoners. They'd started with those condemned to death. Now these here were petty criminals. Thieves. Peddlers. Brawlers in the pub.
When he heaves the jail cell open, however, and Inara finds herself staring down upon a very familiar face, words leave her.
"You want him?" asks the guard.
She cannot find an answer.













