Chapter Text
Bullets smashed into the waves over her head, driving her deeper under the water as she tried very hard to not get very dead.
Hell.
This had really not been her night.
Tripping had been fortunate. If not for the frigid water, she’d have been riddled with holes ten minutes ago when the first bullets had started flying. Which, again, would have been counterproductive to the Not Getting Very Dead plan. Dealing with the undertow to get that tiny bit of cover from the goons with the .45s? Worth it. Under the water was definitely the place to be.
So long as she didn’t go so far that she would never manage to surface again, she’d be fine.
Though catching a decent breath would probably make things even more fine. Breathing had become rather hard to do when she hit the freezing water. Then also there was that “freezing” part. Her arms and legs still clenched and shook as she swam, which meant she wasn’t ass-deep in hypothermia yet, but that it would be coming soon. So maybe the water wasn’t actually the place to be.
Another bullet crashed into frothy waves.
…Or maybe it was. Who was she to judge?
Either way, it wasn’t like she had a plethora of options at her disposal.
Eres paddled under the dock, hoping to find some cover as she broke the surface for air. Another bullet shattered the wood only a foot or so to her right, sending a spray of splinters flying towards her eyes. She jerked back and dipped her head under the water again. At least the icy sea served to dull the burn on her left hand and the gaping bullet wound that she hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid. Come to think of it… it dulled nearly everything… oh… oh shit…
She kicked at the water as black ringed her vision, managing to push again above the waves.
Sirens blared. Footsteps creaked on the boards above her.
“Did you get her?”
“Yeah, think so. Water’ll freeze her any how.”
“Right. We gotta move.”
The voices grew hazier, swimming around her mind in a way that she was supposed to be doing herself. The cold iron seeping into her limbs seemed to have other ideas for her, though.
Shit.
The whole Not Getting Very Dead plan was looking less and less likely.
She was sinking.
Down, down, down.
-
“We can’t just keep her here.”
“That is exactly what we must do.”
“She needs a hospital! I will not have her death on my hands.”
“Her death is what will come if we expose her by dragging her through the official channels. You know this. She was there, Cassandra.”
“It is a moot point if she dies on this table.”
Wood scraped over wood. Expensive leather footsteps tapped over scored and scuffed floors.
“Perhaps I could be of some assistance?”
The hammer of a revolver clicked and all fell silent.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Solas, though I doubt there is time for proper introductions. I can offer medical attention to this woman.”
Silence.
“Leliana…”
“Fine. But you saw nothing. Not a word of this to anyone.”
“As you say.”
Warm hands touched on the agonizing pain that was where her lower abdomen was supposed to be. Pain shot on a direct line to her mind; stabbing, driving, maddening enough to tear a scream from her throat. She jerked under the hands, eyes flying open, though unable to focus. Dizzying lights and colors flashed, and lilting, looping music flooded her senses. All of it was underpinned and emphasized by a salty, steady ache in her bones.
“Detectives! Hold her still. We must get the bullet out if she is to have any chance of survival .”
Hands gripped at her arms, pinning her to the wood under her back. Eres struggled, horror and disorientation flooding her with adrenaline.
“Miss. You must stay still,” the stern voice commanded. She couldn’t see. The hazy shapes, the sounds, it was too much.
Eres scrunched her eyes shut, breathing hard.
There was a trick she’d learned once, back when she’d had another encounter with a situation that she would much rather forget. The world was spinning a bit too much for her escape to be anywhere near as spectacular as it had been the last time, and they had definitely relieved her of her spare dagger, but maybe she could just…
Eres stilled - stopped struggling completely and did her very best impression of corpse.
“What’s happened?” One of the voices demanded.
The hands gripping her slackened for the barest moment and Eres was up, running full tilt for the blurry shape that looked vaguely like a door.
“Stop her!”
She sprinted through the dark… wherever she was, trying to find another sort of door-shaped thing. Through a combination of dumb luck and what must have been divine intervention, she did.
She flung it open and pounded out onto the cracked cement and two week old snow of an alley.
Skidding and slipping, she ran, banking a hard left as she hit a corner edged with a chain link fence. Up ahead, softly glowing street lamps and club signs illuminated the complete lack of foot traffic on what looked to be a quiet, midtown street. There was safety in numbers, but she had none; no convenient crowds to lose herself in, no pedestrians to beg for help. Not on a tuesday. And of course this would all be happening on a tuesday instead of a nice, convenient saturday.
At least the trench coat and underthings look she seemed to be sporting wouldn’t draw much notice. Her captors must have stripped off her soaked clothing to call a halt on her freezing to death… Although now that sort of death could still be a concern, since this mad-cap escape had so far been undertaken with the coat billowing behind her and her tits and ass out for all the world to see. It was a damned cold night in Val Royeaux. Eres tugged the belt of the trenchcoat tight around her waist.
She muttered a curse that puffed out as fog in front of her face as footsteps slapped through the slush back in the alley.
Steam swirled around her shaking legs, rising up from the metal grates under her feet as she wavered on what to do next. It looked for all the world like some arch demon from the stories was camped out under the city and was trying its very best to block her view of non-icy places to plant her steps.
“Miss!”
Whatever.
Fuck arch demons, because to hell with slipping at a time like this.
Eres dashed right, ducking into another alley.
On and on she ran, trying to catch glimpses of street signs so she could orient herself towards the alienage. Probably she could scrounge up a place to hide out there. Potentially even a soft bed for the night. She was Dalish, but elves took care of their own. Maybe. Sort of. Hopefully? Well, she could find one of her stashes and rustle up a gun or two. One way or another, a bed would eventually be entering the equation for her tonight.
One minute she was sprinting, the next she was nose and chest against a brick wall.
And standing in an icy puddle, for that matter.
It was really the puddle that pissed her off the most. Not the stinking breath blowing past her cheek and making its way to her nose; not the steely forearm pressed to her shoulder blades; not even the arm snaking around her waist and sandwiching her between the wall and the overlarge body behind her. It was the damn puddle. After the night she’d had, water seeping over her sock-clad feet was a step too far.
“Well, look what I’ve-” The thug started to say.
“Nope,” Eres decided, and snapped her elbow back directly into his solar plexus as she stomped down on his toes with her sock-covered heel.
The man wheezed and let go of her. She spun, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanked his head down to her waiting knee.
She stepped out of the puddle.
Problem solved.
There was a glint of a pin on his lapel. A pin with a flaming sword cut in with red. Or maybe the problem wasn’t solved. That… that wasn’t good. Templar. He was a templar. And where there was one templar, there was bound to be a few more nearby.
She backed away.
“Drop your weapons!”
Eres’s head snapped up to find two people with guns on her.
Shit.
She put her hands up and called, “You know I don’t have any. Thanks for that, by the way.”
The red-haired woman jerked her chin towards Eres and the dark-haired one advanced on her.
Eres contemplated running. Then she contemplated just how much a bullet in the back would hurt, which was exactly what would happen if she tried to move away from the double act staring her down.
She sighed and leaned back against the brick wall, arms still raised.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two more figures making their way through the clouds of steam obscuring the far end of the alley.
“You caught me,” Eres acknowledged as the dark-haired woman bent to check on the pile of templar laying in the puddle.
“What did you do?”
Eres lowered her arms into what she hoped looked like an innocent shrug. “Survived?”
One of the approaching figures whistled. “Some survival. Seeker, care to comment?”
The dark-haired woman growled low in her throat and stood. “I told you earlier. This entire evening is still off the record. Chasing along with me does not change that.”
“Ohhh, but think of the head lines! Rogue suspect brought in for questioning after daring escape.”
“Questioning?” Eres blanched.
They all ignored her.
“‘Daring’? You would suggest that she is some sort of hero after this?” The woman toed the templar at her feet.
The dwarf doing the talking waved a hand. “Readers love an underdog.”
The dark-haired woman groaned.
The other man standing with the dwarf took a step closer to Eres and she jerked back, flattening herself to the wall.
He frowned, holding his palms out in front of him to show he was unarmed. To the dark-haired woman he said, “She should not be kept out in the cold any longer than is strictly necessary. The bullet wound will require immediate attention as well.” His eyes slid back to Eres and she frowned at him, not liking the way his overly-attractive voice was tossing out judgments on her well-being without any consultation from, you know, her.
“Your feet are wet,” he observed.
She nodded, not giving up on her frown. “That they are.” Then she shivered despite herself. Drat.
The redhead stalked forward, drawing a pair of cuffs out from the waistband of her trousers. “You will come quietly, I assume?”
Did she really have much choice at this point?
“Are you taking me to the precinct?” Eres asked.
The two women exchanged a look.
“No,” the dark-haired one sighed. “To the club for now.”
Eres raised a brow. “Club?”
“Haven,” the dwarf supplied.
Well, she could use a drink.
“Fine,” Eres allowed, holding out her wrists.
No one suggested helping the templar back to his feet.
The redhead clinked the cuffs shut and off they went, back through the labyrinthine alleys to the club called Haven.