He glanced at her as they moved, then back at Halwell, then ahead again. What had they told him? He took a shallow breath.<i>You have been COMPROMISED, ser!</i>"They told me what I needed to know." He didn't sound all that certain of it, though. Nothing had seemed certain after they had jammed lyrium down his throat and forced him to recite the Chant even as his stomach burned. He felt lightheaded just at the memory, and closed his eyes as they cleared the last few steps. He escorted her the rest of the way to the cells and pushed her into one--though not as roughly as his fellows might have.<br/><br/>Halwell scowled at him. "The Knight-Commander should be here soon. Are you sure it's wise of you to remain so near her? After what happened before--"<br/><br/>"What happened before is no business of yours," Ell interrupted coldly. "Go ensure he's on his way. He'll want to interrogate her, even if this claim of impending doom proves to be nothing." Halwell looked him in the eye, a silent challenge, but Ellion didn't blink or falter. He had been trained too well to break, especially before his brothers. After a moment the other Templar turned and marched away, and Ell kept his shoulders stiff until he was out of view. He looked morosely into her cell and rubbed his face with both hands, then turned to face her, allowing his posture to falter.<br/><br/>"I had hoped you would never return," he said quietly. "I knew, after everything, that you likely never would. A blood mage--" he paused and shook his head there, "--a<i>so-called</i>blood mage, with no phylactery, loose in the world." He looked up at her and met her eyes, his gaze troubled and confused. "How serious is this claim, to drive you to<i>this</i>circle, of all the circles in all Ferelden?" A few moments passed before the sound of armor shuffling down the hallway filled the space between them. Ell gave her one last look before he turned to stand at attention, spear held sharply to his side. "Knight-Commander, ser," he said stiffly, one hand lifting to his chest in salute.<br/><br/>The man himself was older, not old, but his dark black hair had begun to go go grey in unkempt streaks. He was on the short and stocky side, nearly dwarven if not for his height. He sighed and nodded to Ell, then turned to look at the woman in the cell before him. "Alright, lass. Give me one good reason why I ought not execute you here and now."