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Chapter Text

"Hey Junior," Brosca set the bottle next to the elf.  "Do me a favor, and keep an eye on this?"

Jerath nodded.  "No problem."

Brosca grinned.  "Thanks."  He headed out into the Denerim market.  Zevran and Lenore were haggling with a merchant.  Well, Zevran was haggling.  They'd learned the hard way not to let Lenore carry the gold.  Fortunately, the little escapade Junior had led them on had paid pretty well.  "Talked to Cathiel.  The Arl of Denerim's manor is Warden headquarters until everything gets all straightened out."

"That's nice to know.  Eamon's been jumpy."

Zevran shook his head.  "You did dump Oghren into the fountain and then turn it into ice."  They walked back to the tavern.

"He shouldn't have pinched."

Brosca laughed.  "Speaking of Oghren, I swiped his new brew."  He smiled.  "Calls it 'The Virgin Princess'."

Lenore blinked, then shook her head.  "Oh, that's not Oghren's.  That's Felsi's."

"Oh.  Sod."  He glanced at the back room.  "Maybe I could sneak it back before she notices it's..."

The door opened and he saw Felsi come out, bottle in one hand and Jerath's ear in the other.  She dragged the elf into the kitchen.

Lenore's eyes widened.  "You know he's going to kill you, right?"

"So, Zev, how's the weather in Antiva this time of year?"

#

Leliana smiled when she looked up.  "Warden-Commander."

"Leliana."  Jerath nodded.  "Just stopping in on my way to Amaranthine."  He looked around.

She smiled.  "It's not impressive yet, but you can already see what it will be in a few years."  She looked around the settlement.  Aravels dotted the landscape.  More than a few elves had come from the alienages or refugee camps, and tensions between them and the Dalish were surprisingly light.  There were human soldiers as well, there by order of the king due to darkspawn stragglers still posing a threat.  Most wore Gwaren's colors.  "Come, Brehan's going to want to see you."

Ashalle's aravel was in one of the best locations in the area.  Brehan had rather shamelessly abused his hero status to get her a site on a small hill, overlooking the river.  Several large oak trees would shade the house once it was built.  She smiled when she saw Brehan on the roof of the structure, cursing at the thatch.  As he had been doing most of the morning.  And most of the previous day.

"Look who I found."  Leliana waved at him and gestured at Jerath.

Jerath shook his head.  "Need a hand up there?"

"I've got it."  Brehan growled the words, and let out a few curses in elven.

"You sure?"

"Da'mi, I know what I'm doing."  Brehan shot him a glare.  "If you want to help, you can --” Brehan leaned forward to put in another section of thatch, and fell through the roof into the house below.  Loud curses followed, and the rest of the roof collapsed on top of him.

Leliana glanced at Jerath.  "Any way I could convince you not to share this incident with the others?"

"No."  Jerath shrugged as he went to help her dig Brehan out.

#

She'd put a bow around Schmoople's neck, and was now trying to coax Vir'ghilani out from behind the chair so she could do the same to him.  Brehan laughed as the wolf scooted further away.  "You needn't worry, ma'arlath.  He isn't coming to the celebration."

"He isn't?"

"He was disinvited.  Something about relieving himself on Bann Ceorlic's shoes."

Leliana blinked.  "Was Bann Ceorlic wearing the shoes at the time?"  She shook her head and laughed softly.  "You should get dressed."

"Help me with the armor?"  Varathorn had all but forced the suit of ironbark on him when he'd meet them at Ostagar.  There was still a lot of work to do, but already rebuilding was happening at the ruins.  The armor was styled after the ancient armor he'd found in the wolf ruins, and it was a work of art.

Leliana fastened the last of the buckles, then adjusted the blue griffin marked cloak to drape properly over his shoulders.  "There."  She kissed him.  Her own dress was green to match his armor, trimmed with warden blue.  Around her neck she wore the ironbark amulet on a simple silver chain.  The effect was more striking than if she'd layered herself in gold.

#

"Ser Brehan, Lady Leliana."

Brehan gave him a small bow.  "Bann Tabris."  He noted that the man was wearing both the boots and the short cloak Keeper Lanaya had given him.  It was good to know that relations between the Dalish and their city cousins were improving.

He fell into step with them.  "All these nobles."

"And you are one of them now," Leliana said.

"A strange feeling," Cyrion said.  "I keep expecting someone to tell me to go fetch the tea."  He shook his head.  "I'm not certain, but I think one of the guests from the Free Marches actually tried to bribe me."

"What did he want?" Brehan asked.

"The opportunity to talk to Ferelden's new Warden-Commander."  Cyrion gave a proud little laugh.  "My son."

"Has he arrived yet?"

"No, but he sent word ahead.  I'm expecting him very soon."

#

Saitada had sent word.  With storms raging off the coast, taking ship was not an option.  Cathiel's side looked slightly empty without the presence of their former commander.  She wasn't going to cry.

Their current commander stood to Alistair's right.  Even in the armor of the Warden-Commander, he still looked like a half-grown kid.  She wasn't going to cry.

Brehan stood next in the line, across from her.  She wasn't sure how Wynne and Lenore had managed it, but Oghren was sober, bathed, and dressed in clean clothing.  Probably blood magic.  She wasn't going to cry.

The door at the end of the hall opened.  Cathiel was radiant in white and silver.  From the look on Alistair's face, Leliana wasn't sure if the King was even aware there were people in the room other than his bride.  Fergus led his sister up the path, as every noble in Ferelden rose to bow to their new queen.  She wasn't going to cry.

Alistair and Cathiel took each other's hands, and gazed into each other's eyes as they recited the formal vows.  She wasn't going to cry.

Despite her repeated threats, Lenore did not make fireworks appear.  It was clear though, that it had taken a supreme act of will on the part of the mage.  She wasn't going to cry.

Music swelled, as Alistair led his queen to the hall for their first dance as husband and wife.  The long hours she and Brehan had spent tutoring him paid off, he moved through the steps barely a falter.  She wasn't going to cry.

"Dance with me, ma'arlath?" Brehan said, offering her a hand.  She took it, and let him lead her to the floor.  She wasn't going to cry.

Brosca took the first dance with Lenore, as Zevran managed to coax Wynne into dancing with him.  She wasn't going to cry. 

Oghren and Felsi managed something approaching a resemblance of dance steps, and Oghren actually didn't have his hands on the woman's rear.  She wasn't going to cry.

Shianni managed to drag Jerath, somewhat literally, into the dance.  Shale watched, resplendent in gems of soft blue and white.  She wasn't going to cry.

Brehan kissed her.  "You're crying, ma'arlath."

She laughed.  "Don't be silly, vhenan.  Of course I am."

#

He was playing with the sword again.  Starfang.  She laughed, and he gave her an embarrassed look before returning it to its stand.  "You are adorable when you blush," she said.

Alistair gave her a mock glare.  "I'm king now.  King's aren't adorable.  Handsome, maybe.  Regal.  Certainly not adorable."  He came over and draped an arm over her.  "It was good, having everyone together again.  Almost everyone."

"Brehan and Leliana are heading to Orlais."

"Ah, so we'll be at war soon.  At least I have the proper sword for it."

"Just so you know, Brosca is threatening to steal it.  The sword that killed an archdemon.  He says there is a man in Tevinter who will pay a thousand royals for it."

"The coffers don't need money that bad."  He considered a moment.  "Do they?"

"Jerath gave the sword to you as a wedding present, Alistair.  A gift from your friend.  Keep it."  Cathiel leaned her head onto his shoulder.  "Besides, with what Brosca having found in Howe's little horde, the kingdom is in surprisingly good shape."  She kissed him.  Her husband.  It was still a bit hard to believe.  "Come to bed, my king."

"As you command, my queen."  He picked her up and carried her across the room.

Chapter Text

"There has to be a better way to travel than by ship," Brosca muttered.  Chewing the roots helped, but not enough.  "Dwarves were not meant to be on the water."

Lenore rubbed his back sympathetically.  "It's not a long voyage."  She started to say something else, and then all of a sudden the crew was on alert.

"What's going on?" Zevran asked.

"Pirates," the captain replied.  "I'm sorry, I'm afraid we can't outrun them."

Brosca narrowed his eyes. "Wait a minute..."  He glanced back at Lenore and Zevran.  "Don't we know that ship?"

#

"Have fun raiding the coast," Lenore said

Isabela laughed.  "Sure you don't want to join my crew?"

"If Brosca ever finds his sea legs, we'll be there in a heartbeat," Lenore promised.  She leaned forward and gave Isabela a long, slow, kiss goodbye.  "Visit us?"

"Of course."  Isabela winked at her.

#

Ser Gilmore was waiting for her downstairs.  Except for a scar on the left side of his jaw, he almost looked like his old self again.  "Your majesty," he said, bowing.  "I wish to report that your household guard is ready for inspection."

She blinked.  "Already?"

He smiled.  "There was no shortage of individuals eager for the opportunity to swear their blades to the king and queen who saved Ferelden from a Blight."  He gestured for her to follow him.  "In fact, nearly half those I selected were at the battle in the market district, and the Warden Commander personally recommended Sergeant Kylon.  Wardens Brosca and Lenore seconded the recommendation."

They rose as she entered.  She did actually recognize a few of them.  A second look revealed that there were four elves among the soldiers, and she smiled.  Ser Gilmore introduced her to each of them, and she spoke a few words of encouragement.

Their first task, she told them, was to maintain order in Denerim.  And she had faith that they would do so.  They were, after all, Ferelden.  And as Ferelden had so recently proved, not even a tainted god could threaten them.

Their heads were high as they left to find their posts.  "You did well, Rory.  I'm glad you agreed to stay."

"Highever..."  He sighed.  "Holds too many memories."

"I know.  It's..."  She shook her head.  "I'm not sure how Fergus can stand it.  Walking down the halls, I kept seeing..." 

"I..."  Ser Gilmore swallowed, then shook his head and straightened.  "The woman you mentioned showed up this morning.  She is waiting in your study."  His eyes narrowed.  "Under watchful eyes, she was rather eying the silver."

#

Goldanna was indeed, eying the silver.  And the bronze, for that matter.  Even with the guard watching, she was pretty sure there were a few suspicious bulges in the woman's pockets.  She pasted a smile on her face, and held out her hands in welcome.  "Goldanna, we were so worried.  Are the children all right?"

"They are, your highness."  She straightened, and opened her mouth to speak.

Cathiel didn't give her the chance.  "Your oldest boy, he's twelve?  I was just speaking to my brother, and he is in need of a squire.  Would do you think?"

She blinked.  Then she blinked again.  And slowly, what looked to be a real smile appeared on his face.  "He'd... he'd about wet himself from excitement, he would."

"Then we will get it arranged immediately.  Tell me more about your other children.  I want to ensure we get them the proper tutors."

#

The letter shook slightly in her hand.  "Ma'arlath?" Brehan asked, his voice concerned.

"It is nothing, vhenan."  He raised an eyebrow at her.  She sighed.  "It's a letter."

"I have eyes."

"It's from an old friend, Dorothea.  She... she's a Revered Mother, at a chantry in Valence.  In Orlais."  She looked at him.  "She is asking for my help."

"Tell me of her."

"I told you of Marjolaine, and what happened... It was Dorothea who helped me escape.  She was the one Marjolaine stole the secrets from.  And she helped me get free of them.  It was she who suggested I go to the chantry."

"She saved you."

"Yes."

"Then I suppose we must travel to Orlais."

#

Alistair gave Gorim a small bow.  Despite Saitada's absence, the assembly had named her Paragon.  She'd named Gorim her seneschal, and Bhelen had promptly named Gorim the ambassador to Ferelden to keep him out of Orzammar.  He had the sneaking suspicion there might still be some bad blood there.  It could be worse though.  They could have sent someone he didn't like.  "How's the family?"

Gorim laughed.  "Getting more mobile.  Yesterday, she grabbed one of her grandfather's hammers and tried to fix my boots."  He shook his head.  "While I was wearing them.  She's got a surprisingly good swing."  He straightened, and his tone became businesslike.  "Word is they've retaken two thaigs, with the help of the Ferelden soldiers.  King Bhelen would like to discuss building an actual city on the trust lands."

"Anyone visiting has to travel Ferelden soil, and we do control the port..."  Alistair nodded.  "I certainly think the idea has merit.  I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

#

Dorothea made a slow circuit of the chapel.  The paintings on the walls never failed to inspire, and even now, they helped soothe her nerves.  Part of her regretted sending the letter, of trying to draw her young friend back into the game.  She wished she knew who else she could trust.

She heard a scraping sound behind her, and sighed.  The Assassin's Guild, or was it to be Crows?  Either way, it seemed she was out of time.  They'd sent five.  She supposed she should take it as a compliment. 

"Excuse me?"  A man's voice called out.  It was strangely accented.  She looked over to see, of all things, a Dalish elf, leaning heavily on a walking staff.  He was holding a piece of parchment.  "Excuse me..."  he called out, looking around him.  "I was paid to deliver a letter..."

"Sod off ya bleedin knife ear."

"Look it will only take a moment," he said, stepping further into the room.  "It's just a simple message."

"Say your piece and hop away, rabbit."

"Ah, yes."  He looked down at the parchment.  "Revered Mother Dorothea, Leliana wants to know if you wish any of them alive for questioning?"

The men blinked.  Dorothea gave the young man another look.  "One, I think, should suffice," she said.  "If you would be so kind."

"What the..." An arrow suddenly grew out of the eye of the speaker.  The Dalish man leaped over the bench and swept the legs out of another man with the staff, then slammed it into the stomach of the next.  Two more arrows flew true, hitting their mark, and then Leliana stepped out from behind a column.  The tripped man started to go for his sword, and the Dalish man slammed the butt of the staff into his throat. 

The last man turned on Dorothea, and the Dalish man used the staff to vault over the remaining bench, landing between them.  The assassin flung a dagger, and the man twirled the staff, knocking the dagger out of the air just as Leliana's arrow pierced the assassin's throat.

"One then," he said, gesturing at the kneeling man, who held his stomach and vomited.

"Ew," Leliana said.

#

They dumped the bodies off the bluff.  Dorothea led the two back to her office.  "Leliana," she said, hugging the girl warmly.  She smiled at the Dalish man.  "Thank you for your help..."

Leliana smiled.  "This is Warden Constable Brehan Mahariel."

Dorothea's eyes widened.  "I'd heard there was an elf by that name at the battle of Denerim, but I did not realize you were Dalish.  It is an honor."

"The honor is mine, Revered Mother."

"Were those men why you sent the letter?" Leliana asked.

"They spring from the same source.  Please, both of you, sit."  She went to a small table, and poured tea.  "Warden Brehan, how much do you know of the Chantry?"

"Leliana has taught me much, but I make no claims of expertise."

She hesitated a moment.  "Are you..."

"If you are asking if I believe in the Maker, I do.  Just as I believe in the Creators."

She handed him the tea, then nodded.  "The current situation for the Chantry is... somewhat in flux.  Divine Beatrix was a strong woman, a force worth reckoning.  But of late, she is... she is an old woman, and has fallen ill."

"I see," Leliana said.

"There are rumors that she suffers from a fragility of mind."  Dorothea sipped at her own tea.  "At the moment... I am her named successor."

"And there are those who would prefer another," Brehan said.

"There are, along with other considerations.  My... past... is not spotless, as Leliana may have told you."

"I truly doubt anyone's past is, but from what she has told me, you are a good woman, and one in whom she found inspiration."

Dorothea blinked, and then smiled warmly at Leliana.  "She honors me."

"I speak only truth, Revered Mother."

"I believe..."  Dorothea sighed.  "I believe I want this.  I could do good, for all of Thedas.  In many ways, we are heading down a dark path.  There are so many rumors of abuses in the Circles.  Our..." she glanced at Brehan, and sighed.  "Relations with the elves leave so much to be desired.  Tevinter pushes, there are the Qunari to consider and..."

Leliana and Brehan exchanged a look.  Leliana nodded slowly.  "You want to be Divine."

"I want to make the world a better place.  Will you help me?"

They exchanged another look.  Brehan nodded to Leliana.  "Yes," Leliana said.  "We will help you."

"Then..." she sighed.  "I must get to Val Royeaux.  And there are many who will try to stop me.  There will be many dangers on the road.  I need someone who can help me navigate those dangers, someone I can trust."

"Then it isn't me you need," Leliana said.  She turned to Brehan.  "Well?"

He smiled.

#

Leliana almost giggled when she saw Dorothea staring at where Schmooples was cuddled against Vir'ghilani.  Dorothea shook her head.  "You travel with a nug..."  She glanced from one animal to the other.  "And a wolf."

"Shhh...," Brehan said, pressing a finger to his lips.  "We haven't told Vir'ghilani that his best friend is a nug.  It might confuse him."

Dorothea laughed.  "Well, I suppose if those two can get along, perhaps there is hope for templars and mages."

"Are you ready?" Leliana asked.

"I am."

"Vir'ghilani, ven."  The wolf stood, and slipped out, followed a moment later by Brehan. 

Leliana gave a slow ten count, then heard the bird call.  She took Dorothea's hand, and led her into the woods.

#

"I'm bored."

She just sighed, and shook her head.  Then sighed again.  "Me too.  Is it wrong that I actually do miss the days when we were running for our lives?" 

"And I swear, the next time I hear the words, 'but your majesty', come out of Eamon's mouth I'm going to..."  He shook his head, considered a moment, and came up with, "send him as the ambassador to the Anderfels."

"As long as he takes Isolde with him."  She leaned against his back, resting her jaw on the top of his head.  "I heard from Jerath.  He has finished overseeing the removal of the last darkspawn pockets in Redcliffe, and will be departing for Vigil's Keep.  Why don't you visit the tower like you planned, and take the long way round?  Stop in for dinner and say hello."

"I think you are trying to get me out of the meeting with the ambassador from Starkhaven."

"I think if you and the Starkhaven ambassador spend any more time around each other, we are going to be at war with the Free Marches."

#

He ranged ahead, leaving signs for Leliana.  Now and then, he'd send the wolf back.  They kept well away from the roads, cutting through forest and stream.  The sure-footed little pony they'd found for Dorothea helped them make good time, even with the older woman.

Familiar leaves caught his eye, and he added the elfroot to his pouch.  A mile more brought a pool near a bluff, sheltered on most sides.  Evening was growing close.  It was a good place to camp.  He set the sign, sent the wolf back, and went to find dinner.

#

Dorothea smiled gratefully when Leliana handed her the poultice.  She wasn't sure which hurt more, her feet or her... At least she was sure none of her enemies would come looking for her here.  She tried to make herself comfortable as Brehan built a small cooking fire.  "I like your young man," she said to Leliana.

"I like him to," Leliana said.

He shook his head at them, then set the rabbits to cook.

#

He held up a hand, and they stopped moving forward.  She watched him scan the trees, and wondered if he'd sensed darkspawn.  Then he smiled.  "Andaran atish'an."

"Aneth ara," a voice answered.  Four young elves, dressed lightly in leather armor, stepped out of the trees, holding bows at the ready.  "You keep odd company, brother."

"A warden must walk many paths, da'len," Brehan replied.

They started to nod, and then one of them jerked his head up and stared, slack jawed.  "By the Dread Wolf, you're Mahariel."

"I am."

Bows lowered, and the young hunters immediately began to talk over each other.  The eldest of them held out a hand to forestall the others.  "Keeper Nakina will have our heads if we don't bring you back to the camp."

"I do not travel these woods alone, da'len, and I am charged with the protection of my companions."

"We will swear them safe passage, Hahren."

Brehan turned to them.  "What say you?"

"I would be honored beyond belief," Dorothea replied.

#

Leliana was amused by how easily Dorothea stared in the camp.  While they got a few unwelcoming stares, none of the Dalish affected overt hostility.  Keeper Nakina even made a point to greet them both, and offer them a place at her fire.  It did not take long for her and Dorothea to be chatting like long lost friends.  But then, both were strong leaders, responsible for the well being of their people.

At the fire, Brehan was telling the story of the fight against the archdemon.  He'd told it enough of late that it was a practiced tale.  The children's eyes were wide as he told them of Riordan's sacrifice, and he gestured to Leliana when he spoke of the ballista.  The way he told the story, it had been the act of a trained and heroic warrior, rather than a lucky shot, and he completely neglected to mention the only reason she'd even had the chance is he'd held off dozens of darkspawn by himself. 

She made herself comfortable when the storyteller, a Hahren Solani, returned the favor by telling the story of The Long Walk, the elvish journey to the Dales and the founding of Halamshiral.

#

"Thank you," Dorothea said softly, some time after they'd left the Dalish encampment.

Brehan raised an eyebrow at her.  "You are welcome.  For what?"

"Allowing me among your people.  It was... enlightening.  I had not heard that version of the story before."  She shook her head.  "Some day, perhaps, I would like to hear more such stories."

He nodded.  "That... can likely be arranged."

"Are you familiar with the chant?"

"Leliana has been teaching me.  Parts of it are lovely."

"And parts of it are as dull as dishwater?"

"I... was not going to say such, but yes."

"Will you show me on the map where we are now?"

Leliana handed it to him, and he indicated their position with the tip of a finger.  Dorothea blinked.  "We have made better time than I had hoped."  She touched a village.  "There are friends waiting for me here.  How long?"

"If we push, you can dine with them tonight."

#

They were within sight of Vigil's Keep when a panicked soldier came running in their direction.  He fell, then scrambled back to his feet and headed towards them.  "Darkspawn.  Darkspawn everywhere."

"Maker," Alistair said.  He turned to his soldiers.  "Double time, we must help."

#

Jerath met them at the gates, a few others with him.  The courtyard was littered with dead, spawn and soldier, but he sensed no living darkspawn.  As he approached, Jerath gave him a wry look, then, to his surprise, dropped to one knee.  The soldiers with him blinked, then mirrored his actions.

Alistair nodded, then gestured for his own men to stand down.  He walked forward.  "It looks like I arrived a bit late.  Too bad.  I rather miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing."

A knight behind Jerath blinked in shock, then belatedly dropped to her own knee.  "King Alistair!"

He sighed.  "I'd wanted to come and give the Wardens a formal welcome.  I certainly wasn't expecting this.  What's the situation?"

It was the older man who responded.  "What darkspawn remained have fled, your Majesty.  The Grey Wardens who had arrived from Orlais appear to be either dead or..."  He swallowed.  "Missing."

Alistair blinked.  "Missing?  As in taken by the darkspawn?"  He looked at Jerath.  "Do they even do that?"

"I do not know, your Majesty," the older man continued.  "I know only that we cannot account for all the Wardens."

"I see.  At least the Warden Commander is still here, and alive.  That's something, right?"

"I'm fine, Alistair," Jerath said.  "But this makes things difficult."

"That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?"  He looked up at the castle.  The rain was keeping the fire from spreading, but there was considerable damage.  He remembered Saitada telling him not to worry, with the Blight over Warden Commander would be a fairly easy job.  "What did happen?"

"Still figuring that out," Jerath said.  "I arrived to find the darkspawn holding my fort.  We've taken it back, saved who we could."

He glanced back at his soldiers, wondering how many he could leave.  He had few enough already, and the road to the Circle was still dangerous.  Jerath nodded before he could say anything, and he knew his friend understood.  "You have quite the task ahead of you.  Really, I'd like to help you fight darkspawn, but you're on your own for the moment."

The dwarf spoke up, and Alistair had to keep from wincing.  He knew that voice.  "Hey!  What am I?  Chopped nug livers?"

A man holding a mage staff laughed.  "From the smell, that's not a bad guess."

"I came here to join the Grey Wardens, and from the looks of it, you could use the extra hands!  Where's the giant cup?  I'll gargle and spit!"

For a moment, he marveled at how much Jerath looked like Saitada, with that irritated expression on his face.  The elf glanced at the dwarf.  "You're not allowed to spit."

"Heh.  That's what I always say..."

"I..."  A young knight nodded.  "Suppose all are welcome, in this dire time."  She looked less than thrilled.  Alistair wondered if she were also a recruit.

"Joining the Wardens, hey?  Well good luck with that," the mage said.

Next to him, Rylock spoke up.  "King Alistair!  Your Majesty, beware!  This man is a dangerous criminal!"

Well, that was true, but he was also the Warden Commander and had been given a full royal pardon for all actions prior to Alistair's ascent to the throne.  He was still a little concerned about Brosca's insistence about that for all of them.  Alistair shrugged and kept his voice light.  "Oh, the dwarf is a bit of an arse, but I wouldn't go that--"

The mage interrupted.  "She means me."

Rylock glared.  "This is an apostate who we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice!"

"Oh please.  The things you people know about justice would fit int a thimble.  I'll just escape again, anyhow."

"Never!  I will see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer!"

"Murderer?  But those templars were -- oh, what's the use?  You won't believe me anyhow."

"It seems there isn't much to say."  Alistair started to turn to Rylock, then noted Jerath take a step forward.  "You have something to add, Commander?"

"I do.  I hereby conscript this mage into the Grey Wardens."

"Never!" Rylock said.

Alistair held up a hand, and watched her backdown.  Sometimes, it was good to be the king.  "I believe the Grey Wardens still retain the Right of Conscription, no?  I will allow it."  He didn't add because otherwise, the Warden Commander will just kill you and conscript the mage anyway.  He thought it went without saying.

"If..."  She glared.  "If your Majesty feels it is best."   She turned and stalked away.

"Ha!  Way to go kid!  Welcome aboard!"

The mage smiled.  "Me?  A Grey Warden?  I guess that will work..."

The knight's face practically lit up.  Someone had a crush.  "Congratulations, ser mage.  I look forward to fighting at your side."

"Then if you have everything under control, I will need to take my leave."

The old man nodded.  "I believe the estate has been secured, yes.  We have suffered great losses, but the darkspawn are gone and there are survivors."  He suddenly blinked, and then turned apologetically to Jerath.  "Oh..."  He nodded.  "Excuse my manners.  I am Varel, seneschal of Vigil's Keep.  And I am most grateful for your timely rescue, Commander."  He bowed.  "I will aid you in ruling the lands of Amaranthine."  Alistair blinked.  Maybe he should get a seneschal.

"Are there other survivors than the ones at the fall back point?"  Jerath asked.  His voice was quiet and calm.  It occurred to Alistair that this was Jerath's fort.  And the dead were Jerath's men.  His friend was furious.  He almost felt sorry for the darkspawn.

"Some of the soldiers and Vigil staff survived behind a barricade.  But none of the Orlesian Wardens made it."  Varel bowed.  "Come and speak to me soon.  There are many matters to attend to, not the least of which is the Joining.  You will need to replenish your numbers."

Alistair gestured to his men to stay put, then nodded to Jerath.  Jerath followed him to the side.  "The security of Ferelden relies on the Grey Wardens now, even weakened as the order is."  Alistair sighed.  "It will be up to you to deal with the vestiges of the Blight before the situation grows out of control.  No easy task, but I'm confident you are up to it."

"Careful, Alistair.  You are starting to sound like a king."  Jerath's lips twitched ever so slightly.

It was wrong to punch his arls.  Alistair smiled.  "Good luck, Commander.  May the Maker watch over you."

#

Leliana put a hand on his chest.  He nodded to her, and pulled the cloak up to hide his face.  "I will stay back," he said.  "Let you two do the talking."

Dorothea nodded, and walked ahead with Leliana.  She headed towards a man standing just outside a tavern, watching the road.  "Alderic," she said.

He turned.  Leliana saw it in his eyes.  She knew Dorothea had seen it as well.  The men moved in, surrounding them.  Alderic gave her a respectful nod.  "I am sorry," he said.

"So am I," Dorothea replied.

Leliana did not look over her shoulder.  They had not seen him.  No use giving him away.  She could only hope he would find a chance.

#

The men actually bound their hands.  Leliana did not know if she was insulted or flattered.  Alderic kept them near the road, but off of it.  He was taking no chances.  "Where are you taking us?" Dorothea asked him.

"There are some people who need to ask you some questions."

"So that is how it is to be then, old friend?"

He shook his head.  "It's the game.  You know how it is played."  He shrugged.  "We wanted to take you on the road, but my man back in Valence says you gave him the slip.  How'd you get past him?"

"The blessing of the Maker."

"You know, Dorothea, we don't need your friend alive.  Just you."  He started to stand up, and then two arrows buried themselves in his chest.  He blinked, and looked down at them.  More arrows fell.  Two of the mercenaries went for their own bows, and then Brehan was in their midst, a long handled axe in his hands.  Out of the trees poured a dozen Dalish hunters. 

"Ir abelas," Brehan said, coming behind them to cut their hands free.  "I did not think I could take this many on my own."

"No apology necessary," Dorothea said, getting to her feet.

"Ma serannas," Leliana said, bowing to the hunters.  They nodded, and began stripping the camp.

#

Dorothea insisted the Dalish take the coin they'd found on Alderic.  She watched them vanish back into the woods.  "However did you convince them to come to our aid?"

Brehan blinked, and looked at her.  "I asked nicely."

After a moment, she nodded.  "I... thank you."

He nodded, and drew the cloak back up over his features.

The next day brought them to Val Royeaux.

#

"So..."  Alistair hesitated.  "Your new guard captain."

"Ser Gilmore."

He sighed.  "You and he were once..."

Cathiel shook her head.  "We were young together, Alistair.  But we were never serious about each other.  Ser Gilmore and I are friends, and nothing more."  She smiled.  "And now, I think I'm going to smack you for even thinking I would look at another man, my king."

"I wasn't thinking it, I swear," he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  "I trust you.  I was more concerned about rumors."

She sighed.  "With the exception of Fergus, anyone who knew about Rory and I..."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.  "I'm sorry.  I'm an idiot and I'm sorry."

#

"The Crows send their..."  The assassin was cut off as he stepped on the glyph she'd set earlier.

She leaned over and pinched his cheek.  "He's adorable.  Can we keep him?"

Zevran shook his head.  "You know these assassin types.  Soon, he'll be drinking all the brandy, ogling Brosca, and the innuendo..."  He waved a hand.  "And that is my job, no?"

Brosca bound their prisoner's hands, then nodded to Lenore.  She dispelled the magic that held him in place.

"Um..."  The crow swallowed.

Lenore smiled brightly.  "I don't suppose you can tell us where we might find Guildmaster Antonio?"

Chapter Text

"Why are we breaking into a mage's prison?"  Brosca busied himself picking the lock before the templars regained consciousness.

"To rescue a damsel in distress, of course."  Lenore checked her supply of the powders.  With the veil this thin, she wasn't sure throwing around a lot of magic would be a good idea. 

"Will she be suitably grateful and ply us with kisses?" Zevran asked.

"She's a Chantry sister, like Leliana."

"So..."  Zevran raised an eyebrow.  "That's a yes?"

Brosca snickered.

#

The mask hid his vallaslin.  In servant's clothes, walking behind Leliana, nobody looked at him twice.  He was surprised to realize he was rather enjoying himself, watching the nobles twist and plot.  They reminded him of twittering birds, filled with self-importance, fighting over shiny threads for their nests and not even realizing a cat walked among them.

Leliana was dressed as a noblewoman, in a mask that was a more ornate version of the one he wore.  She walked next to Dorothea, chatting meaninglessly about various imaginary sins and a new chapel to be built on her estate.

"Vandan, would you go fetch the Revered Mother and I fresh drinks," Leliana said, gesturing to him absently.

"Yes, mistress," he replied.  They'd spent days working on his Orlesian accent.  His Orlesian was somewhat better than her elvish.

Among the servants, especially the elves, things immediately relaxed behind the closed doors.  They played their own versions of the game, spying on each other, dropping hints both intentional and otherwise.  He dropped hints of his own.  His mistress was a minor noble.  Her father was arranging to marry her to a Ferelden.  She was considering swearing herself to the Chantry to get out of it, but wasn't sure if the life was for her.  Perhaps she'd leave Val Royeaux with a better match.

He took the tea.  An eligible, wealthy woman of noble blood would be a fine prize.  It would not be long before Leliana had the invitations she wanted.

#

Lenore carried the tea to Lily's room, and sat down next to the woman.  "It still..."  Lily's smile was tentative.  "It's still hard for me to believe you're real.  That you actually came for me."

"I'm sorry it took so long."  Lenore patted the other woman's hand.  Her eyes went to the scars on Lily's arm, and she sighed.  "I..."

"You did have a Blight."  Lily curled her fingers around Lenore's.  "Maker, you knew me for less than a day.  It's a wonder you came for me at all."

They sat in silence for a while, and then Lily sighed.  "Do you know..."  She looked at Lenore.  "Jowan?"

"He's alive.  He's..."  She smiled.  "Actually doing some good with his life."

"Could you..."  The tea cup shook in Lily's hand.  "For the past year, I..."  She set the cup down.  "I've been telling myself I should have gone with him.  That we could have saved each other and..."

"Do you want me to let him know you're here?"  Lenore raised an eyebrow.

For a long time, Lily was silent.  And then she met Lenore's eyes.  "Yes."

#

"I like the mask," Leliana said.  "My raven."  She kissed him.

"It itches," he said, before kissing her back.  "It is interesting, how they hide their faces without hiding anything."

Dorothea smiled.  "It is how the game is played."

"True, but it gives them false confidence.  They still give many emotions away."  He shrugged.  "The one you spoke to earlier may have spoken with command, but she smelled of fear."

"There is no way you can actually smell fear," Leliana said.

Brehan laughed.  "I tracked Jerath by scent halfway across the Dead Trenches, and it surprises you that I can smell fear on a woman practically dripping with sweat?"

"The other was a warden thing."  She tilted her head at him.  "Right?"

"Ma dirth vir, ma'arlath."

"Emma shem'nan, vhenan."

Dorothea shook her head fondly.  "I believe I am settled here.  They will not dare strike at me in the very heart of the Chantry."  She leaned on the desk.  "You two have done much for me already, but I must ask one thing more."  From her desk, she withdrew a small box.  "This relic must make it to Grand Cleric Francesca, in Starkhaven.  With this, I can be sure of her backing in the Grand Consensus."

"We will see it done, Hahren," Brehan said.

"Hahren?"

"An elvish word.  Respected elder."

"Someday, perhaps, when we have more time to speak, I would like to learn more of your people."

"I look forward to it."

#

Brosca narrowed his eyes.  "No deal."

"But..."

"You think I don't know a slaver run when I see it?"  He set a hand on his mace.  "Get gone, duster.  And if I get even a whiff you're trying this play, I'll feed you to a genlock."

He watched the man flee the room.  Zevran grinned.  "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are when you are threatening people?"

"You.  Yesterday."  He grinned.  "And the day before."

Zevran laughed.  "So, I heard a rumor."

"Oh?  Was it a dirty one?"

"It seems that a certain dwarf may be taking over the Antivan Crows."

"So, when you say you heard a rumor, what you really mean is that you started one."  Brosca shook his head and laughed.  "Not sure I want to take over the Crows.  Maybe rival them a bit.  House Brosca, finest mercenaries and assassins in all of Thedas."

#

Alistair grinned, and saw his guard captain blush slightly.  "So, who is she...?"

"I don't know who you mean, your majesty," Ser Gilmore replied.

"Your shirt is buttoned wrong."  Alistair pointed.  Ser Gilmore looked down, then shook his head and began fixing it.  "So... who is she?"  He smiled mischievously at the man he'd starting thinking of as a brother.  "Lady Bryland?"

Ser Gilmore's expression at the suggestion was hilarious.  "No, your majesty."

"Bann Alfstanna."  Actually, that would be a pretty good match, come to think of it.

"No, your majesty."  Ser Gilmore started walking. 

Alistair fell into step beside him and began suggesting more names.  "Ser Cauthrien?  Lady Malia?  That blond accompanying the ambassador from Wycome?  Wynne?"

The last suggestion nearly resulted in Ser Gilmore walking into a door.  He sighed.  "If I tell you, will you drop the subject?"

"If you don't tell me, I'll tell Cathiel, and let her pester it you of you."

"She's..."  He shook his head.  "Ser, she's an elf.  She came up from Redcliff to help with the reconstruction."

"Does she have a name?"

Ser Gilmore shuffled his feet reluctantly, then sighed.  "Nesiara."

Alistair blinked.  "I know that name.  Why do I know that..."  His eyes widened.  "Oh."  He shook his head.  "Oh.  That's... Maker's breath, do you have a death wish?"

"She's from Highever.  Most of her family worked in the castle.  They died when..."  Ser Gilmore sighed.  "We got to talking, and one thing led to another and..."  He folded his arms.  "I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Alistair clapped him on the shoulder.  "Wonderful."

"It's not a problem then?"

"Why would it be a problem?"

"She's an elf."

"Maker's breath, man.  Do you remember what happened to the last people who tried interfering with her wedding?" 

#

When Justinia said she would send someone to help, the last thing Cassandra expected to see walk through the door was a Dalish elf.  The apostate was just as surprised.  "You seem to be lost," he said, sneering.

"Cassandra?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

He looked at the apostate.  "No, this seems to be the place."

The apostate raised his staff, and the elf threw something into his face.  He started to wheeze and choke, and the elf produced an axe nearly as tall as he was.  As the sell swords closed, he proved well able to handle the weapon.

She realized that they'd all but forgotten her.  She smashed the back of her head into the face of the man who held her, then pushed off from him to kick the other man in the stomach.  As he staggered, she retrieved her sword, and joined the fray.

They stood back to back.  She saw the apostate start to gather his magic again.  "Vir'ghilani, na'din," her new companion shouted.  From out of nowhere a massive wolf leaped upon the apostate, and buried its teeth in his arm.  The man let out a scream of agony.

A few moments later, the last of the sellswords was dead, and she was standing over the apostate.  He was begging and pleading as the wolf held his arm.  "Vir'ghilani, halam."

The wolf let go of the apostate's arm and trotted over to his master.  His tongue hung out of his mouth as he happily accepted a scratch behind the ears.

Cassandra looked down at the apostate, and leveled her sword at his throat.  "Would you prefer to answer my questions," she asked, then nodded at the man with the axe.  He bared his teeth in a savage smile.  "Or theirs?"

#

He'd disappeared when the templars came.  She was on her way back towards Val Royeaux when he fell into step beside her.  "I did not catch your name."

"Brehan."

She stopped, then shook her head.  "As in Warden Constable Brehen Mahariel?"

He shook his head.  "Stories tend to travel."

"They left out that you were Dalish.  And..."  She spared a glance for the wolf who was walking calmly beside him.  "I don't recall hearing of him."

"He was only a few weeks old when the archdemon died.  Didn't really have a chance to play much role in that tale.  And half the Orlesians who've heard the tale think Brehan Mahariel is a human."  He shrugged.  "The other half are convinced he's a dwarf."

"Are the wardens involved in this matter then?"

"I was headed this way to deal with an issue.  Justinia asked if I wouldn't mind aiding you, if it was not too much trouble."

She held her hand out to the wolf, and smiled when it licked her fingers.  "I suppose you are going to tell me it was no trouble at all."

"Not in the slightest.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to wash blood off a wolf?"

#

"I see you've brought a new student for Master Leyvn," Lily said, taking the boy from Lenore.

She nodded.  "We recovered him from the Crows.  They bought him after he called up fire in his hands to defend himself from some bullies."

Lily cradled the child, and stroked his hair gently.  "Maker, he can't be much older than seven."

"How are the others doing?"

"The girl has finally started talking.  Her name is Agatha."  Lily sighed.  "Her mother was taken to the tower.  Agatha tried to sneak in, only to discover her mother had been made tranquil.  The templars saw her and tried to chase her down."

Lenore shuddered.  "Has she manifested any magic?"

"No.  And Leyvn doesn't believe she will.  But she's wonderful with the other children."

"How are you doing on funds?"

"Oh, on that front you needn't worry.  Brosca's been quite clever with the books.  We can actually make something approaching an honest living."

"Where's the fun in that?"

#

Cathiel stood as Cyrion entered the room, greeting the elderly elf with a hug and a warm smile.  "Your son sends greetings and says he will be paying a visit to Denerim as soon as he's done dealing with a minor dragon problem in the Burning Canyon."

"My son, the dragon hunter," Cyrion shook his head and smiled.  "Tell me, was it he or the soldiers there that referred to the dragon problem as 'minor'?"

"The soldiers, which is why I'm not sending reinforcements." She laughed, and gestured for him to join her at the table.  They chatted amiably for a while.  At first Cyrion had been a little uncertain as to how to relate to her and Alistair.  It hadn't taken him long to simply start treating them much the way he treated Shianni, Soris, and Jerath himself.  He even fussed at Alistair for not eating properly.  "How are things in the alienage?"

Cyrion hesitated before answering, and Cathiel sighed.  "There have been some incidents.  Several merchants are resenting the influx of elvish crafts in the marketplace, especially now that trade relations with the Dalish are settling nicely.  Thus far though, violence has been minimal."

"That is good to hear, at least.  What of this 'mugging' that occurred?"

"A few of our hotheads encountered a few of your hotheads attempting to carve their names in the vhenadahl.  As young hotheads are wont to do, they inflicted violence upon each other.  It was broken up before anyone was severely injured, but it seems the report given to the guards told a much different tale than what actually occurred."

"I was afraid it was something like that.  I will speak to the guard about ensuring they have all the facts before they take action in the future."

"I believe Ser Gilmore has already done so.  That is one reason for my visit, your majesty.  I would like to put forth a motion to allow us to have our own guard.  A small militia, one trained to prevent such outbreaks before they get the chance to occur."

"A reasonable request.  I will speak to my husband and we will see it done."

"Thank you, your majesty.  I have a group of six I believe can form the core of such a group.  I will ensure they are prepared for when the motion is put forth."  He bowed, but hesitated before leaving.  "He is well?"

"When next I travel to Amaranthine, you should accompany me.  You would be proud of what your son has accomplished there."

"Thank you, your majesty."  He hugged her before departing, planting a kiss on her cheek.  She smiled as she watched him leave. 

#

They'd encounted many strange things during the Blight, and been through many an unusual situation.  Still, if anyone had told him he'd one day be in the retinue of the Divine, standing thirty feet away from the Empress of Orlais, he'd probably have laughed.  The raven mask that hid his vallaslin sat comfortably on his face as he stood just a pace behind Leliana, playing the role of servant once more.

He caught a glimpse of an elf woman behind the Empress.  If he wasn't mistaken, she was playing the same role he was.  Attentive servant.  Spy.

Justinia finished intoning the blessing over the Empress, and returned to her throne.  He and Leliana began to move through the crowd.  Leliana played deftly.  A smile here, a lingering glance there.  He watched the faces of those that thought they were safe from her eyes.  He marked two.

They'd compare notes later.  Leliana smiled at Arl Teagan, and the man created her without any sign of recognition.  The man might not enjoy his role as ambassador, but he was the logical choice.  The Divine was concerned about Alistair's support of the Ferelden circle, and its push for more freedom.  Trouble was simmering, and Justinia sat uneasily on the Sunburst Throne.

He'd meet with Teagan privately later.  As much as he admired Lenore, Alistair was pushing too hard too fast.  Ferelden was still weak from the Blight, and the Chantry's seat of power was Orlais.

One second thought, maybe it was time for a trip back to Ferelden.  Some arguments were best had in person.

#

Alistair stood just to the side of his guard captain.  Cyrion stood next to him, and a step further down stood Fergus Cousland.  Across, Cathiel stood on the bride's side, with Shianni next to her and Keeper Lanaya on the next step.  Their positions had been chosen carefully.  As happy as he was for Ser Gilmore, he couldn't deny that this event was just as much about politics as it was about marriage. 

The Orlesian ambassador looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, but the man was in attendance.  Knight Commander Greagoir was also present, and seated next to Wynne.

Nesiara looked beautiful.  She and Cathiel had spent ages discussing the dress.  The headband that kept the veil in place had been a gift from Keeper Lanaya, and was clearly of Dalish craftsmanship.  What better way to show the unity of a people than by blessing the union of two?

Jerath had put aside his usual dragonskin in favor of warden armor, even wearing the cloak Leliana had given just before the Landsmeet.  He walked Nesiara to the altar, and put her hand in Ser Gilmore's, then took his seat.

Alistair looked across at Cathiel.  His wife had tears in her eyes, and was smiling.  Maker, she was beautiful.

#

"Did I have that silly of a smile on my face when Cathiel and I were married?"

"If I answer that question honestly, you'll try to order my execution," Jerath replied.

Alistair laughed.  "Try would be the right word.  You've more knights than I do."  He shook his head.  "Where did you find them all?"

"Did you know being an Arl gives me the power to grant pardons?"

"Yes it..."  Alistair started to laugh.  "You recruited bandits?"

"Just the ones that turned to banditry due to Rendon.  No few of them were soldiers before he started making trouble." 

"Maker, Jerath, you can't just go around turning bandits into knights."

"You know, if killing Rendon's soldiers is a crime..."

"Fair point."  He leaned back against the wall and gave Jerath a contemplative look.  "You know, if it wasn't for the Blight, I'd be a templar by now, and you'd be married to that woman."

"If it wasn't for the Blight, you'd be a templar.  I'd have been executed, she'd have gone back to Highever, and married Ser Gilmore there."

Alistair looked over to where Ser Gilmore and Nesiara were dancing, completely oblivious to everyone else in the room.  "Some things were meant to be, I suppose."  He glanced back at Jerath. "What's this I hear about you fighting Qunari?"

"Tal-Vashoth.  The Qunari were on our side."  His lips twitched slightly.  "There were also dragons and Orlesians.  And an alleged bear."

"I think I'm going to need a drink for this one."

#

"I'm not going back on my promise, Brehan."  Alistair folded his arms and glared.

"I'm not asking you to."  Brehan shook his head.  "I'm just asking you to slow it down a little.  With the Resolutionists trying to stir things up, now is a really bad time.  Starkhaven's tower actually burned down, and Kirkwall... Kirkwall's a disaster waiting to happen."

Alistair sighed.  "How about this... I'll tell Irving to hold off pushing through his latest, and in return, I don't want to hear any more claims of the returning mages being apostates."  He was pretty sure Irving's latest list of suggestions was merely meant to distract from the number of refugee mages that had been taken in by the circle.  And judging by the expression on Brehan's face, he knew it too.

"Some of those mages are being actively hunted, Alistair.  The templars have their phylacteries."

"And they will find them sitting quietly, studying in a circle, under the watchful eyes of other templars.  Isn't that all they want, anyway?"

"Not all of them are innocent."

Alistair just shook his head.  "You know, if I had to pick who would one day be standing here, arguing with me on behalf of no less than the Divine herself, you definitely would have been the last.  Well, no Morrigan would have been the last, but after that, you."

"Fate has taken us to strange places."  Brehan smiled.  "Your Majesty."

#

Brosca and Zevran were both asleep.  She smiled.  Asleep they both looked so sweet and innocent.  She headed into the room that served her as study and library, and pulled out Jerath's latest letter.  This ritual the Architect had cooked up to free the darkspawn from the effects of the calling; the implications were frightening.  And the possibilities were... intriguing.  If some way could be found to modify it, perhaps it could be used for the wardens themselves, eliminating the necessity of that final walk.

She went back to the notes he'd recovered from Soldier's Peak.  Avernus had been onto something.  Conscious control of the blight within them.  He'd written of experiments, of various concoctions.  Jerath hadn't recovered those.  But then, he'd survived killing an archdemon, and she suspected...  She sighed.  Whatever her suspicions, it was too late to do anything about them now.

Avernus's own letter was interesting.  Blood magic could extend the life of a Grey Warden, but the price was far too high.  There had to be a way that didn't involve blood magic and demons.

Chapter Text

Alistair stood next to the table.  He drew the cloth back so that he could see the man's face.  The left half was a ruin from where a twelve-pound rock had struck.  He sighed.

"Your majesty?" Ser Gilmore stood at the door.

"Find who did this," Alistair said.  "Find them, and have them hanged."

"We are already searching the city for them.  Your majesty, the elves are..."  Ser Gilmore swallowed.  "They've set fire to part of the western market.  They are rioting."

He closed his eyes, then looked down again at the ruined face of Bann Tabris.  The man had been unarmed, trying to make peace with his last breath.  A good man.  He turned to Ser Gilmore, hating himself with every fiber of his being.  And gave the order.  "Seal the Alienage."

"Yes, your majesty."  Ser Gilmore bowed, and left.

Cyrion had been murdered.  There was no doubt in his mind that the rock had been thrown with the intent of killing.  And the man's son would be arriving by ship within the day.  Jerath had taken him into the alienage, shown him what it was like.  He still had nightmares about that orphanage, what had been done.  Never again, he'd promised.

He pulled the sheet up to cover the ruined face.   "I'm sorry," he said.  The words felt empty. 

#

Cathiel strode down the hall and stopped.  Loghain stood in front of the door, his stance frankly hostile.  Two of her guardsmen laid on the ground not far from him, though from their position it seemed they were merely unconscious.  Loghain glanced at them, then back at her, before stating, "the Commander does not wish to be disturbed, your majesty."

"Dammit, Loghain.  I'm not here as the queen.  I'm here as his friend."

To her surprise, Loghain stepped to one side instead of arguing.  "Your majesty..." he started to say, then stopped.

"What?"

"Many mistake his calm for a lack of emotion.  I advise you against making the same error."

She bit back a response, instead giving Loghain a nod before she entered the room.  Jerath stood, for once not standing before the window.  He appeared to be engrossed in a map hanging on the wall.  "Jerath..."

"The alienage is burning."

"They rioted as soon as the news hit.  I am so sorry, Jerath.  I..."

"The alienage is burning," he repeated.

"I know."  She waited a few moments, but he did not respond.  "We are trying to find the men responsible..."

"For what purpose?"

"Justice."

"A human word.  Meaningless."

"Jerath..."

"A ship leaves for Amaranthine tomorrow.  I will ask Shianni if she will take my father's place as the Bann."

"I was hoping you would..."

"I will not."

"Why?"

Jerath turned back to the map.  "I am a Warden, Cathiel.  In war, victory.  In peace, vigilance.  In death, sacrifice.  Name Shianni to the position of Bann."

"The people here look up to you..."

"The people here murdered my father," his voice remained calm, but chilled.

"You cannot blame all for the actions of a few."

Slowly, Jerath turned.  Cathiel found herself taking an involuntary step backwards.  "I swear by gods old and new I am sick of hypocrisy.  I am a Warden, Cathiel, and Grey Wardens stand apart.  Be grateful for that.  It's all that is keeping Denerim standing at the moment.  Name Shianni as bann if you wish to continue your little charade of believing that precious little ass sits on the throne any better than those who sat there before.  I will have no part of it."

She wished she knew what to say.  And she wished she wasn't grateful that he was standing aside.  "I am sorry, Jerath."

"More words.  Go away, Cathiel."

She walked to the door.  "I... I will announce Shianni as the new bann in the morning.  I hope you will be there."  When he didn't respond, she sighed, and left the room.

#

Alistair stood, looking down at an urn that contained the ashes of a good man.  In the last couple years, Cyrion had become almost a father to him.  It was still hard to believe the man was gone.

Gone.  Jerath Tabris had vanished in the dead of night.  Loghain with him.  Shianni and Soris has spoken with him, but he'd given no sign of where he was going.  Both had been surprised to find him gone.  He'd left a chest in his room containing the helm of the Warden-Commander and a note turning the title over to Saitada.  No one had seen him leave the city.

He'd hoped...  Ser Gilmore had reported that the three men who had instigated the violence, and the one that had thrown the rock that had ended Cyrion's life, had fled the city.  He'd hoped that Jerath had just gone to take care of that matter.  When Jerath hadn't returned in the first couple days, he'd announced the procession and held the funeral anyway, assuming the man would show up for the event.

Nothing.  There was a rumor he'd been seen at the Circle tower, but nothing more.  Alistair looked again at the urn.  "He can take care of himself."  He swallowed, his throat thick with grief.  "Maker, he..."  He nodded to the urn.  "I told Brehan.  If there is a trail, he'll find it."

#

Warden Commander Clarel rose when she saw him.  "Warden Constable Brehan, it is an honor to meet you."

"The honor is mine, Warden Commander."  He gave her a respectful bow.  "Your fortress is incredible."

"The walls here were raised just after the First Blight.  Granted, they've been rebuilt several times since."  She came around her desk.  "What brings you to our hall?"

He sighed.  "I wish I could say it was merely a social call.  However, there is a matter I am investigating."

She closed her eyes and shook her head.  "I had heard a rumor.  It is true, then?"

"I am hoping, very much, to prove it false.  I've come to see if he could shed some light on the matter."

She nodded.  "He is down in the library.  He spends much of his time there, mostly avoiding the other wardens.  Frankly, I'm not sure what exactly to do with him.  He doesn't exactly work well with any of the other wardens."

He fell into step beside her.  "No.  He doesn't."

"I suppose that is why he was sent here though, isn't it?  A less personal distaste."  She shook her head.  "It's fortunate you arrived when you did.  I was about to send him south to deal with a sighting.  Whatever else he is, he is a strong fighter."

"He is at that."

She led him into the library, then gestured at some stairs.  Brehan could sense the man's presence.  "He's most likely down there.  If he's not, let me know."

"He's there."

"I assume you want to speak with him in private?"

"It would be appreciated.  He may be more willing to speak to me without others around."

She nodded, then started to step away.  She stopped.  "If he does know something... you'll let me know, right?  I never met the man, only heard stories.  They are..."  She sighed.  "Inspiring."

"The truth more so," Brehan replied.

#

Loghain looked up, and shoved the book he was examining away from him as he stood.  "You."  He shook his head.  "Not the one I expected to have come gloat."

"I'm not here to gloat, Loghain.  I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"I'm not sure I have the time.  As you can see," he gestured at the dusty, moldering books.  "I am a very busy man."

"You and Jerath left Denerim together.  Where did you go?"

Loghain sat back down.  "Soldier's Peak, if you must know.  Except the mage we'd come to see had died a few days before our arrival."

"Avernus."

"Yes, that's the one.  At which point, that ungrateful little..." Loghain clenched a fist.  "Decided he had no further need of his trophy, and sent me here.  To Orlais."

"And I suppose you are going to tell me you have no idea what prompted this action?"

Anger showed on Loghain's face.  "He wanted to recall the dwarf."

"Saitada."

"I advised him against it.  The conversation grew... heated."  Loghain reached forward and slammed the cover of the book shut, sending dust into the air.  "Why do you care, Constable?"  He made the title into an insult.

"Two days after you arrived here, Jerath visited the Circle of Magi, accompanied by a Dalish elf."

"Velanna."

"No.  Velanna was at Vigil's Keep when this occurred.  The woman Jerath arrived with was a hunter.  They left the circle a few hours later, taking with them some books and a mage.  None of which they had permission to take."  He watched Loghain's face carefully.  "No one has seen or heard from any of them since."

Loghain went still.  He shook his head.  Then shook it again.  "He's missing?"  The concern sounded genuine.

"Why did he go to Avernus?"

Loghain frowned, then folded his arms.  "He'd been writing letters back and forth to Lenore.  His original intention, I believe, had been to stay in Denerim and meet her there.  But... you know what happened."

"I do.  Did he say anything?"

"He was not in the best of moods.  In fact, he didn't do anything more than bark the occasional instruction until we actually reached the Peak.  And then..."  Loghain shook his head.

"He was furious, and you angered him further."  Brehan shook his head.  "Loghain, if you know anything, anything at all..."

"As hard as you may find this to believe, I did respect the man.  And..."  Loghain looked at the floor.  "If..."  His fists slammed into the table.  "If he got into trouble alone because I picked a fight over that stupid...  I suppose I can add that to the list of things for which I will never forgive myself, can't I?"

"He wanted to meet with Alistair and Cathiel in Denerim.  Do you know why?"

"Carver Hawke brought a report back from the Vinmark mountains.  He thought they might find it interesting.  Beyond that..."  Loghain shook his head.  "He was a young man and wanted visit old friends."

"Why did you accompany him to Denerim?"

"I insisted, actually.  I'd hoped to meet with Bann Ceorlic, convince him to assist Anora with her bandit problem on the northern border.  Assuming the bandits weren't reporting to him, that is."

"Were you in any way responsible for him going missing?"

"Ah, there is the question you came to ask.  You said it yourself, Constable.  I was here when he visited the circle.  Regrettably, I do not possess the power to harm people just by thinking angry thoughts."

"If you think of anything, you will let me know."

"Yes."

Brehan started to walk away.  "Constable?" Loghain called out. 

Brehan turned.  "Yes?"

"If..."  He sighed.  "When you find him, will you let me know?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

#

"What do you mean, Junior's missing?"  Brosca folded his arms and looked up at Brehan.

"I mean he's vanished."

Lenore shook her head.  "What exactly happened?"

Brehan sighed.  "He took ship in Amaranthine to go to Denerim.  While he was enroute, there..."  He shook his head.  "A group of jackasses started a riot at the alienage gate.  Bann Tabris tried to calm the situation and... someone started throwing rocks."

Lenore sat down heavily.  Jerath's father had been a sweet man.  "Cyrion is dead?"

Brehan nodded.  "The alienage immediately rioted, setting fire to part of the market.  Alistair and Cathiel... they didn't have much choice.  They sealed off the Alienage.  Which was when Jerath arrived.  Jerath and Cathiel argued, and Jerath left.  He sent Loghain to Orlais, paid a visit to the Ferelden Circle, stole a mage, and nobody has seen him since."  He shook his head.  "Lenore, you and Jerath corresponded regularly.  Do you know what he might have been doing at the circle?"

Lenore frowned.  "The last letter I received from Jerath was two weeks ago.  It included a copy of a report about a weird darkspawn in the Vinmark Mountains.  Corypheus.  Warden Hawke and his brother killed it."

"That's apparently what Jerath wanted to discuss with Cathiel and Alistair."

"Could he have gone to Vinmark?" Brosca asked.

"Nathaniel is in the Free Marches.  I sent a letter, but I've yet to receive a response."  Brehan shook his head.  "Here is the part that concerns me most.  Jerath recalled Saitada before he left for Denerim.  And right before leaving Denerim, he left a note for Saitada turning the position of Warden-Commander over to her."

Brosca shook his head.  "No.  No way in hell Junior abandons his post."

Lenore drew her knees up to her.  "He didn't.  He recalled Saitada."

"Fireball, you know what I..."

"I do.  But technically, he didn't abandon his post.  And I think that's important.  It means that..."  She sighed.  "It means that whatever he was doing mattered."

"But what was he doing?" Brehan asked.  He sighed.  "I'm heading to Orlais to talk to Loghain.  If you hear anything..."

"We find him, we'll drag him back to Ferelden by the ear."

Brehan shook his head.  "He turns up, he's to report to Weisshaupt immediately, per the direct order of the First Warden."  He sighed.  "He's to be taken there under guard if he objects."

Brosca snorted.  "With what sodding army?"

Chapter Text

Lenore held up a piece of parchment.  "We have a job.  One that requires our personal attention."

Brosca grinned.  "And pays well?"

"No, we'll be doing this one gratis."

"Gratis..." Zevran shook his head.  "I do not think I understand the meaning of this word."

"It means we're about to get screwed dry," Brosca muttered.  "What's the job?"

"Brehan is doing a favor for the Divine, and needs a bit of backup.  Apostates and some sort of doomsday cult thing."

"Well now."  Brosca grinned.  "You didn't mention the job would be fun."

#

She shook her head.  "There are almost fifty cultists in those ruins, and at least a dozen apostates.   And your backup is three wardens?"

Brehan smiled, and shook his head.  "No, Seeker.  My backup is two wardens.  And a crow."

Leliana started to laugh.

#

Brosca dispatched the last of the cultists.  Lenore bent down to work a healing spell over the prisoner, then walked over to examine the residual energies from the spell they'd been working.  He noted a bag of coins on a table, and casually pocketed it.

His lips twitched as he ignored the increasingly irritated sounds the bound man was making as he helped himself to few other interesting looking treasures.  Apparently, being a cultist paid at least somewhat well.  He glanced around the room.  Shit for life expectancy though.

He could almost make out the curses the bound man was bestowing upon him.  "I know, I know, emma shen'nan and all that."  He pulled out a dagger and cut Brehan free.  "How the hell did you end up trussed up by these idiots?"

Brehan shook his head.  "In case you didn't notice, there were quite a few of them."  He rubbed at his wrists.  "You did realize that one had a knife to my throat, yes?"

"Yeah, that's why I killed him first."  Brosca shook his head.  "Can you believe he actually asked me to surrender?  Like I'm going to be intimidated by a bunch of..."  He looked around again.  "What the hell were they worshiping anyway?"

"His exact words were 'surrender or the elf dies'," Brehan said.  "And one of the old gods.  Urthemiel."

Brosca blinked.  "Ain't that the one Junior stabbed in the head?"

"Apparently, they didn't get the news."

#

It was scandalous.  It would shake the foundations of the chantry.  Revered mothers would die of shock at the very notion.  And she wouldn't give up this moment for anything.  Justinia closed her eyes and listened as the voice of her Left Hand's Dalish lover wove the ancient elven hymn deep inside the heart of the Chantry.

She wiped a tear from her eye when he finished.  "Thank you, Brehan."

"Thank you, Most Holy."

"Leliana let slip that your name day passed recently."

He shot Leliana a look, and Leliana affected an expression of mock innocence.  "It did."

She held the tome out to him.  "I must ask that you keep this secret."  She sighed.  "The Canticle of Shartan is seen as heretical, and was stricken from the chant seven centuries ago.  I thought, perhaps, it may interest you."

He took the tome from her reverently.  "A rare and precious gift, Most Holy.  I shall treasure it."

"Could I... perhaps trouble you for another song?"

#

"When did you say you returned?"  Justinia asked.

"Just after Alistair's coronation," Leliana replied.  She looked around the temple.  With the ice melted and restoration proceeding, it was truly a marvel.

Justinia sighed.  "Brother Genetivi theorizes that the Guardian took the ashes elsewhere, to preserve them for a greater need in the future."

Brehan rose from where he had been examining one of the carvings.  "A valid theory.  We should have done more to safeguard them..."

"You had larger concerns at the time," Justinia said.  "And you took care of what you perceived as their greatest threat before even leaving these hills."  She sighed.  "Tell me again, what you beheld here."

#

Something about the elven woman was off.  Though her stance was indolent, her eyes were entirely too watchful.  Not just of the nobles, but even of other elves.  Her walk was measured.  Careful paces.  A fighter. 

It would be hours yet before he was due to meet Leliana.  He shrugged, and followed.  It took her all of three minutes to spot him, and she ducked into an alley.  Rather than follow, he jumped, grabbed hold of the advertising sign, and took to the roof.  From that vantage point, he could see her laying in wait, watching the corner.  There was a dagger in each of her hands. 

He stepped out, landing lightly behind her, then tackled her before she could recover.  She was faster than he'd expected.  Had not Vir'ghilani caught one of her arms, she might have managed to gain the advantage.  He picked up her knives.  "Crow?"

She glared at him.  "No."

"And yet you were clearly prepared to assassinate someone."

"What concern is it of yours?"  She narrowed her eyes. 

"Assassination is generally a frowned upon activity."

Her smile was slow.  "And someone who randomly jumps down off roofs to take people by surprise might just know a thing or two about assassinations."  She stood up.  "I'm Tallis."

"Raven."

"That's not your real name."

"Oh?  Are we on a real name basis?  You go first."

"You're Dalish.  What, one of the shemlen annoy you?"  She folded her arms.  "You made me.  You were watching.  Likely for a reason.  Our goals could be the same."

"I'm listening."

"I'm here for Comte de Allard."

"Kill or rob?"

"Best case scenario?"  She smiled.  "Both."

#

"Comte de Allard?" Leliana frowned.  "How do you come to be part of this?"

Tallis shrugged.  "I do the job, I get paid."

Leliana narrowed her eyes.  The girl wasn't being completely honest, but... perhaps they could make use of her anyway.  Their goals seemed to be the same.  She looked at Brehan.  "Allard is a fool who thinks what happened in Kirkwall was a good thing.  He's trying to provoke the Qunari, get another Exalted March started."  She sighed.  "Apparently, he thinks it will help his position in the Great Game."

"Orlais needs a new hobby," Brehan said.  "There is something you are not telling me." 

She nodded slowly.  "Allard was... an ally, of Raleigh."  She met Brehan's eyes, and saw understanding, and then anger.

"Well.  He needs to die." 

"I have a way in," Tallis said.  "But... I can't do it alone.  Will he recognize you?"

Leliana shook her head.  "It was long ago, and...  no.  He will not recognize me."

"You can take the invitation.  Raven and I will go in as your servants."  Tallis glanced at Brehan, then nodded. 

#

"Ma'arlath?" 

She heard Brehan's voice.  She leaned back into him, drawing comfort as he put his arms around her.  "It was a lifetime ago, Vhenan."  She sighed.  "Allard was part of an attempt to draw Ferelden and Orlai into war.  Now he seeks to use Qunari."

He kissed her hair, and held her for a few moments.  "Will this plan Tallis provided work?"

"I do not know.  I certainly do not trust her."  Leliana frowned.  "She is running her own game, but..."  She shook her head.  "We can use her, certainly.  If we are willing to let her use us in return."

"Tis the nature of the game, as they say."

"We will need to follow Allard back to his contacts, after we steal the documents."  She turned to face him.  "We can't let Tallis kill him."

Brehan kissed her.  "I won't let Tallis kill him."

She nodded.

#

"Please, sit," Allard said, gesturing at the guards holding them at arrow point.  "I'll be taking my documents back, if it's all the same."

Tallis narrowed her eyes.  She drew the papers from her belt, and started to hold them out.  Then she flung them into the fireplace.  "Oops."

Allard gave a vexed shout.  "You bitch.  I'm going to have you quartered!"  He ran to the fire, but was unsuccessful in being able to pull out more than char.

Leliana smirked.  She caught Brehan's eye, and he gave her a slight nod.  She glanced back at the furious Allard.  "Well, it appears we are at a bit of an impasse."  She ignored the guards, and seated herself at the table.  "Perhaps it is time we had an honest discussion."

He actually growled at her before he took the chair opposite her.  "I want to know who sent you."

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same," she said, her smile polite.  She gestured at Brehan, and he walked to the sideboard.  A moment later, he offered each of them a glass of wine.  She took hers. 

Allard glared at Brehan suspiciously, and Brehan took a drink from the other glass before handing it to him.  Allard snatched it out of his hand.  Tallis positioned herself near the fire, watching as some of the guards filtered out.  The decoys had served their purpose.  Allard was finished, and didn't even know it.  Time to see what else the man knew.

#

Brehan watched Leliana work.  As the candle burned down, he refilled the glasses.  When he was satisfied Leliana had all she needed, he made a small addition to Allard's glass.  As he'd done each time, he took a drink before giving it to the man.  After so long, the burn was easy to ignore.

Allard was still glaring.  "I suppose we have a deal."

Leliana glanced at Tallis, and the woman reluctantly sighed.  Good.  He had promised not to let Tallis kill Allard.  The man had hurt his nightingale.  Leliana nodded.  "Then our business is concluded."  She raised her glass, and Allard raised his. 

Both drank.  Leliana started to rise.  Allard started to choke. He had to hand it to Tallis, she was fast.  As soon as Allard's bodyguard started to react, she put a knife in his eye.  Allard gasped, and staggered before turning to Brehan.  "You... you drank too."

Brehan merely smiled.  He glanced at Leliana.  "I think we are done here."

Leliana shook her head.  "You..."

"I promised I wouldn't let Tallis kill him.  She didn't.  You have what you need."  He kissed her forehead.  "The guards are coming.  Let's move."

#

Tallis shook her head.  "Let me guess, you drank the antidote before you went in?"  She smirked.  "I didn't see you drug it.  What did you hit him with?"

"Tell me who you are really working for," Brehan said, "and I'll tell you."

She shook her head.  "I'm almost sorry I can't.  Well, this was fun.  Let's do it again sometime."  She waved cheerfully before stepping into the shadows and vanishing.

"You know she took the documents, right?" Leliana said.

"She took the documents that were in my belt pouch, yes."  Brehan shrugged.  He walked over to where the wolf was sleeping on a pillow, reached beneath, and pulled out the actual documents.  Vir'ghilani raised his head, and gave a bored yawn.

Leliana giggled.  "So what did you hit him with?  I thought you didn't like poison."

"I said poison and antidotes get too confusing.  So I didn't use either."

She blinked.  "But..."

"I'm a Warden, ma'arlath.  It has some advantages."

"You... you gave him the Blight..."  She shook her head.  "You gave him the Blight."

Chapter Text

She'd just finished delivering her warning to the Champion when his mage companion spoke up.  "And what would the Warden Commander think of mages being enslaved?"

So it was him after all.  She would have to let Saitada know.  Saitada believed the circle was necessary.  And then it occurred to her...  "You are referring to Warden Commander Jerath?"

"He believes mages should be free."

He had, actually.  If rumor was to be believed, he'd killed a dozen templars and defied a grand cleric to protect the man standing in front of her.  A man who'd then abandoned her friend.  "I see the news has not reached you.  Jerath is gone."

The man's face looked stricken.  She believed the expression to be genuine.  "Gone?  What happened?  How did he die?"

"I did not say he was dead.  Only that he was gone.   Warden Commander Jerath paid a visit to Ferelden's Circle three years ago.  He has not been seen or heard from since."

Anders stared at her.  "You cannot believe mages were responsible."

She wished it was a possibility she could rule out.  But the Warden had, after all, been templar trained, and the Resolutionists were not known for being rational.  Perhaps it was best Brehan had not accompanied her on this trip. 

#

Cassandra brought her shield to bear, blocking the oncoming arrow.  Behind her, Leliana shot back.  The archers raised their bows, and then Brehan was behind them.  She almost laughed as he simply swung that great hammer of his and knocked half the archers off the ledge.  She moved foward, taking the head off a hurlock as Leliana kept up a steady stream of arrows.  Brehan finished off the rest of the archers, then leaped down, swinging the maul as he did so.  The emissary's head didn't so much break as shatter under the force of the blow.

He wiped the hammer's head clean, and returned it to its place on his harness.  "That's all of them."

"Good.  I'm surprised we encountered this many."

"There are mines in the area," Leliana said.  "They may have come up through one of those."

"I'm afraid you two must continue on by yourselves."  He sighed.  "I'll find where they came from, and report in to the Wardens."

"Be careful, Vhenan."

"Dareth shiral, ma'arlath."  He hesitated a moment, then signaled the wolf.  "Vir'ghilani.  Cassandra garas."  He looked up at Cassandra.  "Mind?  I'd rather not take him into the Deep Roads."

Cassandra rubbed the wolf's head affectionately.  "Not at all."

#

"How badly is this going to come down on the wardens?" Alistair asked.

Saitada sighed.  "Officially, it won't.  We can thank Brehan for that.  Six years of running errands for the Divine has given him some sway.  And Anders has had no official involvement with the wardens since he left Vigil's Keep."

"Why didn't Jerath go after the man?"

"What's concerning me is what if that is exactly what he did?"

Alistair blinked.  "You think perhaps this Anders could be why Jerath disappeared?"

"He disappeared only a scant few days after receiving the report from the Vinmark Mountains, a situation that also involved Anders."  Saitada ran a hand through her hair.  "He recalled me the very day Carver Hawke arrived back at the Keep.  And he sent Carver Hawke back to the Free Marches, along with Nathaniel Howe."

"And Loghain to Orlais."

"Nathaniel and Carver were in Kirkwall when it happened."

"What?"  Alistair shook his head.  "What were they doing there?"

"Carver is the Champion's brother.  And the Champion apparently helped them both out of jam in the Deep Roads shortly before the events occurred."

"Recall them."

"I don't have the authority to do that.  Nathaniel is a Warden-Constable, in the Free Marches.  And Carver is under his command.  Neither of them is obligated to answer to me unless they are actually in Ferelden."

Alistair leaned back in his chair.  "I was there.  I recognized him.  I should have done something."

"Don't blame yourself, Alistair.  There was nothing you could have done."  She shook her head.  "There may be some glances at the Wardens, but ultimately, I fear this is going to come down on the mages, just as it almost did in Kirkwall."

#

"How many?" Lenore asked.

Lily looked up at her through tearstained eyes.  "Four."

Lenore slowly sank into her chair.  "But... but there were over two hundred mages and apprentices and..."

"Seventeen senior enchanters.  Ninety-five mages.  One hundred and six apprentices.  Eighteen tranquil."  Lily stared at the floor.  "We saved four."  She shook her head.  "Maybe if we'd had more warning, but..."

"But who would have expected it to be Rivain?"  Lenore moved to sit next to the other woman, putting an arm around her.  "Dairsmuid is barely a circle."

"They found some of the female mages training in the tradition of the seers.  The templars demanded they all immediately be made tranquil or executed, and First Enchanter Rivella... she tried to fight for them."

"And they invoked the Right."

"What kind of monster puts children to the sword?" Lily's voice broke.

Lenore's hands clenched into fists.  "Templars."

#

"That new scout you recommended is a little... odd," Cassandra said.  "Are you sure he's... well... sane?"

"Well, he did spend seven years as a werewolf," Brehan replied.

"You are having me on."

"I'm actually not.  It was back during the Blight.  We cured him."  He turned to look at her.  "I trust him, Cassandra.  And he's easily one of the best trackers I've ever met."

"I will take your word for it.  Tell me, what do you think of this idea, bringing back the Inquisition?"

He considered the question.  "I think that it is a very big idea, and worth considering.  I also think it may be a very dangerous idea.  But I will do what I can."

"We will need soldiers.  Men and women of faith."

"Pick me out some recruits.  I'll see if I can't turn them into scouts."

#

He waited in the tree.  It was nearly a half hour before the first of the scouts entered the clearing.  He wasn't surprised to note that it was Charter.  She started up the false trail he'd left, but stopped after a few steps.  She walked backwards.  He nearly sighed as her boots scuffed the moss.  The others wouldn't need to follow him, they could merely follow her.

Two others entered the clearing a minute later.  She pointed out the trail.  He waited as they spoke, arguing over when they lost the trail.  Then he held an acorn out, and dropped it on Charter's head.  She winced, and gave only the barest glance upwards before going back to the argument. 

He sighed.  Then he landed behind the young human man, holding a wooden stick to his throat in place of the knife.  "Congratulations.  You found me."  They had the good graces to look embarrassed.  "What did you forget?"

"That you're a sneaky bastard, ser."  Charter sighed.  "And to look up."

He shifted his grip on the human to a headlock, and mussed his hair.  "Butcher here is my prisoner now.  You two will wait here one hour, then come to his rescue.  If you don't find him before sundown, Polecat gets to pick out your clothes this week."  He glanced down at his prisoner.  "And Butcher?"

"Yes ser?"

"If I catch you leaving them signs, I'm confiscating those cookies your mother sent.  And eating them."

"You are a cruel man, ser."

#

Josephine smiled as she saw Brehan catch Leliana's hand.  He spun her, eliciting a laugh, then moved into the steps of a formal dance.  He grinned when he saw her watching, and gave her a completely unembarrassed wink before dipping Leliana into a kiss. 

"Did you need something, Josie?"  he asked when he stood Leliana back up.

"You had mentioned something about..."

"Oh, right, the Cumberland contacts."  He nodded, and headed down the stairs.

Leliana watched him go, a smile playing on her lips.  Josephine shook her head fondly. 

#

"You need a general," Brehan said.

"Isn't that why we have you?" Cassandra asked.

Brehan gave her a look that suggested she'd been repeatedly dropped on her head.  "I can lead a band of scouts.  However..."

Cassandra sighed, and nodded.  "However, what we are building here is more akin to an army.  I spoke with Ser Alec, and he declined the honor."

"No, Alec won't leave Amaranthine short of another Blight.  The only other two generals I know are Saitada and Loghain, and neither will work.  For obvious reasons."

Leliana leaned back in her chair.  "Perhaps a chevalier?"

"But which chevalier?  I can count the number of chevaliers I'd trust with this on one hand, and none of those are available," Brehan said.

"Josephine has agreed to join us," Leliana said.  "Perhaps she knows someone."

Brehan smiled warmly, then twisted his features into mock concern.  "Josephine is coming along?  This Inquisition is going to end in my underpants nailed to the Chantry board."

"Again."  Cassandra shook her head.

"At least mine aren't..."

"Elf."  Cassandra narrowed her eyes.  "I. Will. End. You."

A sigh came from Leliana.  "Someday, one of you is going to tell me this story."  She shook her head at both of them.

"No."  Cassandra folded her arms and glared.

"Ir abelas, ma'arlath.  Ir sahlin harel ma."

"You are not afraid of Cassandra."  Leliana shook her head.  "You just like knowing something I don't."

"Well, yes."  Brehan smiled at her.

#

"By the Dread Wolf..."  Fenarel just stood there staring, his mouth slightly agape.  "Brehan?"

"Aneth ara, lethallin."

"How... what?"

"My duties brought me through the Free Marches.  I... heard..."

"Perhaps you should sit down, brother.  I have much to tell you."

#

"Knight-Captain."

"Seeker Cassandra."

Leliana watched quietly as the acting knight-commander of Kirkwall called instructions to his men.  Given recent events, she was somewhat surprised to see him ordering the mages taken alive, and treated well.  Cassandra began talking to him, most likely questioning him on what had happened.

Brehan elbowed her.  She glanced over to him.  "What about him?"

"What do you mean, what about him?"

He shook his head and laughed softly.  "Half the circles are all but actively on fire, and yet here, where it actually began, there is stability."

"You mean recruit Knight-Captain Cullen?"  Leliana considered a moment.  "I'll mention it to Cassandra.  How did your trip go?"

"I do not wish to speak of it."

Chapter Text

Brosca didn't recognize the man in warden armor, but he was definitely a warden.  He didn't recognize the other man, either, or the elf.  But he did know the woman.  "Isabela."

"Brosca.  I need a favor."

Brosca started to nod, then recalled where, exactly, Isabela had been the last few years.  And who she'd been with.  "Hawke, I presume?"

The tattooed elf almost immediately went on alert.  The Champion, however, merely nodded.  "Isabela says you are one of the few people she trusts."

"And Zev says you and yours helped him out of a jam.  What can I do for you?"

"It... seems we need to get out of the Free Marches."

"Fortunately, Antiva is beautiful this time of year."

#

Cassandra ran her hand through the wolf's fur.  She swallowed against the grief as she looked across at Brehan.  "I'm sorry, I..."

Brehan shook his head.  "Don't blame yourself, lethallin."  He caressed Vir'ghilani's head before removing his cloak to cover the wolf's still form. 

"He saved my life."  Cassandra nodded.  "He didn't..."  She shook her head.  "I didn't signal him, he just..."  She blinked tears back out of her eyes.

"I know."  Sorrow was visible on Brehan's face. 

#

She felt something at the edge of her senses, but Alistair was supposed to still be in Amaranthine.  Maybe he was back early.  She headed in that direction, and then smiled.  "Lenore.  Nobody told me you were coming."

The mage hugged her.  "That's because this isn't an official visit.  And... it really can't be.  Nobody knows I'm here, not even Brosca and Zevran."

Cathiel blinked, and frowned in concern.  "Is there trouble?"

"No..." Lenore sighed.  "Can we speak someplace more secure?"

She nodded, and led her friend into the royal quarters.  "So what's the problem?"

Lenore shook her head.  "It's not a problem, Cathiel.  It's... something more akin to a solution."  She removed a parcel from her satchel, and set it on Cathiel's nightstand.  "I... I think I've worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"You and Alistair are Wardens, but you are the King and Queen.  When..."  Lenore shook her head.  "When you die, the line of succession will most likely fall to Goldanna's eldest boy.  And... and I don't think Ferelden is going to accept that."

Cathiel sat down on the bed.  The same thought had run through her head a dozen times.  "We've thought about fostering a child, adopting..."

"I... I have another solution."  Lenore indicated the parcel.  "I think... I think I can help you have a child."

"What?"

"It's experimental.  I can't promise it will work.  To be honest, I'm not entirely sure I won't be shaving a couple years off your life by trying this.  But... but I think I can give you a really good chance at..."

Cathiel cut the mage off with a tight hug.  "Oh Lenore..." 

The two women stood there for a long moment as Cathiel cried on Lenore's shoulder.  Finally, she stepped back.  "How did you come by this?"

Lenore smiled.  "Actually... it was Jerath, a long time ago.  He found some notes at Soldier's Peak and sent them to me.  I've been going over them and some other things, trying to figure out the calling.  I haven't had much luck there, but... but this.  I've been working on it for a year now.  It should work.  I really do think it will work."

"What do I have to do?" Cathiel asked.

#

Lenore unwrapped the note from the raven's leg.  The hand was familiar, and the words brought tears to her eyes.  There were only two.  "It worked."  She laughed, and went to share the news with her husbands.

#

"Can you find me someone?"

"You need someone you can trust to sneak you into a Crow stronghold.  But for some reason, it can't be me."

"It can't be a Warden, Brosca.  If this goes wrong, it can't come back on the Wardens."

"Dammit, Alistair, you're the sodding king of Ferelden.  And beyond that, you're my friend.  Does Cathiel even know you are doing this?"  Brosca's eyes widened.  "Stone, she doesn't, does she?  She's going to kill you."  He shook his head.  "And Lenore is going to kill me for making Cathiel kill you."

"Yet another reason why this needs to stay a secret."  Alistair ran a hand through his hair.  "Can you help me or not?"

"Can you at least tell me why?"

"My father might be alive."  Alistair said.  "And I'm asking you as a friend.  Help me."

Brosca paced back and forth.  Then he sighed.  "Sod it.  Yeah.  I know somebody you can trust.  And as it happens, they owe me one hell of a favor."

#

Alistair sat down heavily.  "You are certain?"

Shale nodded.  "Yes."

Cathiel wiped tears from her eyes.  "Wynne.  I can't believe she's..."

"What happened exactly?" Alistair asked.

Shale made a sound as if she were taking a deep breath, and told them of what had happened at the meeting of the mages.  Alistair stood, and paced back and forth during the tale.  Cathiel had her hands folded over her pregnant belly protectively.

Alistair sighed when Shale finished speaking.  "There will be more refugees heading to the tower."

"Alistair..."

"Wynne died for them, Cathiel."

"I know, my love.  I was going to say that the tower isn't going to be able to hold so many, and the templars are still beholden to the Chantry."

He nodded.  "Redcliff.  It's not far from the Circle.  I'll talk to Teagan.  Send a raven to Lenore.  She'll know how to get word out."

#

Tears welled in her eyes when she saw the cradle.  Tears came entirely too easy these days.  It was a work of art, carved with images of griffins in flight.  "Oh, Nesiara, it's beautiful."  She hugged the woman.

"I'm pleased you like it."

"I love it."  She ran her fingers over the fine-grained wood.  "Oh, and look, there's Alistair and I."  Two rampant griffins framed the thrones carved into the headboard.

"The little one is going to have quite the example to live up to.  Have you thought of names yet?"

"Wynne if a girl, Duncan if a boy."  She'd considered her parent's names, but even after nine years, that scar hurt too badly.  It was hard enough realizing that her mother wouldn't get to see more grandkids.  Wynne hurt too, but she'd known that was coming.  Fitting, in a way, that the woman had died fighting the good fight.  Wynne hadn't been meant to die in her sleep.

"Which are you hoping for?"

Cathiel sighed.  "I'm just hoping for healthy.  How are your scamps?"  The girl had been born only seven months after the wedding, setting a few tongues wagging.  The boy had come along two years later.  She wished Cyrion was still with them.  He'd enjoyed being an honorary grandfather. 

"Sallah has changed her life ambition from Queen of Ferelden to Empress of Antiva, and Jerath has been slaying dragons with that toy sword your husband gave him."  Nesiara shook her head.  "Do remind him that as soon as he has his own little one, Rory is going to retaliate."

"Maker.  Is it too late to exile you all to Rivain?"  Cathiel laughed.

Chapter Text

She slipped into the attic, and went for her cache.  A voice stopped her in her tracks.

"You're a hard woman to find."

Briala turned to see another elf.  He wore a raven mask.  She swore she'd seen the mask before.  "For good reason," she replied.

"I've brought you a gift," he said.

"Oh?"

"The Canticles of Shartan."  He gestured at a book sitting on a crate.  She could see several pieces of parchment tucked inside its pages.  "You may find it interesting reading."

"I know you."  She reached up, and took off her mask.

He did the same.  Her eyes widened when she saw the marks on his cheeks.  "You're Dalish."

"I'm many things."

"Who are..." And then she knew.  "You're a Warden."

"Good luck, Briala.  I wish I could be of more help, but I am afraid I cannot remain in Orlais."

She looked down at the book.  "Because you've given me this."

"That is one reason.  There are several more compelling."

"Wait..."  She shook her head.  "Your name, attached to our cause..."

"Would cause far more problems than it solved."  He shook his head.  "This battlefield is yours, lethallan."  He smiled.  "Among our people, there is a curse.  'Dirthara-ma'.  May you learn.  I think, Briala, that you have the makings of an excellent teacher."  He replaced his mask, and slipped out of the building as quietly as he'd come.

She opened the book and looked at the first piece of parchment.  Her eyes widened, and she smiled.

#

The raven mask was sitting on her desk.  She turned to see him standing, silently.  It had been years since she'd last seen his bare face.  The green lines over his cheekbones looked like stylized feathers.  He'd told her, once, what they represented.  She was ashamed to realize at this moment she could not recall."

She smiled.  "Brehan.  I was not expecting you.  Is there news?"

"Halamshiral burned."

"I know.  I'm sorry."

"Look at me, Dorothea."  He hadn't called her that in a long time.  She met his eyes.  "Tell me you played no part in this."

She hesitated.  Just a fraction of a heartbeat.  But he had known her too long, and Leliana had taught him well.  She might as well have hung out a banner.  "The Empire is in turmoil.  It is civil war."

"A necessary sacrifice, then?"

"Celene did not begin the violence, Brehan."

"How many times over the past few years have I killed for you, Dorothea?  Why is it no one has a problem with elves raising blades, unless they do so in their own defense?"

"You know how high the stakes are right now.  Mages and Templars are all but at war with each other.  Need I remind you it was a Warden that set this all in motion?"

"No, Dorothea.  This was in motion long before Kirkwall.  I came here with Leliana, but I have served you because, Mythal help me, I actually believed."  He shook his head.  "In you.  I sent some of my people to their deaths because I believed in the words you spoke.  And you could have ended this with words."

"Brehan..."

"I am going back to Ferelden."

"I need you here."

He shook his head, and his laughter was bitter.  "You think to give me an order, Most Holy?"  He took a step towards her.  "Tell me, when exactly did you forget?"

"Forget?"

"What I am."  Naked anger shown on his face.  "We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path.  We are the last of the Elvhenan."  His eyes met hers.  "And never again shall we submit."

"Brehan..."

"Dirthara-ma, harellan."

He was gone.  She touched the raven mask he'd left behind.

And then she sat down behind her desk and wept.

#

She saw him packing his rucksack.  "Justinia has a task for you?"  Leliana smiled brightly.  "Where are you going?"

"Back to Ferelden.  It's time I resumed my duties as a Warden."  He draped the blue cloak around his shoulders.

She froze.  "You are leaving."

"Yes."

"You are leaving me."

He rounded on her.  "Did you pass the order?"

"What?"

"To Celene.  Did you honestly think I wouldn't know?  After all these years, did you actually think you could condemn Halamshiral to fire and blade and I wouldn't find out about it?"

"I never thought Celene would..."

"Do not lie.  Not to me.  You knew exactly what she would do.  And Justinia could have stopped her."

"Vhenan..."

"Halam sahlin.  I won't hear my language from your mouth.  Not now."  He walked out of the house, a barefaced Dalish elf in Warden armor.  Every eye in the square turned towards him as he left her.

She felt Josephine's arms around her as she started to cry.

#

Justinia stared at the writ for a long moment, then looked up at her Right and Left Hands.  "We need more voices.  Voices that can stir, voices whom the players in this game will heed."  She sighed.  "I sent him a message."

"I have sent him two, Most Holy.  He... has not replied to either."

"He knows the players, knows the game.  And most of all, his is a voice that could bring others to us.  He could bring us the Wardens, and with them, Ferelden.  And sway no few mages."  She put a hand on the writ.  "Despite... I do not believe he will turn away from us in this.  Rumor holds that that the Champion's brother is a Grey Warden.  If this is true, then Brehan may be able to locate the Champion for us.  And that is a voice we need desperately."

Leliana nodded.  "Then we go to Amaranthine.  We can speak with Warden Commander Saitada, and she will know where to find him."

"Perhaps we can also gain her support.  The Hero of Ferelden is a Paragon of Orzammar, and hers is a powerful voice in many circles," Cassandra added.

"I will arrange a meeting.  Perhaps..."  Her eyes went to the map.  "The Temple of Sacred Ashes.  It will send a powerful message.  Go."

#

Zevran wrapped his arms around Lenore.  "Amor?"

"Leliana wants me to come to a conclave.  Speak out in favor of the mages returning to the towers.  She thinks they'll listen to me."

"Many would." 

She sighed, leaning into him.  "They would.  And that's the problem."  She shook her head. 

"Ah.  Because you would not speak the words Leliana wishes."

Lenore crumpled the parchment, tossed it into the air, and incinerated it with a thought.  "The Divine all but orders the execution of hundreds of elves, then asks for Brehan's help.  They annul a circle, and request I ask the mages to go crawling back into their cages.  Are they truly that arrogant, or are they merely daft?"

"Does that matter, Amor?"

Lenore met his lips, drawing comfort.  Then she sighed.  "Yes.  If they are daft, then there is some small hope for peace.  If it is the other..."

He narrowed his eyes.  "Will they be foolish enough to come for you?"

For a moment, the wolf was in her eyes again.  "Part of me wants them to try."

#

She dismounted in front of Vigil's Keep.  Though it had been some years since her last visit, she expected to see at least a few familiar faces on the walls.  The Vigil's guards were in evidence, but she saw no one wearing the armor of Amaranthine's Silver Order, nor of the knighthood.  It did not bode well.

Cassandra's seeker armor caused a stir among the guard.  The last she had known there was only one mage among the wardens here, a Dalish woman.  They had not recruited another since Anders.  A man wearing a captain's badge met them at the gate.  It was not Captain Garevel.  "Greetings, Seeker."

"I am here to speak to the Warden-Commander."

He nodded.  "I will take you to him."  Him?  She saw Cassandra glance back at her before following the man. 

She didn't know the man who sat at the desk.  He rose, then bowed.  His accent marked him as from the Anderfels.  "To what do I owe this honor?"

"We expected to find Warden-Commander Saitada."

His face became a mask of sorrow.  "Then... you had not heard?"

A chill went down her spine.  "Heard?"

He leaned on the desk.  "A week previous, Warden Commander Saitada took a force into the Deep Roads to deal with a matter.  I'm afraid that there was a tunnel collapse.  Only one made it back."

"Who did she take with her?" Cassandra asked.  Leliana's own voice froze in her throat.

"I fear we lost some of our best," he said.  He ran a hand through his hair tiredly.  "In addition to Warden Commander Saitada Aeducan, we lost Senior Wardens Oghren, Sigrun, Padrig, and Velanna, in addition to Warden-Constable Brehan, and a dozen of the Silver Order."

#

She sat at the tavern, staring at a drink.  She wasn't entirely certain how she'd gotten there.  Cassandra slid into the seat across from her.  "No." She looked down at her hands.  "No."

"I... spoke to the survivor.  He said there was an earthquake."

"Random chance.  I... I cannot believe.  Not like that.  Not... after everything.  We... The Maker wouldn't take him from me like that."

"Leliana."

"He can't be gone.  I... he can't...  I... I need to tell him I'm sorry, that... he can't."

Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder.  "I..."  She swallowed.  "Maker, I cannot believe it either."

She stood.  "We must go to Kirkwall."

Cassandra sighed, then nodded.  "To Kirkwall, then."

Chapter Text

Brosca raised an eyebrow at Zevran.  "So... we accidentally assassinated Leliana's assassins."

"Yes.  And now she needs us to assassinate another assassin, so she can track down the assassin that assassinated her first assassin who she'd sent to assassinate the assassin that had killed the retired assassin.  And assassinate him."

"And I thought it was complicated when it was just politics."  Brosca shook his head.  "But no, she had to go and bring religion into it.  Sodding Inquisition."

#

"The Queen?"

"This way, your majesty."

Alistair glanced over his shoulder at Teagan and Cullen before following the elf out of the room.  He kept his hand on his sword.  The elf led him to one of the bedrooms, and he looked inside to see all three wardens laid on the bed.  "Are they?"

"Asleep."

Something about the elf's voice nagged at him.  And he was sensing... He shook his head.  "Drugged?"

"In the fade."

"In the..." Something clicked, and Alistair whirled, grabbing the elf by the shoulder and slamming him into the wall.  He pulled the hood from the elf's head.  "You."

Jerath nodded.  "Me."

"You... where the... what... how..." He released the elf and punched the wall.  "You... left.  No word.  Nothing.  Just gone.  We, we thought you were dead.  Maker's breath, did you see what was in the sky?!  What happened to the wardens?!"  He shook his head.  "We needed you!"

The elf nodded slowly, then sank to one knee.  "The moment I could aid, my king, I came."

Alistair closed his eyes, then nodded.  "Yes.  You did.  What happens now?"

"They should awake free of Venatori control.  I do not know if they will remember the events of tonight."

Alistair nodded.  "Will this work on other wardens?"

"The satchel contains what is needed to duplicate the process.  The Inquisition has a mage with experience in the fade.  The rest... everything I've managed to uncover about the Venatori is in there."

Alistair picked up the satchel, then walked over to where the elf knelt.  "You're alive.  Cathiel is going to kill you."

"The thought... crossed my mind," Jerath replied.  "It would... be best if no one knew."

"Why..."  Alistair started to ask, then turned his head at the sound of footsteps.  He grabbed Jerath's hood and pulled it roughly back over the elf's features.  He shook his head, then pulled the elf up into an embrace.  "I'll handle this," he whispered before releasing the other man.  "Go."

The king turned to where Teagan and Cullen were entering the room.  "Your majesty," Teagan said.  "This man is not one of the inquisition's soldiers."

"Of course he isn't," Alistair said.  "What, you don't think I have agents?"  He forced his tone to be light, but stepped forward to block Cullen's path as the Inquistion's commander started to walk towards the elf.  Jerath slipped into the hallway, and was gone.  He hid a sigh of relief by saying, "Commander, I believe your inquisition forces are at the gate."  Cullen started to press forward, and Alistair directed his attention at the wardens on the bed. "They are unconscious.  They will awake free of Corypheus's control."

"With all due respect, your majesty..." Cullen said. 

"Redcliff currently does not have a mage," Alistair spoke over Cullen, injecting a note of command into his voice.  "If it is not too much trouble, I would like to request the services of one of your mages." His gaze softened as he looked at Cathiel.  "They are currently trapped in the fade.  A mage could greatly increase the likelihood of their survival."  He glanced down at a satchel in his hands.  "And it seems I have information your Inquisition may find useful."

He looked over at Teagan as he heard the voices coming their way.  "Uncle, would you be so kind as to direct the Inquisitions people this way?"

"I should..." Cullen started to say as Ruya entered, followed by some of her people.

Alistair shook his head and put a hand on the man's arm.  "You should sit down before you fall down, Commander."  He smiled gently, then turned his attention to the newcomers.  "Lady Inquisitor Trevalyan," he said, giving her a respectful incline of his head.  "My son?" he asked.

"With Ambassador Josephine," Ruya responded.  "I sent a runner to tell her the castle is secured."  She looked around.  "A pleasure to meet you, your majesty.  I wish the circumstances were less..."

"Normal?"  He said, smiling.  "You have a mage with you?  One knowledgeable about the fade?"

Ruya blinked, then gestured to Solas.  Solas raised an eyebrow at the king.  Alistair nodded to him, then gestured at the room behind him.  "The wardens are in there.  They are currently in the fade, in an attempt to free them from Venatori control.  Could you be of assistance?"

Solas gave the king a surprised look, then glanced at Ruya before nodding.  "I believe I can."

Alistair nodded, then began filling Ruya in on the events of the evening.

#

Alistair felt a slight ping to his senses as he stood on the ramparts, and chuckled.  "You are lucky Brehan has already left."

"I saw the Inquisition forces leave," Jerath responded.  "Thank you."

"I... should definitely be the one thanking you," Alistair responded.  "They are okay.  He... that magister, the one you killed... he used Cathiel and Saitada as shields.  Dared me to come through them.  She... he could have ordered her to kill me.  And then you..."  he shook his head.  "You kept Duncan safe.  You gave Cathiel back to me.  You protected Ferelden."  He smiled, then added as an afterthought, "pretty sure you saved my life a couple times tonight also."

"I had a spare moment or two," Jerath replied.

"Jerath..."

"I can't answer your questions, Alistair.  You have no idea how much I wish I could.  Please... don't make me lie to you."

Alistair sighed, and nodded.  "I..."  he closed his eyes.  "I told them you were my agent, that you'd been gathering information for me."  He chuckled.  "I think they actually bought that."

"It's... more believable than you think.  The throne suits you."

"I will chuck you off the top of this tower," Alistair threatened with a smile.  Slowly, the smile faded from his face.  "You're alive.  I should be holding a banquet, or a parade, or something."  He sighed.  "The Inquisitor's eyes when she saw that satchel... you've apparently been busy.  How can I help?  Do you need supplies?  Gold?  An army?"

"Silence, your majesty," Jerath responded.  "And the tale you've already spun.  Your agent... that should suffice as cover if I must make contact with the Inquisition again."

"Well, just let me know what lies you need me to confirm.  It will be more believable if I know what they are going to be asking about."  He sighed.  "Sure you don't want a parade?  It would be in your honor," he teased.

"I hate parades.  Especially when they are in my honor."

Alistair chuckled, then his smile faded again.  "Last time we..." he sighed.  "I'm sorry, about your father."

"You gave him a royal procession," Jerath said softly.

"It... seemed the least he deserved.  The Tabris clan has given Ferelden some of it's best.  Shianni..." he chuckled. "I've thought about sicing her on Orlais a few times.  She got married, did you know?"

"Yes.  I arranged for a gift to be sent."

Alistair blinked, then laughed softly.  "That puzzle box nobody could figure out where..." he laughed again.  "Those Gray Warden handpuppets?"

"I thought you'd like those."

"Where they for me or Duncan?"  Alistair smiled.  "Don't answer that.  I'm glad you aren't dead."  He leaned his elbow against the ramparts, and gave the elf an appraising look.  "If I hadn't seen you fight... then the fade... I might not have recognized you at all, even without the hood.  You've... I don't think even Brosca would call you kid anymore."

Jerath rolled his eyes.  "You've held the throne ten years now.  Tell me Saitada wasn't ordering you around while she was here."

Alistair chuckled.  "At least she didn't do it in front of everyone."  He sighed.  "She's going to kill you, you know.  Then me.  Then you again.  Maker... Cathiel is going to kill us."

"You are Alistair.  Gray Warden.  King of Ferelden.  You laugh in the face of danger."

"That's against darkspawn and dragons."  He shook his head.  "This," he drew out the words, "is Cathiel and Saitada."

"I'm not worried."

"You aren't?"  Alistair said.

"I can outrun you."

Alistair laughed, then hugged the man tightly.  "I've missed you."

"I'm sorry.  Now let go of me."

Alistair held him a moment longer, pulling him off his feet before finally releasing him.  "Whatever you are doing..." he sighed.  "Don't... don't just vanish again."

Jerath sighed.  "Duncan is a cute kid."

"Takes after his father."

"Alistair... think for a moment what you would do to protect your son."

Alistair nodded.  "I... there isn't much I wouldn't do."

"I'm protecting mine."

"I..." Alistair nodded.  "Morrigan?"

Jerath nodded.  "If... if a boy comes to you, and says his name is Kieran..."

"I will do everything in my power to keep him safe.  As myself, as a warden, as king of Ferelden."  Alistair's voice softened.  "As your friend.  I swear it."

"Thank you.  I should go, before Cathiel comes looking for you."

"I..."

"I will see you again, Alistair."

#

Cathiel set down the book, and gently rearranged the covers on her son before looking over at the other children.  Sallah was asleep, but Jerath was still awake.  He had his wooden sword tucked in next to him.  She reached over, and ruffled his ginger hair.  "Sleepy time, little knight."

He shook his head at her.  "Daddy's not back yet.  I've gotta stand guard."

"Ser Kylon's on the wall tonight."

Jerath stuck out his lower lip stubbornly, and for a moment looked exactly like his father.  "Protectin the prince is my 'sponsibility."

She kissed his forehead.  "Alright.  But I'm going to put the light out, okay?"

"Kay."

She blew out the candles, leaving only the glowing stone, and closed the door behind her.  She was halfway down the hall when she saw Nesiara coming her way.  "I put them to bed already."

Her steward smiled.  "My apologies, Your Majesty.  I was caught up talking with the Inquisition's agent.  One of the newly hired servants is Venatori.  They are taking him in for questioning."

"They are welcome to him, and good riddance."  There was a blank spot in her memory of several hours.  Several hours of her son and husband being in mortal danger.  "Your son is taking his guard duties very seriously."

Nesiara walked with her towards the library.  "He's been pestering Rory for a real sword."

"I promised him an archery lesson if he stops tormenting his tutors."

"I've prepared the rooms.  The ship should be in tomorrow."

"Thank you, Nesiara."

#

Alistair smiled as Lenore planted a kiss on his cheek, then growled when Zevran did the same thing.  "I hate them," he said to the dwarf that followed them in.

Brosca grinned.  "Bend down.  My turn."

"I hate you too."  But he bent, and let the dwarf plant a kiss on his cheek.

Cathiel just laughed.  "It's so good to see all of you."  She hugged Lenore.

Lenore hugged her back tightly.  "First things first."

"Right."  Cathiel grabbed her hand and led her off to the nursery.

"How is the tyke?" Brosca asked.

"Almost talking."  Alistair smiled proudly.  "I hear you're an uncle again."

"Girl this time."  Brosca and Zevran sat down across from Alistair.  "Rica's proud as can be."  He glanced at Zevran, then back at Alistair.  "How bad?"

"Brehan had a knife to Teagan's throat.  Cathiel had an arrow pointed at my face."  Alistair clenched his fists.  "That..."  He gritted his teeth.  "They were going to use Duncan to make me agree to possession."

"They got dead, yes?"  Zevran asked, his eyes angry.

"Yes."  He ran his hands through his hair.  "They got dead."  He wanted to give them the news.  Tell them just who had actually saved him.  But he'd promised, and he owed the man far too much to go back on his word.  "The Inquisition has people at Vigil's Keep, and here.  With this ritual..."  He sighed.  "We should be able to keep what few Wardens remain safe."

Zevran and Brosca exchanged a look.  "Yeah, we were thinking about that.  Reckon maybe havin a Warden court mage might not be the best."

Alistair blinked.  "Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of mages I'm all that inclined to trust at the moment.  I gave the lot of them shelter, and they promptly tried to feed themselves to Tevinter."

"The thought occurred to us," Zevran said.  "You need someone smart, powerful, overprotective, and loyal.  Someone like our own dear Lenore, just not a Warden, yes?"

"Happens we've got someone might suit."

"Alright."  Alistair nodded.  "Who do you have in mind?"

#

Alistair gave the man a small bow.  "A pleasure to see you again, Champion."

Hawke returned the bow.  "All things considered, I'm not sure I should still be using that title."

"Call him Hawke," Brosca said with a shrug.  "Everyone else does."  Brosca leaned back in the chair.  "Whatcha think, yer highness?  He's the next best thing to Fireball herself, and he comes with his own bodyguard."  Brosca jerked a thumb at the elven man standing a few feet behind Hawke.

"King Alistair, this is my husband Fenris."  Hawke nodded at the man.

"Good to meet you."  Alistair held out a hand, and the other man shook it.  "I trust Brosca's recommendations wholeheartedly, and I'm aware of your reputations.  I'd be a fool not to accept.  Our steward, Nesiara, can see to your accommodations.  You have children, yes?"

"Two.  Salla and Caleb.  And our girl, Orana."

"Talk to Nesiara, she'll get you all settled in.  Welcome back to Ferelden."

"Thank you, your majesty."

#

Cathiel smiled as she watched an attentive Sallah and Jerath listen to Caleb play the flute.  There had been a few minutes of name confusion between Sallah and Salla.  Brosca had solved the problem by dubbing the older girl Birdie and the younger Princess. 

In addition to a court mage and bodyguard, they'd also apparently acquired a couple minstrels.  Caleb had been awestruck by the library, and the lad had actually teared up when Alistair had told him he was welcome to visit it anytime.  He eagerly read to and played for the other children, and Orana had quickly made herself useful in the nursery as well.  Salla, or Birdie, spent most of her time with her father, functioning as his apprentice.

She felt another Warden coming up behind her, and turned to see Lenore.  Lenore was smiling at the children.  "Sweet kids, aren't they?"

"You aren't going to try for any of your own?"  Cathiel raised an eyebrow.

"I've got a dozen," Lenore replied.  "We are relocating the little tower to House Brosca's holdings in Kal'Hirol.  Technically, its a dwarven holding, not a Ferelden one."  She looked at the kids, then back at Cathiel.  "How are you holding up?"

"I can't remember what happened."  She sighed.  "I'm not sure if that's more frightening or less."  She leaned into Lenore, and Lenore put a comforting arm around her.  "Thank you for bringing Hawke.  Considering his reputation, anyone would think twice before trying to come through him."

"Who better to guard my favorite king and queen than my favorite cousin?"

They watched Caleb trying to show Sallah how to play the flute.  Cathiel wrapped her arm around Lenore's waist.  "Cullen is the leader of the Inquisition's military."

"Hawke told me.  They were friends in Kirkwall.  Glad to hear he's doing well."  Lenore sighed.  "Hawke told me about Loghain.  Hell of a thing."

"You can say that again."

"Brosca, Zev, and I will head out to Skyhold soon.  I imagine Brehan and I are going to have some notes to compare.  We'll be back though."

"Lenore..."

"Yes?"

"Brehan said he asked if Hawke had contacted you or if you'd seen him, and you told him no."

"The Warden Constable had no business asking, and the Divine's hands can bite me."

Cathiel laughed.  "Lenore Amell, I have missed you."

#

Iron Bull, Varric, and Dorian were playing cards in the front room.  They'd let him pass, but they'd notice.  Ask questions.  Neither suited him.  From the attic window he could reach an eave, and he pulled himself up to the roof.  A running start and a leap took him to the next roof, then the next.  A handy tree branch got him to the ground, and he landed lightly. 

Cassandra had left the raven mask in his room.  He hadn't been surprised to find the woman had kept it.  He put it on, then drew up the hood of his cloak.  Silently, Brehan moved through the darkness into the slums.

#

"Word from Ferelden said you were dead."

He turned at the sound of the woman's voice.  "I got better."

"Raven."

"Ambassador."

Briala smiled warmly, and kissed his cheek.  "I'm told the settlement actually threw a party when they heard you were alive."

"Keeper Lanaya so informed me."  Brehan returned the smile.  "I wish this were a social visit."

"Indeed.  The Inquisitor?"

"She's..."  He shrugged.  "Unexpected.  She wants to meet with you.  On your terms, but she's guaranteed safe passage if you wish to come to Inquisition holdings.  We'll be at the masquerade."

"At the side of Gaspard."  Briala's eyes narrowed.

"He had the invitation."  He folded his arms.  "Corypheus needs Orlais in chaos.  The last thing elves need is a return of the Imperium of old.  Give me the map."

"Celene wishes me to return to her side, to put my agents at her disposal once more.  Gaspard would make the same offer.  Your side?"

"She's a mage.  She knows what the inside of a cage looks like.  There are elves among her advisers, and not only myself.  She listens and heeds our council.  And she may just be the real thing."

"She banished your order."  Briala tilted her head at him.

"Regretfully, she had cause."  He leaned against the wall.  "She can do this, Briala."

After a moment, Briala nodded.  "What do you need from me?"

"Orlais requires stability.  Either Celene or Gaspard could give it that.  Who stands when the dust settles?"

Briala considered the question.  "Who will the Inquisitor decide?"

"She's a peacemaker.  A diplomat.  She would strive to bring them both to heel."

"That would be a disaster.  Once the greater threat is vanquished, they will turn on each other once more.  And our people will suffer."

"Then choose."

He watched her pace back and forth for several minutes.  Finally she sighed.  "Celene wants me at her side.  From there, I can guide her as I did before.  Can you sway the Inquisition against Gaspard?"

"I can."  He drummed his fingers against his arm.  "I'm going to need a knife."

#

A quick thrust up and through the heart.  The man died without making a sound.  He dumped the body by the fountain, making sure the crest on the dagger was visible. 

Brehan could see the bodies of the servants.  More casualties of the bloody game.  The cloak went into the bushes.  Switch the raven for the owl, and he was a completely different person.  He headed back into the party to inform Briala, and play his role for the Inquisitor.

#

Leliana saw the Inquisitor, Sera, Cassandra, and Solas go after the Grand Duchess.  Josephine was standing near the empress, and two men stood in front of them, blocking the oncoming venatori.  The taller of the two men caught the venatori's arm, and twisted it sharply to force the man to drop his blade.  A heartbeat later, he'd snapped the venatori warrior's neck and helped himself to the blade.  More venatori moved towards the empress, and then Cullen was there as well, sword in hand.

Otwin had shoved Josephine's sister and the empress's handmaidens into a corner and was currently employing a candlestick as a weapon.  And rather well.  On the other end of the ballroom, Iron Bull picked up a venatori agent and flung him over the railing onto the dance floor, where he lay unmoving.  Dorian stood at Iron Bull's back, using his magic to assist the big man.

She dodged an attack, and flung her knife into the eye of her attacker.  Two others came at her.  She was seeking a weapon when both men suddenly grabbed their throats and began choking and dying.  Leliana blinked, and looked up to see Morrigan.  The swamp witch gave her a nod before turning to go aid the empress's defenders.

Within only a few minutes, the Inquisition's forces had dealt with the Venatori.  Josephine was already talking to Celene, who was nodding in reply.  Vivienne was doing some healing, but it appeared four Inquisition soldiers and three of the guests had been killed in the attack.  Leliana hoped the Inquisitor was fairing well against whatever she faced.

#

"You know how to make a speech, Marquise."

Briala laughed.  "First Ferelden and now Orlais.  Elves becoming nobility."

"And the sun continues to rise."  Brehan smiled.  "I suggest you write Keeper Lanaya personally."

"I intend to.  And Bann Shianni as well."  She handed him a roll of parchment.  "As per our agreement, information on the eluvian network."  She nodded.  "When there is time to breath, I will give you a personal tour."

"Until then.  Anduril guide you, lethallan."

"Dareth shiral."

#

Alistair slipped out the passageway, hood covering his head.  In the light drizzle, nobody even looked twice.  He made his way through the city, and into the old Warden locker.  Casting out his senses revealed the other presence, and he walked over.

"Alistair." 

"Morrigan is at Skyhold."  He watched Jerath carefully.

"As is my son," Jerath replied quietly.

"Then you know."  Alistair nearly sagged with relief.  "Thank the Maker.  I wasn't really looking forward to having to be the one to break the news."  He sat down on one of the crates.  "You could have told us."

"You do recall who the boy's grandmother is?"

"Maker.  Flemeth."  Alistair sighed.  "Yes, I can see how that would be an issue.  So you and Morrigan...?"

Jerath laughed softly.  "My lady wife."

"Let me get this straight..."  Alistair took a breath.  "Not only did you up and disappear on us, but..."  He stared at the other man.  "You got married and had a child without letting Cathiel and Lenore fuss over you?"

"Now you see why I must stay in hiding."

"Jerath..."  Alistair sighed.  "You saved my son.  If yours ever needs anything..."

"I know, Alistair.  And thank you."

#

Cathiel greeted Saitada with a hug.  "Lenore and Brosca are meeting us in the study."

"Has the Inquisitor spoken to you yet about recalling Wardens from the Free Marches?"  Saitada fell into step beside her.

"Not yet.  It's on the list of things Brehan is going to discuss with her.  They've taken over one of House Brosca's holdings in the Marches for now." 

Saitada smiled at Brosca and Lenore as she entered.  "Stone, it's damn good to see you two."

"Almost like old times."  Brosca grinned, and put his feet up on the table.  "Shame Songbird had to head back up to Skyhold."

"Alistair will be along as soon as he's done talking to Ser Gilmore."

#

"Lenore, I've a question."

"No, I never tongued Leliana."  She grinned.  "Thought about it a few times though."

Hawke laughed.  Brehan just shook his head.  "What did you think of Solas?"

"He's fascinating.  Doesn't care much for Wardens though."

Brehan ran a hand through his hair.  "This may sound stupid, but do you think you've seen him before anywhere?"

"What do you mean?"  Lenore raised an eyebrow.

"First time I met him, I couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen him before.  You?"

Lenore tilted her head.  "He's an older, bald, keeper-type mage who knows a lot more than he lets on.  Didn't you beat the ever loving shit out of one of those once?"

Varric choked on his drink.  "What's that?"

"Zathrian?"  Brehan gave her an impatient look.  "No.  Not him."

"Wait, I got to hear this story."  Varric stared at Lenore.

"Songbird never told you about the time he beat up the progenitor of werewolves?"

"Lenore Constance Amell."

"You're going to want to sit down for this one."

"I hate you."

#

"What exactly have you told the Inquisitor about Wardens?"  Cathiel folded her arms and glared at Brehan.

Brehan sighed.  "Everything."

"Everything?"

"The Joining, how we kill archdemons, the Architect, the Calling, everything.  She needed to know, and she hasn't shared the information."

"Dammit, Brehan."  Alistair banged a fist on the table.  "You of all of us should know better."

"There is precident, Alistair.  Varel was brought into the Warden's confidence due to extenuating circumstances.  I think we can all agree these circumstances are very extenuating."  He sighed.  "Saitada told me to use my judgment, and I have."

"You trust her."  Cathiel raised an eyebrow.

"Yes.  I do."

Cathiel and Alistair exchanged a look.  Finally, Alistair nodded.  "Alright.  I'll tell Lenore she can hand over what she has."

"I'd like to meet with your agent.  Rowland.  He clearly has a source within the Venatori, and we need that information."

Alistair sighed.  "Next time I speak with him, I'll let him know.  No promises though, you wouldn't know about him at all if your own network hadn't sprung leaks."

"I suppose you have a point there."  Brehan sighed.  "Where did you acquire Rowland?"

"I met him during that mess Cathiel punches me for everytime I mention it and that I've been refusing to tell you about at all."

Brehan's eyes narrowed.  "Is he Crow or Qunari?"

"Neither, he works for me now."

"Alistair Constance Therin."  Cathiel tapped her foot impatiently.

He made a gesture of surrender.  "I'll introduce you next time you two are in the same vicinity."

#

"You lied to me."  Brehan folded his arms and stared at Lenore.

"Oh?"  Lenore smiled innocently.  "About what?"

"I distinctly remember asking you if Hawke had contacted you or if you had any clue regarding his whereabouts, and you told me no."

"Oh.  That."  Lenore waved a hand dismissively.

"Lenore Constance Amell." 

"Left hand of the Divine knocks on my door, says 'excuse me, know where your cousin is, we'd like to drag him in, question the shit out of him, and maybe make him tranquil', and you expect me to just hand him over?"

"I didn't say anything about making him tranquil."

"Right, cause you didn't spend half of the last six years trying to talk Alistair and Cathiel down from helping out the Ferelden Circle."

"I was trying to..."

She jabbed a finger into his chest.  "Damn right I hid him.  Who do you think smuggled the Kirkwall mages out of the Marches?  I'm supposed to just forget about what it was like in the Circle because they sent you to ask?  Sorry, Brehan, you might do it for Leliana but I like my elves a little less stick up the ass."  She jabbed him again.  "Hey, here is a thought.  Maybe if the fucking templars hadn't shoved Anders into a hole and left him there for a year, the Chantry would still be standing.  So yeah, I hid him.  And if anyone has a problem with that, they are welcome to bring it to me and I will set them on bloody fire.  We clear?"

Brehan sighed, and nodded.  "Crystal."

"Good."  She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.  "Nice seeing you again.  Don't be such a stranger."  She waved cheerfully before leaving the room. 

#

"Just tell me you two weren't responsible for his escape."  Brehan narrowed his eyes at the two mages.  For there being little actual family resemblance, it was amazing how much the two of them looked alike.

"The Inquisitor can attest that we were under the watchful eyes of herself and a Seeker."  Hawke smiled.

"Not to mention a half dozen Inquisition guards, another mage, an ex-templar, and several spies you personally trained."  Lenore folded her arms.

Brehan rolled his eyes, and followed Iron Bull into the cells.  He cast out his senses, sniffed the air, and stopped short.

"Something wrong, Songbird?"  Iron Bull raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Iron Bull immediately straightened, then put a hand on his axe.  "What?"

"It's not possible, but..."  He turned a slow circuit.  "I would bet gold that sometime within the past two days, Loghain was here."

"Grumpy old Warden that got left in the Fade Loghain?"

"That's the one."  He closed his eyes as he moved through the room, letting his senses guide him.  "Loghain came out of this cell, moved into the one that held Carver, then both went out the door."  He opened his eyes and followed the trail, Iron Bull and a half dozen Chargers at his heels.

They hadn't gone far when Dalish tilted her head to one side.  "You aren't actually looking for tracks."

"Don't need to."  Brehan followed the sense of Carver into the tunnels.

Iron Bull laughed.  "Hot damn, you really can smell them?"

"It's complicated, but that's close enough."  He stopped at a small alcove.  "Loghain's trail vanishes here.  Carver keeps going."  He pointed.  "Look around, anyone see anything?"

#

The trail nearly led them into a full circle before turning east. There was a note tacked to a tree.  "Heading into the swamp next, you might want to get better boots.  Mind the blightwolves."  Brehan crumbled the parchment and threw it.  "He's screwing with us." 

Potter crushed the parchment under the toe of his boot.  "Any idea why, ser?"

Brehan let out a string of curses in elvish, dwarven, and qunlat before shaking his head.  "Best guess?  Because he's a bloody bane of my existence Amell."

"Turn back?"

"Send a raven back to Skyhold.  That's the Inquisitor's decision."

#

"You owe me ten gold."  Hawke's voice was practically gleeful.

Lenore threw the coinpurse at him, then gave Brehan a disappointed headshake.  "How the hell did he get away from you?"

Brehan sighed.  "I got to the edge of the Blackmarsh and the trail simply vanished.  Like Loghain's had earlier."

"Except it couldn't have been Loghain, he's dead."  Lenore waved a hand.

"I'm telling you what I sensed."  He shook his head.  "The Inquisitor told me to head back here and see if you'd managed to find anything new."

"We need more than a few days."

He nodded, then glanced over at Hawke.  "Cassandra mentioned you knew a sominari, in Tevinter."

"I might."  Hawke raised an eyebrow.  "Why?"

"We could use information on an orb."  He described it.  "Corypheus got it from some ruins in the Korcari wild.  An elven mage, Varla, was using it to try to summon something."

"What?"

"Lenore?"

"An elven mage."

"Yes."  He raised an eyebrow.

"Named Varla?"

He blinked.  "You know her?"

"She's Jerath's sister."

Everything in Skyhunter's report ran through his head.  "Maker..."  He sat down slowly.  "She even said the Wardens had taken her brother."  What she'd been doing...  He started to shake his head.  No.  No.  No.

"No what?" 

He blinked at Lenore, surprised that he'd actually spoken aloud.  "The demon caught us all in the Fade.  All of us except Jerath."  He looked down at his hands.  "Maker, where does a fifteen year old elf learn to fight like that?"

"Brehan?"

"Varla.  In the Wild.  She was experimenting with..."  He swallowed.  "With putting demons into children.  She said she'd been successful once before, but the templars had taken her away..."  He looked up at Lenore.  "Her brother."

The wine glass slipped out of Lenore's hand and fell to the floor.

#

"That must be how he survived killing the archdemon."  Lenore paced back and forth.  "He was already possessed, so it didn't affect him.  And he knew it, that's why he went in."  She whirled.  "If he's possessed, then Corypheus couldn't have controlled him, right?"

"Anders was possessed."  Hawke gestured.  "Corypheus didn't have a lot of trouble controlling him."

"So far the only two Wardens we know of that weren't controlled by Corypheus and the Venatori are Alistair and Carver."  Brehan ran a hand through his hair.  "Both templars."

"Alistair trained Jerath, Jerath trained Carver."  Lenore began juggling a small ball of fire.  "So if it's the templar thing that makes the difference..."

"Corypheus controlled the mages by using demons."  Hawke folded his arms.

"But we don't know what was possessing Jerath."  Lenore added a second ball of fire.  "We do know that he was stable, a lot more than Anders was.  I mean, for crying out loud, Brehan.  You punched him in the face and he took it."

"Maker."  Brehan shook his head.  "That's why he didn't defend himself.  He must have been trying to keep it contained."

"In the Brecilian Forest, I asked him how he was controlling the urge not to kill all our friends."  Lenore shook her head.  "He said 'practice'.  I thought he was just being a smart ass."

Hawke leaned on the table.  "So that's the question then.  Did Jerath Tabris disappear because he was hunting Corypheus?"  He looked up.  "Or because he was an abomination?"

"And what does it mean if the answer is both?"  Lenore sent both balls of fire into the fireplace where they caused the logs to burst into flame. 

We saw him in the Fade.  Hawke, when you took Anders into the Fade, it was Justice in control.  It was obvious he was possessed.  Jerath was just Jerath."

Lenore sighed.  "He said Varla was taken to the circle when he was six.  Possessed that young?  It's possible Jerath was never 'just Jerath'."

Brehan sighed.  "So what do I tell the Inquisitor?"

"You don't have to tell her anything, Brehan."

"Lenore..."  Brehan sighed.  "We are dealing with something out of legend.  And..."  He shook his head.  "And the son of Jerath and Morrigan is at Skyhold right now."

"Oh.  Fuck."

"Where did Varla get the orb?"  Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Damn good question."  Brehan growled.  "Fen'Harel ma ghilana.  He didn't tell people he had a sister.  He didn't tell people he was possessed.  He didn't tell people he had a kid.  He didn't..."  He kicked a chair across the room.  "He never even bloody told us how Flemeth got us out of the tower, that she could turn into a Maker-cursed dragon."

"Oh hell."  Hawke shook his head.  "Flemeth.  That amulet.  She needed me to get it to Sundermount."

"Marethari."  Brehan closed his eyes. 

"Morrigan's mother.  It all comes back to Flemeth, doesn't it?"  Lenore shook her head.  "I bet the orb that caused all this trouble was hers in the first place."

"I have to tell the Inquisitor."

"Yeah."  Lenore's shoulders slumped.  "Somebody should."

#

He sensed a Warden behind him and turned.  "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jerath grinned.  "Situation changed.  Thought you might want fair warning before Leliana's ravens start arriving."

Alistair leaned on the wall.  "Do they know I knew?"

"Hence the fair warning."  Jerath gestured.  "Shall we?"

"Being alive was fun while it lasted."

#

"The Inquisition banished the Wardens."

"Better than them being Venatori slaves, Saitada."  Jerath stood his ground.  "I'd have done exactly the same thing in her place, and so would you."

Saitada growled.  "You could have warned us."

"I did.  The report clearly stated that Corypheus could control Wardens and that he might not be dead."

"You think a single piece of paper left on your desk was good enough?"  Saitada clenched her fists.  "And then you just take off in the middle of the night?"  She gestured.  "Seven years, Jerath.  Seven sodding years.  We looked for you everywhere and then we..."  She turned away and kicked a chair across the room.

"We set up a shrine," Cathiel's voice was quiet.  "Held a funeral."  She took a step forward and punched him.  "I wept for you, you son of a bitch.  Nesiara named her son for you, and all this time you were..."  She hit him again.  "You didn't come to your own father's fucking funeral."  She turned to Alistair.  "And you knew."

"He didn't know until Redcliffe."  Jerath's voice was quiet and firm.  "And I swore him to secrecy."

"He's not your fucking husband."

"Maker, Cathiel, he'd just saved your life.  I'd have given him the damn throne if he'd asked for it."  Alistair tried to put a hand on her arm, and she jerked away.

"Stone, Junior.  What you did was cold."  Brosca leaned on the table.  "Unforgivable cold."  He gestured.  "The whole damn world fell apart.  We lost Wynne.  Oghren."

"Skyhunter.  Orliv.  Emory.  Keenan.  Aura.  Padrig.  Zeph.  Landon.  Menara.  Lucile.  Tanin.  Faldin.  Gerth.  Xanda."  Jerath listed the names quietly.  "A hundred names, and more.  I would bring them all back had I the power.  But ashes do not become flesh.  I did what I had to do, to keep Ferelden safe.  To protect as many as I could from what stirred in the Void.  I would do it all again, and gladly."

Brosca shook his head.  "You..."  He growled.  "You had a sister.  You have a kid.  You --"

"Had a demon in my head for eleven years.  Lied to you about what happened in the Tower of Ishal.  Stole from the Circle Tower.  Helped an elven goddess wreck havoc.  Got married without inviting any of you."

Silence fell in the room.  Lenore pushed back her chair and stood.  She took a breath, and then threw herself at Jerath.  She wrapped her arms around him tightly.  He stood there a moment, and then put his arms around her as she started to weep.