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Chapter Text

Darkness pressed from all ends and silence reigned.  The silence was deafening and despair reigned.  She floated in the nothingness, clinging to hope and memories of joy to keep herself from going completely insane.

“Elisabeta!”  A voice called to her.

She knew that voice.  The voice was one of the most cherished in her memories.  How had he made it here, to this place where nothing existed?  She tried to call his name, but couldn’t.

Then warm arms wrapped around her.  “Elisabeta!”

“Alistair,” she finally managed.

She was pulled against him.  “Wake up, my love,” he commanded.  “You’re having a nightmare.”

Elisabeta slowly opened her eyes and saw the heavy curtains that surrounded her, no their, bed.  She had escaped the Abyss almost a year and a half before.  Six months ago, she had defeated the arch-darkspawn who thought himself a god and then married the man who held her heart.  Now, he held her tightly in his arms.  “Alistair,” she whispered.

He continued to hold her close.  “Were you having a nightmare?”

She turned to look at him, staying wrapped in his arms.  “I was back in the Abyss.  It was…”  She trailed off and shuddered.

He held her closer.  “You’re here with me, where I can keep you safe.”

She smiled at him and laid a hand on his cheek.  “Where we can keep each other safe.  You are my anchor and my heart.”

He leaned in and kissed her softly.  The kiss was becoming more heated, when they were interrupted by a soft cry.  The cry would soon become more vigorous if not heeded.  They both knew that.

Three months before, Elisabeta had given birth to a beautiful baby girl.  Andraste had asked Elisabeta to name the baby after her; so, the infant girl bore the name Andromeda Persephone Eleanor Cousland Theirin.  They usually just called her Andie.

“I went and got her last time,” Alistair yawned.

“I just had a nightmare,” Elisabeta pouted.  “I was back in the Abyss.  I need comforting.  Just bring her here and I’ll feed her, if she’s hungry.  If her clout just needs changed, though, you’re doing it.”

“Don’t we officially have a nurse or nanny for her?” Alistair crawled out of bed.

“Yes,” Elisabeta admitted.  “But neither of us will let her near our baby without someone watching her like a hawk.  You only hired her because the banns were all pressuring you to.”

“I’ve never had a nanny,” Alistair admitted.  “Maybe I thought I was missing out.  Did you?”

“I did,” Elisabeta confirmed.  “She became our cook after I could fend for myself.  She… died when Howe attacked our castle.”

Alistair just kissed her head and then went to get his daughter.  Despite their bantering, Elisabeta knew he loved little Andie as much as she did.  She was their miracle baby.  A blessing, after the Maker had already blessed them once in a huge manner.

Chapter Text

Andromeda was suckling contentedly as Elisabeta listened to Bann Theodore drone on.  He paused.  “Your Majesty, your boob is out in the middle of my hearing.”

“The princess is hungry,” Elisabeta coolly informed him.  “We can recess your plea if you want to wait for her to finish eating.  I’m sure you won’t mind waiting.”

“Andie would,” Alistair spoke up.  “You haven’t heard her scream when she thinks she’s being ignored.  You’d think we were starving her.”

“We?”  Elisabeta gave her husband an arched eyebrow.  “I haven’t seen you feeding her.”

“Hey, I change her clouts,” he defended himself.

“That you do.”  Elisabeta reached over and patted his leg.  “So, are we waiting, Bann Theodore?”

“What!  No!”  Theodore pulled himself up.  “I demand my wife be beheaded for adultery!”

Alistair blinked in confusion.  “Do you think you’re in Orlais?  We don’t do that sort of thing around here.”

“Are you sure Aimee committed adultery?”  Elisabeta didn’t think poor Aimee would wonder.  Not that the bann’s wife was overly in love with him, she didn’t seem to be interested in romance at all.”

“She joined the Chantry,” Theodore reported.  “She had the Divine annul our marriage on the grounds of…”  He stopped and turned red.  “It wasn’t consummated.”  The last part came out in sort of a squeak.  “I married Blair a month later.”

“A whole month?”  Elisabeta tried not to roll her eyes.  She lowered her head, as if staring adoring at her daughter, and did so.  “I’m sure you knew she was the one for you.  It just seems that you weren’t the one for her.”

Alistair lifted his hand to cough into it.  His wife saw his grin and knew he was trying not to laugh.  “And you’ve found proof that she’s been unfaithful already?”

“I…”  The bann coughed.  “I suspected her weeks ago.”

“Because you’ve been married for so long and were so in love with each other,” Elisabeta’s voice rose in octave and became sickly sweet.

“My first suspicion came at the celebration of our marriage” the bann admitted.  “She danced with Ser Brian.  He is handsome and virile.  He has the most impressive chest hair I have ever seen and his voice is smooth and silky.”

“He obviously hasn’t seen Varric’s chest hair,” Alistair commented to his wife.

She gave him a couple nods in agreement and then turned to the bann.  “Is it your wife or you who is having an affair with this Ser Brian?  I assume that’s who you’re accusing her of… Caboodling.”

“Ser Brian of Bloomington,” he agreed.  “He is a suave and vital wife steeler.  And it is my wife.  He rejec… I mean I would never be unfaithful to my wife.”

“So, the proof you found?” Alistair prompted.

“I snuck into his room just a week ago,” the bann admitted.

“Why were you sneaking into his room?”  Elisabeta wanted to know.  “Did you already suspect something or…”  She stopped as Sera pranced in the room. 

The elven archer waved at the guards who were chasing after her.  Then she looked the bann up and down and zerberted.

“Of all the…”  Theodore drew himself up.

“They must have found more rifts,” Alistair muttered.

“We did,” Sera confirmed.  “Adrianna sent me to fetch you.”

Adrianna Trevelyan was the head of the Inquisition, but she wasn’t Inquisitor.  She pointed that out to anyone who would listen, that she was not the Inquisitor.  She felt she was more of a steward to Elisabeta, who was the Inquisitor.  Elisabeta looked down at her left hand.  The Mark was still quiet.  It had been given to her by Andraste, when the Maker’s Bride had switched her fate with that of Adrianna’s twin sister; a tranquil mage who had an unfortunate encounter with an arch-darkspawn who wanted to be a god.  Desdemona Trevelyan had found herself in the Fade, with all of her emotions coming back.  The explosion that had sent her into the Fade had opened a rift from the Abyss into the Fade and after ten years of a living Hell, Elisabeta had escaped the place.  Then Andraste Herself had resurrected her.  That had led to her becoming Inquisitor and the Mark on her hand meant she was the only one who could close the rifts.

Elisabeta stood and looked over at her husband.  “Don’t make any judgements on this case until I get back.  Oh, and have this Ser Brian brought in to testify, along with the wife.”  She looked back at the bann.  “Did you bring your wife to give her version of the events.”

“Why would I do that?”  Theodore wanted to know.

She sighed.  “Of course, you didn’t.”

“Aren’t you going to leave Andie?”  Alistair held out his arms.  “We do have a nurse for these things.”

“Oh, Adrianna’s bringing little Bran,” Sera informed him.  “They can play together or something.  We’ll take him with us.”

“What?”  Alistair was obviously not happy with that.

“Bull will pout if he doesn’t get to play with the baby,” Sera assured him.

Elisabeta giggled.  “He probably will.”  She kissed her husband.  “She’s safe with me and I… I want to be the one nursing her.”

The king sighed.  “Fine.  Come back soon.”

“I will,” she promised.

Elisabeta carried Andromeda in a sling as she rode Rowan, her beloved horse, out of the royal district of Denerim and then to the city gates. 

Adrianna was waiting in a well-built, yet simple carriage.  She stuck her head out of the window.  “It’s easier to ride in the carriage with an infant.  I know this from experience.”

“I prefer riding Rowan,” Elisabeta protested.  “You know this.”

“I do,” Adrianna confirmed.  “I also know that Rowan would appreciate not being overly exerted before she runs valiantly into the hordes of demons spitting out of the rifts.”

“They aren’t hordes,” Elisabeta objected.  She knew Adrianna was right, though.  She reluctantly dismounted and climbed into the carriage where Adrianna was waiting with her son.

Bran was now a toddler, if barely so.  He was beginning to form full sentences, walked awkwardly about, and thought Andie was even more amazing than trebuchets.  That was saying quite a lot for any Rutherford man.

When they reached the first rift, Elisabeta noticed a large group of Inquisition soldiers waiting for her.  No one was going to chance anything happening to her, they would have to answer to the King of Ferelden if something did.  She noticed something else, though, something that saddened her.

A good portion of her team was gone.  Sera had come with her and Bull was waiting, with his Chargers.  That was it, though.  The rest of her team wasn’t present.  She’d thought Cole was planning to stay with the Inquisition, but he wasn’t here to help her.

She looked back at Adrianna.  “Where are the others?”

“The others?”  Adrianna quickly realized who she meant, though.  “Cassandra left to find the other Seekers.  She’s having them read the book you two recovered from Lord Seeker Lucious.  Some are helping her rebuild the Seekers, others chose not to come back.”

“Good for her.”  Elisabeta was happy that Cassandra was rebuilding her Seekers, but it was sad to see her gone from the Inquisition that she’d helped found.  “What of Blackwall.”

“You gave him to the Grey Wardens, remember?”  Adrianna prompted.  “I heard you’d punched him before that for daring to pretend to be a Warden.”

“His lies were flimsy,” Elisabeta declared.  “And he didn’t seem to realize that I was a Grey Warden before I did that whole dying and coming back thing.  It was his answer on how Grey Wardens kill archdemons that really offended me.”

“I’d imagine so,” Adrianna agreed.  “He made it through the Joining, if you’re interested.  I remember you saying that not everyone does.”

“I was the only one in my Joining who survived,” Elisabeta confided.  “There were two others, but… the Joining killed Daveth.  Duncan killed Ser Jory when he tried to back out.”

“Harsh,” Adrianna frowned.

“I agree,” Elisabeta assured her.  “Alistair and I had more than one fight about that in the early days.  Duncan was a source of most of our fights during the Blight.”  She looked back to her team.  “Varric had told me he was going back to Kirkwall.  Did Cole go with him?”  She remembered that Cole had been counseling Gareth Hawke. 

“He did,” Adrianna confirmed.  “He insisted that Hawke needed him and that he was still haunted by the harshness of his past, his words.”

“Did Anders and Salona go as well?”  She’d thought her fellow ex-Grew Wardens would still be there to help her.

“They’re in Weisshaupt, Lissa,” Adrianna let out a long, deep sigh.  “They went there to tell off the Grey Wardens.  The Wardens are a mess, Solona won’t tell me how much of a mess, but they’re definitely a mess.  Anders had been hiding from them, as you know, but he went with her to stand up to their leaders.  They assure me that they’ll be back.”

“Do we have a plan to go in if those at Weisshaupt don’t just let them leave?”  Elisabeta had been conscripted by the Grey Wardens.  She didn’t exactly trust them to respect free will.

“Yes, I do, Lissa,” Adrianna assured her.  “I’d sic you on them.”

Elisabeta gave her a half grin and then handed her Andromeda.  “Watch her while I’m saving Thedas yet again.”

Adrianna looked down at Andromeda.  “Mommy’s going to go beat up some demons, so you get to play with me.”

Elisabeta chuckled as she leapt on Rowan’s back and charged towards the rift.

“My lady, you need to wait for us,” one of the soldiers cried as he chased after her.

Elisabeta Cousland-Theirin’s swords flashed as she charged towards the rift, cutting down the demons in her wake.  She shot ice at one of them through her favorite sword, Excalibur; which had been given to her by a spirit that dwelt in a lake near Redcliffe.  No one had caught on yet that when she had returned from the dead, she’d come back with magic.  It was a side effect of a life force transfer from a tranquil mage.  At least, if anyone had caught on, they had decided to keep quiet about it.

She leapt from Rowan’s back in mid-gallop and swung out her swords, cutting through two more demons.  “Watch my back,” she ordered the Inquisition soldiers.  Then she lifted her left hand and allowed the powers it held to pour into the rift.  After she was sure it was stitched shut, she pulled back, tying the metaphoric thread.  “Well, that was fun.  Let’s get the rest of them done.”

Chapter Text

Elisabeta had closed three rifts before she was even able to try and go home.  She didn’t go directly back to Denerim, though.  First, she made a detour.  She went to the place that would always hold her heart, her true home.

“I heard my little sister was coming!”  Fergus embraced her at the gates of Highever castle.

“I couldn’t stay away when I was already traveling… and nowhere near Denerim.”

“And you brought my favorite niece!”  He took Andromeda from her and cuddled the baby close.

“Andie’s your only niece,” Elisabeta laughed as she followed her brother into the castle.

“Mommy and daddy need to make me more nieces then, doesn’t she?”  Fergus asked Andie.  “Maybe even a nephew.  Would you like a brother?”  He lifted the baby up so he could kiss her.

“How is Eleanor handling being replaced as heir to the throne?”  Elisabeta worried about her own niece.

“She always knew it was a possibility,” Fergus assured her.  “She’s just happy that you’re the one who gave King Alistair an heir and not Anora.”

“It would have been hard for them to make an heir when they weren’t even having… Caboodling.”  She found she didn’t want to say the word ‘sex’ in front of her baby.

“Eleanor doesn’t realize that and please don’t say anything in front of her,” Fergus pleaded.  “She’s too young and River would kill us!”

“That she would,” Elisabeta agreed.  “Don’t worry, I haven’t told her how her cousin was conceived; just that Alistair is definitely her daddy.”

“Because you kissed him?”  Fergus’ voice was hopeful.

Elisabeta stopped in her tracks and clutched his arm.  “Is that how babies are made?  Oh no, he isn’t the only man I’ve kissed.  He’s the only one I had sex with, but I’ve kissed more.”

Fergus just laughed and continued into the castle.

Dinner that night was a happy affair.  The family ate together, discussing the news of Highever and Denerim, as well as Elisabeta’s latest rift closures.

“So, you haven’t been to Denerim in a few weeks?”  Rose questioned.

“No, I was taking care of a few rifts,” Elisabeta reminded her.  “The Inquisition is being very careful to ensure that I don’t get hurt while closing them, which takes longer.  They weren’t even going to let me fight my own demons on the last one!”

“Lissa, you make it sound like that’s a bad thing,” Fergus chuckled. 

“It is a bad thing,” she insisted.  “It makes me feel like some helpless Orlesian.  Do I look like Celene to you?”

“Empress Celene isn’t exactly helpless,” Fergus countered.

“She likes to make her enemies think she is, though,” River, his wife, pointed out.  “That’s when she strikes.”

“I’ve never seen her take out a demon,” Elisabeta grumbled.

“Me, either,” Eleanor agreed.  “They should make her fight one before they allow her to be Empress.”

“That’s not how it works,” her mother insisted.

“But it should,” Elisabeta decided.  “We should put that in our next peace treaty with them.  To take the Orlesian Throne, their next ruler will have to fight a demon in front of their court and their allies.”

“Now our queen is just trying to show off,” Fergus grumbled.

“She doesn’t have to try,” River smiled at her sister-in-law.

“Will she kill someone when she gets back to the palace?”  Eleanor innocently asked.  “You said she would, mommy.”

Elisabeta lowered her spoon and looked at River.  “Is there a reason I’m going to want to kill someone?”

No one answered her.

Chapter Text

Everything seemed normal when Elisabeta returned to Denerim Palace.  The sun was shining and the birds were singing.  Merchants waved as she passed through the Market District.  The townsfolk called greetings.  Alistair met her at the gate to the palace, a grin on his face.

“You’re home!”  He took Andromeda from her as she dismounted Rowan and kissed his daughter on the forehead.  “Daddy missed you, Andie,” he told his daughter.  “I missed you almost as much as I missed your mommy.”  He took Elisabeta’s hand and pulled her to him for a deep kiss.  “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Is everything alright here?”  Elisabeta followed him into the palace, keeping her hand in his, even as he gently cradled their daughter in his other arm.

“There was a close call,” he admitted.  “But then we found more cheese in the pantry.”

“Oh, good, that sounds like it could be disastrous,” she teased.  “I’ll go have a word with the head cook.  Was she aware we were low?”

“I… don’t know,” Alistair admitted.  “She… well…”

“I’ll go take care of matters,” Elisabeta kissed his cheek.  “Where will you be?”

“I’ll be in the main hall,” he gave her a swift kiss.  “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Is there a cheese shortage in Ferelden, Dani?”  Elisabeta questioned the head cook.

“Actually, there is,” Daniella, the Head Cook of Denerim Palace, confirmed.  “We were having to import from Orlais shortly after the Blight, but things improved.  However, there was a plague that affected the bovine in South Reach and the sheep in Crestwood and Amaranthine.  Only quick thinking protected the live stock in Highever.” 

Elisabeta did recall River saying something about setting up strict trading measures due to a disease that was infecting livestock, but she hadn’t realized it was this bad.

“That isn’t what caused us to be short, though,” Daniella continued.  “His Majesty was eating even more cheese than usual.  I believe his nerves have been affecting him.”

“His nerves?”  Alistair hadn’t told her that anything was wrong.  “Why are his nerves affected?”

“He…”  Daniella fidgeted and wiped her clean hands on her spotless apron.  “He’s been worried about your coming home.”

“He was worried that I wouldn’t?”  Elisabeta studied the cook.  No, that wasn’t it.  “He didn’t want me to come home?”

“Of course, he wants you home, but he has… reason… to believe you’ll be… upset with him,” Daniella gulped.

“Is there are reason I would be?”  Elisabeta’s mind raced.  What had happened in her absence?  Had he been unfaithful?  No, he wasn’t the type.  Had he started a war with Orlais?  She had a friendship with Empress Celene, but that didn’t supersede her concerns for her own people.  Was he causing trouble with the Inquisition?  That would make things awkward and she might just make heads roll.

“Well, Your Highness…”  Daniella squirmed; she wiped her hands again.  “The concern that you would be upset.”

“Would you be upset in my place?”  Elisabeta prompted. 

“Yes,” Daniella admitted.  “I believe I would.”

Elisabeta marched out of the kitchens and grabbed the closest messenger.  “Where is the cretin I was foolish enough to fall in love with?”

“I…”  The messenger gulped; eyes wide.  “Do you mean The King?”

“I haven’t been idiotic enough to fall in love with anyone else,” she confirmed.   “Do you know what he’s done that I’m not going to like?”

“I don’t know you well enough to be sure.”  The messenger was trembling.  He obviously knew.

“Very well.”  She released him and let him straighten his clothing.  “Where is he.”

“He’s in the main hall with some of the Bannorn,” the messenger revealed.

Elisabeta turned to the main hall.

Elisabeta noticed her cousins, the Banns of Waking Sea and the Storm Coast among several other banns.  Elfstanna and Sinead both gave her little waves, which she returned.  Then she quickly scanned for her husband.  She saw him talking to another man.  Even as she watched, he handed Andie to the other man.  Her blood ran cold.

It wasn’t just that she didn’t like strangers holding her baby.  In fact, this man was not a stranger.  No, he was an enemy.  Teagan Guerrin was holding her baby.

The Couslands had declared a feud with the Guerrins almost two years before.  They were partially responsible for the family fleeing Ferelden.  Adrianna and Gus, along with their archeology team, had uncovered some disturbing things about the family.  Among them was that Eamon and Teagan weren’t even Fereldan.  Hell, they weren’t even Guerrins.  They were Orlesians who had stolen someone else’s name, as one of their ancestors had stolen someone else’s identity. 

The Orlesian part was almost as bad as Eamon’s attempts to control the throne and his direct moves against Elisabeta and Alistair.  Teagan was far from an innocent, either, and now he was holding her baby.

Teagan’s eyes widened as Elisabeta stormed towards him.  She only stopped when they were a hair’s breath away from each other.  She slipped her arms through his, so she had a firm grip on her daughter.   When he didn’t let go immediately, she head butted him.  That caused him to loosen his grip enough for her to wrestle back her baby. 

“What the…” He put a hand to his now bleeding nose.

“Don’t. Touch. My. Baby.”  She shifted her daughter so she was firmly in her left arm and used the right one to punch Teagan.  Then former arl flew back several feet.  She turned on her husband and threw a dramatic arm out, pointing to where Teagan now lay on the floor.  “What is he doing in our home and why were you letting him anywhere near my baby, much less hold her?”

“He’s my uncle,” Alistair reminded her.

“No, he isn’t!”  Elisabeta hissed.  “He’s the brother of your father’s first wife.  She wasn’t your mother!  Your mother was…”  She broke off before she revealed any secrets.  “Rowan wasn’t even Maric’s love.  He was in love with an elf Loghain got killed.  Hell, Rowan had mad, passionate sex with Loghain!”  How did she know this?  Suddenly she knew things she shouldn’t.  Where had she picked up such information.  She suddenly had a vague recollection of meeting a honey haired elf in the Fade.  This wasn’t the place to explore whether or not she was imagining things.  Although, the entire court gasped around her at her accusation.  “Eamon and Teagan are supposed to be in exile, not in our court!” 

“Teagan is just a victim of circumstance,” Alistair assured her.  “He had been writing me, stating his case for his exile to be removed.  Then he came to me, full of humility and love; a love for all of Ferelden.  He had nothing to do with Eamon’s plans, it isn’t right to punish him for the actions of his family.  At least he didn’t have mad, passionate… sex… with Loghain.”  He turned red at the word ‘sex’.  Was he accusing her of…?  No, she realized, he was reeling at what she had said about Rowan.

Elisabeta marched to Teagan and glared down at him.  “Stay away from my family.”  She then marched out of the hall, thinking of how much she’d been looking forward to seeing her husband.  While she’d been rushing to his side, he’d been letting her enemies into their gates.

Alistair watched his wife storm out of the room, their daughter in her arms.  He wasn’t sure where he’d gone wrong.  No, that wasn’t completely true.  He glanced at his Uncle Teagan, who was pulling himself off of the floor.  He’d known Elisabeta wouldn’t be happy when she learned that he’d welcomed Teagan back.  He’d meant to talk to her about it, but then he’d come into the main hall with Andie.  Teagan had gone on about wanting to meet his great niece.  He’d handed the baby over without thinking.  He moved to follow his wife, but felt himself restrained.

Bann Sinead of the Storm Coast had her hand on his arm.  Bann Elfstanna of the Waking sea was beside her.  Elisabeta’s cousins did not look happy.  “I would leave her alone for a bit if I were you,” Sinead warned.  “I’ll go help her.”

“Help her do what?”  Alistair was afraid he didn’t want to know.

“Oh, you don’t think you’re sleeping in the same bed with her tonight, do you?”  Sinead’s look was a mix of amusement and sympathy.  “If you wanted to sleep with her, you shouldn’t have let any of the faux Guerrins back into Ferelden.”

Alistair had been looking forward to his family’s return to Denerim and anticipating a night of reunion in his wife’s arms.  Instead, he found himself staring at the ceiling of his rooms in an otherwise empty bed.

It hadn’t taken long for Beta and her cousins to set up the Queen’s rooms for her.  She’d never used them before.  Yet now there was a large bed in there and it was being decorated.  He let out a deep sigh.  He’d tried to apologize, but she kept repeating that he’d let Teagan hold their baby.  It was going to take a lot of groveling to live that down.  Then it would take more for her to forgive him for his decision to let his uncle come back.  He was in for a long couple of weeks.

Chapter Text

It had taken Elisabeta only a few days to return to her husband’s bed.  She had to admit that she just loved him too much to stay away for long.  She let him know that she was still angry with him for the next few weeks, just in case he forgot.

Now she sat beside Alistair on their thrones, with Andromeda on her lap.  Andie was sitting on her lap, leaning against her for support.  She tried to concentrate on the case before her, even as she wondered why the banns didn’t deal with more of their own problems.  She made a mental note to bring that up at the next Landsmeet.

They had already dealt with Bann Theodore that morning.  They were now arranging for Ser Brian of Bloomington to come to court, along with Lady Aimee and Theodore’s first wife.  There had also been a case where a farmer accused his neighbor of having a ram that was possessed by a demon.  She was beginning to wonder if all of the goats in Thedas was really a rage demon.

The case before her now was more serious.  She glanced at her husband who was rubbing his right hand along his jaw.  She let out a little sigh.  No matter how mad she got at him, she would always love her foolish idiot.  “So,” Alistair glanced at her and their eyes locked for a moment, then he turned his attention back to the plaintiff.  “You are suing The Bann of South Reach for cruelty.”

“Yes,” the plaintiff nodded.  She was a short, round woman with wild red hair.  Her curls poked out of their braids in rebellion against being constrained.  “Andraste was burned at the stake in a form of torture.  Should the suffering of the Bride of the Maker not bring an end to unnecessary suffering?  What benefits do such things bring?  It is just the cruelty of man against man… and woman.  Are we the barbarians that Orlais and Tevinter claim or we above them?  Better than them?  There is no reason for the Bann of South Reach to make his people suffer.  If someone who is to be executed deserves to suffer, should that not be up to the Maker, whom they will soon join?  He is a sick and sadistic man.  I say his dungeons should be emptied and his devices of torture destroyed.”

“I need those for interrogation, Your Majesties,” The Bann insisted.  “Yes, they can be used on prisoners, but sometimes their crimes deserve more punishment.”

“No, they don’t,” the plaintiff, Hestia MacDonald, insisted.  “Yes, it is sometimes necessary to separate criminals from the rest of society, but that does not mean we should treat them worse than we do animals.  If the bann is treating his animals so badly, I suggest they be taken from him as well.”

“Your Majesties,” The Bann rolled his eyes and gave a smirk, as if Alistair and Elisabeta were obviously on his side and the plaintiff was just some crazy woman.  Elisabeta found herself wanting to use one of his supposed torture devices on him just for that.  “Such devices are necessary for questioning.”

“Investigation and testimony are all that is needed to investigate crimes,” Hestia contended.  “The Bann and his guards are goons.  They are worse than Orlesians!”  The entire court gasped at the accusation.

“Who are you questioning?”  Elisabeta wanted to know. 

“What if I have a prisoner of war?”  The Bann suggested.

“I would remind this court that South Reach is in the middle of Ferelden and the only border our fair kingdom shares is with Orlais, which Redcliff is next to,” Hestia pointed out.

“She is correct,” Elisabeta shifted Andromeda.  “Have you found Orlesian spies in South Reach?  I know that there were Red Templars in the Storm Coast, but I don’t believe they got as far south as South Reach.  If they have, we’ll need to send soldiers down to safely remove any red lyrium that may have sprung up.”  She turned to her husband.  “Alistair?”

“I admit that red lyrium is concerning,” he nodded.

“I don’t have any red lyrium is South Reach,” The Bann insisted.

“But he does have torture devices in his dungeon,” Hestia pushed.  “Devices that men, women, and children are subjected to.  How would you feel if your darling baby were one day put on one?”

“Have you heard a threat against my daughter?” Alistair stood.  “Is the Bann torturing babies?”

“No, Your Highness,” Hestia assured him.  “He hasn’t targeted any infants that I know of, nor has he threatened anyone in your family.  I merely meant that one day she will grow up and we want her to live in the best society possible.”

Elisabeta looked from the Bann to Hestia and back.  Then she looked at her husband.  “Highever does not have any such devices.  The Couslands have no need for them, why does South Reach?”

Andromeda babbled in agreement and shook her rattle at the Bann.

“We can’t just take away interrogation devices away from all the Arls and Banns.  You know that There are some in Fort Drakon.”  Alistair referred to Denerim’s prison. 

“Yes, and I might have ended up on one of them if I hadn’t been careful in my quest to avenge my family,” she reminded him.  “The Arl of Denerim also has them.  You’ll recall finding Bann Wolff’s son on a rack, his innocent son whose only mistake was having a friend who told him the truth about Ostagar.  Why didn’t you send Threnn to work for the Wolffs instead of the Inquisition?  What was up with that?”

“I… that… we’ll discuss that later,” Alistair insisted.  “We’ll discuss acceptable interrogation techniques at the next Landsmeet.  Meanwhile, we’ll send people to investigate South Reach’s dungeons to ascertain whether anything is amiss there.  Until then, no one is to be questioned or executed in South Reach.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Bann grumbled.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hestia curtsied.

It was apparent that neither plaintive was happy.  As they both left a couple walked in.  The man carried a little boy in his arms.  Another man walked behind the couple.

“Adrianna!”  Elisabeta stood and ran to her friend.  “Cullen!”  She beamed at both of them and gave Adrianna a one-armed hug, holding Andie in her other arm.

“What brings the Inquisition here?”  Alistair inquired.  “Do you have a matter to bring before Ferelden’s Crown?”  He looked at the man the couple.  “Prince Augustus, what brings you here?”  All friendliness began to slip away.

The court murmured.  Several of them knew that the prince had once had plans to marry their queen.  Those who knew the gossip quickly shared it with their companions.

“I came to visit my friend,” Adrianna insisted.  “I do, however, have a matter to bring to her.  However, it is not a concern of the Crown.”

“Is it the Inquisition?”  Elisabeta demanded to know.

“It is,” Adrianna confirmed.  “Nothing is necessarily wrong.  The organization is running smoothly and continuing to keep peace and order in Thedas.  It’s just… Bran is a toddler now and… I have another baby on the way!”  She beamed at that.  “When this one starts walking, I want to go back to my archeology work and Cullen… well, he…”

“I want to establish a home of sorts,” Cullen spoke up.  “It will be a place for ex-Templars to come, especially those trying to stop taking, or who are suffering the long term effects of lyrium.  Those who are on it too long, well…”  He hesitated.

“I’ve seen the affects,” Elisabeta assured him.  “Do you remember the Templar they allowed to still serve in the Denerim Chantry during the Blight, Alistair?”

“I do,” Alistair confirmed.  “I admire your goals, but… I hope you aren’t asking Beta to take back over the Inquisition.  I know she’s still technically your Inquisitor, but she’s needed here.  I’m willing to spare her when she needs to close a rift, but that’s the extent of it.”

“Willing to spare me?”  Elisabeta jostled Andie gently, partially to help her keep her temper.  “I believe it’s my choice.”

“I just thought it would be better for you to name a new steward, rather than me,” Adrianna further explained.  “Leliana had been your seneschal in name, but she’s now the Divine.”

“No, she won’t do,” Elisabeta decided.  “She’s just to kill happy.  We should leave her as Divine.  Do you know that the first time we met, she tried to talk me out of killing some of Loghain’s soldiers?”

“Did she succeed?”  Adrianna asked.  She glanced at Alistair when he tried to contain a chuckle.

“They worked for Loghain, who was buddies with Rendon Howe,” Elisabeta explained.  “Anyone associated with Rendon Howe has to die.”

“Of course, they do,” Cullen muttered, clearly disagreeing with her logic. 

“And why are you here?”  Alistair turned everyone’s attention to Gus and away from his wife’s vengeful tendencies.

“I’m accompanying Adrianna,” Gus announced.  “I’d also like her to return to her archeological duties.  I miss exploring ruins.”

“Shouldn’t you be in Orlais?”  Alistair continued to object.  “You are practically betrothed to Empress Celene.”  That caused muttering among the court.

“I…”  Gus squared his shoulders.  “I have determined that a marriage to Empress Celene would not be in the best interest of Navarra.  As the King of Ferelden, I would think that you would have your own objections to such a union as it would give Orlais too much power.  Besides, Celene is very happy with her Marquese.”  He referred to Briala, who was the Marquis of the Dales and Empress Celene’s lover.  I have no interest in just performing stud duties for her.”

“It would be more than that,” Elisabeta assured him.  She felt a bit guilty for breaking off their relationship when she realized she could have Alistair back.  Celene had gone to her with her idea of marrying Gus herself and helping her with Alistair.

“Not much more,” Gus assured her.  “I want a wife I can have a life with, not one having a life with her girlfriend… or boyfriend… or, well you know me.”

“I do,” she smiled sadly.  Then she had an idea.  “Since we have Heroes of the Inquisition here, we must have a ball to honor you.”  Perhaps she could find a woman there who would be an acceptable future Queen of Navarra and a good companion for Gus.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta looked over at Alistair as she smoothed the skirts of her royal blue ballgown.  There were gold climbing roses embroidered into it.  Her husband was sitting on their bed, in his own finery, playing with their daughter.  Andromeda was in light cream Highever linen.  “Why don’t we just take her to the ball?”

Alistair grinned at her.  “I would love to, but how can we dance if we are holding her.  Besides, she and Brann are planning a wild night with Thorn and their nannies.”  Thorn was Elisabeta’s mabari.  Calenhad, her great war mabari who had fought the Fifth Blight, now took to just sleeping in front of their fireplace and grumbling if anyone tried to wake him up.

She let out a long sigh.  “I know you’re right and their nannies know where Adrianna and I are if either of them needs us, but…”

“She’s still in the castle and well-guarded, Beta,” Alistair assured her.  “You can let someone else take care of her for a while.”

“I guess so,” she caved.

“Besides, you need to go find someone else for Gus to fixate on, name a replacement for the head of the Inquisition, and celebrate our friends.”

“Very well.”  She watched as Alistair smoothly transferred Andie to one arm and then held out the other for her.  She took the offered arm and smiled at him.  She sent a silent prayer to Andraste and Her Maker that the ball went well.

“We didn’t have this many banners in here,” Elisabeta observed as Alistair guided her across the dance floor.  “The flowers are a nice touch though.”  The banners were the Theirin gold and red.  The flowers were a mix of red and yellow roses, as well as dahlias.  They were everywhere.  Someone had built trellises and draped cloth to create little private alcoves.  The trellises were covered with the flowers.

Cullen and Adrianna were dancing nearby.  They seemed to already be in a little world of their own.  Their toddler was being watched by someone else and they were free from their duties to the Inquisition at the moment.

Elisabeta was happy for the couple, but it meant that she had to see to her own duties to the Inquisition.  She wasn’t going to return to leading it, that would create several complications.  “I thought about Scout Harding as a replacement for Adie,” she admitted.  “But I doubt she would accept.  She’s too fond of being a scout.  Besides, I was already trying to get her to replace Leliana.  Charter has been leading the scouts, but Lace Harding is better suited to the job.  She’s a talented rogue who would rather be in the field, though.”

“Hmmm, that reminds me of someone I know,” Alistair teased.

“I was taught to run a teyrnir since I was able to walk and talk,” she reminded him.  “I am a talented rogue, though.”

“Yes, you are,” he agreed.  “What about Cassandra, she helped to start the Inquisition.”

“She’s searching out the rest of the Seekers and telling them the truth about their order, the good and bad,” Elisabeta explained.  “She wants to rebuild them, into something better.  I told you she wasn’t there last time I went to close rifts.”

“You did,” he continued to lead her across the dance floor.  “Out of your team, who’s left?”

Elisabeta thought about it for a moment.  “The Iron Bull, Sera, and Dorian.”

“Having Sera at the head of the Inquisition would be funny,” Alistair pointed out.

“And would destroy the Inquisition,” Elisabeta decided.  “She’s a great Red Jenny, but not the type to head a massive organization.  She would dress the soldiers up as bees and it would make it difficult for them to fight.  Cole would be a disaster.”

“He’d get all of your soldiers bunnies,” Alistair decided.  “Bees, bunnies, and bulls.  Is that your only choices?”

She sighed.  “I hope not.  I’ll ask Cassandra and see what she says.”

“Wasn’t the Inquisition her idea?”  Alistair pointed out.

Elisabeta shook her head.  “Divine Justinia left instructions for Leliana and Cassandra to start it if things went sour at the Conclave.”  The way she said the former Divine’s name expressed her feelings towards the woman who had turned her best friend into a maniacal killing machine while Elisabeta was dead.

“Maybe we should assign someone to go through all of the members of the Inquisition and bring back reports to help us decide who the best choice is,” Alistair suggested.

“I’m sure Adie would be more willing to arrange that, just so she can retire.”  Elisabeta looked over at her friend.  She noticed that Teagan had approached Adrianna and Cullen and was trying to cut in on them.  She wasn’t sure if he wanted to dance with Adrianna or Cullen.  She wasn’t happy about him being near either, one.  She wondered if he knew how much Adrianna had aided her in the Guerrins’ downfall.  “Did you have to invite him to the ball?”  She knew Cullen wasn’t on her invitation list.

“He’s my uncle,” Alistair reminded her.

“He isn’t,” she insisted.  “How many times do I need to remind you that Rowen wasn’t your mother.  She was your father’s dearly deceased wife.  Where is… our Court Enchantress?”

Alistair pointed to where Fiona was dancing with one of the banns.  “She just returned from some College of Enchanters pow-wow last night.  I think they were praising her for killing Vivienne.  She wants to thank you again for giving her the opportunity.”

Elisabeta grinned at that.  “Oh, it was my pleasure.  What is not my pleasure is seeing the cowardly snake you think is your uncle at a ball for my friends.”

“It will be fine, darling,” Alistair assured her.

Adrianna glared at Teagan.  “I can’t believe you’re even back in Ferelden, much less trying to cut into my dance with my husband.”

“You’ve danced with him all night,” Teagan pointed out.  “It’s time to dance with someone new and let others dance with your handsome commander.”

“No, it isn’t,” Cullen shook his head.

“He doesn’t actually like to dance,” Adrianna revealed.  “He just does it because he loves me.”

“It’s true,” Cullen assured him.

“Look,” Teagan glared.  “I’m only asking for one dance.  Remember, I’m the king’s uncle.  I can make life difficult for you and your Inquisition.”

Adrianna returned his look glare for glare.  “Apparently, you didn’t realize that I’m the one who uncovered your family’s deep, dark secrets.  Make life difficult for me and you’ll find the favor returned tenfold.  Now, good day, ser.”  She took her husband’s hand and stalked out to the gardens.

“And there goes our guests of honor,” Elisabeta watched Adrianna and Cullen leave the ballroom.  “What did Teagan say to them?”

“I… it’s not my fault,” Alistair insisted.

“You let him back in Ferelden,” Elisabeta hissed at him.

“I…”  Alistair began.

A murmur ran through their guests, cutting off his words.  Then guards in Chantry livery entered the ballroom.  They were followed by a small cluster of clerics.  Then Divine Victoria waltzed in.  The Divine looked around.  “I was invited.  Sorry, I’m late.”

The court herald followed behind her, breathing heavily.  “Divine Victoria!”  He announced.

“Yes, we can see that,” Alistair pointed out.

Elisabeta approached the new comers. 

A guard moved into her way, to block her.  “No one approaches Divine Victoria unbidden.”

Elisabeta answered his challenge with a fist to his face.  She looked down at his now crumpled form.  “This is my home; I’ll approach who I want.”  She stepped over him and embraced the Divine.  “It’s wonderful to see you, Leliana.”

“And you, my friend,” Leliana returned the embrace.  “Did you have to punch Kristopher?”

“It’s better than a dagger,” Elisabeta gave her a pointed look.  “We both know if he got in your way, he’d end up with a dagger and it would somehow be in his back and not front.”

“True,” Leliana conceded.  “So where are Addie and Cullen?”

“I saw them heading towards the gardens,” Elisabeta explained.  “We should go out and join them.  They were dancing until…”

“Divine Victoria!”  Teagan interrupted them.  One of the guards was glaring at him, but none of them had tried to stop him.

Leliana looked at her three guards who were still standing.  “How did he get through?  You’re standing in front of my friends and not in front of… Teagan.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”  Teagan smoothed.  “We fought the undead in Redcliffe together.”

“I fought, you hid in the chantry,” Leliana shook her head.  “Maker forgive you, your cowardice in that instance Ba… Ar… Teagan.  What are you doing in Ferelden?  I thought you were banished.”  She gave Elisabeta a significant glance.

“King Alistair was nice enough to invite me back,” Teagan grinned.

“Did he?”  Leliana kept her voice light.  “Lissa, I believe we were about to walk in the gardens.  She nodded at Teagan and slipped an arm around Elisabeta so they walked out to the gardens together.

“Where is my goddaughter?”  Leliana demanded to know as she and Elisabeta walked out into the gardens.

“Andie and Bran are both with their nannies right now,” Elisabeta explained.  “I have been assured that both are being spoiled rotten at the moment and don’t even notice that their mothers are off dancing.  Their mabari are with them.  Thorn is devoted to Andie and is her helpless slave.”

Leliana gave her a little smile.  “Oh, I’m sure they’ve noticed.  If they have helpless slaves, with them, though, I’m sure they’re content with the situation.”

“I hope so,” Elisabeta fidgeted.  “Adrianna is the only person, besides Alistair, that I’ve left Andie with.”

“She’ll be all right,” Leliana assured her.  “She is a Fereldan Princess and the daughter of Ferelden’s Hero.  Although, I’m wondering how that hero let Teagan Guerrin back into her kingdom.  Didn’t you exile Teagan and his brother, Eamon?”

“Not exactly.”  Elisabeta flashed her a wicked smile.  “Fergus got the Landsmeet to do it for us.”  The smile faded.  “Unfortunately, Alistair let him back in while I was off closing rifts.  Now, I have to deal with him, as well as finding a replacement for Adie.  I don’t suppose you want to step down as Divine and take over?”

Leliana gave her a little hug.  “I love you, but no.  I’m busy changing Thedas for the better.  I’ll help you come up with someone, though.  Meanwhile, I could also kill Teagan for you.  I don’t get to kill people as often as I used to, being Divine has its drawbacks.  I miss putting a dagger in the heart of my enemies.  I know Teagan likely deserves one.”

“He does,” Elisabeta sighed.  “But Alistair would throw a fit.  You know how he gets.  For now, I must be content to let him just be the king’s crazy uncle.  As long as Alistair doesn’t return any of his power, things should be fine.  Maybe I can get him to retire to a cottage in the country.”

“Perhaps you can arrange for that countryside to be in Antiva,” Leliana suggested.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta relaxed on the blanket spread in the rose garden of Denerim Palace.  There was a small meal of bread, cheese, and shredded beef in front of her.  Next to her, was her husband.  They had a wine bottle between them.

At the edge of the blanket, Andromeda was laying on her stomach.  As Elisabeta watched her daughter, she pushed herself up onto arms and legs and start rocking back and forth.  She did it for several moments and then let herself collapse back on the blanket, as she laughed.  She was definitely Alistair’s daughter.

She glanced at her husband, who had his eyes closed as he savored a bight of cheese.  She knew she should let him enjoy the little meal and the bright Summer day, but she’d received news that greatly bothered her right before she’d come out to join him.  “Did you really name Teagan the Ambassador of Orlais?”

Alistair opened his eyes and glanced at her.  “He was the ambassador before… you arranged for him to be exiled.”

“And you really thought it was the right place for him now?”  She had really been hoping he’d retire to a cottage in the countryside soon.  Preferably, a cottage outside of Ferelden’s borders.

“He did a fine job of it before.”  Alistair had paled and gone a bit red, though.  He was also not looking her in the eye.  He knew she wasn’t going to be happy.

“And I learned about this from Celene,” she continued.  “The Empress of Orlais wrote to me with the news.  She knew I wasn’t going to be happy.  She was concerned about my marital troubles!”

“We aren’t having marital troubles,” he insisted.  “Are we?”

“Well, I’m not happy with you at the moment,” she admitted.  Then her shoulders dropped.  “You know I’ll always love you.”

“I love you, too.”  He leaned in and kissed her.  “I thought that sending Teagan to Orlais would make you happy.  You growl at him whenever he tries to come near Andie.”

“I don’t actually growl,” she insisted.

“You literally growled at him the last time he tried,” Alistair assured her.

Elisabeta thought back to the incident.  She had let out a little growl, but the man had gotten too close to her baby.

Chapter Text

“The Inquisition is too powerful!”  Bann Loren was screaming this as Elisabeta approached the main hall.  She wondered if someone had called a Landsmeet, why else would Bann Loren be at the palace?

When she entered the room, it almost looked as if a Landsmeet had been called.  There were dozens of banns and a couple of arls there.  They were glaring at each other and Alistair.  That caused her to square her shoulders and march into the room.

“They must be forced to dismantle!”  Bann Teoric shouted.  “They have control of a fort in Crestwood!  They’re right on our border.  We must do something!”

“Perhaps you could find a spell to travel back in time,” Elisabeta’s voice was cold.  She thought back to her one trip back in time and shuddered.  “Then you can tell me this before I took the fort.  I could just leave bandits in the fort and let the area be overrun by Red Templars.  That is after the undead finished off the townsfolk, of course.  Perhaps I could then not kill Corypheus and let him succeed in his plans to enter the Fade and become a god.”

“I…”  Teoric shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m sure you would have come up with a way to save Thedas,” she continued.  “You all seemed to be doing so well when I returned from the dead.  Kirkwall was literally in flames, the Mages and Templars had gone to war, and the Divine had been murdered.”

“Kirkwall isn’t in Ferelden,” Elfstanna objected.

Elisabeta just shot her a sardonic look.  “The Temple of Sacred Ashes was.  Should I go back to the undead in Crestwood or the fact that the Mage-Templar war was happening in the middle of the Hinterlands?  Then Teagan expected the Inquisition to pay for damages when we allied with the Free Mages!  He was obviously incompetent!  The man hid in the chantry when undead overran Redcliffe!  Did none of you realize he was a coward?”

“We couldn’t let Connor inherit Redcliffe,” was Teoric’s lame answer.  “He’s a mage.”

“The Maker doesn’t care that he’s a mage!”  Elisabeta shouted at him.  “That’s just your Chantry instilled prejudice!”

“The Divine’s your best friend, why are you bad mouthing the Chantry?”  Bann Wulff wanted to know.

“Have you met Andraste?”  Elisabeta challenged him.  “Well, I have, the Chantry hasn’t exactly been speaking for her.  Why don’t you look at the Inquisition being in the Frostback Mountains as a shield against Orlais, instead of a threat.  Is it the new peace treaty?  Who brokered that peace treaty again?”

“No one can deny that the Inquisition served a purpose, but we can’t just have an army sitting on our border!”  Bann Wulff continued to insist.

“Gallagher,” she addressed Bann Wulff.  “Do we not also have Avaar living in those mountains?  I believe your own daughter has fallen in love with one of them.  Do you think they’re defenseless?”

“They are a concern as well,” Gallagher Wulff claimed.  “We need to civilize them, but that isn’t our primary worry.”

“Neither is the Inquisition,” she glared at him.  “They are an ally, at least.  The Avaar merely tolerate us.  The Inquisition is not our enemy and you don’t want to make them such.”

“Of course, they aren’t your enemy, Your Highness,” Teoric almost made Your Highness an insult.  “You’re their Inquisitor.  You may not be leading the group actively, but we all know you have an allegiance to them, an allegiance that might supersede your loyalty to Ferelden.”

The other banns gasped at the accusation.

Elisabeta lifted her head.  “Where were you when the darkspawn were overrunning Ferelden and King Cailan lay dead on the fields of Ostagar?  Oh, that’s right, you were licking Loghain’s boots.  That would be the man who left Cailan and the Grey Wardens, the only ones capable of stopping an archdemon, to die.  I, on the other hand, have already died for this country once.  Don’t think I won’t kill for it, too.”

“Is that a threat?”  Teoric took a step forward.

            “It’s a promise,” Elisabeta assured him.

            “Beta, we can’t go around killing our own banns,” Alistair sighed.

            She pouted.  She’d grown up the daughter of a teyrn and knew what royalty could get away with.  That didn’t mean she didn’t want to scare Teoric or that she wouldn’t punch him.  “Fine, I won’t kill him until he gives me good reason.”

            “What!” Teoric screeched.

            Gallagher Wulff’s jaw dropped.

            Elfstanna hid her grin.

            “What else did we need to discuss,” Alistair sighed.

            “Empress Celene sent a letter asking ‘Are you kidding?’.”  Elfstanna reported.  “I’m not sure what that’s about.”

            Elisabeta knew.  She raised an eyebrow at her husband.

            Elisabeta and Alistair left the conference room together.  She turned to him.  “Are you really going to let our nobles threaten the Inquisition?”

            “Beta…”  He let out a deep sigh and scratched his short beard.  “We can’t just ignore the Landsmeet.  They could make our lives very difficult.”

            “They’re helpless children who like to run around the well only moments after they were pulled out of it!”  She declared.  “I’m tired of saving them and now they’re gunning for the Inquisition.”  She sighed.  “As long as we don’t back them, there isn’t much they can do.  The Inquisition still has a purpose.  I’ve barely finished closing the rifts and Thedas still hasn’t recovered.”

            Alistair pulled her into his arms.  “Everything will be fine, Beta, I promise.”

            She returned the hug.  “I’ll hold you to that promise.  And if everything isn’t fine, I’ll start making heads roll.”

            “Of that I have no doubt.”  He kissed the top of her head. 

Chapter Text

“Teoric is still pushing against the Inquisition,” Elisabeta observed as she propped Andromeda up on her desk.  Her daughter had a rattle in her fist and was shaking it furiously and then laughing at it.

            “My lady,” Margot walked in, carrying a tray of scrolls.  “This came for you.”  She handed one to Elisabeta. 

            Elisabeta took the missive, barely glancing at it at first.  “It came from your godmother,” she told Andie, who shook her rattle in response.  “I wonder how her Chantry is doing.”

            She opened the letter and half stood up, grasping her daughter as she did so.  “Those pieces of shit!”  She finished standing up and held Andie with one arm as she continued to read.  This was not acceptable. 

            She wondered if she should wait to calm down before she wrote Empress Celene.  Then decided screw that.  She sat back down and began her strongly worded letter, knowing that strongly and worded were putting things simply.

            When she’d sent the letter out, she went to talk to her husband and his cronies.

            Alistair was discussing the rebuilding of part of West Hill with Bann Wulff, when Elisabeta marched into his office.

            “It would have been easier if my sons were alive,” Gallagher Wulff was bemoaning.  “I’m getting too old for this.  Plus, I must find a woman to have a new heir with.  Why don’t we have some sort of ball here in Denerim for all of the ladies?”

            “Isn’t your daughter your heir?”  Elisabeta questioned from behind him.  “You didn’t disown her for marrying an Avaar did you?  Can you legally disown her for such a minor offense, especially when I’m beginning to hear rumors that you are a Venatori sympathizer?”  She wished she was making that last part up, but Leliana had indeed been uncovering rumors and was even now setting up a committee to look into his actions.  She had offered Elisabeta the choice between a formal Chantry Condemnation and letting the queen use it to blackmail the bann.  There was little choice between the two, she was totally going to use the information as blackmail.  What was Chantry Condemnation anyway?

            “She, well…”  Bann Wulff stumbled for a moment and then straightened his shoulders.  “Her choices call into question her fitness to hold such an important position.”

            “Like your decision to support the Venatori calls into question yours?”  Maker, she was enjoying having the blackmail information.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he claimed.

            “Yes, you do,” she insisted.

            “What are you talking about, Beta?”  Alistair hadn’t been made privy to the secrets she and Leliana were keeping, which was why he was now a target for her anger.”

            “We’ll discuss that after we discuss this!”  She thrust the letter from Leliana at him.

            Alistair took the letter and paled.  “I have to do what’s best for Ferelden.  Teagan has my confidence that he is doing exactly that.”

            “He isn’t even…”  She just shook her head and shifted Andie in her arms.  “I’ll have my rooms prepared.”

            “Beta!”  Alistair’s octave and voice both rose.  “I meant to tell you about the Exalted Council, when we were alone.  I hadn’t realized it had been called.”

            “But you knew it would be.  You knew my feelings,” she reminded him.  “You also know my feelings on Teagan and his brother.”

            “Teagan is already in Orlais and doing what the bannorn wants,” Wulff proclaimed.

            She gave him a disgusted look.  “Keep repeating that and I’ll make sure the entire bannorn learns of your support towards the Venatori.  Don’t think that I don’t have proof or that I can’t make your life difficult.”

            “You and your brother proved that when you took down the Guerrins,” Wulff retorted.  He obviously seemed to resent that and was too stupid to realize she’d do the same to him if she thought it was best.  She wondered how much trouble it would stir up in the bannorn if she punched him.  Sweet Andraste’s Tits, she couldn’t punch him while she was holding Andie.  She turned and left the room.

            She was taking this to the bannorn.

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand why Teagan Guerrin is even our Ambassador to Orlais!”  Sinead, the Bann of the Storm Coast, shouted at Bann Wulff.

            A very haggard looking king stared at the assembled banns and arls who were now yelling loudly at each other.  He’d been sure that they all wanted the Inquisition to disband.  There was an army on their border, a very well trained one.

            “He did fine before,” another bann grumbled.  “He’s doing what we want.”

            “No, he isn’t!”  This came from Elfstanna.

            Beside Alistair, Elisabeta glared at the lot of them.  She’d left Andie with her nanny.  He hadn’t seen his daughter all day and his wife had marched into the room, glanced at him, and then sat on her throne.  Now, she just glared at the bannorn, as her hand fiddled on the hilt of a dagger as if she planned to throw it at the person, she found most annoying.  He’d seen her fight an Archdemon, he prayed to the Maker he wasn’t the person she decided annoyed her the most.  Maker, he wanted to beg her forgiveness, but he couldn’t go against the will of the Bannorn.

            At the moment, he wasn’t sure what the Bannorn’s will was.  There was just a lot of shouting that gave him a headache.  He turned to Elisabeta.  “Look, Beta…”

            The doors opened and the herald strolled in.  “Lady Adrianna Trevelyan-Rutherford and Ser Cullen Rutherford,” he announced.

            Alistair groaned and Elisabeta stood to greet her friends. 

            The bannorn all stopped talking at once looking at the Inquisition leaders, several with guilty expressions on their faces.  Elisabeta rolled her eyes, the hypocrites.  Why didn’t they just admit that they were trying to destroy the Inquisition?  After all, she who was technically still the Inquisitor knew.

            “I…”  Adrianna looked at the members of the Bannorn nervously.  “I need your help, Lissa.”

            Elisabeta just nodded and then held out a hand.  “Let’s go talk in the rose garden.”

            “I’ll go with you,” Alistair stood as well.

            “Oh, no, you’re going to stay here and deal with them,” Elisabeta waved a hand at the banns.  Then she walked away.

            “What was that about?”  Cullen glanced back towards the main hall.

            “It’s exactly what you think it’s about,” Elisabeta assured him.  “The Bannorn wants to end the Inquisition and my beloved husband is backing him.”

            “Does that have anything with Teagan Guerin’s roll as the Fereldan Ambassador to Orlais?”  Adrianna wanted to know.  “I could have sworn I’d help run him out of Ferelden.”

            “You did,” Elisabeta confirmed.  “He used Alistair’s sentiment to worm his way back into the country.  Alistair thinks of him as an uncle, even though they do not share a single drop of blood.”

            “Then why does he think of him that way?”  Cullen inquired. 

            Elisabeta knew Cullen valued family.  “Because Eamon and Teagan were Rowan, Maric’s wife’s, brothers, Alistair was taken to them.  Rowan was already dead, though, so I’m not sure why they were chosen.  Perhaps because…”  She stopped before she could mention maids and babes who had died in child birth.  She shook her head.  “Maybe they just wanted him to have a relationship with his brother.  They were Cailan’s uncles.  Of course, Eamon sent him off to the Templars when he was ten, at Isolde’s insistence.”

            “It wasn’t Alistair’s choice?”  Adrianna was appalled.

            “The Chantry has supplied orphans to the Templars,” Cullen mentioned.  “They are boys and girls who show a proficiency for becoming expert… mage hunters.”  He blanched at the last part.

            “That’s because those children weren’t orphans.”  Elisabeta had put two and two together and the Chantry was a very smelly four.  “They are the children they ripped away from their mothers, mothers who were imprisoned in the Circles of Magi.  They just waited until they were sure the children didn’t have magic themselves.  Those children just ended up in the Towers.”

            Cullen blinked at her.  “Are you sure?”

            “Do you want to see the paperwork I found?”  She’d already suspected and had begun investigating now that the towers had fallen.  The investigation was inspired by Wynne, whose son had been taken away from her only to end up in the White Spire when his magic showed, and Alistair, who didn’t even know he was the child of a mage.  She’d wondered why Eamon had chosen the Templars.  Duncan told him some of the truth.  She’d had people question Eamon quite harshly about that just a few months before.

            “I do want to see the paperwork,” Adrianna became excited.  “We might be able to help reunite families.  Some of the mages and Templars must want to know.”

            “That’s… not a bad idea,” Elisabeta admitted.  “I suspect we have more pressing matters now, but we should consider it.”

            “Speaking of pressing matters, I need your help,” Adrianna pleaded.  “I’m not the Inquisitor, you are, and an Exalted Council has been called.”

  “I know, Leliana wrote me,” Elisabeta admitted.  “That’s what spurred the fight you walked in on… as well as the one Alistair and I are having.  I can’t believe he’s supporting this.”

“I know you’d rather stay here with him, but I need you there,” Adrianna pled.

“I am the Inquisitor,” Elisabeta acknowledged.  “I’m the one who should address this.  I’ll get my things together and we’ll go.”

“We need to leave by the end of the week…”  Cullen began.

“Oh, no, we’re leaving right now, before Orlais and Teagan can do anymore damage,” Elisabeta announced.  “I just have a few things to grab.”

Two hours later, the fight amongst the bannorn raged on.  None of them realized their queen and princess were in a carriage heading towards Halamshiral.

Chapter Text

The Bannorn were still yelling at each other when Alistair realized hours had passed by and Elisabeta hadn’t returned.  He got up, without saying a word to the nobles and went to the rose gardens.  There were a couple of children running in the middle, they were children of banns who were presently shouting at each other.  His wife and their friends, however, were gone.

Rather than go back to the meeting, Alistair checked their rooms.  No one was there, nor was anyone in Elisabeta’s personal office.  There was, however, a letter sitting on her desk with his name on it.

He went to the letter and opened it.  It was Beta’s handwriting.

Alistair,

Thanks to the Bannorn and your faux uncle, I have to leave.  I’m off to clean up a mess and don’t know how it’s going to end.  I’m praying to Andraste as I go that I can make the right decisions, but I know myself.  This is going to end in violence, yet I hope that I will be able to return to you once again.

Oh, I’m taking Andie with me.  She isn’t old enough to be left behind yet and I don’t want to go without her.

You still have all of my love, no matter how angry some situations make me.

Elisabeta Cousland-Theirin

Alistair stared at the letter.  Beta had left him?  She said she had to take care of something, but didn’t say what.

To Alistair’s shame, it took him a week to realize where his wife had gone; taking their daughter with them.  It was when Fergus arrived that he realized.

“What are you doing here?”  Alistair hadn’t expected to see the teyrn.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Fergus raised an eyebrow.  “I thought you would need me here.  Doesn’t Lissa plan to go to the Exalted Council in Halamshiral.”

“The Exalted Council?”  Alistair decided he was indeed the fool that Morrigan always claimed he was.  That’s what Adrianna had come to tell her.  He knew where Teagan was, he just hadn’t realized that, as the Inquisitor, his wife would have to go.

“Yes, I’m sure Lissa’s biting at the bit to get underway,” Fergus said.  “She helped grow the organization from a little rebellious group standing up to do what’s right to what it is today.  She would hate to see anything happen to it.”

“Morrigan’s right,” Alistair sat down.  He’d never thought to utter those words.

“About what?”  Fergus pressed.

“I’m an idiot,” Alistair clarified.  “Beta left a week ago, and took Andie with her.  I… she didn’t exactly say where she had gone, just that there was something she had to take care of.”

“She probably thought it was obvious,” Fergus pointed out.

“She’s made at me,” Alistair sighed.

“Well, of course she is,” Fergus huffed.  “The Couslands and Guerrins devolved into an all-out family feud and we got rid of those… people, only for you to let one of them back.  She feels betrayed, by the way.  She said some choice things in her last letter to me.  Did you really let Teagan hold Andie?”

“I…”  Alistair stumbled.

“You don’t let a woman’s enemy hold her baby.”  Fergus thought that was obvious.  “Your personal feelings about the enemy in question don’t matter.  River would have made me a eunuch if I’d invited someone, she considers an enemy into our home.”

“I…”  Alistair groaned.  “He’s my…”  He realized that it didn’t matter.  The palace was also her home.  That’s why he’d given the ambassadorship back to Teagan, to get him out of her home.  And Teagan had gone for the Inquisition’s jugular.  Worse, what did he do in response?  He’d sent a letter to Teagan, assuring his uncle that he had his support.  He didn’t want the Inquisition destroyed, but the Bannorn had made a good argument about why they were a threat.

Things had gotten worse when he’d learned that Orlais planned to bring the Inquisition ‘into the fold’ as it were.  They were moving to seize control.  That would make things very difficult for Ferelden.  And he should have discussed the matter with Beta privately and come up with a plan together, rather than have Teagan handle the matter.

Now he had no choice.  His next action was clear.  “You’re right Fergus, I do need you.  You will be my steward until I return from Halamshiral.”  He stood, he needed to pack and to ready his horse.

“Don’t mess things up with my baby sister,” Fergus warned.  “She killed an Archdemon, you know.”

“Yes,” Alistair smiled.  “I know.”

Chapter Text

Adrianna Trevelyan-Rutherford rode into Halamshiral with Cullen and Josephine.  She’d left Bran with Elisabeta, who insisted in coming into the city in a much less conspicuous matter.  She didn’t want either the Orlesian or Fereldan Ambassadors knowing that she was there for the Exalted Council, so her presence would be kept quiet; but she would tend to their children on the way there.

The entrance into the Winter Palace was lined with Inquisition guards.  That was something of a relief, at least.  It meant the Inquisition was keeping a strong presence at the Council, even while Fereldan seemed determined to destroy it and Orlais circled it with nets.  In the palace, someone was playing that same annoying tune that Adrianna heard all over Orlais.  Really, she’d thought Orlais was a bastion of culture, but their wordless national anthem was all over the place.  The minstrels and bards were the only ones released from it.

“Another parade, another bloody negotiation,” Cullen growled to Josephine.

“Smiles everyone,” Josephine chastised them.  “We must be careful how we present ourselves.”

This was why Adrianna had neglected to tell Josephine that Elisabeta would be there.  She knew that Elisabeta had also ‘forgotten’ to send word to Josephine.  They were afraid that, for appearance's sake, Josephine would have warned the Exalted Council.

“Why did Divine Victoria call the Exalted Council?”  Cullen pressed.  He and Adrianna had discussed it.  It seemed like a betrayal to her best friend, the real Inquisitor.  “She kept Orlais from bothering us for the last two years.  She had the ability to keep Fereldan from becoming a nuisance to us as well.”

“Yes, she’s kept them away, at increasing political cost.”  Josephine obviously felt that the Chantry’s political power was more important than the Inquisition’s.  “But the Exalted Council has become necessary.”

Adrianna made a mental note to discuss Josephine’s real allegiances with Elisabeta.

Josephine eyed the Orlesians who were watching them approach.  Some eyed them speculatively, while others waved in open welcome.  “Orlais would control us.  And many of them have plans for you, Commander.  It’s amazing how many have chosen to question whether or not you are really married.  I’ve had to have copies of the marriage registry made and sent throughout all of Orlais.  I even had sketches made of your son and sent.”  She sighed.  “Orlais finds him adorable and he is receiving marriage contracts to be fulfilled when he and the tiny tots picked out for him are old enough.”

“I can tell you what to do with those marriage proposals,” Cullen growled.

“Tell them I have already set up an arranged marriage,” Adrianna declared.  “The only way he’ll get out of it is to find true love.”

“He’s only a toddler!”  Josephine was shocked.

“Exactly,” Cullen hissed at her.  “You will not make any alliances using my son, Josephine.”

“Our real concern is Ferelden,” Josephine changed the subject.  “They would have us abandoned entirely.”  She waved to wear Teagan was leaning against a railing, looking down on them from above.  Disdain and loathing mixed in his eyes.

Cullen and Adrianna exchanged a glance, neither speaking of the Fereldan they still had on their side, one who had similar feelings towards Teagan that he had for the Inquisition.

They proceeded on.

Adrianna had only been in Halamshiral for a day and was already missing her son.  She knew that Elisabeta was close behind her, but she couldn’t get there soon enough for Adrianna’s piece of mind.  She walked into the room where the Exalted Council was to take place.

The room Josephine had been built in the gardens and was not actually attached to the palace.  She wasn’t sure if it was for the protection of those in the council or for those in the palace.  A table trimmed with gold, with blue cloth draped over it sat at the far end.  There were three chairs set there, for the council members; Divine Victoria and the ambassadors.

“Lady Trevelyan,” a voice behind her started Adrianna.  She jumped and whirled to see Mother Gisselle.  “It has been too long.”

“How are you mother?”  Adrianna greeted her.

“I spent last summer in Emprise DuLeon distributing food from the Exalted Plains.  The Dales are finally recovering.”

“It seems you’re keeping busy,” Adrianna approved.  “I hope to be traveling soon myself.  I miss visiting ruins.”

“So, you plan to disband the Inquisition,” Gisselle deduced.

“It isn’t my decision,” Adrianna assured her.

“But you are the head of the Inquisition, are you not?”  Gisselle reminded her.

“Technically,” Adrianna conceded.  For now, she added silently.  She was more than anxious for the Inquisitor’s return.

“Divine Victoria asked me to greet you on her behalf,” Gisselle continued.  “She is currently attending to the Fereldan Ambassador’s concerns.”

If Leliana didn’t put a dagger in Teagan’s back or stomach, Elisabeta was going to be disappointed in her best friend when she learned about the meeting.  Adrianna knew of Lissa’s feelings for Teagan.  “I like to just call her Leliana.”

“You can, but I can’t,” Gisselle informed her.  “I prefer to use her Divine name.  Our last Divine once joked about why I insisted on calling her Divine Justinia.  She called it my way of reassuring her that I hadn’t completely forgotten who was in charge.  The Inquisition’s friends have returned as well.  You might want to see them.”  With that she left.

“I’ll see my own friends,” Elisabeta emerged from the shadows.  She had Andromeda in one arm and held Bran’s hand.  Adrianna had no idea how she’d kept the children quiet.  “You will have the unpleasant task of talking to the ambassadors.  That is if Leliana hasn’t put a dagger in Teagan for me.  She’s going to have a lot of explaining to do if she doesn’t.  I’ll tell her that Morrigan would have.”

Adrianna held out her arms and Bran came running to her.  “I doubt she will, she’s too political as Divine, sometimes.  Sure, she’ll kill anyone who gets in her way, but she’s been playing nice with the ambassadors.”

Elisabeta sighed.  “If you can’t trust your friends to kill for you, who can you?”

Adrianna grinned.  “Shale said she might show up, maybe she’ll do it for you.”

“We can only hope,” Elisabeta agreed.

Adrianna did, indeed, find Divine Victoria with Ambassador Teagan.  “Divine Victoria, am I interrupting?”  Dang, the ambassador didn’t even have a single stab wound.  Lissa wasn’t going to be happy.

“Not at all,” Leliana assured her.  “The former Arl of Redcliffe was telling me about the events in Denerim.  He represents Ferelden at the summit.”  Her voice betrayed how she felt about that and Ferelden’s betrayal of the Inquisition and its Inquisitor.

“Lady Trevelyan, good to meet you.”  Teagan’s voice gave the truth to his lie.

That’s right, she glared at him.  I helped bring down your family once and I’ll do it again.  “How are things in Redcliffe, my lord.  Oh, wait, that’s right.  You are no longer arl.  I don’t believe they will even let you back in after those human sacrifices your family committed.  If I know Fereldans, however, it was the mabari puppies that really got you into trouble.”

“Yes, I remember,” he growled.  “Reports are that things are blessedly quiet and that Redcliffe remembers its savior.  Wait, that wasn’t you, was it?”

“No, but their memories are obviously short if they are allowing this summit,” she retorted, keeping her voice sweet and her face pleasantly blank.  “I recall Lissa saying something about having also saved them during a Blight.  You seem to have forgotten that while she was temporarily dead.  Perhaps you all need more ginkgo in your diet.  I hear it does wonders for that.  Or perhaps you just need to stay off lyrium.  It can do dreadful things to the memory if taken steadily over a number of years.  Poor Cullen was lucky to avoid its long-term effects, but…”  She let the but hang in the air.  “I need to speak privately with Divine Victoria, though.  I’m sure you understand.”  Her voice was still sweet and she blinked at him for a moment as she cocked her head.  Maker, she wanted back in her ruins and studying people who were already dead.  No wonder Lissa was so fond of punching people.

“Very well,” Teagan conceded the small battlefield.  “We’ll continue this later, Your Perfection,” he told Leliana.

“I am supposed to be impartial when speaking for the Chantry,” Leliana confided, as she watched Teagan walking away.  “But I confess that neutrality is beyond me.  Well, he isn’t bleeding.  For me that is neutrality.  I can hardly ignore the fate of the Inquisition that I helped begin, either.  Maybe I should have stabbed him.”

“It would have just ruined the day of the elves who had to clean up the blood,” Adrianna assured her.  “How worried should we be?”

“I’m concerned,” Leliana admitted.  “The Inquisition is still needed.  Some of the delegates do not yet understand that.  I wish Lissa were here.  Not that you aren’t doing a great job as head of the Inquisition, it’s just…”

“You want to see her punch Teagan?”  Adrianna guessed. 

“I wrote to her,” Leliana informed her, not realizing Adrianna already knew that.  “She hasn’t responded.  Maybe she supports Teagan.  Alistair seems to.”

Adrianna just gave her a look.

“You’re right, Lissa would never support Teagan,” Leliana was sure of it.  “She told him he was an idiot within the first week of meeting him.  Isolde had insisted he go into Redcliffe Castle alone, well alone with her.  It was such an obvious trap.  When we got into the castle and found him, he was dancing for a possessed little boy… and doing a bad job of it, although his handstand was impressive.”

“Really?”  Adrianna tried to imagine it.  “Perhaps you ought to remind him of it during the Exalted Council.  Perhaps I should mention it.”  She wouldn’t have to, she had someone else who witnessed it in Halamshiral.

“I must attend to other matters,” Leliana gave her a bow.  “If you need me, I am ready to assist.  Unconditionally.”

As Leliana left, Teagan ambushed her.  “I’m glad you finally arrived, Lady Trevelyan.  The crown’s anxious for news.”

What a crock.  Still, Adrianna kept her face blank and her voice sweet, even as she knew that this entire travesty was causing a split amongst Ferelden and her crown.  “And your thoughts on Ferelden’s position.”

“The breach is long gone,” Teagan reminded her.  “Yet Skyhold remains.  Ferelden can’t continue to ignore soldiers on its borders.”

“I appreciate knowing where Ferelden stands.”  She wasn’t going to tell him that she’d already heard the Landsmeet fighting and that there was no unity in the stance he claimed.

“You are owed that, Lady Trevelyan.”  Teagan continued to act as if he had every right to speak for all of Ferelden.  “Especially here.  The Orlesians will talk circles around you before you get a simple greeting out.  I won’t keep you longer.  We’ll have words enough when the Exalted Council begins.”  He left.

Bran made a disgusted sound as the former arl strolled away.  It was the same sound his father made when he had to deal with nobles.  “Orlesians.”  His mother didn’t bother to correct him, technically he was right, and it was nice to have someone remind Teagan of it.

Oh, there would be words all right.  They just weren’t going to come from her.  She turned and began looking around, looking for anything she could find on Teagan.  She didn’t find much, not until she’d found a note from King Alistair.

Uncle Teagan,

I read your first letter. Trust Orlais to put up a fight about this now. You've been there before, so I'm not telling you anything new. Send a messenger if you need anything; I'll send someone out straight away.

Regards, King Alistair of Ferelden

Someone, presumably His Majesty, has drawn a stick figure weighed down by an oversized crown at the bottom of the page.

Adrianna glared at the letter, as if she could cause it to burst into flames.  Her twin sister probably could have, before they’d turned Desdemona into a Tranquil and she’d subsequently died in the Fade.  She would take the letter to Lissa.  It was going to cause more problems in Lissa’s marriage, but she deserved to see it.  She guessed it was a good thing they already had a daughter, because Lissa was going to make her husband a eunuch; if she didn’t outright kill him.

At least Ferelden already has an heir, she thought as went to find the Orlesian Ambassador.

Adrianna continued on to the Orlesian Ambassador.  She found him talking to Dorian.  Elisabeta was going to be so happy to see her friend from Tevinter.  Heck, she was happy to see him, too.

“Orlais is on your side, Lord Pavus,” the Orlesian Ambassador was saying.  “The Inquisition’s support is not a thing to lose lightly.”

“Which is why the Orlesians Court is circling it with a net and collar?”  Dorian challenged.  His eyes met Adrianna’s, over the ambassador’s shoulder.  “But you’ll have to excuse me!  I see an old friend I must greet.”  His eyes stayed on the ambassador’s as he passed the man.  “Lady Trevelyan!  How long has it been?  Don’t actually tell me, I despise feeling old.”

“You seem so thrilled to be at the Exalted Council,” sarcasm dripped from Adrianna’s voice. 

“Oh riveted,” he deadpanned.  “Orlais wants the Inquisition tamed, Ferelden wants it gone, the Chantry meddles, and Tevinter sends but one ambassador.  That’s me, by the way.  It is a reward for my interest in the south.”  His voice made it evident that ‘reward’ was a euphemism for ‘punishment.”

“Thankfully, Ambassador Pavus is a token appointment.  Call on me if you like.”

Adrianna’s voice lightened.  “There may be an old friend or two who are anxious to see you.  Maybe even one who is trying to avoid every ambassador, but won’t you.  An old friend who seems to be favored by a certain goddess.”

“Really?”  Now Dorian was intrigued.  “They’re in Halamshiral?  Have they seen many people?”

“They are making a point not to be seen by too many,” Adrianna assured him.

“Oh, I must go find this delicious mystery,” Dorian hurried off.

The Orlesian ambassador approached Adrianna.  “Lady Trevelyan, Duke Cyril Montfort, member of the Council of Heralds and Lord of Chateau Haine.”

“Hawke killed the previous lord, didn’t he?”  Adrianna remembered Varric telling a story about the chateau.

“Um… that is the rumor,” the ambassador confirmed.  “I have long followed your work.  It is extraordinary.”

“I’m not the Inquisitor,” Adrianna reminded him.

“Oh, I know,” Cyril assured her.  “I meant your archeological work.  Having you wasting our talents on the Inquisition when you could be exploring the ancient past is a shame.”

“Oh,” she found herself liking Cyril, even if she was circling the Inquisition with a net.  “And how does the rest of the court feel?”

Cyril laughed.  “Not all follow your true calling.  As for the Inquisition, Orlais only wished to offer respectful guidance.”

“Does Your Grace feel the Inquisition should continue to rule itself?”  She challenged.

“If they can find a decent replacement for you,” Cyril confirmed.  “Rumor is that you want to get back to work and your husband is ready to retire.  Elisabeta Cousland is unlikely to come back.  If she did, Ferelden wouldn’t be acting so boldly.  It would cause a rift in their royal couple.  I, personally, would like to see the Inquisition join us freely than be carved into chess pieces for the chessboard.”

So, Orlais meant to rule the Inquisition.  She would have to tell Elisabeta.  “I see.”

“I have not forgotten Justinia’s death,” Cyril continued.  “I had friends who perished at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  More than the good you have done; it is the good we can do together I don’t wish to lose.”

Adrianna hadn’t been there that day, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t lost anyone.  “My twin sister was in the temple that day.”

“I… had not realized,” Duke Cyril extended an arm to her and gestured towards a nearby bench.  “Tell me about her.”

Chapter Text

Elisabeta thought that a simple dark cloak was a ridiculous disguise.  She had meant to have Andromeda in a sling under the cloak, but her daughter her protested at being stifled and was now cradled against her shoulder, looking around Halamshiral with fascination.  Of course, the ridiculousness of the disguise was why it worked.  No one in Orlais expected someone of note to be walking around, trying to conceal their presence.  No, the overly dressed, self-important peacocks, also known as Orlesians, wanted to be noticed.  She was saving the announcement of her presence for when it would shock and dismay certain council members and their ilk. 

She looked up at where Adrianna was talking with Leliana and Teagan.  The ambassador wasn’t even bleeding!  Could she no longer trust her best friend to even do that for her?  The Chantry was truly ruining Leliana.  First, her friend had been turned into Sister Stabbity Stab Kill Kill by Divine Justinia and now she wouldn’t kill anyone, not even Teagan Guerrin.  

Shaking her head, Elisabeta moved on.  She soon found Varric arguing with a man with a Free-Marcher accent whose clothes were even stiffer than him, and that was saying a lot.  “The Prince of Starkhaven wrote to you again,” he was telling Varric.

She had met the Prince of Starkhaven.  They hadn’t gotten on well.  He was pompous, self-righteous, and hated mages.  He’d also tried to put sanctions on Ferelden.  That hadn’t gone well.

“Of course, he did,” Varric’s tone indicated he had just a little more patience for the prince than she did.  “Just put that one in the pile with the letters from the Merchant’s Guild.”

“And the Captain of the Guard had a very… colorful message for me to deliver to you as well,” the stiff man continued.

Varric’s eyes widened as he saw Elisabeta.  “Inquisitor!  Andraste’s Ass am I glad to see you!”

“I guess my disguise isn’t as good as I thought it was,” Elisabeta grumbled.

“No, it is,” Varric assured her.  “I know you, though.  Is this the Little Princess?”  He gently took Andromeda and bounced her. 

Andie cooed at him in response and patted his chest hair.  She then cooed at the chest hair.  Elisabeta couldn’t blame her, the chest hair made her want to coo, too.

“This is a disguise of some sort?”  The stiff man looked her up and down.  “Wait, don’t I know you?”

“No,” she assured him.  “We’ve never met and there is no reason you’d know me.”

“But the Viscount called you ‘Inquisitor’,” the stiff man argued.  “You aren’t Adrianna Trevelyan-Rutherford.  I’ve seen her before.”

“So, have I,” Elisabeta revealed.  “She’s a great woman, isn’t she?  She’s around here somewhere, you should go find her.”

“This is Bran Cavin,” Varric introduced them.  “Until recently, he was the viscount…”

“Provisional Viscount,” Bran quickly corrected.

“… of Kirkwall,” Varric finished.

“And what are you doing now?”  Elisabeta wondered.

“I have resumed my post as seneschal now that Master Tethras has been elected viscount,” Bran declared.

Elisabeta had seen a report that Varric was now viscount, but she’d doubted the news and had meant to write him herself.  Then the entire Exalted Council stuff had started.  “I thought the reports that you were viscount were a joke.  Not that I don’t believe you could do a good job, I think you’ll be wonderful.  It’s just… how did it happen?”

“Why would you receive reports?”  Bran narrowed his eyes at her.

She shrugged.  “I’m a very nosy person.”

Andromeda babbled in agreement and grabbed onto Varric’s chest hair.  The dwarf grimaced, but didn’t try to loosen her grip.  He was having too much fun with her.

“Viscount, do you want me to help you with that?”  Bran waved vaguely at the baby.

“No, I don’t think you could help me with infants.  If I want one of my own, I’ll let you know,” Varric assured him.  “For now, I’m just going to be fun-loving Uncle Varric.”

“Well, it seems the two of you have a great deal to discuss.  Why don’t I leave you to it?”  Bran turned to leave.  He looked at Elisabeta again.  “Are you sure I shouldn’t know who you are?”

“If you figure it out, she’ll have to kill you,” Varric warned.  “It’s best if you go and forget you ever saw her.”

“He’s right,” Elisabeta agreed.  “I would have to kill you and I don’t know you well enough to feel bad about it later.”

“As you like,” Bran walked away.

“So,” Varric’s lips quirked.  “It turns out, you fund enough reconstruction efforts in a city-state, the nobles give you the worst job they can think of.”

“You’ll be a great viscount,” Elisabeta assured him.

“I hate it,” Varric grumbled.

“That’s one of the reasons you’re suited for it,” Elisabeta assured him.  “I’ve found those who fight to get power are the ones who shouldn’t have it.  You should have seen what Loghain did to get power and then he just wanted more.”

“Being Viscount of Kirkwall isn’t as big of a deal as everything Loghain wanted,” Varric assured her.  “I have a really pointy crown that I wouldn’t be caught wearing, but that’s it.  Speaking of which, where is your crown, Your Highness?”

“I left it in Denerim,” she assured him.

“Along with your husband?”  His voice was gentle, but pointed.

She sighed.  “Yes.  He… I… it’s a bit of a mess.”

“I can imagine, he’s trying to get rid of an organization that you helped found,” Varric moved to pat her back, but found he couldn’t with the grip Andromeda had on his chest hair.

“The Bannorn is split,” she reported.  “Part of me is sure it was Teagan who convinced him that the Inquisition is a danger.”

“Like Teagan isn’t a danger,” Varric muttered.  “Anyway, the nobles voted me in because I got the harbor and businesses up and running.  They want shit…”  He stopped and glanced down at the baby in his arms.  “… stuff fixed, and I can do that.  I was hoping I’d see you here at the summit, and before it got underway, I brought a present for you; sort of.”

“You knew I’d be here?”  She was surprised.

“I suspected and hoped so,” he assured her.  He shifted his grip on Andromeda so he could hand her something.  “It’s official recognition of your title and holdings in Kirkwall.  Congratulations, you can add Comtesse to all of your other titles.  I know it isn’t as glorious as queen, but it adds to your very long list of titles.”

Elisabeta lifted the object.  It was a regular key, one that opened a door somewhere.

Bran rushed to them.  “You can’t actually do that without…”

“Too late!”  Varric bounced Andromeda gently.  “Already did it!”  He turned back to Elisabeta.  “You should stop by Hightown some time to see your estate.  It’s pretty nice, for Kirkwall, anyway.”

“Proper disposition of empty estates is supposed to…”  Bran was still objecting.

“You were leaving us to talk, remember?”  Varric gave him a sidelong look.

Bran sighed and walked away, muttering about procedure and giving estates to foreign dignitaries.  There was something about Ferelden’s enemies.

“What brought this on?”  Elisabeta wondered.  “I know I’m fighting with Alistair, but I didn’t need… then again, it would be nice to be able to sneak off to Kirkwall and get away from the Landsmeet.”

“What kind of viscount would I be if I didn’t abuse my position to give sh… stuff to my friends?  I’ve got traditions to uphold!”  He insisted.

“Then I should make you a bann at the very least,” she decided.  “Maybe an arl.  Redcliffe may be available soon if Teagan’s replacement can’t keep the other Guerrins out.”

“No, thank you, I’d rather be the giver than the receiver,” Varric insisted.  “Oh, that reminds me.”  He reached into his pocket and produced a very large jeweled key, which he gave Elisabeta.  “It’s the Key to the City.”

Bran came charging up to them again.  “You can’t give that away without approval from the Council and a special ceremony!  It’s…”

“It’s just symbolic anyway,” Varric assured him.

“It controls one of the giant chain nets in the harbor,” Bran revealed.

“Really?”  Varric grinned.  “That… is so much better than I thought.”

“This controls the giant chains?”  Elisabeta eyed the jeweled key with renewed interest.  “I have to try it out.”  Alistair would have so much fun playing with the chains, as soon as they made up.

“Please, don’t give anything else away,” Bran begged.

“I don’t know how this council is going to go and I know it’s caused problems in your marriage,” Varric’s voice was now sober.  “But whatever gets decided, you’ve got a place lined up in Kirkwall if you want it.  Also… control of the harbor, I guess.  I guess that means that Ferelden is now our main trading partner.”

“Yes, it does,” she grinned at the key.  It’s a good thing Highever and Kirkwall are so close.”

“Anyway, you should go meet with the diplomats,” he told her.  “We’ll get in a game of Wicked Grace before any of us go back to our other duties, though, right?”

“We will,” she assured him.  “But I’m not meeting with the diplomats.  Poor Addie has to do that.  I… I don’t want them to know I’m here.  If they do find out, I’ll have to assume it was Bran who told me, since you wouldn’t, and then I’d have to kill him and you’ll have to find a new seneschal.”

Bran noticeably gulped.

“I’ll keep reminding him,” Varric promised.  He handed Andromeda back to her.

“Don’t bet any public buildings when you play Wicked Grace this time,” Bran ordered. 

Varric just laughed.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta had only left Varric ten minutes before she encountered another old friend.  Thom Reiner was standing in front of a target and throwing knives at it.  He sucked.  Andromeda could do better, if her mother ever let her near a knife; which she wouldn’t for several more years.

            She moved quietly behind him.  Andromeda remained quiet, her little rogue in training.  She flung the knife past Thom’s ear and to the center of the target.

            He whirled around and stared at her.  “Lissa!”

            “Your aim is atrocious,” she informed him.  “I’m embarrassed for you.” 

            “I didn’t think you were going to come,” he informed her. 

            “You thought I wouldn’t show for the Exalted Council, so you decided to make Halamshiral a pile of rubble?”  Elisabeta questioned.  “Not that I mind, I’m not fond of the Winter Palace.  Right now, I’m back to not being very fond of any Orlesians.”

            “I thought Ferelden wanted…”  He began.

            “I’m not very fond of half of the Landsmeet, either, right now,” she cut him off.

            “The palace is too fancy,” he agreed.

            “I see you survived the Joining,” she changed the subject.

            “How do you know?”  He questioned.

            “You’re still alive,” she pointed out.  “I was the only one who survived my Joining.  It was… difficult.”

            “I wasn’t prepared to see someone die like that,” he agreed.  He sat back and told her about his own Joining

            “I’m not sure what is going on in Weisshaupt, but there is trouble,” Blackwall confided.

            “I have been trying to avoid Weisshaupt itself,” Elisabeta admitted.  “I… I’ve never been, except that one time in the Fade.  It was too far away when Alistair and I found ourselves as the last two Wardens in Ferelden in the middle of a Blight.  Then I died, killing the archdemon, and was no longer a Grey Warden when I came back.”

            “When you go back to Denerim, you might want to use your power to find out what is going on,” he advised.

            After leaving Thom, Elisabeta made her way to the tavern.  She was hesitant to go in, but she knew many of her friends would be there.  “What do you say Andie?”  She asked her daughter.  “Should we chance it?”

            Andromeda babbled at her.

            “You’re right, neither Orlais nor Ferelden’s ambassadors would be in there,” she responded.  “They’re busy making Addie’s life difficult.” 

            Sure enough, Cole was outside of the tavern talking some Orlesian into giving up his seat, by telling him about some merchant who had gems that matched his eyes.  Then he put bread on the Orlesian’s table to attract birds.  Luckily, the Orlesian had already left.

            She went to move pass Cole.

            “He had analyzed the attack patterns and there was a danger,” Cole told her.  “But his commander refused to leave, so he could not escape either.”

            “Poor guy,” Elisabeta patted his arm.

            “Why hi there handsome,” Maryden slipped her arm through Cole’s.  “How are you doing?”

            Elisabeta was confused for a moment.  She thought Maryden had something going with Krem.  She reminded herself that it was none of her business and went inside the tavern.

            She was greeted by Sera.  “You’re here!  I owe Red Jenny an apology.  He said you were coming, but I didn’t believe him.”

            “People already know I’m coming?”  Elisabeta found that disheartening.

            “Only people, people,” Sera assured her.  “The nobs don’t have a clue.  They only know that you and Alistair are fighting.  Are you going to be O.K.?  If I’d known earlier that you were coming, I would have had my other friends come.  When I heard you’d left the king, we decided you should become one of us.”

            Left the king.  Just the phrase caused Elisabeta’s chest to compress and her heart to speed up.  No.  This was fight, but she wasn’t leaving her husband.  She’d just had other things to take care of, some of which was his fault.  He knew she’d never leave him, didn’t he?  Did she?

            “I’m a little too recognizable to be a Jenny,” she pointed out.  “Plus,” she lifted Andromeda.  “I have other responsibilities right now.”

            Sera waved that off.  “Several Jennies have children.  Still, if you’re sure you’re going back to Denerim.”

            “It’s my home,” Elisabeta assured her.

            “Skyhold is your home,” Sera disagreed.  “As you told that bitch Vivienne.  It’s your castle.”

            “True,” she agreed.  “No matter what happens here, it will still be my castle and my home as well.”

            As Sera and Elisabeta talked, the Chargers came and pulled her away.

            “We need a favor,” Krem informed her.

            “How did you even know I was here?”  Elisabeta wanted to know.  She was supposed to be incognito.

            “The Boss predicted it,” Krem explained.  “He said that you love your king, but you aren’t going to put up with his shit.”

            So, she was predictable?  She didn’t like that.  “It… it isn’t just him.”  She sighed.  “Half the Landsmeet wants to see the Inquisition dissolved, those ungrateful prats.  After all we’ve done for them…  I wonder if I could have the Archdemon and Corypheus both resurrected and sic them on their lands.”

            “I don’t think it would be a good idea to bring them back,” Krem assured her. 

            “No,” she conceded.  “I’d have to kill them again and killing the Archdemon also killed me.  I don’t want to do that again.”

            “I doubt Andraste would resurrect you again,” Krem agreed.  “Anyway, about that favor…”

            “Of course, sorry,” she blanched.  She’d forgotten he’d asked her for a favor.  “Wait… why wouldn’t Andraste resurrect me again?  She loves me.”

            “I’m sure she does, as she loves all the Maker’s children.  That doesn’t mean you get to be brought back willy nilly.  I just need you to distract the Boss,” Krem explained.  “It’s his birthday and the boys and I are trying to sneak in his gift.”

            “Do Qunari have birthdays?”  She wondered.  She didn’t think they even knew when their days of birth were.  No one even bothered to name them when born.  Did they assign them a number and record the date somewhere?

            “Trust me,” Krem said.  “It’s his birthday.”

            “Fine,” she went to Bull and sat down beside him.   “I heard you knew I was coming.”

            “I know you, Boss,” Bull grinned at Andromeda and let her grab his finger.  “Do you mind?”  He held out his arms, indicating he wanted to hold the baby.

            “Go ahead,” Elisabeta passed Andromeda over.

            Bull bounced her gently and made a face that caused the little princess to squeal in delight.  He glanced back at Elisabeta.  “Don’t worry, neither of the ambassadors know you well enough to even suspect that you will show up.”

            “Even Teagan?”  She wondered.  “I met him during the Blight, you know.”

            Bull laughed.  “Especially Teagan.  Have you noticed how much he looks like the Mayor of Crestwood?  I wonder if they’re related.”

            “They could be,” she admitted.  “Although, he’s really Orlesian and I’m not aware of the mayor having an Orlesian blood.”

            “You never know,” Bull continued to play with Andromeda.  “Ferelden was occupied for years.”

            “True,” she conceded.  “You’d think the Cheese Munchers would be thrilled to have someone who’s really an Orlesian as their Ambassador from Ferelden.”

            “They’re secretly thrilled,” he assured her.  “But they don’t want to let on.  And they’re more than thrilled that he’s making Ferelden look like the bad guy in their mutual attacks on the Inquisition.”

            “I thought Celene was a friend,” she admitted.  “Not my best friend, but a friend, none the less.”

            “Considering how she’s treated her Beloved Marquese in the past, she may still think of you as a good friend,” Bull pointed out.

            Elisabeta nodded.  “Still, with friends like that, who needs enemies?”

            “Oh, you still have plenty of those,” he assured her.

            “Thanks, I think I’ll order a drink,” she decided.

            She was still nursing a glass of wine and talking about her marital problems, most of which had been caused by the Exalted Council, when the Chargers showed up.

            “Surprise!”  Krem happily exclaimed.

            “Oh, guys, you got me!”  Bull winked at Elisabeta.

Chapter Text

            Elisabeta found her room, not something that was easy to do when few knew she was there.  The servants only knew she was a visiting Fereldan dignitary, which explained why the rooms were not as nice as they had been her previous visit.

            She changed Adrianna and quickly washed, before re-donning the cloak that was supposed to be giving her some anonymity and went to find her friends again.  It didn’t take long.  They were gathered in the gardens around a set of couches and a table.

            “As the most eloquent dwarf you know, Sparkles…”  Varric was saying.

            “Speech!  Speech!”  Sera raised her glass.  “Way too much speech!”

            “Varric, there’s really no need,” Dorian assured him.

            “What’s going on?”  Elisabeta wanted to know.  Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought her daughter, but she’d neglected to pack the nanny.

            “Lissa!”  Varric greeted her.  “You’re just in time.  Sparkles, the Imperium doesn’t deserve you.  Or want you.  It may even kill you.  But we’ll miss you, if it counts.”

            Elisabeta turned to give Dorian a long look.  He looked away for a moment and then back at her.  He looked guilty.  Then he looked back at Varric.

            “Aaaand you didn’t know,” Varric’s voice dropped.  “Ok, folks!  Time to take the party elsewhere.”  He turned and most of her friends followed.

            Great, now she was a party pooper.  She set down a blanket and set Andromeda on it.  Andromeda pushed up to her hands and knees and began rocking.  Then she got back down on her stomach and began scooching forward.  She was heading for a passed-out Iron Bull.  She was awfully fond of the Qunari.

            The Iron Bull snored, even when Andromeda put a hand on his nose and squeezed.  “Tama… wanted… I… didn’t give…”

            “Err…”  Varric appeared again behind her, apparently realizing he was missing someone.  “Leave him.”

            Andromeda pushed herself up on her arms, her hands still on the Iron Bull’s face and babbled happily at Varric.  She seemed to be telling him to leave her friend with her.  Then she put her hand on Bull’s mouth and giggled when he snored again.

            Dorian watched the pair for a moment and then turned dramatically walking towards a nearby statue.  Elisabeta followed, while still keeping half an eye on her daughter.  “Dorian?”

            “It’s true,” Dorian admitted.  “When the Exalted Council ends, I’m going back to Tevinter… for good, this time.”  He turned to look at her.

            “You know I’ll miss you,” she would.  “I missed you the last time I closed the rifts and you weren’t there.  You… only a few others know I was… changed… when I came back.  I’ve depended on you to help me learn how to control the … extra gift… Andraste sent me back with.”

            “You’ll still have Anders and Solona to help you with that,” he assured her.  “Why haven’t I seen them?”

            “As far as I know, they’re still in Kirkwall,” she told him.  “I should have asked Varric.  I think I will next time I see him.”

            “I thought Solona was your court enchanter,” he reminded her. 

            “No, that would be Fiona,” Elisabeta assured him.  She hadn’t seen her since Andromeda’s birth, though.  She hadn’t seen Fiona in a few months either.  She would have thought Teagan had done something to her, but she was taking care of business with the College of Enchanters.  Someone had been trying to re-establish the Mage Circles and Fiona had gone to stop them.  Elisabeta would have suspected Vivienne if Fiona hadn’t killed her.  “They went back to check on Hawke’s siblings.  Carver said something was wrong with the Grey Wardens.”

            “‘Something’s wrong’ should be Thedas’ motto,” Dorian decided.

            “It should be,” she agreed.  “I’ve already had to deal with a Blight and an arch-darkspawn who wanted to be a god.  Now this!  I’m going to miss you.”

            “Naturally,” Dorian gave her a little smile.  The smile faded.  “My father is dead.  He was assassinated, I believe.  I received notice just this morning.  It was a perversely cheerful letter congratulating me on assuming his seat in the Magisterium.  We only met a few times while I was home.  He didn’t say anything about keeping me as his heir.  This ‘ambassadorship’… his doing, I’m told.  He must have wanted me away when the trouble began.  I have to go back.”

            “I understand.”  She truly did.  “If my father could have sent me away before… Howe… he would have.  He insisted I leave the castle, when all I wanted to do was protect him and my mother.  When I refused, he let Duncan carry me out of the castle.”

            “You… he carried you?”  Dorian was surprised.

            “Right over his shoulder, like a sack of flour,” she confirmed.  “I know you and your father didn’t always get along, but he did love you.  That I have no doubt of.  So… you’ll truly be a magister?”  She could now call him one, like an epitaph. 

            “Oh, yes,” Dorian crossed his arms and cocked his head.  “I can’t wait to degrade the Magisterium with my presence!  A new outfit is required.”

            “We should go shopping,” she agreed.  “It will have to be something outrageous.”

            “Agreed,” he put an arm around her.  “Are you sure she isn’t going to hurt Bull?”  He pointed to where Andromeda had just put a finger up Bull’s nose.

            “Andie, don’t get Qun buggers on your fingers!”  She tried to command her daughter.  It did no good, so she went back to Dorian’s problem.  “And then what?”

            “I find my father’s killers and kill them back.  That’s what you did, isn’t it?”  He recalled.  “Then I find those giving Tevinter a bad name and kill them.  You did that as well, didn’t you?”

            “I did,” she confirmed.  “They turned out to be the same people.”

            “I suspect it will be the same case for me,” he confided.  “That should make it easier.”

            “It does,” she assured him.  “You’ll need help.  I could go with you.”

            Dorian gave a little laugh.  “That wouldn’t make your husband very happy.  Coming here is understandable, going to Tevinter with me will only cause him to chase you and try to drag you back home.  Even if you make it an official royal visit, it would be impractical.  I won’t be entirely without support.  Maeveris has gathered other magisters who feel as we do.  We’ll be an actual faction in the Magisterium.  I’ll teach them manners.  Take them shopping.  It’ll be fun!”

            “Now you’re just trying to make me jealous,” she accused.

            “We’ll go shopping before you return to the loving embrace of your husband,” he assured her.  “This all still doesn’t feel real.  When did it finally… when did that change for you?”

            “It hasn’t completely,” she admitted.  “It’s a day-to-day thing.  Sometimes I think he’s just back in Highever, then I remember he isn’t.   There are less days like that, but they’re still there once and awhile.  I still have flashes of anger that he was taken away from me too soon.  Those also get less.  I’ve accepted it, but I’ll never be completely alright with it.  I do wish you safe travels and the best of luck.  If you ever need my help, please write.”

            “Oh, I’ll need that luck, thank you.”  He uncrossed his arms.  “Magisters are tricky bastards.  As for writing,” he handed her a crystal.  “I have a present for you, it’s a going away present.  It’s a sending crystal; amazing what friendship with the Inquisition gives you access to.  If I get in over my head, or you’re overwhelmed with sorrow for lack of my velvety voice… magic!  What…”  He gave a faux shocked gasp at the surprise on her face.  “You didn’t think I would just leave and you’d never hear from me again, did you?  You are my dearest friend, perhaps my only friend.  That will never change, no matter where we are.”

            “What about Bull?”  She looked back at the Qunari in question.  He muttered and tried to move his head away from Adrianna’s questing fingers.  That caused the baby to give a little protesting cry and he moved his face back.  He muttered something, but Elisabeta wasn’t sure what it was.

            “He wanted to come with me,” Dorian confirmed.  “He almost tried to insist on it.  But a Qunari in the middle of Tevinter…”  He sighed.  “It would cause too many complications.  I… I couldn’t keep him safe.”

            “What will you two do?”  She continued to watch her daughter play with the passed-out man in question. 

            “We’ll still try to make things work,” Dorian assured her.  “I’m not giving him up.  Now, let’s finish the good wine before the others get back.”

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found Cassandra on the edge of a balcony overlooking the fields of Halamshiral.  It was a nice view.  She was still cloaked, but Adrianna was now asleep on her shoulder.  Playing with a drunken Iron Bull had tuckered her daughter out.

The Seeker jumped when Elisabeta was a mere foot behind her.  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Elisabeta assured her.

“Lissa!”  Cassandra was obviously surprised.  “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to know how things were going with your efforts to rebuild the Seekers,” she assured her friend.

“You could have just written to find that out,” Cassandra pointed out.  “But, you’re here in Halamshiral.”

“I am,” Elisabeta confirmed the obvious.

“Does Addie know?”  Cassandra still hasn’t answered how things were going.

“She does,” Elisabeta confirmed.  “I brought Bran back to her.  Plus, she is the one who came and got me in Denerim.  I’d barely received news of this council from Leliana before Addie and Cullen arrived.  They seem to have known me well enough to know I’d want to be here.”

“And Leliana?”  Cassandra pressed.

“She still doesn’t know,” Elisabeta admitted.  “I plan to surprise her and the ambassadors.”

“They’ll certainly be surprised,” Cassandra agreed.  “I’m guessing you want it to be a surprise that will knock them off balance.”

“It’s nice when my friends know me so well,” Elisabeta smiled.  “Now, how are your efforts to rebuild the Seekers going.”

“It could be better, but it could also be a lot worse,” Cassandra decided.  “I had everyone read the book that I got from the Lord Seeker, the history.  Many were as outraged as I was.  Some have left permanently.  Others have joined me in building the Seekers back up, to be something better.”

“That’s… good,” Elisabeta decided.

“It is,” Cassandra looked around and found a bench.  “We’re not what we once were, but that’s good.  What we were was flawed and built on a lie.  Now we can be what the Seekers should have been.  Our numbers are reduced, but that will change some day.  We will be upfront and our knowledge will be available to the public.  Never again will someone be made tranquil without a chance to restore who they are.  Never again will we be used to oppress another people.”

“That’s good,” Elisabeta sat down and began gently rocking Andromeda.

“Did you really leave your husband?”  Cassandra’s voice quaked again.

“I… not exactly,” Elisabeta insisted.  “I plan to go back home after this, even if Varric did offer me an estate in Highever if I didn’t want to return to Denerim.  Alistair and I are having problems, but I love him.  I… I admit I need to work through a few things, like him being the fool Morrigan always accused him of being.  As I told her all those years ago, he’s my fool.”

“But you didn’t bring him with you.”  It obviously bothered Cassandra.  “You just… left…  your husband.”

“I have things I have to deal with,” Elisabeta asserted.

“Still… follow your heart.  It will always take you back to where you should be… and it isn’t Kirkwall.”

“I’m not sure anyone should be in Kirkwall,” Elisabeta grumbled.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement and someone she hadn’t expected to be there.  Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be there either.  “It appears some have managed to get out of Kirkwall.”

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed.  “I’ve already spoken with Varric.  He… I can’t believe they made him a viscount!  I was hoping he’d come back to Skyhold.”

“So, was I,” Elisabeta admitted.

“Was Kirkwall too much of a hellhole for you?”  Elisabeta stood in front of Solona and Anders.

“We left there a few months ago when we heard about the attempt to reestablish the Mage Circles,” Anders informed her.  “Fiona would have come here, but she insisted she had to have a word or two with the King of Ferelden when she heard about the Exalted Council.  “Solona and I came, though.  We thought you might need us.”

“I suspect I will,” Elisabeta admitted.  She was sorry she was going to miss Fiona’s return to Denerim.  She was sure Alistair’s mother was going to have some very choice words for him when they were finally in private.  The rest of the court didn’t know of Alistair and Fiona’s relationship, but that wouldn’t keep Fiona from speaking.  From what she’d learned of Fiona’s relationship with King Maric she was never impressed with his titles and more than willing to tell him how she felt.

“Plus, we plan to sit in the back as the council takes place and heckle the ambassadors,” Solona admitted.

“As well as the Divine,” Anders added.

“Leliana is a little more… aggressive… than most of the Chantry people you’ve dealt with,” Elisabeta reminded him.

“Sure, she’s quick with a dagger,” Anders shrugged.  “But has she ever blown up a chantry?  I’m scarier.  Just having me there will probably make her aids cry.”

Elisabeta had to admit he was right.  She imagined the ambassadors would be nervous, as well.  Plus, if there was trouble, she’d want to have a healer with her.  She would also want one if there was trouble.  She didn’t expect things to go awry and get violent, but they always did.  “It’s going to be great to have you guys around.”

“Oh, we’re not alone,” Solona smiled.  “Garrette is around here somewhere, as are Fenris and his fiancée, Lavellan.  Oh, and Isabela.  They are all off getting drunk somewhere.”

“Oh?  I didn’t see them in the tavern.”  Elisabeta thought back.  No, there was no way anyone would miss Hawke, especially if he had Isabela with him.

“The tavern would have been too tame,” Anders assured her.  “They’re probably in the middle of the ballroom.  Fenris will be encouraging any servants who try to stop them to free themselves.”

“They aren’t slaves,” Elisabeta pointed out.

“They are trapped working for Orlesian royalty,” Anders reminded her.  “They might as well be.”

“Sera believes there is something wrong with the servants,” Elisabeta confided.  “She told me that none of them have asked for a Jenny and, for some reason, that is a bad thing.”

“The servants are all happy?”  Solona repeated.  “Servants in Orlais are all happy?  Have you gotten a load of the Orlesian nobles?  She’s right, something isn’t right there.”

“We’ll have Fenris look into it,” Anders decided.  “They’ll talk to him.”

“He seemed awfully… broody… when I met him,” Elisabeta recalled.

“That’s one of the things the servants like about him,” Anders assured her.  “Especially the women.  Varric once told him that the women who met him went on to have broody babies in his honor.”

“I always liked a sense of humor,” Elisabeta commented.

“So, did I,” Solona affirmed.  “But I’ve spent enough time in Fenris’ company to appreciate the appeal.  There’s just something about the way he broods.”

“Is there?”  Ander’s eyebrows raised.

Solona laughed.  “That doesn’t mean I don’t still prefer my man with a sense of humor.  I’m so glad we got rid of Justice, so that sense of humor returned.  Although, he helped you develop enough brood to keep things interesting.  From what Varric and Hawke told me, you went for a decade being overly angsty.”

“You like my angst,” Anders insisted.

“Yes, I do,” Solona kissed his nose.

Chapter Text

Fireworks burst outside of Elisabeta’s room as she slept.  Andromeda was in a large cradle by her bed.  She’d fallen asleep listening to her daughter’s soft snores.

Elisabeta found herself in a familiar green field with a babbling stream running through it.  She hadn’t been there since she was pregnant with Andromeda.  Sure enough, a familiar blonde was sitting by the stream.  There was a bird beside her and they seemed to be speaking to each other.  “My lady,” Elisabeta curtsied deep.

“Hello, my child,” Andraste greeted her.  “So, you’ve found yourself back in Halamshiral.”

“They want to destroy the Inquisition,” Elisabeta sat down beside her.

“I know,” the goddess’ voice was gentle.  “And you brought your daughter with you.  You named her… almost… after me.”

“I thought naming her Andraste was a bit sacrilegious,” Elisabeta admitted.

“With as many times as people invoke my name and various body parts, I don’t blame you,” Andraste assured her.  “People have cursed my breasts!  Do you know how it feels to have people shouting Andraste’s Tits!  Really, it’s so blasphemous… and personal.  I like Andromeda.  I didn’t bring you back here to discuss your daughter, though.”

“Is it my husband?”  Elisabeta wondered.  How many people had accused her that day of leaving Alistair?

“I’m dealing with him in my own way,” Andraste assured her.  “No, this concerns Halamshiral.  You were right that trouble is brewing.”

“Of course,” Elisabeta cursed silently.  She would have cursed out loud, but she was in the presence of a goddess. 

“Do not be afraid, for I am with you,” the goddess assured her.  “As for the Inquisition…” She reached out and moved a piece of Elisabeta’s hair.  “I brought you back to stop Corypheus and bring peace to Thedas.  The Inquisition was merely a tool to do that.”

“It can still do a lot of good,” Elisabeta insisted.

“It is not where your heart is,” Andraste countered.  “Your heart is with hearth and home.  Yes, Skyhold is yours and I’ll discuss with you later how to keep it as yours, but you have so much more to do.  You never wanted to be a Grey Warden.  You became one only because you were given no other choice.  You were raised to be a Teyrna and had that taken from you.  You know what it is that you do want.  Fight for that, after you save Thedas again.”

“Again!”  Elisabeta drew in a breath.  Couldn’t Thedas just stay saved?

“Yes,” Andraste gave a little chuckle.  “We must always stay vigilant, my child.  For evil never sleeps, it merely waits.  Your enemies have already begun to move against you and I don’t mean the spoiled ambassadors who would destroy what you built.  They can’t touch what really matters to you, but these others can.”

“Who are they?”  Elisabeta wanted to know.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Andraste assured her.  “Call Morrigan in if you can, I’m afraid she will never listen to me.”

“What of her mother?”  Elisabeta had a complicated relationship with Flemeth or was that Mythal?  Whoever, she knew she kept tabs on Morrigan.

“Perhaps you should ask your sword, you did dip it in the Well of Sorrows,” Andraste reminded her.  “If you were going to find her, it would tell you where to do so.  Yes, the voices speak to you, but they were Mythal’s priests and the well carried a geis in it.  You can use the sword to find Mythal.  Still, you’ll need Morrigan to take care of… another matter.  Do not mistake me and think she can take care of this evil on her own.  Just know that her presence will help.”

“Should I go now?”  Elisabeta didn’t want to leave the Exalted Council yet.

“No!”  Andraste assured her.  “You are needed here.  You have a big day tomorrow and a grand entrance to make.  Varric is betting even now that Teagan will soil himself.  He’s going to make plenty of coin.  Encourage him to spend more time with Cassandra, will you?  Neither of them will admit how much they missed the other.”

“Varric and Cassandra?”  Elisabeta thought back to what she’d seen of their relationship.  There was definitely something there.  She wasn’t sure what emotions were involved, but they were definitely intense.

“With the help of the Maker, things will end as they should between them,” Andraste assured her.  “Write to your friend, Morrigan in the morning.  You know where she is.”

“Yes, I do,” Elisabeta admitted.  Well, she didn’t quite know where Morrigan was, but she had a good idea.  She’d need Varric’s help with it.  There was no way she’d ask Leliana, not for that.  “So, you need me here because of Varric and Cassandra?”

Andraste let out a long sigh.  “If it were only that.  No, you’ll see.”

Chapter Text

The Exalted Council met in the same room where Mother Gisselle had greeted Adrianna.  Now three people sat at the head of the room; Divine Victoria and the ambassadors from Orlais and Ferelden.  They were on a raised dais, looking down upon the rest of the room.

            A long wooden table was set in front of them with two chairs facing them.  The table was no raised and the two people at it, Adrianna Trevelyan-Rutherford and Josephine Montilyet, didn’t miss the significance of the height difference.

            None of those gathered in the room missed the symbolism.  Some wondered what the Inquisition had done to appear as if they were on trial.  A few also wondered why Adrianna had glanced at the door a few times.  Others thought she was planning some sort of escape, that’s what they would have done in her place.

            There were many people gathered in that room.  The audience included the Champion of Kirkwall, his girlfriend, and their friends.  They had brough bowls of peanuts and were popping them into their mouths as they watched the proceedings.

            “Thank you, Your Holiness,” Josephine was saying.  “Now, Arl Teagan, as to your concerns…”

            Teagan didn’t let her finish her sentence.  “The Inquisition established an armed presence in Ferelden Territory.  You outright seized Caer Bronach in Crestwood!”

            “It was full of bandits!”  Adrianna’s voice rose.

            “Maybe the Inquisition should give it back to the bandits,” Hawke suggested.

            “It would teach Ferelden a lesson about being nicer,” Isabela agreed.

            “Do not raise your voice at me, lady,” Teagan reprimanded her.  “Your help was appreciated two years ago, Inquisitor.  Now order is restored, yet you remain.”  He ignored the look Leliana was giving him and leaned forward.  “Invading under pretext of restoring order is exactly what the Grey Wardens did to us centuries ago and we exiled them!  Now the Inquisition is doing the same thing, with Grey Wardens in their ranks!”

            The doors swung open and most of those watching the council gasped.

            “That is not why the Grey Wardens were exiled from Fereldan centuries ago, you Orlesian Cheese poncer!”  Elisabeta marched in, Andromeda on her shoulder, as the audience gasped again.  “They were exiled, because they stood up to a despot!  And they were welcomed back by King Maric.  It’s a good thing they were, as darkspawn attacked just a generation later.   You might remember the darkspawn, Teagan, although both you and Eamon failed to show up at Ostagar when your king summoned you.  When the two Wardens who survived Ostagar, only through divine intervention, made their way to Redcliffe to seek help, where were you again?”  Technically, it was divine intervention that had saved Alistair and her.  Flemeth had rescued them from the top of the Tower of Ishal and she turned out to be the Elven goddess, Mythal.

            “Li… Eli… Your Maj…”  Teagan stumbled.  “What are you doing here?”

            “I am the Inquisitor,” she reminded him.  “Adrianna is merely the steward of the Inquisition in my absence.  Now, I will ask you again, and I want you to answer in front of everyone, where you were when the two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden during the Fifth Blight arrived in Redcliffe.”

            “That hardly matters in the matter before us today,” Teagan insisted.

            “But it does,” Elisabeta assured him.  “You were the one who just bad mouthed the Grey Wardens, who are the only people who can stop a Blight.  Shall I tell them where you were?  Were you fighting the darkspawn?”

            “There were no darkspawn in Redcliffe at the time,” Teagan answered.

            “No, there wasn’t.”  She looked back at those gathered.  “The darkspawn were likely kept away from all of the undead infesting the area.  His nephew made a deal with a demon, in an attempt to save his father, and started raising the undead and setting them against those in the castle and village.  A lot of people died as a result.  Yet, the family didn’t lose anyone.  Did they?”

            “I… we were lucky,” Teagan shifted uncomfortably.  “Although, technically, we did lose Connor.”

            “I’m sure that it helped that you never raised a hand to fight the creatures off,” Elisabeta turned back to him.  “You may recall that you were hiding in the chantry with the children and elderly while others fought off the undead monsters your nephew had created.”

            “Hiding behind the Reverend Mother’s skirts, were you?”  Hawke called out from the audience.

            “That does seem dishonorable,” Fenris’ deep voice carried.

            “And you killed my nephew for it!”  Teagan screamed; his fists clenched.  He banged on the table.

            “Monsiuer,” the Orlesian Ambassador objected.  “Calmez votre penis!”

            Beside him, Leliana began to choke.

            Even Teagan stopped for a moment and stared at him, wide eyed.  “I beg your pardon.”

            “You should beg the lady’s pardon,” the ambassador insisted.  “It’s obvious…”  He turned to Leliana.  “Cet enfant ne sait pas tenir sa langue.”

            “Oui,” she responded as she watched Teagan’s fists clench and the table shake with his strikes.  “Son neveu était une abomination.”

            “Connor was an abomination!”  Elisabeta shouted back.  She then gently rocking Andie who began whimpering at her mother’s harsh tone.  “Sorry, Mommy didn’t mean to scare you.  I just need to deal with that meanie Teagan who seems to hate Grey Wardens, even though two of them saved his ungrateful butt.  Yes, I do.”  She gently kissed the top of her daughter’s head.  “Oh, and he apparently hates the Inquisition, when we ended the war going on in the land he had back then.”  She looked back at the audience.  “He’d been kicked out of Redcliffe and the Inquisition took care of the Magister who had seized his castle.”

            “C'est plutôt évident qu'il veut se la taper, mais il sait pertinemment qu'elle le plantera si il essaie,” the Orlesian ambassador commented to Leliana.

            “Oui,” she agreed.

            “You allied yourself with the mage who helped him take Redcliffe!”  Teagan was red as he screamed at her.

            “And it was so easy,” Fiona strolled into the room.  Even Elisabeta was surprised to see her.

            “I sent her a bird,” Salona informed Anders.

            “Instead of even defending your castle, you went running to Denerim, expecting the king to get it back for you,” Fiona continued.  “I’m not as ignorant to politics as some mages.  Redcliffe is the Gatekeeper of Ferelden.  It’s the only area where one can enter the country by land.  You should have had a tighter defense!  It was easy to take your castle!  You’re an incompetent leader!”

            “Ooooh!”  Someone said from the audience.  It was Isabela. 

Half of the audience echoed her.

            “You’re also a horrible warrior,” Elisabeta added.  “As I was saying, you were hiding in a chantry when I first met you.  You were saved by two Grey Wardens!  If they hadn’t shown up, you and all of the villagers of Redcliffe would be dead.” 

            “What is this about Grey Wardens?”  Fiona narrowed her eyes at Teagan.

            “He claimed the Grey Wardens had invaded Ferelden under pretense and that’s why they were exiled!”  Hawke shouted.  “My brother’s a Grey Warden you twat!”  The last part was shouted at Teagan.”

            “They didn’t invade,” Elisabeta rolled her eyes.  “You see,” she addressed the audience.  “Teagan never bothered to pay attention to his tutors.  The Grey Wardens had their own base when they stood up to King Arland, who was fond of persecuting his peasants and nobles.  He was a heinous despot, which Teagan probably likes.  He had wiped out an entire noble family and killed several others, including one of my ancestors.  The Gray Wardens did not invade, they were at Soldier’s Peak in Ferelden and defending their loved ones.  They were even led by Arland’s own cousin, Sophia Dryden who had been forced into the Wardens by Arlan.”  She turned, dramatically, back to the council.  “Yet you lob false claims against the Wardens and the Inquisition.”

            “I have the support of King Alistair!”  Teagan jumped to his feet.

            “Oh, sit down, Teagan.”  Alistair strolled in.

            “Did you know how your ambassador felt about Grey Wardens?”  Fiona gave him a glare, one that Elisabeta feared would tell all of Thedas that she was his mother.  Only one’s mother could look at someone with such disappointment.

            “He never said anything negative about the Wardens to me,” Alistair’s voice dropped.  “We saved him, and the rest of Redcliffe during the Blight.”

            “He’s obviously forgotten that.”  Elisabeta sent a murderous scowl at the ambassador.  Then she turned to the king.  “What are you doing here?  I thought the Warden hating Orlesian was your representative here.”

            While Elisabeta was still mad at him, Andie was not.  She held out her arms for her father to take her.  Elisabeta didn’t blame her, she wanted to hug Alistair, too.  No matter how mad she was, she missed him.

            Alistair gently took his daughter, standing carefully as if he expected Elisabeta to fight him.  She just shook her head as Andie clutched Alistair’s shirt and snuggled in close to her daddy.  “The love of my life, my other half, decided that she was going to Halamshiral.  I have learned that chasing after her is the right answer, whether or not she wanted me, too.”

            “I’m here representing the Inquisition, even if it’s against Ferelden, as well as Orlais,” she informed him.

            “That will be interesting, as you’re the Queen of Ferelden,” Alistair commented.  “Well, if Teagan is here representing Ferelden, then I’m here as your loving husband.  I’m here to stand by your side.  That’s whatever side your side is on.”

            Anders stood.  “And I’m here as a Free Mage.  I say the Chantry doesn’t have the right to dictate what happens to the Inquisition!  You’re not the boss of them!  You’re not the boss of any of us!”

            There was a murmur of agreement.  Solona had a look on her face that was halfway between love and amusement.

            “That’s right!”  Hawke stood as well.  “You declared them heretics!  Well, not you, Divine Victoria.  You were one of the heretics.  The grand clerics did, though.  It was official.  This entire thing is a farce!”

            Teagan tried to send him a death glare, but Hawke had been glared at by much more deadly people.

            “Mon dieu,” the Orlesian Ambassador laid his forehead on the table.

            Josephine was staring at the table, as if she could figure out how to crawl under it.

            “I bet you wish I was the real Inquisitor!”  Adrianna laughed and practically danced out of the room.

            “I’m calling a recess,” Leliana declared.  She stood and walked serenely from the room as if some sort of farce was not rolling out before her and several ambassadors were not on the verge of tears.

Chapter Text

“Inquisitor, Leliana needs to speak with you,” Charter stood beside Elisabeta.

            “She’ll have to wait,” Alistair informed her.  “Beta and I need to speak first.”

            “Divine Victoria…”  Charter began.

            “She can wait,” Elisabeta echoed her husband.  “She called this travesty, but she isn’t my priority.  Remind her of that, will you.  I’ll speak with her as soon as I have time.”

            “But this is really important,” Charter objected.

            “What are you doing here?”  Elisabeta decided to just ignore the Scout.  If making her best friend Divine couldn’t keep the Chantry from bothering her, then the Chantry could wait.  Besides, her husband and family would always be her priority.

            “I followed you,” Alistair admitted.  “I admit that someone else told me where you were.  I should have known.”

            “Yes, you should have,” she agreed.  “Just as you should have known to never let Teagan back in Ferelden, much less make him an ambassador!  He has been plotting against the Inquisition and the Grey Wardens, likely because they both mean something to me.”

            “They mean something to both of us,” he insisted.

            “Yet he called the Wardens all sorts of names and acts like the Inquisition is just waiting to invade Ferelden,” she pointed out.

            “A lot of our nobles think that,” he reminded her.  “The Inquisition has an army on our border.”

            “And they’re protecting Ferelden better than the Guerrins ever did when they held Redcliffe,” she reminded him.

            “They didn’t do that bad of a job,” he tried to claim.

            “Teagan’s grandfather allied with the Orlesians until Queen Moira pointed out the errors of his ways.  He likely let those snail munchers in!”  She accused.  “How else did they manage to invade without the Guerrins suffering loss of family?  My grandfather died in that invasion!”

            “My great-grandfather didn’t do any better,” he reminded her.  “That doesn’t mean we need someone else to protect us now.  We’ve already replaced the Arl of Redcliffe, you and your brother saw to that.”

            She gave a little smile.  “Yes, we did.  That doesn’t mean it’s all right for you to try and destroy an organization that I helped create.”

            “Beta…”  He sighed.  “You know I don’t like being king, but I am.  I have to do what’s best for our country and I can’t ignore the wishes of our nobles.”

            “Half of them are on my side,” she pointed out.

            “Half of them are related to you,” he grumbled. 

            “That’s just part of being a noble, darling.”  Now she gave a little laugh.  “We are an intermarrying group, aren’t we?  So, did you come here to fight me?”

            “No!”  His voice rose and panic lit his face.  “I came here, because I love you and I’m not going to let you just run off without chasing after you.”

            Now she did smile.  She stepped forward and laid her forehead against his shoulder, careful of their daughter between them.  “I love you, you idiot.  Could you have at least sent a less hostile ambassador?”

            “He is my Ambassador to Orlais,” Alistair said lamely.  “He had me convinced that Orlais was going to seize control of the Inquisition.”

            She straightened.  “I’m the Inquisitor!  Do you really think I’d let them?  Do you think I’m so weak and helpless that I couldn’t stand up to those Invasion Monkeys?”

            “I…”  He sighed.  “I wasn’t thinking about you being the actual Inquisitor.  I was thinking of Ambassador Montilyet, who seems to like Orlesians and Leliana who is an Orlesian.”

            “Technically, Leliana’s a Fereldan,” she reminded him.  “She was raised in Orlais, but her mother was from Ferelden and she was born there.  She doesn’t know who her father is.”

            Alistair thought for a moment.  “After this is over, we should find out who he is, just for the fun of it.”

            Elisabeta thought about it for a moment.  “I do wonder who he could have been.  If he was merely a local woodcutter or hunter, we may never know, but I would love to try and find out with you.”

            Alistair kissed her forehead.  “I promise I’m just here as your husband, my love.  I’m here to support you.  Although, I admit I had a disturbing dream last night and have the horrible need to write Fergus and have him check every barrel at the palace.”

            “Do it, I’ve had a bad feeling about this entire Exalted Council and it isn’t just because I don’t like the Chantry thinking it has a say in what happens to the Inquisition, what happens in Ferelden, or what happens in my life.”  She gently kissed her husband.  “I am glad you’re here.  I missed you, even when I wanted to strangle you for supporting the man who is not your uncle.  If you’re having dreams, then follow through with them.  The Maker works in mysterious ways.”

            “I will,” he promised.

            She smiled.  “Watch Andie.  I’ll go see what Leliana wants.”  She kissed the top of her daughter’s head and then her husband’s lips.

            Alistair watched Beta walk off.  That had gone better than he thought.  He wasn’t dead, he was still even conscious.  He looked down at Andie who babbled at him.  “Yeah, I was lucky.  Thank the Maker she loves me.”

            “Ah, there you are,” Teagan came rushing to him.  “Alistair, I need your help.  The Exalted Council is in danger now that that….”  He trailed off, realizing insulting Beta to Alistair’s face was not a good idea.

            “Unless those words are ‘All hail the Grey Wardens’, I don’t want to hear them right now.”  His voice was cool.  He wondered how long his pseudo uncle had harbored resentment towards the Grey Wardens.  The people who had saved him more than once.  Elisabeta had died for that man, along with the rest of Ferelden. 

            “Alis… Your Majesty, you have to understand…” Teagan began.

            Alistair ignored him and addressed his daughter instead.  “Let’s go see what trouble we can stir up for the Orlesians.  As Fereldans, we have a reputation to uphold.  We’ll let Teagan clean up the mess he made.  Yes, we will.  Mommy will find us after she’d done reminding the Divine not to be stuffy.”  He left, leaving Teagan staring after him.

            Teagan was still storing when a couple of mages came up to him.  He recognized them as friends of Elisabeta’s and stiffened his shoulders, his chin rising.

            “So, you don’t like Grey Wardens?”  The woman’s voice was casual.

            “They can’t be trusted,” he growled.  These weren’t friends from the Grey Wardens.  He was sure they were Inquisition.  “Your organization should never have allied with them.”

            “Which organization is that?”  The other mage wanted to know.  “I’ve found myself tangled with so many.  Do you remember when you conscripted me, Salona?”

            “It was the only way I could think of you to save you from the Templars, Anders,” she reminded him.  She turned to Teagan.  “He does mean I conscripted him into the Grey Wardens.  It was actually King Alistair’s idea, but he was right.”

            “I do hate Templars,” Anders agreed.  “And they were going to kill me.  I think I prefer people who want to protect Thedas from the Blight more than people who want to keep all mages imprisoned.  What do they stand for?”

            “They stand for might makes right and abuse who you want,” Salona decided. 

            Anders turned to Teagan.  “What do you stand for?”

            “I don’t know what you mean,” Teagan insisted.

            “No, I’m sure you don’t,” Salona began walking away.  “I’ll keep that in mind.  Try to find something before we’re done with you.”  They left before they could expound on their threat.

Chapter Text

“There you are,” Leliana greeted Elisabeta as she joined her.  She was in a small building that was apparently being used to house the Inquisition.  Elisabeta could see a mixing table that contained ingredients for different potions and bombs.  She guessed there were ingredients for anything she needed.  Did someone expect her to attack the Exalted Council?  She wouldn’t put it past herself.

            Leliana was kneeling over something, still dressed in her Divine robes.  Elisabeta wondered if she always wore them.  “Lissa,” Leliana didn’t even look up.  “I thought you would want to see this.”

            There was a Qunari, in full Qun armor, slumped against the wall.  A pool of blood had died around him and he was quite obviously dead.

            “I didn’t do it,” she assured Leliana. 

            Leliana gave a little laugh.  “No, I’m sure you didn’t.  You would have dumped his body down one of the Winter Palace’s wells or cisterns.  It’s a Qunari Warrior in full armor, though.  How did he get into the Winter Palace?”  She stood and approached Elisabeta, waving a vague hand at the body.

            “Would the Iron Bull know anything about this?”  Elisabeta wondered.  She could write Sten, but things had become very curt between them after the Storm Coast incident.  Sten still didn’t believe it was even her.  He claimed that there were no gods and therefor one could not have brought her back from the dead.  He thought her to be a trick to lure him back into Southern Thedas.  She wasn’t going to Par Vollen just to prove her identity, either.  She’d told him that and called him a coward for not coming to see for himself.  He had written back that questioning his honor didn’t mean she was Elisabeta Cousland, only that she knew how Elisabeta Cousland thought.  She’d written back, reminding him that he was so stubborn he would have just sat in an open cage in Lothering, if Alistair hadn’t let it slip that they were Grey Wardens, and that he was now acting even more stubborn.  He hadn’t responded to her accusations.

            “I asked,” Leliana admitted.  “And he was as surprised as we are.  Since becoming Tal-Vashoth, he has had no contact with his people.  He seems frustrated at not knowing more.  You could write Sten and ask him.  I believe he’s an Arishok now.”

            “He is,” Elisabeta confirmed.  “You’ll need to write him, though.  He doesn’t believe I’m… me.  He thinks I’m an imposter.”

            “Of all the stubborn…”  Leliana cut off and shook her head.   

            “Give me the read of the bard who went and became the Left Hand of the Divine, the moment I died,” Elisabeta suggested.

            “It wasn’t the very moment,” Leliana protested.  “I grieved first and then went to guard the Urn of Sacred Ashes.”  She glanced back at the body.  “This is a warrior, not a spy.  Part of the Antaam, the Qunari Military.”  She took a step back towards the body and studied it closer for a moment.  “Most of his wounds come from a fight against someone using magic, but at least a few are from a blade.”  She looked over to Elisabeta again.  “He was badly hurt, separated from his allies, and made it here before he died.  But how?”

            “Magic and a blade,” Elisabeta stepped up to the body as well.  “Did he face more than one opponent or was it a mix of magic and sword, which I very much approve of.”

            “I imagine you do,” Leliana agreed.  “Just as you need to find out what is going on.”

            “That I do,” Elisabeta agreed.  “Can Josephine manage the diplomats while I look around or should I just leave Andie in charge.”

            “You mean Addie,” Leliana corrected.

            “No, I mean Andie,” Elisabeta assured her.  “She can cry when you and your ambassador buddies get out of hand.  You haven’t seen her when she’s left to cry too long or isn’t getting her way.  She can out scream all of you.”

            “Let’s leave Adrianna in charge for now and keep Andie in reserves,” Leliana urged.  “The first few days are all speech and posturing, anyway.  I’ll call a recess for now.  I’ll also have our friends ready themselves for battle, if need be.”

            “Don’t have Alistair ready himself,” Elisabeta ordered.  “Andie needs one of us to stay with her.”

            “I wouldn’t imagine sending Ferelden’s King into battle,” Leliana assured her.  “Even if I dared give the order, he’ll be our best chance to keep Teagan in line.”

            “Why is it that trouble always seems to find me?”  Elisabeta wondered.

            “Look at it this way, Andraste herself has proven that when there is trouble the rest of Thedas can’t handle, you’re the one She and the Maker look to for help,” Leliana cheerfully pointed out.  “At least the Exalted Counsel will be more exciting than we expected.”

            “Does that mean I can call on you to aid in battle?”  Elisabeta grinned, even as she arched an eyebrow.

            “Sweet Maker, please, yes,” Leliana urged.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta wondered if she could pin the murder of the Qunari Warrior on the ambassadors, as she left the little house and looked around.  She soon found a trail of blood.  “Oooh, a clue!”

            She followed it.  There were Orlesians in her way.  Wasn’t that always the way?  She wondered if she could find a mabari to unleash on them.  She had left Ser Calenhad and Thorn in Denerim.  She’d have to find if Alistair had brought one of them.  Both could probably follow the blood trail easily. 

            Elisabeta looked around and couldn’t find a single messenger.  She finally found a man in Orlesian livery who looked like he worked at the castle.  She grabbed his arm.  “Do you know where King Alistair of Ferelden is staying?”

            The Orlesian lifted his chin, his nose going further into the air.  “I do not take orders from you.  Your accent is that of the Fereldans.  You can ask your ambassador for help.”

            “Wrong answer.”  She punched him.  It had been months since she’d punched someone and she found that it felt good.  She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to since her confrontation with Teagan.  Of course, she really needed to punch Teagan, but that would look bad.  There would be those who thought she was punching him because it was her only recourse to fight his attack on the Inquisition and that would just make her look as weak as he was. 

            The man flew a couple of feet and landed on his back.  “You uncouth… heathen!”  He screamed. 

            “That’s Fereldan to you.”  She moved to stand over him.  “Now I will ask you this one more time, where is King Alistair?”

            “I… I will never tell you, you…”  He stammered.

            “He doesn’t know,” an Inquisition guard joined them.  “I’ll take you to your husband, my lady.  Don’t bother with this frog who preys on snails and doesn’t know how to properly cure cheese.”

            “I beg your pardon!”  The servant gasped.

            “Beg all you want,” the guard shrugged.  “Come, my lady.”

            Elisabeta found Alistair standing in a large room.  He was dancing around it, while holding Andromeda.  Their daughter squealed in delight as he danced and sang.

            Fight for your values and fight for your friends

Fight through this blight find the light at the end

Through the age of the Dragon the people will talk

Of the day they were saved by a hero

Named Hawke

            “Hawke had a song written about him?”  She stood in the doorway, in slight disbelief.  She almost didn’t notice Thorn laying on the bed, watching the dancing pair.

            Alistair stopped and grinned at her.  “I don’t think he had anything to do with it being written.  Varric likely did, though.  It is song by a talented group of mistrals who call themselves Miracle of Sound.  I believe they may have one about you, as well.”

            “They… what?”  Elisabeta didn’t know what to say to that.  “They…what?”  She repeated herself, still not believing what she heard.

            “Well, it’s about you and some of your friends,” Alistair explained.  “They call it All as One.”

            She took, in the information, it had disturbing implications.  Then she had a thought.  “It has to be Varric.  He’s the connection between all of it.”

            “The songs are both very catchy,” he assured her.  “You’d like it.  Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I have an off-topic question.  How did you escape Leliana so quickly?”

            “I haven’t exactly,” she admitted.  “I am tracking a dead Qunari.  I need Thorn’s help.”

            Thorn lifted her head at hearing her name and woofed at her mistress.  Then, sensing that adventure was on the horizon, she jumped to her feet and came to Elisabeta’s side.

            “A Qunari in the Winter Palace?”  Alistair didn’t like the sound of that.  “How did he get in?”

            “We don’t know,” she told him.  “That’s part of what we’re trying to figure out now and why I need Thorn.  I’m going to follow his blood.”

            “We’re all going to go watch this, aren’t we Andie?”  Alistair looked back at his daughter.

            Andromeda babbled at him in return and then zerbeted at her mother.

            Thorn happily yipped when Elisabeta reached the spot where she had seen a trace of blood.  The mabari bounded through the Winter Palace’s grounds, plowing past and over Orlesians.  A few were horrified to see such an aggressive dog, but others were impressed watching a mighty mabari in action.

            Thorn stopped under a trellis and barked up at it.  She looked at Elisabeta expectantly.

            “I’m not going to carry you up there,” Elisabeta objected.  “I’m not even sure how I would pull that off.”

            Thorn gave a little woof of agreement.

            “I guess I might as well go up there, I’ll let you know what I find,” she promised her mabari.

            Thorn woofed in agreement again.

            Elisabeta climbed up the trellis, wondering why no one was shouting at her not to.  She climbed up onto a ledge, where she saw traces of blood.  The traces became bigger and bigger as she crept through a window and into the room.  She found herself facing what appeared to be a mirror.  She knew that wasn’t what it was, though.  Well, not all it was.  She stared at the Eluvian and cussed.  She knew she was going to have to go through it.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta had commandeered one of the rooms in the Winter Palace to meet with her team.  The Orlesian Ambassador had grumbled a bit about it and Teagan had thrown a full-on temper tantrum.  He hadn’t even been concerned that King Alistair had witnessed his tirade, apparently, he thought he was acting reasonably.

            “There is an Eluvian in the palace,” Elisabeta informed them.  “It scared Alistair so much that he has contacted the Palace of Denerim to make sure there isn’t one there.  I admit, I also sent River a message to check Castle Cousland.”

            “Do you think the dead Qunari came through there, Boss?”  The Iron Bull questioned.  “It would explain how he got here without anyone noticing him.”

            “The blood trail came from here, so I’m going with a definite yes,” she confirmed.  “That’s why I need a team to go through it.  I’ll need to leave others behind to watch our backs.  I don’t trust anyone involved in this Exalted Council.”

            “Not even Leliana?”  That surprised Cassandra.  “You know she tried to play politics and protect the Inquisition as long as she could.”

            “The Inquisition isn’t any business of the Chantry,” Elisabeta declared.  “They proclaimed us heretics.  I admit that I’ve been known as a critic of the Chantry since the first history lesson my tutor gave me, but the facts don’t lie… unlike the Chantry at times.”

            “Lissa!”  Cassandra objected.

            “They have dropped parts of the Chant,” Elisabeta argued.  “They’ve likely altered others.  Needless to say, although I already did, I don’t trust them or their Exalted Council.”

            “That’s not to mention what they’ve don’t to us mages,” Anders added.  “You are right not to trust them.  I’ll stay behind, for now, to keep an eye on them.”

            “I’d been hoping to take you,” Elisabeta admitted.  “You had experience with the Qunari in Kirkwall, and you’re my only healer.”

            “We were planning on making Teagan Guerin’s time at the Winter Palace interesting,” Solona added.  “After his comments about Grey Wardens, it’s a matter of honor.”

            “I don’t know what I’m facing, I’ll grab you if I need you,” Elisabeta decided.  She thought for a moment.  “I wonder if I could get Leliana to go.  She’s probably itching for a fight.”

            “You would take the Divine in the middle of an Exalted Council?  There is no way she would go.”  Cassandra voice and stance said she was certain of it.

            Elisabeta took that as a challenge.  “Would you be happy staying behind, if you were Divine that is.”

            “No,” Cassandra’s answer was firm.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta stood in front of the Eluvian, her team behind her.  The Inquisition had seized the portal disguised as a mirror and moved it to a more secure location.  She took in a deep breath, apprehensive of where it would lead her.  “I wish Morrigan was here.”

            “I don’t,” Leliana answered from the middle of her team.  “I’ve never been through an Eluvian I admit that I’m rather excited.  What does it feel like?”

            “It’s just like walking through any doorway, Nightingale,” Varric assured her.  “Let’s go watch Stormy destroy whatever threat came through here.”

            Elisabeta stepped through.

            Elisabeta found herself in a place that reminded her or the crossroads that Morrigan had taken her to.  She really wished she had the witch with her now.

            “What is this place?”  Leliana was looking around.

            “It’s the Crossroads,” Elisabeta informed her.  “Morrigan took me here once.”

            Leliana looked around, obviously not trusting it.  “You don’t suppose she’s hiding here now?  Could she have killed the Qunari soldier?”

            “Morrigan?”  The Iron Bull laughed.  “She’s not strong enough.”

            “She is in bear form,” Leliana warned.

            “Bear…what?”  Bull had never seen the form.

            “What is with all of the colors?”  Sera looked around.  Her voice quivered.

            “What colors?”  Cassandra scanned the area.  “There are no colors.  This place is dark, gray, like it is under heavy clouds.”

            “There are colors,” Sera’s voice trembled.  “Why can’t you see them?”

            “It’s alright, Buttercup,” Varric assured her.  “Everything will be alright.  Bianca and I will see to that.”

            Thorn yipped, interrupting them.  She sniffed and put her paw on blood.  She’d found the trail.

            “Lead us on girl,” Elisabeta instructed.

            Thorn did so, taking them to another active Eluvian.

            “He came through more than one Eluvian, through the Crossroads.”  Elisabeta didn’t like that.

            “Right,” the Iron Bull spoke.  “Let’s see where that guy came from.”

            They went through the Eluvian.

            Elisabeta now found herself in a vine covered tower.  One that appeared old and of elven build.  “Elven ruins.”  She wondered how many times she had found herself in such places.  “I’m not sure we’re even in Orlais anymore.”  It didn’t look or feel like Orlais.  The air was to clean and didn’t smell of too much perfume.

            She made her way through the tower, scanning her surroundings.  She didn’t see any inscriptions or clues as to when the tower had last been used and what might have happened to its original inhabitants.  There was nothing indicating where in Thedas she even was.

            She saw light at the end of the hallway and followed it.  At the base of a set of stairs, she found another dead Qunari.  He, too, was in full armor.

            “Another Qunari,” Leliana noted.  “He’s dressed identical to the one in the Winter Palace.  Bull, do you know what that means?”

            “They have the same tailor?”  Sera guessed.

            “He’s   Karashok,” Bull informed them.  “A foot soldier.  They must’ve been in the same squad.”

            “Who did they piss off?”  Elisabeta wondered.  “The squad met someone who was more than a match for them.”  She continued up the stairs as she speculated.

            “Sten would have had us believe that no one could so easily take out Qunari soldiers,” Leliana recalled.

            “Yet the darkspawn wiped out his squad,” Elisabeta reminded her.  “There’s always someone tougher out there.  Although, I haven’t found anyone to match that damn Archdemon yet.  I don’t want to, either.”  She reached the top of the stairs and found herself outside.  There was yet another Eluvian at the end of a pathway that led forward.

            There was also a small group of Qunari, or rather what had been Qunari.  They stood, like statues, in the middle of a burned area.  “Sweet, Maker.”  She slowly walked closer.  The blackened area in the middle of the Qunari remains was still smoking.  “A spell killed these Qunari.  It was cast less than an hour ago.”  She was sure of it.

            Cassandra came to her side and began examining the area.  Elisabeta was glad she’d brought the Seeker along.  “You’re right,” Cassandra confirmed.  “This was powerful magic.  It isn’t blood magic, but a very powerful mage did this.  Dorian,” she turned to the mage.  “Have you seen anything like this?”

            Dorian stepped up and studied the area as well.  “Andraste’s apple flavored ample bosom!  Thank the Maker, I haven’t.  This is… I mean they’re Qunari, so this isn’t all bad, but…”

            “Hey!”  Bull objected.

            “You know you’re different, Amatus,” Dorian assured him.  “There is no one else in Thedas like you.”

            “Let’s see where the next Eluvian leads.  Maybe we’ll find answers as to who our evil and very powerful mage is.”  Elisabeta went up to the Eluvian at the end of the path and stepped through.

            “Why am I not surprised to find yet another path?”  Elisabeta grumbled as she emerged onto yet another path, this one led to a bridge.  Only the bridge was missing its middle.  There seemed to be some sort of mechanism that raised the middle of the bridge, so passersby could use it.  There was a broken statue on a pedestal at her end of the bridge.

            The people on the other side of the bridge caught her attention.   “Over there,” she pointed.  “We found the Qunari.”

            “We need to find out why they’re here,” Dorian declared.

            “To do that, we have to get to the other side of this spooky ass island,” Sera pointed out.  “I don’t want to.”

            Elisabeta sighed.  “But we have to.  I have a feeling that whatever they’re up to, it isn’t good for us.”

            “So, what now, Boss?”  Bull wanted to know.

            “We look around for yet another Eluvian to go through,” she responded.  “I’m getting a bit sick of it.  I need someone to punch.”

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found herself in yet another tower.  This one had some strange smoke coming off of it.  It wasn’t exactly burning, it was just… smoking.

            She noticed a spirit, holding a large mallet of some kind, standing at the top of a set of stairs.  She slowly walked up the steps and noticed other spirits spread out behind him.  Great, first she had Qunari and now armed spirits.  She wondered if she could ever just find birds singing and puppies when she ventured into the unknown. 

            “Atish’al vallem, Fen’Harel Elthadra,” the spirit proclaimed.

            Great, all she recognized was the name Fen’Harel.  That wasn’t good.  “I don’t understand,” she admitted.

            “Nuvenas mana helanin, Dirth Bellasa ma,” the spirit continued.

            Nope, she still had no idea what he was saying.  She almost glanced at Sera, but knew that would just draw her friend’s ire.  Sera didn’t speak a word of elven and this sounded old.  She almost wished that Solas was there.

            She put her hand on the hilt of her sword, Excalibur, expecting to have to fight past the spirits.  That’s when she heard the whispers coming from her sword.  She’d dipped the sword into the Well of Sorrows in Mythal’s Temple and it had spoken to her since.  Yet she hadn’t heard the whispers in months.  Now it whispered words she didn’t understand at first.  She, finally, understood that it was telling her what to say to the spirit.  She carefully repeated the words and the spirit stepped aside for her.

            “That was… spooky,” Sera commented.  She eyed the spirits suspiciously as they walked through them.  “Why aren’t they attacking?”

            Elisabeta shrugged.  “Ask Excalibur.”

            “I’m not asking your sword questions,” Bull spoke up.  “Just… thank it for me.”

            She nodded as she wondered around.  Crap, there was another Eluvian.  As she approached it, she noticed that it was broken.  Well, that was something.  It meant she wasn’t going through it.  She began circling the tower again.  That’s when she noticed a green glow coming from one of the mosaics.  The glow matched the anchor on her hand.

            It was worth a try.  Elisabeta lifted her hand and sure enough, a beam shot from the anchor.  A wash of powerful magic swept through her.  It carried an impression of welcome.  Then it began flashing images in her head.  There were elven slaves fleeing to this place.  They reminded her of the elves in the Temple of Mythal.  The elven slaves were greeted by other elves and were tended to.  There wounds were seen to and they were given food and water.  Then words were spoken to them.  “Fen’Harel bids you welcome.  Rest, knowing the Dread Wolf guards you and his people guard this valley.  Here, you are free.  In trusting us, and coming to us, you will never be bound again.”

            The anchor stung her a bit and she gave a yelp.  Then the mosaic dissolved and revealed a hallway that branched out in three different directions.  “That stung, but it was like… veil fire almost.  It showed me… images.  It said this was a refuge for elven slaves.”

            “Slaves?  Of other elves?”  Sera’s voice was incredulous.  “The old elves?  Pissers.”

            “Yes, this valley was some sort of sanctuary, created by the Dread Wolf, Fen’Harel,” Elisabeta continued.  She knew her surprise was coming through in her voice.  She’d always been told that Fen’Harel was dangerous, bordering on evil.  Yet, according to the record she’d just found, he was helping people; protecting them against those who would enslave them.  “This doesn’t make sense.  Morrigan told me that in Dalish legends, Fen’Harel is a God of Misfortunes.”

            “I’m sure Solas, wherever he is, will be upset that he wasn’t here with us to learn of this,” Leliana declared.

            Elisabeta nodded, wondering if he would.  He would undoubtedly find something wrong with the claims and argue with her findings.  That, or he would act as if he’d already known.  Her musings were cut short, however, when two of the branches turned out to be dead ends.  The third one held yet another Eluvian.  “Really?  This place must have belonged to Fen’Harel.  Only someone devoted to mischief and chaos would set up this ridiculous maze.”

            “Just go through,” Cassandra growled.

            Elisabeta stepped through.

            Elisabeta and her team stepped through to yet another tower.  This one was eerily silent.  It was in ruins, even more so than the previous tower had been.  She went to the edge of the ruins and looked out.  Things looked familiar.  “We didn’t travel far,” she reported.  “That’s the same like we saw from the last tower.”

            “So, the old elves had many uses for these devices,” Cassandra concluded.

“And they did not like to walk?  Were the old elves too lazy to walk across the meadow?”  Sera wondered.  “Did they not like horses?  Do horses like them?  I ride horses, but I don’t recall if I ever saw Solas ride one; he was the elfiest elf I ever met.”

            “They ride halla,” Varric reminded her.

            “Aren’t the halla guides who just take them where the halla think the elves need to go?”  Elisabeta wondered.  “I’ve only talked to a couple of Dalish clans about it, so I’m not sure.”

            “It would explain the need for the Eluvians, even for short distances,” Leliana agreed.

            “Or the need for horses,” Sera muttered under her breath.

            Elisabeta continued to wonder around the tower.  She found an ancient painting of a dragon.  “This is kind of… cute,” she admired it for a moment.

            “Perhaps Fen’Harel liked to paint,” Leliana suggested.  “It would add to his lore.”

            “I’m sure the elves will be riveted to learn this,” Cassandra’s voice was deadpan.

            “You never know,” Elisabeta examined the dragon for a moment, as she speculated.  “Perhaps Mythal liked to knit and Elgar’non wrote music.  It’s interesting to know, at least.  Falon’Din could have made tapestries in his spare time.” 

            Elisabeta tried to continue her circling of the tower, but there was rubble in the way.  “So Fen’Harel can maintain his spirit guardian things, but he can’t get them to clear away some rubble?”

            “Perhaps the spirits refused… or they cannot interact with the rubble,” Cassandra suggested.

            “I’m sure they’re weapons could have interacted well enough with us,” Elisabeta was sure of it.  “They should be able to clear away something.”  She turned around in disgust and went back the way she came, passing more painting.  “Look, Ancient elves on halla.”

            “They’re too wussy for horses,” Sera declared.

            “Hall are harder to tame than horses,” Cassandra insisted.

            “That’s why they couldn’t trust them to get them from one tower to another,” Sera countered.  “The hallas were in charge.  Elfy elves didn’t want to have to tell them where to go.”

            “We don’t know…”  Leliana began, but then stopped when Elisabeta stumbled over a dead Qunari.  “Are you alright, Lissa?”

            “I’m fine.”  Elisabeta knelt and examined the dead body that had jumped out in front of her, at least that’s what she was going to claim happened.

            “There are wounds on the back,” Cassandra commented.  “There is no blood on his sword.  Someone took him by surprise.”

            “He’s still warm,” Elisabeta reported.  “This couldn’t have happened too long ago.  The bloods not even dry.”

            “Someone is hunting Qunari?”  Leliana considered.  “After Sister Patrice several years ago, this is going to look bad for the Chantry.  Although… I guess that isn’t our biggest concern at the moment.”

            “I remember Patrice,” Varric revealed.  “Thedas doesn’t need another one of her.”

            As she stood, Elisabeta noticed another mosaic nearby and her Anchor tingled again.  “Let’s see if this works a second time.”  She raised her hand and let the magic flow into the mosaic.

            As before, the magic seemed to wash through her.  This time, it carried a pang of hope.  Images flashed by.  There was a man in wolfskin, standing with a group of freed slaves.  She didn’t know how she knew they were freed slaves, but she did.  The man in the wolfskin clasped the arm of one of the newly freed and declared ‘Fen’Harel has been falsely named a god, but is as mortal as any of you.  He takes no divine mantle, and asks that none be bestowed upon him.  He leads only those who would help willingly.  Let none be beholden, but by choice.’.  When the words were finished, the anchor stung her again and she cried out, shaking the offending hand.  Maker, that hurt.

            “Are you alright, Lissa?”  Leliana walked to her and examined her hand, not that any of them knew what to look for or what to do if anything was wrong with the anchor.

            “Did you have another vision?”  Bull wanted to know.

            “Another one of Fen’Harel,” she confirmed.  “He was helping former slaves as a mortal, not a god.” 

            She explained everything she had seen.

            “He took great pains to renounce his divinity,” Cassandra noted.

            “But Fenny helping is… bonkers,” Sera protested.

            “The old Fen’Harel sounds like a rebel,” Dorian noted.  “The old elven gods must have simply loved that.”  He, obviously approved.

            As they spoke, they had walked through the passage revealed by the mosaic and found themselves descending a staircase.  At the bottom of the staircase was yet another mosaic. 

            “Andraste’s bloody knickers,” Elisabeta groaned.  “What madman set this up?”  She lifted her left hand, knowing what was coming next.

            Sure enough, the anchor interacted with the mosaic and magic washed through her yet again.  This time, it held a sensation of bitter fury.  She knew the feeling well and had an urge to punch someone.  She promised herself she could later.  This time she saw elven mages enslaving tens of thousands of people, their own people.  They made arrogant proclamations, declaring themselves gods.  A voice whispered to her through the images of horrors perpetuated by elves upon their own people.  ‘The gods, our Evanuris, claim divinity, yet they are naught but mortals who are powerful in magic; who can die as you can.  In this place, we teach those who join us to unravel their lies.  Then her hand stung her yet again and the mosaic opened to reveal a hidden chamber.

            “This claims the Elven Gods were just Evanuris,” Elisabeta informed her team.  This had to get out, this revealed history.  “Powerful, but completely mortal, mages.”

            “Was this the start of an uprising?”  Cassandra wondered.  “Freed elven slaves, determined to stop their former masters?”

            “It’s very possible,” Leliana agreed.  “This could lead to the truth of what really happened to the elven gods.”

            “I know one thing,” Sera grinned.  “The Dalish are going to shit themselves.”

            Elisabeta walked into the room.  There were statues of elves with bows and arrows.  A stand stood in the middle.  She touched one of the statues and it stung her, hard.  She cried out and shook her hand.

            “Are you alright?”  Dorian rushed to her side and held her hand, peering at the anchor as if he could discern what it was up to.

            “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “The anchor has been stinging me, it flared up just now.  It’s… it’s been acting up since I left Denerim.”

            “Did you tell Alistair?”  Leliana wanted to know.  When Elisabeta sent her a reproachful look, the Divine just shrugged.  “He deserves to know.  You know he loves you more than anything.”

            “I… there hasn’t been time,” she admitted.  “And… I don’t want to worry him needlessly.”

            “Lissa,” Leliana doubled down.

            Elisabeta sighed.  “I’ll tell him when we get back to Halamshiral.”  If she didn’t, someone else would. 

            The anchor stung her again.  She cried out and flung her hand out, as if trying to throw the pain away from her.  The anchor flared again and the room was lit in a green light.  Well, that was new.  She looked at the others, who had mixtures of baffle and worry on their faces.  Great, just great.  She’d be doing a lot of praying to Andraste in hopes of the goddess helping her figure out what was wrong with the anchor She’d bestowed. 

            She had other concerns at the moment, though.  She went to the stand in the middle and took the object off of it, examining it.  “This looks like it fits on that pedestal by the broken bridge.”

            “Let’s hope it does,” Leliana looked around nervously.  “Let’s get back there before these statues wake up and attack us.”

            “Good idea,” Elisabeta led the way back out of the chamber and to the light.  As they emerged from the tower, she looked over the nearby fields.  She wondered where in Thedas they were, it wasn’t any place she’d visited before.

            Dorian stepped up beside her.  “Here we go again,” he drawled.  “Look at that, what a change from the Winter Palace.  A clear sky, a beautiful view, and… yes… fields and fields of strip weed as far as the eye can see.”

            “Strip… what?”  Cassandra’s eyebrows rose.

            “The stuff down there,” Dorian pointed.  “It’s terrible; looks like grass, stings like a knife, and causes sores if you so much as brush up against it.  And, of course, everyone in Marathas insists it makes a descent tea.”

            “Are we in Tevinter then?”  Elisabeta looked around some more and even leaned a bit over the railing, as if she could see Marathas from there.

            “It would appear likely,” Dorian confirmed.  “It is rather disturbing to think we have Qunari so close to Marathas.”

            “Could they be planning to invade using the Eluvians?”  Leliana suggested.

            “It would appear that way,” Elisabeta agreed.  She didn’t like the implications one bit.  “Let’s find out for sure.”  She headed back towards the first tower.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta stared at the pedestal before her for a moment and then at the Qunari on the other side of the bridge.  “What would have happened if we just had our archers shoot across the bridge?”

            “The Qunari would have retreated and then brought out their own archers,” The Iron Bull answered her.

            “But the archers with me are better than whoever the Qunari have,” Elisabeta was certain of it.

            “Darn right,” Sera agreed.

            “We could then have our mages levitate over the missing bridge parts,” Elisabeta reasoned.

            “Except none of your mages can levitate,” Dorian pointed out.

            “If Corypheus could levitate, then it must be possible,” she argued.

            “Yes,” Dorian agreed.  “But none of us have learned such magic.  The secret likely died with him.”

            “It would be interesting to find ancient magic books to see if it could be relearned,” Leliana mused.  “Morrigan would probably side with me on that, but still… it could help in battle.”

            “Let’s go get them,” Elisabeta placed the orb on the pedestal and waited for the bridge to rise.  As it did so, the fence lowered.

            When the fence was low enough, she and her team jumped on it and ran across, charging at the Qunari on the other side.  They ran past more dead Qun, she wasn’t sure if it was the guardian spirits or whoever dumped a dead Qun in Halamshiral who had ended them and she wasn’t going to stop to examine these bodies; she could see the Qunari in the distance.  Several of the soldiers were running out to meet them.

            Elisabeta almost tripped over a crate full of healing potions as she did so.  She stumbled for a moment.

            “So nice of them to leave us supplies,” Leliana scooped up the potions in a swift move. 

            Elisabeta had almost forgotten what a good pickpocket the Divine was.

            The Qunari charged at them.  “Vasheden,” one of them cursed.  “The Inquisition is on our tail!”

            “That’s right, horny,” Sera put an arrow in the speaker’s neck, making sure he never said anything again.

            Elisabeta shot ice at the lead Qun, before performing a Punisher move, and decapitated him at the end.  Then she did a Whirlwind, cutting into the remaining five opponents.

            Leliana shot an arrow into the ear of one of the Qun and smiled as it flew out of the other ear.  At the same time, Cassandra hit a still standing Qun with her shield, before cutting into it with her sword.  “I missed this!”

            “So did I, Seeker,” the Iron Bull chucked, even as he ended the life of one of his former brethren.

            “Bianca’s glad she didn’t miss this,” Varric agreed, as he dropped the last standing Qunari.

            “We’re all thrilled that Bianca’s happy.” Cassandra’s voice was deadpan.  Elisabeta suspected she wasn’t happy.  Could Cassandra be jealous of Bianca?

            More Qunari poured out of the building ahead of Elisabeta’s group.

            “Oh, good,” Dorian grinned.  “I was feeling left out.”  He created a firewall right in front of the charging Qunari and gave a little laugh when they couldn’t stop their charge before they ran into it.

            The archers shot those who managed to stop before they were turned to a crisp by Dorian’s fire.  Those who made it through, injured but alive were met with swords, swords that sent them to the side of the Maker they didn’t even believe in.  They were in for a surprise.

            Soon, Elisabeta and her team advanced to a building.  It looked… religious.

            “I think it was some type of sanctuary,” Dorian assessed. 

            “What I wouldn’t give to have time to study this architecture.”  The Iron Bull slung an arm around Dorian’s shoulders.  “What do you say, Amatus?  Should we take a little vacation and find this place, so we can study it?

            “Let’s clean the other Qunari out of here first,” Dorian urged.

            Yet another soldier met them at the door to the sanctuary.

            Without saying a word, Cassandra beheaded the soldier and the team moved in.

            As they entered the sanctuary, the spirit guardians were battling against the remaining Qunari.

            “Let’s help them clean the Qun out!” Elisabeta rushed in.  She crossed her swords to deflect a spear that was sent her way.  Then she sliced off the head of the Qunari that had launched it at her.

            “I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade.  For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light.  And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.”  Leliana casually loosed arrow after arrow, while reciting the Chant of Light.

            Elisabeta had to admit, while she swung Excalibur low and crippled her opponent, that Leliana’s chanting did seem to disconcert the Qunari.

            “Look at the tiles on the floor,” Dorian commented, even as he set a fire mine under one of the Qunari.  “These are ancient.  The knowledge here… the… Amatus, you’re right, we have to find a way to come back and study this.”

            “I told you Kadan,” Bull grinned at his boyfriend.  “It will be fun.  We can bring wine and a picnic as we do so.  Perhaps find time for just the two of us…”

            “Are you two planning a date, while we’re fighting?”  Cassandra blocked a massive two-handed sword with her shield.

            “I wonder if this place has some sort of library,” Varric mused. 

            “Maker take you!”  Cassandra declared, either to her opponent or Varric.  As she began wailing on her opponent, it appeared to be the Qunari in front of her.

            There were groups of Qunari throughout the hall.  Clearing them out of the sanctuary became a chore, but at least it was one with weapons and action.

            “Why did those Qunari attack the Inquisition on sight?”  Varric asked, when all of their opponents were dead and the spirit sentries went back to their vigil.

            “Qunari never attack without orders,” Cassandra proclaimed.

            “Sure, they do,” Elisabeta argued.  “Look what happened in Kirkwall.”

            “They still had orders from their Arishok,” Varric assured her.  “They didn’t start killing guards, and then everyone else, until he gave the o.k.”

            “Exactly,” Cassandra agreed.  “A commander in the Qun must have given them the order.”

            Elisabeta walked up the stairs at the end of the sanctuary.  “We are their enemy and they ours.  I have always said that is really the case.  At least now their open about it.”  She found a little, chunky statue with an inscription on the back.  The Dread Wolf keeps his gave on the light that illuminates the way forward. 

            “Well, at last, the Inquisition and Tevinter have something in common,” Dorian proclaimed.  “The Qunari want us all dead.”

            “We weren’t exactly on good terms as it was,” Elisabeta reminded him.  “I knew they weren’t to be trusted.  Sten made that very clear when he travelled with me.  I believe the warnings were signs of friendship from him.”  She turned from the small statue, to examine a much bigger one.  It was a large wolf, Fen’Harel from Elven Mythology.

            Behind the statue was a balcony.  The view from it was really quite lovely.  There was a small forest, woods really, more fields, and a fort on a hilltop in the distance.  One the railing of the balcony was veil fire.  The Ancient Elves did seem fond of the stuff.  Elisabeta let out a long-suffering sigh before lighting a torch with the veil fire and then looking around. 

            Sure enough, there were paintings on the wall.  She was sure something was hidden that only veil fire would show.  Wasn’t that the way with most elven ruins?  She hadn’t encountered the problem before she died, but ever since the it seemed to be the way of things.

            As she studied the paintings, Elisabeta realized they were dedicated to Fen’Harel.  She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.  Where ever she was, the land had obviously belonged to Fen’Harel, and his followers, at one time.  “That’s Fen’Harel in the painting,” she told her team.  “He’s removing their vallaslin, at least I believe that’s what the Dalish marks are called.  The ones they use to show they’re Dalish.”

            “They have something to do with the gods they serve,” Leliana reminded her. 

            “Do they truly still serve them?”  Elisabeta wondered.  “I’ve never seen a Dalish priest.  They don’t seem to have specific rituals that I’ve observed.  They aren’t exactly repeating the Chant of Mythal.”  She stopped when an angry whisper came from Excalibur.  Then she heard what sounded like a chant.  They apparently had had some chant or prayer before.  “Not anymore.”  The last part was addressed to her sword and the voices within.

            Sera stepped up beside Elisabeta and looked at the paintings.  “They’re not Dalish, there weren’t Dalish yet.  Right?”

            “Maybe the markings meant something else when Fen’Harel removed them,” Elisabeta speculated.  “By the time the Dalish had established themselves, they’d lost a lot of their history.”

            “My people saw to that,” Dorian agreed.  “It’s one of the many sins that can be laid on my ancestors’ heads.  No one’s perfect.”

            Elisabeta turned to study the paintings on the other side of the wall.  That’s when she noticed that the statue of Fen’Harel was gazing directly at one of the veil fire sconces.  She shook her head.  “Puzzles suck.”  Then she lit the sconce.  Nothing happened at first, so she went back to the statue.  There was a box resting between the wolf’s paws.  She lit the box as well.

            Sure enough, there was a loud scraping and the statue moved to reveal a staircase, just as the box opened.  Inside lay a bow.  She reached in and lifted it out.  “Is this even good anymore?”

            Leliana took it.  “I’ll examine it later and find out.”

            “So, the Divine gets the good loot, huh?”  Sera glared at her.

            “I…”  Leliana began.

            “It’s not like you can’t just have one of your faithful just make you a really nice bow,” Sera grumbled.

            Leliana blanched.  “Let me examine it first.  This is an ancient weapon, from before the fall of Arlathan.  The find alone…”

            “That’s right, it belonged to followers of Elven Gods, it wouldn’t do for the Divine to have it,” Sera pointed out.

            “Sera, you don’t believe in the Elven Gods,” Bull reminded her.

            “True, but that doesn’t mean the Divine should have one of their weapons,” Sera insisted.  “It’s a demon weapon.”

            “Then you wouldn’t want it, either,” Dorian spoke up.

            “I’d know what I was getting into,” Sera insisted.

            “I’ll just keep it for now,” Elisabeta decided.  “My mother was an excellent archer.  I think I’ll have Andie trained.  Now, let’s go.”  She began descending the stairs.

            Behind Elisabeta, Bull began to sing:

Two lovers, forbidden from one another
A war divides their people
And a mountain divides them apart
Built a path to be together

...Yeah, and I forget the next couple of lines, but then it goes...

Secret tunnel!
Secret tunnel!
Through the mountain!
Secret, secret, secret, secret tunnel! Yeah!

“What are you singing?” Dorian demanded.

“It’s the Secret Tunnel Song,” Bull informed him.  “I heard it in a play for children that the villagers in Seheron used to put on once a year.  It’s a fun play… one of the few fun things about that place.”

“Well, shit,” Elisabeta encountered yet another mosaic at the bottom of the stairs.  “How did the Qunari get through this without ancient elven magic stuck on their hand?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Leliana sighed.  “Bull, could you teach me that song you were singing?”

“Of course, Red,” Bull grinned at her.

Elisabeta ignored them as she raised her left hand and let her magic pour through the mosaic.  This time, the magic that washed through her held a feeling of determination.  Images flashed through her head once again.  The former slaves stood in formation with Fen’Harel.  They were armed and had obviously been training to use those weapons.  The vallaslin had been taken from them, their faces were clear.  Not only were their tattoos gone, but they were surprisingly blemish free.  She wondered if Fen’Harel had some type of skin conditioning secret he shared with his people.  Then came the words once again.  “The brand of the Evanuris can be lifted from you, that all may know you oppose their cruelties.  None here are slaves.  All are under our protection.  All may choose to fight.”  Then came the sting yet again and the mosaic dissolved.

Elisabeta found herself in some sort of armory.  The weapons were still there.  “They hid weapons.  How long have these been here?  They seem well preserved.”

“There are forgotten techniques here, Boss,” Bull wiped a tear away.  “We don’t know how these weapons were forged and what techniques were used.  They represent lost knowledge.”

“The slaves Fen’Harel freed used them,” Elisabeta confided.  “They fought back against the Evanuris who were posing as gods.”

“Interesting word choice,” Dorian decided.  “If all it means is that they were powerful mages, then basically they were… well… magisters.”

“The Dalish are going to shit themselves,” Sera declared.  The tone of her voice left no room for questions.

Elisabeta continued into the lower area, the area that had been hidden by a statue and mosaic.  They looked like a meeting hall and barracks.  Fen’Harel had raised an army to fight the other gods with.  As she continued further in, she encountered more Qunari.  “How did you get in here?”  She demanded they tell her.  “I had to use the Anchor!  You don’t have an Anchor, so what are you doing in here!”

They didn’t answer her, they just attacked.  That was a mistake.

Elisabeta jumped over a table and planted her fist in the face of her opponent.  Maker, that hurt!  Still, it also felt good.  “Answer me!”

The Qunari tried to stab her, she had no choice; she beheaded him.  When she moved on to the next one, he dropped dead at her feet, his chest full of arrows.  That was great.  They weren’t going to answer.  She blended into the shadows and ended the lives of those her team hadn’t already dealt with.

When the last Qunari dropped dead, she began exploring the area.  It appeared that members of the Qun had been using the area for their own purpose.  They’d been sleeping there.  She found a letter and read it.  Thank the Maker it was in Common.  It said the Qunari had come to the ruins, because the Eluvians connected to Halamshiral.  She found that strange, there was something ironic in Eluvians in ruins that dated to before the fall of Arlathan connecting to Halamshiral.  She showed the letter to the others.  “This isn’t good.”

“They were using these ruins as a staging ground for an invasion,” Cassandra declared.  There was a little hint of question in her voice, but only a little.

“It was some sort of… infiltration.”  At least that’s what Elisabeta believed from what she had read.  The Qunari were trying to secretly infiltrate Orlais.  While she was as happy as any Fereldan at seeing Orlais infiltrated, Elisabeta knew that any infiltrators would also be a threat to Ferelden.  She had to stop it.  “There were no more details.”

“It’s enough for us to be worried,” Leliana responded.  “I can tell you are, Lissa.  You are more politically savvy than you let on some times.”

“I know enough to realize this is a threat to my people.”  Elisabeta really didn’t like the thought of the Qun being able to bypass Tevinter and Navarra to go directly against the south.  She may have her issues with Tevinter, but she knew they stood between the Qunari and the rest of Thedas.

She found another note.  This one was instructions about the statue of Fen’Harel and how to get it to move.  It also said not to touch the item, the bow, inside.  They would have a saarebas examine it for magic.  She had a feeling that magic may be the key to defeating the Qun.  They feared their saarebas and treated them worse than the Chantry had treated mages.  That brought another thought.  “Is there a way to make saarebas tranquil?”  She asked Cassandra.

“I don’t see how one could be subdued long enough for the process,” Cassandra insisted.  “Although… that would freak out the Qun.”

“No one should be made Tranquil,” Sera shuttered.  “Not even scary things like saarebas.  They should be free.  Let’s help them become free instead, yeah?”

“You’re right,” Elisabeta conceded.

She turned and began exploring some more.

“It’s been too long since we’ve all been together,” Cassandra commented as they continue to search for clues as to what the Qunari were up to.  “I’ve missed it.”

“I’m glad you’re back, Cassandra,” Sera assured her.  “You need a break from your Seekers… and I need you breaking things in front of me!”

Elisabeta found an emerald in one of the chests.  “They have gems in here?”

“You never know with the Qunari, Stormy,” Varric shrugged.  “Maybe they like shiny things like the rest of us.”

Five minutes later, Elisabeta came upon another letter.  This one was written in both Qunlat and Common.

Two hours ago, an unknown intruder penetrated our defenses.  They were masked and cloaked, and a mage.  They used magic to awaken spirits and turned them against us.  The intruder moved as if they knew this place.  They then fled after the spirits awoke.  Dozens are dead.  The spirits keep attacking.  Engagement not rec…

The rest of the letter was illegible and there was blood on the paper.

Elisabeta handed the letter to the others.  “It’s a note about an unknown intruder coming through an Eluvian.  They turned spirits against the Qunari and then fled.”

“It must be a mage!”  Dorian declared.  “They killed any Qunari in the way and let the spirits do the rest.”

“We’re dealing with two parties then,” Elisabeta deduced.  “The Qunari and this mystery agent who is determined to stop them.”

“Maybe it was Fen’Harel and his ex-slave army,” Sera suggested and then laughed at her own joke. 

“Mythal is still alive,” Elisabeta reminded her.  “For all we know, Fen’Harel could be, too.”

“No, no he can’t,” Sera insisted.  “He was just some demon… or scary mage.  He has to be dead by now.”

“Come on, let’s go warn the Orlesians about the designs on the Winter palace.”  Elisabeta went to the Eluvian at the end of the hall, the one the mystery agent must have come out of.  She walked through.  After making her way through the towers again, she made it back to Halamshiral.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta stood at a make shift war table.  Boy, this felt familiar.  It was better than putting up with the Exalted Council, at least.  Alistair stood a few feet behind her, bouncing Andromeda gently.

“One dead Qunari was bad enough,” Cullen declared.  “Now we have a full contingent of them and they’re hostile.”

“Hostile is Qunari’s normal mode,” Elisabeta assured him.

“This makes no sense,” Josephine insisted.  “There has been no trouble between the Qunari and the Inquisition for over a year.  Perhaps if you had made an alliance with them, instead of having their agents arrested, Lissa, this would not…”

“They also have no business using Eluvians at all,” Leliana cut her off.

“I’ve had the mirror placed under guard for now, Your Holiness,” Cullen assured Leliana.

“Cullen,” Leliana’s voice was flabbergasted.  “Please, just call me Leliana.”

“Yes, your Holi… Leliana,” he corrected himself.

“I’ve always been under the impression that Qunari hated magic,” Alistair spoke up.  “I remember Morrigan turning into different animals in front of Sten, just to freak him out.  She was actually funny then.”  He gave a little laugh.

“It appears that the relative peace and quiet of the last year is coming to an end,” Elisabeta let out a longsuffering sigh.

“First the Blight, then mages and Templars, then Corypheus, and now this!”  Cullen gave his companions a wide-eyed look.  “Can’t we go ten years without the world falling to pieces?”

“We must make assure the Qunari do not disrupt the negotiants,” Josephine insisted.  “The Exalted Council is in a very delicate state.”

“Sure, they’re what we should be worried about.”  Alistair’s voice was falsetto.

Elisabeta glanced back and gave her husband a little smile.  “Yes, I’m sure they’re so much more dangerous to Thedas than rampaging Qunari,” she snarked.

“I’m sure you can smooth the nobles’ ruffled feathers, while was solve the real problem.” Cullen told Josephine, who was now glaring at Ferelden’s Royal Couple.

She now whirled on him, seething.  “Not when the Inquisitor insults everyone present by walking out in the middle of the talks!”

“I thought I’d already insulted them all, except Leliana, before I walked out,” Elisabeta shrugged.  “At least I haven’t punched any of them yet.”

“Yet,” Alistair looked up at the ceiling, while his lip quirked.  “That’s during the council.  You’ve punched Teagan before.”

“More than once,” Elisabeta agreed.  “I really should have just let the undead kill him.”

“You couldn’t do that without sacrificing the rest of the villagers,” Leliana reminded her.  “I know you wouldn’t do that.  Besides, he’s Alistair’s uncle, sort of.”

“He is not Alistair’s uncle!”  Elisabeta hissed.  “He was Cailan’s uncle.  Alistair and Cailan have different mothers!”

“Whether or not Teagan is or is not King Alistair’s uncle should not be our priority right now, Lissa,” Josephine reminded her.  Her voice and expression hinting at the fury brimming inside of her.  “Right now, it is to our advantage the Ferelden and Orlais are divided in goal and grievance.  If they unit against us, Divine Victoria will have no choice, but to support their claims.  We could lose everything.”

Elisabeta glanced at Leliana.  “Divine Victoria calling this exalted Council was already a dick move, when you consider she was my best friend.”

“I’m still your best friend,” Leliana objected.

“True, but it doesn’t change the fact that friends don’t call Exalted Council’s on friends, Lel,” Elisabeta insisted.

“Alistair is also partly responsible for the Council!”  Leliana reminded her.  “He supported Teagan’s efforts and those or your own nobles who called for it.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten that,” Elisabeta turned around to show her teeth at her husband.  “I’ll he’ll be reminded of it for years to come.”

“Beta…”  There was pleading in Alistair’s voice.

“I’m just saying, that if you or Leliana decide to support Orlais against me or, even worse, Teagan, then we may have… issues… over it.”  Elisabeta kept her voice sweet.  She turned back to Josephine.  “Could we use the Qunari threat to remind everyone how valuable the Inquisition is?  I know I don’t want them anywhere near Ferelden.  Perhaps Hawke could remind them of what one Arishok managed to do to Kirkwall.  Varric could retell the story, while Hawke just sits there looking heroic.”

“That might work,” Alistair backed her.

“Not until we know more,” Josephine insisted.  She let out a deep breath.  “It will be fine.  I will attend the Exalted Council.  Adrianna can sit beside me as the de facto leader in your absence.  That might sooth everyone.”

“That’s right,” Elisabeta smiled.  “I know the ambassadors didn’t expect me to show up.  Their expressions when I did was enough to tell everyone I was a not so pleasant surprise.”

“While Josephine and Adrianna do that, we’ll investigate,” Leliana declared.

“We, Your Holiness?”  Josephine stressed her title.

Leliana let out a long breath that shook in exasperation.  “Not you, too, Josie.”

“I’ll head back to the Crossroads soon,” Elisabeta promised.  “We need to know what the Qunari are doing and why they attacked.”

“And I’ll have a quiet word with our honor guard,” Cullen added.

Elisabeta turned around to face Alistair.  “I’m not going back in immediately; what do you say we go find a table at the tavern and figure out how to scandalize the Orlesians.”

“You aren’t going until morning, my love,” he insisted.  “You need sleep and the Qunari have to sleep, too.”

“Fine, but I’m going to send one of Leliana’s birds to Morrigan, then,” she insisted.  “You also have to order Teagan to dance on one of the tables at the tavern.  I’ve seen him dance, that will scandalize Orlesians.”

“He won’t agree to it,” Alistair smiled, despite his words.  “Although, the image is amusing.”

“He will if you order it,” she fluttered her eyelashes.  “The man insulted our order, Alistair.  He threatened the Grey Wardens of Ferelden.  Didn’t we dream of rebuilding them and he threated to undo all of our work.  Just remind him of the consequences of displeasing you.”  She leaned in and kissed him.  “I’m going to go send that letter.  I’ll meet you within the hour.”

Chapter Text

“We don’t know where Morrigan is,” Leliana objected as she walked with Elisabeta to the Inquisition’s messenger birds.

“Of course, I know where Morrigan is,” Elisabeta informed her.  “Do you think I would lose track of her?  I’m shocked that you have.”

“I… didn’t want to know,” Leliana admitted.  “She’s Morrigan.”

“And here I thought you always knew where everyone in Thedas was,” Elisabeta shook her head.

Elisabeta was surprised to find Solona and Anders in the rookery.  “What are you doing here?  Is it something to do with the Exalted Council?”

“It has more to do with one of the ambassadors as the Exalted Council,” Solona explained as Anders sent off another bird.  “We have reason to believe that Teagan’s return to Ferelden wasn’t due to homesickness.  He was fleeing a… situation.”

“I’m determined to find out what it is,” Anders added.  “All I’ve learned so far is that he ended up in the Free Marches and his wife didn’t go with him.  Did you know he was married?”

“No,” Elisabeta admitted.  “I didn’t.  I’ll have to ask Alistair about that.  In my defense, I was dead when the Fifth Blight was over.”

“He married some poor Redcliffe Villager named Kaitlyn,” Anders explained.  “Or so the rumors say.  Only, they also say that she didn’t go into exile with him.  I guess he left her brother in the village when he fled during the Mage-Templar War.  She wasn’t happy about that.”

“I doubt she was happy with him just abandoning the village, if she was a local,” Elisabeta commented.  “Wait?  She didn’t happen to be blonde, have lost her mother to the undead during the Fifth Blight, and cried a lot?”  Elisabeta had met someone named Kaitlyn in Redcliffe.

“I have no clue,” Anders admitted.  “All I know is that her brother had returned there when rumors of dragons emerged.  I guess he always wanted to be a dragon hunter.”

“That would be her,” Elisabeta confirmed.

“Didn’t you give her a bunch of money to leave Redcliffe and go to relatives in Denerim?”  Leliana recalled.

“Likely the appeal Teagan found,” Elisabeta grumbled.  “Either that or having a brother-in-law who was willing to fight undead.  Maybe he thought the boy could cover up for his own cowardice.  I guess he would be a man now.”

“I hope he aged better than Teagan,” Leliana remarked.  Then she realized what she’d said.  “I mean… no, there is definitely something wrong with Teagan.  He isn’t aging well.”

“He looks like that mayor we encountered in Crestwood,” Anders commented.  “I wonder if they’re related.”

“Maybe the mayor was Teagan all along,” Elisabeta mused.  “He was supposedly in Denerim when Loghain proclaimed himself as regent.   He could have then posed as their mayor.  After drowning all those innocents, he ran to Redcliffe; right in time to deal with the undead his nephew had raised.  Or rather, not deal with them and leave them for the Grey Wardens to take care of.”

“That’s a stretch,” Leliana decided.  “The part of him being both the mayor and Bann Teagan.  You’re right about him leaving the undead for the Grey Wardens.”

“Then he decides to insult us at an Exalted Council,” Solona added.

“That’s why we’re also…”  Anders stopped and shook his head.  “No, I should wait and let you enjoy this as it unfolds.”

“What have you done?”  Elisabeta narrowed her eyes at Anders.

Solona grinned.  “We fed him herbs that make him feel nauseated and bloated.”

“That’s not… too bad,” Elisabeta decided.

“We might have also hexed him, so he is going to have a distended belly and his chest is…”  Anders coughed.

“Going to also expand a bit,” Solona declared.

“I am contacting every healer in Thedas I know,” Anders continued.  “They will all tell him that… he is in delicate condition.”

“We also got the local healers in Halamshiral to agree to this,” Solona’s grin widened.

“How did you do that?”  Leliana wanted to know.

“Oh, Anders is a hero among many mages,” Solona confided.  “Yes, he caused problems for some, but most mages yearned for freedom.  I wouldn’t be surprised if someone puts a statue of him up in a town square one day.”  She beamed proudly at her boyfriend.

“But men cannot have babies,” Leliana pointed out.

Elisabeta agreed with her, but she was trying not to laugh.  She was enjoying this as much as Anders and Solona.

“I’m waiting until he starts reminding everyone of that,” Anders chuckled evilly.  “That’s why the other healers have to be in on this.  Adrianna is going to say something about him looking gravid when the Council reconvenes tomorrow.”

“I have to add this to my message to Morrigan,” Elisabeta decided.  “She can’t be left out.”

“Elisabeta!”  Leliana objected.

“What?”  Elisabeta fluttered her eyelids innocently.  “There is no way she’s going to stay away knowing this.”

“Oh, you might also want to have someone on hand to deal with the nugs,” Solona advised as she and Anders left.

“No nugs better get hurt in your pranks!” Leliana shouted after them.

The tavern was brimming with business when Elisabeta entered.  Both Sera and Bull were in the exact chairs she’d seen them in the last time she’d been there.  Sera had collected more friends, and Elisabeta wondered if they were the other Red Jennys.  Was the Exalted Council important enough for random Red Jennys to show up?  She’d have to ask Sera when they went back through the Eluvian.

She noticed Cullen and Adrianna nearby with their son.  They were breaking bread and she watched Cullen reach out and move a strand of Adrianna’s hair out of her face.  Her friend already looked tired.

Alistair had managed to secure a table for them.  Thorn was sitting on one of the other chairs and growling at any Orlesians who dared come close to her, defending the seats, and the space, from them.

Andie sat on the table itself, she had her rattle in one hand and was gnawing on the handle of a spoon.  It looked clean. 

“There you are, my love,” Alistair stood as she approached.

Thorn gave her a bark of welcome. 

“I’ve ordered tea, but thought I’d wait for you before ordering anything stronger.”  He held out her seat and then retook his own.  “You’re probably hungry after fighting all of those Qunari.”

“I am,” she admitted.  “I’m also looking forward to our entertainment.  I don’t recall it being Andie.”

“She’s enough entertainment for herself,” Alistair smiled fondly at their daughter.  “I sent Teagan a note.  We’ll see if he shows up.  He’s afraid of you, you know.”

“Oh, so he isn’t completely stupid,” she observed.  “Just dumb enough to insult me… as well as the Grey Wardens, the Inquisition, the Free Mages, am I forgetting anyone?”

“Alistair!”  Teagan came rushing in.  “You must do something about your…”  He stopped when he saw Elisabeta.  “Oh, I see you’ve deigned to return.”

“That’s ‘deigned to return, Your Highness’,” Elisabeta corrected him.

“I would rather think of you as the Inquisitor during the Exalted Council,” Teagan kept his voice smooth.

“You do that,” she shrugged and leaned back in her chair.  “I like it when my enemies underestimate me.  It makes them easier to kill.”

Teagan gulped.  “Do you plan to kill me?”  Then he squared his shoulders.  “I mean… you can’t threaten to kill me.  Not even you can get away with murder.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”  She smiled sweetly.  “Of course, it is less messy to just destroy you without getting my hands bloody.”

“Did you just say getting your hands bloody?”  A newcomer entered the tavern.  “I thought it was my job to get my hands bloody for you.”

“Zevran!”  Elisabeta shot to her feet and ran to her friend.  “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Yes, well… Josie told me all about this so-called Exalted Council and how the Chantry, along with Ferelden and Orlais, were trying to bully you,” he explained.  “I thought to myself ‘Zevran, why are you not there defending your deadly goddess and your delicate piece of fruit?  If Ferelden is trying to bully my little cherry and Ferelden’s own hero, then I need to go cut a few throats until they learn respect’.  So, I killed my quarry quickly and rushed to Halamshiral to be with all of you.  While I was coming, Isabela and Hawke sent me another note saying there was trouble and the Ferelden Ambassador was insulting the mighty Grey Wardens.”  He gave Teagan a sideways look.  “That would be you, wouldn’t it, you naughty man?  I’ll plan a comeuppance for that.”

“You mean you aren’t the one who spread honey all over my rooms and then let bees in?”  Teagan glared.

“No, I just got here,” Zevran assured him.  “I would have released a bear, not bees.  There are plenty of bears in Ferelden, I could have had one brought here.”

“There are bees in your room?”  Alistair raised his eyebrows.  He then looked over to where Sera and her friends were drinking.

“Sera was with me in the Crossroads,” Elisabeta reminded him.  “Not even she had time to do it.”

“Then it was your other friends,” Teagan’s voice was sure.

“Oh, no, they have something far worse planned,” she assured him.  “Why did you decide to return to Ferelden?”

He fidgeted.  “I missed my home.”

“Sure, you did,” she grumbled.  “Was it the attacks by darkspawn, the undead, or the mages and Templars determined to kill each other?  Redcliffe is such a paradise to live in.”

“It is,” Teagan insisted.

“I believe the note I sent said I wanted you to come dance for my entertainment,” Alistair grinned at his wife.  “I thought it an enjoyable way to punish you for your comments about the Grey Wardens, after they saved your life, along with the rest of Redcliffe.”

“Alistair, surely that part of the note was a joke,” Teagan objected.

“You danced for a demon,” Elisabeta reminded him.  “Why not dance for your king?”

“I… I was under the influence,” Teagan objected.  “The influence of a demon.”

“Then let’s get you back under the influence,” Zevran slung an arm around him.  “I’ll just send a messenger to my currant, letting her know I’ve arrived.  You’ll come join my Bull man and get sauced.”

“I’m not…”  Teagan began to object as Zevran led him off.

“There goes our entertainment,” Elisabeta sighed.  She turned as the barmaid arrived.  “I’d like a wine and the roast.”

“Of course, my lady.”  She grinned at Alistair and leaned forward a little, showing her low cleavage.  “And you, my lord?”

“The same, but make mine an ale,” he ignored her offerings.  “And send that ambassador three whiskeys, tell him they’re from an admirer… an attractive female admirer.”  He handed her a gold piece.  “For the trouble.  Oh, and a meat bone for my mabari.”

Thorne barked in agreement. 

“Of course,” she left.

“I promise you that Teagan will be on a table, dancing, before the end of the night,” Alistair assured his wife.

“You’re going to have to order him to do it,” she insisted.

“Are you doubting me, my love?”  Alistair flashed her a mischievous smile.  “I’m a bad, bad man.”

“You’re my bad, bad man,” she kissed him lightly.  “I’m betting you that he’ll be passed out before the end of the night.”

“Oh, is that a bet?”  He returned her kiss.  “Very well, if I’m right then you have to play the randy Chantry Sister and the randy penitent.”

“The…”  She thought about it for a second and then laughed.  “Very well.  If I win then, you have to play the Inquisitor and the handsome farm boy with dark secrets.”

“Hmmm…”  He purred.  “What sorts of dark secrets?”

“I don’t know… yet,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Dancing to the feel of the drum

Leave this world behind

We'll have a drink and toast to ourselves

Under a Violet Moon

Denerim Rose with her hair in curls

Will make you turn and stare

Try to steal a kiss at the bridge

Under a Violet Moon

Teagan danced on the table in front of Alistair and Elisabeta.  Andie was now set on her mother’s lap.  He lurched a bit, but did a passable job for someone who wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.  He wouldn’t remember, but everyone else would.  He would be sung to and reminded by a large portion of those in Halamshiral, who were even now gathered around the table.

“Dance for me, ambassador!”  Krem called.  Then he turned to Stitches.  “Should he be drinking that much in his condition?”

“This is so embarrassing,” Cassandra muttered.

“I have fifty silvers that he will pass out on the second song,” Varric informed her.

Cassandra studied him for a moment, considering.  “Put me down for the middle of the third song.  He might last longer than that.  What does Bull have?”

“Oh, he says he’ll go down before the end of the first song,” Varric confided.  “The man can’t handle whisky and Bull thinks he’s a light weight.  I think he’s too full of himself to go down that early.”

She nodded.  “You’re right.  Did you set this up?”

“No,” he assured her.  “But I wish I did.”

Solona and Anders passed them, giving a small wave, as they made their way to Elisabeta and Alistair’s table.

“This is really undignified,” Josephine came down and sat behind them.  Zevran was now at her side.

“But you’ll use this to blackmail him, won’t you?”  Cassandra smiled at her.

“Oh, yes, yes, I will,” Josephine assured her.

“This was his own king,” Zevran confided.  “Insulting the Grey Wardens was a mistake, as was going after Lissa.” 

The olde village lanterne

Is calling me onward

Leading wherever I roam

The olde village lanterne

A light in the dark

Bringing me closer to home...

Teagan continued to dance, while Andie laughed.  The baby thought he was the most amusing thing ever.

“Should he be doing that in his delicate condition?”  Sera came to join Elisabeta’s table.

The table had grown larger.  Anders and Solona also sat around it, watching the ambassador dance.  He was on his third song.

“Oh, you heard about his pregnancy?”  Anders didn’t even crack a smile to show that the rumors were a joke.

“How did that happen?  It was magic, wasn’t it?”  Sera shuddered.

“It was a type of vengeance magic,” Solona agreed.  “I heard that he may be responsible for someone else’s pregnancy.  Perhaps you and your friends could help bring anything to light.”

“He what?”  Alistair leaned forward.  Elisabeta hadn’t had time to tell him about the rumors.

“He left some girl high and large and then came to attack the Inquisition, yeah?”  Sera’s eyes narrowed.  “My friends and I will be happy to help.”

Chapter Text

Alistair walked Elisabeta to the Eluvian, which was now under heavy guard.  One of the guards, however, raised a hand and waved to them.  Alistair waved back.

Despite her need to go fight Qunari, Elisabeta and Alistair had a late night.  She had seen the goddess, Andraste, in her dreams the night before.  The goddess wouldn’t tell her exactly what was going on, but insisted that she had to stop the Qunari.  Whatever they were up to, it was bad.

That wasn’t why she was so tired, though.  She’d had little sleep.  After all, she’d lost a bet and had to pay up.  She’d enjoyed every moment of it.  Now she kissed her husband in front of the mirror.

She ignored the hoots and cat calls of her team, her were all almost assembled. 

She’d lost Leliana, who had to stay and run the Exalted Council; even though Elisabeta had told her it was just another stab of betrayal.  Josephine had insisted.  Adrianna and Cullen had both pointed out that if the Divine wasn’t there, they couldn’t even have an Exalted Council.  Josephine had insisted that would make things even worse in the long run.

She had replaced her archer with two mages.  Solona and Anders were now going with them.  Anders insisted he’d healed enough wounds inflicted by Qunari to doubt that he’d be needed. 

Solona insisted that she’d already set her business in Halamshiral in motion, and she wanted to go fight the Qunari now.  Elisabeta was grateful to have her.

She turned to Varric.  “Where is Hawke?  I thought the Champion of Kirkwall would want to take on more Qunari.”

“He slept in,” Cole answered.  “He wants to fight, but he also wants to disrupt the Exalted Council.  He believes that anything with the word ‘exalted’ in front of it is a farce.  He is causing a delay, while you fight.”

Elisabeta knew she’d regret her question before she even asked it.  “How is he disrupting it?”

“He and Isabela seduced the Orlesian Ambassador last night,” Cole answered.  “They’ll keep him in bed long past the time the Council should have started.  The Ferelden Ambassador is still asleep.  Head pounding, everything hurts, what did I do last night?  Can’t open my eyes, the sun’s too hot.  Why did that Orlesian ask me if I should be drinking in my condition?  What condition?  Is there something wrong with me that I don’t know?”

Bull laughed.  “I told you guys he can’t handle his alcohol.”

“You plied him with a lot, last night, Tiny,” Varric reminded him.  “How many drinks did you order after he downed those three whiskeys?  He never did spy the beautiful woman who sent him the whiskey to begin with.  Did he, Kid?”  He looked to Cole.

“There was no woman, not in Halamshiral,” Cole answered.  “There was a woman, dark haired with eyes of cut green glass.  He shouldn’t have touched her, now there is trouble; but home is safe, so he returned.”

“I don’t suppose you’re picking up a name, are you?”  Solona prompted. 

“No, but it is coming to you, on the wings of a bird,” he assured her.

“Good,” Solona smirked and spun her staff.

“Not just the answer, another bird is coming; summoned by the friend she failed to save, but who came back anyone.  Perhaps the Maker is real, she says He is.  She may not have faith in Him, but she does in her friend; so, she comes.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the Council for you, Beta,” Alistair promised.  “Hopefully, my mere presence will keep Teagan in line.”

“Apparently, he’s not even up yet,” Elisabeta grinned.  “That sounds like quite the hang over.  I hope the Qunari are as easy to deal with.”

“Perhaps they’ve heard you’re coming for them and are running scared.  It would be the smart thing to do.”  He leaned forward and kissed her again.  “I’ll see you when you get back, My Love.”

“I’ll see you then,” she agreed.  “Perhaps by then we can just break this mirror, because I’m getting sick of stepping through these things.”

“No, it’s bad luck to break a normal mirror,” Sera reminded her.  “It would be worse if you broke one of these.”

Elisabeta sighed.  “You’re probably right.”  She stepped through the Eluvian.

A trio of Qunari were running across the Crossroads when Elisabeta emerged back into them.  Something about the sight just seemed very wrong.

She chased after them.  They glanced back at her, their eyes widening.  Good, they should be concerned.  Then they jumped through another Eluvian.

Elisabeta cursed as she followed.

Chapter Text

“Where is the real Inquisitor?”  Teagan demanded to know.

“She’s taking care of more important matters,” Adrianna informed him, coolly.  “In her absence, I am the leader of the Inquisition.  You may deal with me until she has time for this charade.”

“This is not a charade!”  Teagan pounded his fist on the table and then put both hands up to his head.

“Are we a bit hung over?”  Hawke taunted from the audience.

“Ten silver says I could drink him under the table,” Isabela shouted.

“Alas, Varric isn’t here to arrange the betting pool,” Zevran came and sat down beside him.  “Besides, we know Teagan can’t hold his drink, he can barely hold his sword.”  He said the last part loud enough to ensure that those in the front of the room could hear him.”

Merrill stood and faced the ambassadors.  “Perhaps we could make it more like charades.  That would definitely be more fun.  You can state your claims and complaints by making hand gestures and we will all guess what you mean.”

“I know I’d enjoy this more,” Adrianna grumbled.

“It would be more fun,” Alistair agreed.  He balanced Andromeda on his lap.  “From the way Teagan is now rubbing his temples, I would say he wants there to be more dancing in the Inquisition… or perhaps here at the Exalted Council.  Either would be more fun.”

“I don’t dance.”  Cullen sat beside him, with Bran.  “You of all people know that Templars aren’t trained to dance.  Where did you learn?”

“Beta started teaching me during the Blight,” Alistair recalled.  “Then I took lessons afterward, because everyone expects the king to know how to dance.”

“I don’t want a dance!”  Teagan declared through grit teeth.  “Nor do I want to play charades.”

“What are charades?”  A new voice asked.  Everyone turned to see Morrigan stroll into the room.

“Oh, Sweet Maker,” Leliana cursed.   Then she quickly continued speaking.  “We ask you to bless this most Exalted Council, so Your work is done here.”

“I’m sure your Maker is thrilled that you think he approves of this farce,” Morrigan sat down beside Zevran.

Alistair leaned forward.  “How did you get here so fast?”  He hissed at Morrigan.

She glanced back at him and shrugged lightly.  “I flew.”  Then she turned to Teagan.  “I hear you don’t like Grey Wardens, Ambassador.  Is it because they decided to save your village, while you cowered in the Chantry?  I did advise they leave you all to die.  I’m sure they’re now regretting not taking my advice.”

“I never thought that day would ever come,” Alistair agreed.  “Yet, it seems to be the second time I should have listened to her.  Not that I would ever want the people of Redcliffe to die, but she’s right; your comments about the Grey Wardens have gotten you in hot water, Teagan.  So hot, that I am still talking Beta out of having you boiled in oil.”

“I may like to see that,” Merrill mused.  “Is it horrible or is it like a hot bath?”

“It’s horrible,” Isabela assured her.

“Why don’t you finish going over your position, Teagan,” Leliana urged.  “Then the Orlesian Ambassador will go over his.”

Chapter Text

“Why am I in the fucking Deep Roads!”  Elisabeta screamed.

“Whoa, Boss,” The Iron Bull grinned.  “I’ve never heard you cuss like this before.

“Yeah, keep it up!”  Sera whooped.

“I don’t like the Deep Roads!”  Elisabeta vented.  “This is where Grey Wardens go to die!  And where dwarves send those they can’t be bothered to execute themselves!”

“They feel it’s kinder,” Varric explained.  “If they’re truly innocent, the Ancestors will protect them.  Of course, that’s a bunch of bullshit.  They’re left at the mercy of the darkspawn, not the ancestors.”

As Elisabeta looked around, movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.  A Qunari was running away from her.  She lifted Excalibur and shot ice at the soldier.  He stood frozen, as Sera filled him with arrows.

Elisabeta cautiously led her team around a corner and two Qunari came rushing at them.  One carried large swords, the other the biggest war hammer she’d ever seen.  She blended into shadows and came up behind the one with the swords.  Swinging out in a crippling move, she forced him to his knees.  Then her swords flashed as she crossed her arms, beheading him.

The one with the large hammer didn’t glance up when storm clouds appeared above his head.  Lightning cackled and then struck him.  Still, he charged Cassandra, who managed to block his hammer with her shield. 

“I’m going to be feeling that for days,” she grunted.  She moved to strike him, but he had been encased in an electric cage.

“Are we going to just leave him like that?” Sera wondered.

“No,” Solona smiled and the Qunari screamed.  “You’ll notice that it is slowly getting smaller and smaller.  It will eventually crush him.  He’ll be dead from the lightning strikes, though. 

Sure enough, the Qunari tried to break free and was stuck by lightning yet again.

“This is why I try not to get into too many arguments with her,” Anders confided to the Iron Bull as he glanced at his girlfriend’s victim.

“There are more up ahead,” Dorian quietly rushed forward, setting fire mines under a trio of Qunari that were up the hallway.

Varric was right behind him, Bianca in hand.  She sent bolt after bolt into the Qunari.

The Iron Bull gave a warrior’s cry as he gave chase, laughing as one of his prey stepped on a fire mine and was shot into the air.  His large, two-handed sword sung as it slashed through the air and into one of the Qun.

Elisabeta landed on the last one, burying Excalibur into the back of his neck and then yanking her beloved sword out.

“Why did one of the mirrors dump us into dwarfy things?”  Sera complained as she stepped over a dead Qunari and why do we keep going through the wanky things?”

Elisabeta had to agree with her about going through the Eluvian, but she really didn’t have much of a choice.  “We wouldn’t have to if the Qunari weren’t using them for nefarious purposes.  But, no, they had to start skipping through mirrors to mess with the south.  They couldn’t just stay home and read about Kouslan or whatever his name is.  They had to come traipsing into the Winter Palace after my supposed friends decided to call an Exalted Council and force the Inquisition to come.  Now, we have to find out what these Qunari were up to.  So, let’s go see, shall we?”

“It’ll be fun,” Cassandra assured her.  “You’ll get to shoot more people, Sera.”

“There’s that,” Sera agreed.  “I do like sticking arrows in things.”

“Look, there’s a grand staircase here,” Elisabeta observed as she came to the end of the hall.  “Oh!  And a book.”  She sat down on a nearby bench.  “And it’s in Qunlat,” she grumbled.  “Oh, and someone’s been sketching the area and doing math.  Who would besmirch a book with match like this?  Plus, someone ripped out a page!  It looks like they used their teeth!”  She held the book up for others to see.  “Who would violate a book like this?  And blood, someone bled on this book!  They couldn’t go bleed somewhere else?”  Between the blood and the dust, the book was barely legible anymore.  It made her sad.

“It looks like there was a bad cave in,” Solona observed as she scanned the area.  “It would explain the blood and dust on the book.  Irving would have an apoplexy if he saw a book in that state, but it doesn’t look intentional… except the page being ripped out.  And, yes, it does look like they used their teeth, the heathens.”  She examined the bodies.  “Look, this one was carrying veil quartz.”

“We found those when we went to close the rifts in the Frostback Mountains,” Elisabeta recalled.

“That’s when we found the old Inquisitor,” Varric reminded her.  “Good times, even if you weren’t able to do much fighting, Stormy.”

“I was in my second trimester of my pregnancy,” Elisabeta reminded him.  “Alistair was tied in knots over me just going.  Adrianna and Solona did most of the fighting.  I had to ride behind.  Still, what are Qunari doing messing with magic stones.  I don’t like this.”

She headed down the stairs and paused halfway down.  She could see scaffolding and mining equipment.  “Look at that.  The Qunari have a huge operation here.”

“But why,” Cassandra wanted to know.

The ground shook beneath her feet, as Elisabeta heard an explosion in the distance.  “Those fools!  They could bring the whole cavern down.”

“And you know darkspawn are going to appear the moment they do,” Solona added.  “They always do, especially when someone is messing in the Deep Roads.”

“This place isn’t stable,” Elisabeta agreed.  “I’m regretting not bringing Thom.   I have a feeling I’m going to need all the Grey Wardens I can get.  Still, the Qunari are my first priority and finding out what idiocy they’re up to.”

She lifted her hand and caused the light that had started coming out of it the day before to form around her.  Glancing around, she found a door.  “In here.”

Chapter Text

“Therefore, the Inquisition needs oversight,” Cyril de Montfort declared.  “I’m sure the Inquisitor didn’t mean to insult Orlais, but she did.”

Oh, she meant the insult, Alistair was sure of it.  Andie shook her rattle at the ambassador, either as further insult or an attempt at a curse.

“And I’m sure she didn’t mean to save Empress Celene from an assassin!”  Zevran shouted out.  “That was just a bi-product of protecting all of Thedas!”

“Darling,” Josephine looked over at him and shook her head.

“Oh, she knew she was saving them from their own pride and hubris,” Morrigan stood and approached the trio in the front of the room.

“This Council has not recognized the Fereldan Apostate,” Teagan declared through his clenched teeth.

“The Fereldan Apostate is Anders!”  Hawke shouted.  “Get the nicknames right.  I swear, we need Varric here to keep you guys straight.”

“The audience will remain silent and respectful, or I will have this room cleared!”  Teagan declared.

Leliana put her face in her hands and groaned for a moment.

“You will?”  Adrianna stood.  “Good, I’ll just go take Bran and we’ll go play with our new dog.”

Alistair glanced at Cullen.  “You got a dog.”

“It’s a mabari,” Cullen grinned.  Then his face fell.  “Someone just left the poor thing here, in Orlais.”

“No Fereldan deserves to be abandoned in Orlais,” Alistair agreed.

“Sit down,” Josephine put a gentle hand on Adrianna’s arm.  “Teagan, we apologize for the outbursts.”

“No, we do not,” Morrigan countered.  “Do you think calling me an apostate is an insult?  I was proud to be an apostate while you still had most mages locked up in their gilded cages.”

“According to Anders, they weren’t so gilded,” Isabela spoke up again.  “Just look at how many times he escaped.”

“That’s right.”  Garett Hawke stood up and thrust his fist into the air.  “Mage rights or mage fights!”

“The mages did fight,” Leliana gently reminded him.  “You’re free now.  This body acknowledges your freedom.  Can we continue with the Council, please?”

“’Tis not a council,” Morrigan laughed, the laugh was eerily like that of her mother.  “’Tis two scared boys, trying to act tough and a woman who’s wearing robes too big for her.  They make you look pregnant, by the way, Leliana.”

“That’s it!”  Teagan stood up.  “Guards, remove this woman!” 

The Inquisition guards just looked at him, then looked at each other, and then back at him.  None of them moved.

The Fereldan guards began to move forward.  Alistair stood, balancing Andie in front of him, so she was still in a sitting position and still waving her rattle.  Now she waved it at Morrigan, almost as if in greeting.  Morrigan gave her a small wave back.  

“Hold!” The Fereldan King demanded.  “As much as I would love to see Morrigan dragged from somewhere, it would make the queen very testy and she would take it out on all of you, before then moving on to me.”

The guards all took a step back.

Teagan and Leliana both looked to Ambassador de Montford.  He just shook his head.  Then he turned to Morrigan.  “Do you have anything useful to add to this Exalted Council?”

“Oh, yes,” Morrigan assured him.  “First, I suggest that you change the name from ‘Exalted Council’, it makes all of you sound pompous.  Then I shall discuss the continued dangers to Thedas.  Let us start with the remaining two Old Gods, future Arch-demons, if you will think of them that way.  The Grey Wardens are needed to fight them and the Inquisition has evidence that one is right under Orlais.  If the Fereldan Ambassador had his way, there would be no Grey Wardens to protect Orlais or Ferelden.  After I discuss the importance of the Grey Wardens, I shall remind you of the need to ensure the remaining Templars allow the mages to set up their colleges and police themselves without interference.  Another war between the two groups may be disastrous, especially with the portents that there is a greater danger coming and the woman who saved, and quietly guided, the last two great Thedosian heroes seems to have disappeared.  Now it is up to me to guide our heroes and I will not have you getting in my way.”

Chapter Text

Elisabeta wound her way through ruins in the Deep Roads, she knew the Qunari were nearby, but also kept an eye out for darkspawn.  The Qunari obviously didn’t know the danger they were in.  “Varric,” she glanced at her friend.  “Have you ever seen such darkspawn free Deep Roads before?  I mean outside of Orzammar?”

“I’ve never been to Orzammar, Stormy,” he reminded her.  “Not all of us are buddies with King Bhelen.”

“That’s because you didn’t put him on his throne,” she confided.  “Too bad we left Thom in Halamshiral.  We might need a real Grey Warden about now.”

“I’ll go get him,” Sera volunteered.  “I mean if it’s important… with this being the Deep Roads and All.”

“I’ll go with her, Boss,” The Iron Bull volunteered.

Elisabeta nodded.  “We’ll wait, but hurry.  I don’t like what I’m seeing down here.”

Sera and Bull were back within the hour, with Thom Raineer in tow.

“I don’t know why you left me in the first place,” Thom reprimanded them.

“You were still sleeping,” Sera informed him.  “You can’t hold your liquor like Bull and I.”

“Was it the nightmares?”  Elisabeta pried.  “I know they’re not as bad when there isn’t a Blight, but they were… bad.”

“They’re worse during a Blight?”  Thom paled some.

“During a Blight, you get to see the archdemon and here him talking,” she said with faux enthusiasm.  “He can see you, too, during those times.  Ah, the good fun.”

Thom just shuddered.  Then looked around.  “I don’t see any darkspawn.”

“Which isn’t normal for the Deep Roads,” Elisabeta pointed out.  “If the Qunari cleaned them out, it could be likely that a few were Tainted.  And if they dragged any of the women away… she shuddered.”

“Wait, why would they want the women?”  Bull wanted to know.

“Don’t answer that,” Sera pleaded.

“That’s not a conversation you want to have sober,” Elisabeta assured him.  “Let’s keep going.”

Elisabeta kept ‘deploying’ the anchor, lighting the area around here.  “I hope I’m not attracting any Qunari or darkspawn doing this.”

“Hopefully, you’re freaking them out,” Sera commented.  “I know you’re freaking me out.”

“Trying being on the other end of this thing,” Elisabeta muttered.  “It’s even freakier.  I just hope it doesn’t go off when I’m playing the Randy Prince and the Chaste Lady of the Court tonight.”

“The what?”  Dorian had been rather silent all day, but now spoke up.

“We pretend the lady is betrothed to a minor lord,” she further explained.  “But she just can’t resist the Randy Prince, who’s handsome and completely smitten with her.”

“That’s a little too much information,” Cassandra muttered.

The Iron Bull obviously didn’t think so.  He chuckled.  “Oh, Randy Prince,” his voice went high, falsetto.  “I’m a pure, chaste lady, but you cause my smalls to quiver with your handsome, suave ways.”

“That’s right, my beauty,” Dorian’s voice deepened even lower.  “You cannot resist my handsome and licentious person.  You thought you wanted that meek, minor lord whom you could persuade with your beauty and wiles, but now you know it is I you want.”

“I shouldn’t,” Bull fluttered his eyelashes.  “But I can’t help myself.  You are so lascivious that I must throw myself on you and beg for you to take me here, in front of the entire court!”

Sera was laughing now.  “No, it’s,” her voice lowered, “I have had my way with many a lady, but will forsake them all for your forbidden fruit.  Forbidden fruit is the tastiest, and I want to taste yours all the rest of my days.”

Cassandra made a disgusted sound and Thom’s cheeks were bright pink.

“Why does he want fruit?  Couldn’t he just have his servants get him fruit?”  Cole wondered.

Now Elisabeta stumbled.  She shook her head.  “Well, we can’t all play Strong Lustful Qunari Ben Hassrath and dazzlingly beautiful Tevinter Mage every single night.”  She lowered her own voice.  “Koslun and the Qun have taught me that magic is bad, but you have magicked my heart and my loins, I am helpless against you.”

Sera also lowered her voice again.  “Yes, I know, out of one to ten, I am a twelve.  Yet your brutish ways excite me as I’ve never been excited before.  I want you to use that big club you like to wield on my most amazing person.”

“I shouldn’t,” Elisabeta laid the back of her hand against her forehead and tilted her head back.  “Yet, I am helpless to resist you.  You are even hotter than the flames your magic produces.  Together, we could cause mayhem!”

“Oh, yes,” Sera answered.  “Mayhem me, baby, mayhem me!”

Thom Raineer slumped against a nearby wall, trying, and failing, to keep his composure.  “Are you guys done yet?”

Cassandra just made another disgusted noise.

“How do you know what they say to each other at night?”  Cole wanted to know.

Now Solona leaned against Anders and started laughing, tears coming down from her eyes.  “I…”

“It puts the naughty mage and randy templar to shame, that’s for sure,” Anders agreed.

“Neither of us are…”  Solona stopped and struggled to breath as laughter took her.  She visibly swallowed.  “Neither of us are…”  She lost it again.  “Templars!”  She quickly got out.  “We’re both mages.”

“Perhaps we should try naughty mage and templar spy,” Anders suggested.

“I think we should try the raging Qunari and the irresistible mage next,” she disagreed.

“Let’s get going,” Cassandra’s sound of disgust was more disgusted than any of those she’d made before.

As she moved through the Deep Roads, Elisabeta found a torn page tucked into an alcove by a set of stairs.  It looked like it had been torn from a diary or set of pages.  The beginning looked like someone taking notes as they learned a new language.  Then came some personal thoughts.

If Fen’Harel truly has agents working against us, then the Dread Wolf must be laughing at me.  The Blight took my clan, so I went to Kirkwall.  Kirkwall went to ruin, so I fled to the Qun.  Now the Qunari have brought me down to the lightless depths, and for what?  Because the nursery rhymes I remember from childhood make me an expert on Ancient Elves?

These statues are old and in better shape than anything I’ve seen on the surface.  Many of them are for Mythal, though.  And Fen’Harel, but he is not in a spot of honor, rather he is guarding, attending.

Protector and All-Mother, why are you honored here, so far from the light of sun?  And why was the Dread Wolf at your side?

Those were good questions. 

Elisabeta showed the paper to the rest of her team.  “And those fucking Qunari have probably destroyed those ancient statues, that history…”  She would kill them for that alone.

“It’s a shame,” Bull agreed.  “But they don’t like false gods.”

“I know Mythal personally,” Elisabeta reminded him.  “I don’t think she’d like you calling her false.  Did she have worshippers down here?  Did her people do business with the dwarves that lived here?”

“He’s Dalish,” Sera was offended by that.  “I don’t care what he’s lost, elfy-elves shouldn’t join the Qun.  It’s… it’s a betrayal to everything they were taught.”

“We found a lot of statues of Fen’Harel at the Temple of Mythal, as well,” Dorian remembered.  “Perhaps, if you ever talk to Flemeth again, you can ask her about it.  I want to know the whole story.  Were they siblings?  friends?  Lovers?  All three?”

Elisabeta soon found herself fighting deepstalkers, but was still shocked that she hadn’t encountered any darkspawn.

“I really don’t sense any,” Blackwall insisted.

“I went through the Deep Roads during a Blight, when they were supposed to all be on the surface, and I kept stumbling over the creatures!”  Elisabeta hissed, even as she beheaded one of the deepstalkers.  “There is something unfair about this!”

“You want to fight darkspawn?”  Sera was incredulous.  “No thank you!”

“I want to sic them on the Qunari!”  Elisabeta kicked another deepstalker, even as she stabbed one of its companions.

When they had finished with the deepstalkers, they went through a nearby doorway.  They found themselves in collapsed remains of yet more ruins.

“Who finds a place like this and digs in?”  Sera demanded to know.  “And how is it not stupid?”

“Out of all of the places we’ve been in, I didn’t expect to find us in another cave,” Cassandra admitted.

“Have I mentioned that I hate caves?”  Varric muttered.

“I hate caves, the Fade, being underground… have I forgotten anything?”  Sera made a disgusted sound that didn’t quite come up to the quality of Cassandra’s, but it expressed her emotions well enough.  “Cave beats Fade, though, barely.”

“No one likes the Deep Roads,” Anders assured her.

“I don’t think the dwarves don’t even really like the Deep Roads,” Solona agreed.

“This dwarf doesn’t,” Varric confirmed.  “My brother, Bartrand, on the other hand adored Orzammar and bemoaned having ever left.”

Elisabeta noticed another opening.  There was light, it appeared to be firelight, coming from the direction that she was heading.  “There’s someone up ahead.”

Elisabeta jumped off a small ledge and into a cavernous room.  There was a human, a human, sitting in front of the fire.

The man stood up; sword drawn.  “Stand back,” he insisted.  Then he lowered his sword.  “Wait, your hand… are you the Inquisitor?”

“There are some people who call me that,” Elisabeta admitted.  “I find it odd to find a fellow human down in the Deep Roads at all, let alone one surrounded by Qunari.”

The man didn’t explain his presence.  “We don’t have much time,” he proclaimed.  “Please, what the Viddasala is doing…  You have to stop her.”

“The Viddasala?”  Elisabeta had no idea who he was talking about.

“She’s the leader of the Qunari here,” the man helpfully explained.  “She hates magic.  Her job was to study it and stop it at all costs.”  He shook his head.  “Not anymore.  I don’t care if you serve Fen’Harel or not, someone has to stop her.”

“Fen’Harel?”  Elisabeta’s eyebrows rose.  “Do I look like I serve Fen’Harel.  I am the Herald of Andraste and She would be quite put out with me if I decided to serve Fen’Harel.  Why do the Qunari believe I serve Fen’Harel?  Have they been eating strange mushrooms, chewing on felandaris?  Was there a cave in and they got hit in the head with a bunch of rocks?  Why do they think I serve Fen’Harel?  Why would they think anyone in the Inquisition serves Fen’Harel?  This I have to hear.”

“I don’t know,” the man became defensive and then evasive, righting the cuffs on his sleeves.  “The Viddasala said it and then we were… she’s our leader, she gets the intelligence reports!  If anyone would know such things it would be her!”

“Oh, so the Viddysilly says it’s so and you all just believe her,” Sera snorted in derision.

“We’ve had Agents of Fen’Harel causing trouble all over the Crossroads,” the man declared.  “Sabotage, making spirits attack us…”  He stopped and shook his head again.  “I assumed the Inquisition was their army.  That you came here because Fen’Harel told you to.”

Sera gave another snort.

The Iron Bull started laughing.

“Sure,” Solona rolled her eyes.  “The Hero of Ferelden is going to do what some old god told her to.  The Hero of Ferelden, who killed an archdemon, which is a tainted Old God by the way.  Then she was raised from the dead by Andraste.  Sure, she’s going to obey Fen’Harel.  Uh, huh.”  She rolled her eyes again and then gave him a pointed look.

“Darling, you didn’t see the Qunari who camped out in Kirkwall,” Anders reminded her.  “Some of them were only barely more intelligent than a horde of darkspawn.  They did what their leader told them to without question.  And he just sat on some throne in the compound they made on the docks, I think he was the leader because he had the most chiseled chest or biggest horns or something.  He never left.  He just sat there insulting the locals.  Then he decided to conquer the place while Hawke was in town.  I mean, he was right there in the compound when everything started.  They didn’t even wait until Hawke was on the coast or up in the mountains.  No, their Arishok said attack and they went crazy, setting everything on fire, with Hawke and Aveline right there!  They actually thought they could kill them first!  They did get a few guards.”

“I remember that,” Varric agreed.  “There I was, having a nice drink in the Hanged Man and the next thing I knew… pandemonium.  People running in the streets, cats and dogs living together.”

“No one’s ever had a nice drink in the Hanged Man,” Solona reminded him.

“The company was nice,” Varric insisted.

“Who are you?”  Elisabeta questioned the human.

“My name is Jarrod,” he introduced himself.  “Ser Jarrod once.  I was a Templar in Kirkwall, until I joined the Qun.”

“Look, darling,” Anders took Solona’s hand.  “He was so afraid of me and the others in the underground, that he ran from the Gallows.”

“You guys were scary,” Varric agreed.  “Even before you started blowing up buildings.”

“You’re Qunari?”  Elisabeta didn’t like that one bit.

“Kirkwall was madness,” the former Templar claimed.  “Chaos.  The Qunari were like they eye of a storm.”

“They just seemed that way because they were in the middle of the Docks,” Varric informed him.  “Things are rough during the storms.   The walls they put up in that compound of theirs meant you couldn’t see the ships tossing on the water.”

“I stand for discipline, order,” he declared.  “Protecting the innocent from magic.”  He didn’t notice Anders and Solona both rolling their eyes.  “But this plan, it’s as mad as Meredith ever was.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Anders muttered.

“Meredith was pretty mad,” Varric agreed.

“Magic is not the opposite of innocence,” Solona informed him.  “Thinking there is something evil about it means you were the one harming innocents.”

“It’s like the walls of the compound, Stormy,” Varric told Elisabeta.  “He can’t see the truth, so he hid in a lie.  And Demonbane is right, those who think they are protecting others from the existence of magic are hurting innocents more than any mage.”

“My husband was raised by the Chantry, to be a Templar,” Elisabeta informed him.  “I don’t understand how you can so easily turn your back on the Maker.  Did you not believe?”

“He probably just liked hurting mages,” Anders murmured.  “I say we kill him now.”

“I have a few questions first,” Elisabeta insisted.  “What do you mean ‘the Viddasala’s not doing her job anymore’?”

“Actually, an almost complete reversal, really,” Jarrod insisted.  “This place is a lyrium mining on processing center.  The Qunari need it for…”  He stopped and then shrugged.  “Have you ever heard of Saarebas.”

“No, I’m an ignorant southerner who knows nothing about the abuses Qunari perpetrate on their own people.”  Sarcasm dripped from Elisabeta’s words.  “I’m travelling with a Tevinter Magister and two people who were in Kirkwall when an Arishok decided to raze the town, but they’ve never mentioned anything like that.”

“It’s a Qunari mage…”  Jarrod began.

“Wow, Stormy, I think your sarcasm was lost on this one,” Varric commented.

“Even as a Templar, I’ve never seen the power a Saarebas can unleash,” he cut to the chase.

“There was at least one in Kirkwall when they had that compound,” Varric informed him.  “Boy, the Templars are blind.  No wonder it was so easy to sneak mages out of the Gallows, Blondie.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Anders insisted.

“And now the Viddasala is giving them lyrium,” Jarrod corrected.  “A lot of lyrium.”  He shook his head and then put his hand to his forehead.  “It’s part of something she calls Dragon’s Breath.  There’s more to it than that, but I couldn’t find out what.  The Qunari don’t like it when you ask too many questions.”

“Yet you thought joining them was a good idea,” Cassandra’s voice was dry.

“The Grey Wardens don’t like answering questions, either,” Elisabeta recalled.  “At least not to those who are not in their order.  And for good reason, because they’re keeping secrets.  When they won’t tell other members of the Qun those secrets, it’s a bad sign.”

“You should have taken it as a sign,” Sera agreed.  “Horny Quns don’t like telling others their secrets.”

“The Qun don’t like telling each other their secrets, that’s why they have the Ben Hassrath.”

“You were stupid to abandon the Maker and join the horny cult,” Sera explained to Jarrod.

“Where are we exactly?”  Elisabeta was still trying to decide what to do with him, but she wanted her questions answered first.  “Why are there Elven Mirrors in the Deep Roads?”

“This place is close to something like a lyrium spring,” Jarrod explained.  “The more we mine, the more there seems to be.”

“The carta would have palpitations if they knew about this,” Varric observed.

“As for the mirrors, I don’t know,” Jarrod admitted.  “Maybe the elves were mining here, too.”

Except the mirrors were used by the ancient elves.  Morrigan knew about the mirrors, as did a few others, but none of them would be interested in mining their own lyrium.  They had their own concerns and were too busy to go into lyrium smuggling.

“So, you don’t know why they’re mining lyrium, but you’re down here helping them.  What was your… role?  What are you doing down here?”  She wanted to know.

“The Qunari wanted me to teach them everything I knew about lyrium; where it comes from, what it can do, how we can put it to use,” Jarrod explained.  “I knew enough from my time in the Order, they figured out more.  I’m not sure how, maybe they got to the carta.”

“And the carta didn’t want to know why they had questions?”  Varric tsked.  “Those guys are slipping.”

“Mages are obviously too smart to help them, the Qunari that is, we do know what they do to their own, so they had to go to a former Templar.”  Anders added. 

“They couldn’t go for the best, so they had to go to the addicts,” Solona agreed.

“The dwarves are the only ones who don’t die trying to mine lyrium, it’s why mages have it smuggled to them by dwarves in Dust Town,” Elisabeta revealed.  At looks from her companions, she shrugged.  “What?  I don’t have horrible secrets I’m keeping.  Yes, I’ve couriered lyrium before.  Let the Chantry try to arrest me for that.  Anyway, I’ve never seen or even heard of a dwarf joining the Qun.”

“We’re too smart for them,” Varric agreed.

“It killed the Qunari at first,” Jarrod admitted.  “The Qunari workers have a discipline only Tranquil can match and they’re quick learners.  They figured it out.”

“You say that like it’s a compliment,” Anders glared at him.  “Do you know why Tranquil have such a work discipline?  Do you know what it says about your Qunari buddies?”

“We can’t kill him right now,” Solona rubbed Anders back soothingly.  “Even if he does seem to be the type of Templar who needs to die.  Some are redeemable, look at Cullen.”

“So… Dragon’s Breath… Is that seriously the name of the plan?”  Elisabeta raised a single eyebrow.  “Qunari aren’t creative,” she ignored Bull’s sound of protest, but did acknowledge it.  “If they are, then they’re Ben Hassrath.  So, why the name?”

“You know that most dragon’s breath destroys everything in its path, right?”  He spoke.

“Only if your armor isn’t enough to protect you,” Cassandra commented.

“Ah… I’ve never tested it,” Jarrod, the not a dragon slayer, continued.  “She said it would save the south.  That can mean only one thing, an invasion.  This mine is the only source of lyrium the Qunari have.  They’re using Gatlock, the explosive powder in the round casks, in the mine, so they don’t have to touch the raw lyrium.  If you get the primers from central supply, you can prime that gatlock and detonate it.  The mines will go up in flames.

Elisabeta decided that wasn’t a bad idea.  She knew Qunari were stubborn, though, like a mabari with a very juicy nug leg being asked to give it up.  “Even if I succeed, would that really stop the Viddasala?”

“It will be a start,” the former Templar countered.  “Deepstalkers and cave ins will cut off reinforcements, but they’ll still come when they hear trouble.”

“What about the darkspawn?”  Elisabeta wanted to know.

“What darkspawn?”  Jarrod was confused.

“Exactly!”  She pointed a finger at him.  “Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “Maybe they have soldiers, and more saarebas keeping them away.  Whether they do or not, you have to get to the Viddasala to stop this war before it begins.

Elisabeta studied him for a moment, deciding whether she wanted him alive or dead.  He was a former Templar and that meant he could have been friends with Cullen.  He could have studied with Alistair.  But he’d turned his back on the Maker and joined the Qun.  Yet he now was trying to get away from those crazy Qunari.  She supposed she should give him his chance.  It was what Andraste would want her to do.  “There’s no telling how bad things will get when I destroy the mine.  You’d better get moving.  If you reach the surface, make sure you thank Andraste and Her Maker for your life.”

“I will,” he vowed.  “Good luck, Inquisitor.

Elisabeta looked at her friends.  “Let’s go, we have a lyrium mine to ruin.”  She rubbed her hands in anticipation.

Chapter Text

“We need to put in a formal objection to the Inquisitor, the real Inquisitor’s, refusal to attend the meetings of the Exalted Council!”  Teagan Guerrin demanded.

            Alistair Theirin, the King of Ferelden, merely raised an eyebrow.  “The Inquisitor did choose to attend the Exalted Council.  She’s given you her statement and made her position clear.  She just has more important things to do than attend your silly meetings, she has a representative here in her place, though.  I don’t know what you’re fussing about.”

            “You’re only taking her side, because you’re in love with her,” Teagan accused.

            “That’s possible,” Alistair admitted.  “I am here as her husband, if you have any concerns about the Council, feel free to contact the King’s Regent in Denerim.”

            “Can I presume that is Teyrn Fergus Cousland?” Teagan made it sound like some horrid accusation.

            “It is,” Alistair confirmed.  “I know I can trust him.”  He let the accusation that he could no longer trust Teagan, or his older brother, Eamon, hang in the air.

            “I see,” Teagan turned to leave and then turned back.  “Perhaps you should rethink where your loyalties truly lie, before it’s too late.”  With that Teagan turned and left.

            “No, I’m good,” Alistair assured the retreating form.

            He was still surprised when Teagan turned around and began back towards him, then he heard a carriage approaching.  Teagan looked pale, although Alistair had no idea why.

            The carriage stopped and a blonde woman jumped out, her face full of storm clouds.  When Elisabeta looked at him like that, Alistair was wise enough to hide.  He recognized the woman, or thought he did.  Beta had helped her in Redcliffe during the Blight.

            “Teagan Rendorn Guerrin, what is going on?”  The woman demanded to know.

            Alistair wanted an answer, too.

            “Kaitlyn,” Teagan’s voice was pleading.  It was nice to hear the pleads.  “I… what are you doing here?”

            “Did you think you could avoid me forever?”  Her face reddened.  “First, I heard the rumors of your conquests while you were living it up during your exile.  Then word reached me of your… condition.  I don’t know how it happened; Maker knows that I know you’re a man.  But I read about it in The Randy Dowager, so I know it’s true.  Who is he?”

            “Who is who?”  Teagan seemed genuinely confused.  “I’m here to stop the Inquisition and the heretical bitch leading them.”

            “That’s my wife you’re talking about,” Alistair growled.

            Teagan jumped, grimacing at the same time.  “Your Majesty, no disrespect… I… well, the Inquisition… they’re dangerous!  She…”  He broke off.

            “That doesn’t answer who put you in this position,” Kaitlyn narrowed her eyes and her fists clenched.

            “What position?”  Teagan still seemed to not know what was going on.  “His Majesty, King Alistair was kind enough to make me the Ambassador of Orlais.  Together, we pressured the Chantry to do something about the Inquisition.”

            “There was no ‘together’,” Alistair insisted.  “Don’t drag me into that mess.”  Elisabeta would hurt him if she thought he had something to do with the Exalted Council, which he didn’t.  “I’m here as the Inquisitor’s husband.  The Divine is babysitting our daughter right now.  I should go get her.”  He really wanted to know what Kaitlyn was doing there, though.

            “Are you the one who… impregnated him?”  Kaitlyn accused him, her fists and jaw now clenched.

            “I…”  Alistair blinked at her.  He knew that Anders and Salona had somehow started the rumor and even healers were telling Teagan that he was with child, but how could anyone believe it?  Still, he’d let Beta’s friends have their fun.  “I have never touched Teagan like that.  He’s my sort-of uncle.  It must have been one of the Orlesians.”  It was always best to blame the Orlesians.

            “Which one?”  Teagan’s wife demanded to know.  Alistair had realized that rumors of Teagan’s marriage must be true.

            “I’m not pregnant!”  Teagan shouted, loud enough for all of Halamshiral to hear him.

            “I assure you, you are,” a random healer, who was walking by, commented.

            “Hah!”  Kaitlyn pointed after him.  “The healers wouldn’t lie, and neither would The Randy Dowager.  “You might as well tell me who he is now.”

            Alistair hummed a jaunty tune as he walked away.  That should delay the Exalted Council until Elisabeta had returned.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta Cousland-Theirin emerged further into the Deep Roads.  All around her, were the sounds of mining equipment.  These were not instruments used by the dwarves, but some dastardly invention of the Qun, used to rob lyrium from Southern Thedas, for their own nefarious purposes.

            Whatever the Qunari were doing, they were not clearing up rubble or rebuilding the area they were occupying. 

“I thought the Qun like order, you’d think they’d try to restore the area before robbing it,” Elisabeta grumbled.  “As it is, this place is falling apart and they don’t care.”

“No, they’re busy attacking us!”  Sera shot two of the Qunari before the others had registered that they were there.

“What’s in the barrel beside them?”  Elisabeta asked The Iron Bull.

“Gaatlock,” he answered her.  “They’re using it on the mine, to blow rock out of their way.

“Perfect,” she grinned.  “Then I’m going to use it to blow Qunari out of my way.  Cassandra, get back here!  Stay behind me until I’m done.”

Cassandra moved back.

Elisabeta had already unsheathed Excalibur.  Now she pointed the sword at the barrel of gatlock.  She channeled flame, using magic she would deny to any non-mage that she now possessed, and sent it to the barrel.  It exploded, killing a dozen Qunari who were nearby.

“Take that, hornies!”  Sera whooped.

“Here they come!”  She shouted as more Qunari converged on them.  “Now, you can go kill the rest, Cassandra.”

“With pleasure.”  Cassandra charged at her foes, shield up and sword at the ready.  She cut down the first Qunari foolish enough to come close to her.

“Bianca’s excited,” Varric commented, as he released bolt after bolt.  “She wants to see what she can do to the next barrel of gatlock we find.”

“It makes a loud noise and they go away,” Cole sounded awed.  “It’s amazing.”

“It’s dangerous,” The Iron Bull cautioned.

“Come on, Bull,” Sera cajoled.  “It’s mayhem!”

“Mayhem!”  He repeated, fist pumping.

As more Qunari came, Elisabeta blended into the shadows.  She appeared before two of them and swept her swords, cutting into both of them.

Cassandra and Bull took out half a dozen, while her archers took care of the rest.

They continued on, but it was Bianca who got the next shot.  Dorian set fire mines under several barrels and then hooted in joy as they exploded, taking out all of the Qunari nearby.  “That is fun.”

“I know you can blow me up any day, Big Guy,” the Iron Bull wiggled his eyes brows at him.

Dorian groaned in response; a sound of disgust almost as great as the ones Cassandra made.

They continued to make their way through the Deep Roads, fighting Qunari and blowing up barrels of gaatlock.

“Last time it took an Exalted March to stop the Qunari,” Cassandra commented.  “And that barely worked.  If they strike now, Thedas may fall.”

“Yes, thank you for the history lesson,” Elisabeta muttered.  She rolled her eyes.  “My tutors didn’t cover that part of history at all.’

“They didn’t?”  Cole’s voice was shocked.

“Of course, they did!”  Elisabeta threw her hands up.  “I had the best tutors in Thedas.”

“I merely meant…”  Cassandra began, her voice even.

“I know what you meant,” Elisabeta assured her.  “We need to stop them now.  Then we need to have a nice long chat with Empress Celene.  Alistair and I do, the Inquisition could be key in combining the forces of Southern Thedas, but we would have to take care of the Exalted Council first.  Too many grand clerics oppose us, as do some of my own nobles.  I imagine Celene has a similar problem.  The thing is… things went rather south for King Cailan when he tried to ally with Orlais.  Perhaps we should have Celene discuss matters with King Marcus, while we deal with the Free Marcher city states.  Then we can come together once the other nobles realize the danger.”

“Good luck with that,” the Iron Bull warned.  “Nobles can be pretty stuck in their way.  They don’t like to admit they’re wrong and they don’t like to deal with people they don’t like.”

“Nobs screw everything up,” Sera agreed.

“They’ll have to come around, when they see the danger,” Cassandra insisted.  “The Chantry could help with that.”

“Good luck with that,” Elisabeta grumbled.  “There were reasons they had to call these things ‘Exalted Marches’.  It made the nobles feel like they were being all holy, as if they were the very arm of the Maker.  Plus, they got gold and riches from it.”

“Then they turned those exalted marches on the elves,” Bull reminded her.

“Oh, I remember,” Elisabeta assured him.

“So, do the elves,” Sera grumbled.  “I say we solve Thedas’ problems without invoking the word ‘exalted’.”

“Agreed,” Varric spoke up.  “I have never really trusted the Chantry and that distrust has managed to grow in the last few years.”

“Then come up with a plan to unite Southern Thedas without them,” Elisabeta requested.  “Maker knows, I could use one.”  She started to say more, but a group of Qunari rudely appeared before them and tried to kill them.  “We were talking!”  She shouted at one of them, even as she beheaded him.

“Yeah, stop being so rude,” Sera agreed as she filled one with arrows.

“You know my nobles will freak out if I suggest an alliance with Celene,” Elisabeta told Varric.  “Loghain turned on Cailan for it.  Of course, Cailan was going to throw Anora out and marry someone else, likely Celene, but only Loghain and Anora cared about that… or they would have been the only ones caring if it weren’t for Celene being an Orlesian.”

They continued on.  At one point, they came to a ledge with a small pathway. 

“Oh, you must be kidding!”  Elisabeta muttered.

“There might be another way around.”  Cassandra also eyed the ledge with apprehension.

“Do you want to fight through more soldiers, Cassandra?”  Bull demanded to know.

“I’m with Seeker and Tempest,” Varric announced.  “I don’t want to go on that ledge, either.”

“We’ll just have to fight through them on our way out,” Cassandra pointed out.

The entire cavern shook, large rocks falling from the ceiling, as if reminding them that time was of the essence.

“This is ridiculous!”  Elisabeta shouted.  Then she stepped on the ledge, practically hugging the rock.

“The ledge isn’t that bad, Tempest,” Bull used Varric’s nickname for Elisabeta.  The cavern shook again and Bull hugged the wall as well.

“Falling, I can’t see the bottom!”  No one was sure who Cole was picking up on.  “There was a moment of pain and then no more.”  His voice grew sad.

“Let’s not let that be us,” Sera insisted.  “Let’s move faster.”

Elisabeta was happy when she finally stepped onto more solid ground for the ledge.  A Qunari loomed up in front of her.  “Out of my way!”  She struck them down with Excalibur without even thinking about it.

“Let’s get to those detonators and blow this place up already!”  Sera insisted.

“I’m working on it!”  Elisabeta swore.

“Come closer,” a voice whispered in the dark.

Was some Qunari assassin really trying to taunt her?  Did they not realize who they were dealing with?  “Oh, I’m coming closer.”  Elisabeta assured her.  “Sera, Varric, Cole, let’s teach these fools what Southern Rogues can do.”  She blended into the shadows.

“She thought she wanted the man who laughed, but it was the thorn that showed her what it was to be loved,” Cole informed the Qunari assassin who had been taunting them from the dark, right before he shoved his daggers into her heart.  “He tore her heart, but the vines stitched them back together.  You don’t have anyone like that, I’m sorry,” he told his victim as she died.

“Your leaders taught you to adopt the shadows, but I was born from them,” Elisabeta informed the other hidden assassin, as she emerged from the shadows and right before she cut off their head.

“What are you talking about, Tempest?”  Varric asked as he filled their last opponent with bolts.  “You’re the daughter of a teyrn.”

“Fuck the details,” she shrugged.  “My mother was a very talented rogue.”

“I know,” Varric assured her as he holstered Bianca.  “Isabela has mommy envy.  Eleanor Cousland was an ex-pirate, wasn’t she?”

“She attacked Orlesian ships, from The Mistral during the war with Orlais,” Elisabeta confirmed.  “She was very fond of attacking merchant ships.  It made the Orlesians suffer and allowed her to help the Fereldan People at the same time.”

They rounded another corner and found several more Qunari, with plenty of gatlock around them.

“We’re blowing this up, right?”  Sera crowed, even as she sent an arrow into one of the barrels and watched it blow, taking out the three Qunari closest to it and injuring several more.

The injured were quickly felled by her companions.

As Sera and Iron Bull high fived each other, Cassandra found a set of rolled up notes.  “These are filled with sketches of elven statues,” she reported.  “They match the ones in the Crossroads.  There are also notes that appear to be practicing Qunlat.  What do you think Bull?”  She handed the notes to him.

“The sketches aren’t bad,” he decided.  “The notes are in Common.  What do you think, Boss?”  He handed the notes to Elisabeta.

She read them.  They say the Agent of Fen’Harel caused trouble in the Crossroads.  I wish I knew.  I wish whoever fights in the name of The Old Wolf was around with the darkspawn took my clan.  Then there was a break.  She wondered if the elf who had written the words was reconsidering joining the Qun.  Perhaps they wished to find another Dalish Clan, to rejoin their people.  To return to their gods and their rituals; to return to the culture that had birthed and reared them.  The note then continued.  Mine is not to question.  I have chosen the Qun.  The Qun will protect me.  And whoever had written the note had lifted their foot to take a step forward, a step back to a place their heart obviously desired to be.  Then fear had forced the foot back down.  No, they won’t protect you, she silently told the writer.  She had faced more than her share of darkspawn.  She knew that the Qun didn’t have the defenses they needed to fight a Blight.  They had sent Sten and his Barassaad to answer an Arishok’s question: What is the Blight.  He had been in a cage, left for the darkspawn, when she found him.  If it hadn’t been for Leliana and Morrigan’s urgings, she would have left him in that cage.  There had been nothing more disconcerting than Leliana and Morrigan agreeing about anything.  The Qun hadn’t known what to do Corypheus or the Blight.  “It has more about this Agent of Fen’Harel,” she told the others.  “The writer was a Dalish Elf that joined the Qun.”

“He turned his back on his people,” Cole’s voice was sad.

“An elfy-elf went Qun,” Sera shook her head.  She looked angry.  “No gods are worse than demon gods.  Let’s go blow these people up!”

Finally, they came to a stone bridge.  Elisabeta and her team easily killed those guarding it.  There was a room on the other end.  She could see the light coming out of the arched doorway.

“If that Templar was telling the truth, those primers should be in here,” she told the others.

A Qunari stepped under the archway.

“He thought it would be easy, barely an inconvenience,” Cole announced.  “He was wrong.”  He unsheathed his daggers and prepared to clean the Qun out of the room.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta led the charge across the Stonebridge and into the room where the Qunari kept their primers.  She knew they would be well guarded, but she’d faced worse.

She blended into the shadows as she reached the entrance, slipping past the initial guard and coming up behind him.  She easily removed his head from his shoulders.

As Elisabeta moved to the side, Sera and Varric opened up with a volley of arrows and bolts.  They both then hit the ground, rolling, as the mages opened fire into the room.  It was literal fire in Dorian’s case.  Solona unleashed lightning that mixed with the flames, causing a deadly caustic combination. 

Most of the Qunari were dead, but Elisabeta could sense something moving in the darkness.

“It’s a Saarebas, Boss,” The Iron Bull warned.

“So, we just have to break its chains and convince it that it’s been away from its masters for too long,” Anders gave a sly grin.  “It’ll kill itself for us.”

“It did work that one time,” Varric agreed.  “You don’t happen to have a crazed Chantry sister who will kill whoever holds his leash and then kidnap him on you, do you?”

“I don’t think Patrice killed whoever held Katojan’s leash,” Anders sounded fairly sure.  “She likely just stumbled on him.”

“I don’t think this is helping,” Elisabeta moved cautiously into the room.

“If it attacks you, you’ll just kill it,” Dorian’s voice was jovial.  “You’re good at that.  You killed an archdemon, after all.  That’s not to mention the would-be god.”

“The arch-darkspawn who wanted to be a god was a lot easier to kill than that damned archdemon,” Elisabeta assured him.  “I walked away from that one alive.”  That couldn’t be said about the archdemon and she suspected that fact would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life, as would ending up in the Void, when the archdemon’s soul sucked them both in.  She had no intention to shorten that life, and would be ashamed to lose it to some Qunari mage.  She heard that they Qun sewed their lips shut, and Anders once confirmed that for her.  Still, she could see it bragging to its fellow saarebas somehow about how it had been the one to take her down.

She saw a shadow falling to the ground, magic burst from it.  Elisabeta managed to block the blast by crossing her swords.  Cassandra’s shield was up and she held it in front of herself, bracing.  Anders had raised a barrier around himself and Solona. 

Unfortunately, she saw both Cole and the Iron Bull fly past her. 

“Cole’s down!”  Bull reported as he struggled back to his feet.

She hoped he’d be all right, but the saarebas was taking her attention.  She blended in the shadows, which was when she realized that Sera had as well.  Her friend was bleeding from the temple.  She scanned the shadows more.  Varric had a cut to the forehead, but appeared determined.

As she moved, Bull rushed the saarebas.  It turned to blast him and that’s when Cassandra rushed it.  Elisabeta knew the Seeker had likely begun draining the Qun mage’s magic as well.  They might be powerful, but it had likely never faced a Seeker.  Cassandra’s shield hit it and her sword flashed as it cut into flesh.

The saarebas roared and launched itself back into the air.  It landed for a split second, but it was on one of Dorian’s fire mines and immediately jumped back up.

Elisabeta stayed in the shadows as she tracked the creature, trying to anticipate where it might land. 

As it returned to the ground, Sera popped up.  “Hah, got you!”  She put three arrows in him.  “You should run for freedom now that we killed your masters!”  She disappeared into the shadows.

“They’re too brainwashed to realize rebellion’s an option!”  Solona told her as she captured the saarebas in an electric cage.  It tried to jump again and was zapped back to the ground. 

Varric used the opportunity to put a couple of bolts into him.  Bianca seemed happy about it.

It finally broke free, but that was when Elisabeta moved in, her swords flashing across her neck.  The runed dragonbone sword that Alistair had given her for Satinalia might not have done the job, but Excalibur did.  The head went flying and landed in a far corner.

“Does anyone else want his staff?”  Dorian moved towards it.

“Hold on there, Magister Grabby,” Solona moved in front of him.  “We could try deciding who should get the staff, or you could just admit that it doesn’t go with your outfit.”

“Let’s go look and see,” Dorian insisted.

Elisabeta sighed and watched her friends practically chase each other to the body.  She sighed when she saw Sera beat them both to it.  “Sera, tell me if there is anything good on it.”  She hoped she wouldn’t have to break up another fight over a few gold coins, or a moth eaten scarf. Being the inquisitor was worse than being a nanny sometimes.

Chapter Text

“Can we, please, get back to the matter at hand!”  Teagan appeared bedraggled.  His hair stood on end and his eyes were bloodshot.

“All of this stress can’t be good for the little one,” Ambassador de Montfort patted his back.  “Perhaps we should call another recess, so you can rest.”

“You have to think about your health and that of your baby,” Divine Victoria agreed.

“I am not pregnant!”  Teagan bellowed at the gathered Exalted Council.

A healer rushed to him.  “But you are,” he insisted in a thick Orlesian accent.  He gently pulled on Teagan’s arm.  “Let me see you to your rooms, so you can rest.  I hear your wife has arrived and is understandably upset upon hearing the news of your condition.  We’ll just keep her elsewhere and let you take a nice, long nap.”

Teagan blinked at him.  A nap did sound nice, but he was sure he was not with child.  It was physically impossible.  “I…”

The doors to the chamber where the Exalted Council was being held burst open and a darkhaired woman, one who was obviously with child, burst in.  “Teagan Guerrin!”

A large man, one who bore a striking resemblance to the man, stood behind her.  His hand was on the hilt of his sword.  “My sister’s honor is at stake.  I am here to demand that justice be done.”

Kaitlyn, who had been sitting in the back of the chamber, jumped to her feet.  “I knew it!”

“Someone’s in trouble,” Hawke sing-singed from the front of the audience.

“I think I’ll take the nap,” Teagan let the healer lead him from the room.

Isabela lay across Hawke’s lap, laughing hysterically.  Divine Victoria had rushed to the newcomers, speaking quickly, trying to assure them.  Ambassador de Montfort just continued to sit.  He seemed to be enjoying the show before him.

Alistair beat the Divine to the Newcomers.  “I’m Teagan’s nephew, sort-of, King Alistair Theirin.

“You are the king, but you are not Teagan’s nephew,” the large man corrected him.  “Teagan liked to brag about being The King of Ferelden’s uncle, but I did a bit of digging and you two are not blood kin.  Nor is he closely related to your queen.”

“He has the cutest temper tantrums about the queen,” the dark-haired woman smiled, as if fond of the tantrums.

“Harper,” the large man growled at the woman.

“What, Ghislain?”  She challenged.  “The king might as well know how I was foolish enough to find myself in this situation.”

“Are you saying that Teagan Guerrin is the father of the child you carry?”  Kaitlyn interrupted; her face was drained of all color.

“Yes, Arl Teagan seduced me!”  Harper let out a wail and then turned to him.  “I demand you marry me and give our child your name and protection.”

“That would be hard, as he’s already married to me,” Kaitlyn informed the woman.

Harper’s eyes widened as she gazed at Teagan.  “You lied to me?  Why did you ask me to come here, if it wasn’t so we’d be together?  Ghislain claims you left me!  He wants to…”

“I’m challenging you to a duel,” Ghislain’s voice was flat and hard.  He turned to Kaitlyn, I’m sorry to make you a widow, my lady, but my sisters honor is at stake here.”

“Teagan isn’t an arl anymore,” Kaitlyn informed Harper.  “Good, ser, I understand your need.  I have a younger brother and would hope that he would be as devoted as you in such a situation.”

“I didn’t summon you here.”  Teagan reached for Harper.

“Don’t touch her!”  Ghislain stepped between them, and then for good measure moved Kaitlyn behind him as well.

“It looks like you’ve been caught with your pants down, Tea!”  Hawke called to him.

“And you’ve measured short!”  Isabela added.

“You did!”  Harper produced a small scroll.  “I received your bird!”

“I…”  Teagan was at a loss for words, for once.

“Now, now,” Divine Victoria smiled sweetly at them.  “There is no need for anyone to die just yet.  Let’s just sort this out.”

“There is every reason…” Ghislain began.  Then he stopped, considering who he was talking to.  “Yes, Your Grace.

“Oh, heads will roll,” Kaitlyn muttered.  “They might just not be the ones on top of a neck.

Divine Victoria turned to Alistair.  “Come your majesty.”  She turned to lead them away.

Isabela sat up.  “Are they trying to go off without us?” 

“They are,” Hawke confirmed.

“Well, we won’t Let them,” she insisted.  “Come on.”

“It’s probably all going to be boring now that the Divine has interfered,” Hawke muttered, but he followed.

Alistair turned his head and grinned. “If you think that, you don’t know the Divine very well.”

Chapter Text

Elisabeta reemerged into the Qunari mining facility, carrying the primers.  “Let’s move quickly.”

There seemed to be no end of Qunari that came up against them as they made their way to the mining platforms.  They were cut down by Elisabeta’s team, who pressed on.  When things got too dark, she used the anchor to light the way.  She didn’t know how she felt about the new power and was sure it should worry her.

At each platform, they placed the detonators.  Then hey lured the Qunari in and gleefully watch as they blew up along with the platform.

“Mage rights!”  Anders shouted as wood and stone flew into the air.  He glanced at the others.  “Sorry, it’s a habit.  Besides, I like watching things go boom.”

“I remember,” Varric muttered.

They continued on.  Another contingent of Qunari came at them.  Elisabeta felt a breeze near her.  Then she realized that Cassandra had rushed past her, sword out.  She slashed at one of their attackers, even as she hit another with her shield.  “Goodbye!”  She told them.

“That’s hot,” Varric commented and then glanced at the others when he realized they’d all stopped to look at him.  “I mean, let’s help her.”  He took Bianca out of her holster and began shooting bolts into the Qun.

“It was hot,” The Iron Bull agreed as he surged into the fight.

Elisabeta detonated another platform after they’d taken out the latest contingent of Qunari.  Her companions were talking about finding dragons to fight as soon as the Exalted Council was over.  Fighting a dragon did seem like a great way to unwind from the Qunari and Council.  Who wouldn’t rather fight a dragon?  Although, blowing things up was helping.

She slowly moved up stairs as she moved to the last platform and kept her eye out for the bridge that led to the stairs that led to the path out of there.  She sent a prayer up to the Maker that she made it out of there.

Varric and Sera kept watch as Elisabeta set the last charger.  “Let’s move!”  She shouted.

“Here they come!”  Varric shot a bolt from Bianca.

Elisabeta turned, holding Excalibur and aiming it as if it were a trebuchet.  Ice shot from the sword, striking one of the oncoming Qunari. 

“Die!”  Cassandra waited until Sera had unleashed her arrow and then followed it into the oncoming Qunari.

“Hey, save some for me!”  The Iron Bull followed.

“He is so… rugged,” Dorian gazed after Bull for a moment and then threw a fireball at an opponent who had slipped pass the warriors.

“Concentrate,” Elisabeta advised, right before she slipped into the shadows.  “You can get horny for his horns later,” she added from the dark.  She then used both of her swords to decapitate an assassin who thought they were sneaking up on her Magister.

The entire mine began to shutter.

“Well, shit,” Varric looked around.  “This is only one of the many reasons I hate the Deep roads!”

“You and me both!”  Elisabeta emerged from the shadows and began running.  She saw stairs going up.  She sent out another prayer that they were the right ones. 

As soon as they had run up the steps, they found another set of stairs leading up.  Water was running down them.  That was not a good sign.

“Those seem to be going in the right direction,” Varric confirmed, his short legs led him further up. 

Elisabeta followed him.  Up was good.

They then found a ladder.  It led to a platform and everything leveled.  Well, shit.

“I hate the fucking Deep Roads!”  Sera shouted.

“Head towards the sound of the water, it should lead us out,” The Iron Bull advised.

“It is free, no longer confined by stone, it will flow as nature destroys the machine,” Cole declared.

“That’s nice, Kid,” Varric told him.  “We need to get out of here before it becomes totally free.”

As they ran towards the sound of falling water, Elisabeta noticed a statue.  It was the Dread Wolf.  What was that doing in the Deep Roads?  “Varric?”

“I have no idea why it’s there, Tempest,” he assured her, as he continued to run.

Ten minutes after they had passed the statue, they came to another set of stairs.  These led down.

“Shit,” Elisabeta cursed.

“We’re getting closer to the water, keep running,” Bull advised.

“It’s better than staying here,” Sera agreed.  Her voice held a quiver, but she continued on.

They found themselves on another bridge.  Flames could be seen up ahead.

“That seems to be our way out,” Varric decided.

Elisabeta felt the Anchor twitching.  She used it to light the way ahead.  At the end of the bridge was an open door. 

They went through.

Sure enough, the room they found themselves in had Qunari.  One was already aiming a bow at Elisabeta.

“Are you too stupid to run?”  She demanded to know.

“Inquisitor,” a voice taunted from the shadows.  “You shall learn to be afraid of the dark.”

Elisabeta laughed.  “I learned to embrace the dark at my mother’s knee.”  Then she blended into the shadows.

Dorian used a fireball to detonate a barrel of gatlock near the bulk of the Qunari warriors, killing three of them instantly.  Her warriors took on the other five. 

Elisabeta saw the telltale movement in the shadows.  The Qun would never have assassins who were as talented in blending into the shadows as Ferelden’s rogues.  She moved behind the assassin and beheaded her with a sweep of her blades, even as the assassin moved to pounce on Dorian.  She turned and noticed her warriors had taken care of the other opponents.  That’s when she realized she was in the room where the Templar had remained.

“I found this,” Cole handed her a paper.  “Regret.  He should have seen that abandoning his world was not the way.  He should have stayed, like the lieutenant did.  He should have stood up to Meredith as the hawk did.”

Elisabeta sighed.  “Yes, he should have.”  She realized the paper she was holding were orders.

Elf-Isskari,

Our Templar brother is in need of reeducation.  He must be located and returned at once.

Viddasala

“They’re turning elves on humans,” Sera spat out and then followed her statement with a string of expletives.  “They have us fighting each other!  Shite fucking snipers who suck fucking leaches.”

“What she said,” Dorian agreed.  “I don’t like the idea of them sending humans or elves to their reeducators, either.  I don’t even like the idea of them sending their own there.”  He glanced at his lover.  “Bull has told me enough about what happens there.  “Our Templar friend had an epiphany.  He didn’t need…”  He shuttered.  “That.”

“Let’s hope he makes it out of here and away from them.”  Elisabeta prayed to the Maker he did, as she prayed that they made it out.  She looked around for a way out.  “Shit.”

“Hold on, Tempest.”  Dorian used Varric’s nickname for her.  Then he turned to The Iron Bull.  “My love.”

“I’ve got you, Kadan.”  Bull moved another barrel of gatlock against a pile of rubble.  Then moved away.

Dorian threw another fireball and grinned as the rubble blew away.  Then he bowed and held out an arm.  “My lady.”

Elisabeta kissed him on the cheek.  “Thank you, My Lord.” 

They went through the opening revealed as the rubble had blown away.

Elisabeta found herself climbing up a narrow passageway full of rubble.  She had doubts that the Qun had even known the passage existed, at first.  Then she began to realize that they were excavated caves.

The passageway gave way to the grand stairway she had used earlier.  Thank the Maker, she was heading in the right direction.

Water was flowing down the nearby walls.  As she ran up the stairs, she passed the former Templar.  She knelt beside him for a moment.  “He didn’t make it far.”

“I know I’m not Leliana, but…”  Cassandra knelt down on the other side of the man.  “Maker, please take him into your grace and forgive him his stumble of faith.  He was coming back to You, leaving the unfaithful.  He experienced what broke many and deserves thy understanding and grace.”

“Amen,” Sera whispered behind her.

“We don’t have time to take his body back,” Elisabeta was regretful.  “But I’ll talk to Cullen and find out if he had any family.”  She stood.  “For now…”

“We’ve got to get out of here, Boss,” The Iron Bull finished for her.

Elisabeta continued running.  She soon found herself in another camber and facing a doorway full of rubble.  Looking around she saw another doorway.  She hoped it led in the right direction, as she went through it.

The doorway led to more stairs.  They went up.  “The Maker is still with us,” Elisabeta let out a breath, before heading up.

Water cascaded down the stairs, causing them to have to slow and move more carefully.  She was surprised when Varric grabbed Cassandra’s hand as she slid an inch.  The pair moved a step closer to each other as they fought the water to continue to ascend.

The water came down more heavily, the further up they went.  Then they came to the end of the stairs and went through a virtual waterfall.  Elisabeta recognized the room they were now in.  The Eluvian was nearby.  She would have to send Andraste a nice long thank you, through prayer, that night.

She had another matter to deal with first.  She looked around at her friends.  “Who wants to tell Josephine and Cullen that we’re likely at war with the Qunari?  Anyone?”

Her friends remained quiet.  Great.

Then one spoke up.  “As if,” Sera let out a little laugh.

“They’re going to kill me,” she groaned.  She would also have to tell Alistair and the Bannorn.  Sometimes, her life sucked.  Still, it was better than floating into the Abyss.

She held onto that last thought as she stepped through the mirror.

Chapter Text

“Now let’s talk about who wants to kill who.”  Alistair sat in front of Ghislain.

“I want to kill Teagan,” Kaitlyn spoke up from behind the king.

“You can’t kill him!”  Harper wailed.

“Someone should have told you that you can’t sleep with my husband!”  Kaitlyn mockingly copied the wail.”

“I didn’t know he was married,” Harper insisted.  “He… no, I can’t believe he’d lie to me about that or about how he feels about me.”

“I told you not to trust him,” Ghislain reminded his sister.  “That included not having… intimate relations… with him.”

“I love him and he loves me!”  Harper wailed.

“He’s married!”  Ghislain threw his hands up.

“Yes, remember me?”  Kaitlyn gave her a little wave.

“Are you sure?”  Harper gave her a speculative look.

“Yes, they are married,” Alistair sighed.  He considered waiting until Elisabeta returned and letting her try to solve the headache.  “The problem is that your brother wants to kill him and the rest of us don’t want that, so a duel is a bad idea.”  He was sure his wife would have gone on, in detail, about how bad of a warrior Teagan was.

“That’s not exactly true,” Kaitlyn dissented.  “No one wants to harm his unborn child, but my life might be easier as his widow, rather than his wife.”

“Don’t you love him?”  Alistair protested.

“Love is hard to maintain when your husband becomes a stranger, one who finds comfort in the beds of others for that matter,” Kaitlyn pointed out.

Alistair scratched his beard, to keep from pulling on the rest of his hair.   “Ghislain and Harper seem to be the injured parties here.  Besides a duel, what else might satisfy you?  Perhaps there is a monetary amount we can put on this, something to take care of the child and pay recompence for the damagers done to your sister’s reputation and heart?”

“And how do you propose Teagan pay this preparation?” Kaitlyn challenged.  “He no longer has land in Ferelden.  He isn’t an arl, or even a bann, any longer.  His land was given to others.  And he isn’t using my money.”

Alistair seemed to recall that the basis of Kaitlyn’s fortune had come from Elisabeta, but his wife would likely side with the former Redcliffe Refugee.  “Is there any other way that this could be made right?”

“You’re just trying to save your friend,” Ghislain accused.  “My sister’s honor cannot wait.”

“Your Majesty!”  Hawke came in, bouncing Andromeda on his hip.

“How…”  Alistair wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Hawke had ended up babysitting his daughter.  He thought Adrianna had her.  That taught him to keep a closer eye on his only child.

“Oh, I took our little princess while Addie took care of Inquisition business,” Hawke answered.  “Fenris caught some Orlesian elf whispering to Nyx and… well… things got tense.  As Nyx is a former Inquisition member, the elf started screaming about being repressed by the organization.  Then the people they worked for stopped by and tried to grab her and Fenris… it wasn’t pretty.  Now we have a dead Orlesian and Fenris claiming that the Orlesians treat their elves like slaves.  The elf is also being retained while Addie tries to get everything situated.  Oh, and Nyx is insisting on talking to Lissa.”

Alistair wanted Lissa right now, too.  Still, it was a good chance to pause from Teagan’s mess.”

Alistair found that Leliana had come to Adrianna’s aid before he’d gotten there.

“This is no time to argue about who killed who,” she was telling the Orlesian guards.

“He ripped the heart out of this man!”  A guard pointed an accusing finger at Fenris.

“I did not!”  Fenris was affronted.  After all, he’d only reached in and crushed the Orlesian noble’s heart.  “He was a slaver.  He didn’t believe that his servant had the right to come and go as they chose.”

Fiona had once told Alistair just bits of her experience as a servant in Orlais.  Her magic had manifested, saving her from the regular abuse she received at the hands of her employer.  He doubted many slaves in Tevinter had it as bad, much less worse, than his true mother had.  The Orlesian had died, which was a mercy compared to what he deserved, and the Templars had taken Fiona.  At the time, she’d almost been grateful to them.  “I believe we should let the Viscount of Kirkwall deal with this,” Alistair suggested.  “He’s here for the Exalted Council.”

“Is he?”  The guard challenged.  “Where is he now then?”

“He’s assisting Andraste’s Herald,” Leliana lifted her eyes to the heavens, as if seeing the goddess giving her approval to her.  “He shall return, when she does, from an important mission that could not be avoided.  He will be back when the Exalted Council Continues.  Meanwhile, I’m sure the Champion of Kirkwall will keep an eye on him.”

“Garrett Hawke?”  The guard obviously didn’t think it was a good idea, but wasn’t willing to badmouth the man who was practically a legend.  “Aren’t they friends.”

“Who’s friends?”  The man in question appeared. 

“You and the prisoner,” the guard explained.

Garrett grinned at his friend.  “Are you a prisoner, Fenris?”

“No,” Fenris’ voice was flat.

“What happened?”  Hawke looked down at the guard’s body.  “Is he really a slaver?”

“Yes,” Fenris declared.  “He grabbed Elanna and shook her.  He said something about her having to find his missing servants.  They’re servants, he couldn’t compel them to stay.  If he could, then they would be slaves.”

“He has a point,” Alistair told the guard.  “I suggest you leave this to us, unless you want to explain why your nobles are trying to abduct elves and force them to work for them.”

“I…”  The guard threw up his hands.  “I don’t get paid enough for this.  Go ahead, have the Champion of Kirkwall take him into custody for the Viscount.  Just no more killing!”  he stormed away.

“Well, that’s that,” Leliana smiled, the smile was what her enemies saw right before she hugged them and plunged a dagger into their backs.  She glared at Fenris.  “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

“The Orlesian was crazed.”  It was Elanna who told her.  “He was shouting about how his servants had all disappeared and that we, every single elf in Thedas, were plotting against him.”

“Then he was killed by an elf,” Alistair observed.  “I wonder if he saw that coming.”

“I’m sure it came as a surprise to his heart,” Hawke replied.

Leliana just rubbed a spot between her eyes.  “What a mess.  Why did his servants disappear?”

“All of the elves are disappearing,” Elanna informed her.  “Hadn’t you noticed there were fewer elves in Halamshiral than the last time we were here?”

“I…”  Leliana let out a long sigh.  “My duties are keeping me busy and I’m slipping.”

“A man, another elf, tried to recruit me to the Qun last night,” Fenris revealed.  “There I was, minding my own business…”

“You mean brooding,” Hawke interrupted.

“I don’t…”  Fenris started, but then just gave a single nod.  “There may have been a brood involved.”

            “There’s always a brood involved,” Isabela stepped forward and ran a hand along Fenris chest.  “It’s one of the things that make you so sexy.”

            “Isabela!”  Both Elanna and Hawke shouted her name at once.

“We’ve talked about this, Isabela,” Elanna gently moved her away from Fenris.  “You don’t get to touch anymore.  You only touch Hawke now.”  She turned to the others.  “Plus, a local, a local elf that is, gave me this.”  She produced a pamphlet.

The pamphlet had a wolf in Dalish clothes drawn on it.  The words Our Lord and Savior were written under the picture.  Below it, someone had sketched Dalish and City Elves kneeling in prayer.

“What is this?”  Alistair took the pamphlet.  He had to move it away from Leliana before she snatched it up.  He opened it up to find claims that Fen’Harel had returned and was going to free his people from the Shem.  “I thought elves feared Fen’Harel.”  He handed it to Leliana.

“He has a cult now,” Elanna assured him.  “They tried to convert me.  I thought he was mere fantasy, but Lissa has assured me that Mythal was real.  It stands to reason that Fen’Harel existed, too.”

“I’m going to go find Morrigan,” Alistair decided.  Those were words he never thought he would utter.

Chapter Text

Cullen was sitting on a blanket, playing with his son and their dog.  Andromeda sat near him, chewing on a rattle.  She pulled the rattle out of her mouth and shook it at the crowd of Orlesians who had gathered around them, it was a threat of some sort. 

Adrianna stood beside the infant princess, glaring at the gathered crowd.  Every time one of them came closer, she would flip her long daggers.

Elisabeta gave a little smile as she came upon the scene, until she saw how close the Orlesians were to her baby.  She quickly moved in and scooped up her daughter.

“For Andraste’s sake,” Cassandra cursed at those gathered.  “He’s a married man!  Leave him alone.”

“No!”  One man wailed.  “The Maker would not be so cruel as to allow him to marry someone else!”

Adrianna and Cassandra rolled their eyes at once.

“You are threatening my Commander!”  Elisabeta pronounced.  “I must presume that you are all here for hostile reasons and that I must protect him against you.  You say the Maker would not give him to someone else?  Well, my Commander chose where his heart went and the Maker would never be so cruel as to force him to be with you.  Thus, I must presume you want to enslave him.  I believe Fenris, the Blue Specter of Kirkwall, also known as The Slaver’s Bane, is here in Halamshiral.  I’ll just let him know that you think a person is your property, just because you want them to be.  I’m sure he’s hanging around Hawke.  Wait here and I’ll bring him to you.”

The crowd quickly dispersed.

“Thanks,” Cullen smiled up at her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she grimaced.  “I need to talk to my old advisers and I don’t think you guys will be happy.”

“Did you start a war with Orlais?”  He questioned.  “Did you get the Inquisition involved?”

“No,” she assured him.  “It isn’t Orlais I started a war with.”  She paused for a moment.  “The Inquisition is definitely involved, though.”

Elisabeta soon stood in front of a modified war table.  Behind the table, were Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana.  This seemed familiar.

They were not alone, however.  Behind Elisabeta, leaning against the wall, were King Alistair of Ferelden, Adrianna Trevelyan-Rutherford: Head of the Inquisition, Garrett Hawke: The Champion of Kirkwall, Isabela: The Booty of Kirkwall, Fenris the Blue Specter, Elanna Lavellan, and Morrigan: The Witch of the Wilds.  For now, they were quietly listening to Elisabeta as she relayed what had occurred in the Deep Roads.

“She hates the Deep Roads,” Alistair quietly confided to Hawke.

“Who doesn’t?”  Hawke wondered.  “Varric’s brother trapped me down there.”  He paused a moment.  “I did get rich off of the experience, though.”

Elisabeta glanced back at them as she finished her long story.

“Dragon’s Breath,” Leliana scoffed.  “The Qunari always enjoy their metaphors.”

“But what does it mean?”  Josephine wondered.

“Who knows,” Cullen’s left hand rested on the hilt of his sword.  His right hand covered his left wrist, he was both relaxed and ready for battle.  “Qunari agents moving through Eluvians to attack the South is bad enough already.”

Leliana gave a little shake of her head.  “I still do not understand why they accused the Inquisition of serving Fen’Harel.

“We know that Mythal actually exists, it’s possible that Fen’Harel is still here in some form, too.”

“What you describe in the ruins certainly implies that the Dread Wolf of Elven Legend is certainly a real person,” Leliana agreed.

“But how does that implicate us?” Josephine demanded to know.  “What made them decide that the Inquisition serves this Fen’Harel?”

“Hopefully, we’ll learn more after we have stopped them.”  Leliana had her priorities in order.

“Let’s see the Exalted Council try to disband the Inquisition after we’ve saved them from this Dragon’s Breath,” Cullen’s voice was certain and just a bit snide.

“You underestimate the Chantry,” Morrigan informed him.  “They would drown their followers in blood before they admit that the Elven Gods were based on real people.  They will not let a mere inconvenience like the Qunari sway them, unless the Inquisition continuously reminds them that the Qunari do not believe in their Maker.  I believe you called Sten a heathen more than once, Leliana.”

“Not to his face,” Leliana squirmed.  “Well, except those few times.”  She turned to Cullen.  We need to find out what Dragon’s Breath is first.”  She looked back at Elisabeta.  “For now, our only lead is the Qunari leader, the Viddasala.”

The sound of a nearby door being swung violently open disrupted the discussion and there was loud clomping.  Everyone in the room turned as Teagan and the Orlesian Ambassador stormed in.

“Gentlemen!”  Josephine greeted them with a breathy, yet slightly quivering voice.

“My apologies, Lady Josephine,” Ambassador Montford calmly greeted her.  “There has been an incident with one of your soldiers.”

“How dare you!”  Teagan growled and sneered at her.  Then he looked at Elisabeta as well.  “It was bad enough that the Inquisition chose not to inform the Council of the Qunari corpse.”

“Orlais would have been happy to help with the body,” Montford tried to cut him off.

“But now your own guards are attacking servants!”  Teagan refused to be quieted.  He pointed an accusing finger at Elisabeta.  “You have overstepped your bounds.”

Elisabeta rolled her eyes at Teagan.  “I don’t see how a Qunari Corpse, no matter where it is located, is the concern of an Exalted Council or any Chantry Organization.  The Chantry should be concerned with the souls of Thedas, not the maneuvering of its nations against each other.”

“’Tis an annoying and interfering organization,” Morrigan agreed.  “They are jealous of the power of others and think to control each nation.  Yet here a Fereldan Ambassador thinks to chastise Andraste’s Herald.”  She looked over at Alistair.  “You appointed him, didn’t you?”

“I…”  Alistair began.

“I sure didn’t,” Elisabeta muttered.  She gave both ambassadors a cold look.  “Did we also overstep our boundaries when we saved Thedas from a would-be god and his servants?  Should we have checked to see what our boundaries were while we protected the people of Thedas from the Red Templars and Venatori?  I suppose I should have when I saved Redcliffe from the Venatori called Alexus.  I should have checked with the Arl.  Oh wait…”  The look she shot at Teagan held ice and contempt.  “The Arl had fled.  He’d left his people and ran to Denerim.  He hid behind the King’s very shapely rear end, quivering and begging him to deal with his problems for him.  That reminds me of my previous visit to Redcliffe, when the people were being preyed on by the walking dead.  The present arl, Eamon, was lying in bed; because his wife had hired an apostate who poisoned him.  Bann Teagan was hiding in the chantry, while the dead his demon-possessed nephew had raised preyed on villagers.  The villagers were valiantly protecting those they could, while the Guerrins did nothing.”

“Really?” Isabela shook her head and tskd.  “I’d read that Queen Rowan was brave and valiant.  It’s a shame that her brothers weren’t.”

“They were sent out of Fereldan while their sister fought,” Elisabeta revealed.  “All Fereldan nobles know that they were sent to a comfy life, away from the fighting, while the rest of Fereldan fought for her freedom.  Alistair’s father and grandmother fought.  My father fought.  My mother took to the sea and preyed upon Orlesian merchants, while protecting the Storm Coast.  Teagan grew up in the Free Marches.”

Hawke made a face.  “Tell me that it wasn’t Kirkwall, at least.”

“It wasn’t,” Alistair spoke up.  “Teagan, calm down.  Perhaps you should let Ambassador De Montford talk.  He seems, calmer.”

“Yes, your agitation can’t be good for the baby,” Hawke agreed.  “You have to think of it now.  Should I go get a healer to look at you?”

“If the Inquisition wanted to seize power in Ferelden, it would start with a scuffle in Orlais,” Elisabeta added.  “Perhaps you have forgotten, but Fereldans don’t exactly like Orlais.  There’s a lot of bad blood.  We were working on fixing it, but then the Chantry stepped in.”  She sent Leliana another look.  “It’s almost as if they benefit more by Ferelden and Orlais being at each other’s throats than if the nations were friends.”

This time, Leliana fidgeted.  

“While the Exalted Council is our formal priority, the Inquisitor will, of course, address this matter personally.”  Josephine gave Elisabeta a pointed look.

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” de Montford bowed to her.  “Orlais stands ready to assist the Inquisition as always.”

“Do you see this?”  Elisabeta pointed at the Orlesian Ambassador.  “If Ferelden stand against the Inquisition, then Orlais will support it.  Of course, they just want to control us, as does the Chantry.  Oh, don’t look shocked and hurt, Leliana.  Mother Gisselle has already been whispering about serving the Divine and how the Chantry started as the previous Inquisition.  The Chantry lost the Templars and Mages and now no longer has an army to enforce its will.  It can’t exaltedly march, Hell, it probably can’t enforce anything in this Exalted Council without the support of Ferelden and Orlais.  And these two,” she gestured to the two ambassadors, “can’t enforce anything on their own.  And while you’re looking shocked and hurt, Leliana, tell me why the Chantry has to give everything the title of exalted; does it make it any less evil?  Does it undo what the Chantry did to the elves?  Does it make your betrayal sting any less?”

“Now, gentlemen, the Inquisitor has just had a rough day and is lashing out,” Josephine tried to smooth out the waves Elisabeta just made.  “We are not trying to hide anything.  Indeed, I don’t think the Inquisitor has a duplicitous bone in her body.”

“Secrets and lies!”  Teagan hissed.

“Teagan, we aren’t talking about your wedding vows right now,” Elisabeta snarked.

“Do you wander why we fear your Inquisition,” he continued to rant.  “You think you’re the solution to every problem.  How long before you drag us into another war?”

“Are you afraid there will be nowhere for you to hide?”  Elisabeta challenged.  “You hid from the undead and ran from the Venatori.  You were born into a warzone, for the Maker’s sake!  Oh, wait, your father sent you away while your sister fought.  You are a coward, Teagan Guerrin.”

“What the Inquisitor means…”  Josephine began, her voice quivered and she shot alarmed looks at Elisabeta.

“He knows what I mean,” Elisabeta cut her off.  “I will not be cowed by his title of ambassador.”  She glanced at Alistair.  “I told you he’d make a horrible one and I’m right.  He seems to think that he can use the title to push me around and the Divine does nothing to stop him.  Well, I refuse.”  She turned back to Teagan.  “If Ferelden has a position on this matter, I will listen to what the King says.  You are a coward hiding behind his title and the illusion of power that he thinks the word Exalted gives him.”

“The Inquisitor seems to be upset about something that happened in Redcliffe,” Josephine began to try and sooth the feathers that Elisabeta ruffled.

“Come with me.”  Hawke put an arm around Teagan.  “Getting this upset can’t be good for your baby.  Let’s go find Anders so he can examine you.”

“I’m not…”  Teagan began.  Then he blanched.  “It is not possible…”

“In Thedas, everything is possible,” Hawke gave Teagan’s shoulders a little squeeze.

Alistair approached Elisabeta as the others went to take care of the guards.  “Tell me you’re not going to kill him, Beta.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”  She challenged.

“I’m already trying to save him from any angry brother, don’t make me have to save him from you, too,” Alistair pleaded.

“Oh?  What’s this about an older brother?”  She was interested in hearing about this.

Alistair caught her up on the gossip as she went to join the Inquisition’s latest quest.

Chapter Text

“So, Teagan put this Ghislaine’s sister into a… compromised… situation,” Elisabeta decided as she and Alistair walked to where her advisers were circled.

“Yes, she’s… in a delicate and compromised situation,” Alistair confirmed.  “Kaitlyn, Teagan’s wife is also in Halamshiral, and none too happy.”

“Of course not,” Elisabeta agreed.  “If you did something like that, you’d wake up a couple of balls lighter.”

Alistair gave a nervous laugh and took a step back, carefully bouncing Andromeda, while maneuvering her between him and her mother.  “I would not be surprised,” he confirmed.  “Just as any other man who was allowed to do such things to you would…”  He stopped, trying to think of something painful.  “I’d probably just behead him and then regret not doing something more before he died.”

Elisabeta nodded.  “As I would expect.  What about Teagan’s own child?  The one he’s carrying?”

“He isn’t really… gravid,” Alistair reminded her.

“That’s not what I hear,” Elisabeta disagreed.

Half of the gathered Orlesians moved out of Elisabeta’s way as she approached the Inquisition guards and her prisoner.  Others just stood there with their hands covering their faces.  She took note of those who got in her way.

The prisoner and the elf who had nabbed him were being carefully surrounded by the Inquisition’s guards.  They moved to let Elisabeta through.

She found an Orlesian guard throwing his hands up in the hair, although he said nothing.

“What’s going on?”  She demanded to know. 

“The Orlesians tried to take one of our people, Inquisitor,” one of the Inquisition’s guards told her.  “We’ve secured the area.”  He saluted.

An Orlesian guard stormed to her.  “This is the Winter Palace!  You cannot simply seize control when one of your guards attacks a servant!”

“This is the Winter Palace!”  Elisabeta gasped.  “No kidding… I thought I was in Kirkwall!  No wonder the confusion.  The gaudy lions and badly dressed people should have tipped me off.”

The guard bristled.  “You know where you are, my lady.”

Elisabeta took an aggressive step forward.  “Are you calling me a liar?  Are you calling a member of the Noble House of Cousland…?”

“Theirin…”  Alistair calmly corrected and then went back to merely watching the scene unfold before him.

“The Noble Houses of Cousland and Theirin…” Elisabeta corrected herself.  “A liar?  This sounds like an Orlesian threatening Ferelden nobility in the Elven city of Halamshiral, which the Orlesians stole from the elves.”

“That’s not what I said,” the guard protested.  “What I meant…”

“The Inquisition is handling this,” The Inquisition Guard interrupted the Orlesian.  “When some noble commits a crime of fashion, you can take over.”

“I only asked what he was doing,” the elven guard defended herself.

“Wait, do I know you?”  Elanna interrupted.

The prisoner spoke before the guard could answer her.  “And when I refused to answer to the Inquisition dogs, you attacked me!”  He struggled to his feet and got into the guard’s face.

The Inquisition guard rolled his eyes at the prisoner.  Then he turned back to Elisabeta.  “How would you like us to handle the matter, Inquisitor?”

Elisabeta gazed at the barrel that the guard and prisoner seemed to have been scuffling over.  It looked familiar, a little too familiar.  She’d recently blown up a few barrels that looked just like it.  “That barrel, there, where did it come from?”

“I was ordered to bring wine for the guests,” the prisoner claimed.

“You’re lying,” the guard who had stopped him stated the obvious.

“Inquisition solders are completely out of control.”  The Orlesian guard pointed at the pair.

“The fact that he’s lying is as obvious as that wart beside your nose!”  Elisabeta countered.  There wasn’t a wart beside the guard’s nose, but she knew he’d go running to find a mirror the moment he left her.  The fact that he was lying was, nevertheless, obvious. 

            The Inquisition guard glared at him.  “No, we’re in control.  Keep talking and you’ll find yourself in chains.”

            “Then you won’t be able to get a healer to take care of that unfortunate thing on your face,” Elisabeta added.  “We’ll be taking the prisoner in for questioning.  My guard was right to be suspect.  If I’m reading the situation correctly, Orlais’ security at Halamshiral will have a lot to answer for.”

            “Lord Cyril will hear about this!”  The Orlesian guard stomped off.

            “Tell him I said hi!”  Elisabeta shouted after him.  She turned back to the guard.  “Take the prisoner somewhere secure then get The Iron Bull to question him.”  She glanced to Alistair.  “Could you go with him, darling?  Tell him that I suspect the prisoner of bringing gaatlok into the Winter Palace.”

            “Gaatlok?”  Alistair clutched Andromeda closer.

            “I just blew up several barrels that looked just like that,” she indicated the barrel in question.  “They make big booms.”

            “We’ll take care of this,” Alistair kissed her cheek and followed the guard.

            Elisabeta watched him leave.  She found herself yearning for more time with her husband and daughter and a lot less time taking care of the Inquisition. 

“You need to question your guard,” Fenris approached her.  “There is something off with her as well.”

“My guard?”  Elisabeta wasn’t surprised, but she didn’t like hearing the news.

“She tried to recruit me to some cult yesterday,” Fenris explained.  “One that worships Fen’Harel.  She says he’s real and will bring back magic.  She’s lucky to have her heart in her chest after that last part.  Elanna wouldn’t let me kill her.  She said it would make this farce worse if one of your guards was found dead, with her heart ripped out.”

“She’s right,” Elisabeta agreed with Elanna.  “It would be messy.  And I don’t just mean the blood spatter.  Would you like to question her?”

“No,” Fenris growled.  “Get Hawke to do it.  Have Anders and Solona with him.”

“Agreed.”  Elisabeta nodded.  Now she had to…”

“Inquisitor I found this on the prisoner,” Charter handed her a scroll.  “It’s in a language I cannot translate.”

“I’ll get it translated.”  Why Charter couldn’t have done that herself, she did not know.  Elisabeta turned, hoping she could grab something for a very late lunch, or perhaps that was early dinner, after she found Hawke and Solona, of course.  She noticed Leliana standing in the shadows of the very fancy forge the Inquisition had appropriated. 

            Leliana signaled her.

            Andraste’s Ample Ass, Elisabeta silently cursed.  If she ever got her hands on Divine Justinia, she would make her even more dead.  Elisabeta’s once sweet friend was still as over cunning and manipulative as when Elisabeta had returned from the dead.  She thought she’d made progress bringing out the adorable bard who’d fought at her side during the Fifth Blight.  Becoming Divine had just sent Leliana back down the path Justinia had set her on.  She plastered a calm, amiable expression on her face and approached the woman.

            “Did you resolve the problem with the guard?”  Leliana wanted to know.

            “Not really,” Elisabeta told her.  “The matter is in respite at the moment.  I have Bull questioning the prisoner now.  I was about to get Hawke and Solona to question the guard.”

            “Hawke?”  Leliana looked doubtful.  “Is that a good idea?”

            It was better than letting Leliana and her daggers question them.  The Chantry didn’t know how lucky they were that their halls weren’t running with the blood of those who opposed their new Divine.  “Yes, he is the Champion of Kirkwall, after all.”

            “I know you were dead at the times, but Kirkwall caught fire more than once under his watch,” Leliana reminded her.

            Elisabeta waved off her concerns.  “Everything will be fine.  The guard and prisoner are the least of our problems.  Someone smuggled gatlock into the Winter Palace.  Hawke setting Halamshiral on fire is not the worst scenario of what could happen.”

            “At least now we know the true extent of the Dragon’s Breath,” Leliana looked on the bright side.

            “You think Dragon’s Breath is simply gaatlok?”  Elisabeta wasn’t sure that fit with what she knew of Qunari.  Somehow, she felt that if blowing up the Winter Palace was the plan, it would have a different name.

            “Of course,” Leliana was obviously sure she was right.  “A surprise attack, even one through the Eluvian would have met fierce resistance.  But if everyone at the Exalted Council died in an explosion, the South would be rudderless, vulnerable to attack.  This is what Corypheus should have done after the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

            It was nice to know Leliana had already thought of the best ways to conquer Thedas.  Elisabeta wondered if she could get her friend to step down as Divine and become a royal adviser.  “But they didn’t know that Alistair would be here.  The only ones they would have killed are the Inquisition and Chantry.  No other royal families are here, and there are only a handful of noble families.  You overvalue the Chantry.”

            “I… no, we are needed, as is the Inquisition,” Leliana insisted.  “It is an attack as swift and unpreventable as the breath of a dragon.”

            “I’ve killed plenty of dragons in my day,” Elisabeta assured her.  “Charter found this note on the servant.”  She handed it to Leliana.  “It may give us further information about what the Qun plans.  It looks like Qunari writing.”

            “I picked some up from the Iron Bull, though I’m told my accent is atrocious.” Leliana revealed.  She tried to read the letter.  “These are orders for positioning the gatlock in the palace.”  Her words became more stilted as she attempted to carefully translate.  “When… duty… has been performed report to the Viddasala through the mirror marked by a bookcase.”

            Elisabeta grinned and held out her arms.  “I’ve been hoping to meet the esteemed Viddasala.  How nice of her to invite us over.”

            “Good,” Leliana proclaimed.  “While you do that, I’ll have agents locate the gatlock barrels and remove them safely.  I will also send word to my foreign contacts.  We must see where else this dragon could strike.”  Leliana slunk off, blending into the shadows as she moved, it was an impressive feat considering how bulky the robes, and the size of the hat that she was now forced to wear were.

            Elisabeta went to find her dinner, then she would see what the Iron Bull could learn from the Orlesian servant and what Hawke had learned from the guard.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta’s friends, most of them, sat around a table as they enjoyed dinner.  Next to them was Hawke and most of his friends. 

            Elisabeta looked over at him, careful of Andromeda who was sitting on her lap.  “What did you learn?”

            “Oh, I learned that I am the despised child of a wyvern and an angry mabari,” Hawke reported.  “For some reason, she seemed to think that was an insult.”

            “Huh,” Elisabeta wondered how such a pairing would work.  “She must not realize we’re Fereldan, calling us part mabari isn’t an insult.”

            “Exactly,” Hawke agreed.  “When I went on to tell her that a mabari was better than a wolf, especially a dread wolf, she started spewing at me.  She definitely worships the creature.  She says he’s returned and will lead the elves to their former glory.”

            “Not this former glory B.S. again,” Elisabeta groaned.  “Didn’t we just go through that with Coryphaeus?”

            “We did,” Alistair spoke up.

            “They need to let the past die,” Hawke declared.

            “Those are wise words,” Cassandra agreed.  “So, we have rampaging Qunari and elves who worship the Dread Wolf.”

            “The crazy’s going around,” Sara declared.  “Speaking of crazy, here come Ambassador Teagan.”

            The man was marching towards their table.  “I know I didn’t invite him to join us,” Elisabeta eyed the man with revulsion.

            “Should you be taking such angry strides in your condition?”  Anders said in way of greeting.

            “Shouldn’t you be off blowing up Chantry buildings?” Teagan shot back.

            “Yes, I should,” Anders agreed.  “Shall I aim for the Exalted Council?  I don’t believe there are any innocent people attending.”

            “You’d kill the Inquisition representatives,” Solona reminded him.

            “No killing Adrianna or Josephine,” Elisabeta warned.  She smiled at Teagan, showing plenty of teeth.  “Don’t you have a duel to prepare for?  I don’t believe Alistair managed to stop it for you.”

            “What about your unborn baby?”  Anders sounded genuinely concerned.  “I mean the one you’re carrying, not the one you planted in that poor, unsuspecting girl.”

            “I believe Kaitlyn is here with Ghislaine, the brother,” Teagan glanced around.  “I was going to catch them.”

            “And do what?”  Sara wanted to know.  “Are you going to act like a cuckolded husband?  You can’t do that when you’ve been letting your cuckoo visit other nests.  You need to keep your cuck in check first.”

            “She’s right,” Alistair agreed.  “If I… did what you did… Beta would cut my cuck off and force feed it to whoever it had been with.  Then she’d make us suffer.”

            “I would,” Elisabeta agreed.

            “You have too much power,” Teagan growled and moved on.

            “That’s because I know how to use a sword, unlike you!”  Elisabeta shouted after him as he moved on.  She turned to Alistair.  “Your cowardly not uncle is going to get killed in any duel.”

            Alistair let out a long sigh.  “You’re likely right.”

            Elisabeta patted his leg.  “I know you’ll miss him after he’s been killed by an angry older brother.  Look on the bright side, though.  If he dies in Halamshiral, we can try to find a way to pin it on Orlais.  The Bannorn will love helping us with that.”

            “That they would,” he agreed.

            The Iron Bull walked in.   “The servant is definitely Qun.  He hasn’t said much, but I would say that Halamshiral has an infestation.  He is far from the only one and we need to be vigilant.  I suggest we leave a few people in the palace to keep an eye on things.  Perhaps Sera would be willing to pose as one of the servants and get in on their good graces, she could keep an eye out for trouble.”

            “Maybe you could pose as a servant,” Sera suggested.  “You’re just as likely to blend in.”

            “I’m not an elf,” Bull pointed out.

            “Are you calling me an elf?”  Sera demanded to know, her face turning a deep pink.

            “Amatus, you know better than accusing her of such a thing,” Dorian gently reminded him.  “He meant no offence, Sera.  He is just trying to figure out who can pass as a servant.”

            “Why don’t you pose as one, Bull,” Sera suggested.  “You look like a Qunari.  If they’re members of the Qun, maybe they’ll tell you everything they know.”

            “We’ll send Cole in,” Bull decided.  “He can disarm the most cautious spy.”

            “He’ll have them braiding each other’s hair and revealing who they work for,” Elisabeta decided.  “Let’s do it.  Fenris, could you go undercover as well?”

            “I am no one’s servant,” Fenris growled.

            “His markings make him stand out too much,” Anders protested.  “Sera, you talk to people.  Don’t pose, just be their Jenny.  They’ll talk to you.”

            “But they aren’t,” Sera protested.  “I knew something screwy was up.  Servants are never all happy and these ones were.  No one wanted anyone done for.”

            “Maybe the nobles would…”  Elisabeta began.

            “The nobles wouldn’t know if their servants were worshipping dragons and committing child sacrifices,” Varric cut her off.  “In Orlais, if it isn’t gossip or fashion, they don’t even realize it’s there.”

            “You have a point,” Elisabeta conceded.

            “The guards obviously know nothing,” Cassandra added.  “They’re incompetent.  That servant was setting up a barrel of gatlock and they would rather attack the Inquisition than figure out what was in the barrel.”

            “If Beta wasn’t punching them, it might help,” Alistair gave his wife a pointed look.

            She hadn’t punched the guard, though.  Then she recalled the one she’d punched a few days before.  “If they weren’t Orlesian, they wouldn’t be punched… or it would be less likely.”

            “That’s… a good point,” Alistair conceded.  “But we’re supposed to be trying friendship with the country.”

            “They’re Orlesians,” Elisabeta protested, pouting.

            Alistair laughed and kissed the pout.  “Most of our people will back that argument.  However, we need to find out exactly what’s going on in this city.  I’m afraid that Denerim might be a target as well.”

            “And Highever,” she realized.  If the Viddasala was threatening her home, there would be the Abyss to pay.

            “I’ll go undercover,” Merrill spoke up. 

Elisabeta blinked at her.  The elf had been so quiet, she hadn’t realized she was there.  Had she even known that Merrill was in Halamshiral?

“I’m Dalish, most of the servants will assume that I’m one of them and loyal to Fen’Harel,” Merrill continued.

“Are you?”  Cassandra demanded to know.  “You are a blood mage.”

Merrill blinked at her.  “What does that have anything to do with anything?”

Isabela patted her hand.  “It doesn’t, Kitten.  I’ll go under as well.  I shall pose as a disgruntled peasant.  Perhaps, I shall bad mouth the Chantry.  That should attract the Qun.”

Elisabeta suspected that they would be attracted to something else.  She had a sudden vision of Isabela and Merrill leading the servants away, having convinced them to live a life of crime on the high seas.  They would have sworn off all other loyalties and now be devoted to Isabela.

“As long as you aren’t going to search for your next crew,” Hawke warned.  He must have had a similar vision as to the one that Elisabeta had.  “I need you to come back to Kirkwall with me.”  He smiled wanly at her and then leaned in to kiss her cheek.  “I need you.”

“Ah,” Isabela kissed him softly.  “I like that.  I swear that I’ll take you with me if we all decide to board a ship and prey on those of the Qunari and everyone else.”

“Do I need to remind you what happened last time you messed with the Qun,” Hawke gently rebuffed her.”

“I met you,” she reminded him.  “That’s what happened.  Don’t worry, Lissa, we’ll find out what’s going on.  You can take the more direct route against the Qun.” 

“I will,” Elisabeta assured her.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found herself once again staring at the Eluvian with her team behind her.

“When we’ve beaten the Vida-whatever, I’m going to break all of these mirrors,” Sera declared.  “I’m sick of even seeing them.”

“I hear there are bets on whether or not we survive the Exalted Council,” Varric casually announced.

“There are,” Elisabeta produced several notes she’d found around the area.  “They are also calling us rude and one of them seems to think I have a penchant for punching Orlesians.”

“You do,” The Iron Bull agreed with the betters.

“Still, if I find these people, I’m punching one of them,” Elisabeta threatened.

Varric shrugged.  “They are Orlesians.  Nothing less would be expected of you, Tempest.  Let’s take care of the Viddasala first.  I’m done putting up with her shenanigans.”

“You and me both,” Elisabeta greed.  “Alas, right now we have to use them to find this library and find this bitch.”

“Agreed,” Cassandra growled.  “Let’s go.”

They soon found themselves in the Crossroads once again.  It was the same spot they always emerged into.  This time, there were no helpful Qunari for them to follow or so they thought.  Then a pair were seen running up steps that Elisabeta had never noticed.

She quickly followed.  That’s when she noticed an egg-shaped sculpture.  It wasn’t stone.  She wasn’t sure what it was.  There were glowing hand prints on it.

“Did the ancient elfy-elves worship eggs?”  Sera wondered.  “It’s a strange… what are you doing, Lissa?  Don’t put your hands on the glowy egg thingy!”

Elisabeta did just that.  Stairs lifted into the sky, leading to yet another Eluvian.  “Look at that.  We’re going through?”

“I’m with Sera, this is foolish,” Cassandra sighed.  “But it’s the only way to get to the Viddasala.”

They went though.

Sure enough, they emerged in the ruins of a library.

“Good,” The Iron Bull declared.  “Time to get some answers.”

Elisabeta looked around.  “It’s an old elven library.  This is amazing.”

“It definitely saw a massive magical backlash some time ago,” Dorian commented.

“Let’s hope we can track down the Viddasala in all this,” Elisabeta was determined to find the woman.  No one threatened to blow up a building where Alistair and their baby were.  The Viddasala was going to pay for that alone.

As she looked around, Elisabeta began opening books.  She doubted that she would be able to read them.  She realized that she should have brought Morrigan.  She was shocked when she understood one of the books.  It was called Vir Dirthara: The Signs of Victory.  The pages described a monument, a statue really, being created in a single day by several thousand servants toiling together.  When the slaves were done, they had disappeared and the statue started talking, praising Elgar ‘nan.  “Elgar’ nan used his powers and servants to make a statue that praised him,” she noted. 

“He should’ve used them to help people,” Sera insisted.

“I agree,” Elisabeta did.  “He could have done a lot.  Instead, he gloried in how much he loved himself.”

“He probably loved himself every chance he could get,” Sera guffawed and laughed at her own joke.

Elisabeta then found a scroll that contained a chapter of Hard in Hightown that she’d never read. 

She hadn’t realized that Varric had been reading over her shoulder until he spoke.  “I didn’t write that,” he declared.

“It must be from someone’s dream,” Dorian deduced.  “This is the Fade.”

Varric had moved on to more books.  “Can’t we take some of these with us?”

“No,” Dorian spoke again.  “They’re also memories… or dreams.  They don’t exist in our world.”

Varric shrugged.  “I’m willing to test that theory.”  He put a couple of books in his pack.

“As am I,” Elisabeta followed suit.

Cassandra glanced up from a history she was trying to decipher.  She looked back at her book and then at her friends.  Then she, too, stashed a few books.  “We shall see what happens.”

“You can’t take it with you,” Bull insisted. 

“I’m still going to try!”  Elisabeta insisted.  Of course, with her luck, it would probably turn into something boring, like a ring.  She’d had enough crystals in the Fade do that.  But a book wouldn’t betray her.  Would it?

“Oh, look, another Eluvian,” Varric rolled his eyes.  “We’re going through it, aren’t we?”

“I don’t want to,” Sera pouted.

“Neither do I,” Elisabeta admitted.  “But we must.”

“We must,” Cassandra agreed.

They stepped through.

Chapter Text

“The Inquisition is out of control!”  Teagan ranted at Alistair.

Alistair thought his uncle needed to find a new theme.  The Inquisition should be much further down on his list of concerns.  “Your personal life is out of control, Uncle Teagan.  The Inquisition isn’t the reason I’m on my way to act as your Second.  I’m negotiating the terms of your duel.  Let’s pray to the maker that I can find a way to save your life.  I may even be able to have the duel set aside until your little miracle is born.”  All of Halamshiral was having so much fun going along with the claims that Teagan had somehow become… enceinte.  It would be sad that there would be no bundle of joy, if it weren’t for the fact that Teagan had managed to implant his seed in Ghislain’s younger sister.  “Even if I do convince him, I have a feeling Kaitlyn’s going to make sure you can’t sire any more children.  I would expect nothing less from Betta if I had done what you have.”

“I…”  Teagan bristled.  “I am a man!  I have desires and needs!  And I’m not gestating!”

“That isn’t what the healers say,” Alistair countered.  “Also, what does being a man have to do with needs and desires?  Do you not think that women have the same desires?  Yet they are able to control themselves.  Maker knows Anora hadn’t been able to control herself, but most women can.  Really, uncle, you have made the bed I’m trying to get you out of and caboodled a young woman in it too boot.  Now, keep your breeches on while I try to handle this.  Maybe you should go apologize to Adrianna, the Head of the Inquisition, while I’m gone.”

“I will not!”  Teagan yelled.  “They are lording over Halamshiral as if they are the ones running this Exalted Council.  They aren’t!  They’ll come after us next!”

“They don’t think they’re running this Exalted Council,” Alaistair assured him.  “They aren’t happy it exists and would like nothing better than to have it dissolve.  They just don’t plan to go along with anyone’s plans for them.  Now, unless you want to come talk to Ghislain with me, I suggest you go find a cold bath to soak in.  Then I have to check to see if Denerim was threatened like Halamshiral was.  Really, you should be worrying about the Qunari, rather than the Inquisition.”

Ghislain was willing to consider not killing Teagan.  Alistair knew Beta would be a bit put out that he managed to save Teagan’s life.  She really wanted his uncle dead, but had no reason to kill him herself.  Well, she definitely wouldn’t she a tear over his death.  Who was he kidding, she’d dance on his grave.  He knew his wife. 

Yet Ghislain had listened to Alistair’s offers.  They included marrying his sister to the new Arl of Guerrin and convincing the Divine to annul Teagan’s marriage to Kaitlyn, so Ghislain could court her.

Alistair didn’t know when the pair had become… infatuated… with each other, but Kaitlyn had been at their meeting and seemed to want Ghislain to court her.  She was certainly done with her husband.  Infidelity could do that to a marriage, Alistair supposed.  He would never willingly test that theory himself.

Messages needed to be sent to Redcliffe, there was an arl to bring into the conversation, one who may not be willing to pass the previous arl’s child off as his own.  Still, the new arl was a nice guy, maybe he would.

Alistair was composing the message when word came in from Denerim.  The Qunari had targeted the palace.  Kegs of gatlock had been found and at least one elven servant was now in the dungeon, awaiting his return.  Alistair cursed.  All he could think of was what could have happened if the barrels had gone off when Elisabeta and Andromeda were in the palace.  What could have happened if they hadn’t found the barrels in Halamshiral.  The Qun had targeted his family.  He was going to go cuddle with his daughter, then he was sending word to the Bannorn.  They had been so obsessed with the Inquisition that they hadn’t seen one of their true enemies moving in the shadows.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found herself in an even worse part of the Fade.  That was saying a lot, as all of the Fade sucked.  It sucked Orlesian Fruit Balls.  There were stairs that led to some unknown destination and floating islands and debris as far as the eye could see. 

A spirit stood in front of them.  It flickered roses and soft yellows.  “Visitors, welcome,” the spirit said to them.  “The halls are open.”

The halls were broken and were basic death traps.  Yet it didn’t seem that the spirit was trying to lead them to their doom, it genuinely seemed to welcome them.

“What are you?”  Elisabeta wanted to know.

“I am study,” the spirit introduced itself.  “I am a learning thirst.  Come, know what has not been lost.  New words.  New stories.  The Qunari would not approach, but we learned their words as well.”

“The Qunari rejected a thirst for learning.”  That seemed to explain a lot about them, Elisabeta decided.  Who wouldn’t want new words and new stories?  When she told Leliana about that, the former Bard was going to have a brain explosion.

“They did,” the spirit confirmed.  “That did not keep us from learning, however.  If you wish to exchange knowledge, they congregate by the lower gate.”

Great, too bad Elisabeta had no idea where the lower gate was.  She’d find it, but she suspected there would be plenty of fun danger and fighting to get there.  It might help if she had any idea where she was.  It was the Fade, but it wasn’t.  She’d gotten there through Eluvian Mirrors and she was sure the library used to be real.  “What did the Ancient Elves use this place for?”

“This is the Vir Dirthara,” the spirit informed her.  “It is the living knowledge of the Empire.  The libraries of every city.  The wisdom of every court.  A connecting place whose paths are in disarray.”

This led credence to the theory that the Ancient Elves had used Eluvians to travel and had never built roads.  She wondered how trade worked.  Was there another place that had once been a huge market that connected to every city and every court?  She wondered how taxes and duties worked in such a system.  She had so much to ask, but no time to ask those questions, so she kept her concerns to the matter at hand.  “What caused the paths to become in disarray?”

“The Vir Dirthara was made with both World and Fade.  When they sundered, so did we,” the spirit claimed.

“That makes no sense,” Sera argued.  “They have always been separated.”

“No, they have not,” the spirit assured.

“They have!”  Sera insisted.

“No,” the spirit maintained.  “They were connected.  When they separated, paths were broken, knowledge fragmented, many were trapped.  I preserved their last words.”

No one’s last words should be lost or go unheard.  The thought saddened Elisabeta.  How many people’s last words had been forgotten.  How many of those who once lived was there no record or memory of?  “What were those last words?”  She had to know.

“What happened?”  The spirit quoted.  “Where are the paths?  Where are the paths?”  The desperation of those who’d first uttered those words could still be heard in the spirit’s voice.  “Gods save me, the floor is gone!  Do not let me fall.  Do not let me…”  The way the spirit’s voice cut off lent no doubt that the ancient elf had indeed fallen.  “On this spot, that is all.”

“Thanks,” the Iron Bull muttered.  “That really paints a picture.”

“I have a clear one in my mind,” Dorian agreed.

Elisabeta agreed with him.  Yet she wanted to know more about those two elves.  Who were they?  What were they like?  She suspected that she would never know and shifted her attention back to the woman who was threatening her family.  “I’m looking for a Qunari called the Viddasala.  Do you know what she wants here?”

“The Viddasala?  Yes,” the spirit had seen her.  “She uses scholars and mages for study.  They fear this place, but they seek to know the veil.”

This wasn’t good.  A Qunari using mages was bad enough, but the Qun practically disavowed the existence of the veil.  The idea that the Maker made it, didn’t set with what the Qun preached.  “What does the Viddasala want to know about the veil?”  And how could she use that to her advantage?

“I regret that I do not have more information,” the spirit did sound regretful.  “I am sundered from myself.”

“That sounds painful,” Varric commented to Cassandra.

The spirit ignored them and continued to speak with Elisabeta.  “If you discover another one of me nearer the Qunari, I may know more.”  She, at least the spirit sounded like a she to Elisabeta, paused for a moment and then continued.  “Kindly give it my greetings.  I have not thought with myself for some time.”

“Wait, we can’t just let her go,” Varric sounded desperate.  She knows so much.

“What Varric said,” Dorian backed him up.

Elisabeta agreed with them.  “There must be thousands of years of history here.  There must be so much you can teach us.”

Varric was reaching for quill and parchment, even as Elisabeta pleaded.

“I will try to recall, honored patron,” the spirit acquiesced.  “But there are gaps… breaks… Greetings, laughter, Emma Enasal.  Forms of air, light, memories.  Aneth Ara!  So many.  Broken paths at every… missing, missing, missing!”

“Stop, please,” Cole begged to the spirit.  “You don’t need to hurt yourself!”

“Yes,” the spirit gave in to him.  “I… wisdom from Compassion.  Yes, I will stop.”

Cole didn’t see the glares Elisabeta, Varric, and Dorian sent his way.

“Apologies,” the spirit addressed the others.  “I knew all once.  We knew.  With the break, it’s only fragments or knowledge new, since the fall.”

All that knowledge lost.  It made Elisabeta want to weep.  It had to be worse for the person who was once a vessel for that knowledge.  “I understand,” there was compassion in her own voice.  “We’ll be going now.”

“Know this,” the spirit stopped her.  “An unknown person, not of the Qunari, recently woke up The Librarians.”

That didn’t sound good.  Elisabeta had never feared librarians before, but there was something very ominous in that warning.  “Could that unknown person be the Agent of Fen’Harel?”

“The one the Templar told us about?”  Dorian asked that made a hmmm sound.

“The Librarians facilitated learning before the fracture, before the fall,” the spirit explained.  “Now, beware of them.  They are unwell.”

Mentally unwell academics were always dangerous, Elisabeta knew that.  Somehow, she suspected that these particular ones would be using more than knowledge against them.  “Thank you for everything.”

Elisabeta led her people up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase, was another giant egg.  She could also see Qunari ahead, but out of her reach.  “There!”  She pointed them out to her team.  “On that… upside down island.”  What in the Maker…

Cole somehow managed to immediately tune into the Qunari.  “Shivering, wide awake, watching for demons.  This isn’t home.  This isn’t home at all.”

“They handle the Fade almost as well as you do, Bull,” Dorian teased his boyfriend.

“Yeah, well, they don’t have a trusty Vint at their back,” Bull pointed out.

Maker, she hated the Fade!  Elisabeta seethed, even as she approached another giant egg statue and put her hands to it.  Several steps floated up, towards the island, but it wasn’t enough.  Was she dealing with a puzzle inside of the Fade?  This just got worse!  Someone was going to suffer for this!  She planned to kill the Viddasala horribly and then perhaps torture Teagan on top of it, just for giving her a headache on top of the ones piling up on her.

“Well, that repaired some of the steps.”  There was false positivity in Dorian’s voice.

“Not enough to get us there, though,” Bull groaned.

“Let’s look for more.”  Cassandra was resigned.  She sounded as miserable as Elisabeta felt.

Elisabeta began looking around.  “The inverted Eluvian must lead to the Qunari.  I just want to know why we have to suffer so horribly getting to them!”

“We can go dragon hunting when this is over, Boss,” The Iron Bull suggested.

“That… would help,” Elisabeta admitted.

“I miss the dragons,” Cassandra admitted.

“They’re better than puzzles and floating thingies,” Sera agreed.

Elisabeta found a little side pathway and took it. 

After looking around for several minutes, she came upon another Eluvian.  “This suck,” she declared right before she stepped though.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found herself in a strange courtyard.  She wasn’t sure if the was the Eluvians or the Fade that was causing everything around her to not make any sense.  There was a strange tree in the middle of the courtyard that had electricity moving around it.  A book lay under the tree and there were several baskets with healing potions in them set about the area.  That was always a bad sign.  “I hate this,” she grumbled.

“Ditto,” Sera agreed.

Elisabeta stepped towards the tree and her left hand flared.  Pain shot through her hand and up her arms, seeming to come from the Anchor.  She cried out and shook her hand, as if that could help.

“The Anchor seems to be reacting badly to elven magic,” Dorian observed.

“Now I wish Chuckles was here,” Varric admitted.  “That didn’t look or sound good.”

“We need to keep an eye on it,” Cassandra agreed.

Elisabeta opened the book.  It was all in Ancient Elven.  There was no way she could translate it.  She picked up another book off to the side.  This one she could understand.  The pages of this book (memory?) described an immensely tall, immensely graceful vine that flowers with the heat of a copper sunset and has blossoms as large as ponds, petals as long as a man, and scents puffing out like citron and sky and carrion-death.

The day the last of the vines folds, spent and extinct, the creator of this memory weeps and, after recording the flower's sights and sounds, enters uthenera.

"Treasure this thought, for it was the last of its kind, and so much more than the last of me."

“I think it’s some kind of poetry,” Elisabeta crinkled her nose.  Then she handed the book to Cassandra.  “Perhaps you can stand reading more of it.”

Cassandra took the book and flipped through some of the pages.  “Yes, very nice.  Thank you.”

“Perhaps you’ll like this one better, Tempest,” Varric handed her a book he’d picked up.

The pages of this book showed a narrow plateau on top of a mountain, Two armored figures, one in gold, one in black.  They were fighting in the snow. Steel flickers so fast the air hums. Blood dots the ground. They do not stop for breath. The one in black makes no sound as a blade parted his throat.

"Mythal, in her wisdom, interceded in an argument between Elgar'nan and Falon'Din. With clever words, she convinced them to settle their grievance through a battle of their champions. Elgar'nan and Falon'Din agreed, and set their champions against each other rather than declare war among the gods. May those knights long be remembered, and Mythal's wisdom be praised."

“Oh, this is much better,” she agreed.  It contained much more action and a lot less purple prose.

She continued going through the books, as her team also examined the area. 

There were several statues and two more Eluvians.  She had a terrible feeling that she would have to go through the horrid things.

As she searched, Cole began to freak out.  “The Veil isn’t real,” he declared.  “It false, faux, fake, fabricated to forbid.  Isn’t it wonderful?”

No, not it was not wonderful.

“Wonderful isn’t the word I would have chosen,” Bull informed Cole.  “No wonder my people are shitting themselves about this place.”

“It means I belong here!”  Cole declared.  “Helping, healing the hurt!  I’m not a wrong thing, a wreck, a ruin.  I’m what I should be!”  He let out a long sigh.  “Solas understands!”

“Is that what you want to be kid?”  Varric challenged.  “You’ve been trying so hard to be more human.  Do you want to stay here?”

“I’d have to leave Maryden?”  Cole’s voice got sad.  “And I like being more human, even when I have to use the toilet.  I like soaking in bathtubs and getting sleepy.  That feeling when you’re really tired and you allow yourself to drift to sleep.  It’s like falling, but safe.”

“That’s right, Kid,” Bull encouraged him.  “You’re Cole, you belong with us.  Solas would have really liked this place, though.  His loss for taking off.”

“He would,” Cole agreed.  “He wanted me to stay as I used to be.  Faded.  But I like what I’ve become.  I’ve grown, become more.  He… he was stuck, he couldn’t move from his past.  He kept it hidden, safe.  He wasn’t willing to try to become more, to become new.”

“Growth is just part of being alive,” Varric told him.  “We have to try to become more and to evolve.”

Elisabeta agreed.  She continued to search the courtyard.  She did miss Solas at the moment, he would be in his element; while she despised the Fade and whatever mess she was in.  It was the only library she didn’t love. 

After some time, she had to face an awful truth.  She had to go through the Eluvians.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta emerged from yet another Eluvian into what appeared to be a broken tower.  There were still strangely shaped trees and ruins everywhere.  Sure enough, one of the trees appeared to be sparking.

“I hate these mirror things,” Sera griped.

“As do I,” Elisabeta assured her.

She moved through the tower, not exactly sure what she was looking for.  She was seventy five percent sure it would be another one of the strange, large eggs.  There were ruins and sudden drop offs everywhere.  “Everyone, watch your step.”  Oh, and there were dead Qunari.  “And try not to trip over the Qunari bodies.”  She absently wondered who had killed them.  Was it the librarians she’d been warned about, or the Agent of Fen’Harel the now dead ex-Templar had gone on about?  There wasn’t a mark on them, which was strange, but didn’t eliminate either suspect.

The Iron Bull stopped and examined one of the bodies.  “Backs hunched; eyes wide open… They were scared shitless when they died.”

“Maybe that’s why they died,” Sera suggested. 

“Because they had no more shit or because they were really scared?”  Cole asked her.

“Yes,” Sera answered.

Elisabeta continued to examine the area.  She found the remains of a short fence.  She could scout the area on the other side, but then there was a big drop off.  She also found two more bookshelves.  “Whoever did this to a library had to be evil.”

“Agreed,” Dorian nodded.  “Only a truly mad, evil person could do this to a place that held so many books.  The books will be avenged.”

“They will,” Elisabeta promised.

There was a strange circle of statues in another area.  Elisabeta stopped and examined them for a moment.  They each held a basket.  The baskets reminded her of a brazier.  “I wonder what strange rituals took place here.”

“It could have just been a cozy spot for reading,” Cassandra suggested.  “If there used to be grass and a nice blanket here.  Or perhaps a comfortable bench.  With the braziers lit at night, it could be quite cozy.”

“I like that thought,” Elisabeta admitted.  It was more comforting than the dark ritual she suspected.

Behind the statues was a staircase.  Elisabeta cautiously moved up the steps and was surprised to see an Archivist, the helpful library spirits, at the top.

“Welcome, welcome!”  The Archivist greeted her.  “Listen to the last words of those who lived past the fall!”

“I’d rather not,” Sera cringed.

“I would love to know their words,” Elisabeta insisted.  Knowledge should never be lost.

The Archivist seemed to nod and gave them those words.  “How could the Dread Wolf cast a veil between the world that wakes and the world that dreams?”  She paused and then continued.  “The Evanuris will send people.  They will save us!”  There was another slight pause.  “When have you last heard from the gods?  When the veil came down, they went silent!” 

So, it was a conversation between two people, Elisabeta realized.  One who thought the false gods of the Elven People would save them and the other who realized they could not.

“What is this veil?”  The spirit continued.  “What has Fen’Harel done?”

There was one implication in the conversation that Elisabeta was struggling to get her mind around.  “Are these ‘records’ saying that Fen’Harel created the Veil between our world and the Fade?”  The implications were staggering.

“They’re saying some guy just made the Veil?”  The Iron Bull was also struggling with that concept.  “We must have been ass deep in demons before then.”

“No,” Sera was shaking, causing her words to shake as well.  “No, it can’t be.  The Veil has always been there.”

“If this is true, that means the Fade and the Waking World were once one and the same,” Cole realized.  He was the only one who seemed excited by the prospect.

“I don’t like the idea of sleeping somewhere where demons can just come along,” Cassandra declared.

“Nor do I,” Dorian agreed.  “Plus, it would mean the Chantry lied to us.”

“Blondie’s going to be excited by that,” Varric declared.

Elisabeta concentrated on the spirit for the moment.  “Do you have any other memories for us?”

“No,” the Archivist sounded sad.  “Perhaps another of my kind will.”

Elisabeta nodded.  “I thank you for your time.”

“Share these words,” the Archivist urged

“I will,” Elisabeta promised.

Then she moved, exploring the area again, until she found another large egg.  She put her hand on the egg.

“My guess is that more stairs are going up,” Varric commented.

“That would be logical,” Bull agreed.

“Let’s go see,” Elisabeta headed back towards the courtyard.

Chapter Text

“Andraste’s big bosoms!”  Sera swore as she whipped out her bow.

The moment Elisabeta had stepped through the Eluvian into the Courtyard, she’d been attacked by Qunari.

“I didn’t think Qunari warriors could read,” Varric commented, even as he shot bolt after bolt into them.  “Yet hear they are in a library.  Will wonders never cease.”

“Hey,” The Iron Bull objected.

“You aren’t like the rest, Tiny,” Varric assured him.

“That’s for sure.”  Dorian gave his boyfriend a suggestive smile before he threw a fireball at one of the attacking Qunari.

Elisabeta blended into shadows and came up behind one of the Qun.  She crossed her swords across his necks, easily decapitating him.

Cassandra hit another with her shield and then followed that up with a thrust.  “It doesn’t seem strange.  Are there any great Qunari writers, Bull?”

“Besides Koslun?”  Bull mused, even as he slashed at one of his opponents, cutting into the other man’s shoulder.  “Not that I can think of.  The Qun discourages frivolous reading.”

“There is no such thing as frivolous reading, Tiny,” Varric insisted.  “We should have gone after the Qun sooner, just for that.”

“For now, let’s protect the Fade Library from them,” Elisabeta suggested.  “And all the other libraries in Thedas for that matter.”  She made a whirlwind motioned and cut down two more Qun.

“I’m with you, Tempest,” Varric filled another Qunari full of bolts.  The Qunari fell face down, as if worshipping Bianca in his death, as well he should.

“Someone was nice enough to leave a crate full of healing potions!”  Sera pointed to the middle of the courtyard.  “Fill up everybody!”

The group followed Sera’s suggestion, while Elisabeta stared at the Eluvian she hadn’t gone through before.  She had no choice, but to go through it now.

The Eluvian led to another part of what was once a library.  There was a gold mosaic floor and many more bookshelves.  How much knowledge had been lost when the library fell?

There was also another Archivist.

“Welcome.  Welcome,” the Archivist greeted her.  “Listen to the last words of those who lived past the fall.”  She paused and then began repeating those precious last words.  She repeated phrases like those said before.  They spoke of a veil that went up between two worlds that were once one.  People cried to the Evanuris to save them, but none even heard from the powerful mages that they thought were gods.  Then there were the screams of those who fell through cracked floors and missing walls.  It was an apocalypse, the end of the Ancient Elve’s world.  Not all were just shouting words of despair, though. 

“If we get out of here, I will end Fen’Harel!”  The Archivist spoke the words of another elf. 

“After he held back the sky to imprison the gods, the Dread Wolf disappeared.”  These last words knew more of what had happened then those before. 

“Lies!”  The Archivist was obviously quoting someone new.  “We must tear down the Veil!  The cities, the pathways…  Without magic, they’re crumbling!”  It was someone trapped in the Fade.

Elisabeta found the idea horrifying.

“You’re wasting your time,” The Archivist gave the words of another, one who was possibly answering the previous Ancient Elf whom she was quoting.  “Fen’Harel’s Veil has turned our empire to ruins.”

Elisabeta found it a little disconcerting to hear it called Fen’Harel’s Veil.  Still, it answered some questions and brought up more.  “So, the Ancient Elven Empire collapsed because the Veil weakened magic?”  How powerful was magic before?  If that level of magic was returned, what would it do to Thedas? 

“If the Old Elves relied on magic even more than the Vints…”  The Iron Bull answered.  “No wonder things went to crap when it dried up.”

That made Elisabeta consider just how much the Qun seemed to hate magic.  No wonder the Viddasala was going crazy.  The Saarebas and Vints could unite and together destroy the Qunari now.  With the magic she imagined the Ancient Elven Empire had returned, it would be super easy, barely and inconvenience to tear the Qun down.

“My countrymen are going to shit themselves,” Dorian confided.

Elisabeta suspected he was right.  They would be reeling to know that the empire they claimed to have defeated was destroyed by wounds inflicted by their own presumed gods and not the Imperium.  She had other concerns at the moment, though.  “There has to be another giant egg around here.  Let’s find it and get touchy with it.”

Sure enough, she found another large egg statue.

“It’s like the elves went crazy with some spring festival,” Sera commented.

Gazing at the egg, Elisabeta had to agree.  She put her hands on it, knowing that it would raise the rest of the steps she needed.  “That should do it.  Let’s go kick some Qunari butt.”

Chapter Text

“Teagan Guerrin used to be a very different man,” Kaitlyn confided to Ghislain as they walked arm in arm along the pathways near the spas of Halamshiral’s palace.

They could hear the man in questioning yelling from the Exalted Council.

A voice responded to him.  It was Adrianna Rutherford’s voice.  No, it was definitely that of Garrette Hawke.

“I would hope not,” Ghislain absently patted her arm.  “I would hate to think you ever had the bad taste to marry someone like him.”

“Oh, it was an advantageous marriage,” she assured him.  “Any starry-eyed village girl would have accepted his proposal.”

“He somehow talked my sister into bed without even a word of marriage,” Ghislain grumbled.

“And he used to be even more charming, charming enough that I overlooked his faults,” she confided.  “Now that I think back, there were a few things that I should have paid attention to.  He hid in the Chantry with the rest of the town’s folk, while the militia fought the undead.”  Her face darkened a moment.  “Those creatures killed my mother.  His own nephew created them.”

“His nephew?”  Ghislain repeated.

“He was a mage who made a deal with a Desire Demon,” she explained.  “He was a child who had never been taught to control his powers.  How could Teagan not realize that?  Did he never visit his nephew?  Isolde seemed awfully familiar with him, for someone who didn’t see him often, so it couldn’t have been that.”

“Perhaps it could,” Ghislain countered.  “Teagan seems to have quite the effect on women.”

Kaitlyn laughed.  “One would think it would have diminished after he began to look so gaunt.  He didn’t age like fine wine, more like curdled milk.”

“He still turned my sister’s head,” Ghislain grumbled.

Kaitlyn nodded.  “So, he did.”

“How long will the healers keep telling him he’s with child?”  Ghislaine changed the subject.  “My sister went to see one of them, about her own condition, and they were again telling him that he was in the family way.”

Kaitlyn fluttered her eyelashes.  “Are you saying he isn’t?”

Ghislain laughed again and moved his arm to pull her closer to him.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta made her way back through the Eluvians, trying to get to the stairs that she hoped she’d succeeded in raising.

As she stepped into the Courtyard, angry spirits appeared.

“Oh, you have to be shitting me,” she cursed.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Tempest,” Varric agreed.

“I take it these are the Librarians the Archivists warned us about,” Cassandra sighed, even as she unsheathed her sword.

“You’d think librarians would be nicer,” Sera griped.

“They’re surrounded by books all day, what’s not happy to be about?”  Varric aimed Bianca.

Elisabeta blended into the shadows, before taking on a one of the three Librarians who appeared and did, indeed, attack them on sight.

The Iron Bull and Cassandra teamed up on another one.

Dorian happily set mines around the third, even as Sera and Varric filled him with flying pointy objects.

The battle lasted almost half an hour, but the Librarians would not lend another book again by the time they were done.

“To the stairs!”  Elisabeta proclaimed as she stepped through the Eluvian.

Elisabeta’s team had to navigate narrow walkways with nothing but a plunge to their death on either side, but they made it back to the stairs.  Now a full staircase presented itself before them and a way to the floating island.

The team slowly made their way up the stairs, ready for an attack at any moment. 

The stairs led to a narrow pathway, with deadly drops at either end.  Then there was yet another Eluvian.

“Poncy elven poncy mirrors,” Sera cursed.  “Couldn’t they just ride horses like everyone else?”

“I prefer this over horses,” Varric informed her.

“I don’t,” Cassandra made a disgusted noise.  “Had you ever noticed that horses didn’t like Solas?  You and he should have taken notes, Varric.  Perhaps the horses were trying to tell you something.”

“That they’re big and uncomfortable,” Varric proclaimed.  “That they prefer pulling carriages, rather than having us on their back.”

“The ancient elves obviously didn’t use chariots, either,” Elisabeta pointed out, just before she stepped through yet another mirror.

Elisabeta emerged at what was once the front of a very beautiful building.  The pool and fountains remained, as did the intricate details of the staircases and the frescos around the building.  There were also the remnants of cozy alcoves.

Fanned around the area happened to be dozens of Qunari, all were armed.  Some casually held their axes against their shoulders, while others crouched, ready for attack.

She had found the Qunari.  Yeah!

“Survivor of the breach.  Herald of change,” an unseen voice spoke.  It was feminine, yet held a sharp edge.

Elisabeta looked around for the speaker, ready to blend into the shadows at a moment’s notice.

A female Qunari stepped up to one of the staircase landings.  She wore breeches and a top made out of intricately woven ropes.  They would make a macrame expert weep in joy.  She even had knots holding a book in place.  Elisabeta wondered if the woman ever stretched and accidentally hit herself with the book.  She also wondered if the woman thought her horns impressive.  Sten had had not horns and this woman could have had so many more choices in what to do with her hair without those large horns in the way.  Her braids didn’t impress Elisabeta one bit.  They weren’t even braids.  She appeared to shave the side of her head and just roll the top of her hair.  Did the Qun not assign anyone the roll of hairdresser?  This particular Qun was still talking.  “Hero of the South.”

“The Viddasala, I presume” Elisabeta raised an eyebrow.  “You forgot many more of my titles.  I didn’t survive the Breach, by the way.  I wasn’t even at the Temple of Andraste when the explosion first took place.  That is just where Andraste delivered me back at.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that version of your tale.”  The Viddasala’s voice made it obvious that she didn’t believe that version.

“You mean the truth?”  Elisabeta cocked her head.  “I looked up my old team mate, Sten of the Barassaad.  He seems to hold an important roll in your deplorable society.  What has he said about what happened at the end of the Fifth Blight?  He was there when I died.  You know there are records of the events.  I have been assured that there was a funeral.  Did the South hide me in some elaborate ruse?  Are we playing a long game?  Or can the Qun just not admit that they are wrong?  Of course, it’s the latter, don’t even bother to answer.”  Not that she’d given the Viddasala a chance to answer.  She just kept going, on a roll, and determined to make sure the other woman knew how she felt, before she was forced to kill her and her minions.  “The Qun is afraid of the truth.  That is why you assign rolls to their people.  They don’t want to give them the freedom to pursue their passions or explore their possibilities.  That would lead the them exploring their world and finding truths, truths that could unravel your claims and your tenuous hold on power.”

“Uh, Boss,” The Iron Bull began.  “That’s not why…”

“Don’t interrupt Lissa when she’s on a roll, Amaratus,” Dorian stopped him.  “You know how much she hates that.  Let her tell the Viddasala what she really thinks.”

“You are single minded tyrants,” Elisabeta continued.  “You fear the independence of your people, for they would enact change and you fear change, just as you fear Andraste and the Seeker.  For you cannot comprehend that your Koslan lied to you and you still worship him, not the Maker, but some flawed man who tried to tell you the Maker wasn’t real so he could hoard power.”

“Are you done?”  The Viddasala demanded to know.

“No, but did you want to say something?”  Elisabeta looked down her nose at her, quite the accomplishment since the Viddasala was literally standing feet above her.

“After fulfilling your purpose at the Breach, it’s astonishing to hear you still walked free among your people,” the Viddasala declared.

“After birthing you, it’s astonishing your own mother didn’t strangle you with your cord and then throw you off a cliff for good measure,” Elisabeta retorted.  “But here we are.”

“Whoa, harsh,” Bull cringed.

“Don’t they throw babies who are not an asset to the Qun off cliffs, Bull?”  Dorian questioned.  “I heard there was some test they went through where they were laid in wine and if the baby cried, they were considered too weak to be a Qunari.  That and the sickly ones.  It’s what I was taught happened.”

“I have never met the woman,” the Viddasala was confused.  “But I can assure you that I was a strong baby.  As for you, Inquisitor, your duty is done.  It is time to end your magic.”

“I don’t have any magic,” Elisabeta lied.  Then she realized the Viddasala was talking about the anchor.  “The anchor repairs tears in the Veil.  I would think you’d approve of that.”

“Is that all it does?”  The Viddasala taunted.  “Tell me, why do you hold your hand as if it’s begun to pain you?  I am no stranger to catastrophe, but this chaos in the South defies comprehension.  The Qun left your people to curb your own magic.  You’ve amply proved we should have stepped in long ago.”

“Sten already admitted to me, more than ten years ago, that the Qun planned to eventually invade The South,” Elisabeta revealed.  “Don’t act as if you haven’t been looking for an excuse to invade.  You’ve just been too afraid to do so when we were battling Archdemons and Arch-Darkspawns who want to be gods.  You just think it’s safe now.  Trust me, we’ll have something else you’re afraid of pop in soon enough.  What will you do if there is a Blight?  Did Sten bring home an answer the Qun could comprehend?  I haven’t heard of a Qunari branch of the Grey Wardens forming, which you should have done.  Or is it just that the Grey Wardens won’t share their secrets with you.”  She knew either, or both, could be the case.  “There are still two Old Gods out there.  Perhaps one is under Par Vollen.  Yet you want to come to the South and cause trouble.”  She narrowed her eyes at the Viddasala.  “Were you the one who ordered the gatlock be sent to Denerim?”

“Denerim?”  The Viddasala questioned, showing she didn’t quite know as much about Elisabeta as she claimed.  “You found our barrel at Halamshiral, did you?  Yes, I ordered barrels in Ferelden as well.  There are some in… No, I will keep that to myself, although you won’t leave this place alive.”

So, she had.  She’d had those barrels put in Elisabeta’s home.  “I’m going to make sure you die horribly,” she swore.  “I am going to take my time with it.  Ferelden remembers.  Is that what Dragon’s Breath is for, murdering our heads of state just to control our magic?”  This woman planned to murder Alistair.  That made her Elisabeta’s prey; a dangerous prey, but prey non-the-less.  No matter what happened, she would see the Viddasala dead.

“Do you believe closing the Breach solved everything?”  The Viddasala did not see that this was no longer about the Breach.  “That it’s consequences stopped there?  The day we saw the Breach, the Qun decided its action.  We would remove your leaders and spare those who toil.”  She revealed the Qun’s plans, not realizing that it would give more fire to the retribution that would be unleashed against them. 

Elisabeta hoped Varric was writing everything down.  She would read it to the Bannorn and an army would be called up faster than a dragon gobbled a sheep.  She glanced back at Varric and made a writing motion.

The dwarf raised an eyebrow, but brought out some parchment.

The Viddasala didn’t see the interaction, she was too busy with her monologue.  “This agent of Fen’Harel has disrupted everything.  Lives that were to be spared, lost for him!”

“Who is this Agent of Fen’Harel?”  Elisabeta questioned.  She would have to find him and thank him.  The Viddasala hadn’t planned to spare Alistair, nor herself or Fergus likely.  She wondered if Andromeda would have even been safe.  “And why do you think he works for the Inquisition.”  She had no ties to the Dalish.  Who else would claim to work for Fen’Harel.  Perhaps the Elven God had his own life, like Mythal did, free of the Dalish.  Still, she had nothing to do with him.

The Viddasala didn’t answer.  She merely turned her back.  “Kill the Inquisitor, then follow me to the Darvaarad,” she commanded as she walked away.

“Just for that, I’m killing all your soldiers!”  Elisabeta yelled after her.  Then she blended into the shadows, even as the Qunari planned to strike.  She wielded her blades, moving for the saarebas, even as Varric through his quill and parchment to the ground and unholstered Bianca.  He would pick them back up when they were done.

“Die Qunari scum!”  Sera shouted as she began filling them with arrows.

“The Viddasala is unhinged,” Cassandra commented as she blocked a large Qunari axe with her shield.  She maneuvered around the man, to strike him with her sword.

Elisabeta emerged from the shadows to stab the saarebas in the back.  His shields went up, but she just smiled as she swung Excalibur.  The sword slid easily past the magical barricade and across the saarebas’ neck.  “Have your ghost go tell the Viddasala Bitch that she doesn’t know who she’s messing with,” she told the corpse, before she blended back into the shadows.

Dorian set fire mines around himself and then put up a barrier.  “Come and get the Vint, Qun Boys!”  One charged and was shot into the air.  Dorian then reached out to the body of the Qunari Cassandra had just killed.  He raised its spirit and turned it on its former comrades.

“You shouldn’t support the Viddasala,” Cole told the Qunari he dodged and then stabbed with his long dagger.  “She is full of malice and hate.  You don’t have to follow her.”  When his opponent tried to take his head, Cole stabbed him again.

Sera was standing at the edge of the pool, putting arrow after arrow into her opponents.  A Qunari soldier moved behind her.  He thought he was unseen, but she suddenly rolled back and came up with a dagger, delivering the Cut of a Hundred Knives.  The soldier easily went down, staring at the little elf who’d felled him.

Elisabeta, feinted as another Qunari attacked her.  Then she made a punisher move, cutting him in half when she was done.  She turned to look for her next attacker and realized they were all dead.  “I did warn the Viddasala, about that,” she commented.  “Let’s go after the Viddabitch.”

“It’s always the pretty ones,” Sera agreed.

“You think she’s pretty?”  Dorian was surprised.

“Oh, yeah,” Sera agreed.  Then she made a little howl.

“She’s not good enough for you, Sera,” Elisabeta assured her.  She approached where the Viddasala had gone and found another Archivist waiting for her.  Behind the Archivist was a broken walkway.  She wondered if the Viddasala had damaged it herself.

“Visitors, patrons, welcome,” the Archivist greeted her.  “The halls are open.”

“Can you tell me where the Viddasala went?”  Elisabeta wanted to know. 

“Yes,” the Archivist’s voice was calm and welcoming.  “We heard much, although she fooled herself into thinking we could not hear.”  It was obvious that the Archivist didn’t like the Viddasala, which was a further recommendation for the spirit.  “Take a keystone to the Darvaarad.  I will join you there soon, and take stock of our remaining gaatlok powder.”

Elisabeta wondered what the Viddasala had planned for that powder.  It was a threat to those she loved.

“I found a keystone when I was looting the body of one of the Qunari,” Sera spoke up from behind her.  “Along with twenty silver pieces and a rubber ducky.”

“Yes,” the Archivist agreed.  “And you need words for the key.  ‘Maraas Nehraa.’  It glows.  It will open the way to the Darvaarad.  May you find what you seek.”

“May we all,” Elisabeta responded.

The spirit seemed to smile.  “In coming here, you strengthened the paths.  I can now raise one if you wish to go.”  She didn’t wait for the answer.  The pieces just lifted in the air and put themselves back into place.

“You’ve been very helpful, uh…”  Did the Archivist have an individual name?  Elisabeta realized that she didn’t know.

“Ghil-Dirthalen was what the Elvhen called me,” Ghil-Dirthalen informed her.  “It means ‘One who guides seekers of knowledge true’.  I was connection.  One city could read the records of another.  One Elvhen feel the memories of another.  When the Veil fell upon us, I marked the end of all they knew.”

“Thank you, Ghil-Dirthalen,” Elisabeta gave her a little curtsy.  “So, we’ve got to find this Darvaarad and corner the Viddasala there.”

“That’s sounds like our plan,” Varric agreed.

“We should check in in Halamshiral first,” Cassandra insisted.  “And we need to have Anders take a look at it.  The Viddasala was right about the way you’ve bene holding it.”

It did bother Elisabeta, but she didn’t want to think about it.  The lives of Alistair and Andromeda were in danger.  That was her concern.  She stepped on the path and walked hurriedly across.  She trusted the path’s integrity, but she wanted out of the Fade.  Sure enough, there was yet another Eluvian at the end.

They stepped through.

Chapter Text

“Lady Rutherford, if you tell us one more time that you can’t disband or force the Inquisition to be assimilated into the Chantry one more time, I will find you in contempt of the Exalted Council,” Teagan warned the rogue.

“We all know the Inquisitor finds this Exalted Council contemptable,” Hawke shouted to him.  Many of the others gathered, including King Alistair, chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” Adrianna said sweetly.  “I mean, I’m sorry if this council cannot handle the truth.”

“Perhaps we should wait until the Inquisitor herself can attend,” the Orlesian ambassador suggested.

Teagan shot him a vicious glare.  “She obviously does not care enough about the Inquisition to attend this council, which will decide the Inquisition’s fate.  If she did, she’d be here.”

Leliana laid a hand on Teagan’s arm.  “She is dealing with a threat to Thedas.  I think she’s demonstrating the need for the Inquisition to this Council.  We should let her do that.”

“You’re just saying that because she’s your friend,” Teagan snapped at her.  Then he realized whom he’d just snapped at.  “I mean… Your Grace…  Forgive me, it’s just that I hate to see your position and Holiness dismissed by anyone.”

“Oh, please,” Kaitlyn rolled her eyes.  She sat in the audience beside Ghislaine.  “You’ve said enough things behind the Divine’s back to keep you in a confessional for a year.  That doesn’t include what you’ve apparently been doing behind my back.”

Teagan swallowed.

“I believe what my associate meant was that we cannot make any decisions until we get a better idea of how the Qun are involved in the recent events in Halamshiral and elsewhere,” Josephine tried to sooth ruffled feathers.  “She will also be consulting with Inquisitor Cousland-Theirin before any final decisions are made.  She meant no disrespect to the Exalted Council.”

“I did!”  Hawke shouted.

Teagan motioned for a guard to remove Garret Hawke.

Hawke blew a kiss to the guard and then raised his hand, a fireball danced above it.  “Come on pretty boy, let’s dance.”

Isabela laid a warning hand on Hawke’s arm.  “We talked about this, darling.  You don’t dance without me.  I get to stick the guard first.”

“I don’t remember there being a first,” Hawke objected. 

“There is,” Anders interjected.  “If the person in question is part of the Chantry, I get first… stabs… or is that sparks.”

“As long as you’re not blowing any buildings up,” Solona qualified.

“You don’t let me have any fun,” Anders sighed.  “Very well, my love.  Can I blow up this guard?”

“Only if he messes with Hawke,” Solona insisted.

Anders smiled at the guard.  “Are you going to mess with Hawke?”

The guard glanced at Teagan and then looked to Leliana, who shook her head.  “I must have misheard Ambassador Guerrin.”  He turned and walked away.

Teagan shot to his feet.  “This is ridiculous!”

“You’re ridiculous!”  Sera shouted back from the door.

Elisabeta stood behind Sera.  “What she said.  I’m just here to talk to my people.”  A green light exploded from her hand and sheet grit her teeth, refusing to show weakness in front of the Exalted Council.

“We’re in the middle of a meeting,” Teagan growled at her.  “You should sit down and listen to what the Council has to say.”

“I have more important things to deal with.”  Elisabeta coolly turned around and walked away.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta’s old advisers, and Alistair, followed her out of the Exalted Council’s meeting room and to the rooms where the Inquisition had set up their own war council.  As they walked, Alistair took her hand. 

“Where’s Andie?”  She whispered to him.

“Fenris and Elanna have her,” he told her.

“What?”  She turned sharply towards him.  “Are you sure they’re the best people to be watching our daughter?”

“They could take out any Qunari who looks at her funny,” he assured her.  “Besides, Elanna wants the practice while she decides if she’s ready to start trying for a child of her own.”

“She can practice with someone else’s child!”  Elisabeta bristled.  She supposed her child would be fine, but still…  Then a pain shot through her hand.  She suddenly thought of her daughter living without her.  Fuck, that!  She was going to find a way to live!  She just wasn’t sure how.  She realized, belatedly, that they’d reached the war room and Josephine was speaking. 

Luckily, Josephine was speaking to Leliana and not Elisabeta.  “Your agents have confirmed that there are gaatlock barrels in Denerim palace?”

Alistair made a choked sound and Elisabeta a little growl.  The Qunari had threatened their home.  For all they knew, Alistair and Andromeda were in the Denerim palace.  When she found the Viddasala, she was going to make sure the Qunari’s death was painful.  A quick death was too good for her.

“Yes,” Leliana confirmed the nefarious deed.  “And in Val Royeaux, and across the Free Marches.  The Winter Palace is not the only target.”

“It’s definitely not the one I care most about,” Elisabeta growled.

“The Qunari are one order away from destroying every noble house in the known world,” Cullen declared.

Elisabeta kept her voice steady as she addressed Leliana.  “Do the locations include Highever?”

Leliana took a deep breath before answering.  “They do.”

“The Viddasala’s head is going to be on a spike outside of Highever’s walls,” Elisabeta vowed.  “Across from it is going to be Sten’s.”

“He’s Arishok now,” Alistair informed her.  His voice was soft and low.  “I know where he is.  Don’t worry, we’ll be seeing his ungrateful behind again.  I’ll see to it.”  It was his family that was threatened, too; everything he loved was targeted by the Qun.

“I don’t care what he calls himself, I’m going to behead him with that sword I recovered for him,” Elisabeta swore.

“Won’t that cause trouble between Ferelden and ParVollen?”  Josephine questioned.  Then she blanched.  “Yes, I have a family, too.  Forget I said anything.”  She gulped and quickly recovered.  “There is a bright side; warning the ambassadors will remind them of the Inquisition’s value.”

Leliana tskd, shaking her head.  “Not when the Inquisition is responsible for that threat.”

Elisabeta didn’t like the sound of that.  “I take it you have new information, information that I’m not going to like.”

“The elven servant handling the barrels has disappeared,” Leliana reported.  “Notes in his quarters indicate he was a Qunari spy.”

That didn’t surprise Elisabeta one bit.  “I’ll get Hawke on it.”  He had a history with the Qunari, as did Isabela.  As would she when she was done with them, the Viddasala and Sten would feel her wrath soon enough.

“But the servant was Orlesian,” Josephine protested.  “That implicates Orlais, not us.”

“But the barrels arrived at the Winter Palace on the Inquisition’s supply manifest,” Leliana revealed.

Cullen let out a disgusted sigh.  “How are we supposed to fight a war when we can’t even trust our own people?”

“Do you know who got the barrel onto the Inquisition manifest?”  Elisabeta demanded to know.  She was ready to kick butt, take names, and then kick some more butt.

“Yes,” Leliana confirmed.  “Several of the Inquisition’s elven workers have gone missing.  I had their backgrounds checked.  They joined the Inquisition after fleeing the chaos in Kirkwall.”

“I remember when Kirkwall was at its worse,” Cullen recollected.  “Many of the city’s elves converted to the Qun, trying to find a better life.”

“And the Qunari turned them into spies,” Josie deduced.

Elisabeta knew there were a lot of people in the Inquisition, but letting in spies was inexcusable.  “Leliana, you were my spymaster.  How did they get through your checks?”

“They were not part of Corypheus’ army,” Leliana pointed out.  “I wasn’t checking for connections to the Qun.  If I were, then The Iron Bull wouldn’t have gotten past me, either.”

“He admitted who he was,” Elisabeta reminded her.  “He had to have known there were others.  I’m going to have a word with him and there’s going to be a lot of yelling.  Meanwhile, I want a list of their names.  I’m putting Sera and Fenris on this.  There will be nowhere in Southern Thedas where these elves are safe.  They’re from Kirkwall, perhaps Hawke’s friend, Merrill, will also be helpful.  I swear they will be hunted down.  Check the manifests for any barrels going into Highever or Denerim, as well.  Those will be the first Qunari Spies that I will deal with.”  She planned to make the streets run red with the blood of those spies who had attempted to kill the noble families of Thedas, especially those who had threatened her family.

“That will take a lot of effort,” Josie warned.  She looked uncomfortable.

“Then we should take care of it as soon as I deal with the Viddasala,” Elisabeta suggested.  “Check to see if the Montilyet were among the target.”

Leliana squirmed.  “They were.”  She had obviously not told Josephine Montilyet yet.

“I will see to it, Lissa,” Josie frowned.  Then she pounded a single fist once against the table.  “I fought to defend the Inquisition at the Exalted Council and for what?  So, we could deceive and threaten those we claim to protect?”

“Once we locate the spies…”  Cullen began, seeing where the threat was and who was truly responsible.

“This isn’t about the spies!”  Josephine insisted.  “You hid the Qunari body,” she accused Leliana.  “You’ve all but seized control of the Winter Palace!”

“We did what was right!”  Cullen insisted.  “Not what was politically convenient!”

“Do you know what this has cost us with Fereldan and Orlais?”  Josephine forgot the ruling couple of Ferelden was right in front of her.  “They are planning to dismantle us as we speak!”  She looked down and sniffed.  “And perhaps they are right.”

Elisabeta opened her mouth to verbally slap down the Inquisitor’s ambassador, who dared even suggest Orlais was right about anything, but a sharp pain shot through her hand and up her arm.  She clasped her wrist, but couldn’t stop from crying out.

“Beta!”  Alistair gathered her close as the others turned to look at her.

“Lissa?”  Leliana approached her.  “Are you…”

“I thought Bull or Cassandra would have told you,” She grimaced.  “The hand… it’s getting worse.  I don’t know why and I don’t know how to stop it.”  She had to stop it.  She couldn’t die until she’d made those who threatened her family feel her wrath; but she had to face the truth.  “I don’t know how much time I have left.  What I do know is that the Qunari have to be stopped.  So, I need to get to the Darvaarad while I can still fight.”

“No!”  Alistair growled.  He held her close.  “The Maker returned you to me, to us, and He isn’t going to just take you away again.”

Elisabeta turned and buried her face in his shoulder, letting him comfort her; make her feel safe.

“Thank you, Lissa,” Leliana sounded like she was losing her best friend, which she was.

“No,” Alistair repeated, refusing to give his Beta up.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta didn’t go back through the Eluvian immediately.  No, there was something, someone, who was more important.  She sat in the middle of her room, playing with Andromeda.

Her baby bounced happily as she held her up, letting her stretch and exercise her legs.  Elisabeta had to admit to herself that she was a bit nervous of the anchor somehow hurting Andromeda, but she’d always had a warning, a sharp pain, first and she didn’t want to give up a moment with her baby girl.

She had stopped by a small chapel to send a prayer to Andraste and Her Maker, asking for one more miracle.  She was grateful to be out of the Abyss and for the time that was given back to her with those she loved.  She supposed that when she died again, she would go to the Maker’s Side and wait to be reunited with her loved ones.  She imagined her parents were already there waiting for her.  She also imagined they didn’t want to see her any time soon and were quite content to watch their children from afar, so there had been no harm in asking the Maker to let her stay with her loved ones; to grow old.

Andromeda babbled at her as she bounced, then laughed.  The sound was more lovely than any chant the Faithful had made.  It held more power than a dragon’s roar and more joy than the shouts of victory, even against an archdemon.

“That is the most beautiful sound in Thedas,” a familiar voice declared.

Elisabeta stilled at the sound, not believing her ears.  “Have I fallen asleep?”

Andraste laughed.  “You’ll believe that you have.”  She knelt beside Andie and put a hand on the baby’s head.  “You don’t want to lose your mother, do you?”

Andromeda babbled at her.

“Oh, sorry, your Mommy,” the goddess corrected herself. 

Andromeda babbled some more.

“No, it isn’t the Orlesians, it’s the Qunari and an Ancient Elf,” she explained to the infant.

Andromeda looked at her mother and then at Andraste and babbled again.

“You understand her,” Elisabeta realized.

“Of course, I do,” Andraste responded.  “I speak baby.  She’s worried about you and says that your hand has been hurting you, but you’re trying to hide it from Daddy and the other people.”  She furrowed her eyebrows at Andromeda.  “Other people?”

Andromeda trilled at her and then began babbling again.

“Oh, Orlesians and other people who aren’t Mommy or Daddy,” Andromeda grinned.  “Do none of them have other identities.”

Andromeda babbled at her for several moments.

“Oh, there is Mage Fighter and Chantry Exploder, plus their funny friend, I see,” Andraste nodded.  “Very interesting.”

Andromeda then whimpered, causing Elisabeta to pull her close.

Elisabeta looked to the goddess.

“She’s worried about me and asked me to help you,” Andraste explained.  “I can’t just make the Qunari explode like she requested.  Where would be the self-determination in that?  I can take care of your other problem, though.”  She reached out and took Elisabeta’s hand.  Then she looked around.  “This shall do.”  She turned back to Andromeda.  “Do you mind?”

The baby babbled back to her.

“I’ll get you a new one, I promise,” the goddess vowed.  “Perhaps a stuffed animal, too.”

At that, Andromeda squealed and kicked her legs.

“Of course, little one.  Now let’s help your mommy.”  Andromeda grabbed the rattle and placed it in Elisabeta’s hand.  “This is going to hurt, but anything worth living for is worth hurting for.”

“I don’t know about…”  A sharp pain creased through Elisabeta’s hand and arm and she screamed.

Chapter Text

Alistair heard his wife’s screams and ran for their rooms.

“That was Lissa!”  Leliana ran up to his side, heading in the same direction.

Alistair was more than a little impressed that she could move so easily in her Divine robes.  “Yes, I know who it was.”  He surged forward and threw the doors to his room open.

Elisabeta lay on a blanket on the floor.  Andromeda was beside her.  She picked up her rattle and shook it.  A green light flashed from it and there was an explosion.

Alistair managed to dodge out of the way before the door flew off of its hinges and shattered against a far wall.

“We’re under attack!”  Leliana cried.

“It was just Andie!”  The last thing he needed was the Orlesians coming after his daughter.  “Andie, hand your rattle to daddy.  Yes, that’s a good girl.”  He gently took the toy turned weapon away from his daughter and carefully set it on a nearby trunk.  He noticed a stuffed dragon, a toy he’d never seen before.  It was sitting calmly on the trunk, poised as if she were watching over the room.  Alistair then he knelt by his wife and reached for her wrist.  He felt a strong pulse.

“Is everything alright?”  Despite the danger, Leliana had still rushed into the room.

“She seems fine.”  Alistair prayed that she was. 

“Alistair… her hand…”  Leliana began.

It was then that he realized he was holding Beta’s left wrist and the hand now held no mark, it was as clean as the first day he’d met here, there in Ostagar after he’d had an argument with a cranky mage.  He looked back at the rattle.  He’d figure out what happened later.  Right now, the woman he loved was his only concern.  “Beta?”  He kept his voice soft.

Elisabeta slowly opened her eyes and smiled up at her husband.  “This is a much better sight than The Maker’s Side.”

“You’d better not be going there anytime soon,” he held her close.

“What happened?”  She murmured.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “But your Mark is gone and Andie’s rattle has become a deadly weapon.”

Elisabeta up a hand to her head.  “Then it wasn’t a dream.  The anchor is in the rattle.  The Viddasala is never going to see this coming.”

Alistair gave a little laugh at that.

Elisabeta struggled to sit up.  “I need to go take care of that bitch.”

“Beta…”  He began.

“Sorry, you didn’t hear Mommy say that word, Andie,” Elisabeta instructed her daughter.  “Mommy has to go take care of that very bad woman who has a worse personality than a constipated wyvern.”

“You can rest a moment first,” Alistair insisted.  He wanted his wife here, by his side, Viddasala or not.  But he knew neither of them could just turn their backs on a world that needed them.

“I’ll rest when her head is on my mantle.”  Elisabeta leaned in and kissed him.  Then she slowly stood.  Grabbing the rattle, she carefully gripped it.  “I’m going to go bring Andraste’s wrath down on that head.  Then I’m putting this rattle someplace safe, until Andie’s old enough to wield it.”

She strolled out.  “After I visit Anders about this headache,” were her departing words.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta walked back to the Eluvian, with Anders and Solona behind her. 

“Tell me again what this Viddasala said about mages and our place in Thedas,” Anders urged.

“Anders, I appreciate you getting rid of my headache, don’t give me another one already, please,” Elisabeta begged.  She smiled as she saw her entire team waiting for her.  This included Hawke and Isabela.  “Don’t some of you need to stay?”

“While I’ve enjoyed being a thorn in the side of the Exalted Council, I feel that this Viddasala and her Dragon’s Breath deserves more of my attention,” Hawke answered.

“Determination, my sister will not have died for nothing.  She is a Southern Mage and no one talks about her like that.”  Cole was once again tuning into Hawke.

“Cole, we’ve talked about monologuing my sad life,” Hawke reminded him.

“Sorry, it’s just… this gives you cause and… you like doing what’s right, even if you insist on doing it sarcastically,” Cole proclaimed.  “The Inquisitor likes sarcasm, too.  Yet neither of you are as good at it as Varric.”

“That’s right, Kid,” Varric confirmed.  “But we don’t need to remind people of that.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sera claimed.  “Otherwise, Cole would know that my sarcasm is the sarcasmicist.”

Elizabeta wondered if sarcasm could kill the Viddasala.  “Hawke, I need you to stay here.  I wish I could have you at my side, but if I fail, I need someone who can defend my family from a horde of rampaging Qunari.”

“Then I’m keeping Anders and Solona,” he threatened.

“No, you aren’t,” Anders informed him.  “We’ll be the ones running out ahead of the horde to let you know you’re needed.  Until then, we fight.  You get to harass the Overly-Exalted Council of Self-Important People.  Don’t let them accomplish anything until we get back.”

“Oh, I can make sure nothing gets done,” Hawke assured him.  “I’ll have a team on alert incase things go tits up.”

“Thank you,” Elisabeta actually took comfort in there being a backup if she failed to take the Viddasala down.  At least, if snark could kill, her group was well armed.  She didn’t tell them that, though, as she stepped through the Eluvian.

Elizabeta and her team didn’t have to get far before they got to the Darvaarad.  She walked to it and gave it a once over.  “Here it is, the Darvaarad.  All right, everyone, get ready.  We don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side.”

“The Viddasala and her minions will be waiting for us,” Cole answered.

“Leliana told us about your little… pyrotechnic display during your little chat,” Dorian announced from behind Elisabeta.  His voice was full of concern.

“Leliana can’t always be right,” Sera objected.  “Tell us it’s poppycock… please.”  Her voice was begging.

“Enjoy me while you can,” Dorian pleaded.  “I mean… I’m sure you’ll miss me later.”

Elisabeta was a bit amused by her friend’s goodbye, but was worried about Sera’s fretting.  It was good to know she cared, but she didn’t want Sera off of her game.

“No matter what happens, I’m glad we’ve known each other,” Cassandra told all of them.  “Thank you, all of you.”

Her friends were telling her goodbye.  It was nice they cared.  It was nicer that Andraste did so as well.  “None of us are going to die,” she told them.  “I promise. We’re all too pretty to die. We will kick some Qunari ass, though.”

“But your hand…”  Cassandra objected.

“You don’t have to be brave for us,” Varric added.  “We’ll find a Qunari for you to punch and then you will talk with us.  We have Tiny here right now if you need to just punch him.”

“Hey,” The Iron Bull objected.

“No, it’s all right, really,” Elisabeta unhooked the rattle from her belt and held it up in her right hand and then held up her left as well.”

“Ah, you have one of Andie’s rattles for good luck, that will keep you alive… not!”  Sera’s voice sounded sweet at the beginning of her statement, but then bit at the end.

“Tempest, your hand… it doesn’t glow anymore,” Varric observed.

“That’s right,” Elisabeta told him.  “I have friends in high places, one of them being a goddess.  She… I don’t think she wants me to die either, so let’s go spread her word to the Qunari; and by her word, I mean an ass kicking from her as well.”

“That’s more like it!”  Sera pumped her fist in the air.  “Let’s go through the scary mirror and get those horny bastards!”

They stepped through.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta emerged from an Eluvian in a city she didn’t recognize.  Looking around, she suspected that she was in Par Vollen.  She’d have to find out if she was right, later on.  At the moment, she had other things to worry about.  “We need to move fast to stop this invasion plan.”  She ran forward, spying two guards, she pointed her sword at one and used it to channel the magic she still kept a secret, freezing him where he stood.

From behind her, Dorian set up fire mines and Solona Amell summoned a storm, letting the lightning hit at the other guard as she and Dorian chuckled.

“Now, they’ll be afraid of mages,” she told her fellow mage.

“They were before, Stormy,” Varric pointed out.  “That’s why they sewed their lips shut.”  He stopped and thought for a moment.  “Although, Southern Mages tend to use their hands to cast.  It makes me wonder if their mages once knew incantations that were just as deadly.”  He lifted Bianca and began shooting at Qunari guards.

Solona paused at those words.  “Now I want to know what those incantations were.”

“Me, too,” Anders agreed.

“Speaking of saarebas, I have one here!”  Elisabeta shouted at them.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Cassandra leapt on the Qunari mage’s back and drove her sword in.  Then she hit him over the head repeatedly with her shield and rode him to the ground.

The saarebas tried to struggle to its feet, but Sera had also jumped on it and was putting arrows into the back of its neck until it stilled.  “That was fun,” Sera decided.  “Where to next?”

Elisabeta pointed up the nearby walkway, even as she searched for any clues to what the heck Dragon’s Breath could be.  She found a small book.  The writing on the pages was completely incomprehensible to her, she suspected they would be to a native speaker of Qunlat; but she tried anyway.  “Bull, look at this.”

Bull took the book and then looked at her.  “I have no idea what this is saying, Boss.  I don’t think the writer was sober.”

Elisabeta looked at the book again.  The writing did, indeed, resemble the scratches of an inebriated chicken.  The drawings, however were meticulous.  They were an excruciatingly careful study of several Eluvians, along with exploded diagrams of their inner workings.  “Were they trying to use engineers to figure out how Eluvians work?”

“It’s possible,” Bull agreed.

“Only engineers would not realize there is a difference between math and magic,” she sighed. 

“Now, Boss…”  Bull began.

“No, she’s right,” Dorian patted his shoulder.  “Math may help the mage, but magic is so much more than that.  Magic is art, history, passion.  Numbers can’t help you comprehend that.”

“Will killing more Qunari help you feel better, Bull?”  Elisabeta suggested.  “Because, I’m going to go kill more Qunari and I could use your help.

“I’m coming, Boss,” Bull grinned.  “Mayhem!”  Mayhem made everything feel better.

They ran up the pathway.  Halfway up, the rattle started glowing green.

“What, what’s happening?”  Sera demanded to know.

Elisabeta glanced at the rattle.  “I think we should hurry,” before it exploded in her hand.  Thank Andraste, literally, that it was not her hand doing that.

They were a few feet from a set of stairs leading to the entrance of a large fortress, when a group of Qunari charged at them.

“Here they come!”  Elisabeta shouted to her group.  She waited until the Qunari got closer and then shook the rattle.

“What the…”  One of the guards was confused to the rattle.  Then an explosion burst from it and killed him and one of his companions, the rest were injured. 

Elisabeta noticed that the explosion had also ignited the charger on several barrels.  “Back!”  She was pretty sure it wasn’t wine in those barrels.

Sure enough, there was an explosion and three more Qunari went down.

“That’s right, we’re not playing with baby toys here!”  Varric shouted as he charged forward.

Elisabeta laughed as she followed him.

“Why are the Qunari calling this plan Dragon’s Breath?”  Cassandra wanted to know, as she followed.  “What do dragons have to do with assassinating heads of state?  I don’t understand any of this.”

“I understand that they want to kill the people in charge,” Anders answered.  “It would cause chaos… and the deaths of people I’m fond of.  That’s enough for me to know.”  He slowed.  “Solona…”  He pointed at another barrel.

“I’m on it.”  She sent a lightning bolt and the barrel exploded, killing more Qunari guards. 

As Elisabeta moved, she noticed a nearby tower.  The door was locked.  She laughed.  While Leliana was better at locking picks than she was, she was better than Sera or Varric, much to their dismay. Both were still better than Zevran, something she’d told them on more than one occasion.  “Cover my back,” she ordered Varric and then opened the door.  It had taken her a couple of minutes.

There was a rather surprised looking Qunari in the room.  He was even more surprised when she crossed her swords over his neck and caused his head to go flying.  “Let’s move.”

She took Varric and Cassandra into the tower with her, leaving the others to take on the guards from the other direction.

They moved through the tower and caught the guards in a pincer move, finishing them off that much faster.

“That was fun,” Sera commented.  “What now?”

“We killed them, now we take their stuff,” Elisabeta told her. 

They looted.

As Elisabeta’s team looted, they found several silver pieces, one of Varric’s books that had obviously been smuggled by the guard, floss, and a key.

“I would presume that this key fits that door,” Cassandra gestured to a building that looked like some sort of elaborate cage.

“That just robs us of the chance to pick the lock,” Varric pouted.  “It’s like someone telling you how a book ends.  It ruins all of the fun.”

“It does,” Elisabeta opened the door.  “It is a bit disappointing.  But look…!”  She gestured to the large door in front of them and then to three wheels in front of her.  “They left us a puzzle to rub salt in our wounds.  I hate puzzles.”

“You have to move the wheels, which will move those large bars holding the door shut to open it,” Bull explained.

“Really?”  Sarcasm dripped from Elisabeta’s voice.  “How bored are the Qunari?”

“We all have duties,” Bull began.

“And some are boring,” Sera finished for him. 

“Let me do this one,” Cassandra stepped forward and started moving the wheels.  “This one looks fun.”  She glanced over at Bull as she worked.  “We should go find a dragon to slay when this is done.”

“I do miss the dragon fights,” Bull agreed.  “You’ll come, Kadan, won’t you?”  He fluttered his eyelashes at Dorian.

The mage laughed at the sight.  “I…”  He shook his head.  “I’m sorry, I have duties as a Magister now.  I have to find out who killed my father and kill them back, remember?”

“When you’re done, we’ll have to sneak somewhere further south and have a celebratory drink,” Bull leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.”

“Yes,” Dorian agreed.  “We’ll stay in a nice chalet on a lake or by a sea.”

“What about you, Varric?”  Cassandra looked over at him.

“I think Sparkler and Tiny want to be in that chalet alone, Seeker,” Varric assured her.

“No, will you come fight a dragon with me,” Cassandra clarified.  “I miss yo… I miss…”  The door clanked and swung open, keeping her from having to finish her confession.

“I miss you, too, Seeker,” Varric assured her.  “I’ll come.  It will be a nice break and… I’d like to spend more time with you, too.”

“A dragon hunt then,” Elisabeta nodded.  “Then I’ll host all of you at a victory party in Denerim.  We’ll rub our prowess in the Orlesians’ faces.  For now, let’s go and see what the Qunari are up to.”

They rushed through the door.

“Do you need help killing your father’s killers?”  Anders asked Dorian as they rushed in. 

“I could use yours and Solona’s,” Dorian admitted.  “Who knows, you might get to blow up another building.”

Chapter Text

Qunari banners hung in the hall that Elisabeta entered.  A pair of torches stood sentry at the door at the end.  She gripped the rattle as she got closer.  It was a good thing that she did, for there were two doors on either side of a shadowed hallway set near her goal.

A Qunari charged.  Elisabeta cartwheeled over him, striking out with both swords to take his head.

Corian quickly set fire mines at both doors their party didn’t intend to take.

“What was that, Tempest?”  Varric questioned, as Elisabeta opened the door and charged through.

“What was what?”  She asked innocently.

“The acrobatics.”  Varric hit a gaatlock fuse, causing it to explode.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Elisabeta swore right before she blended into the shadows.  She then moved into the middle of a group of her foe and shook the rattle.

“Did you hear th…”  One of them began to ask, right before the green light exploded around them and they were ripped into pieces.

Elisabeta reappeared and looked at the rattle.  “This is fun.”

“Do it again!”  Sera urged, right before she flipped over a balcony railing, sending three arrows at once.  Each one hit their mark.

Then something caught Elisabeta’s eye.  “Oh, look, a book.”  She moved to the book and a Qunari soldier charged at her from her right.  “I’m busy!”  She shouted, right before she shot ice from Excalibur.  She followed up the move with a quick chop that shattered her enemy.

Cassandra hit another Qun with her shield and then stabbed him.  “Did he just try and interrupt your reading?  I know you hate that.”

“It’s so uncivilized,” Elisabeta agreed.  “Only those who do not understand the joys of reading would do something like that.”  She grabbed the book and found a note inside.  It was some sort of written instructions.  While some of it was written in Qunlat, which Elisabeta had no chance of being able to read, the rest was in Common.  The letters were blocky, but easily legible.

The Dragon’s Breath must continue regardless of the concerns at the Winter Palace.  Many are new to the Qun and have not yet learned to trust.  Your worry is understandable.  The rest of the world has betrayed you.

All who have been to the Darvaarad know the difficulty of maintaining the specimen for extraction for as long as we have.  If we delayed Dragon’s Breath, we would have to dispose of the specimen.  Creating gaatlock is normally a slow process requiring much mining and careful alchemy.  Venom extraction offers the only means to deliver the Dragon’s Breath quickly and in large quantities.  To delay Dragon’s Breath is to lose any chance of bringing peace to the South without needless suffering.  The Qun demands we save the Workers of the South from a bloody war and deliver them into our teaching before corruption overtakes the land.

Others have voice concern over the…

Before Elisabeta could finish reading, another Qunari attacked her.  “I wasn’t done!”  She ran him through and then decapitated him for good measure.

“What did it say?”  Cassandra wanted to know.

“Here,” Elisabeta thrust the paper at her.  “I got the gist.  I don’t know what this creature is, but it’s obviously in danger and being abused.  They plan to kill it…”  She launched herself at another Qunari, punishing him for what she was about to say next.  She cut him several times before giving a final killing blow.  “They also obviously plan to kill my family… and yours.  They just want to preserve the Workers.”

“That means those they can control, those of low rank and low will that is.”  Varric explained to any of their companions that didn’t already understand the meaning. 

“It means we’re stopping them,” Sera declared.  “Even the workers deserve free will.”

“You’ve got that right,” Dorian agreed.

They continued deeper into the Darvaarad.

They encountered a few more Qunari who were quickly dispatched.

As they crossed a walkway overlooking nearby mountains, the rattle Elisabeta held began to vibrate.  “I’m glad the Mark isn’t on my hand anymore,” she commented.  “That would have hurt, whatever it’s doing.”

“Maker bless Andraste,” Sera remarked.  “It was her, wasn’t it, who removed the Mark?”

“It was,” Elisabeta confirmed.  She came to a fork in the hallways.  One had several cages lined against it.  The other led to an office.  She chose the office.

“For a people that hates and fears magic, they keep a lot of magical items lying about.” Dorian observed as he looked around.

“I agree,” Elisabeta also scanned the room.  Her eyes fell on a desk and she went to it.  A letter was laid on it.  That letter had an Inquisition seal.

To the Honorable Salasari, Triumvirate of the Qun

The handwriting looked familiar.  It was that of Ambassador Montilyet.  Elisabeta wondered when had Josie found time to write angry letters.  She continued reading.

On behalf of the Inquisition, I must humbly inquire as to the hostile actions of your agents in Halamshiral.  We can only view the attacks by Ben-Hassrath agents upon our officers and the infiltration and sabotage of the Exalted Council at Halamshiral as the prelude to a declaration of war. If the Qunari people do not wish to provoke retaliation from the Chantry, these hostilities must cease at once.  The Inquisitor has made it clear to the Qunari that their presence in the South is viewed as an act of hostility.  Furthermore, I would like to remind you of the friendship that she and the Arishok once enjoyed.  These actions undoubtedly put that friendship into Jeopardy.

Respectfully,

Ambassador Josephine Montilyet

There were several incomprehensible messages in Qunlat follow. A letter in common with elegant script has been torn open and crumpled into a ball, but the writing was still legible:

To Ambassador Josephine Montilyet of the Inquisition,

The Triumvirate of the Qunari people wishes to assure you that despite the loss of the dreadnought Berethlok and its crew of one hundred souls in a failed joint mission with the Inquisition two years past, military action has not been approved against the Inquisition.  This is also despite the arrests made against members of the Ben-Hassrath on that day and the purge of agents that your Inquisitor led, in the name of her other duties.  Indeed, the Arishok seemed secretly pleased with her ruthlessness and said she may be whom she claims.  He secretly sent an artist to Skyhold to verify her identity.  No one in Par Vollen has authorized actions of any kind involving the Exalted Council. Nor will they.

We are seeking out the Ben-Hassrath priest who appears to be leading this operation without our consent. Once she is located, we assure you that these hostile actions will cease.

“I don’t believe him.”  Elisabeta showed the letter to the others.

Cassandra read the letter.  “I believe they snuck someone into Skyhold to confirm you are Elisabeta Cousland.”

“That I believe,” Elisabeta conceded.  “I’ll have a word with Leliana about this artist getting into Skyhold.  I don’t believe that this Salasari didn’t know about his supposed Ben-Hassrath priest acting without consent.  They know where she is and what she’s been up to.”

“They knew what she was up to, but not exactly where she is,” Bull disagreed.  “They told her not to report her location, so they have plausible deniability.”

Elisabeta grunted in response.  She then moved to another desk, one with a dragon’s skull on it.  She found a note there.  Unfortunately, it seemed to be written entirely in Qunlat.  I did, however, contain a number of complicated diagrams, including detailed blueprints of Halamshiral, Highever Castle, and the Denerim Palace among others.  She wanted to know how the Qun got those.  She realized that they were planning to hide Eluvians in their targets and needed a place to hide them.  She continued going through the desk and didn’t like what she found.  “They’re trying to unlock Eluvians and set up a network,” she told the others.  “Morrigan said the key to unlocking them could be anything, including objects or just knowledge.  They’re stockpiling everything they can find.  That’s how they got the key that unlocked so many of them.” 

The team took everything they could from the office, putting them in their packs.  Then they moved to the hallway on the other side of the fork.

“They will already have defenses in place,” Cassandra warned.  “We must not stumble into anything blindly.”

“I never stumble in blindly,” Elisabeta objected. “I often jump without looking first, but I never stumble in. Stumbling is unladylike.”

“And one of the reasons we love you,” Sera told her.  “But stumbling can be fun too.”

Cassandra stopped as they passed a prison cage.  “Is that a copy of Swords and Shields?”

Varric stepped beside her.  “Yes, it is.  Perhaps we can bribe the Viddasala’s people to turn on her by promising them sneak peaks of the next book.”

“There are sneak peeks?”  Cassandra’s face lighted, then darkened.  “And you haven’t given me any?”

“I’ll give you the first copy I get out, Seeker,” Varric promised her.  “Once we finish with the Qun, I’ll give you the sneak peeks over glasses of wine.  How does that sound?”

“Wonderful,” she told him.  “I look forward to it.

Elisabeta picked the lock of the door.  She grabbed the book and handed it to Cassandra.  Then she noticed and box full of healing potions.  She held it up.  “Everyone take as many as you need.  Mysterious boxes of potions usually mean we’ll need them soon.  Why else would someone hide them here?”

The others took as many bottles as they could and they moved on.

Elisabeta found herself standing in front of a large door.  “Does this feel like a trap to anyone else?”

“It’s a trap,” Dorian agreed, taking his staff in hand with a flourish.  “Let’s spring it.”

Chapter Text

The door led further into the fortress.  They emerged into a large room; another door was open showing a dragon!  The poor thing was trapped.  There was also at least a dozen Qunari in the room, waiting for them.

Elisabeta pulled out the rattle and tensed, even as she took in the trapped high dragon.  “Dragon’s Breath is… an actual dragon?”  She should have known not to expect the Qun to have an original thought.

Was the of the Qunari spied her and started shouting in Qunlat.  “The A! Bas!”  

He was obviously shouting for the Viddasala, because she walked into the room.  “Inquisition!”  She shouted.  Then she began pointing at them and shouting in Qunlat.  “Nehraa Ataashi-Asaara merevas adim kata!”

Elisabeta believed that ataashi meant dragons, but that’s all she understood.  She tried listening to the voices trapped in Excalibur, but her sword was as clueless as she was.  “The name is Elisabeta, remember it, because I’m sending you to my Maker.  Give him my regards.”  Elisabeta held Excalibur in her right hand and the rattle in her left.

A Saarebas approached her.  The Viddasala was shouting orders at it, as it slowly marched up nearby steps.  Two warriors were behind it.

Then the Viddasala turned to the Iron Bull.  “Hissrad, we need you!  Now.  Please.”  She held out an arm and gestured.  “Vinek.  Kathas.”

Elisabeta wasn’t sure what she was saying, but she was pretty sure that the Viddasala had just ordered the Iron Bull to attack her.”

“Not a chance,” The Iron Bull’s voice was firm, full of convention.  Then he added, “ma’am.”

That last part disappointed Elisabeta more than a little.  “Don’t call her, ma’am.  She’s heinous bitch to you.”

“That’s… harsh,” The Iron Bull disagreed.  “She’s still…”

“A heinous bitch,” Sera finished for him.

Elisabeta faded into the shadow, tracking the Saarebas.

Cassandra charged one of the warriors.  She leaped into the air and hit him with her shield and then sinking her sword in him again and again before she landed on her feet.

Solona summoned a storm and chortled as the lightning hit several of the warriors at once.  The move flushed out the saarebas. 

As the Qunari Mage moved towards Solona, Elisabeta emerged from the shadows behind it and slid Excalibur through its shields.  Then she shot a blast of ice through the sword before sinking it in the creature’s flesh.  The saarebas howled and leapt into the air.  Elisabeta hung on.  She wrapped her legs around the saarebas’ waist and crossed her long swords over its neck.  The body hit the ground and the head flew through the air.

As Elisabeta got to her feet, she realized her team had taken care of the rest of the warriors.

“Seriously, though, Bull,” Sera was still at his side.  “Are you good?  I mean, I can see how what’s-her-name could get in someone’s head.”

“Amatus?”  Dorian laid a hand on his arm.

The Iron Bull leaned forward and kissed his love gently.  “I’m here with you, Kadan.  Then he looked at the others.  “The Iron Bull is just fine.  When this is over, drinks are on me.  Probably a lot of them.  Are you ready to finish this, Lissa?”

“Oh, yes,” Elisabeta assured him.

“Let’s go kick the Viddasala’s ass for trying to mess with my Amaratus,” Dorian declared.

“Damned right,” the Iron Bull agreed.

“I’ll kick it for that, after I’ve kicked it for messing with my family and friends,” Elisabeta promised as they exited the room.

Chapter Text

As they stepped out onto a catwalk, Elisabet noticed a note placed on one of the scaffolds.  Most of it was in Qunlat, but part of it was translated for the Viddathari workers.

For primers, combine no more than one-part Ataashi venom with an equal amount of deathroot auxin and three parts powdered silverite.  Adding more venom will dissolve the casing on the primers here in the factor and fill the room with deadly gas.  Whoever keeps getting the formula wrong needs to see me immediately!  We have a great many primers to make on a tight schedule and cannot afford any more delays due to mistakes!

That was interesting.  “They’re using the dragon’s venom,” she informed her team.

“Then we slay the dragon,” The Iron Bull reasoned.

“It’s a prisoner of the horny bitch,” Sera argued.  “We rescue it!  No one deserves to die trapped by her.”

“We have to do something,” Cassandra argued with both of them.  “Let’s get in there and assess the situation.”

“Agreed,” Elisabeta went to open the far door, only to have it open on its own and Qunari to begin to rush in.  “Eat rattle, bastards!”  She lifted the rattle and shook it.  A green light shot out and the Qunari flew back.  Those who’d been in the front didn’t get up again.

The few at the back that survived the blast were filled with arrows and bolts from Sera and Varric. 

A single, lone Qunari started to still sit up, only for the arrow Sera put into him to explode, ending his life.

Elisabeta ran at the door, running on top of the bodies.  She noticed a book at the end of the stairs.

It was a log book of some type.  The first half appeared to be notes on the care and feeding of animals a Free Marcher’s lord’s manor.  After that, it shifted to Qunlat.  She wondered if it had belonged to an elven servant or if it had been stolen.  Later, the Qunlat switched to common.

Beast presents chafing around the limbs and tail, likely from attempts to use chains.  While its natural strength remains, muscles are slack from confinement.  Taardathras said she initially tried drugging the beast, but the amount required to keep it sedated changed the…”

Elisabeta stopped reading as a roar reverberated across the ground.  The dragon was in pain.

She noticed yet another box of healing potions near the book.  “How often do these Qunari get hurt?”  She wondered.  She looked at Bull.  “Is it normal to need so many healing potions when one works with the Qun?  Where do you guys even get the potions?  I didn’t think saarebas made them.”

“They don’t,” The Iron Bull assured her.  “I would guess that working so close to the dragon is causing the people here to get hurt a lot.  They’re probably stealing the potions form the south.”

“Alistair and I need to have a long talk with the Bannorn about security,” Elisabeta decided.  “They had better not be getting these from Ferelden.”

“Let’s get to that dragon,” Cassandra insisted as she heard it cry again.

When Elisabeta found the Venom Extraction Chamber, at least that’s what Bull called it, she discovered a dragon trapped in the middle by a ring of burning torches.  If the dragon tried to escape, the torches would burn her.

“The Qunari obviously need the dragon’s venom,” Dorian observed.  “No dragon, then no venom.”

“Her captives have already caused her enough pain,” there was strong emotion in Cassandra’s voice.  “There’s no need to be cruel to her.”

“Let’s figure out how to move those rings,” Elisabeta decided.  “Sera and Dorian, keep the Qunari busy.  Cassandra and Varric, figure out this puzzle.  Maker, I hate puzzles.”  Then she ran out into the middle of the room.  “Hey, horn heads, look at me!”

The Qunari turned to her and attacked. 

Elisabeta shook the rattle and an explosion rocked the room.  She flinched when the dragon got hit as well.  The creature still stood, though.  She watched it hop back as the rings around it moved.  Good, Cassandra and Varric were quickly figuring things out.

“Tempest!”  Varric called to her.  “That cart is in our way!”  He gestured to a cart on the far side of the room.”

Elisabeta nodded and then shook the rattle at it.  The thing exploded and the rings moved again.

“Your mother was a hamster!”  Sera called out to one of the Qunari, even as she shot his companion.  “And your father smelled of elderberries!”

Elisabeta gave a little chuckle.  She hated elderberry wine.  Only drunks drank that swill.

“Sera, you know these savages don’t even know whom their mothers were,” Dorian reminded her as he sent a lash of flame out at one of their opponents.

“I’m telling them now,” Sera pointed out.  “They were hamsters!”

Elisabeta sliced the head off of yet another Qunari, even as she saw two of the circles around the dragon line up and move together.  “Come on, guys.  Hurry!  The dragon is getting caught in the crossfire!”

“We’re moving as fast as we can, Tempest!”  Varric assured her.  The rings moved again.  “There’s another cart in our way.”

Elisabeta lifted the rattle yet again and blew the cart.  Then she jumped the stair railing to rush at the new group of Qunari who were rushing through the door.

The third ring of flames moved.  Then there was a click.

“Yes!”  Cassandra shouted.

Elisabeta sliced through the oncoming Qunari like a farmer with a field of wheat.

“Hey, we’re on your side!”  Varric informed Ataashi, the dragon when she spit acid at him.

“Cole, can you talk to the dragon?”  Elisabeta turned to the spirit.

“No, I can’t,” Cole informed her.  “Should I be able to?”

“Yes,” Elisabeta growled as she felled another Qunari.  “If that dragon dies before we can save her, I’ll never forgive her.”

Sera continued to pick off the Qunari one by one.

“I’m still shocked that you never run out of arrows, Sera,” Dorian commented, even as he set fire mines under the Qunari coming in.

At some point, the Viddasala had come in, Elisabeta could hear her.

“If that bitch ruins my perfect pitch, I’m going to be pissed,” Sera declared.  She shot an arrow at the Viddasala, but one of her minions jumped in front of her and took the arrow, instead.

Elisabeta used her ring of doubt to slip out from the middle of the pact of Qunari and then blended into the shadows to make sure they were unable to find her until she was ready to strike.  That’s when she noticed the closed gate near Ataashi.  She ran to the gate and flipped the levers, opening it.  Now she just needed her team to hurry.

She then moved into the middle of the largest pack of Qunari and performed a whirlwind move, blades flashing.  The soldiers never knew what hit, or sliced through, them.

“Is this what you call honor, Inquisitor?  Attacking an innocent creature?”  The Viddasala taunted.

Oh, no, she had not!  Elisabeta narrowed her eyes and blended into the shadows again.  With the Ring of Doubt on her finger, the Qunari she had been fighting forgot she was there.  One even accidentally killed one of his companions.

“You’re the one who hurt the dragon, Vidabitch!”  Sera shot another arrow at her.  Yet another soldier got in the way.  “Stop having your men die for you and take an arrow like a good evil bitch, evil bitch!”

Then there was another click and the dragon stopped trying to fight them.

“She’s free!”  Cassandra shouted.  “She’s leaving!”

First Ataashi turned to the Qunari who had imprisoned her.  Those closest turned and ran.  They weren’t fast enough.  She stepped on one and then grabbed the other, throwing him in the air.  A third she snatched with her talons as she took off, dropping him to the ground with a satisfying splat when she was far enough up.

Elisabeta followed through the gate.  She would fight through every last one of the Viddasala’s men to kill the bitch.

Chapter Text

“Surely, this Council must recognize that the Inquisition does not show it the respect it deserves!”  Teagan shouted from the table at the head of the Exalted Council.  He gestured to the Inquisition’s table set not far from him.

Behind the table sat Princess Andromeda of Ferelden and Bran Rutherford.  The pair just looked at him for a moment.

Then Andromeda kicked her legs and babbled at him.  She even shook a fist.  She glanced at the stuffed dragon beside her.  Then she looked over at Bran.

“You’re a meanie,” Bran declared, as if interpreting Andromeda’s words.

Teagan was taken aback for a moment.   “This cannot be serious.”

“The princess does seem serious,” Leliana assured him.  “I’m just not sure if she is sitting up on her own for long periods.  Shouldn’t someone be holding her?  Where’s Adrianna?”

“We’re here,” Alistair hurried in, with Adrianna Trevelyan-Rutherford.  “We were talking to a blacksmith.”  He scooped Andromeda up in his arms and handed her a rattle.  “I was getting Andie a new rattle.  Her last one… well, I ordered others just in case.”

“What happened to her last rattle?”  The Orlesian Ambassador wanted to know.

“Andraste repurposed it,” Alistair informed him.  He sat down behind the Inquisition table, with Andromeda on his lap.”

“Andraste…”  The ambassador began.

“She visited Beta last night,” Alistair’s voice filled with pride.  “It seems that this council has forgotten that she is Andraste’s Herald, her Chosen.”  He looked at the Divine.  “Does Andraste pay you visits, Leliana?”

“You will address her as Divine Victoria,” Teagan insisted.

Andromeda babbled at him and the zerbeted. 

“I don’t think your princess likes you,” Ambassador De Montfort told Teagan.

“She’s a Cousland,” Teagan grumbled.

“And a Theirin,” Alistair kissed the top of her head.

“Oh, are we still having a meeting?” Hawke walked in.  “I’ll have to tell Zevran to untie Josie then.  He’ll be so disappointed.  He was having such fun, so was she.”

“I believe they were playing Antivan Crowe and Antivan Noble,” Isabela added.  “Zevran was the noble who caught the crow sneaking in to assassinate him.  At least, that’s what I overheard of their plans.”

“It does sound enjoyable,” Hawke decided.  “We should try it.”

“Please, stop,” Leliana pleaded.  “My eye’s twitching.”

“I thought we were going to play Mermaid and Randy Pirate,” Isabela pouted.  “The mermaid was going to eat…”

“Not in front of the children,” Alistair cut her off.  “Please.”

“Very well,” Isabela sat down.

“So, whose running this circus today?”  Hawke wanted to know.

Andromeda babbled at him and Bran stood on the table.

“This will not stop this Council from reaching a decision,” Teagan insisted.  “Whatever the Inquisition is playing at will not work.”

“You tell off that infant and toddler!”  Hawke shouted to him.

“Now, we know why we’re here,” Teagan began.

Andromeda lifted the bladder of milk her father had also brought her and drank while Teagan droned on, half appearing as if she were paying attention to the ambassador.

Chapter Text

Alas, some people are over predictable.  This was the case with the Viddasala when Elisabeta caught up to her.  The woman was fleeing and there were dozens of warriors between them.

Elisabeta noticed the Eluvian the Viddasala was running to.  “Stop and face me, you bitch!”

The Viddasala had been urging her men through the mirror, but stopped to narrow her eyes at Elisabeta.  Then she turned around as if dismissing her.

Elisabeta began to take a step forward and then noticed the rattle glowing dangerously.  She put her left hand over it.

The Viddasala turned around and gave her a condescending look.  “Dear Inquisitor, you have such little time left.”

Little time left?  Elisabeta realized that the Viddasala thought she still carried the Anchor in her left hand.  She would let her continue to think that.  “Oh, yes, woe is me.  My hand will kill me and I’ll be dead.  It is the greatest tragedy of my life since the last time I died.  Please, Maker, have mercy on your most devout servant.  Spare me, for I am not like these heathen Qunari who deny Your name and Your great deeds.  I shall return to Your side soon.  Save a place for me, although, I don’t want to leave my gorgeous husband and his brilliant jokes or my beautiful daughter whose purity these heathens will never appreciate!”  She fell to her knees for a moment.  “Woe is me!  I’m going to be killed by Andraste’s gift!”

“Don’t overdo it,” Cassandra hissed at her.

“You must finally see the truth.”  Rather than see through Elisabeta’ s charade, the Viddasala became even more smug.  “Elven magic already tore the sky apart.  If the agents of Fen’Harel are not stopped, you will shatter the world as well.”

Elisabeta got back to her feet.  “I’m not an Agent of Fen’Harel, you psychopathic zealot.  Even if I were, which I’m not, mass assassination means you will never have the moral high ground.”

“That’s right, we have the high ground, bitch!”  Sera yelled from behind her.

“The South was poisoned by these elves’ manipulation,” The Viddasala sneered.  “It suffers as you do now.  You would have died from the mark on your hand, but for the help of one of their chief agents.  The same agent who helped seal the breach, who led you to Skyhold, who gave Corypheus the orb, then founded the Inquisition.”  She paused for dramatic effect, something very un Qunn-like.  “Solas, agent of Fen’Harel.”

Cassandra’s shoulders jerked back, as if someone had put a blade between her shoulder blades.  That someone being Solas.  “What?”

“Solas, is an Agent of Fen’Harel?”  That took Elisabeta by surprise.  “I haven’t seen him in years.  Wait… the Orb?”  Solas gave Corypheus the Orb?  “What proof do you have that he gave Corypheus the Orb?  Am I supposed to take the word of a zealous Qunari who would attempt to wipe out families whose only crime is to disagree with them?  It’s not like those families were sacrificing puppies.”

“You did not know?  We thought you were his ally.”  The Viddasala seemed to hesitate for a moment, but only for a moment.  “Solas tricked us all.  He pushed a dying Qunari into the Winter Palace, to lure you into opposing us.  Without him we could have brought the South peace and wisdom, along The Gentle Path.  Now we must take the Way of the Blade.”

The rattle that Elisabeta still held began to glow.  She wondered if it was reflecting her anger or just building up power.  The Anchor was still growing out of control.  “The Gentle Path?  Peace and Wisdom?  Do you believe any of the crap you are spewing?”

“I know I don’t,” Varric commented behind her.

“Did Solas do us a favor, pushing out that soldier?”  Sera questioned.  “We would have been blown up otherwise.”

“Along with my family,” Elisabeta said between gritted teeth.

“We will still bring them to their knees, Inquisitor,” The Viddasala swore.  “If it’s any consolation, Solas will be brought down to his knees.”

Elisabeta lifted the rattle and shot out a blast.  It killed the Qunari guards, but the Viddasala had already disappeared with a large saarebas. 

“Come back here so we can kill you, you self sencstuous bitch!”  Sera yelled after her.

Elisabeta turned to her companions, although she paused to wonder if sencstuous was a person who was both sensuous and sanctuous.  Although, she would not define the Viddasala as something incorruptible or unspoiled.  “The Viddasala isn’t going to kill Solas, I am; right after I kill her.”

“Let’s kill him first,” Cassandra growled.

“He helped us, Seeker,” Varric reminded her.

“He gave Corypheus the orb,” Cassandra reminded him.  “That would be the orb he used to kill Divine Justinia.”

“We kill them both,” Sera insisted.  “Whichever one we catch first gets dead first.”

“Agreed,” Dorian declared.

“I know Chuckles made some mistakes…”  Varric began.

“He gave the orb to Corypheus,” Bull reminded him.  “He’s the reason Hawke ended up in the Fade.  What if Justice and Andraste hadn’t helped and he’d remained trapped there?”

“Good point,” Varric conceded.  “Let’s just get to him and the Viddasala.”

They went through the Eluvian.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta wasn’t sure where she was, but it was pretty.  Vines crept around ruins that now stood in the middle of a forest.  The sun shown on exposed steps and birds sang.

“The Viddasala could not have gotten far,” Cassandra declared from beside her.

The Viddasala was nowhere to be seen, she hadn’t even messed up the foliage.  Elisabeta forged ahead.  In the distance, shaped began to emerge.

“There!”  Sera shouted.  “On them!”  She loosed a trio of arrows.  Each hit their mark and the Qunari began running away.

The rattle that Elisabeta had in her belt began to glow green again.  She could feel it vibrating.  Thank Andraste that it wasn’t her hand.  She grabbed it.  “Everyone back!”  She shook it and rays shot out around her.

“It appears you will have to use that thing regularly,” Dorian remarked.  “We should not chance it exploding.

“Whatever you do, don’t give it back to Princess,” Varric advised.

As they continued on, Elisabeta found herself having to regularly shake the rattle.  Under one arch, they found a basket of healing potions.

“I wonder why the Viddasala didn’t take these,” Varric mused as he grabbed some.

“Perhaps the Qunari do not like to show weakness by using such plebian means of healing,” Dorian mused.

“It has more to do with the belief that it is still somehow associated with magic,” Bull confided.

“They’re herbs,” Sera scoffed.  “Any skilled apothecary can make them.”

“Your esteemed Arishok has drank them,” Elisabeta informed him.  “I’m with Dorian, Qunari don’t like showing weakness, including needing healing potions.”

“That’s to our advantage,” Varric chuckled.

 Not long after, they found themselves on a narrow walkway.  An Eluvian was off to their left side, with a Qunari guarding it.

“Nice of them to make it obvious which way we needed to go,” Varric commented as they turned and easily killed the guard.

A second guard came through the Eluvian.

“It is quite obvious,” Dorian agreed, even as he raised a wisp out of the first guard and attacked the second Qunari with it.

Then they went through the Eluvian.

Elisabeta saw herself in another beautiful, green field.  A dragon flew high in the sky.  She could already see another Eluvian on the other side of the field.

There was also an ancient statue of Fen’Harel.  She suspected the ruins and fields had held significance to the ancient elves and was upset that her team didn’t have time to look around.

“The big thing,” Sera pointed to a large saarebas.  “He’s always with the leader woman.”

Elisabeta realized that she was right.  That same saarebas had been at the Viddasala’s side each time she’d come face to face with the uber bitch.  She ran to where they were, treading across beautiful greenery and the edge of a pond.

She heard the Viddasala shouting commands, but the word ‘saarebas’ was all she could understand.  She was halfway to the Viddasala, when a warrior got in her way.  He lifted his javelin, to throw it at her, but a lightning cage sprung up around him.  “Thanks!”  Elisabeta shouted as she continued to run.

Two more warriors came at her.  Elisabeta lifted the rattle and shook it, green energy burst at them.  She then ran the survivor through.  She then saw an assassin, or some such, crouching nearby.  She laughed before blending in the shadows.  She came up behind the assassin and stabbed them through the back.  She could hear the sigh that let her know she’d hit a lung.

There was a pair of soldiers waiting on the small hill where the Eluvian sat.  Even as she ran at them, they fell; filled with arrows and bolts.  At the top of the hill was an additional trio guarding the mirror, but a shake of the rattle easily disposed of them.

“She’s not going to get away that easily,” Elisabeta swore as she jumped into the mirror.

The next location was the ruins of a bridge that led to some sort of castle.  There was also an Eluvian at the end of the bridge, before the castle.  At least a dozen Qunari stood between her and the mirror.

Cassandra posed, shield out.  “Let’s show these heathens the power of Andraste’s Chosen.”

They charged forward.  There were screams and cries, from once tough Qunari as their bodies were tossed off the bridge.  Most of the screams came before they died and then their bodies fell. 

Right before the Eluvian, there was another basket full of healing potions.

“I guess those warriors didn’t realize how much they needed these,” Varric chuckled as he put several of them in his bag.

They stepped through another mirror.

Elisabeta emerged into some sort of shrine.  It was in the center of yet another ruin.  This one had a statue of Fen’Harel, as well as a wolf howling at the moon.  It, too, could represent Fen’Harel.

“The Viddasala claims that Solas is an agent of Fen’Harel, and she obviously hates Fen’Harel…” Cassandra began.

“If he was ever real,” Sera interjected.

“We know Mythal was,” The Iron Bull reminded her.

“Yes, as I was saying,” Cassandra didn’t appreciate the interruptions.  “For someone who dislikes him, and those associated with him, so much, she’s picking some interesting locations.  Were these places her choice or Solas’… or Fen’Harel’s.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if Solas and Fen’Harel are the same person,” Elisabeta confided.  “I knew Flemeth was a powerful Witch of the Wilds when I first met her, but I had no idea that she was Mythal.”

“The lack of pointy ears would have made her seem innocent,” Dorian agreed.

Elisabeta nodded to him, even as she ran forward.  She jumped into the courtyard.  She could hear the Viddasala shouting orders, but she had no idea what the crazy woman was saying.  A blast shot her back, Elisabeta rolled with it, doing a back summersault, and came back up on her feet.

“Here he comes!”  Sera warned.

The Viddasala’s pet Saarebas leapt at them.

Elisabeta grabbed her rattle and shook it at him.  Green light flew out, and threw the Saarebas back. 

Dorian quickly planted a fire mine, so the Seabass landed on it.  The creature jumped into the air.

Elisabeta shook the rattle again, hitting him as she landed.  Then she blended into the shadows, maneuvering behind him.  As she flanked him, she swore she heard the elven voices in Excalibur singing.  She wasn’t sure if they were enjoying the battle, or chanting.

The Saarebas growled and jumped into the air again.  As he retreated, Qunari soldiers moved in.

“Coward!”  Sera shouted at the Qunari Mage, before she filled one of the soldiers with arrows.

“Let’s just get through these guys and get to the Vidda-Bitch,” Elisabeta told her.  She shook the rattle at a group of approaching soldiers.  They flew back. 

All but one was dead when they landed.  When that one stood, he was filled with bolts from Bianca.

Cassandra’s weapons began to glow as she jumped up on a platform and began killing warrior after warrior who challenged her.  “You shall not challenge the Faithful again!”  She swore as the fell dead at her feet.

            One soldier tried to sneak behind Cassandra, only to be filled with bolts.  “Don’t touch my Seeker,” Varric snarled.

            Cassandra turned and gave him a sweet smile, which Varric returned.

            The Saarebas then returned with another attack.

            Elisabeta again shook the rattle at him, causing green light to explode from it, throwing him back. 

            When he landed, Sera shot a trio of arrows into him before falling back into the shadows. 

            Then the Iron Bull moved in.  He jumped, slashing at the creature with a dragon bone claymore.  When he landed, the saarebas turned to face him.

            That was when Dorian lifted a trio of wisps from the dead Qunari soldiers and sent them after the saarebas.

            The creature growled and there was the sound of metal snapping.

            “It looks like the saarebas is no longer taking orders,” Dorian observed.

            The Viddasala yelled at the saarebas and it quickly returned to her side.  It might not be taking orders anymore, but it was obvious where its loyalties laid.

            “You will not leave here, Inquisitor,” the Viddasala declared.

            “The name is Elisabeta, Vidda-bitch,” Elisabeta corrected her.  “My parents loved me enough to give me a name.”

            The Viddasala’s response was rather venomous, but it was in Qunlat, so Elisabeta had no idea what she said. 

            As Elisabeta ran towards the sound of the Viddasala’s voice, another soldier ran at her.  The rattle went off, without Elisabeta shaking it, killing the soldier.  It also left a burn on the inside of her left arm.  She’d have to ditch the thing soon, but vaguely recalled Andraste instructing her not to until she came face to face with the trickster.

            More soldiers poured out of an opening.  They were filled with arrows and bolts.  One made it through, only to be cut down immediately by dragon bone.

            Elisabeta ran forward, to find another bridge.  This one was filled with Qunari soldiers.  Three fell before she got to them, arrows and bolts sticking out of them.  Then she shook the rattle.  The rest fell to their deaths, those who weren’t already dead that is.

            One managed to cling, by his fingertips, to the edge of the ruins.  He was quickly attacked by a wisp.

            The Inquisitor’s Team quickly found themselves in another courtyard.  This one had yet one more Eluvian.

            “Sweet Maker,” Elisabeta cursed.  “With as many Eluvians as I’ve seen lately, I’m shocked I’d run into as few as I had before this.”

            “There does seem to be an excess lately,” Cassandra agreed.

            More Qunari soldiers rushed at them, only to be mowed down by The Rattle of Andraste, as Elisabeta had begun to think of the makeshift weapon.  The rest were taken out by her team.

            “We must hurry,” Cassandra stated the obvious as they rushed across the field.

            Elisabeta rushed to the Eluvian and shook the rattle at the Qunari guarding it, killing them.  The rattle was becoming more powerful.

            Another member of the Qun came rushing at her from the side, only to be cut down by Cassandra’s sword.

            “One of these mirrors must lead out of here,” she heard Cassandra say to Bull.

            “We’re going through the one the Vidda-Bitch did,” Sera told her.

            As soon as Sera led the rest of Elisabeta’s team to her, they stepped through that mirror.x

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found herself in a large courtyard.  At least that’s what she thought the ruins were.

            “Let us finish this,” Cassandra insisted as they saw the Viddasala standing at yet another mirror at the far end.

            What did Cassandra think she was trying to do?  Elisabeta had been chasing the Viddasala through Ancient Elven ruins and the Viddasala kept throwing her army at her.  Elisabeta ran at the Viddasala, who was posing in front of the mirror.

            “You are dead, Inquisitor,” the Viddasala declared.

            “I’ve been dead before,” Elisabeta shouted back.  “And you’re no archdemon!  Plus, the name is Elisabeta Fucking Cousland-Theirin, Bitch!”

            “Your soul is dust!”  The Viddasala answered.

            Elisabeta was knocked back as The Viddasala’s Saarebas lacky got between her and her target.  She quickly rolled back to her feet.  “Oh no you didn’t just do that.  Fool.”

            The Saarebas made a three-point landing and posed, as if preparing to attack.   He didn’t get a chance to finish that attack, though.  Elisabeta pointed Excalibur at him and blasted him with ice.  She then made a punisher move before he could get his barriers up.  He was then quickly surrounded.  Cassandra beat at him with her shield and the Iron Bull hit him with his claymore.  The saarebas also ended up with three arrows and two bolts in him. 

            Still, he didn’t go down.  He jumped up in the air, pulling his barriers up.  He landed again, further back in the courtyard.

            Elisabeta ground her teeth.  She did not have time for this.  “You picked the wrong side, idiot.  You could have been free, but you follow that Vidda-Bitch around like you’re a pup and she’s your dame.  For that, you will die.”  She whipped out the rattle.

            The saarebas jumped again and landed.  He landed directly on one of Dorian’s fire mines.

            As the flames shot up, Dorian laughed happily.  Then he shot a trail of fire at his opponent.

            When the saarebas again hit the ground, he somehow managed to summon a rage demon and an ogre.

            The ogre took Elisabeta aback for a moment.  How had he summoned a darkspawn?  She had long suspected that Qunari women were turned into the broodmothers who produced ogres, but how could a saarebas summon one from the Fade?  That had disturbing implications. 

            The Iron Bull took on the ogre, while Cassandra set about vanquishing the rage demon.

            Elisabeta kept her attention on the saarebas.  She faded into the shadow and came up behind him.  Then she shook the rattle at him.  He turned slightly at the sound, but it was too late.  The blast took down his barriers.  Elisabeta flipped into the air, her swords flashing.  When she came down, the saarebas’ head went flying into the air, but the rest of his body hit the ground. 

            “Thank you, Andraste,” Elisabeta sent up a little prayer to the goddess who had put the anchor into the rattle.  She turned, noting the ogre and rage demon had both been vanquished.

            “Go,” Cassandra encouraged her.

            “Send the Vidda-Bitch my hate,” Sera added.

            Elisabeta ran and leapt through the mirror.

            Elisabeta did a summersault as she landed on the other side of the mirror and found herself facing it again.  When she turned, she was startled by a statue.  It was of a Qunari in mid-swing and very lifelike. 

            As she moved further in, she realized there was dozens of such statues.  She was still in the ruins, but a beautiful area that could have once been a garden.  Still, the statues should have worn a bit by now.  They were still full of beautiful detail.

            She carefully made her way around the stone statues and saw a staircase leading up.  A pair of stone halla guarded it.

            As she made her way to the base, she heard voices; familiar voices.  They were speaking elvish.  One of those voices speaking elvish was Solas.

            She rushed ahead, determined to kill her former friend before the Viddasala could.

            The answer to whatever Solas had said came in Qunlat, it was the Viddasala’s voice.  Damn, she’d found him.

            Then Solas spoke in English.  “Your forces have failed, leave now and tell the Qunari to trouble me no farther.”

            Elisabeta could now see the pair.  Solas stood in front of yet another Eluvian.  He was dressed in… damn, he looked good!  His armor was stylish, if in a style that harkened back to eons ago.  He coolly turned his back on the Viddasala, as if she didn’t concern him at all.

            The Viddasala obviously didn’t like that.  She stood, stunned for a moment.  Then she grunted and lifted her spear to throw at the elf.  As she lifted her arm to heft it, she turned to stone.

            Maker’s Breath!  It was Solas!  The statues were the Qunari who had come up against him.  He just turned them to stone.  Elisabeta was shocked and amazed.  Then she was annoyed.  Had he always had those abilities?  If he had, why hadn’t he just turned Corypheus into stone?

            Solas continued to walk, that’s when she noticed he was wearing boots.  They were nice boots.  She felt as if she’d never truly known the elf at all.  She knew she should let him walk away, but… she had to say something.  “Solas.”

            Solas slowly turned to her.  His light armor was even carved.  When had he gotten a good tailor?  How long had he actually had fashion sense?  She was about to ask him, but then the rattle started glowing again.  She realized she was still holding it in her hand.  “I thought you would be in more pain,” he admitted.

            Elisabeta gave an elegant snort.  “You will never see me writhe in pain in front of you.  I am of the blood of Cousland, a daughter of Highever.”

            “Very true,” Solas acknowledged.  “I guess then that we have more time than I thought.  I suspect you have questions.”

            “Solas, have I ever wanted to hear one of your endless explanations?”  She stared him down.

            Solas slowly closed his eyes, as if he hadn’t been expecting that answer.  Then he opened them and cocked his head at Elisabeta.

            She gave a shrug and lifted her chin.  “Ever?”

            Solas’ eyes widened.  “Well then,” he spoke quickly.  “Briefly: I am the Dread Wolf.  I fought the elven false gods created the Veil, and destroyed my people.”  He spoke quickly, but succinctly.  “I intend to restore them.  Doing so will most likely destroy your world.”  His declaration was flat, making it apparent that he didn’t care about the effects of his dastardly plan.  He slowly walked to the mirror and then turned back to her.

            Elisabeta wondered when he’d gotten into dramatic effects and poses.  Had he hung around Dorian for too long?  No, no one could hang around Dorian for too long, there was no such thing.

            “Also, your mark is getting worse.”  He added.

            She realized he didn’t know that she no longer carried the Mark.  Well, Andraste had pulled the wool over his eyes.

            “Oh, yes… the mark.”  Elisabeta grabbed her wrist.  “The pain, oh the pain.”  Her voice was flat and dry.

            “Ultimately, only I could have born the mark and lived,” Solas declared.  He moved to take her hand.  “Your death would cause more senseless chaos, more bloodshed.  It is unnecessary.”

            Elisabeta jerked her hand away.  There was no way she was going to hand him the rattle.  “You’re a pompous ass,” she informed her.  “And where is Flemeth, why haven’t I seen her lately?  There isn’t even a rumor of her in Ferelden.  If I find out you did something to her as well…”  She paused.  “You’ll feel Morrigan’s wrath.  She’s even more scary than I am.  First, however, I notice you have no questions.  No how’s Sera, have you read the latest issue of Hard in Hightown.  You just want to destroy my home, my world; their world.  Do you know what you are?  You're a liar, that it, just a liar. You lied about not knowing how the Breach was opened. You lied about why you were in the area. You lied about everything, didn't you?  Here, I thought you were a man that wanted to help, instead you were just a garden variety liar, with plans to become a garden variety villain. You want to destroy the world?  Maker's dimpled ass, how banal can you be?  You could have been an original, you know.  Find a way to heal the Veil and bring what's left of your people safely into this world, but no.  You and your people are much too good for that, aren't you? You're so special. Ancient magic and all that druffalo shit, right?  The ancient elves may have created wonderful, magical things, but they were also as corrupt as humans are now, weren't they?  Slaves with face tattoos and everything.”

“So, you bring down the Veil, kill everyone that's not an elf; and let's be honest, most of them would die too, right?  Then what?  You still have the Evanuris to contend with. And when they gang up to kill you, and that's the most likely outcome, what will have changed?  Nothing, and you're still a big loser that broke the world twice... For nothing.”

He reached to take her arm again and she slapped his hand away. “No! Bad cub...  Have you forgotten that I'm a Fereldan, you asshole?  We kennel naughty dogs that can't stop shitting on the carpet.  Andraste did not bring me back from the Void to let you break the world again." She moved, as if to offer him the rattle, then pulled it away when he reached for it. “Hah... I’m not giving it to you.  If you sit and beg, I may throw it for you to fetch.  Thorn likes to play such games.  Of course, you're not as well behaved as she is, so you might not bring it back. I don't think I'll be doing that.”

“During the Fifth Blight, we helped a clan of Dalish in the Brecilian Forest. Their keeper told a story about elves keeping hounds to keep the Dread Wolf at bay. You may not have noticed, but I am not just any Fereldan.  I’m not even merely a Cousland of Highever, I’m the fucking Queen of Ferelden, and we have lots of Mabari. Run, Solas, run and hide. It doesn't matter where you do, me and my dogs will find you. And when we do, may Andraste have mercy on your soul, because I won't.”

“I need that… what is that?”  He was blinking stunned.

“It’s not yours, that is what it is,” she informed him.

“You must give it to me,” he insisted.  “Only I can contain its power.”

“What about Mythal?”  She questioned.

“Mythal is gone,” he said quickly.  Then he flinched.  “She could not have contained it anyway.”

“Because it comes from your power?”  Elisabeta challenged.  “Because it came from the orb you gave Corypheus?  That ball broke.  If I must, I’ll break the rattle.  Otherwise, I’m keeping it, as a reminder of the danger my people are in from you.”

“I could kill you now,” he reminded her.

“Andraste would just bring me back to fight you,” she answered.  At least, she hoped Andraste would.  If not, She would find a new champion.

“However, your death would serve naught,” he turned from her, dismissive.  “There will be enough chaos and death when I lower the Veil.  Your death would cause even more chaos and pointless deaths.  Live well, Beta, while you can.” 

Solas walked through the mirror.

Elisabeta turned and studied the Viddasala statue.  Then she went about the best way of beheading it so she could place the head somewhere on the walls of Cousland Castle.

Chapter Text

Elisabeta found her team waiting for her.

Sera and Varric were making some sort of bet.

“He’s going to be naked,” Sera insisted.

“He’ll at least be wearing rags,” Varric countered.  “Chuckles is too dignified for full nudity.  Maybe he will have made a tunic from leaves and bark.”

“It will be a full robe of leaves and bark,” Dorian interjected.  He stood as Elisabeta approached them.  “Well?”

“He looked good,” she said dully.  “Very fashionable.  Leliana would have envied his boots.”

Dorian just stared at her, blinking.

“Chuckles, in boots?”  Varric laughed a little.

“Yes, they were a nice leather and well made,” Elisabeta nodded.  “And even Dorian would have envied the cut of his clothes.  It seems evil elves have great tailors.  It’s not fair.”

“Did you kill him?”  Cassandra had her priorities.

Elisabeta let out a long sigh and shook her head.  “He’s Fen’Harel.  He turned the Viddasala into stone.  He could have done the same to me, but he wants me around to see him destroy the world.”

“Stone?”  The Iron Bull shuttered.  “And he’s Fen’Harel?”

Sera guffawed.  “Fen’Harel isn’t real.”

“Mythal is,” Varric reminded her.

“He turned the Viddasala into stone,” Elisabeta repeated.  “He plans to bring down the Veil.”

“What do we plan to do about that?”  Cassandra questioned.

“Something damned heroic,” Elisabeta answered.  “We’ll all be big, damn heroes.  I just haven’t figured out how just yet.  For now, I have to deal with the Exalted Council and an overly puffed-up Chantry.  I should also inform the rest of Southern Thedas that we’re about to go to war and an ancient elven god plans to destroy our world.”

“Pfff…” Sera crinkled her nose.  “If it isn’t about a new, ridiculous fashion, Orlais won’t care and you’re Ferelden, so you don’t have to inform you.”

“We’ll need to notify Navarra, The Free Marches, and Antiva,” Cassandra pointed out.  “As well as Rivaini.”

“I’ll tell my countrymen,” Dorian added.  “I don’t know which part will scare them more.”

They discussed options and the best course of action as they made their way slowly back to the Winter Palace.

When Elisabeta was back in Halamshiral she had a warm bath.  The Exalted Council could wait a little longer.

After the bath, she knew exactly what her next course of action would be. 

She changed into formal wear and summoned her team, advising them to dress the part.

Chapter Text

“I agree that something must be done, but we cannot lose the Inquisition now,” Ambassador DeMontfort tried to explain to the other members of the Exalted Council.  “Not when we’re on the brink of war with the Qunari.”

“Yes,” Teagan sneered.  “Because this Solas provoked them in the first place.”

“You’re just jealous, because the Qunari didn’t believe you were worth targeting!”  Hawke shouted from the audience.

Andromeda let out a string a babbles that ended with a zerbert.

Ambassador DeMontfort took that to mean she agreed with him. 

Alistair narrowed his eyes at Teagan.  “Who mentioned Solas to you?”  He turned to glare at Leliana, who blanched.  “And you used to be a spy master,” he shook his head.

“We did have to keep the ambassadors appraised,” Josie declared as she finally appeared.

“Did Beta or Adrianna tell you to keep them appraised?”  Alistair questioned.

“No, but…”  Ambassador Montilyet stopped in midsentence when she realized there was no chair left behind the Inquisition’s table for her.

Bran grinned and waved at her.

She moaned, picked the toddler up, and settled him on her lap.  “Tell me a toddler and infant have not been representing the Inquisition in my absence.”

“They’re Beta and Addie’s heirs,” Alistair shrugged.  “They have to learn to negotiate at some point.”

Josephine let out a groan and laid her head against the back of her chair.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zevran Arainai strutted in.

Josephine groaned again.

Alistair grinned.  “I was wondering when you would show up again.  I see you were keeping our ambassador busy.”

“I was merely…”  Zevran squared his shoulders.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.

“Sure, you don’t!”  Isabela, who still sat next to Hawke, laughed.

Ambassador Josephine Montilyet sat up strait and lifted her chin.  “The Inquisition did not cause this threat.  We informed the Summit of the danger…”

“The danger imposed by Qunari spies inside your organization!”  Teagan cut her off.

“Josie, I need to talk to Leliana and you about the need for discretion in negotiations,” Alistair hissed to her.  “You should be embarrassed that I, of all people, need to explain things to you.”

None of them noticed when the doors into the council chambers were opened again or the very angry woman in formal dress who was marching towards them.

“Without our organization, none of us would be here,” Cassandra stood from her place in the back of the audience.

Most of the audience gasped.

“When did…”  Teagan cut off his own words.

“I didn’t know you were back, Cassandra,” Leliana informed her.

“She didn’t see us sitting here?”  Anders murmured to Solona from where they sat near Hawke.

“Yes, it seems the Inquisition is trying to keep things from us,” Teagan accused the Divine.

“Not as much as they should be,” Hawke muttered from the audience, not bothering to keep his voice down.  He never had, why would he start now?

Teagan then gave a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes at Cassandra.  “No one has forgotten what you have done.  But Corypheus is two years dead.”  He still didn’t notice the angry woman walking up the aisle.

“If the Inquisition needs to continue, it must do so as a legitimate organization,” Ambassador DeMontfort declared.  “Not as a glorified mercenary band.”

Now Josephine stood and approached the Exalted Council.

“If she’s on her feet, somethings going to go down,” Alistair quietly told his daughter.

Her response was to clench her fists and kick her feet.

Josephine opened her mouth to speak and then stopped as Elisabeta came to stand behind her, a large book under one arm.  “Inquisitor?”

Elisabeta took the very large and heavy book from under her left arm and held it up with her right.  “Do you know what this is?”  She demanded of the Exalted Council.  “It’s a writ from Divine Justinia, authorizing the formation of the Inquisition.  We pledged to close the breach, find those responsible, and restore order; with or without anyone’s approval.”  She turned to show the book to the audience.

Cassandra gave a little smile and nod of approval.

“Yet I personally, was not chosen by Divine Justinia,” Elisabeta continued.  “When Justinia went into the Fade, she went with Desdemona Trevelyan, a mage who had been made Tranquil; and thus, could not handle the Fade.  Reconnection to the Fade made her and her emotions raw and she cried for release.  Andraste had mercy and took her, returning me to Thedas in her place.  I was chosen by the Bride of the Maker, not some self-important council.  With the Inquisition that I helped build, we accomplish our goal.  We saved Thedas.  This was after I had already saved Ferelden and this is the thanks I get.”  She waved at the Exalted Council.  “This is how Ferelden, Orlais, and the Chantry treat those who rescued them when they would not rescue themselves.”

“Um, honey,” Alistair whispered to his wife.

She just gave him a single shake of her head.  “Now, they try to point the finger at us, when they were almost blown up by the Qunari.  I didn’t get a single ‘thank you for keeping us alive again, Elisabeta’.  No, it was Teagan the Coward pointing fingers at me.  He’s afraid he might have to lift his own sword again.  Montfort remained quiet and the badass I put on the throne as Divine refused to stand up to either one of them.  What does this Exalted Council think it’s going to accomplish now?  It wasn’t a formal authorized treaty that saved Ferelden’s people.”  She turned on Ambassador DeMontfort.  “It wasn’t careful diplomacy that ended your inane civil war.”  She moved the glare to Leliana.  “It was never about the organization.”  She shifted back to the audience.  “It was about people doing what was necessary.”  She dropped the book on the floor, at the council’s feet, with a loud bang.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a world to save.  Again.  Every member of this council can go fuck themselves, including Empress Celine for encouraging this.”  She raised a hand as she moved back to the door.  “Effective immediately, the Inquisition is disbanded.”

Those watching gasped.

Halfway down the aisle, Elisabeta flipped off the room and got a second loud gasp.

Leliana stood in shock.

Alistair bundled up his daughter and raced after his wife.

Anders stood from his place in the audience.  He lifted his chin and dramatically flicked the scarf he was wearing.  “I guess you got what you came for.”  He held out his arm.  “Come, Solona, let’s leave these Chantry Shills.  We can go blow up secret Qunari bases.”

Solona stood and took his arm.  “I will be delighted to, my love.”

One by one, the rest of Elisabeta’s team stood, including Hawke and his friends.  As they exited as a group, all but Cassandra, flipped off the Exalted Council.

Chapter Text

“I hope you didn’t include me when you told off Ferelden there,” Alistair commented to his wife as they watched Ghislain perry Teagan’s vain thrusts.

“No, just our Bannorn,” she assured him.  “Go for the jugular!”  She encouraged Ghislain.

“Oh… good,” Alistair nodded.  He flinched as Teagan stumbled.  “I really don’t want to watch my uncle die.   Perhaps we should encourage Ghislain to be merciful.”

“Perhaps Teagan should have kept his trousers on,” Elisabeta countered.  “After his actions at this Exalted Council, I want to personally challenge him to a duel and kill him myself.”

Alistair sighed.  “Just don’t challenge Empress Celine or Ambassador DeMontfort.”

“No,” Elisabeta’s shoulders slumped in sadness.  “We need Orlais to help with the Qunari threat.  I’m going to chew out the Bannorn, though.  As soon as we return home, I’m calling a Landsmeet and discussing the threats; both the Qunari and Solas.  I will be spending several hours, make those days, reminding them why we needed the Inquisition and how much the banns who wanted it gone messed up.  I will make sure they know that there is yet another threat and they made it worse, again.”

“Do you have any plans on what to do about Solas?”  Alistair wanted to know.

“I’m going to secretly reestablish the Inquisition, but with new people; people he doesn’t know,” she informed him.  “Meanwhile, I’m going to do everything I can to protect my family and home.”

He leaned in and kissed her.  “Family and home,” he repeated.  “That’s what matters.”