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

"He isn't?"

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

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

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

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

#

"Ser Brehan, Lady Leliana."

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

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

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

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

"What did he want?" Brehan asked.

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

"Has he arrived yet?"

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

#

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

Their current commander stood to Alistair's right. She thought he'd grown a couple inches since the last time she'd seen him. She wasn't going to cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

"I have eyes."

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

"Tell me of her."

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

"She saved you."

"Yes."

"Then I suppose we must travel to Orlais."

#

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

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

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

"Sod off ya bleedin knife ear."

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

"Say your piece and hop away, rabbit."

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

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

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

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

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

"Ew," Leliana said.

#

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

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

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

"The honor is mine, Revered Mother."

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

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

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

She hesitated a moment. "Are you..."

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

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

"I see," Leliana said.

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

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

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

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

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

"I speak only truth, Revered Mother."

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled.

#

Leliana almost giggled when she saw Dorothea staring at where Schmooples was cuddled against Vir'ghilani. Dorothea shook her head. "You travel with a nug... and wolf."

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

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

"Are you ready?" Leliana asked.

"I am."

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

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

#

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

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

#

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

"I like him to," Leliana said.

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

#

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

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

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

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

"I am."

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

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

"We will swear them safe passage, Hahren."

Brehan turned to them. "What say you?"

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

#

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

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

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

#

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

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

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

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

"Are you familiar with the chant?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

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

"So am I," Dorothea replied.

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

#

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

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

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

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

"The blessing of the Maker."

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

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

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

The next day brought them to Val Royeaux.