Disclaimer:

The Dragon Age universe and all of its characters are property of Bioware. I do not own any of these characters or locations.

Ariane scowled. 'I don't understand why I need to be here. I explained everything to the Templars years ago.'

The woman smiled gently, and waved a hand to indicate the emblem on her black lacquered breastplate. A golden eye, surrounded by a sunburst. 'As you can see, you are not here at the request of the Templars.' She leaned forward. Her face was remarkably soft, in sharp contrast to her heavy armour. 'I was hoping we could go through it again.'

Ariane sighed. 'Do I really have a choice?'

The woman just smiled.

'I just want to make it clear that I will tell you absolutely anything you want. I really want to help here. If there's anything I can do-'

Cassandra closed her eyes and massaged her temples. 'Thank you, Aldebrant. I think you've made that rather clear.'

Finn fidgeted in his seat, scratching the grimy metal armrests with a fingernail. 'I mean, I told the Templars everything as soon as I got back, and Ariane agreed on everything. But I know you might want to confirm for your own records. Seeker. Did- did the Templars mention that I came right back, by the way?'

The dark-haired Seeker leaned back in her own chair. The dingy basement provided by the Lothering Chantry for interviews was small and stiflingly hot. The light from a lone torch played across the table that was, besides the two chairs, it's only furnishing. Under its flickering light, the words on the densely inked pages in front of her were difficult to make out, but one appeared so often as to be clear to Finn even in the semi-darkness. Warden.

Her eyes followed his and she casually rested a black-armoured arm on the table, obscuring his view of the pages. 'The Templars' version may have been... flawed.', she said tersely. 'Begin as early as you can and leave nothing out. We will know if you do.'

'So can you actually do that? Tell if people are lying, I mean. And resist blood magic and erase memories and the like. I read about something like that once, but a lot of it seemed a bit improbable. But with texts that old it's difficult to find anything to cross-reference so who knows, right? There was one Orlesian book in the library which was a bit hard to make out but I tried cleaning up a few of the images and some of the stories were just mad, then there was another one which wouldn't even open. I tried for ages and eventually it sort of exploded at me so I-' He caught the expression on the Seeker's face and reflexively clapped a hand over his mouth.

'From. The. Beginning.', she repeated, apparently having some difficulty unclenching her teeth.

''s interesting though...' mumbled Finn, avoiding eye contact.

Cassandra closed her eyes again, exhaling slowly. At least this was better than the dwarf.

'We were both looking for the witch,' Ariane explained. 'I found him outside a cottage in the Wilds, fighting a few stray darkspawn.'

Stray darkspawn hadn't seemed like an issue at the time – a reminder of the all-too-recent Blight, but also of the camaraderie that had thrown it back. They hadn't known yet that the darkspawn would continue to grow bolder in the Wilds, archdemon or no.

Ariane hadn't known that one would eventually kill the hunter she had promised herself to. Banic had been as strong as she was, and he hadn't been able to fight the taint. She was wiser now.

The red-haired Seeker tilted her head curiously. 'Morrigan was in this cottage?'

'No, she wasn't there.' The details were coming back to Ariane. The cottage had looked so innocent, like something from a children's story. Those familiar with the surrounding land, however, knew of the real live witch hiding inside. 'The cottage was Asha'bellanar's – the Witch of the Wilds. Morrigan's mother. Those who believed the stories would tell you that she would kill any who approached.'

The other woman smiled. 'There is often much to be learned from such tales. Did you believe them?'

Ariane studied her hands. The marks of her blood writing traced circles and swirls around her fingers, telling the stories of the Dalish. Those that remained, anyways. 'The book was very important. The one that Morrigan stole. I was willing to risk my life to get it back.' She looked up, willing the Seeker to understand. 'It was a relic of my people and could never be replaced. So few care for our history anymore, and the Keeper was flattered by her interest when she asked to see it. We trusted her, and she stole what was most important to us.'

The Seeker stared back, unblinking. 'Yes. That certainly sounds like the Morrigan I knew.'

'I saw him in the library.' Finn recalled, closing his eyes to summon the image behind his eyelids.' I thought it was odd. Not that I was in the library, I mean. I'm always in the library. Or, well, I was.' He opened his eyes and studied the floor, fighting the lump in his throat. 'Back when there was a library to be in.'

'The Warden,' prompted Cassandra, tapping her foot.

'Right. Well, you normally only see mages and Templars around the Circle. We don't get many visitors. Or we didn't, I suppose', he corrected, wincing. Using the past tense was still difficult. 'So I suppose he stuck out.'

Truthfully, the Warden would have stuck out anywhere. Dressed in plate, holding a shield bearing the Cousland crest and accompanied by a dirty great Mabari and a beautiful, heavily armed Dalish warrior, the Warden had looked faintly ridiculous wandering the stacks with a slight frown of concentration on his face. Not that Finn would have dared laugh at someone with that many weapons. His first instinct had been to hide and hope that this aberration in the daily routine of the Circle went away. Finn had been used to having the thick walls of the Tower, a considerable amount of water and the vigilance of the Templars between him and the unpredictable, unordered real world. It seemed almost offensive to see such blatant evidence of it wandering about, poring over catalogues and looking a little lost.

'So you saw the Warden and spoke to him,' Cassandra said. 'Or did he approach you?' Her expression suggested that it made little difference to her.

'No, it was me,' said Finn hastily, trying to bring his thoughts back on track. 'He was looking at books and there was one he was breaking so I told him to stop.'

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. 'He was trying to destroy a book? In the Circle library?'

'Not trying. He was just... bending it. A bit. It was a very old book...' Finn finished lamely, seeing Cassandra's dubious expression. 'Anyways, it was a very specific one. On Elvhen artifacts, the only known copy. So he explained what he was looking for, and I knew something about it, so I took him to speak to Eleni Zinovia in the basement-'

'The Tevinter statue.', the Seeker interrupted, glancing down at the pages in front of her. 'You spoke to this statue often?'

'Well, yeah.' Finn answered. 'Only when Hadley would let me down there,' he added hastily. 'It was a quiet place to read, and if I was translating something difficult she could help occasionally. Or provide some context for a historical account. Things like that.'

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. 'According to the Circle's records, the statue was known for making prophecies.' She shuffled her papers, tapping the bottoms on the scored surface of the table to even them. 'Did it tell the Warden anything of the future?'

Finn's eyes returned to his boots. 'This floor is really kind of filthy,' he mused, toeing the table leg.

The Seeker didn't blink. 'The statue, mage.'

'It said... something about a prison, and darkness. I can't remember it very well.', Finn answered, hearing how hollow the lie sounded as soon as he said it. His own predilection for memory aside, he couldn't have forgotten his final conversation with Eleni if he had tried. The prison is breached. I see the encroaching darkness. The ... the shadow will consume all... 'She also said I would never speak to her again,' he added, hoping to change the subject. 'I... sort of thought it meant I was going to die. I was a bit upset at the time.' Slight understatement. If he remembered correctly he had shrieked like a girl.

Cassandra sighed, glancing back at her parchments. The gold emblem on her chest gleamed. 'And yet you are noticeably alive. So the statue's prophecies were inaccurate.' Although her face remained expressionless, he could swear the Seeker sounded almost relieved.

Finn shook his head. 'No, she was right. While I was gone, some rebel mages in the Starkhaven Circle blew up their phylactery chamber. After the Templars heard about that, none of us were allowed in the basement – in case we got any ideas. So you see, we never did speak again.'

Ariane's back was beginning to cramp. She hoped that Dog was doing alright, wherever the Seekers had taken him. Down in the stuffy cellar room, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. It had probably been hours, and felt like days.

She pushed herself up and paced around the small room, running her hand along the rough walls. Her fingers came up blackened. The pretty red-haired Seeker had departed with no explanation, simply saying that she would return soon. Apparently these shemlan had a slightly unusual estimation of what 'soon' meant. How long was she expected to wait?

She perched on the table, crossing her legs. With a sigh, she tried to picture what her clan must be doing right now. They had promised to wait for her, of course, but it was possible that they wouldn't be able to. The Templars, without the Chantry to keep them in line, had grown bolder, and the unspoken law that protected the mages among the Dalish no longer seemed to apply. Templars had already taken their Keeper, supposedly for 'questioning'. It had been all they could manage to hide the Keeper's young apprentice.

They would be hunting now, she imagined, although they would be nowhere near as successful as when she led the hunt. She cringed slightly at the her vanity. More often than not it was true, though. She was still the clan's undisputed best hunter, and she had a place no matter where the clan – her family – settled. The thought was comforting, even if her place was somewhat hard to see here in this dim Chantry cellar.

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Ariane's stomach growled angrily and she wished the Seekers had not taken her pack. They took my weapons, too, she thought. And my dog. She eyed the door once more. At first she had taken it for wood, but on this side she could see that it was braced with heavy black iron, and bore a complicated lock and a heavy handle. She considered trying it to see if it was locked, then realized that she might not want to know the answer.

With a groan the door swung open, making her jump. The Seeker sidestepped in, holding a cup in either hand. Her armour clinked as she offered one to Ariane. 'I thought you might be thirsty.' She didn't look remotely alarmed to see Ariane on the table.

Ariane cautiously took the mug, wondering if the Seeker intended to intoxicate her in the hoped of wringing out information. She raised it to her mouth, sniffing it cautiously. Water. Paranoid, she chided herself. Yes, this order seemed insane, but that was hardly unusual for humans. Still, she ignored the protest of her dry throat and put the cup down without tasting it. The Seeker, sitting back down, pretended not to notice.

'So.', said the Seeker, sipping at her own water. 'Shall we resume? You were explaining how you found a shard of the Eluvian.' Her blue eyes were calm over the rim of the mug.

Ariane sighed, dropping her legs over the edge of the table and standing. 'A different Eluvian,' she explained, returning to her seat. 'Finn thought he could find the whole one if he could see the broken one.'

The Seeker tucked a stray red braid behind her ear. 'I had thought that these artifacts rare. The Warden knew where to find another?'

'No.', Ariane answered. 'I told him. Another clan, the Sabraes, had encountered it in ruins, deep in the Brecilian forest. '

The Seeker smiled. 'I have seen such ruins. Long ago. I remember that they were beautiful, but I wouldn't have called them safe.'

'They weren't. We were attacked.' Ariane considered explaining what they had seen, the Elvhen spirits that still roamed the place, protecting the secrets inside, but decided against it. She wouldn't understand. And then I would have to admit that the spirits of my ancestors didn't consider me worthy of the place, a smaller voice added. She quashed the thought and looked back at her interviewer. 'We found the Eluvian though. Broken, as I had been told. But it worked.'

'I have the feeling you're leaving out much of the danger,' said the Seeker, still smiling. She didn't sound angry.

Ariane shrugged. 'I wasn't worried. I can handle myself, and so could the Warden. The mage looked a bit like he wanted to hide under a rock, but I think he wanted to see the ruins almost as much as I did.'

' And besides,' the elf added, more to herself than anyone, 'it was dangerous, but the Warden needed us.'

Ir abla, she thought, I don't even know which of us I'm trying to convince anymore.

'So you performed this scrying ritual.' Cassandra's face was unreadable. 'While your cohorts dealt with the danger.'

'Um,' said Finn. 'Sort of?' Why did everything he said to the Seeker come out as a question? He tried again. 'Well, there were those guardians – the spirits – and I needed to concentrate so that nothing went wrong, so-'

'Go wrong.' Cassandra repeated. 'There was a risk of failure.' We're mirror images, Finn realized absently. Even questions are statements when she says them. 'The ritual was dangerous then.'

'No!' Finn corrected. 'I mean yes, there's always a risk of failure, but – it wasn't dangerous...' he trailed off. Despite his best efforts he was fidgeting again, looping the ends of his sleeves around his fingers. Cassandra's face was reminescent of some of the more terrifying religious icons he had seen. Did they actually give lessons for that expression in the Seekers? Maybe that was what was in that stupid book. 'It was just scrying,' he said finally, 'like we do in the Circle. Did. It was fine. And it did work.'

The Seeker remained unimpressed. 'So is 'it worked' is usually sufficient reason for these magical experiments?' She continued before he had a chance to inhale to defend himself. 'The Tevinters told you that there were two components required to find the artifact. What of the other?'

'Yes we needed - the Tevinters didn't tell me,' Finn objected, 'it was just something I read... I mean, the scroll was Tevinter, but I had to translate it and it took ages and even so I'm not sure how accurate it was, and I probably know more about it than anyone else in the Circle does. Did.', he added at her raised eyebrow. 'But the point is,' he soldiered on, realizing at the same time that he no longer had any idea what his point had been, 'that it wasn't the Tevinters or anyone else's idea.'

'It was your idea, then.' The Seeker's tone was frosty. 'That you came up with based on the magisters research. Which you studied for, what was it? Ages.'

'But... it was interesting. That wasn't it. You weren't-' Finn stopped himself, realizing that the Seeker had indeed been listening - much more closely than he had. During a particularly difficult translation, Finn had sometimes thought of language as a tapestry, with a thousand interwoven threads that made sense only when seen wound together. His own words seemed intent on winding themselves into a noose. 'The Warden agreed..?', he offered, wincing at the return of the upwards intonation. Even his mouth didn't believe him.

'Tell me what happened at the Thaig. You were searching for these lanterns.'

'Lights. The Lights of Arlathan, yes. Remnants of the Elvhen ruins buried underneath the Thaig. They must have been there for centuries.' Finn wistfully remembered the glowing lights and shadowy guardians, incongruous in the crumbling dwarven ruins. It would have almost been worth the mud to go back.

'The inhabitants of the Thaig had left these artefacts undisturbed. That seems unlikely.'

'It was brilliant actually,' said Finn, glad to be back on a topic he could talk easily about. Not knowing the right answer to a question was an uncomfortable experience for him, and had been happening all too often in this conversation. 'The ancient elves were terribly clever with their magic. They set up a ward based on their own set of qualifications, which relied on both a physical match and an ideological understanding... You had to be worthy,' he said, seeing the Seeker's eyes glaze over. The specifics were probably best saved for an academic situation. He felt slightly disappointed anyways. 'The dwarves couldn't see the lights because they weren't what the ancients considered worthy.'

'And the Warden was worthy of these Lights?' Cassandra's interest picked up, audible under her cold tone. 'What was the reason?'

'It wasn't the Warden. Not me, either,' Finn added, seeing the Seeker's dubious expression. 'The only people the ancients would consider worthy was one of their own. As far as the ancients were concerned, we were both just human trespassers. Ariane was one of the Dalish, so physically she was much closer. If you combined her physical essence with the background knowledge I already had, you could sort of synthesize an ancient - as far as the magic was concerned, anyways. So that's what we did.'

The Seeker pushed herself up, slowly, leaning against the table to balance out the weight of her armour. A muscle in her jaw flexed. Probably atrophied from lack of smiling. Standing, she placed her documents on the table and leaned against the wall. 'So. You used this magic and a 'physical essence'. What would that be, then. Hair?' Her voice rejected the possibility. 'Something else, perhaps.'

Finn felt the colour drain from his face. 'No, well... I mean it wasn't anything...' It was clever, he wanted to say. It was a smart thing to think of. Do I get any approval for that? 'Is there a bathroom I could use?' was what came out instead.

'This magic came from another Tevinter scroll you translated, I suppose. Or was it from the statue?' Cassandra was pacing the narrow room now, arms folded. The torchlight distorted her shadow grotesquely on the wall.

'Yes, but not like that. I mean, yes it was Tevinter, and I did translate it, but it wasn't dangerous or anything.' Finn started to stand. 'Um, if it's alright I'm just going to go look for the-'

The Seeker's mail-clad hand was on his shoulder before he could register her moving, gripping like a vice. She shoved him back into his seat, his legs giving out under him.

'We are not done talking.' Her voice was steely, the Nevarran accent more pronounced without the pretence of warmth. Finn's sleeve had caught on the edge of the chair, and with a wave of nausea he wondered how he had mistaken the rusted manacles attached for armrests.

'It wasn't blood magic,' he blurted out before he could stop himself. 'I mean, there was blood and magic at the same time, but there were no demons and it didn't hurt anyone. It was like the phylacteries, just using blood to find something. The Warden agreed. And... and...' The mage eyed the heavily scratched and dented table and willed his voice to stop cracking.

The Seeker leaned back against the door. 'And it worked.' she finished, crossing her arms over the emblem on her chest. Her face was impassable as ever, but at last she sounded satisfied.

Thank you so much for reading! I am very new to writing, so if you have time, please leave me some concrit and I will love you forever. I really want to improve!

If anyone has a bit more time (and a lot of patience), I would absolutely love a beta for this story. I'm still looking and I'm worried about some of my canon details being off (as well as my writing needing work).