Jowan sat atop the battlements of Vigil's Keep, looking down over the countryside below him as the sun sat high overhead and bathed the land in its warm glow. This had quickly become his favorite place for quiet contemplation when Lhiannon first brought him here several months ago. He had been welcomed into the Grey Wardens with open arms and was able to rekindle the friendships of his youth with both Anders and Lhiannon. He had quickly made friends with Sigrun and Nathaniel even before he arrived at his new home. It was like family; something he had not known since he was a small boy. Not even the camaraderie with the mages at Kinloch Hold could compare.

Then with one careless action, he nearly ruined everything.

Anders and Nathaniel had difficulty understanding how Jowan's demeanor had dampened seemingly overnight. They had tried asking what was bothering him, but what was Jowan to say? Lhiannon had sworn everyone involved to silence regarding the blood magic at Isolde's trial; he had disappointed her enough already without adding a broken vow to her already overwhelming duties and concerns. So he played off his melancholy mood to anything he could think of: the battles at Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine, missing Lily, missing other friends at Kinloch Hold.

A small seed of hope bloomed in his chest when Lhiannon asked him to accompany her to Amaranthine when the structures affected by the Blight needed to be cleansed and burned. She had been friendly to him, trying to draw him out of his melancholy mood. But even as he used his magic to create fire, his mind yearned to use his blood to fuel spells. The call of blood magic was nearly as strong as the burn he felt when darkspawn were near. He could imagine it was similar to what the templars felt when they had gone without their Chantry regulated lyrium for just a bit too long. It had been a small victory when he survived the siege at Vigil's Keep without relying on blood magic, but the temptation to use it was still nearly overwhelming. It seemed that Lhiannon had sensed his turmoil, which is why she wanted to be there with him in Amaranthine and closely watch over him.

The guilt of what he had done was tearing him to pieces. He cursed himself an idiot and a fool on countless occasions since the trial ended. He knew what blood magic had done to him and what it had cost him, but it still did not deter him. He was weak; weak in using the quick and easy path of blood magic rather than devote his time to improving his primal, entropy, or healing magic. Weak in letting the stronger voice and personality of Velanna bowl him over into submission. Saying no to her did cross his mind, but he relented, not wanting to further irk the elf and push her into more rash actions. Still, he was weak and a disappointment to not only the Grey Wardens, but to Lhiannon herself. She was his friend and Commander and he betrayed her trust not once, but twice now. It was a wonder that she had not tossed him to the darkspawn.

He thought a great deal about what he had done as he sat atop the battlements, watching the ebb and flow of daily life below him. Blood magic constantly called to him in the last several years. While other classes of magic were interesting to him, blood magic held a forbidden fascination. He would watch, mesmerized, as he cut his skin and chanted spells, watching the blood rise from the wound and move about like it were a living creature. He had tried to hide his dabblings in blood magic while at Kinloch Hold, but the curious glances given to the cuts on his hands and arms began to grow more and more frequent. While he often tried to pass them off as those gained by a clumsy young man, he had sensed the suspicion growing for some time before he and Lily decided to make their escape. He had wanted to tell Lily about the blood magic, but did not know how. He had hoped to tell her once they fled the tower, but alas…

When he had finally used blood magic openly in his failed attempt to protect Lily, he had opened a door that he knew now should have never been opened. Every time he gathered his power, the need to use blood raged through his body and mind, an addiction that he knew would only grow worse in time until he became the monster he knew maleficars could be. There was only one thing he could do to stop his weakness and stop the call of blood magic roaring in his veins.

Tranquility.

Jowan knew that even mentioning tranquility to Lhiannon would be very difficult to do. She knew all too well what tranquility did to mages; her own first love, a man named Zane, was dragged off by the templars one night years ago and made tranquil. The First Enchanter and Knight Commander thought he would never make it through his Harrowing and thus decided to put him through the rite. Condemned, Lhiannon called it later. Condemned to existing, but not living. She had fought the templars as they dragged Zane away, actually casting a lightning spell at them as they dragged Zane toward the door.

It was Knight Commander Greagoir himself that smited her. Jowan had not been there to see it, but heard about it the next day when Anders quickly pulled him aside on his way to class to tell him; he had been in a nearby closet with a young lady when he heard the commotion and peeked through a crack in the door, shocked and saddened by what he had witnessed. Anders shakily told Jowan that Zane had been taken away for the Rite of Tranquility and that Lhiannon had been smited and thrown into a prison cell for the night. When she emerged later on that next day, she had been a ghost of herself, an empty shell. It had been a number of days before she was able to tell them what had happened. By then, Jowan and Anders had witnessed the outcome; they had seen what became of Zane with their own eyes.

Asking Lhiannon to have the rite performed on him would be the hardest thing he would ever ask her to do, but in the end, it was for the best. He did not trust himself and there was no way he could advance his Calling so that he could find death in the Deep Roads. That knowledge, if it still existed, lay in Kinloch Hold and Jowan did not think the First Enchanter would let him set foot into the tower, let alone peruse the library looking for the secret. No, tranquility was the best option. Jowan sat on the battlements a while longer, watching as a single rider approached the gates of Vigil's Keep at a fast pace. As the rider drew closer, Jowan could sense the taint within him; it was Nathaniel, most likely returning from Amaranthine. But where were Leliana and Zevran? Jowan shrugged, knowing that he would find out eventually; it was probably nothing more than Leliana and Zevran wanting some alone time together. If that was the case, Jowan thought ignorance was bliss. As much as he wanted to know what was happening with Nathaniel's solitary and hurried return, he needed to speak to Lhiannon first. Sliding down off the battlements and gathering his cloak around him, Jowan began to make his way to Lhiannon's office and what he hoped was his new fate.

Loghain had a map of Ferelden spread out on the top of his desk. Lhiannon was standing at his side, pointing to an area of southern Ferelden within the Korcari Wilds. "We will need to travel here soon to seal Urthemiel's breach. The Thaw will end quicker if we can find exactly where the archdemon surfaced. This is where the heart of the darkspawn invasion lies; any that are above ground in that part of Ferelden will likely head there to go beneath the surface if they can't find an easier way down."

"Agreed," Loghain said, running a finger down the line indicating the West Road and continuing along the Imperial Highway to Ostagar. The thought of traveling to that area once again did not hold the unease that it once had. He had made his peace with what had happened there; it held no power over him now. "That is an expedition, I believe, for just the Grey Wardens; I would not wish to expose anyone not already tainted to what will likely be an area crawling with it."

Lhiannon nodded, pointing to the area around Lothering. "Indeed. We will also have to see if the taint that was festering in Lothering or the other nearby settlements has spread or begun to fade with the absence of the darkspawn." She paused, her face darkening. "We'll have to burn anything still showing signs of active taint," she said quietly.

Loghain reached out and squeezed her hand, hoping to confer confidence and support for her. The decision to burn any settlement would likely remain difficult for her. After a moment, she leaned down to drop a small kiss on his temple before moving across the desk to sit.

"I need to make a trip to Kinloch Hold," Lhiannon told Loghain with a sigh. She settled into the one simple chair across from the desk in his office, crossing one leg over the other. "I can't ask any of the other mages to go in my stead."

Loghain scoffed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. "No, I hardly think you would endear yourself to the Circle if you sent one of the others."

"Indeed," Lhiannon agreed, a wry grin crossing her face. "I'm the lesser of all the evils. In their eyes, Anders is an apostate, Jowan a maleficar, and Velanna a heathen. Irving may eventually work with one of the other mages, but Greagoir would have kittens if any of the others turned up on his doorstep. Templars are a touchy lot."

"We need more than mages for the Grey Wardens," Loghain added, tapping his finger on his desktop and where Kinloch Hold lay on his map. "Perhaps when we next go to Denerim, we can speak with the King and with the elves in the Alienage. The next Landsmeet is not far off, so perhaps then would be a good time." He paused for a moment, his own wry grin softening his features. "I should not be the one to go to the Alienage, given recent history. Elder Shianni would most likely want my head."

As Lhiannon snorted a humorous agreement, Loghain's finger trailed down the map from Denerim to Gwaren. He tapped the icon on the map, his face turning thoughtful. "I need to go to Gwaren as well; before the wedding. I need to discuss matters there with Cauthrien and Thorne."

Nodding her understanding, Lhiannon brought one of her knees up to her chest, resting her foot on the seat of the chair and wrapping her arms around her leg. "Will you go there over land or take a ship from Denerim? I imagine the roads will be quite rough with the weather beginning to turn soon." She paused briefly, a small shadow crossing her features. "You'll have to leave soon, I suppose."

Loghain nodded slowly, though he grimaced at the thought of sailing into Gwaren; Fereldens did not sail if they could help it and Loghain was no exception. Ever since Maric boarded the ship that led to his death, Loghain swore he would not set foot on one again. He had been true to his word thus far and had no intentions of stepping on a boat any time soon. "I will have to leave within the next few weeks; however, I won't sail unless I have absolutely no other option. I'd rather have a team of mabari pull me on a sled before boarding a ship again. Maker's breath, I'd rather walk."

As Lhiannon was about to agree, heavy, urgent footsteps could be heard in the hallway. Lhiannon and Loghain gave each other a wary glance, both feeling the taint of a Grey Warden approaching, the feeling tinged with urgency. They looked to the door and saw a tall, lithe figure in leather armor looking into Lhiannon's office.

"Nate?" Lhiannon called out questioningly, motioning for him to come into Loghain's office when he spun about at the sound of his name. "You're all back already? That was fast; I didn't think you would be back for hours yet, or even until tomorrow."

Nathaniel entered Loghain's office; they could both see that he was tired, having ridden hard back to Vigil's Keep. His long hair had come unbound and was tangled in knots, and there were signs of windburn on his face. Lhiannon quickly stood from the chair, motioning for Nathaniel to sit and breathing a rejuvenation spell on him once he settled into the chair. He nodded his thanks as she suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise. "Where are Leliana and Zevran?"

"They are still in Amaranthine, tracking an Orlesian bard named Marjolaine," Nathaniel explained, taking the glass of water that Lhiannon had produced from a shelf near Loghain's desk. Nathaniel greedily gulped it down as Lhiannon and Loghain traded glances; his look a one of questioning while hers was hard and angry.

"Who is Marjolaine?" Loghain asked, a growl in his voice. "Do I even want to know why an Orlesian bard is in our midst?"

Lhiannon shook her head, gritting her teeth and growling. "Maker damn it. She's definitely not here to reminisce with Leliana." Crossing her arms over her chest and standing stiffly, she turned to Loghain and noted his raised brow. "Marjolaine was Leliana's mentor and employer in Orlais. Marjolaine was trading Orlesian secrets, committing treason against the Empire and framing Leliana for it."

"So she brings their so called grand game back to Ferelden?" Loghain growled. "As if we didn't have enough worries with the Thaw, the paranoid Chantry sisters, and Isolde on the run to Maker knows where, now we have a damned bard in our midst." Loghain slammed his fist on his desk, not on the map, of course. "Andraste's flaming arse."

Lhiannon perched herself on the edge of Loghain's desk, sitting so she could easily turn to look at both men and supporting some of her weight on one of her hands. She turned expectantly to Nathaniel. "Had you spoken with Marjolaine while you were in Amaranthine? How did you find her?"

Nathaniel looked between Lhiannon and Loghain, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. "We had left the Chantry to get an update on the harbor; which reminds me—ask me about the Chantry next, Commander." Lhiannon nodded, noting Loghain waving his hand in a "hurry up" gesture to Nathaniel, silently commanding him to continue. He nodded, turning his gaze back to Lhiannon. "We were standing at the top of the hill looking down on the harbor. A small slip had been docking at one of the available docks near the south end of the harbor. We saw several people disembark and thought it was just another ship ferrying passengers and supplies in. We saw a dark haired woman disembark and begin talking to the captain of the ship. Leliana happened to be watching and saw that the woman was this Marjolaine."

"What then?" Lhiannon asked, her dread and impatience growing with each passing moment. She was sure Nathaniel's tale of the Chantry would likely add to those feelings.

"Leliana and Zevran quickly disguised themselves so that they could follow her. I left before Marjolaine exited the harbor." Nathaniel paused to take a drink of water from the second glass Lhiannon handed to him. "I ordered them to find out why she was in Amaranthine then return here with all haste."

Loghain began drumming his fingers on his desk, the small sound of his fingers tapping the top of his desk the only sound in the room. Lhiannon saw that his brow was furrowed in thought. "We will have to trust that Leliana and Zevran will find out the bard's true purpose before she can put whatever plans she has into motion. When they return, we shall discover what they found out and interrogate this bard ourselves for good measure." Loghain moved his hand across the map to finger the small symbol indicating the city of Amaranthine. Will it ever be the same again? "And what of the Chantry?" he began after a moment, his finger tapping the symbol of Amaranthine. "What did you find during your visit there? More paranoia?"

With a sigh, Nathaniel dropped his head for a moment to gather his thoughts. Lhiannon looked at him with dread. She felt Loghain's hand rest on top of hers, his touch light yet comforting. Nathaniel raised his head and looked at Lhiannon. "Leliana met a Sister there that she knew from Lothering. She told Leliana that the Revered Mother left to meet the Grand Cleric in Denerim over a week ago; from there they were headed to Orlais to meet with the Divine."

"What?" Lhiannon gasped, her brows furrowing and a look on her face that was one of disbelief. She heard a growl from her side and turned to see Loghain shaking his head, a dark scowl on his face. "Always Orlais," he snarled, pounding his fist on the desk once more. "If they were in as great a hurry as you suggest, Nathaniel, they are likely near the border by now. If they left by ship, they could already be in Val Royeaux."

"The Sister in Amaranthine said the Revered Mother has been 'obsessed with recent events'," Nathaniel explained, his gaze moving between Loghain and Lhiannon. Lhiannon was looking more and more concerned by the second, her face blanching as Nathaniel watched. Loghain scowled even more deeply than was usual, even for him.

"I have a bad feeling that the Revered Mother is of the belief my parents were," Lhiannon began, her hand coming up to her ear to finger the golden rings in her lobe. "She must literally believe that magic must serve and never rule."

"And your title of 'Arlessa' is too close for her comfort," Loghain growled. "I'm sure she is also unhappy with the King and Queen; Anora gave you this position and Alistair endorsed it, accepting your oath as Arlessa in court. Since he was all but an avowed templar, the Chantry is likely very unhappy with him as well."

"They likely feel that Alistair, with his templar training, should have either fought against Anora naming me Arlessa or stripped me of the title," Lhiannon surmised, her fingers moving from the lobe of her ear to glide along her betrothal band. She turned to Loghain. "Would they feel the same if we were married? You would hold the other half of the title and many of them see the man as the dominant party in marriage. Would that assuage their fears?"

Loghain shrugged then shook his head slightly. "I'm no expert in Chantry affairs. It's possible it may calm their nerves, but you are still a mage holding a title and if the Revered Mother is as fanatical as you believe, even that may not assuage her."

"Your title as Warden Commander is more secular," Nathaniel surmised, rubbing his chin in thought. "That title likely doesn't bother them, especially since as a Grey Warden you command those that fight the darkspawn; the creatures the Maker turned the Tevinter magisters into. So says the Chantry, anyway."

"Well, there is little we can do until Leliana and Zevran return with what information they have found on Marjolaine," Lhiannon sighed. She moved herself off the desk, wrapping her hands around her torso and slowly pacing Loghain's office. "When they return, we can gather the Wardens and let them know what we may be facing. I would rather they all know."

Lhiannon caught movement from the hallway out of the corner of her eye and sensed another tainted presence. She looked up toward her open office door across the hall and saw Jowan quietly drift in. Loghain had also seen the mage enter Lhiannon's office and raised his brow in silent questioning. Lhiannon gave him a slight shrug before turning back to Nathaniel. "Go on and rest up, Nate. We'll call you if we need anything else from you."

As Nathaniel left Loghain's office, Lhiannon gave Loghain's hand a final squeeze before she slid off his desk and moved across the hall and into her own office. "Hey Jowan," she greeting him amiably, crossing the office to her chair behind the desk. Loghain was still across the hall, watching warily as Jowan settled himself down into one of the chairs across from Lhiannon with a heavy sigh.

"Can I talk to you privately, Lhi?" He asked quietly, motioning toward the door. "It's, um, personal."

Lhiannon rose from her chair. As she moved around her desk and where Jowan sat, she saw Loghain give her a curious look, a brow raised in questioning. Lhiannon shrugged and shook her head slightly before shutting the door to her office. She did not run the bolt.

"All right, Jowan," she began, moving toward the chair next to the mage and sitting in it. "What is it you would like to discuss with me?"

Jowan sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "I've been thinking a lot about what happened at the Arlessa's trial. About what I did."

Lhiannon nodded; since the trial, she had noticed that Jowan had become melancholy and distant. She and the other Wardens tried to bring him out of his doldrums, but had little success. That he was finally willing to discuss what happened brought a flicker of hope to Lhiannon. "And?" she gently prompted.

The mage lowered his head to his hands, covering his face for a moment before running his hands down the skin. There was no easy way to say this, so best to just come out with it. "I need to be made Tranquil."

Lhiannon stood from her chair with such speed and force that it toppled over with a loud clatter behind her. "You what?" she breathed, shocked almost to speechlessness by Jowan's request. "Why would you ever want that?" she whispered, her face losing its color. She moved to steady herself against her desk, not trusting her suddenly weak legs to hold her upright.

"I don't trust myself anymore, Lhi. I feel the call of blood magic in my veins every time I gather my power," Jowan explained, his hands held out in a plea. "For Maker's sake, Lhi, I haven't even gone through a proper Harrowing. The call of blood magic is almost as bad as the pull the darkspawn inflict on it. At least when the darkspawn die or go away, their pull fades. The call of blood magic never completely fades."

"You would condemn yourself to a life of not feeling anything?" Lhiannon gasped. "Why, Jowan?"

"It's better than being weak!" Jowan cried out, his voice sounding plaintive and desperate to her ears. "It's better than knowing I betrayed the trust of one of my best friends!"

Lhiannon finally felt she could trust her legs to hold her upright. She stood on shaky legs, wrapping her arms around herself and taking a few small steps away from Jowan and where he sat. Her mind went back to the time Zane was made tranquil. The screams she heard from the Tranquility Room in the tower…she had heard every one from the cell the templars threw her into after they smited her for defending Zane. She howled in pain and anguish with every one of Zane's until they finally slowed and then stopped entirely.

"Jowan, you can overcome those urges. I don't feel the urge to use blood magic, even after having used it once before."

Jowan shook his head rapidly as if trying to block out her words and reason. "No, Lhi. You're strong; you always have been. I'm not. I'm weak and a coward. I took the easy way out. I betrayed you with blood magic…not once but twice. I betrayed and lost Lily. I inadvertently allowed a young boy to bring a demon into his body to torment an entire city." Jowan dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head in his misery. "Tranquility is the only answer; the only guarantee that I won't harm myself or others with blood magic."

Lhiannon watched as Jowan settled his head in his arms once again, staring down at the floor. After a moment she suddenly became angry; angry that Jowan was trying to say that learning blood magic rather than other types was the easy way out, but what was he doing now? Running from his fear by wanting tranquility? "Jowan, you are a coward."

"What?" Jowan gasped, raising his head to look at Lhiannon. He saw righteous anger in her eyes, her cheeks beginning to color with her fury. She pointed an accusatory finger at him, growling as she spoke. "Yes, a coward. You speak of blood magic as the easy way, but then instead of rising above your temptation—your weakness—you seek to destroy your very being to avoid it. Not confronting and overcoming your temptation is weakness." Lhiannon rushed forward and grasped Jowan's shoulders, shaking him once in her anger. "I will not allow you to undergo the Rite of Tranquility. I would do you a grave disservice to even consider it."

"But, Lhi…"

With a slash of her hand, she silenced Jowan's protest. "No, Jowan. You want to overcome your weakness? I shall help you. Anders will certainly help too. We can hone your skills and help you develop new ones that will keep you from even considering blood magic."

Jowan lowered his head, closing his eyes in his misery. "I'm scared," he whispered after a moment. "I don't know if I can resist the call."

Kneeling in front of Jowan, Lhiannon took both of his hands in hers, her gaze softening as the looked at him. "I have faith in you, Jowan."

Jowan raised his eyes to meet Lhiannon's, and found her dark eyes full of unshed tears. She squeezed his hands gently, offering her strength to him to help quash his fear. He leaned forward and gently set his forehead against hers, a single heavy sigh escaping his lips. "All right, Lhi. I'll try."

Releasing Jowan's hands, Lhiannon brought them to the sides of his face and raised her lips to his forehead, planting a small kiss there. "Bravery can be a powerful emotion, Jowan. I know you can do this. I will be there every step of the way. If you feel the call of blood magic, come to either Anders or me. We'll help you through it, just like when we were young and helped each other with our lessons."

Jowan rose to his feet as Lhiannon gathered him into a hug, holding her friend close and lending him her strength. "We have been friends a long time, you and I," she began, feeling the tears welling in her eyes and a burning lump form in her throat. "I can't lose another person close to me to Tranquility. My heart broke when Zane was taken; I would not lose you too."

"Thanks, Lhi," Jowan whispered, pulling away and smiling down at her. Lhiannon returned his smile. "So, we shall begin magic lessons tomorrow, Jowan. We'll improve your other classes of magic and help you learn to overcome the pull of blood magic."

Velanna woke with a start, hearing a strange call in her mind. This was the fourth night in a row she heard this call, incessant and urgent yet strangely familiar. It did not feel like the Calling; she was not exhibiting any other signs of the phenomenon. There were no patches of corruption on her skin, no incessant pull of the darkspawn song in her ears. What she felt was more like an impatient plea, a mantra of hurry, come thrumming through her mind and her blood. She had ignored it long enough; it was time to find out exactly what this strange call was and what it wanted.

Velanna was still smoldering angry at the Commander and her cold, taciturn Second for actually fighting the Architect rather than cooperating with the creature. They could have ended the Blights and saved Seranni—and the others, she quickly amended—in one fell swoop. Do whatever is necessary to end the Blight...is that not what Grey Wardens did? End the Blights? Velanna simply could not understand why the Commander refused to work with the Architect; she had said something about a dream and how the Architect took part of her, but it was to further his research to undermine the darkspawn from within. He had even promised her—and her Second—a child. Velanna could not understand what those two shemlens saw in each other, but still...they would have received a just and fair reward for their help. Velanna also thought that Loghain was blowing matters out of proportion when he said many surface dwellers and dwarves would die if the Architect's plans came to fruition. It was another over reaction from a shemlen who was known for such grandiose and paranoid assumptions.

Not only was that a bone of contention for Velanna, but the Commander had forbidden the use of blood magic except 'when absolutely necessary'. Velanna scoffed to herself; she could control blood magic, unlike the Commander or the other weak mages at Vigil's Keep. Blood magic was the second half of the whole and to deny its existence was to deny its power. It had won the Commander the guilty verdict needed against the lying, duplicitous Arlessa Isolde; the ends, Velanna felt, justified the means.

Rising from her bed, Velanna quickly dressed in her Dalish robes and grabbed her staff, moving silently through the halls of the Vigil and outside. She listened to the call in her mind, straining to hear as it almost became intelligible, a word. She took a couple of steps in one direction and felt the call fade somewhat. Turning back, she walked in the opposite direction, toward the gates of the fortress. The call intensified as she silently moved toward the gate, the murmur in her mind coalescing into a word as she drew closer. "Sister..." The word caressed her mind, pulling her forward as a moth to a flame. Hope bloomed in her heart, an emotion as bright and powerful as the sun in high summer; could it be? Was it possible?

Sigrun found that the more time she spent above ground, the more the sky fascinated her. During the day, she would often look up, mesmerized by the clouds passing by overhead. They could be bright and fluffy one moment, dark and ominous the next, then later a flat, even gray stretching across the entire sky like a blanket. And then the things that fell from it! Rain and snow! The first time she experienced each, she simply stood in the elements, her face tipped toward the sky to let the rain and snow hit her skin and slide off. It was glorious. It was too bad that more dwarves could not experience this without the stigma of being labeled a surfacer. The stone was rigid and unmoving, monotonous. The sky was ever changing and utterly fascinating.

The night sky fascinated her even more. An inky black canvass with bright pinprick stars of white; some even looked an icy blue or warm orange through her spyglass. Lhiannon had found it in the Wending Wood and when she learned of Sigrun's fascination with the nighttime sky, had given it to her. Sigrun had nearly jumped up and down in her glee, hugging Lhiannon fiercely and laughing joyously along with her Commander. Lhiannon was all right...for a cloudhead.

Sigrun had tried counting the stars on the first few nights she used her spyglass, but then realized that the stars were moving, disrupting her count. She then understood the meaning of 'more than the stars in the sky'. There were so many and she learned that people often saw shapes in them, spinning fantastic tales of how the shapes in the sky came to be. Lhiannon showed her some of the shapes the humans saw and Velanna spun tales the Dalish told about the stars and how their gods interacted with them.

When the moon was visible, Sigrun often found herself outside, staring at its majestic yet ethereal appearance, studying its mottled surface and wondering why it appeared as such. Anders had told her that sometimes the moon would cross in front of the sun, turning day into twilight and causing the shadows to arc strangely and animals to burrow down for the night. She could not wait to see one. He consulted the star charts and said it would be some time before such a phenomenon occurred again over Ferelden. She would content herself with the other objects in the sky while she waited. An eclipse, he called it, and she found herself incredibly anxious to see one.

It was as she lay on a stone bench just outside the Vigil studying the night sky that she sensed another Grey Warden presence close by, an undercurrent of haste thrumming through the taint between them. Sitting up, Sigrun looked about and saw Velanna slinking off toward the city gates, keeping to the shadows in an effort to not be spotted by the guard of the watch. Sigrun was curious as to what Velanna could be doing; she knew the elf had been even more prickly than usual since they returned from the Dragonbone Wastes. Velanna had wanted to ally with the Architect; she tried to claim that it would help end the Blights by having a collaborator within the darkspawn, fighting the enemy from within. In reality, she had wanted to side with the Architect in an effort to have her sister, Seranni, freed from the creature's clutches. Velanna had never forgiven Lhiannon and Loghain for not siding with the Architect, calling their views short sighted. Sigrun had agreed with her commanding officers; sentient darkspawn totally reeked of stupid. Velanna was up to something; Sigrun would bet her spyglass and favorite nug roast on it.

Sigrun rose from the bench, sliding her spyglass into its case and keeping to the shadows as she followed Velanna toward the gates. The guard of the watch was patrolling at the far end of the wall and did not see as Velanna cracked open a small man door set within the larger door itself. Sigrun crept closer, her sharp eyes trained on the figure that quickly glided through the opening and stopped in front of Velanna.

It was Seranni.

Sigrun was able to see even from a distance that Seranni was more corrupted than ever before, her skin covered with more dark splotches of the taint and her hands had long talons at the ends of her fingers. She wore a hood, but Sigrun would bet Seranni was nearly bald, the corruption causing large patches of hair to fall out. As Sigrun stared, dumbfounded, Velanna suddenly whirled about and stared into the shadows where Sigrun hid. Sigrun watched as Velanna's eyes narrowed, studying the darkness. Sigrun froze, hardly breathing as the elf's sharp eyes glared at her.

"Sigrun, go back!" the elf snarled quietly. "Go back to Vigil's Keep!"

Epic fail. Sigrun sighed and crept closer, keeping to the shadows as she approached. "Velanna, what in the ancestors' names are you doing? Why is Seranni here?"

Velanna looked at Seranni for a brief moment, imploring her to wait, while she turned back to Sigrun. "Sigrun, look, I must go. You must leave before I have to do something rash."

"Sister, we must hurry," Seranni whispered, glaring at Sigrun. "We are running out of time."

"Velanna, don't do this," Sigrun pleaded, edging ever closer to the elves. Maybe she could talk sense into Velanna. "This reeks of stupid. You need to stay with the Grey Wardens. The Commander would not want to see you sneak off like this, especially with Seranni. You know she is the Architect's creature now. He's crazy, you know. He's only using Seranni for his own purposes."

A sneer crossed Velanna's face; it was filled with such hatred and vitriol that Sigrun gasped. "The Commander is short sighted, Sigrun. She would rather see the Blights continue rather than end them from within, working with the Architect to stop them."

"Oh ancestor's tits, Velanna," Sigrun snapped, snarling at the elves, "you don't get it! The Architect's plan will kill millions, don't you see? The Commander is trying to protect everyone; the Architect's plan will kill everyone eventually!" Sigrun edged closer still, almost within reaching distance of the elves now. If she had to, she would drag Velanna back to the Vigil by the hair and make her see reason. "The Architect won't free your sister, you must know this."

Sneers crossed both elves faces; Seranni's face held a thinly disguised hatred for Sigrun. Velanna's gaze flitted between Sigrun and Seranni before she suddenly raised her staff, the tip glowing ominously. Before Sigrun could react, Velanna swung the staff at her, throwing a spell at the dwarf that knocked her off her feet and into the deep shadows of a nearby building. Sigrun's eyes went wide in disbelief before finally closing. Velanna sensed that Sigrun was unhurt; she would, however, be unconscious for some time and that was what Velanna and Seranni needed.

"I'm sorry, Sigrun," Velanna whispered. "Ancestors guide you." Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Velanna turned toward Seranni; a smile crossed the tainted elf's face and Velanna finally had a sense of true family and true purpose again. Seranni's physical features may be horrific, but inside that corrupted exterior was her sister, pure and unchanged.

"Come, sister," Seranni purred, motioning toward the door. "It is time to go."

Velanna followed Seranni out the door, leaving Vigil's Keep behind.

Ancestor's tits, I never realized my mattress was so hard.

Sigrun awoke, wondering why she was so cold and why her back was screaming in agony. She groaned and rolled onto her side, feeling dampness along her back and legs.

"What the…?"

Sigrun sat up, finally opening her sticky eyes to see that she was sitting on the dewy ground in the shadow of a building near the gate to Vigil's Keep. She rubbed her eyes, hoping to rub the sleep out of them and clear the cobwebs that clung to her mind. After a brief moment, she remembered what happened; Velanna had knocked her out and fled with Seranni.

The moon had traveled a quarter of the sky since the last time Sigrun looked at it. From what she could figure, she had been unconscious for several hours. Velanna and Seranni would be long gone by now. Jumping to her feet, she sprinted back toward the Vigil, taking the steps two at a time in her haste. She entered the halls, quickly brushing by the guards on duty—who gave her a strange look as she passed—and sprinted through the halls. By the time she reached the top of the stairs near Lhiannon and Loghain's offices, the sweat was pouring down her face and neck and her chest felt like her heart would pound its way through it. Sigrun felt anxious about waking the Commander—and especially Loghain—in the middle of the night, but this was a development that could not wait until morning. Thankfully, their quarters were the only ones occupied on this level of Vigil's Keep. With both hands, Sigrun began to pound on the door. "Lhiannon! Loghain! Wake up!"

After a few moments, she heard movement and a growling voice from beyond the door. Oh man, Loghain is going to be so grumpy with me…

It was indeed Loghain that opened the door, his unbraided hair slightly disheveled. Sigrun saw that he was wearing only a pair of sleeping pants, a network of scars she never knew he had crossing his bare chest. As Loghain glared down at her, Sigrun saw Lhiannon come from the doorway to their private chambers, tying the belt of a robe around her waist. Her hair was also disheveled and she was yawning mightily.

"I certainly hope you have good reason to be pounding on our door at such an hour," Loghain growled, glaring at Sigrun as Lhiannon came to his side. She also carried a scowl on her face but after looking at Sigrun, the scowl quickly turned to a look of concern.

"Sigrun, what is it?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"It's Velanna, Lhi," Sigrun panted, her eyes moving from Loghain to Lhiannon. "She's gone."

Yes, there's a lot going on in this chapter, but I needed to get the rest of the story's foundation laid before we start narrowing the focus a bit. It's a long chapter, but I really couldn't break it up. Besides, it may be a week or so before the next one posts; DA2 arrives at my door tomorrow, so I'll be obsessively playing that. Don't worry through, I do have four or five more chapters all but complete and a sixth in progress. I'll still be writing, but it will slow down, I won't lie.

However, my Loghain figurine from Bioware is coming soon, so that will help inspire me to keep writing when I need a break from DA2. ;) I am a shameless Loghain girl!

Special thanks and much love to my awesome reviewers: Shakespira, Aura of Darkness Night, Dante Alighieri, Arsinoe, icey, and Gene. You all are the best and I appreciate you so very much!

Thanks also to all you readers and those who bookmark and favorite the story. I'm grateful to have you along for the ride.