"I have arranged a summit with Empress Celene and the Tevinter Archon." Ruya leaned on the war table. She didn't miss Duncan's wince. "Ferelden cannot do this alone, your majesty."

"My father's ashes weren't cold when Celene sent people to 'annex' Haven." Duncan shook his head.

"Gavren just sent word from Kirkwall." Kels spoke up. "Viscount Varric has pledged his full support. Lord Lukas has also sent word from Ostwick. The Duke isn't sure he believes, but your brother was apparently quite persuasive."

"Kal'Hirol stands with us." Duncan nodded. "And Paragon Brosca has pledged his full support as well. Warden-Commander Saitada is also with us."

"Good to know. I..." She trailed off as the door opened.

Duncan immediately smiled. "Kieran."

"Duncan." Kieran nodded to him before looking at the Inquisitor. "You know the group killing slavers on the border between Tevinter and Nevarra?"

"Yes." Ruya nodded.

"I found him." Kieran gestured and an elven man followed him into the room. He was dressed in sentinel armor, and his vallaslin marked him as Mythal's. She narrowed her eyes just a little, noting he bore an odd resemblance to Solas.

Duncan's eyes widened. "Tisallan." His smile started to fade. "And the others?" When Kieran shook his head, Duncan closed his eyes for a moment. "Damn."

#

Duncan gestured for Tisallan to follow him into his office. "Kieran told you what happened?"

"You traveled to an alternate past, and there encountered me." Tisallan clasped his hands behind his back and watched Duncan calmly.

"That more or less sums it up." Duncan nodded. "I've seen you in action. It was pretty damn impressive." He took a deep breath. "I'd like to make you an offer."

"You have enemies that require killing." Tisallan nodded.

"Yes, but that's not the offer." Duncan folded his arms. "You were a teacher once. In that past, you taught us some, enough for me to know as good as you are in the field it's a waste of your talents." He gestured at some parchment on the table. "The Arl of Denerim's manor stands vacant. I'd like to give it to you, to use as a school."

Tisallan raised an eyebrow. "You wish me to train warriors. Dirth'ena enasalin."

"I wish you to teach." Duncan shook his head. "I saw what your people tried to do for Lord Hendry. The thought of all that being lost quite frankly makes me sick." He met Tisallan's eyes. "The last Mi'nehn of the Sulanvhen. The school is yours. What you teach, and whom, is your decision."

For a moment, Tisallan stood there quietly. Then he nodded, and pressed his palms together before bowing. "I accept your offer, my king. I will require books, parchment, and training weapons."

"You'll have your own quartermaster and considerable funds." Duncan smiled. "Lenore Amell may be your best source for books."

"I will also need to return briefly to Starkhaven."

"To Starkhaven?" Duncan blinked.

A small smile came to Tisallan's face. "Hidden is not the same as lost."

#

"You really have gone mad this time, haven't you?"

Duncan turned to see Sallah Gilmore staring at him, disappointment all over her face. "Mother Sallah." He bowed. "I was not expecting you."

"No. Because sense and reason aren't expected in these halls." She folded her arms. "You really expect anyone to believe this cockamamie story you've got my brother parroting?"

"Sallah..."

"Are you really that desperate to live up to your father and grandfather's legends?" Sallah pointed at him. "It's alright to just rule Ferelden, you know. It's enough, really."

"You're out of line." He drew himself up.

"Don't play king at me." She glared. "I changed your diapers." Her eyes softened only slightly. "You've done a lot, Duncan. You don't have to keep on this."

"It's real, Sallah. It happened." He gestured. "Would I have Gavren Rutherford and Leandra Hawke in the guest wing for anything less than the end of the world?"

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "It can't be true. The Veil was repaired. The Maker sent the Herald. He would not allow demons to undo that work."

"They aren't exactly demons." Duncan took a deep breath. "Kieran -"

"It started a Blight." She was glaring again. "And you're going to drag my brother into this mess."

"No one drags Jerath anywhere." Duncan shook his head. "I pity anyone stupid enough to try."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you'll bring down on yourself with this?" Sallah's eyes were wet. "Does he have to die before you stop to think?"

He felt his blood go cold. Jerath had died for him, because he'd acted without thinking. That he was back was a miracle. "I don't want him hurt anymore than you do, Sallah. He's my best friend."

"And you will follow in your father's footsteps." A tear came from her eye. "Even it if means he follows in ours." She turned, and stormed out of his office.

Duncan sighed, then jumped when another voice entered the room. "I'm sorry."

He turned to see a slight elven man leaning against the wall. "Excuse me?"

"Your parents, and Ser Gilmore. I would have saved them if I could. I am sorry I could not." The man nodded. "And sorry as well, for the burden you must now bear."

His eyes widened. "You're The Warden." He swallowed. "Forgive me, my lord. I did not recognize you."

"I am no lord. And this is your castle." He shook his head. "The cracks spread far. They may even be what weakened the seals on Corypheus's prison. Stopping the event now will not undo the damage, but it will enable us to fix it."

"The Formless One." Duncan swallowed. "It said Varla was its apprentice."

"I had wondered where she got her orb." The Warden twitched a shoulder. "Mythal has it now. And you helped Kieran recover another. Thank you."

"I..." Duncan turned as Jerath entered.

"Your majesty?" Jerath raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to find him meeting with someone.

It occurred to Duncan that The Warden probably hadn't announced himself to the guards. He half turned. "Jerath this is..." Then he blinked as he stared at The Warden, abruptly remembering what the man's actual name was. "Uh..."

"My namesake." The Warden nodded. "A pleasure."

Jerath's eyes went wide, and he bowed. "It's an honor to meet you, my lord."

"I'm not a lord." The Warden smiled. "I got out of that whole Arl thing years ago." He nodded to Duncan. "You will not be alone in this, King of Ferelden. Call, and we will answer." He turned and vanished into the shadows.

He found himself leaning on the edge of his desk, then gave a small shake of his head. "It's funny."

"Duncan?" Jerath raised an eyebrow.

"We ran around with Urthemiel for months and..." He took a deep breath, and laughed a little. "And yet somehow meeting The Warden was different."

Jerath gave one of his rare smiles. "I remember Father telling the story about The Warden and your mother breaking him out of Fort Drakon."

"All of them stark naked." Duncan started laughing. "I know the one."

#

"Pela..." Wynne turned to look at the qunari woman. "My husband has gone stupid again."

"I'll fetch the rope." Pela shrugged.

Loghain rubbed his forehead. "You know, I am actually being serious here."

"You lead Gwaren's military." Wynne folded her arms. "And normally, you do a halfway decent job."

"Are you suggesting that the task is more than you can handle?" Loghain raised an eyebrow at her.

"Pela..." Wynne's eyes narrowed.

"Got it here." She held up a coil of rope, then glanced at Loghain. "You know, you really did just sort of ask for it right there."

He just smiled as Wynne grabbed him by the front of his tunic and started dragging him toward the bed.

#

"You can't really believe this." Sallah glared. "Some demon hauls you into the Fade and..."

"It wasn't the Fade, Sallah." Jerath shook his head. "And He is not a demon."

"It started a Blight." Sallah folded her arms. "In blackest envy were demons born."

"And The Warden?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Is He a demon?"

"The Warden died, and a demon took his place." Sallah took a deep breath. "Just because you were named after him..."

"Sallah..." He couldn't help but wonder how she'd react to know that The Warden had been in the palace just an hour ago.

"Bad enough you risk your life. Must you also risk your soul?" Sallah put a hand on his shoulder. "You're my brother, Jerath. You..."

"I died." His voice was quiet. He hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"What?" She blinked.

"When we were taken back. I died. I..." He could still feel the sensation of the lyrium warrior clutching his heart. "I died. I remember it."

"Jerath..."

"And when the darkness closed in, it wasn't the Maker who was with me." Urthemiel's presence in his mind, apologetic and comforting, blocking the pain from reaching him. The lyrium warrior's eyes had gone dark when he'd stopped screaming. He met his sister's eyes, and knew she'd never understand. "It wasn't the Fade, Sallah."

"It had to be." She shook her head. "On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight." She took another deep breath. "Three times I've come to Denerim, terrified you'd be dead before I arrived. You should have married Anya and..."

"She left me, in case you've forgotten." Jerath pushed her hand off his shoulder. "I'm not a child, Sallah. And I don't recall asking for your guidance."

"No. You never ask. You just follow without question. No matter how much trouble he leads you to. And our bloodline will die with you."

"If it's children you want, I'm sure you can head to the Pearl and find some -" He was cut off by her slapping him.

They stared at each other for several heartbeats. Sallah spoke first. "You have a duty to this family."

"I have a duty to my king." He narrowed his eyes. "You chose your path. And I chose mine." He turned and walked away.

#

He looked up when the door opened, and then started. "Hahren." Next to Gavren, Leandra's eyes widened.

Solas nodded. "Da'len. Your mother has told me some of what befell you. I have a few questions."

"I'm sure you do." Gavren nodded. He narrowed his eyes. "In that alternate world, you tried going after my father to force my hand."

"I have difficulty imagining circumstances that would have led me to do harm to General Cullen." Solas frowned.

Gavren smiled. "Well, considering trying resulted in you getting your ass handed to you by no less than your own little brother, I think we'll let bygones be."

"Then you know?" Solas actually looked surprised.

Leandra shrugged. "The Kieran of the past made a pretty good point. We remember everything that happened, everything said by your agents that we captured and interrogated..." She leaned back. "And everything Tisallan told us of you over a considerable span of time."

"And you don't." Gavren's own smile widened. "Now, you had some questions?"

For a moment, Solas just looked at them. Then he smiled.

#

"Bad enough the Divine carries on an affair with an elven savage, but she lets their heretical cult fester."

"Isn't your mother an elf?" Sister Eliza raised an eyebrow at Sallah.

"My mother is a good Andrastian." Sallah glared. Then she sighed. "And they've turned the king away."

"And your brother?" The Grand Cleric asked. "Can you sway him?"

"I tried." She sighed. "And I will keep trying. He's a good man, he just..."

"He has just been taught to put his duty to king before his duty to the Maker." The Grand Cleric nodded. "Keep trying, child. Perhaps they can both yet be returned to grace."

#

He looked up at the sound of boots stomping their way toward his office, and winced. A few moments later, his sister slammed his door open. Wynne narrowed her eyes. "Since when do you and my husband get along?"

Duncan chuckled. "How much has he told you?"

"Considering Pela and I tied him to the bed and questioned him for six hours -"

"Gah." Duncan winced. "Wynne!"

"I presume everything. Did you really ride off on the back of a dragon?" Wynne folded her arms. "Crazy stuff. But with folks working together, we might just have a shot." She gestured at the young elven woman that had accompanied her. "This is Maylina. Caronel and Valya's eldest. She's gonna study with that Tisallan fellow."

"Ultimately, that's up to Tisallan." Duncan nodded. "I've given him the old Arl of Denerim's estate to use as a school."

"Well, it's burned down a few times. The neighbors should be used to it by now."

"I'm considering moving them out to Crestwood. Get them a bit more room."

She was silent for a moment. "You got to see them again."

He didn't have to ask who she meant. "Father. I spoke to Mother using one of the communication crystals."

"What..." She sighed. "I don't even know what to ask."

"He yelled at me about my language." He looked down at his hands. "I told the Kieran of that world everything that happened. He promised he'd do all he could to save them."

"You trust him?"

"Yes."

"Said that pretty fast." Wynne raised an eyebrow.

"Might have hesitated if you'd been talking about the one from this world, but my answer would have been the same." He shook his head. "This war may be bigger than just the qunari."

Wynne straightened up, and smirked. "Don't worry. Your little sister is here to save you. Loghain turned over command of Gwaren's soldiers to me while he rides with the Order."

#

"I'm sorry."

Jerath looked up to see Sallah in the door of his room. He sighed. "I know."

She entered, and touched her hand to his scarred cheek. "I just worry."

"I know that too."

"You've been fighting his battles for him all his life, Jerath." Sallah sighed, and put her hand on his arm. "And you didn't fight for Anya. You don't fight for yourself. You can have your own life."

"Sallah, I'm a general. Every soldier in Ferelden reports to me." He put his hand atop hers. "I haven't been just his bodyguard in years."

"I know. But you're still my little brother." She smiled. "And in a way, so is he." She sighed. "I hear he went to speak with the Divine."

"And the Inquisitor."

"To discuss your..." She shook her head. "The Grand Cleric does not approve of young Rutherford being here. His association with that..."

"Gavren's good people."

"Jerath..."

"I trust him." Jerath patted her hand. "And you know how few I say that of."

"I suppose." She gave him a dubious look. "He is the son of Andraste's Herald. We should ensure he is not lured away from the Maker. But that just makes its presence a greater threat."

"It?" Jerath raised an eyebrow.

"That demon. The one that calls itself an old god."

"Kieran is not an 'it'." Jerath shook his head and stepped away from her. "Nor is He a demon."

"Jerath."

"Sallah..." He made himself take several deep breaths. "Get out of my room."

"Jerath..."

"Get..." He said the words through clenched teeth. "Out."

#

Ruya took a deep breath before exchanging a look with Josephine. Negotiations weren't going well. Ferelden and Orlais were not allies, and it was clear that all the Empress saw when she looked at Ferelden's king was a young boy in need of manners. Teyrna Mac Tir handled most of the diplomatic affairs for Ferelden, but the woman was old and had recently taken ill. Leaving the king to speak for himself.

King Duncan may have been a skilled warrior and a good leader for Ferelden, but here in Val Royeaux it was clear he was far out of his depth. Dorian was doing his best, but thanks to Celene's manipulations it was clear Duncan had already alienated the Archon. She was trying to figure out how she and Josephine could salvage the situation when Celene riled Duncan yet again.

"I won't deny Orlais and Tevinter have contributed much to Thedas." Duncan squared his shoulders. "Slavery, Blight, the subjugation of the elves, questionable fashion choices, and abusive mage circles. Why, it only took Tevinter two centuries to put down a Blight, and Orlais four decades."

"Young man..." Celene drew herself up.

"I remember my history, Empress. Perhaps you should remember yours. When the Maker chose his prophet, it wasn't among the perfumed nobles that he searched. The Chantry was born in Orlais." Duncan met her eyes. "But the gods were born in Ferelden." He raised his voice. "Urthemiel."

"I think we have heard..." The Archon started to stand.

The crowd gasped. Through the windows, they could see the clouds had begun swirling. A moment later, a massive dragon emerged, wings glimmering golden. It circled the courtyard and descended, eliciting various screams. And a heartbeat before the dragon would have landed on the balcony, it shifted into a tall, handsome man in elegant robes. Green light swirled around him, and seemed to trail from his eyes as Urthemiel walked directly to King Duncan. "Your Highness." He gave a small bow. "You called?"

The chamber fell utterly silent.

She swallowed as she looked at the faces around them, realized what it was they were seeing. Evening knowing as much as she did, it was hard to believe. For centuries, the world had cried out to the gods, and all prayers had gone unanswered. Temples and shrines, obeisance and sacrifice, and no answer had come. The King of Ferelden, this upstart boy, child of a bastard king of a barbaric land, had called.

And a god had answered.