The Hall of the Magisterium was a round, multi-tiered room that echoed with footsteps and the murmur of low voices. Like the exterior, the room was largely made of marble, dark gargoyles with demonic faces looking down from above. The magisters all sat in large, high-backed mahogany chairs, carved so that the backs looked like jagged blades, all piercing the air in concentric semi-circles. Magisters were assigned seats based on their relative stature within the Magisterium. Magisters of lesser houses were seated on higher tiers away from the Senate floor and far from the center; worse were the seats towards the entrance, at the rear of whoever was addressing the court. The center seat, closest to the Senate floor, was reserved for the Archon, and was almost always empty except for the most important of proceedings.

The Pavus seat was three seats to the right of the Archon's chair. It should have been Dorian's by now.

As Dorian entered, he took a deep breath and approached the podium at the center of the Senate floor. There was not always a podium, depending on the type of hearing. Sometimes it was a chair for the accused.

It wasn't long before all of the magisters had gathered. Dorian did not turn to look, but he knew that Relyne was watching as well, standing at a spot for attendants and other non-magisters beside the door. He took another deep breath, the nerves easing from his stomach. He was good at talking. He was born for this. Perhaps not from this side of the podium, but speaking in front of magisters was what he was meant to do.

It would all begin here.

The senior-most magister, sitting just to the right of the Archon's chair, got to his feet and pounded his staff into a metal plate embedded in the floor between his chair and the Archon's. The grizzled old magister was from House Hircus, a prestigious family that was now beginning to lose its standing after his grandchildren were born as non-mages. He hit the metal plate with his staff again, and the Hall came to attention. "The Senate is called to order," he announced in a croaking voice. "We gather today to hear testimony on the Elder One, known as Corypheus; his cult, the Venatori; and the Inquisition that stopped them. Who addresses the Magisterium?

Dorian stepped to the side of the podium and gave a sweeping bow before returning to his place. "I do, my Lord," he said in a ringing voice. The words he had practiced hundreds of times in his youth rolled off his tongue with ease. "Dorian of House Pavus, son of Magister Halward Pavus, and altus of the Circle of Vyrantium. I humbly address the Senate Magisterium to give truthful testimony under the eyes of the Maker."

Magister Hircus gave a short bow of his head. "The Senate will hear Altus Dorian Pavus, under the eyes of the Maker. Please begin."

"Thank you, my Lord." Dorian paused, taking another breath before he began. "My esteemed Lords and Ladies of the Imperial Senate, I come to you today to give my first-hand account of the events involving Corypheus and the Venatori, events that nearly destroyed the world as we know it. Though these events took place primarily within the lands of Southern Thedas, we cannot afford to deny that the involvement of our countrymen has had a lasting impact not only within the South, but carries heavy implications for mighty Tevinter as well.

"It was nearly two years ago now that Corypheus killed hundreds of innocent men and women at the Conclave. He rent the very heavens in the process, causing demons to emerge from the Fade to attack the real world. We now know Corypheus to be one of the original magisters who entered the Golden City, the first of the darkspawn. In the-"

"That is sacrilege!" one of the magisters, Lady Lanatae, interrupted. Her face was framed with fluffs of white hair that poked out of the edges of her black hood and bounced as she spoke.

Dorian shook his head. "Sacrilege or no, Magister Lanatae, this is by his own admission. Before his corruption, he was the High Priest of the Old God Dumat and was imprisoned by Grey Wardens in the centuries that followed. The knowledge that he was a Tevinter pains me as much as it must pain you, my Lady. Nevertheless, he was one of ours." He caught the eye of Magister Amladaris who sat in his chair on the second tier with his lips pressed into a thin line. Dorian closed his eyes and opened them, slowly, once. He remembered the agreement between House Amladaris and the Inquisition. No one would know that Corypheus actually belonged to their house.

"Please continue, Altus Pavus," Magister Hircus said.

"Of course, my Lord." Dorian glanced down at his notes to pick up where he left off. "In the months after the destruction of the Conclave, Corypheus and the Venatori caused untold amounts of destruction, threatening the lives of thousands. I myself witnessed my former mentor, Magister Gereon Alexius, a member of the Venatori, use our experimental time magic in an attempt to eliminate the eventual leader of the Inquisition, Aeric Lavellan." A tiny thrill went through Dorian as he said the name of his amatus, aloud for all the Magisterium. Even though the mention had nothing to do with Dorian, it felt like a small victory somehow, to acknowledge Aeric, to speak of him amongst people who might otherwise deny his importance. "I believe you might remember Altus Felix Alexius speaking to the Magisterium about the Inquisitor?"

The magister to the left of the Archon's chair spoke up. "Yes, Altus Alexius spoke quite highly of this Inquisitor Lavellan," Magister Tarandrus said. "He defeated Magister Alexius… and yet spared his life, yes?"

"That is correct, my Lord," Dorian replied. "And went on further to defeat Corypheus at each of his schemes. Corypheus and the Venatori tried to raise a demon army by corrupting Grey Wardens, attempted to assassinate Empress Celene Valmont of Orlais, and finally worked to claim an elven artifact of power, all in another attempt to enter the Fade and declare himself a god. With Venatori support, he reopened the Breach and nearly pulled all of Thedas into the chasm."

Tarandrus stroked his dark beard thoughtfully. "Until this Inquisitor stopped him."

"Yes, my Lord. However, my purpose here today is not to exalt the Inquisitor's deeds - however noteworthy - but rather to denounce those of the Venatori." Dorian gestured widely to the seats of the Magisterium. "Look around you. There are several empty seats within this Hall. Magisters Alexius and Erimond are only a few of your number who counted themselves amongst the Venatori. For Magister Alexius, it was desperation that drove him to follow Corypheus, who promised him the ability to heal his son. For Magister Erimond, the lure of power and glory was his downfall." And the fact that he was a little shit, Dorian thought to himself.

"In both of their cases," he continued, "and in the cases of all the Venatori magisters no longer here in the Senate today, the promise of power was the bait. The willingness to do anything to attain it was the catalyst in their decision to forsake what was right and turn against sense and morality. Who in their right minds would think it a good idea to tear the world apart, no matter what the reward? All of us live in the world. It should be common sense that our own survival depends on our protecting it."

"Your point, Altus Pavus?" Hircus asked.

Dorian set his shoulders, and when he spoke, his voice rang with passion and conviction. "My point is that it would be easy to excuse these Venatori as insane. But to do so would be to discount the fact that these men who joined the Venatori did so in full knowledge of what they were doing. They were simply corrupt. And while it would be easier, simpler to ignore their corruption, if we truly care about the future of Tevinter, we should do what we can to root it out."

A young magister, seated only three seats to the left of the Archon's chair, scoffed with a slight sneer on his face. Dorian recognized him Julius Anguis, his family's status nearly comparable to that of House Pavus. He was around the same age as Dorian, and must have risen to the magister title within the past few years. Around when Dorian was supposed to, most likely. "Didn't we hear something similar from Maevaris Tilani nearly a year ago?" Anguis drawled.

"Did you, my Lord?" Dorian said idly. Maevaris had told him through letters about her attempt to place limits on Venatori activity, but as he was part of the Inquisition at the time, he wasn't supposed to have shown support of it. She lost much of her standing in the Magisterium as a result of her rebellion. Dorian noticed Maevaris was not in attendance that day; she was likely not even told about the hearing. "I was not in Tevinter at the time, but wasn't Magister Tilani trying to stop the Venatori from spreading throughout Tevinter?"

"More or less," Anguis said with a yawn. "He was trying to punish all of the Magisterium for what a few Venatori magisters tried to do."

Dorian gritted his teeth at the incorrect pronoun and tried to keep his voice level. "From what I understand, she only asked that we better enforce the laws against blood magic and murder already in place. I hardly see what could be so punishing, especially for all the upstanding Tevinter citizens within the Magisterium. You have certainly never participated in blood rituals or murder, have you, my Lord Anguis?"

"Of course not," the magister responded, a touch too quickly.

"Then I fail to see how implementing reforms to already existing laws would affect you directly, my Lord." Dorian cast a smile at Anguis, one he hoped would appear especially cheeky. "In fact, I have trouble seeing why any of the esteemed, law-abiding magisters gathered here might have any qualms about the notion of reform."

Anguis sat up straighter in his chair. "And what paragon of virtue, exactly, is meant to reform mighty Tevinter? You? Magister Tilani? Tell me something, Altus. Please lay to rest the rumors many of us have heard about you."

Dorian swallowed. Here we go.

"Are you, or are you not involved in a romantic relationship with the Inquisitor?" The magister's expression was insufferable in its triumphant arrogance. Dorian wanted to smack it right off of his face.

"Why, Magister Anguis," Dorian said smoothly, adopting an amused expression onto his face. "Were you interested? In me, perhaps, or the Inquisitor? I could send him a letter on your behalf."

Poorly suppressed laughter tittered in echoes throughout the Hall. The young magister grew red in the face. In rage, Dorian supposed, though the man could have been blushing for all he knew. "I desire no such thing!" Anguis spat.

"Apologies, my Lord." Dorian gave a short bow. "I simply did not see how your question was otherwise relevant."

"It is relevant," Anguis said, gathering his calm and haughty demeanor once more. "You presume to educate Tevinter on morality, and implement these unnecessary reforms. Yet if these rumors are to be believed, you have been engaging in lewd and despicable conduct with some knife-eared Southerner."

The second Dorian heard the slur, rage flared within him so hot that his hand itched to take his staff and end the sneering magister then and there. It was an effort to remember where he was, that if he attacked Anguis now, any hope of swaying the Magisterium would be lost. Dorian forced his anger away, to be dealt with later. "Such language, my Lord," Dorian said, forcing a disapproving frown and shaking his head. "I am sorry to see that your education has not been as extensive as mine. I learned at a young age that slurs and name-calling are the playthings of unwashed commoners. How terribly unfortunate."

More hushed laughter rippled through the gathered magisters, some of whom were now looking expectantly at Magister Anguis for his reaction. The magister opened his mouth to speak, his face bright red once more with a vein sticking out on his forehead, but Magister Hircus held up a hand to stop him.

"We have heard quite enough, Magister Anguis," Hircus said, his face unsmiling. "Altus Pavus is quite right in saying that such language is unbecoming of the Magisterium. That you must be reminded of that fact speaks to a lack of the proper maturity one would expect out of a member of the Imperial Senate."

Anguis said nothing, sitting back in his chair with his hands gripping the arm rests. He glowered at Dorian.

"Pardon," the fluffy-haired Magister Lanatae spoke up. "But Altus Pavus did not answer Magister Anguis' question." Her left hand fidgeted at her collar as she spoke; Dorian wondered if she perhaps had actual pearls that she was trying to clutch through her black robes. "Though I disapprove of his language, he does have a point. How can Altus Pavus presume to introduce moral reforms to Tevinter when he himself is not above reproach?"

Hircus directed his gaze toward Dorian. "Altus? If you would care to respond?"

Dorian held his head high as he spoke. "Magister Lanatae, I do not believe there is anyone here who is above reproach of some kind. We all have our faults, after all."

The old woman leaned forward in her chair, her hand still grasping at her collar. "But are the rumors true? Are you engaging in despicable conduct with this Inquisitor?"

Nerves twisted at his stomach. He imagined Aeric beside him, encouraging him with his silent confidence. "I am involved with Inquisitor Lavellan, yes." His voice was steady, even. He was rather proud of himself for that fact. "Whether or not my involvement with him is 'despicable', my Lady Lanatae, is a subjective matter, and would require divulging details that I daresay would be inappropriate in this forum."

A hum of the magisters' chattering voices filled the room. Dorian chanced a glance at his father. Halward Pavus sat in his chair with his hands steepled in front of his face. What the older man felt about his son's public admission, Dorian could not read from his expression.

"How can there be any question?" Lanatae was saying, her voice raised to be heard above the chatter. "Of course that is despicable conduct! It is unnatural!"

Hircus pounded the metal plate with his staff to quiet the Magisterium.

"That is, of course, your opinion, my Lady Lanatae," Dorian said. He looked down at his notes, turning to a page filled with Relyne's handwriting. "However, I fail to see how my personal affairs negate the need for further measures against blood magic, mind control, and murder. There are far worse things, I'm told. Some people…" He glanced down at the notes again. "…perform blood rituals on family members to ensure they gain a seat in the Magisterium. But I am certain we would never find someone like that attending this hearing today, would we, my Lady?"

Magister Lanatae grew pale. "No, Altus Pavus, I suppose not."

After making a mental note to thank Relyne for her information, Dorian directed his attention back towards Magister Hircus. "All I ask for today is that the honorable Magisterium consider my proposal, which my steward will now be handing out to you." He heard movement behind him, of Relyne passing out the copies they had received from the scribes this morning. "Make no mistake: reform in Tevinter is absolutely necessary. Corypheus and the Venatori nearly destroyed the world, and the rest of Thedas look to hold us responsible. If we are to repair our legacy, we must prove ourselves capable of better than what the Venatori have made us out to be. Tevinter is capable of better. Tevinter can rise to the challenge, if only we allow it."

Magister Hircus nodded, then gazed around at his fellow magisters. "We will put it to vote, then. Keep in mind that this is not to accept any changes that Altus Pavus has proposed, only to determine whether such changes should even be considered as necessary. All in favor of possible reforms - to be discussed at a later date - in light of recent events involving the Venatori, please light your staffs."

Glowing light flickered from dozens of staffs all around Dorian, each signaling their agreement. Young magister Anguis' staff was dark, of course, as was that of Magister Tarandrus, the second highest ranking senator. Lady Lanatae had grudgingly lit hers, and Hircus himself had lit his. Dorian was hoping for at least half; the information Relyne had gathered on many of the magisters should swing things in their favor.

There was silence as Hircus counted the lit staffs. Yet as Dorian looked around, trying to count for himself, the number no longer mattered. He caught sight of his father's staff, and it seemed to glow brighter than any other. Dorian smiled at him, the first time he could remember doing so in recent years. He thought he could see a faint smile on his father's face in return.

Hircus slammed the foot of his staff into the metal plate again. "The Magisterium has voted. The majority is in favor of Altus Pavus' reforms: 39 lit to 28 dark." Hircus smiled. "Congratulations, Altus. You may see the Senate Clerk to schedule another hearing to discuss your proposal."

Dorian stepped to the side of the podium and bowed. "My Lord Magister Hircus, my Lords and Ladies of the Magisterium, thank you."

Another two raps of the staff against the plate. "I call this assembly of the Imperial Senate adjourned."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Dorian gathered his notes and turned to leave. He slipped through the crowd of magisters by the exit and found Relyne by the doorway. "Well! That went better than expected!" He smiled.

"You have worked hard for this, Monsieur Pavus," she said, giving him a small smile of her own. "I have worked hard for it as well. I may ask for a raise."

Dorian chuckled. "I'll give it to you if we ever gain anything from this venture of ours. Social activism does not appear to pay well."

"So it would seem." Relyne sighed dramatically.

Dorian was about to respond when someone clipped him hard in the shoulder. Rubbing the spot where he had been hit, he looked up to see who it was, and was unsurprised to find that it had been Anguis, already halfway down the hall. "Fucking culus…" Dorian muttered under his breath.

Relyne stared down the hall where Anguis had been; he had now disappeared around a corner. "Watch out for that one," she whispered. "He appears to take his damaged pride quite seriously. And you wounded him twice in front of his peers today."

"Oh, he'll likely send assassins after me," Dorian said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's like sending a fruit basket in these parts, only with fewer apples and more daggers."

"You do like making work for me, Monsieur."

ooo

Dearest Amatus,

We won! That is, the Magisterium agreed to talk about my reform proposal further, rather than throwing it out straightaway. Time will tell if anything truly comes of this, but for today, a victory is a victory. I can hardly believe it.

They asked about us, you know. It was meant to shame me, to degrade me in the eyes of the Magisterium. Perhaps for some of them, their opinion of me has degraded. Yet, I think for the first time, I felt unashamed. I told them the truth, and I feel different. Liberated, maybe. Perhaps this sounds strange to you, because very few people care about this sort of thing down South. I cannot comprehend growing up in such a society, where you're different, but that's… all right? Normal? Such a novelty. At any rate, I doubt I would have had the courage to remain true to myself if it were not for you. I know you're not here, but I still carry you with me, in a fashion. Knowing you're out there somewhere, caring for me the way that you do, gives me strength. So, thank you.

I think my father might have smiled at me during the hearing. He seemed almost… proud. I didn't get the chance to speak with him afterward, but it was something. I'm still not sure whether I can ever forgive him for what he tried to do to me, but I don't think I'm as angry as I was. Still furious, merely… less so.

Anyway, this day has been exhausting, and I am - for once - eager to talk about something other than myself for a time. I think I'll have some wine to celebrate and listen to Relyne not tell me stories. I'm still a tad bitter about the no-stories-thing. Could you tell?

I miss you.

Yours,

Dorian