Notes: Hey look! Not an entire month between updates! Hallelujah!

The OC mentioned in this chapter belongs to sirius123. You will be seeing a lot of Altan in the future.

If you celebrate it, have a happy and safe 4th! Don't blow any body parts off, all right? If you don't celebrate, have a happy and safe Monday…? Sure, we'll go with that.

0w0Arr and LOVE THIS STORY: Thank you!

Chapter 7: The start of a plan

There's something both comforting and frustrating about being in a room full of arguing Thedosians again. I never had access to the Haven war room before, but it still brings about a sense of nostalgia. That sliver of familiarity is probably the only thing keeping me from lashing out. The arguments have become circuitous and it's grating on my nerves. I want to beg them to assign me something, to let me help somehow, because doing nothing will definitely kill me.

And now I'm being melodramatic.

In an attempt to calm down and re-center, I let the voices fade and lose myself in my thoughts.

I've been summarily filled in on the events of the past few years. We defeated an Avaar god, went inside a Titan, and stopped a Qunari invasion. What have you been up to? As if an elven god hell-bent on bringing about Ragnarok wasn't enough.

Speaking of, Solas has apparently gained a lot of support. By Leliana's estimation, he most likely has an entire army of elves at his disposal. I have to wonder what he needs with an army. I don't have to wonder how he pulled them all in. He's certainly done so before and I'm sure many elves were keen to leave behind their poor living conditions for the promise of more.

I've been told there's unrest everywhere. People have a vague idea of what's happening and they've taken that sliver of knowledge and run with it. Rumors abound and, predictably, nobody seems to be handling it well. Panic has started to sink its claws in and nothing good could come of that.

"… you think, Rhynn?"

I blink, drawn out of my thoughts at the sound of my name. "Huh?"

"What do you think?" Aila asks. When I continue to just stare at her, she rolls her eyes and adds, "The Blight. Do you have any information?"

I hesitate, rocking on my heels and looking at each of them in turn. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Aila looks incredulous. "Of course! We need all the information we can get. Why would we not want to know?"

"Because what I have to say contradicts a major part of your religion."

Aila pauses, contemplating, before she nods.

I wipe a hand over my mouth, a bit nervous. "I wasn't able to do a ton of research while I was home, but from what I could find, it seems like Titans are the source."

The others look at each other and then at me. "You mean to say it wasn't Tevinter Magisters?" Cullen finally asks.

"No… Perhaps they helped spread the Blight, but they were never the cause."

Everyone but Bull and Cole look shocked and a bit lost. I suppose anyone would be after having their faith shaken.

"It sings, but no one answers," Cole murmurs quietly.

But why does no one answer? We lock eyes and I know he heard. Before he can answer, though, Aila speaks up again.

"Okay," she says and takes a deep breath. "Okay. We can work with that. Anything else? Maybe how to cure it?" she asks hopefully.

"I'm afraid not…"

"That's fine. It's more than we had before." She looks distressed, however, stretched thin. She looks at Leliana. "Any luck finding Solas?"

The former spymaster shakes her head sadly. "Still no, I'm afraid. And it doesn't appear we will find him any time soon."

I frown. I expected such, but it's still frustrating. If I could only talk to him…

"Then what can we do?" I ask. "There have to be things we can do in the meantime." Please!

"What about Orlais?" Cullen suggests. "They must be reigned in."

At my confused look, Aila adds, "They've started targeting Dalish clans."

I make a disgusted noise and curl my lip. Aila solemnly nods in agreement.

"Let's not forget Tevinter," Bull says, crossing his large arms.

"Tevinter?" I inquire, knowing a good portion of the fourth game supposedly took place there.

"Magisters have begun sacrificing their slaves en masse for the sake of powerful protection spells," Leliana explains. "Dorian keeps us informed as best he can and continues to try to be the voice of reason, along with a group of supporters, but it is not enough."

"Send me there," I demand.

Leliana and Aila share a look. Aila shrugs. "Cullen and I could travel to Orlais, try to garner support."

"Maryden and I can go with you," Cole offers and Aila agrees, thanking him.

Maryden? Cole just smiles.

Leliana fixes me under her stare. "You cannot just walk right into Tevinter." One does not simply walk into Mordor. "We will need a plan. Allow me to contact Dorian and we will discuss this again soon."

I nod, even though I feel like crawling out of my skin at the thought of waiting.

As if noticing my state, Leliana then says, "In the meantime, let me show you to the clinic."

A long, uneventful week passes wherein I sleep very little. And when I do, my dreams are nothing but flashes of color and smudged images. I no longer feel as if I'm being watched. I'm not sure how to feel about it.

Reintegrating with the others is… strange. None of them seem outwardly upset with me, but there's an underlying tension I can't dismiss. I don't blame them… not really. But I decide it's probably best if I spend most of my time alone. Cole is the exception, of course. I think he knew about Solas, too. It makes me feel better until I realize we may be the only two who are worried about Solas himself. Aila might, but she seems… preoccupied.

I mostly stay in my room and read or help out in the clinic. We're not allowed on the surface except on sanctioned patrols and there's nothing sanctioned about me. Cole comes to visit a few times. Well, when I say visit I mean he appears randomly, usually scaring the shit out of me. We talk some, as much as it's possible to have a coherent conversation with the spirit boy. He tells me about Maryden, though, and their travels together, about the people they've helped. He seems happy; it's nice to hear.

It seems like an eternity before another meeting is called. I nearly pounce on Leliana when she enters.

"Any word from Dorian?" I ask eagerly.

She gives me a look reminiscent of a patient mother. It looks weird on her angular face. "Yes, and a plan for getting you into the country has been put in place."

I nod and lean forward, waiting impatiently for her to continue.

"Dorian has a contact from the Imperium that is willing to take you on as his… bodyguard."

I frown. "Slave bodyguard?"

She shakes her head delicately. "No. There will be no need for you to pose as a slave. We have others in place for that task." She pushes a few pieces of parchment towards me. At a glance, they seem to be information regarding someone named –

"Altan Aubericus," Leliana says, gesturing toward the paper in my hand. "Dorian's contact. A mage of the Laetan class with holdings of adequate size. He arrived in Fereldan a few years ago but is readying for his return to Tevinter. It would not be unusual for him to return with a few more slaves and a new bodyguard."

I start to smile.

"As his bodyguard, you will have freedoms my agents will not. While my people are confined to their roles as slaves, they may gather information from behind the scenes. Under dire circumstances, they may even be able to run interference. However, you will have nearly unlimited access to the upper classes of Tevinter society. Wherever Aubericus goes, you follow. We have very little information about the situation over there. The most we can do is get you in as safely as possible. From there, it is up to you to assess the situation and relay whatever details you can gather. Unfortunately, communication will be limited. We can contact neither you nor Dorian easily without raising suspicion or risking our letters being intercepted. Understood?"

I tamp down my grin and nod solemnly. "Understood. When do I leave?"

"In three days," Leliana responds. "You will first travel to Kirkwall and meet with Varric. He knows a ship captain who is willing to take you to Tevinter and remain on standby once there."

A ship captain, hmm? I wonder…

"Sounds like a plan," I say, unable to fully contain my smile at the thought of finally doing something.

Leliana smirks back, "The start of one."

Cullen suddenly makes a choking noise from the other side of the table and I glance over to find him turning bright red and staring in horror at a page of one of the lore books. I look closer and nearly choke myself. It's a lovingly detailed sketch of a penis in Sharpie, complete with pubic hair, veins, and all.

Oh God, Trix. Why.

Three days later, I'm packed and ready to go. Leliana finally gave me my weapons back and I have them strapped tight to my body and hidden under my dad's leather jacket. I'm leaving my more conspicuous clothing items behind. Well, most of them anyway. My Firefly shirt is tucked away safely at the bottom of my bag. Just in case. I'm also leaving my lore books behind for Leliana to use. I've read them so many times now, anyway, I have them practically memorized.

I say my goodbyes to Bull and Aila, give Cole an awkward hug. Cullen and Leliana both nod and wish me luck in their own way.

As I'm climbing on my horse, I remember something. "Leliana, where's my violin?" I ask, already suspecting the answer.

A dark look passes over her face. "It was in my possession, but…"

"Solas," I finish for her. She nods, glaring into the distance. "Find him, Leliana," I say fiercely and we lock eyes, silently communicating our mutual determination. "I would very much like my stuff back."

The journey from the mountains to the ocean takes days. There are a few people from Haven travelling with me. They're simply guides, though, and will leave me at the docks.

The trip is uneventful and soon enough I'm boarding a ship bound for Kirkwall. It's strange, knowing I'll be setting foot in the fabled city. It's sure to look next to nothing like the game, but I wonder if it will seem familiar all-the-same? I'm also looking forward to seeing Varric again. While interaction with the others has become awkward, I know the friendly dwarf will be nothing but welcoming.

Ship travel in Thedas is less than ideal. By that I mean it's fucking awful. I spend the first few days puking my guts out. Nights are spent in a mild state of paranoia as I huddle against the wall in a room full of strangers and drift in and out of consciousness. Leliana sent some food with me, but my only choice for protein is basically meat-flavored salt. Fuck Thedas and its fear of magic. A preservation spell would take way less time and I could be eating something that actually tastes edible. Let's just say I rely a little too much on my ration packs, which I cram into my mouth quickly in the darkest corner I can find, lest someone see and demand that I share. By the time we reach Kirkwall, I've become desensitized to my own rancid smell; probably to all smells in general.

I'm on the upper deck when the guy in the crow's nest first spots land. The call has me sighing with relief.

Finally!

A little while later, I can finally see it. Kirkwall. As we get closer, I take in the different levels of the city. Hightown, Lowtown… what were the others? It looks like they've built a new chantry where the previous one used to be. It sits like an angel on top of a squat, fat Christmas tree, gleaming in the evening sun. I lose sight of it as we near the docks. Then I see only the brown of dirt walls and unwashed locals. Amongst this, Varric is like a beacon in his red velvet shirt.

I can't contain my smile when I see him. God, it's been too long.

I wait impatiently for our small ship to dock and for the crewmen to lay down the gangplank. I'm the first off. My backpack is my only possession and I keep it with me at all times. I hurry down the dock toward Varric, a big smile on my face. There's some guy standing next to him, but I don't care at the moment.

"Varric, you beautiful bastard! You're a sight for sore eyes!" I throw my arms out, getting ready to hug the shit out of him.

"Welcome to Kirkwall, Torpin," he greets, but something's wrong. Torpin? Not Princess? He's stepping back and the smile he gives me is too tight… forced.

No… Not him, too.

After a painful second, I let my arms drop. My smile stays in place, but it's forced now too.

"Follow me," Varric says. "You'll be staying in The Hanged Man, laying low until our Tevinter friend shows up."

Straight to business, then. Okay, I can do that.

"And when will that be?"

He shrugs. "Sometime this week."

"Very specific," I mumble and follow the rest of the way in silence. I get that not telling everyone about a secret elven god was a bit shitty, but I never expected Varric to act this way. I blink rapidly and put on my best apathetic face.

We walk a fairly short distance and then we're there… at The Hanged Man. The Hanged Man. I have to pause just inside the door to take it all in. It actually looks quite a bit like I remember, right down to the ominous bloodstains on the floor. Thank goodness video games don't include Smell-O-Vision, though, because shit biscuits this place reeks!

The act of plugging my nose and gagging pulls a small smile out of Varric, at least. "You'll get used to the smell," he assures. To prove his point, he takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh of mock-contentment. Then he waves over a woman carrying a mug in each hand. "Norah here can show you to your room. I've got a meeting to attend." He groans quietly, rubbing a hand over his face and leaving me with the woman.

"Let me just deliver these drinks first," she says and walks off to a table in the corner. Then she beckons me to follow and heads up the stairs.

The fist room at the top is Varric's, if I recall. The door is closed and I wonder if he still spends much time here or if his new job keeps him away.

Varric the Viscount. Weird.

"Here we are, love," Norah announces, gesturing toward a door at the end of the hall.

"Thanks," I say, pushing it open. When I glance back, she's already gone. Fine by me. I'm not exactly feeling like company anymore.

I sigh and walk into the room only to freeze in place.

Is that…?

Sitting smack dab in the center of the room is a big copper tub with water in it. Steam rises off of it and swirls up toward the high ceiling. I don't even question it. I just toss my bag on the bed and start ripping my clothes off like a mad woman before quickly climbing into the tub and sinking below the surface.

Oh fuck yes.

I'm like a snake shedding its skin with the way the grime sloughs off of me in the hot water. It feels phenomenal and I start to relax in spite of myself. I notice a bar of soap on the floor next to me. I scoop it up and start scrubbing. As I wash, I wonder about this lovely surprise. I doubt it comes standard with a room at The Hanged Man. This doesn't seem like a continental-breakfast-type establishment. So that implies someone ordered it for me and the list of suspects isn't long.

Maybe not all hope is lost. I smile a little.

Still, things aren't exactly great right now. I mean, I didn't expect sunshine and rainbows, but… my friends don't trust me anymore, my friends-with-benefits-turned-love-of-my-life is trying to destroy the world, and people are being stupid fucks about it (no surprise there).

And now I'm grumpy again.

Awareness that I'm dreaming and that someone is standing behind me come simultaneously. I don't have to turn around to know who it is.

"Kirkwall?" he asks, voice giving nothing away.

"Keeping tabs, are we?" I snipe.

"What are you doing, Rhynn?" he tries instead.

I turn around to find him standing much closer than I expected. It sends a frisson of… something up my spine. "Why should I tell you?" I lift an eyebrow and run my eyes over him. He's dressed in his hobo apostate garb. Something tells me that's not how he dresses for his troops, though.

"What do you hope to accomplish in Kirkwall?"

"An answer for an answer," I challenge. "Tell me where you are and I'll tell you what I'm up to."

Solas and I narrow our eyes at each other.

"Why must you be so stubborn?" His hands clench at his sides.

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. "Oh, I'm the stubborn one?"

His expression turns hard. "This is not your fight, Rhynn."

I jut my chin out, blood beginning to boil. "You made it my fight!"

He makes a sound of frustration and turns, pacing a few steps away and pausing with his back to me. "Please, just leave, Rhynn," he begs, almost inaudible.

I sigh. "Solas… even if I wanted to, I can't. Not until the buzzing starts."

He looks back at that. "I assumed…"

"That because I made it back here, then I must be in control of my fabulous superpowers?" I finish for him. "Yeah, no."

His expression looks pinched before he quickly glances away. "I see."

"Do you?" I scoff. "Because I don't think you do." I pause, considering. "I made it home, Solas," I admit quietly.

He blinks at me, obviously a bit shocked.

"My dad's dead."

"I'm – "

"Shut up. My dad's dead, but my brother is still alive. He has a wife and a daughter now and they're really goddamn happy. They were even happier to have me back. I was happy! But then my friend tells me you plan to kill a bunch of people, so I haul my ass back here. Not just because I care about the people you plan to murder, but because I care about you, you asshole! I left my home and family behind to help you! Just keep that in mind as you get ready to end the lives of millions of people. Because that's what they are, Solas. People. And they have the same right to life as you do."

And then I wrench myself forcefully out of my own dream and into the waking world, wanting to leave him frustrated and confused for once.