Matril looked down at the map. "Loghain and Hawke headed in this direction. They'll report back as soon as they have anything." He looked up at his advisers. "We scouted a few camps. Harding has the report and is getting them supplied."

"Some of our scouts recently went missing in this area." Cullen indicated the map. "I've soldiers out searching now."

"Here is hoping it won't be a repeat of the situation with the Blades of Hessarian." Matril sighed, then raised an eyebrow. "Have there been any further difficulties?"

"On the contrary, they are working out quite well." Cullen nodded. "They've already dealt with some Venatori along the coast for us, and sent back some useful supplies."

"Good to hear." He glanced at his other advisers. Leliana was frowning at some of her papers. "Let me know if there is anything else."

"Of course." Josephine smiled at him.

#

"Mother Giselle." He bowed to her.

"My lord Inquisitor, it's good of you to speak with me." She sighed. I have news regarding one of your..." She hesitated a moment. "Companions. The Tevinter."

"Is that a note of distaste I detect, Mother Giselle?" Matril raised an eyebrow at her.

"I..." She took a deep breath. "Admit his presence here makes me uncomfortable, Inquisitor, but my feelings are of no importance. I have been in contact with his family: House Pavus, out of Qarinus. Are you familiar with them?"

"He's mentioned his family." Matril nodded. "They don't appear to be on good terms."

"Yes. I believe you're correct." Mother Giselle held up a folded piece of parchment. "The family sent a letter describing the estrangement from their son and pleading for my aid. They've asked to arrange a meeting. Quietly, without telling him. They fear it's the only way he'll come." The hairs on the back of his neck rose slightly, but he didn't otherwise react. "Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I'd hoped..."

"May I see the letter?" He raised an eyebrow and she handed it over. "I'm not overly inclined to trick someone into meeting with their family..."

She sighed. "I feared you might say that. The family will send a retainer to meet the young man at the Redcliffe tavern to take him onward. If he truly does not wish this reunion, he can always end the matter there." She looked up at him. "I pray you change your mind, Inquisitor. Perhaps their letter will persuade you. If there is any chance of success in this, it behooves us to act."

He unfolded the letter as he headed into the rotunda, stopping in the doorway to read it. Then he frowned, and headed up the stairs.

#

Dorian leaned on one of the columns as he glared at the bookshelf. Despite his best efforts, the Inquisition's small library still a mess. Of course, it didn't help that whenever a new crate of books was delivered the contents were merely shoved haphazardly wherever the servants could find room. He sighed, then saw the Inquisitor coming up the stairs. The day was starting to look up. "I could watch you roam Skyhold all day." He waved a hand. "Here and there you run, checking in on your followers. Why don't they come to you, feed you grapes, rub your shoulders?" He shrugged. "I suppose it's more fun this way. For me, I mean. You're rather strapping."

A small smile came to the Inquisitor's face. "I've noticed you're rather strapping, yourself."

"Of course you have." Dorian returned the smile. "That only takes eyes."

"Luckily, I have those."

"You do. A rather fetching pair." They were a deep emerald green, like trees in the flush of summertime. Ah, and now he was waxing poetic. "At any rate, you didn't pass by to hear me fawn. Something on your mind?"

"Dorian..." The Inquisitor held up a piece of parchment. "There's a letter you need to see."

"A letter?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?"

"Not quite." The Inquisitor offered him the parchment. "It's from your father."

He stared at it as though it were a poisonous serpent. "From my father. I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"

"A meeting."

Dorian snatched the letter out of the other man's hand and opened it.

#

Matril watched Dorian read the letter. The earlier cheer was gone from his face as he glared at the parchment. He shook it angrily as he looked back up at Matril. "I know my son? What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble." He made a frustrated sound. This is so typical." He smacked the parchment with his other hand. "I'm willing to bet this 'retainer' is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me to Tevinter."

"That would be hard to do while I stood there." Matril shook his head. Dorian had come to help them. He was not about to let anyone drag him off.

"He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle, although Maker knows why he'd think I would." Dorian gave a decisive nod. "Let's go. Let's meet this so-called 'family retainer'. If it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone." He waved a hand. "You're good at that. If it's not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wit's end.'"

"There appears to be some bad blood between you and your family." Family squabbles could be brutal. He shoved the memories away.

Dorian laughed. "Interesting turn of phrase." He shrugged. "But you're correct. They don't care for my choices, nor I for theirs."

"Because you wouldn't get married?" Matril frowned. It would be helpful to know just how much trouble they were about to step in. "Because you left?"

"That too." Dorian's voice was bitter.

"Let's go meet this retainer, then." Matril nodded.

"I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed?" Dorian frowned. Then he sighed. "We'll find out soon enough."

#

They went south first, into what turned out to be a swamp. Harding shrugged when she informed him that it was a good thing they were used to fighting undead. The woman was a rather cheerful little sadist. Matril sighed. "I am not going to let anyone keep Inquisition soldiers."

"We appreciate that." She smiled up at him before filling him in on what they knew of the Avvar.

#

"What do they call this? A 'bog?'" Dorian shook his head. "Lovely word."

"I would have gone with quagmire." The Inquisitor yanked his leg out of a section of mud before adjusting his boot. "Mire. Slough. Perhaps even sump."

"Muck, morass, muskeg, murky and morose."

"Yes, Cole." The Inquisitor nodded to him. "That sums it up perfectly."

"The mud wants my feet to stay." Cole frowned at the ground.

With a sigh, the Inquisitor reached back to offer Cole a hand up to drying ground. "Try not stepping in the water."

"Let me guess..." Dorian looked over the view. "The locals claim this place is haunted?"

"Look. Signs of a plague." The Inquisitor frowned as he followed Cassandra across the footbridge.

"A cheerful addition to any decent swamp." Dorian sighed. "At least in the city, you can find a decent healer. Out here you have, what? Roots and berries?"

"And walking dead." The Inquisitor unslung his bow and notched an arrow. "Don't forget the walking dead."

"Naturally." Dorian aimed a fireball.

#

"And look..." Matril pointed. "A foreboding wreck of a fortress, teeming with the undead and other forms of villainy. This day just continues to get better."

"If we try to fight them all, we will be overwhelmed." Cassandra shook her head.

"Barriers, and then run right through?" Matril raised an eyebrow.

"That seems to be the only way." Cassandra nodded.

"Right." He notched an arrow anyway. "After you."

#

Matril smiled at the freed soldiers, then suddenly grimaced and shook his head. Dorian raised an eyebrow at him. "Something troubling you?"

"I just realized..." He turned to look at the gate. "We have to walk back."

"Oh." Dorian sighed.

#

"Uh-oh. Nobody's here. This doesn't bode well." Dorian took a couple steps backward.

Someone stepped out of the shadows. "Dorian."

"Father." Dorian turned to face the man. Matril didn't draw his bow, but he didn't quite take his hand off it either. Dorian shook his head, and anger filled his voice. So the whole story about the 'family retainer' was just..." Dorian glared. "What? A smoke screen?"

"Then you were told." The man walked all the way into the room. His clothing was well made, though not ostentatious. A man of enough wealth that he had no need to show it off. "I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved."

"Of course not." Dorian glanced over his shoulder at Matril before turning back to his father. "Magister Pavus couldn't come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread Inquisitor. What would people think?" Dorian took a few steps toward his father. "What is 'this' exactly, Father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?"

The Magister sighed, and looked at Matril. "This is how it has always been."

If the man wanted sympathy, he was truly looking in the wrong direction. Matril stepped to Dorian's shoulder and narrowed his eyes. "Considering you lied to get him here, Dorian has every right to be furious."

Dorian turned to look at him. "You don't know the half of it." He shook his head. "But maybe you should."

"Dorian, there's no need to -" Magister Pavus held up a hand.

"I prefer the company of men. My father disapproves."

Matril blinked. That... "I'll need you to explain that."

"Did I stutter? Men, and the company thereof. As in sex. Surely you've heard of it."

That really wasn't the part he'd needed explained. It was just given certain incidents in his own past... "That's..." He glanced back at the magister before looking back to Dorian. "A big concern in Tevinter, then?"

"Only if you're trying to live up to an impossible standard." Dorian waved a hand. "Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw - every aberration - is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden."

That was the explanation he was looking for. He shrugged. "I've more than heard of it, actually."

"No. The Herald of Andraste?" Dorian rolled his eyes. "I am shocked and scandalized."

Despite himself, Matril smiled. "Such sarcasm."

"You're not exactly subtle, oh Lord Inquisitor." The corners of Dorian's mouth twitched just slightly.

"I should have known that's what this was about." They both turned at the sound of the magister's voice. He was glaring at both of them now.

"No." Dorian actually stepped between his father and Matril. "You don't get to make those assumptions. You know nothing about the Inquisitor."

"This is not what I wanted." Magister Pavus shook his head.

"I'm never what you wanted, Father, or had you forgotten?" Dorian folded his arms.

"So that's what all of this is about?" Matril sighed. "Who you sleep with?"

"That's not all it's about." Dorian's voice was low and furious.

"Dorian, please, if you'll only listen to me." Magister Pavus took a step forward.

"Why?" Dorian took a step forward himself as he gestured angrily. "So you can spout more convenient lies?" He glanced back at Matril before pointing at his father. "He taught me to hate blood magic. 'The resort of the weak mind'. Those are his words." Dorian all but spat the words. He turned and walked a few paces away before turning back toward his father "But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life?" Pain entered his voice, and he nearly choked on his next words. "You tried to change me."

"I only wanted what was best for you."

"You wanted the best for you. For your fucking legacy. Anything for that."

It took an act of will not to reach for his bow as the meaning of Dorian's words sank in. He saw Dorian start to walk toward the door. Anger and sorrow both tried to claw their way to the surface, and he pushed them back down brutally. This was about Dorian, not... other things. And Dorian's father wasn't his. He'd come with words. "Don't leave it like this, Dorian. You'll never forgive yourself."

For a moment, Dorian just stared at him. Then he turned back toward his father. "Tell me why you came."

"If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition..." Magister Pavus's took a half step toward his son.

"You didn't." Dorian just shook his head. "I joined the Inquisition because it's the right thing to do." He took a step backward. "Once I had a father who would have known that." He turned away.

Matril met his eyes, and then nodded as he stepped back to let Dorian walk toward the door. He fell into step behind the other man.

"Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed." Magister Pavus's voice caused Dorian to pause. "I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me."

Dorian stood there for a heartbeat before turning to look at Matril. Matril touched his shoulder, and nodded before stepping back to let Dorian walk toward his father.

#

If the night hadn't been so quiet, he wouldn't have heard the light brush of footsteps coming up behind him. "Words bitter and biting, breaking. Bastard." Cole's pale eyes stared at him from under the hat. "The word hurts you, but you want it. Why?"

Matril wrapped his arms around himself, then looked down at the ground for some time before looking back at Cole. "So you know?"

"Yes." Cole frowned. "No. Maybe."

"Well, thank you for clarifying that." Matril shook his head.

"Oh." Cole smiled. "You're welcome."

"I don't suppose you could tell me?" He met Cole's eyes. "Am I a bastard?"

"It's a word with many meanings."

"I suppose you are correct." Matril sighed, and brushed his hair back. He gave Cole an appraising look. "Wouldn't you rather have clothes that fit you properly?"

Cole looked down at himself. "The pants go on over the boots."

"You're supposed to put the pants on before the boots. I..." Matril patted Cole on the shoulder. "When we get back to Skyhold, I'll help you."

#

He caught a glimpse of the Inquisitor approaching out of the corner of his eyes. The man walked to the alcove, and then stopped a couple feet away. Dorian knew without asking that if he wanted to be left alone, the man would walk away. "He says we're alike. Too much pride." He was almost surprised to hear his own voice. "Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."

"Are you all right?"

As odd as it seemed, he was sure the question was genuine. He decided to answer it honestly. "No. Not really." He hesitated, and then turned to face the other man. "Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but..." His father had come. And somehow, he'd acquired a friend who'd be willing to stand beside him. "It's something." He took a deep breath. "Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display."

"I don't think less of you." The Inquisitor smiled. "More, if possible."

"The things you say."

"I mean it."

The man's hair was falling into his face again. Dorian fought the urge to reach up and fix it. "My father never understood. Living a lie..." He shook his head. "It festers inside of you, like poison. You have to fight for what's in your heart."

To his surprise, the Inquisitor looked away. "I'm glad things got..." He shrugged. "Closer to settled, anyway."

Dorian slowly nodded. "At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor. It's been that sort of day." He shrugged. "Join me sometime, if you've a mind."

"Perhaps." The Inquisitor nodded. "I should..." He shook his head. "Cullen is undoubtedly eager to hear the thrilling report of how many different types of mud we've waited through recently."

#

"Inquisitor." Mother Giselle sat down next to him.

"Mother Giselle." He didn't turn to look at her.

"Confessing one's sins does little good if one merely repeats them."

"What good comes from the truth, Mother?" Matril shook his head. "They come from all over, because they believe. What would they think, if they knew what their Inquisitor truly was?"

"You think none among them has ever told a lie? I doubt you are the only one here that has taken a different name." She smiled. "If you must know, my name is actually Alphonsine Giselle."

"That's..." Matril chuckled. "Well, I certainly cannot fault the reason for your choice."

"Yet you fault your own?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I was on the run. Taking my name with me would have been a death sentence." He shook his head.

She slowly nodded. "What is it you fled?"

Matril looked up at the statue of Andraste. In his memory, he saw the fire rising, and heard the screams echoing through his mind. "Foolishness. Cowardice. Self-delusion." He sighed. "Myself."

"Perhaps you judge yourself too harshly, Inquisitor." She put a hand on his shoulder. "I saw you offer your life to save the people of Haven. You stood before a monster, and you did not falter. That is not the action of a coward."

"I note you said nothing regarding it being the action of a fool." He shook his head.

A small smile came to her face. "There are no doubt many who called Andraste a fool when she began her journey." She patted his shoulder.

"Those who bear false witness nd work to deceive others, know this: There is but one Truth. All things are known to our Maker and He shall judge their lies." Matril leaned forward to look down at the ground. "I told you I came to the conclave with the intent of stealing some of the treasures brought as gifts for the Divine."

"Yes." She nodded. "You also gave me the items you had stolen, to be returned to the Chantry. Relics that would otherwise have been lost. 'The one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, shall know true peace.'"

"My first crime was theft. I stole food from a vendor."

"I do not think any would judge you too harshly for that, Inquisitor."

"I was penniless, ended up in a tavern trying to work up the nerve to pick a pocket. And a man offered to buy me a drink." He took a deep breath. "Then he offered me a bed. His."

"I see." Mother Giselle nodded to him.

"I wasn't yet fourteen. Still innocent. I actually thought he cared about me. Then a month later, he was a bit shy during a card game and he..." Matril looked down at his hands. "He bet me. And lost. Before I even realized what was actually happening, this Rivaini businessman was trading me to his business partner for some..." He laughed. "You know, I never did learn what was in that box, but it was apparently worth more than I was because he had to throw in some statue as well. A couple months later, I was sold to a brothel. A few months after that, a client decided it was more cost effective and discreet to simply retain my 'services' for his personal use. He took me back with him to Orlais." He looked towards Mother Giselle. "The Herald of Andraste was a slave and a whore."

"Andraste was also a slave, once. And who knows what she may have been made to do in her time in slavery." Mother Giselle smiled gently. "Your past may have been why you were chosen to undertake this task."

"From there I..." He shook his head. "I was taught to be a bard. A spy. A thief. And, if the pay was right..." He met her eyes. "An assassin. I came to the conclave in the employ of the Carta."

"I see." She frowned.

"And at first, I stayed because people like Cassandra and Cullen were..." He sighed. "They were prepared to defend me. Then, when I learned my former employer was dead, I thought I could use them. This was Game beyond what I had ever dreamed. And then..." He rubbed at his eyes. "I don't know when it changed but..." He shook his head. "It did. A few years or even a few weeks ago, if you'd have told me I'd walk out to face a dragon to..." He looked down at his hands. "But I did. And despite everything that should have..." He raised his eyes to the statue. "I survived it. And Skyhold was here, waiting. Like everything before was just to bring us here and now I'm terrified that..." He took a deep breath. "I told the templars that I was the voice of Andraste. Mother Giselle..." He couldn't meet her eyes. "What if I was telling the truth?"