Alistair paced back and forth. "He threatened me. He actually threatened me."
Saitada growled. "Unfortunately, he has just enough clout that he could present something of a threat, especially given that he did close the Breach. If he turned his eyes on Ferelden, after..." Saitada sighed. "Orlais would be happy to lend him swords. Hell, Celene would leap at the chance, as it would cement her own position."
"He had Brehan thrown into a cell. You aren't suggesting we leave him there?" Cathiel slammed her palms down on the table.
"I'm afraid our options are limited at the moment."
"He's in a cage, and we..."
"Dammit, Cathiel." Saitada punched a wall. "He doesn't just have him in a cage. He wants information on the Wardens vanishing again, and Brehan is the second highest ranked Warden in the entire south. Stone, he knows more than I do, and what's worse is that Leliana is well aware of that."
"No. You can't be suggesting..." Alistair shook his head violently. "Leliana... Cassandra... they'd never allow that."
"Corypheus used Wardens to kill the Divine, just a couple months after Brehan walked out on the Inquisition." Saitada leaned on the back of a chair. "I don't know what he was thinking, going in there."
"He was thinking of Leliana." Cathiel's voice was soft.
Sigrun sighed. "There has to be a way in. Get in, get him out."
"I sent a message to Brosca and Lenore already. They are on their way here." Alistair ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Are we... I mean... I hate to ask but... Do we know if he's still alive?"
"No." Saitada closed her eyes. "I've no confirmation anyone has seen him since he was taken to the cells."
"Then he could be dead?" Fear filled Sigrun's voice.
"We'll do all we can, Sigrun." Alistair said. "If the Inquisitor killed him, he is going to pay."
#
Saitada stared down at the parchment. "The Wardens have disappeared again."
"And I'm informed that there will be 'consequences' should it be discovered I am sheltering fugitives." Alistair took a deep breath.
"He'll be questioning Brehan." Cathiel clenched her fists. "And I doubt he'll be asking the questions nicely."
"Can your brother help?" Alistair raised an eyebrow at Saitada.
"I already sent a letter. We'll know soon enough." Saitada slammed her fist down on the table. "Loghain's leading the Wardens. Loghain Mac Fucking Tir is the Warden-Commander. Who knows what he's doing?"
"My agent in Gwaren says there is no sign he's contacted Anora. I've asked Lenore and Brosca to confirm that. Frankly, their spies are a lot better than mine." Cathiel folded her arms.
"I've instructed Rory to put the guard as well as the Silver Order on alert. The Order of Vigilance has their hands full with the demons this dwarven bastard claims he is protecting us from." Alistair shot a glare at the map. "But it seems that he's 'unwilling to commit Inquisition resources to hostile territory'."
"Stop challenging him or your people will suffer." Saitada leaned on the table. "The Carta is running what is currently the most powerful organization in Thedas." She sighed. "I'll start figuring out what favors we can still call in. Hopefully, Lenore and Brosca will have some to add. And if we're damn lucky..." She looked down at the parchment again. "We might be able to get something done in time to save Brehan."
#
Tan looked at the parchment Mother Giselle had handed him, and rolled his eyes. A heartfelt plea for the return of the prodigal son. Still, it might be worthwhile to follow up, perhaps get them some additional contacts in Tevinter. He hadn't made as much use of Dorian as he'd initially intended. A small smile came to his face, and he headed up the stairs.
#
He woke to voices. "I saved the eye, though I don't yet know if I saved his vision. The damage to the hand was more extensive. I doubt it will have full functionality."
"Brehan?" The dead man's voice asked. Someone moved in the darkness to stand near, and a hand went under his head, lifting him up. A cup was pressed to his lips, and he drank the cool water gratefully. It took him a moment to realize there was a covering over his eyes.
He frowned as he was lowered back to the bed. "Jerath?"
"Yes."
"You're dead."
"Funny. I heard the same about you." A hand touched his shoulder. "You need to rest. We'll be here when you wake up."
Brehan let himself slip back into the comforting dark.
#
"What have you found?" Jerath leaned on a column.
"Not a lot." Dagna gestured at her notes. "Even with Merrill, Anders, Valya, Caronel, and Salla, we couldn't get one of the rifts to close. Might try again with Carver's brother, but I'm not sure even he would make a difference." She brightened a little. "We did get a ward that keeps demons from coming through..." She shook her head. "Currently, the fluctuations from the rifts themselves disrupt the ward pretty quickly but I'm working on it."
"Which means the only existing way to seal rifts is the Inquisitor." Loghain made a frustrated sound.
"Until that problem is fixed, our options are limited." Jerath straightened. "For now, unfortunately, we need the Inquisitor alive." He glanced over his shoulder at the room that was serving as their infirmary, then turned his gaze towards Anders. "How close to fully recovered is Carver's brother?"
Anders rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, uh..." He shifted.
"What Anders is trying to say is that my brother is recovered enough to not only recall how angry he is at Anders, but to be actively attempting to do something about it." Carver couldn't quite keep a smile off his face.
Jerath sighed. "Once Brehan's on his feet, we're heading into Denerim. I'm going to ask your brother and his family to stay in Denerim. Under the circumstances, I'd like Alistair to have as much backup as possible at hand."
#
Tan watched Dorian stalk away from the argument with his father. That had been both amusing and enlightening. The mage really was rather pretty when he was all angry and flustered like that. He hung back a moment, and then glanced back at the inn. Dorian's magic was handy, but as an altus he didn't exactly have anything resembling clout. And perhaps the man could use an additional buy-in. Tan fingered the hilt of the blade he kept in the poisoned sheath, and then headed back into the inn. "Magister Pavus, a quick word?"
#
Daylight streamed in through arched windows. Brehan blinked. The ruins appeared to be elven. His vision in his left eye was blurry, but cleared somewhat as he blinked. He started to sit up, and a hand caught his shoulder gently.
"No moving without the healer's approval."
He turned to see Jerath sitting next to the bed. "You." He swallowed. "Maker. I thought..." It took him a couple tries to get his voice to stop cracking. "I thought you a dream, a vision the Maker had sent to guide me into the Beyond."
"I came as soon as I learned." Jerath sighed. "You're going to have some scars, I'm afraid."
Brehan shook his head. "Least of my concerns."
"You don't have to look at you." Jerath sat back in the chair.
"Emma shem'nan, da'mi." He stared at the familiar face of his old friend. "Tell me the truth. Are you alive, or am I dead?"
"We're both alive. And for the time being, at least, we are safe." Jerath folded his arms. "When I had Loghain remove the Wardens from the Inquisitor's control, I did not know you were alive, let alone a prisoner. I'm sorry. I would have gotten you out first, had I known."
"He'd been torturing me for at least three days before he began asking about where Loghain may have taken the Wardens." Brehan sighed. "At least that answer I didn't know, and did not have to fear giving. Are they here?" He looked around. Some of the blur remained in the left eye, but he could make out trees and greenery through the windows, some of it overgrowing a tower. "Where is here?"
"An island, a few weeks of sailing north of Tevinter. The reefs would prevent anyone from reaching it, even if they did know we were here." Jerath twitched a shoulder. He turned as footsteps approached the door.
A few moments later, a young boy carried a tray into the room. On it was a steaming bowl that smelled like broth. He set the tray down on the side table, then tilted his head as he looked at Brehan curiously. "His blood is very old. Have I met him before?"
"In a way." Jerath nodded to the boy before glancing at Brehan. "Brehan, this is my son, Kieran."
"I..." Brehan blinked. "What?"
#
Tan stopped in the rotunda, and gave the artwork on the walls an admiring look. "You do good work, Solas."
"Thank you, Inquisitor." Solas set the brush down, and turned toward him. "Did you need something?"
"Thinking of asking you the same question." Tan leaned on the doorway. It struck him as slightly odd that he hadn't given Solas more consideration. Elves usually squealed so nicely, but... Something about this one was just slightly off, and more often than not he simply found himself avoiding the man. "Figured out any more about that orb thing?"
"Very little new, I'm afraid." Solas shook his head.
"I don't suppose there is any chance we could get our hands on another?" Tan raised an eyebrow.
"If only that were possible." Solas sighed. "Unfortunately, if any others still exist, their locations are unknown."
"Well, talk to Dorian, see if he can get you any more information." Tan gave the artwork one last look before leaving the room. His deeds, painted larger than life. Maybe he'd have the elf do the great hall as well, later.
#
Eben lit the lantern, and then gasped. "I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to..."
Dorian sat up, and sighed. "No, it's quite alright. I fear I dozed off. Some writers thrive on making history sound as dull and tiresome as possible."
He started to nod, and then took a second look at the mage. Dorian looked somewhat disheveled, and rather than simply being smeared his eyeliner appeared to have run down his face. And his eyes were red. Had the man been crying? "My lord, I..." Eben hesitated. "Is something wrong?"
"No." Dorian's voice was sharp. "Everything's fine."
"I..." Eben turned and started to leave him be, then stopped and turned back. He took a deep breath, and then walked over and offered Dorian his handkerchief. "Would you like some tea?"
For a moment, Dorian just stared at the offering. Then he took the cloth and wiped at his eyes. "Yes, actually. Thank you."
It took him only a few moments to gather the tray and return, and yet that was apparently all the time Dorian needed to get back to looking like his normal self. He set the tray on the table and started to walk away when Dorian spoke. "Join me, if you've a mind."
"Alright." Eben sat. To his surprise, Dorian reached for the pot first and poured them both cups.
"I thought you were from Kirkwall, but your accent says Ferelden." Dorian raised an eyebrow.
"I was born in Ferelden." Eben took a sip of the tea. "My family was killed during the Blight, and I ended up a refuge in Kirkwall." He hesitated a moment. "The Champion saved Kels, me, and a few others. Then we went to the templars and Commander Cullen took us in."
"Noble of them." Dorian drank from his own cup. "Did you get a chance to talk to the Champion while he was here?"
"Only for a moment." Eben sighed. "Still hasn't sunk in yet. He adopted a couple of us. I've tried a dozen times to write to them, telling them he died a hero, but the words just..." He shook his head. "Sorry. I'm babbling."
"Quite acceptable, given the circumstances." Dorian took a deep breath, and gestured at a piece of parchment. "I fear no one writes the words well. I have just been informed that my father was killed by Venatori after his recent visit here."
"I..." Eben swallowed. "I'm so sorry, my lord."
"Thank you." Dorian finished his cup, and then looked down at the glass. "Tea just doesn't seem to slack my thirst. Could I interest you in joining me in a bottle of wine?"
Eben nodded.
#
Anora blinked, and looked at the dead man laying on her floor. Then her eyes widened at the man who stepped out of the shadows. "You..." She shook her head. "But..."
"Rumors of my death seem to have been exaggerated." Jerath gave her a small bow. "I had your father remove the Wardens from the Inquisition's control. He was concerned that action might have consequences for you." He nudged the dead man with his foot. "Pretty he was alone, but I'd like to assign a guard to you just in case."
"I..." She took a few deep breaths, then composed herself once more. "Of course. Who did you have in mind?"
He gestured, and someone followed him out of the shadows. "Teyrna Mac Tir..." He turned to his companion. "I'd like you to meet the Dark Wolf."
#
Minaeve glanced up, and then jumped slightly. "Oh, Inquisitor, you startled me." She glanced at the table. "I was just going over some of the materials you recently brought back."
Tan smiled up at her. She really was a skittish little thing. "Find anything interesting?"
"Possible. I think some of the demons you've recently encountered may have a particular vulnerability towards fire due..." She went on for a minute, then caught herself. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling."
"No, it's fascinating." He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "That's your latest report?"
She nodded, and offered it to him. "Yes, Inquisitor."
He caught her wrist, then took the report from her and set it on the desk without releasing her. "I heard about your tranquil friend. Terrible shame."
"Yes." She looked down at his hand, and a bit of confusion showed on her face. "I, uh..."
"I'd like to hear more about this vulnerability." He stroked his thumb across her skin. "Come up to my quarters and we can discuss it."
"Forgive me, my lord, but..." She tugged at her arm.
"Wasn't asking." He tightened his fingers until he felt the bones of her wrist grind together and heard her gasp.
#
Dorian woke, and rubbed at his forehead. His fingers glowed white as he dealt with the minor dregs of hangover and then abruptly realized that the weight on his shoulder was someone's head. He glanced down to find Eben still asleep, curled against him. And they were both undressed and... Memories of the previous evening flooded back.
Oh, sweet Maker. Cullen was going to kill him.
#
Cassandra rubbed her forehead, and stared at Cullen. "What do you mean, he escaped?"
Cullen sighed. "Apparently, a few nights ago, Brehan killed the jailer who was bringing his meal, and fled." He hesitated. "Cassandra..."
"No." She shook her head. "Brehan is not an enemy agent."
"I know." Cullen nodded. "But it is possible he is not acting of his own free will, and..." He sighed. "We definitely have some sort of enemy presence here in Skyhold itself. There have been..." He shook his head. "A tranquil woman was murdered, and there have been a couple disappearances."
#
There were tears on her face. Tan used his thumb to wipe one away. "You should be honored, little girl. You've bedded the Inquisitor."
Minaeve flinched at the sound of his voice. "Yes, my lord."
"Of course, we really can't have that getting around. Don't want anyone to think I'm playing favorites or anything." He touched the bruise he'd left on her upper arm. "Besides, who'd believe the Inquisitor would be interested in a knife-eared apostate?"
She swallowed, and nodded, fear in her eyes. "Yes, my lord."
He watched as she scrambled to get her clothes on, then caught her wrist before she could flee. Tan gave her a disapproving shake of his head. "My dear, you look like you're trying to hide something." He gestured at the mirror. "Make yourself presentable. You don't want people questioning your virtue, right?"
"I..."
"I'm glad we had this evening." He ground her wristbones again. "I was starting to worry I'd have to make do with another tranquil." He saw her eyes widen with shock. "You wouldn't want me to have to do that, would you?"
"No." Her voice was small.
"Now clean yourself up like a good girl, and I'll see you later." He yanked at her arm, causing her to fall to her knees. Then he kissed her before letting her go again. "Get."
#
"I, uh..." Dorian handed Eben back his tunic. "Well, this is awkward."
"I, uh..." Eben sighed. "I think I broke your..." He winced. "Um..." He offered a piece of clothing back to Dorian. "When I was trying to uh..."
Dorian looked down at the remains of his own clothing. He vaguely recalled the younger man having difficulty with the buckle before simply pulling it apart. "I suppose this means I shouldn't feel bad about the fact that your small clothes may have ended up..." He gestured at some slightly charred pieces of cloth.
"That was, um..." Eben shifted. "Er..." He hesitated. "You, uh..." A laugh escaped him. "You set my britches on fire. Literally."
"Well, you were the one who..." Dorian shook his head, and laughed himself. Then he sighed. "That was..." He took a deep breath. "Eben, I apologize greatly for taking advantage of..."
Eben shook his head. "I, uh..." He shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. He pulled his tunic on over his head. "I should..." He gestured vaguely at the door.
"As should I." Dorian nodded. He waited until the younger man had left, then looked down at the broken buckle again. Then he sighed. "Maker, I am an incredible asshole."
#
Tan whistled cheerfully as he entered Josephine's office. It was almost a pity the Antivan had to be off-limits. "Josephine, my darling..." He hooked his thumbs behind his knives. "Let's talk about this masquerade."
#
He accepted the mirror Jerath handed him. The scarring ran down the left side of his face, twisting and marring his vallaslin. And yet, it could easily have been much worse. Considering the position, he could easily have lost the eye. He set the mirror down, then flexed the fingers of his left hand. The fingers moved stiffly, but they moved. At least they moved. "Your healer does good work."
"Yeah, about that." Jerath nodded at someone else in the room. "This is Anders."
Brehan followed his gaze to where a blond man was preparing a potion. He felt his jaw drop. "Anders?"
"I suppose we have a lot of explaining to do." Jerath shrugged. "Drink what he gives you, and I'll give you the tour."
Anders handed him the potion. Brehan looked at it for a moment, then shrugged and drank it. It didn't taste as bad as he'd expected. Jerath tossed him a pair of pants, and he managed to get them on, though he had to put a hand on Jerath's shoulder to steady himself. "What are these ruins?"
"A couple thousand years ago, this was some elf noble or another's keep. You'd have to ask Merrill for the details."
He blinked. "Merrill is here?"
"Where else would she be?"
"Jerath, she's a blood mage." His voice cracked again.
"Anders is an abomination, Loghain is a traitor, Nathaniel is an assassin, Carver is a pain in the ass, and I'm dead. She fits in fine." Jerath shook his head. "Not sure what we're going to do with a goody two-shoes like yourself."
"Emma shem'nan, Da'mi." Brehan just shook his head as he accompanied Jerath through the corridor. He stumbled a couple times before giving up and letting the other man support part of his weight. Memories of his rescue from Skyhold jostled around in his head. "Jerath, when you got me out, I thought I saw -" He found himself unable to form words as they stepped out into the garden and he saw them. A massive beast, solid black save for a smattering of silvery feathers on its chest was being groomed by the woman who had once been his clan's First. He felt himself stagger, and Jerath caught him before he fell, guiding him to a nearby stone. Brehan sat down, and swallowed several times before he could manage to make his voice work. "That's a griffin."
Merrill led the creature over. It creeled softly, and he slowly managed to raise his hand. The griffin butted his head into the hand, and he petted it gently. Merrill's voice was gentle. "Brehan, this is Tamlen."
"Hello, Tamlen." He felt the tears come as he rubbed the griffin's neck.
