A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Thank you so much for the reviews, I really enjoy hearing your thoughts on your story.

Chapter 10 - Negotiations With Redcliffe

Redcliffe, Fereldan

Marcus started up at the massive double doors that granted entry into Redcliffe castle, to the naked eye the door seemed inconspicuous, but Marcus' trained eye captured several minute details that left him feeling disturbed. The double doors did not gleam with the strength and vitality one expected of a fortress like Redcliffe. The doors looked dirty, worn and cracks in the surface exposed a dull orange light. Marcus was worried that he would be walking into a trap.

"Are we not going in, my dear?"

The Herald bristled in agitation, if there was one part of Thomas' failed assassination attempt that agitated him, it was the change it wrought to their plans. Grand Enchanter Vivienne, who was not supposed to have come with them, was to stick by Marcus' side at all times. Marcus had not fully recovered from his wound, and while he could walk or ride a horse, he still could not fight like he used to. Thus, his negotiations with Alexius became even more dangerous. Vivenne was supposed to use her skills as a Knight Enchanter to keep the Herald safe from both melee and ranged attacks. Marcus did not like the idea of someone putting themselves in harm's way, for his sake, and he liked it even less when they were people he did not trust.

"It feels like we are walking into a den of wolves," said Cassandra, clenching her mailed gloves in anticipation.

Marcus turned to grin at her, "Speaking from experience are you?"

Cassandra turned her gaze from the door to him. "You could say that,"

Chuckling to himself, Marcus turned to face the door.

"Let's go," Marcus said, "We need to… negotiate with the Magister,"

The group of three approached the doors, which parted as soon as they approached, and entered the entrance chamber.

The entrance chamber of Redcliffe castle was shrouded in darkness, torches were hung on brackets nailed to the wall, but the pinpricks of light did little to fight back the overwhelming darkness. Guards stood against pillars lining the halls, they silence adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Marcus could vaguely make out a few tapestries and portraits, flashes of color that screamed against the oppressive, dull, grey stone. The entrance chamber was quiet large, but its floor empty. The footsteps of the Herald and his escort echoed loudly against the stone. Marcus felt very uneasy, even with his companions by his side, every fiber in his body was screaming at him to unsheathe his daggers, and it took every bit of willpower to keep his instincts from taking over his body. The nobleman felt something cool touch his shoulder, and turned to his right. Cassandra was staring at him intently, the weak light cast a silhouette over the group, and the Seeker's refined and angular features stood out in the semi darkness. Marcus' met her eyes with a questioning gaze, and she nodded in return.

"Steady" she said, "Be at ease,"

Marcus smiled at her, "Do I seem uneasy to you, Seeker Pentaghast?"

"You are like a wild cat straining at his leash," she replied.

Marcus frowned, "Wild cat? Couldn't you come up with a more ferocious animal?"

"No,"

"You are no fun,"

"This is hardly the place for fun,"

"My dears,"

Marcus noted the warning tone in Vivienne's voice, and dropped the matter, though the little exchange with Cassandra, made him feel better, and he approached the steward with more brazen confidence than he felt moments ago.

Marcus eyed the steward in plain clothes, turning his nose up at the man, and sparing him the look of disdain the way most nobles regard commoners.

"Announce us," he ordered.

The guard did not respond, but a pale, blonde haired man, dressed in blue approached them, he eyed the Seeker and the mage uneasily.

"The Magister's invitation was for the Herald alone," he said, his accent revealing his Fereldan heritage.

Marcus glared at the announcer, "They are coming with me," he said, his tone brokered no argument.

The announcer stared at Marcus, but the Herald did not relent. At last, the man nodded.

"Follow me," he said.

The announcer turned around and began to make his way up a flight of stairs. Marcus gave one glance at Cassandra who nodded encouragingly. If she was nervous about the coming negotiations she was not showing it.

The steward lead them towards a set of tall oak doors, framed in a stone archway, the Fereldan opened the doors and gestured for the Herald to enter. Taking a deep breath, Marcus stepped through the doors, and found himself inside a large room. A fireplace burned brightly casting enough light over the entire chamber, and illuminating the décor, which consisted of stone dragons, and other foreign items Marcus saw as foreboding. Alexius was waiting near the fireplace, sitting comfortably on a wooden throne-like chair, with his son Felix standing beside him.

"The agents of the Inquisition are here your grace," said the announcer.

Alexius smiled. "My friend, it is good to see you again," said the magister. "And your associates, of course,"

'I really don't feel the same,' Marcus thought, "Greetings, magister," he said at loud, "The feeling is mutual,"

Alexius smiled and nodded, though it was not a genuine smile. "I am sure we can reach a solution that is equitable to both parties,"

Marcus heard the faint patter of delicate footsteps, before a voice spoke.

"And are we mages to have no say in decisions that affect our fate?"

Marcus turned around to see the petite frame of Grand Enchanter Fiona, the Orlesian mage seemed to be nothing more than a dot in the vast expanse of the chamber, but she stood straight and firm, glaring defiantly at the Maigster who loomed over her from his throne like chair.

"You would have not turned the lives of your followers over to me Fiona, if you did not trust my judgment," Alexius said, a subtle reminder of Fiona's subservient position.

'Right because you just ooze trust,' Marcus thought.

"Fiona, my dear, your dementia, is starting to show," Vivenne commented.

Marcus held up a hand to silence the Enchanter, "If Grand Enchanter Fiona wishes to be a part of the talks," he said loud enough for the everyone in the chamber to hear. "I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition,"

Alexius nodded, before turning around to sit on his throne.

"Thank you," Fiona said, gratefully. "I have the mages you need to close the Breach,"

Alexius sneered, he did not spare Fiona a glance as he sprawled over the immense chair.

"So tell me, what will you give me in return?" Marcus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "I am sure we can come to some sort of arrangement, Maigster Alexius,"

Marcus explained, Alexius raised his eyebrows, "Oh?" he said, "What do you propose?"

"We have the finest foods from all over Thedas,"

Marcus said, in a gleeful voice, Alexius frowned, "I have no appetite for foreign food thank you very much," he snapped.

A small voice at the back of his mind told Marcus not to unnecessarily provoke the Magister, but he choose to ignore that small reasonable voice.

"Well, Maigster, that's probably because you have only tasted what Fereldan has to offer, and let me tell you, it isn't that great," he explained, "Surely some sweet bread from the Free Marches, or beef from Rivani would be enough…. to curry your favor?"

"Urgh!"

The magister's eyes narrowed in dislike. "You mock me?" he hissed.

Marcus sighed, he really hoped Leliana and her agents were getting through the castle's passages.

"Of course not," Marcus said, "What I am trying to say is that we have contacts all over the world, spies who can gather valuable information,"

The nobleman was not certain if that was true; but he reasoned that it would not matter in the long run. However, Magister Alexius proved to be too clever, as his cold, brown eyes glared at him suspiciously.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, "Why do I get the feeling that you are humoring me?"

Marcus was about to open his mouth, to reply.

"He knows everything, father," said Felix suddenly.

The Magister's head snapped around to face the young man standing beside him.

"What?" he asked, "How?"

"I told him,"

"Felix, what have you done?" said the Magister in a tone of surprise and anger. He got to his feet and turned to face his son.

"I did what I thought was right!" Felix exclaimed, "These Venatori, what they are making you do, it is not wrong! It is not what we stand for,"

Father and son had clearly forgotten the presence of the Herald and his companions. Cassandra took a step forward, with her mouth slightly open. She was about to say something, but Marcus held up his hand to silence her. The Seeker turned to look at the Herald, with a slight frown on her face.

"We are supposed to keep them busy," he whispered, "Let them argue with one another," Cassandra nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and took a step back.

"I do not care about what is right or wrong," Alexius snapped, "He can save you, Felix,"

"You need to stop this, father," Felix entreated, "Do you know who you sound like?"

"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché, everyone expects us to be," spoke a posh voice.

Marcus turned to the newcomer in the room with a grin on his face; Dorian was strode into the light dressed in light armor of purple and white, and looking completely at ease despite the tense situation.

"Does that villainous cliché include a horrible fashion sense?" Marcus asked.

Dorian let out a loud dramatic sigh, "I am afraid so," he said, "We are mostly known for dark colors, and spiky accessories,"

Marcus gestured to the magister, who was now glaring at Dorian. "I see he is not doing anything to break that stereotype,"

"Dorian," hissed the Magister, seemingly unaware of the exchange between the Herald and his former student.

"I offered you a chance to be apart of this, and you turned me down,"

"Completely understandable given the fashion," Marcus muttered.

"Herald, please take this seriously," Cassandra hissed.

"Alexius," said Dorian, "This is not what we envisioned, when we designed the spell. Think about what you are doing,"

A gurgling noise cut through the tension in the chamber. Everyone turned towards the source of the noise, one of the Venatori guards collapsed to the ground, an Inquisition agent now stood in his place, with a bloody knife in hand. But it was not just a single guard, all around them, Venatori guards were falling to the ground, with Leliana's agents taking their place.

Marcus grinned in relief, 'They broke through!' he thought, 'This operation is a success,'

The Ostwick native turned to the Magister, who was looking at the Inquisition agents with shock on his face.

"Magister Alexius," he declared, loudly for everyone to hear, "It looks like you are now in a hot soup,"

Dorian looked at him confused, "Hot soup?"

"Don't bother asking," muttered Cassandra in an exasperated tone.

The Magister looked around, seeing his dead agents, he glared at Marcus.

"I must undo the mistake at the Temple," he said, "And you are a mistake, Herald, you should never have existed!"

"Well, my brother actually agrees with you on that end," Marcus said.

Alexius didn't say another word, he raised his hand and amulet began to glow bright green. Marcus felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, as a powerful but indiscernible feeling swept through the room.

"No!" Dorian cried out, as he swung his staff.

Whatever he did caused Alexius to stumble. Marcus pulled out his daggers, as a huge emerald green portal sprung to life, towering above his head. Marcus turned around, determined to get away but something pulled him towards the portal, like a powerful fist that clamped down around his shoulders and dragged him in the opposite direction.

"Herald!"

Marcus looked up at the voice. Cassandra's face was one of shock, her hazel brown eyes were round with surprise, she was running forward oblivious to the danger with her arm outstretched towards him. Before Marcus could yell at her to get back, he felt something pull him into the portal. The view of the chamber faded rapidly, and he was surrounded by darkness.

Marcus' body felt like dead weight, his limbs weighed heavily preventing him from getting up. A dull ache seemed to resonate throughout his body like a ringing bell, and his head was swimming in darkness. He reluctantly opened one eye to take in his surroundings, he found himself in a stone chamber, something in the texture and construction of the imposing room told him that he was in Redcliffe castle.

"Alexius you fucking bastard," he groaned.

Marcus raised himself until he was on his hands and knees, but quickly crumpled again as he felt an excruciating pain in his gut. The Herald groaned trying to think of some way to ease the pain.

"Are you hurt?" Dorian's voice broke the pain like a ray of light through mist.

Marcus nodded, "My wound," he gasped, "I think its opened again,"

"Sweet Andraste! It must be because of our fall," said Dorian, "Come, I need you to turn onto your back,"

Marcus groaned at the thought of moving, but he shifted himself slowly until he found himself staring up at the ceiling. The wounded noblemen immediately noticed a strange red light up the entire chamber.

"What's with the lights?" he asked.

"I am not entirely sure," Dorian replied, he held his hand over Marcus' stomach, and a bright blue light sparked to life, the noblemen felt the pain rescind at once.

"I think we are still in Redcliffe castle, but its different somehow," Dorian said, "I can see red lyrium growing out of the walls,"

Marcus frowned at that. "Did you see that lyrium when you lead the Inquisition agents here?"

"No," Dorian replied, "But we did not go through these dungeons, I would recognize the rooms if we did,"

The blue light faded away, and Dorian stood up.

"There," he said, "All done. I have formed a small shield around the wound to make sure it doesn't open again. Though you still have to be careful,"

"For now," Marcus muttered, he slowly shifted to his feet, and go to his feet rather gingerly.

The Ostwick native studied his surroundings. The chamber had a decrepit, neglected look, as if it were not used frequently. Water had seeped into the room, it sloshed around as Marcus moved.

Tapestries, portraits, and other artifacts were scattered carelessly around the room, as if someone had sought to discard the treasures rather than store them. Even in the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus could clearly recognize the possessions of nobility, no true nobleman or noblewoman would toss away such wealth carelessly.

"What do you think happened here?" Marcus asked, "Was the little stunt from Alexius responsible for this?"

Dorian studied the room around them.

"I doubt what Alexius pulled off can be called little," he replied, "But it probably wasn't what he intended,"

Marcus groaned, "I hate to think about what he intended,"

"Alexius summoned a rift," Dorian explained, "But that rift moved us where? To the nearest confluence of arcane energy?"

'Mage talk,' Marcus thought, 'This is not good,'

"Of course! It is not where, its when!"

"When?" Marcus exclaimed, "You mean that we have been shifted through time?"

"Precisely," Dorian exclaimed, delighted that Marcus caught on so quickly. "Alexius used the amulet as a focus to move us through time, I believe his original intention was to wipe you out of existence entirely, that way you would not have been at the Conclave,"

"I am sure my parents would love to that," Marcus muttered dryly. "Is that why you cried out 'No!' and did some fancy staff movement, to counter his spell?"

"Yes, I also believe he acted before he was ready," Dorian said, "The presence of the Inquisition agents made him reckless,"

"And I thought the atrocious Fereldan food gave him a short temper," Marcus muttered.

The Herald shook his head, he didn't want to think about what Alexius had done, the implications were too overwhelming. Instead, he decided to focus on the next course of action.

"But where are we?" he asked, "More accurately, when?"

"That's what we have to figure out," Dorian said, "We have to make our way to the upper levels, if there is a way to get back, we will find it,"

"We will have to find it,"

Marcus looked for his weapons but could not find them.

"Dammit," he muttered, "I must have dropped my daggers when I was dragged into that… time hole,"

"Blood of the Elder One!" exclaimed a voice. "How did they get in there!"

Marcus looked up, two Venatori guards were standing merely meters from them, their silver armor and steel weapons gleaming in the dark. For a moment, the two groups of men stared at each other in surprise. The guards did not pause for along, they drew out their swords and charged at the mage and rogue. Marcus didn't hesitate, he went forward to meet them, ready to kick and clobber the guards using his martial arts skill. One way or another, he was going to undo what Alexius had done.

A/N: Please review!