Lily found books in the lower reaches of the Hawke Estate. Shelves of them. They had been neatly and regularly dusted, but by the way they creaked and crackled when she opened them, Hawke and his associates were not big readers. After some indecision, she extracted three from the shelves and made her slow way back up the stairs, making a note to let Hawke know she was borrowing his things. She could hear voices in the front room, and drifted closer out of curiosity.

"I'm so sorry Messire, but the Master is away at the moment-"

"Is he expected back this afternoon?" The voice was cultured, on the deeper end of the scale, and pleasantly civil.

"He is, Messire, but –"

"Then I will wait."

"But Messire-"

"Calm yourself, Messire dwarf. I don't require anything of you. I will stay in your parlor."

She could feel Bodahn's distress at having what sounded to be an important visitor with no residents of the house to greet him. Feeling relatively confident she might regret it, she cleared her throat, smoothed her dress down and clutched her books for security. She came around the corner trying to personify a confidence and calm she didn't have. Bodahn visibly sagged with relief. "Oh, Mam, I didn't know you were around."

The visitor was tall, robed in blacks and red edged with gold, an incredible black staff with a trio of dragon heads strapped to his back. He was gloved, his hands folded politely in front of him, standing regal and straight on the rich carpet of the parlor. He was an elf, very nearly as tall as Zevran, but far more slender. His hair was a very dark grey, but his face was high cheekboned and unlined. It was – strange. She made a note to ask someone about how elves aged. This one could have been anything from thirty to seventy. He had a grace and self awareness that was simultaneously impressive and a touch intimidating. He gave her a gracious nod. "One of Hawke's newest companions, I assume? The man gathers followers like a mother hen."

Lily smiled, mimicking his nod. "You could say that. My name is Lily. I apologize, I don't know when Hawke will be back."

Bodahn was watching the elf warily. "And this, mam, is-"

"Orsino. A pleasure." He unfolded one of his hands, offering it. The glove had a thumb and finger cut away, which struck her as odd before realizing it must be for writing. His grip was firm and polite, neither needlessly strong or lingering. "The matter is urgent, else I would ask him to visit me when he has a moment."

She looked to Bodahn, who was looking to her for guidance. "We will move through to the lounge, Bodahn. It's far warmer there."

"Of course, mam." He was relieved, turning to leave. "I'll bring up refreshments."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Serah." Orsino said, and she hesitantly extended an arm beside her to gesture through to the lounge. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement, sweeping past her to the fireplace. He smelt like books and high quality linen. It was pleasant. He set his staff by the fireplace, and stood patiently as she chose a seat on the long chair –not too far away, not too close – sitting once she had settled herself. His eyes were sharp, and she was distinctly aware of how every gesture she made was being catalogued away somewhere. "Is it rude of me to enquire as to why you've come?"

"No. But I am unable to tell you. It is delicate."

"Of course." She was suddenly very aware that she had nothing to talk to this man about. She didn't even know her surroundings well enough to be able to make light conversation. His fingers were laced in his lap, green eyes fixed on her. "If you will indulge my curiosity – there is a set to your face and your voice that I can't place. Where are you from?"

She floundered, trying to figure out how much to tell him. "I don't know." She said finally. "I'm apparently suffering from a fairly involved case of amnesia."

"How strange."

"Ah – yes. It's been an interesting few days."

"You have not been with Hawke long."

"No. Not at all. Three days now."

"And yet he takes you into his home?" His brow furrowed, then smoothed. "No. It is none of my business. Hawke obviously has his own ways of operating."

"That's true. I think my having no previous history or allegiances gives him a degree of security."

"I suppose it would." Orsino was thinking. "Then – you do not know Kirkwall well."

"All I've gathered is that it's full of slavers."

"Ha. Yes, Unfortunately. It does have more redeeming features, luckily."

"You have lived here long?"

"Since I was a young boy, yes. I was taken by the Circle as an infant."

"The – Circle?"

Orsino's expression was taken aback, and then intrigued. "You haven't even heard of the Circle of Magi?"

"Should I have?"

"The Templars? The Chantry? Meredith?"

"I'm sorry."

"You don't recognize my name, then."

"I didn't. I apologize if I'm not addressing you as you should be."

"That's the least of my concern. And it likely explains how polite and accommodating you have been." There was a slightly bitter twist to his smile. "What a unique situation for you. To come into this situation with none of the prejudices that usually infect us all from childhood."

She was wary. He was important, she'd gathered that much. "I'm learning. Slowly. There's a lot to take in."

"Of that I have no doubt." He looked down at the books she held. "You appear to be proactive about such things, anyhow."

"I am in Hawke's debt, with nothing to really repay his kindness. All I can really do at this stage is try and understand what I've fallen into."

"We have time." He offered. "I would be happy to answer any questions. He tilted his head. "And how did you come into his care?"

"He rescued me from slavers. I woke with very little memory."

"You are lucky. Your injuries are not too severe?"
Ah. He'd noticed the limp. She thought he might have. She hoped against hope she wasn't blushing. "No. I'm healing well. They've been looking after me."

Orsino nodded. "You refer to the apostate healer?"

"The – what?"

"Anders." He said patiently. "Apostate is a mage who operates outside the Circle of Magi. It's also illegal. Anders is shielded by his connection with Hawke. He would be welcome in the Circle, of course, but he has philosophical differences with the more restrictive aspects of such a life. I have heard that he is very skilled."

"He is." She had a sudden, hot flash of the night before, and she looked away to cover her warm face. "He's been very good to me."

"You are lucky to have fallen into such good company. Ask Hawke to talk to you about the Qunari uprising. Providing you don't hear it from the minstrels in the marketplace."

Bodahn came back in, balancing a precarious tray, and setting it close to Lily. "I hope it will suffice, milord, mam. Please call if you require anything else."

"Thank you, Bodahn." She was unsure if he was supposed to pour the tea for them or if he was in a hurry to leave and forgot, but she occupied herself with the teapot, steadfastly not looking at him. Orsino evidently wasn't ready to leave his line of questioning. "The Circle of Magi is a contained community of mages. It is the legal obligation for all Mages to submit to their care. It is something of a cage, but it can be a very rewarding, providing the mages have a decent working relationship with the Templars who act as their carers."

"Templars?"

"I have four waiting outside." He said drily. "I could parade them around for you, if you wished. They are the military arm of the Chantry. It is their responsibility to keep the populace safe from the dangers of magic." He looking into the fire, bitterness in his face.

"I take it then that the relationship isn't a working one here?"

"You would be right. Their leader is a woman called Meredith, who has a very thinly veiled death wish for us all." She poured him tea, realized he was sitting too far away for her to hand it to him, and stood to bring it over. He accepted it with murmured thanks. She sat back down, picking up her own teacup. "You – are a mage, then?"

He inclined his head. "I am."

She nodded towards the staff by the fireplace. "That is beautiful."

"Thank you. It belonged to my predecessor. It's rather ominously called the Staff of Violation." He set his teacup back into its saucer with a soft click. "You know, the Circle has the largest library in the Free Marches. Perhaps we could find something there to address your amnesia." He hesitated. "There are more – arcane – ways to access the information locked in your head, but I would suggest talking to Hawke before considering such a thing. I'd be happy to offer my services, but I suspect your carer wouldn't thank me for giving the decision to a young lady who doesn't understand what that could be construed as by Hawke's opposers."

She looked down at her pile of books. "I appreciate that. I will – talk to him."

"Please do. If you ask for me at the Circle you will be admitted." He was looking at her books again, evaluating. "May I see what you are reading?"

"Oh-" She set her teacup aside, carrying the three across to him. "I haven't started. I only just found them."

He took the off her, a very slight grimace on his face suggesting she might have chosen poorly. "The Chant of Light is a religious text. You should be forewarned."

"I figured. But it seemed important."

"It is. But it is worth keeping in mind that it is written by mortals and not the Prophet. Often with centuries dividing them." He set it at the bottom of the pile. "This is worthwhile. And a decent edition. Have you seen the Codex of Ferelden before?"

"I – may have."

"I keep forgetting. I apologize." He looked at the third, blinking in surprise. "This is – an interesting choice."

"I didn't really look at it. I was intrigued as to what a book written by a "Comtesse De La Rosa" would be like."

"Scandalous. This is a rather popular book, if memory serves. We confiscate it from numerous acolytes each week." He gave her the books back. "I'd be curious to know what your responses to these are. As someone so untainted by previous history."

There was clattering in the parlor, the sound of Bodahn hustling down the stairs behind her. It sounded as if Hawke was home. Lily was suddenly confronted with the concept of seeing them – all of them – at once. For the first time since the night before. It was impossible for her to flee at this stage, even if she could have moved fast enough. "It sounds as if they are home."

"Covered in blood and having done things we are best not knowing about, most likely." Orsino sighed, standing and reaching for his staff. "For what it's worth, Lily, I'm glad to have met you. Seek me out if you do decided to accept my invitation."

"I will. I appreciate it." She stood, taking his teacup off him and setting it back on the table. Hawke chose that moment to thump in, followed by Isabela and Merrill. He went still, seeing Orsino and Lily by his fire. "First Enchanter." He said cautiously. "I wasn't expecting you."

Orsino inclined his head. "I didn't warn you. I chose to wait for your return."

"You have made yourself comfortable, it seems." Hawke was distinctly wary. Lily looked between the two men, trying hard to decide what the relationship was, if any. She had the distinct feeling she should not have been so open with the man standing beside her. Orsino's eyes flicked back to her. "Your – ward has been very accommodating. I certainly hope I haven't disturbed your household with my unannounced visit."

"I would appreciate a warning, if you would be so kind." Hawke was watching Lily carefully, and she looked awkwardly away. "As you can imagine, a group of templars outside my front door is a concern for me."

"If we may talk somewhere privately, I will be on my way." Orsino said, his voice clipped. "I am not looking to cause you any undue strain."

"Through here, then." Hawke gestured to a room at the side. "I'd really like to have your templars gone by the time the rest of my companions arrive."

Lily realized that their exit would leave her with Isabela and Merrill, and she wasn't really ready to talk to Isabela yet. Especially about the things she was going to want to talk about. She cradled her books, heading for the staircase, using Isabela and Merrills careful silence in Orsino's presence to mask her escape upstairs.