Zarihn and Agronaak arrived back at Haven around the same time as each other, with their respectful forces in tow. They got along well enough when they met up at the gates, but when they each found out how the other had procured these forces at a meeting Josephine had set up, they got along markedly less.

"You fucking did what?" Zarihn yelled in the war room. "They're Templars! They left the Chantry to wage a private war that they started, you can't just turn them loose!"

"I stand by Lord Herald Agronaak and his decision." Cullen said, resting his hands on the pommel of his sword. "The Templars require freedom, and they didn't start this war, First Enchanter Orsino did. You can't judge us if you weren't in Kirkwall, Zarihn."

"I fucking can and will judge you, because I was there too!" Zarihn snapped at him. "A year before the Champion defended those mages, I watched the injustices they endured, Commander."

"Zarihn, don't you see?" Agronaak said, annoyed. "Mages are dangerous. Orsino ended up becoming the very thing he was trying to convince everyone the mages weren't. Surely you cannot support those who decided that that man was their best bet at a leader. Why, under the Qun-"

"Oh, and I should support those who thought their strongest leader was a raving lunatic who tried to murder her own soldiers?" Zarihn asked, crossing his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. "She ended up as a fucking statue, Agronaak. And I don't give one single shit what the Qun says about mages, because I already know it. You'd have them all muted, chained, and castrated. Just try that on these mages. See how far you get."

"I have met a great many mages in my day." Leliana chimed in. "Most of which were better people than I. I stand by Zarihn, and I won't let any harm come to these mages."

"Leliana, you can't just let them roam free." Cassandra said. "They're far too dangerous."

"Zarihn," Agronaak growled, prompting the elf to turn towards him. "I… do not appreciate your attitude towards the practices of my people."

"That's funny, because I don't appreciate you treatment of mages, whose only crime to you was existing." Zarihn said, scowling. "They're still people, Agronaak. The only reason they comply is because you indoctrinate and torture them into believing it's their place in the Qun. I know, because people have tried to do the same to me."

"They don't know what they're doing, Zarihn!" Agronaak said, his voice rising. "All throughout history, so many bad things have happened because of mages. They cannot control themselves; they always want more, more, more. The Blights, Zarihn, were started because of the arrogance of mages! The Qun is not willing to risk something so awful as that. The Qun allows for no exceptions because what if that exception is the exception that will damn us all? I've seen entire platoons wiped out by a group of novices! That level of power can't go unchecked, and since the Qun has no power here, the Templars are what is necessary."

"You want to talk about history, Agronaak? You want to talk about why those platoons were wiped out?" Zarihn asked. "Let's compare. Sure, bad things have been caused by mages, but infinitely more bad things have been caused by man's own rage, his greed, and his fear! Atrocities have been committed in the name of quelling magic, subduing rebels, and even your precious Qun! Your predecessors put hundreds of thousands to the sword when they conquered Seheron and Rivain! More Rivaini natives died during the Qunari invasion than died during the Fourth Blight, and the entire fucking Blight was fought in Rivain! Those platoons you've seen destroyed were destroyed because your people insisted on taking Thedas with cannon and steel rather than words! So fuck your platoons! They've only got themselves to blame for their deaths! Themselves, and your precious Qun."

"You will not speak ill of the Qun in my presence again," Agronaak intoned. He was starting to shake like he had at Therinfal, and he knew that he should really remove himself from this situation before things got out of hand, but Zarihn was dismissing his entire system of belief. One didn't just walk away from that.

"Oh, is that how this works?" Zarihn asked. "As soon as I remind you that you've done something bad too, you just shut down? I see how Qunari are renowned for being so stalwart. I've seen things you wouldn't believe Agronaak. I've seen the worst of every race and every country, and every fucking denomination of any group of poor people that this fucked up world has to offer. So don't you sit on top of your precious Qun and act like your shit doesn't stink while you pretend to be all high and mighty."

Agronaak should have left. He should have just left when he had the chance. This wasn't about the mages anymore; this was a personal attack on Agronaak and everything he believed in. He wanted to speak but words failed him. Instead he gave a wordless bellow and flipped the entire ten-foot long war table over, causing Zarihn to jump to the side and push Cassandra out of the way, even though the table just fell on him instead.

"I'm… I'm sorry." Zarihn said, managing to crawl out from under the table. "We're not the same and I need to try and respect that."

Everyone was shocked by Agronaak's response, but none more so than he himself. He was getting his breathing and shakiness under control, all the while contemplating what in the hell was wrong with him. Ever since the encounter with Envy he'd been so... short. This was a very personal matter for him, obviously, but he was a leader of the Inquisition, and was not prone to bursts of rage besides. "I am sorry as well," he said heavily, ashamed of his actions. "I agree; this part of Thedas is not my part of Thedas, and things are done differently here. I need to understand that. I cannot... cannot force the Qun on a bunch of Fereldans, Orlesians, Nevarrans... I'm terribly sorry."

"Perhaps we should consider the Qun to be like a phallus. It's wonderful that it exists, but it's best that it not be shoved down our throats unless we wish it." Zarihn suggested, back to his old jokes.

Agronaak laughed lightly at that, though still a little hesitantly. "Heh, yes, perhaps that is for the best. To… to each their own, that's what it was." Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen, all tense and worried a few moments before, relaxed visibly as a fight was seemingly avoided.

"If we could move on to the business at hand?" Josephine prompted.

"All I know is that I wish I had a drink at hand right now." Zarihn said with a sigh. "Perhaps we could continue this later today, Ambassador?"

"Do you only ever think of alcohol?" Cullen asked.

"No. I also think about that sweet arse I know you're hiding under that armor." Zarihn replied, smirking deviously, prompting a short bark from Agronaak as he bent down to pick the war table back up, as well as a reluctant smile from Leliana. Zarihn noticed that she was glancing back at Agronaak every few moments, but decided not to interfere with whatever was happening there. "Cassandra, care to join me for a drink?" He asked, looking over at the Seeker expectantly.

"I would love t- wait a moment." Cassandra said, catching herself. "You almost just got into a brawl with the other leader of the Inquisition and you're asking me to go out for a drink with you?"

"I think it'd be nice to talk about it, and I think I can trust you." Zarihn told her, surprisingly truthful.

At this, Agronaak felt a strange urge to go out for a drink with someone as well. Not Cassandra, obviously. He turned towards Leliana. "Erm… Sister Leliana? Would you care to accompany me for a drink?"

Leliana seemed rather surprised, as if this were the exact opposite of anything she'd expected to have happen, but Cassandra noticed a slight twinkle in her eye; she'd have to remember to talk to the Sister later - and perhaps Zarihn as well, if the conversation went in that direction. "I… I would be honored, Lord Herald," Leliana said, cautiously, as if she were afraid Agronaak might rescind the offer if she responded too eagerly. He gave her a small smile. "I suppose we'll be off soon, then. You two go on ahead."

Zarihn and Cassandra left the war room, the former much more calm than the latter, while Agronaak and Leliana dallied for a time. Upon exiting the Chantry, Zarihn claimed to be a bit too cold, and laced his fingers through Cassandra's, and the unlikely pair walked through the snow-lined paths of Haven hand in hand on their way to Zarihn's quarters.

"Did you wish to talk about something, Lord Herald?" Cassandra asked, still formal even though she was relaxing somewhat.

"Must two people always have something to say to one another?" Zarihn asked in reply. "I simply wished to spend time with you. There's hardly any opportunity to do so during meetings. And I must insist that you call me Zarihn, my dear Cassandra."

"I appreciate the gesture, Lord Her- Zarihn." She corrected. Cassandra smiled faintly, the scars on her cheekbones lifting slightly as she moved a bit closer to him.

"Although I did wish to speak with you." Zarihn said, chuckling softly. "I must admit that I expected you to have run me out of the Inquisition by now."

"Why would I do such a thing?" Cassandra asked, raising an eyebrow at him curiously.

"You and I hardly see eye to eye on most things, fair Seeker." He pointed out. "In fact, you have more in common on your views of mages with Agronaak than you do with I. Not to say that I am complaining to be in your company, of course."

"Well… I find you to be a fascinating individual." Cassandra stated, although her tone implied there was far more to it than that. "Throughout your life, you have overcome apparently insurmountable trials and ordeals, and from what I've seen you are… quite kind at heart. Most who faced what you have might've ended up rather poorly."

"You give me far more credit than I deserve." Zarihn said, laughing his same carefree laugh as he walked into his quarters.

"You give yourself far too little credit." She retorted, sitting down in one of the few chairs next to Zarihn's desk. Zarihn's smile faded slightly before he picked it up again, walking over to what appeared to be a wine rack built into the wall, and it had definitely not been there before.

"Now then! How about that drink, Cassandra?" He asked, looking through the bottles. "Ah, here we are." He pulled out a rather new looking bottle, its label written in elegant, flowing script. Zarihn walked to Cassandra and handed it to her while he went to get a pair of glasses.

"Porta Fibonaccia, 9:12?" Cassandra read, raising an eyebrow. "One doesn't often date Nevarran firewater."

"You know your whiskey, I see." Zarihn remarked, smiling as he walked back over with the glasses. "You are correct, however. But when it comes to an alcohol of this caliber, the creation of it should most certainly be documented." He set the glasses on the table and took the bottle from her and poured only about half of what was usually served. "Buena fortuona, Cassandra." He said, handing a glass to her. She let out a low, melodious laugh and took the glass from him.

"Trying to charm me with remembrances of my old home?" Cassandra asked with a wry smile. She took a sip of the whiskey and coughed once, a bit surprised at its potency. "Nevarra has few comforts, Zarihn."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not the case." Zarihn said, waving dismissively. "When last I visited, I greatly enjoyed myself. Magnificent architecture, native fruits, beautiful women…" He trailed off, smirking again. "...of which you are the most beautiful, of course." She let out a rather uncharacteristic, nervous laugh as her cheeks flushed from something other than the cold and the alcohol.

"Now you're the one giving too much credit." She said, drinking more of the whiskey.

"Seeker Pentaghast," Zarihn started to say as he drank half of his glass, mockingly horrified, "were you not just the one who told me I didn't give myself enough credit?" She laughed again, more naturally this time. "If I deserve more than what I say of myself, than you deserve infinitely more than that. For whatever I might be, good or bad, I can scarcely compare to you."

"Flatterer." Cassandra said, still blushing slightly as she set her glass down. "But… thank you, Zarihn."

"It's not often that people thank me for telling the truth." Zarihn told her, placing his glass on the desk and leaning closer to her, his hand resting on the side of her left arm. She raised an eyebrow, but didn't stop him, curious to see where it would go. He very carefully pressed his lips to hers, just the barest touch, really. Cassandra smiled against his lips and parted hers, kissing him back with a bit more passion, albeit not that much.

Agronaak and Leliana's drink, however, was shaping up to be very different. The walk to the tavern from the keep was honestly a bit awkward. Agronaak wasn't entirely sure why he'd decided to ask the Sister out for a drink in the first place; he was never much for alcohol (besides Carnal), and he honestly didn't know what the two of them might talk about. They walked a fair distance apart from one another, occasionally glancing to look at one another and offer small smiles, with few words exchanged. Agronaak normally thought Cullen's foofy fur cloak to be gawkish and impractical, but he had to admit that chain and plate did little to block the wind - nor did they stay warm for very long. He suppressed the urge to shiver.

Agronaak and Leliana both let out a sigh of relief, unheard by the other party as they stepped through the doors of the tavern. It was warm and cozy, with a musician strumming her instrument pleasantly in the corner and dim conversation going on all around them. Taking seats at the bar, the two of them turned towards one another and gave another awkward smile.

"So... " Leliana began. "I… am not entirely sure what we should talk about," she finished, laughing nervously. "I must admit that your asking me to accompany you for a drink was not exactly something I had prepared for."

Agronaak shifted uncomfortably. "I will admit to the same. But, well, you are already out here with me, and the atmosphere is pleasant. We must at least make an attempt to have a nice time, wouldn't you agree?"

Leliana relaxed a little bit. "Yes, I suppose I do. So, er, tell me, Lord Herald… What is your favorite color?"

Agronaak cocked his head to the side. "My favorite… color?"

"Yes! You know, the one you prefer! I personally love a lighter, softer shade of blue, I think that's my favorite. Though I've always had a soft spot for a really mellow yellow…"

"I don't think I have one," Agronaak interjected, causing Leliana to open her mouth in mild surprise.

"What, you've just not got one?"

"No. I just said that."

"But how old are you, thirty-eight, forty? You've gone four decades or so with no favorite color? How'd you just… just not get on that line of thinking?"

"I think it is because of the Qun," Agronaak replied. "There is very little weight placed on the color of things in everyday life. Of course there are some artists, and the buildings of Par Vollen are stunning, but aside from that… we do not care. What is a grey shirt compared to a green shirt, really, for example? Their color does not change their feel or their size or their design, and their purposes are the same. The only change is what light is absorbed and what light is reflected off of them."

"... Sorry, what was that last bit?"

"Oh, simple physics, quantum mechanics, not important to this discussion. The point is that color outside of an artistic context is essentially meaningless, so no one much cares."

"That's so odd, though!"

"And investing emotion in a particular shade of blue or yellow isn't?" Agronaak absentmindedly cracked his neck. "It's a matter of perspective, is all." He motioned for the bartender to come over and ordered himself a glass of Carnal, while Leliana opted for a more tame plum wine.

"Er, speaking of perspective, Lord Herald," Leliana said cautiously, taking a small sip of wine, "I was hoping we might talk about the altercation you and Lord Herald Du Rien had several minutes prior."

At this, the faintly contented look on Agronaak's face melted away, replaced by a rather grim expression. "Ah, yes, that." He took a gigantic swig from his glass, draining most of it in one gulp. "I notice that you stood with Zarihn on that issue. I hope our differences in perspective do not lead to conflict between us. That would be most unfortunate."

"No, my Lord Herald, of course not!" Leliana said, a little too quickly. "I wouldn't dream of… that is to say… I would hope that something like that would not cause a rift between us." She took a larger sip than before. "You're not the first Qunari I have worked closely with, Herald Qun'Maloc. I once knew a man, very dark brown skin, white hair, his name was Sten - no, that's not right, he was a Sten, of the Qunari forward defense force, I think; most of you don't have 'names,' per say, I remember. But either way, he was much less… open than you are sometimes, very committed to following the Qun. I never saw him drink, he might have smiled once in the year I knew him… and he was very anti-mage.

"But it wasn't anti-mage, not exactly, you know? He just seemed shocked that we didn't keep our mages locked up and castrated. It was such a foreign concept to him. I don't think he had anything particularly against the mages at a personal level, it was just that-"

"That the Qun taught him that way," Agronaak interjected. "Exactly! It is not a personal issue. We are taught that this thing, it is the way of the world. Most of us have never seen a mage, let alone met one, and if we did see one, they were being carted off somewhere, surrounded by guards. Everything around us pointed to mages being meant to be subdued, and our historical teachings - and we have very extensive historical teachings, believe it or not - did not exactly paint a positive picture of mages either.

"You Thedosians… you are all so different. There's this whole movement down here about how mages should be free, should self-govern, that there is no need for orders like the Templars to keep them in check, and that is completely foreign to any notions I was brought up with. That is why I decided to keep the Templars around. That, and the fact that they're excellent warriors…" Agronaak finished his Carnal and waved the bartender over for a refill.

"And what of you? What makes you dislike mages so much? You've seen them outside of Par Vollen now, and yet you still fear them." Leliana pointed out, swirling the wine in her glass. "Do the mages here not provide a better example?"

"Yes, well, I was hoping you would ignore that part…" Agronaak said, smiling glumly. "My personal feelings towards mages did not factor into keeping the Templars, I assure, you, but yes, I am not fond of them. My dislike stems from… personal reasons."

"Oh?"

"Oh."

There was a pause as they considered what to say to one another. In the silence, he found himself recalling a now distant memory. A memory of his sister.

He sat in a field of tall grass, the jungle trees of Seheron all around the field's edges, and his sister sat across from him, holding a ball of fire in her hand.

"Woah… how did you do that?" Agronaak had said, looking at the fire in his childhood wonderment.

"I dunno." His sister said, shrugging and tossing back her hair. "I did it yesterday and showed mom and dad. It was an accident, but I think I know what to do now."

"Be careful with it." Agronaak told her, hugging his knees close to his chest and pushing his stubby horns outwards, as if to protect himself.

"Relax, silly." She said, closing her fist and making the fire disappear. "I told you I could control it."

"Lord Herald?" Agronaak was startled out of his memory by Leliana's voice.

"Ahem, yes, my apologies," Agronaak said, still slightly distracted. "They're very personal reasons, Sister Leliana. I… would prefer not to speak of it. Please."

"Lord, Herald, with all due respect, I am the Inquisition's spymaster, a member of your innermost circle. Surely I of all people am someone you can speak-"

"No, Leliana," he said, more sharply than he wanted to, shocking her into silence. Seeing the look in her eyes, he softened, and sighed. "I don't tell anyone about it. There is literally not a single soul alive today that I have spoken to about why I dislike mages. Please respect my wishes on this topic." Leliana nodded slowly, relaxing, and Agronaak's shoulders sagged. "I apologize for being short. It was inappropriate."

"No, I shouldn't have pried." She said reassuringly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You know, I had another friend like you once. Never liked to talk about himself, or… herself, whatever. She acted like she had a skin of stone, which… well, I mean, she did... but she was a complex person, just as I know you are."

Agronaak wasn't sure how he felt about the hand on his shoulder, but he decided he'd just let it stay there. "Er… thank you, Leliana, for the kind words. I am glad you find me so interesting." He smiled again, and before Leliana could muster a response, Cullen burst into the tavern in a hurry.

"Lord Herald, Sister Leliana, you must come quickly!" Cullen said, out of breath. "There's… there's a boy in the Chantry. He just appeared in the war room."

Meanwhile, Zarihn was trying to get Cassandra into bed, but of course it wasn't his ordinary mannerism he used. Cassandra was still special to him, obviously. He sat on the edge of his bed with her next to him, the two of them kissing passionately, but in no hurry to move on. Zarihn's cloak had been shed and his chainmail laid on the floor next to his daggers. One could hardly make love properly in armor, and believe me, Zarihn's tried. Cassandra's plate mail had been discarded some time ago, and Zarihn's fingers toyed with the laces on her tunic. He was so close. This fucking close. And then Agronaak walked in.

"FUCKING HELL, AGRONAAK!"

"Oh! Shit! I am sorry."

"You couldn't… you couldn't have just… for the…" Zarihn was understandably pissed, while Cassandra was more embarrassed than anything else. "Fuck it, the mood's been killed. Let's go, Cassandra." He grumpily bent down and shrugged his chainmail and cloak back on. "This is the second time, Agronaak."

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry, Zarihn-"

"I don't even want to hear it. You could make a fucking living off this…"

"Zarihn, perhaps we should just move on…" Cassandra said, walking out of the building. Zarihn watched her go and pointed out her rear end to Agronaak.

"Do you see? Do you see what you made me miss?" Zarihn asked angrily. "Can you even fathom how hard it is for me to postpone sex?"

"Zarihn, I'm sorry. Sex is incredible. But we've got something of an emergency. Well, I wouldn't call it an emergency, per say, I think I know who it is-"

"You know what is an emergency? Me having blueballs for the foreseeable future!" Zarihn snapped. "Let's just go, you fucking chaste oxen…" He brushed past Agronaak and stormed outside, screaming internally. Agronaak hoped this would not increase tensions further.

As Agronaak suspected, it was Cole. He was surrounded by guards who looked very confused as to how to respond to the boy who had just appeared in the room. He stood there, looking oddly calm for someone with half a dozen swords pointed at him. He was clad in the same clothes as he had been all those weeks ago. Dorian was standing nearby, awestruck, and Josephine looked like she had shit a brick.

"Where is the Herald?" Cole asked, looking around curiously. "And not the small one with his happy little sadness."

"What?" Josephine asked, confused.

"I think he might be a spirit of some sort." Dorian informed her. "Either that or he's rather insane."

Cole looked towards the entrance, saw Agronaak standing there, and immediately dematerialized, only to reappear several feet away from where he was prior, near Agronaak. "Herald," he said calmly. "Hello again. I hope you remember me. Sometimes I make people forget things when I don't want them to."

"Er… hello to you too, Cole," Agronaak said slowly. "How… may I be of service today?"

"You can let me be of service. Like I want to be. Like so many others want to be, but can't. They're scared, and I want to make them less scared." Cole told him cryptically. "I'm here to help, little bull. I could help control the fire."

Leliana noticed Agronaak's stunned expression and her brow furrowed. "So I take it from your words that you wish to join the Inquisition in some capacity?"

Cole seemed slightly annoyed with her. "Yes. I want that. I can make people less scared that way. But I was talking to the Herald, not you, Sister Nightingale." His knowledge of her name shut her up.

Agronaak decided he'd best keep talking. "Well, Cole, what exactly do you have to offer the Inquisition?"

"I can help you help people. I can heal people, or… I can make them forget. Or I could kill them, if it helps the other people." Cole explained, although he said the last part a lot quieter. "I want to help, Herald."

Agronaak was silent for a moment. "Well… Cole helped me in the nightmare I experienced when we fought the Envy Demon. I'm not sure what the full extent of his powers is, but he was capable of breaking through the magic the demon had set up even when Solas could not. I do not know if I would currently be alive, were it not for him, and he really does seem bent on helping… I rule that he may join the Inquisition." Cole smiled, though he did so awkwardly, as though his face was not accustomed to it.

"Lord Herald, surely you are not simply going to allow him to join the Inquisition without a more thorough questioning!" Josephine chimed in worriedly. "His powers are not fully known, his origins a mystery… how can you be sure this is the correct choice?"

"I have made my decision, Lady Josephine," Agronaak said sternly. "I… trust him."

"You trust him?"

"Josephine, if you had been in that nightmare, seen the things I'd seen, and Cole had helped you escape, I think you would see him in a very similar light to mine. I vote he stays." His words echoed with such finality that Josephine simply bowed her head. "As you wish, Lord Herald. I do not agree, but that is your choice."

"And I have no say?" Zarihn asked from the doorway, which he leaned against in a very evocative pose. "Not that I disagree, I just thought I should've been consulted."

Cole turned to look at him and his eyes widened in something between admiration and horror. "You've been telling lies, Herald." He said quietly, his eyes boring into Zarihn. "Not the whole truth did you tell, and part of your soul you hid."

"My my, aren't we a nosy little spirit?" Zarihn asked evasively. "Perhaps you need to look a bit closer, Cole, because anything I hide, I hide for a reason."

Everyone in the room was completely silent as Cole looked into Zarihn's eyes, as if weighing his very existence. "I see." He intoned, blinking twice. "You've seen more than most, with your ancient young eyes." Cassandra moved closer to Zarihn without thinking about it and he grabbed her hand, holding Cole's gaze. Eventually, the kid looked away. "There are indeed reasons. I think maybe these reasons should be just yours." Zarihn nodded.

"So is that it then?" Dorian added. "The boy is with us now? I suppose that's not too bad; I've never lived with a spirit, after all. I'm sure Solas is going to have boatloads of emotions about this development."

There was a commotion from just outside the door, and Fiona and Barris both burst in a few moments after, looking very flushed, as though they'd run quite a ways. "My Lord Heralds!" Barris said tiredly. "Apologies for the sudden interruption, but we've important news about the Breach."

"The mages and Templars you brought back to Haven with you have had time to rest and recuperate some, and should be at full capacity after a good night's rest. The mages will be able to channel their mana, and the Templars their willpower, to assist the two of you in closing the Breach." Grand Enchantress Fiona told them, bowing her head politely at Zarihn but looking at Agronaak with a bit of fear.

"Glad to hear it." Zarihn said, grinning at her. "Perhaps we can finally be rid of all these demons, then."

"Somehow I feel like things are never that easy, Zarihn," Agronaak said with a half-smile. He looked at Barris and Fiona. "So, what might be the earliest time we can begin the journey up the mountain?"

"Within a few hours, Lord Herald." Barris said, allowing himself a wry smile. "With luck, we can close the Breach with our first attempt at closing it, so long as the mages hold up their end."

"You should worry more about your Templars, Knight-Captain Barris." Fiona said curtly, scowling at Barris, who simply scowled right back and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

"You two shouldn't fight so." Zarihn remarked, his ever-present smirk returning. "People might talk."

Barris paused for a moment before loosening his grip on his sword. "My apologies. If there is nothing else to be discussed, I shall go and inform the men of the upcoming march."

"I shall do the same for the mages, my Lord Heralds," Fiona said, trying her best to avoid Agronaak's gaze while still looking at him. It made for an interesting display. Agronaak really couldn't blame her, however, what with his two and a half-foot height advantage and the fact that he was a Qunari. And quite frankly, she'd probably had sex with Zarhin. Quite frankly everyone had probably had sex with Zarihn.

"I… suppose I should go attempt to get some sleep," Agronaak said. "It is probably better to attempt to close a gigantic hole in the sky after at least a few hours. I suppose I'll see the lot of you then." Leliana made a sort of squeaking sound, as if she'd wanted to say something but caught herself, to which Agronaak raised an eyebrow, but she merely gave a short laugh and acted like nothing had happened. Zarihn knew exactly what was going on, but elected not to say anything for the time being, choosing instead to simply smirk at Leliana, who he had also slept with. Obviously.

Agronaak departed the keep a few minutes afterward, moving towards his and Zarihn's shared accomodations. The temperature had a fallen even more since his last walk through the streets not an hour ago. It was bitterly cold out now, and he fought the urge to shiver. Looking down at the ground, Agronaak could see his own footprints from earlier, next to two pairs of much smaller prints. Hoping no one was watching, he amused himself by trying to step exactly where he'd stepped before and make no new imprints on the snow. As he reached the house and entered it, he sighed at the warmth of it. He removed his clothes and armor and put on a pair of pants more suitable for sleep, and set about un-doing his hair. Partway through he realized that he'd simply have to put it back up again at daybreak or perhaps even sooner, but it was easier at this point to finish what he was doing. His stunningly white hair, already rather long when done up, trailed down to almost the middle of his back.

"You know, you really ought to wear it down like that." Zarihn said from his desk, where he sat with his elegantly tapered boots up on the table. He draped one muscled arm over the side of his armchair, apparently having foregone the use of a shirt. His chest and stomach were marked with dozens of different scars and burn marks, and a few marks along his forearms that looked self-inflicted. He smirked at Agronaak and tossed back his wavy blond hair, lifting a glass of some miscellaneous alcohol with his left hand.

Agronaak was a little tense, having not heard Zarihn come in, sneaky bastard that he was. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, thick and ever so slightly wavy near the ends. "You… think so? I don't know, I feel like you are one of very few who likes it better down." He quickly unstoppered a flask sitting on his desk and took a swig.

"It looks quite nice, I assure you." Zarihn said, putting one foot down on the floor and bending the other at the knee in an evocative pose. "And I think you might need larger undergarments."

Agronaak rolled his eyes. He yanked out a lock of hair that had gotten caught up on one of his horns, which were dark and mostly straight, with a slight downward bend as they approached the tip, and golden rings near the base and tip of each. Near the base were two smaller protrusions in addition to the main horn, which was where the hair had gotten stuck. "Larger undergarments, you say? These are standard-issue Qunari breeches, fitted based on a survey taken once every five years on average genital length and girth among males. Surely you don't think that I am that large?"

"Oh, but you are, Agronaak." Zarihn told him, his grin widening. "You ought to get them tailored. Perhaps tailored by a beautiful girl who performs more than her job requires. And if those breeches are fitted for the average Qunari length, the others must be in a sorry state."

"Oh, by the Arishok, Zarihn! You really think that I would find someone this far south who's even willing to tailor a Qunari, let alone a beautiful female one who's feeling 'horny?' What are the chances?" Agronaak was trying not to smile now, intent on maintaining a neutral expression, but it wasn't working quite as planned.

"I assure you, my very well-endowed compatriot, that there are far more horny Orlesian women that you could possibly fathom." Zarihn said, setting his glass down and walking over to Agronaak. "And men, if that's your purview."

Agronaak's eight-foot frame gave a slight spasm as he held in a laugh. "I'm not sure my engaging in intercourse with a man would be… medically advisable." He gave a slight cringe at the thought. "Surely you of all people understand, Zarihn.

"Perhaps it had best be avoided, lest you split some poor man in half." Zarihn said, laughing at him with a charming smile, the tattoos on his left cheek quirking up slightly. "Although lubrication does exist."

"There is not enough lube in the world. You southern people are so… narrow."

"Not all of us. I think you'll find a few to be somewhat… stretched." He said, before walking away and turning back to his desk, leaning over it and actually looking at the map on the table. While he meant to be showing off his ass, he was really only showing off the scars on his back, most of which appeared to have come from a whip.

Agronaak felt a little awkward, but he was painfully curious. He tried to approach the situation carefully. "I… don't mean to be rude…" he said, "but… where did all the scars come from? There are an awful lot of them all over your body. I of course also have scars-" he motioned to a few marks along the purple-gray expanse of his chest and back- "but those all came from battle wounds… and one very temperamental nug. Er… what are yours from?"

"Well, this one came from a fight I lost with a cave bear." Zarihn told him, gesturing the claw marks down his chest. "The whip lashes are from the corporal punishment instituted by the former Arishok before his untimely demise at the hands of Marian Hawke. The burns are from a few different things. Most are from my unfortunate encounter with a high dragon, the rest are from when I saved the Archon of Tevinter's daughter from a manor fire as well as from her maidenhood. And the cuts and scrapes are from innumerable battles." He hadn't bothered to mention the cuts on his forearms. Agronaak had an idea of where those came from, and he wasn't sure that was a topic he wanted to discuss.

"Your life seems almost nonsensically rich with intrigue and adventure," Agronaak mused. "How do you find yourselves in all these situations, if they truly happened? The sheer level of them boggles the mind."

"'If they truly happened'?" Zarihn asked, feigning horror. "You wound me deeply, Agronaak. I haven't lied to you about any of my tales. Omitted some, yes, but that's simply because I wish to save the best for last."

"And when might 'last' be, pray tell?" Agronaak inquired, adopting a mock accusatory tone. "When might these last great adventures be revealed to ignorant old me? Must I pass some sort of test?"

"You've already passed every test posed to you. I suppose it's just left for you to wonder and wait." Zarihn told him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Perhaps I'll tell you after we seal the Breach, but not a moment before."

"Bah," Agronaak said, waving Zarihn away jokingly. "Fine. Keep your air of mystery. Is there something else you would like to discuss? I was originally intending on sleeping, you see." He gave a small smirk at that. He supposed it was pretentious to laugh at your own jokes but he didn't particularly give a fuck.

"Sleeping?" Zarihn asked, confused. "You don't… you don't get the dreams?"

"No…?" Agronaak said, frowning. "I don't recall. What do you mean?"

"Dreams. Nightmares, more like. About the Conclave, and… about your past." Zarihn explained vaguely.

"Well, maybe once or twice, but they were far apart, and were not recurring in any way…" Agronaak was growing concerned. "Do you think it has something to do with your mark?"

"It might. I mean… it seems a bit odd… more than it normally would." Zarihn said, looking at his right hand curiously. The mark on his palm was sort of jagged and twisted, black, almost, and it ran up past his wrist and along his forearm, cutting across the older scars than were already there. Alarmed, Agronaak lifted his left hand and examined his own mark - aside from the expected slightly green tint present when he was this close to the Breach, nothing changed since he'd gotten the thing.

"I think it may definitely have something to do with your mark, Zarihn…" Agronaak said, unnerved. "Mine is fine, and I have no recollection of nightmares. Do you think you should have Solas look at it?"

"I find that the irritable little egg knows more than he lets on, so perhaps that might be the best course of action." Zarihn remarked, regarding the mark as one might regard a corpse.

"Are you able to sleep at all?" Agronaak asked. "Surely you must be able to, else you'd literally be dead from sleep deprivation."

"I sleep when I am able." He replied, letting out a tired sigh. "And I suspect that at this point, my lust is the only thing that sustains me."

"Your lust could sustain all of us by itself." Agronaak told him with a reluctant laugh.

"I'm hoping it will sustain Cassandra." Zarihn quipped, winking at him.

"I'm honestly unsure how that woman is even alive anymore, what with the seemingly complete lack of sexual activity. I think it might be the blind hope." Agronaak couldn't believe he was having this conversation. Zarihn laughed and strode over to his bed and flopped himself onto it.

Despite the humorous note in the air, Agronaak couldn't help but feel like there was an underlying tension in their interactions, like the smiles they put on weren't entirely genuine. "Er… Zarihn?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think we ought to talk about our… disagreement before we go to sleep? It might be a good idea, I think."

"Discuss away, my horned friend." Zarihn said, draping one arm over his eyes but listening intently. "I still maintain my earlier predilections, however."

"That… is understandable. And I maintain mine… to an extent." Agronaak struggled with how to word it. "I… do feel as though mages need to be contained, but… I sometimes forget that the way the other races regard mages is vastly different from my own. Your society is so grossly different from my own, and your personal experiences with mages differ greatly from my own. You have known them, been close to them, formed friendships with them; in the Qun one does not socialize with mages at all; you know how they are regarded. I do not think it possible for me to share quite the same views as you no matter how long I spend down here."

Agronaak shifted uncomfortably. "There are also personal reasons for my dislike of mages. I… am not sure if I should tell you of them, however."

"Then I'll respect that. Although if you want to tell me, I'm here to listen." Zarihn offered, smiling reassuringly.

"It is just…" Agronaak shivered. "I have not told anyone about this. It is not the kind of thing that you simply tell people, you understand. It is very close to my heart. But…" Agronaak paused again. He really should stop doing that. "it is probably not healthy to keep this thing bottled up over the past, I don't know, thirty-plus years. Maybe it is time to tell someone."

"What is it, then?" Zarihn asked, sitting upright and crossing his legs. "Not to sound too eager, that is…"

"Oh, no, it is alright. It is my own fault for making it sound so 'juicy.'" Agronaak smiled. "Well… I think I shall tell you. Here we go… my sister was a mage, you see. And from what I could tell, she was rather good at what she did. Her powers started to manifest around the age of sixteen, and she showed it to me. I, being a decade younger than her, thought nothing of it. I just thought it was a cool trick that she could do to entertain herself and me.

"It seems to me, however, that either my sister had somehow never seen how mages were treated, did not realize that she was a mage, or simply lacked solid judgment, because her great mistake was telling our parents about her powers, and even summoning fireballs in front of them to prove she was not making stories up…. Nothing happened for a while, and our parents never mentioned it in front of us, but one day there was a pounding on our door and it was the… the secret police, I suppose that's what one would call them. They stormed into my sister's room and pinned her to the ground, gagged her, bound her hands and wrists… I wish I did not have to see it.

"The worst part is that she was so afraid. I looked into her eyes, wide with panic and terror, and saw the betrayal in her eyes when she looked over at my parents, pleading, begging for them to do something, anything, to help. And they didn't. Their expressions were flat - vaguely sad, if you looked closely, but flat. I tried to make a move but my father held me back with a hand on my shoulder. I was stupid - I still don't know what I thought I, a lone boy, his horns barely coming in, could do to interfere with the efforts of five fully armed and armored guards.

"They brought in a large cloth, bound her arms to her sides, then wrapped that cloth in steel chains before forcing her out the door. I was… screaming and crying and trying to charge forward but my father simply picked me up by the collar of my shirt and held me there as she was shoved into the back of a cart and rolled off. Her screams were muffled, but I could hear them just fine. The cloth covering her mouth was wet with her tears. She wasn't even fully dressed yet.

"You have to understand, my sister may have been the single most benevolent soul to ever walk Thedas. She was smart and kind and a wonderful sister, and if anyone might have used magic responsibly, might have been entrusted with free use of it, it would be her. If they could view her as a threat… then what truly awful creatures mages must be. If she had to be put in chains, taken away, rendered infertile, then surely every last mage deserved nothing less than the same." Agronaak was shaking now, and a light sheen of sweat had formed on his brow. "So… that is my story."

"I'm… I'm sorry to hear all of that." Zarihn said softly. He was silent for a moment before he stood up and walked over to Agronaak, reaching up and resting a hand on his shoulder.

Agronaak smiled faintly. "Heh. It is alright. It happened so long ago, and I have met many a mage who was utterly undeserving of my ire. It must be somewhat my fault at this point in my life. But I just, I just cannot fully let it go. I didn't even get time to say goodbye or anything, you know?"

"I know, Agronaak. People seldom do." Zarihn told him, removing his hand. "And… if you don't mind me asking… what was her name?"

"Demera," Agronaak said softly. "Most Qunari don't have 'names,' per say; my family was unique that way. And hers… was Demera. I always thought it was such a pretty name."

"It is, I think. 'Demera'. Perhaps you can name one of your children after her." Zarihn said, smiling again.

Agronaak gave a small chuckle. "Children, you say? I think that that obstacle is more terrifying than the largest of high dragons. But… yes, perhaps I shall."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to save the world first." Zarihn said, flopping back down onto his bed.

Agronaak strode over to his bed and sat down on it. "Yes, perhaps that is smart. What is also smart, I think, is attempting to go to sleep now. What say you?"

"I think that may be one of the points we agree on." He mused. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, stretching the smile wrinkles that he already had for so young an age.

"Excellent," Agronaak said, lying down and throwing his covers over himself. "Goodnight, Zarihn. Sorry again. See you in a few hours."

"Goodnight, Agronaak." Zarihn replied, his smile vanishing as soon as his eyes were closed.