Sera,

Sorry, pal, but I can't find any jobs that can rake in that much money in such a short time. That's a lot of coin you need, what's going on? Nobles are willing to pay good money to spend a night with an elf, but you're obviously not going to do that, especially since they'll want you to play coy and pretend to be Dalish. Sorry.

Lod

She crumples the letter with a grumble and shoves it in her pocket. She'll have to take care of this job first before she looks for another cash cow she can milk dry. Of course, someone with her kind of skills can only steal, kill, piss people off, or spread her legs for some decent money, right? She could try for some more assassination jobs, but those have been running low lately.

She ties her horse to a post, Inky eyeing her curiously at her unusual state: alone. It feels so strange now, not poking fun at Vivienne and not having Dorian complain about mud. Iron Bull isn't here to check out women with her, and Adaar isn't there to make a jealous comment. It would have been different, just a few months ago, but now it's just unnatural.

Have things changed so much since she'd joined this Inquisition?

Inky nudges her foot inquisitively, snapping her out of her little contemplation. She smiles a little as she pets the hound's head- at least she still had a ferocious mabari with her. Adaar was worried about her 'business' that she said she needed to take care of alone, but the qunari trusted her and grumbled a little when they had to part ways. She kissed her goodbye, promising her mage that she'd be back for dinner.

It's time to get down to work. "C'mon, Inky, let's make this a quick one, yeah? We'll get back in time for Harding's stew. Gonna clean that pot dry."

The hound pants in understanding as she leads him through smelly alleys with people who won't look her in the eye, drawing gazes and whispers from all who spy the muscled mabari, a mark of status and wealth, with an elf, of all people. Said elf curses internally, realizing that bringing Inky might not have been a wise choice- a mabari is a rare sight in itself, and one accompanying an elf is a sure description that would get her arrested, should she get caught.

Oh well, she can just make her hide somewhere. Inky's definitely smart enough to do that.

She stops just as she reaches a dingy looking tavern with a rusted sign: The Bronze Goose, exactly where her friend told her the contact would be. Her friend had neglected to tell her anything short of the location of the meeting and that she'd get a hefty amount of coins if she showed, which is why she's glad to have her Inky with her. If this turns out to be a job gone wrong, she's be more than prepared, she hopes.

She hushes Inky to a nearby ally, whispering a command to stay in the mabari's ear. Taking a deep breath, she pushes open the creaky door and walks inside.

Sera is no stranger to the worst parts of cities and towns, and this place is no different from the hundreds of taverns she's stayed in before. Same stench of cheap booze, same suspicious group of leering persons in the corner of the room, and the same bunch of drunken rabble.

However, she doesn't expect to meet a monumental frown of epic proportions, one that she isn't very fond of.

So this is a job gone bad. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Kaariss's frown deepens. "I'm the contact, now sit down quickly. We must be quick."

As much as she'd like to argue, she knows that in this business, attracting attention can mean a certain arrest, so she grudgingly pulls out the chair and plops down on it. "Told you I don't wanna hear whatever pish you wanna say about Buckles." Sera stands without a second thought giving the man a dirty look before she turns around. One step towards the door.

Kaariss' annoyed voice rings out. "Do you want the money or not?" She hears the clink of coins on the table, and she can't help but turn around to see the full bag of gold. A few other patrons take notice too, whispering among themselves and keeping watch over the two.

The thing can fit right into the qunari archer's hand, and that's really saying something. Sera scowls and sits right back down before he attracts even more attention- a qunari meeting an elf draws enough, she doesn't need a bag of gold added to the equation. "I'd bet my life that Buckles won't do shit to me. The big girl's-"

"I'm not an idiot, Sera." He cuts her off unceremoniously. "Anyone with a working head can see that she's absolutely smitten with her. The only thing I'm worried about is what she'll do to everyone else, and what you'll do to her."

"Me?" Sera laughs, offended by the very notion.

Kaariss' stern gaze does nothing to deter her.

She shrugs. "Well, you're a right ass, you are."

He decides not to rectify that. "I'm protecting that foolish, horny lapdog of yours. This is for her own good."

"I'm not gonna hear it." Sera stubbornly says. "She tried to tell me."

"But she didn't." Kaariss crosses his arms crossly. "I won't either, but there are other things you should know about. She and everyone else in this damn mercenary company are deluding themselves if they think sweeping this under a rug will magically fix everything."

"I'm not gonna lie to her," Sera frowns at him. "I told her I'd wait, and I'm gonna wait. You try and take it away, I'm gonna shear off your pretty locks when you're sleepin'." He seems unfazed. "Then I'm gonna tell Shok and Katoh and Buckles-"

"Then you don't get any money."

Sera clenches her fists. "I can get 'em some other way, asshole."

"And let your woman work herself to the bone for you even longer?"

She keeps silent, and he knows he's won. "Fuck you." Is the only thing she can say, and she says it with such venom. "Fuck you, right in the arsehole. Hope it hits your love button right where it's good."

Kaariss chuckles and shakes his head. "Ah, that reminds me—do try to muffle it a bit, yes? The whole tavern knows what goes on behind that closed door of yours."

She smirks proudly. "You're just jealous that I'm the one getting laid all night."

"At least until Herah started falling asleep during dinner." He counters. "I swear I saw her nearly plunge into her stew a week ago." He stands up. "Let's go somewhere we can talk in private."

They leave the tavern together, and Kaariss shoots a mean look to the patrons eyeing him. That ought to dissuade them from any ideas regarding his bag of gold coins. Inky joins them from outside, and they walk.

"Where are we goin'?"

"Back to camp."

"What?" Sera makes a sour face. "Went through all that trouble to go back, just like that?"

"I had to make sure everything looked genuine." He explains. "I started planning it the moment I heard that you were looking for jobs."

She complains all the way until they get to their horses, and the qunari's vein nearly protrudes from his skin by the time they get there. He grits his teeth, certain that he'd crush them with the sheer strength of his jaw, until they finally leave the gates. He waits until they're far enough from the guards before he starts talking.

"Herah was training to be a karasaad, a warrior, when her powers started to manifest. I think she was fifteen years old, at the time. She looked quite different, back then—no scars, bright eyes. She was a promising candidate to be part of the forces. Shok trained her himself, and I remember how she and Taashe used to fight over who got to spar with the old man more." He smiles fondly, his usually harsh features softening for just a bit. Then, just as quickly as it appears, it's gone again. He sighs. "One morning, she showed up with these dark circles under her eyes. She told me she had a strange dream, she couldn't sleep. We both brushed it off, until she saw scorch marks on her sword, exactly where she gripped it to block a strike. She went pale and looked like her life was about to be ruined, and I can't say I blame her."

"Yeah, you're all really pissy with mages, yeah?"

"It got worse." He grimly says. "She didn't want to tell it to Shok, thinking he'd report her to the higher ups. She didn't say much to me or Taashe, but we both kept quiet. We saw the sparks conjure on her fingertips, we saw ice forming on her mugs of water, things like that. She saw what they did to Katoh, and she didn't want that. She tried, she really did, but it just got worse. Shit, she was terrified—it all went to hell one night, when she had one of those dreams again. I never asked her what she dreamt, but she damn set her hut on fire. The hut she shared with everyone who saw what she did, everyone who sent her to the Arvaraad to get her collared like a dog."

"Then they bit her, she bit back harder." Sera impatiently fast forwards.

"It's not as easy as that." Kaariss frowns at the interruption. "We lived with people who raised us, taught us everything we knew. Before we knew anything outside of the Qun, we thought very differently from humans and elves. When you see a woman escaping an abusive bunch of savages, what the followers of the Qun saw was a woman who slaughtered her own kind.

Sera rolls her eyes obnoxiously. "Yeah, don't blame her one bit."

"The Saarebas are a group of unlucky sods." He doesn't mind her comment. "The more dangerous ones have their tongues cut off and bound-"

"Buckles told me 'bout this one." Sera frowns at him. "Don't want to hear it no more.

He nods. He wouldn't want to imagine a lover going through it, either. "Something was... wrong. We knew it when we heard the screams. She had pride, she wouldn't beg, but that didn't make the sounds any better. We thought they were just cutting off her tongue, but it couldn't have taken that long. She still won't tell me what happened in there."

She gives him an appalled glare. "Why didn't you bloody stop them, then?"

"Because that's just the way things were." He replies, with a little more bite than necessary. "That's just how things are in the Qun, we didn't know any better until we became Tal-Vashoth. Besides, we weren't about to fight a battle we were going to lose—it was an entire encampment against a bunch of teenagers, with the exception of Shok and Katoh."

"Well, you got out of the shithole , in the end." Sera stubbornly accuses.

Surprisingly, the scathing remark that Sera expects doesn't even come. Kaariss scowls, but the forward gaze that doesn't even remotely fall on her suggests that he's in deep thought. "That's right. We didn't expect it." Not one bit.

"Didn't expect what?" She hurriedly prods.

You. And her, too. "Herah, she went on a rampage." He says, voice trailing off as if he's revisiting the events of that fateful night in his head. 'Rampage.' There was much more to it than that. "There was no stopping her. She fucking slaughtered everyone there." Not just her. His lips tighten, and his fingers clutch harder on the reins of his horse. "We helped, but most of us probably did it so she'd know we didn't mean any harm, so she wouldn't butcher us too."

Nothing new. "She told me this one."

"After that, she ran. We had nowhere to go. If we went to another settlement, they'd know we helped her. Qunari don't take these things lightly, so we became mercenaries. The Valo-Kas." He says, his voice softening. "It was two years before we found her again. Turns out, she joined this other company and just got fired for roasting half their men to death."

Sera narrows her eyes. "You're not shitting me?"

"We took her in. She was too drunk to care about anything anymore. That's around the time she got the scars. Shit, she looked like a walking pincushion, and she fucking hated it too. Threatened to char anyone who looked at her wrong, and with a face like that, we had smoke trailing whenever she went. Most guards are even too scared to tell us off, so that's good. Otherwise, we'd all be in jail for even being seen with the girl. She... she also covered up all the time." He coughs nervously as he says this. "I think she didn't want us to see the scars on her body."

And she still does, even when the heat of summer is enough to even get Cassandra to take of some of her armor. Sera can't help but remember the rough, jagged lines around her Inquisitor's wrists—she can't tell if they're burn marks or lacerations or both. And then she recalls the lines and marks of her whole body, indentations and bumps that she's taken the time to know by heart.

What did they do to you?

"Imagine our surprise when we heard that she's this 'Herald of Andraste'." He chuckles, as if he still can't believe it. "Not even a few months after we got fired again because that bullheaded idiot tried to kill our client, she wrote a letter to us and asked us to come meet her. And you know what? She didn't even sound like she was growling and threatening to flay anyone! When we got there, the oaf had another surprise—she had a girlfriend!"

Sera can't believe she's being quiet, but she still can't believe half the things he's saying about her Buckles. Her sweet, thoughtful Buckles.

"Not only that, but you grabbed her by the horns. She used to mangle anyone who ever tried that." He looks at her, a rare show of respect on his face. He blushes, although he tries to hide it. "Um, so... does she... strip... during sex?"

A disgusted grimace. "What? You one of those people who-"

"Don't flatter yourself." He promptly interrupts her, looking offended. "I was just asking if she'd comfortable... showing the marks on her skin."

"How else am I supposed to eat her out? Fuck her through the knickers? That's stupid." She experimentally extends her tongue as far as she can, and Kaariss would be lying if he said that tongue of hers wasn't almost frighteningly long.

"You are one well hung lesbian." He murmurs, impressed.

Sera curls and uncurls her tongue, turning her head to the side as if trying to figure out how she'd really do it. A salacious smirk takes over her face and her eyes gleam with excitement. "No, not stupid. Figured it out. You're not too bad when you're not being a grump, yeah? Gonna try this on the girl when we get back."

Kaariss facepalms. "Your tent is next to mine. Please, don't."

"Too late." She sticks out her tongue again. "The Herald is going to be touched tonight."

The qunari groans. What have I done?

Just one bottle.

She knows it won't help her sleep better, since it's just one, but it would help just a little bit. She misses Shok's perfect brews of his spiced maraas-lok, her own prized elixir that she'd never be able to live without.

Not anymore.

Leliana and Cassandra have obsessively kept watching eyes on her, sternly forbidding even a meager mug of ale to help her sleep. Gone are the good nights when she downs bottles and bottles from Shok's stash, passing out on her lumpy mattress, finally able to sleep when the alcohol chases away the nightmares. Her mind is only ever at peace when the drinks numb down the underlying terrors that snap at her the moment she closes her eyes.

Solas offers her a mixture of herbs and such to help her sleep, and they help. She only wakes up a few times each night, now, even though the nightmares persist. She's careful not to scream or shout or set an occasional fire, regular things that happen when she wakes up to the smell of burning flesh and the taste of metal in her mouth, senses that have haunted her for too long.

She doesn't want to wake Sera, after all, she reminds herself this when she looks to the other end of the tent. Oh, how she wants to curl up with the elf and kiss her in the morning, but the archer isn't hers. Not yet, anyway. It's obvious that the plucky thief is into her, but she just can't bring herself to sweep her off her feet—she deserves better than a woman whose face is permanently ruined with the scars of a night she'd much rather not think about, scars she has to face every time she looks at herself in the mirror.

Sera mumbles something in her sleep, and even in the dark, Adaar can see the full lips part invitingly. The pink is alluring against her creamy skin, as if begging for the qunari to claim them as her own.

She swears that she'll taste them one day, no one else but her.

Adaar's eyes snap open as the carriage suddenly stops, her head jolting up and her bloodshot eyes tearing open.

"Herah," Blackwall nods at her. "Nice dream?"

She yawns, frustrated with her inability to stretch her arms. This carriage is too damn small. "You can say that."

Cassandra crosses her arms stiffly, as if she's contemplating whether to shale off Varric's limp head from her shoulder. The dwarf snores blissfully in ignorance. "Did you go over the notes Josephine sent you?"

"I did." Adaar rubs her sleepy eyes. "Big importer, lots of money, charitable. Sounds like a nice woman."

"Good. Then let us go." The Seeker tells her, and then looking down to the slumbering merchant beside her.

"Aw, you care." Adaar smirks, cooing at the Nevarran, who glares sharply at her. "Sera doesn't have the heart to wake me either, when-"

"No." Cassandra nearly growls, turning her attention to Varric's slumped form. "Varric, wake up!" She shakes him violently.

Adaar chuckles. This is too easy. Varric grumbles about it all the way until they enter the orphanage, but the Seeker brushes him off coarsely. The building isn't overly fancy, but the well trimmed hedges and sturdy walls are testament to how well the place is cared for. She runs down the information through her head again.

What was the benefactor's name, again?

Shit. Adaar bites her lip, realizing that it's too late to ask the others now- the woman has walked into the room. The lady's brunette hair is pulled into an elaborate bun that looks like it's a braid at the same time. Although strands of gray run through the almond locks, her contemplative cerulean eyes still hold a certain youth and shrewdness to them. Adaar sees the faintest lines of wrinkles and laugh lines on the woman's face, which shows a kind smile that doesn't falter.

The woman's well tailored yet simple blue gown flows like waves around her ankles as she strides to the Inquisition agents' position. Adaar smiles back, wrecking her brain in her effort to remember just what this woman's name is.

"Inquisitor Adaar," Says the woman, her voice regal yet humble. "Seeker Pentaghast, Warden Blackwall, and Mr. Varric Tethras."

Shit. So she memorized all their names.

Fortunately for Adaar, the woman hasn't stopped talking. "My name is Taraline Emmald. Welcome to my humble orphanage."

Every single blood vessel in Adaar's body freezes. "Excuse me?" She laughs sheepishly, vowing to check her ears later. "I thought you said your name was Taraline Emmald."

"That's exactly what I said, Inquisitor." She politely tells her.

Adaar nods slowly, digesting the information at a snail's pace as her brain's machinations seem to halt. "Holy crap."

Le gasp. What do you think is going to happen?

Alright guys, as usual, don't forget to R&R and tell me what twists you'd like to see! Let me know how many of you are reading this regularly, so I'll know how much time I should dedicate to writing the next chapters. See you next week, or the next one!