Orzammar

Sereda leaned back in her chair, tapping on the armrest as Rica led her brother and his companions from the room. "You're hardly qualified for the Silent Sisters, Trian. Do try to speak up" she finally remarked, watching the Prince squirm as the Casteless enforcers moved into a closer formation around them.

"I thought you were dead…"

"Thought, or hoped? Is my survival yet another disappointment for you?"

Snorting in anger, he strode forward and slapped her across the face. "How dare… is that all you think of me?" he begged as the rage drained in a breath. "Was I really so bad?"

Poking at the split lip with her tongue, Sereda gave a hollow chuckle. "You know the answer to that, don't you?"

"… I suppose I do." Nodding as his expression slumped; she motioned to two of the guards. They dragged two chairs over to a small table, and saluted as she walked over. "Thank you, Jern. Akel. Please, leave us." They bowed slightly, before waving the others to stand down.

Trian hesitantly sat in the opposite seat, watching the guards file out. "... Sister?"

"If I wished you harm, I'd have followed through already. I never cared for all the underhanded tricks and traps… which is what we need to talk about."

"Bhelen…" Trian hissed at the thought.

"For starters" she replied, pouring a large bottle into two mugs.

Softly placing the baby back in the crib, Brosca smiled back at his beaming sister.

"He's watching you! Endrin's going to be so clever, I can tell."

"Just like you, Rica. She gave you this whole room for his nursery?"

"She's been so good to us, despite everything. Even Mother thinks so."

"Is she here too?"

"Yes, but she's napping in her room. She insists on taking a night-watch over him, and she cut back on her drinking. Do talk to her before you go."

"I'll try… I promise." Taking another look at his nephew, Faren slid an arm across his older sister's shoulder as they quietly walked out together. "You're still amazing, I hope you know that?"

Returning the gesture, she nodded. "You're better than you realise, too."

"You're certain of this?" Trian asked, draining the mug.

"I had a lot of time to think, while I was bed-ridden. They did what they could, the scavengers who pulled me out from the rubble, but I'll probably have the limp forever." She looked down at her scarred leg. "They only bothered checking the rock-pile because my leg had been caught in the collapse and so my foot was partly hanging out… at least they found me, who knows would have happened if a buyable group of guards found me… or the Darkspawn…" Refilling his drink, she continued. "Whatever else we could say about him, Bhelen was not an idiot. Why would he send thugs to kill me, if his goal was to frame me for your murder? Or you for mine?"

"That… is a very good question. You suspect Harrowmont?"

"Consider this: Pyral had arranged it before my Proving, and when you and he seized on that fiasco to discredit me, he tries to cancel and get his coin back. When he learns I would still be on the expedition, with a mission that would possibly boost me, he panics and hires Beraht again. Unsure if the first group were recalled, they send more. If they were really Bhelen's men, they wouldn't have admitted that… and he wouldn't have used his own ring."

"But then I botch both their plans by being an overbearing moron…"

"All their schemes collapse."

"But Harrowmont had been the most vocal about pushing you, as opposed to me?"

"Even though he was an avowed Traditionalist… think about it. Someone like him was never going to support the election of a woman. If I were really his favourite, he wouldn't have sided with your condemnation about the Proving. He wanted it to pass, so that when the time came, he could point at your motion and say something like 'Trian's such a paranoid Nug-Humper that he dishonoured his own sister, even though she had sworn her loyalty to him repeatedly' to make himself look better than you."

"Nug-Humper? Really?"

"You heard me. "

"So he was counting on my paranoia about you?"

"The frog amongst the scorpions…"

"What?"

"Just a story I heard from a Human envoy, when I was a child" she shrugged, before holding up three fingers. "To him, I was just an instrument to be played… and when others sang along, he had to get me out of the way, I was a wild-card he might not have been able to beat. In Bhelen's mind, I was a scapegoat." With one finger still in the air, she waited for Trian's response.

"… Which leaves the idiot, who mistook you for a chew-toy. Think you might be able to forgive him, one day?"

"I'd like to, given time." She stood and walked around the table, placing a hand on his shoulder. "For what it's worth, you still have my support against Harrowmont. In return, I have my own favour to ask."

Trian nodded with hesitation. "I more than owe you..."

"When it's done, and you're King… I leave, and take the Casteless with me. We find our own place, and you do not try to stop us. I may not care about the throne, but these people need my leadership, and I will not allow them to live like this anymore." She noisily slammed down her mug, watching her brother intently. "Are we agreed?"

Brecilian Forest

Shoving through the undergrowth, Morrigan sighed in exasperation as she found the camp-site unattended. "Am I to do everything this evening?" she asked herself, while stomping towards the nearby stream. Noticing a clumsy pile of wood on the other side of Surana's abandoned tent, she slowed down and took a breath. 'I wonder if she took care of that before leaving… he had better not sulking again.' "Speak up!" she yelled, waiting a few seconds before Garahel barked in response. 'That way…'

Following the path, the Witch found Theron sitting against a tree with the Mabari lying across his legs. Garahel looked up at her, before dropping his head back onto his paws. Still staring at the running water, Theron pointed at two skinned rabbits that hung from a branch. "I've not forgotten" he mumbled, throwing a piece of bark into the water. "I'm still just thinking…"

"Zathrian again?"

"How far he took it… I wonder if that's how I sounded, with some of my rants toward Alistair."

"I hardly think mocking that fool is the same as choking countless people with misplaced hatred."

"Sure, he's hardly a genius and brings it on himself – but what's the point of blaming him for what his Commander did?"

"Truthfully, 'tis rather indulgent. Not to worry, though, he'll give you ample material himself."

'Is she missing the point on purpose? Of course, Theron – the discussion isn't about her, why would she care?' "I better get these cooking" he said, grabbing the rabbits as he stood. "Think Neria can find this place?"

"I would hope so – she may not spot the ruins or fire amongst the trees, but the Dalish clearing and its stench of Halla leavings should be evident. From there to here is easily travelled."

Shortly after dusk began to fall, Theron looked up from the stew pot as Garahel began barking in short intervals. Listening closer, he heard a hoarse bird-cry alternate with the Hound. "I expect that will be her now… I better help, in case this mongrel is not a sufficient beacon" Morrigan murmured, sending a blast of light into the sky above the trees.

He whined in response to her insult, as a small hawk landed nearby. A quick burst of energy flashed, before Neria fell back onto the grass from a crouched position. "Next time, I'm going to take longer rest-stops" she gasped, rolling her shoulders. "Especially if I'm carrying things… I'm not sure how the weight balance works when shape-shifting."

Theron looked about the camp-site, confused. "I think you might have dropped it… I didn't see you clutching anything when you arrived."

She shook her head, before patting her pocket. "No, I had them in here while I flew back."

Furrowing his brow, the Elvish Warden turned to Morrigan. "… let me guess: Magic?"

"Magic."

"Fair enough" he shrugged, deciding to focus on his cooking. 'I'm sure any attempted explanation of that will just keep me awake all night, if I try to make sense of it…'

"I'm not sure where they actually went, but I'll just say magic clothes have magic pockets" Neria said, taking a seat beside the fire. Handing over some herbs, she then produced a bone as well. "Anders swiped these from the Tower kitchen before he left… I have no idea why he took the bone." Tossing it to Garahel, she added "I thought it best not to ask, knowing him."

"How's he doing?"

"Well enough… he delivered the treaty, but he's not sure how much help they might be. One of the Enchanters tried starting a rebellion – they were put down, but the death count wasn't known when he set out. His group are heading for Redcliffe, to check in with the King, so he agreed to let them know we have an agreement with Lanaya."

"He's got a group now?"

"The farm-boy who was trailing that Templar… he wasn't even allowed onto Kinloch Island, so I guess he's just tagging along until the next town. Wynne decided to volunteer herself too, no doubt to keep an eye on Anders. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"That's the one who was at Ostagar? The bossy one?"

"Did she segue into a lesson, hidden in a story?"

"She turned a question about Darkspawn into something about Chantry teachings… I was still drifting in and out, even on my feet."

"That sounds like her… I told her about Aneirin, so she insisted I hand him this." Pulling out a roll of paper, she laughed. "I think she was more disappointed in my attire, than the shape-shifting. She's oddly pragmatic like that... but I think this would have been a different matter" she smirked, lifting up an old book. "Morrigan!"

"He found it?" the Witch asked in anticipation, marching over.

"While the Templars were helping Irving downstairs, he hung back and may just have taken the opportunity to paw through all of Irving's private goodies. He gave it to me while Wynne was working on her letter, so here you go" Neria explained, handing over the Grimoire.

"I half-expected him to forget… perhaps he is not as scatter-brained as the other Blondes we've had to deal with."

"What's this?"

"An old tome of Mother's, stolen years ago by a Templar who was wise enough not to challenge her directly. Somehow he took it for a trophy and escaped intact… and now I can pore over it as well, for some of Mother's closer-held secrets."

"Neria, you still want to study those tomes we found inside the ruins?"

She nodded enthusiastically "Lost Dalish 'Arcane warfare', not seen since the Imperium was pushed back? Sounds well worth the translation headaches to me."

"To use against Emissaries?"

"That too" she smiled. "Mostly, because it's fascinating."

"Fair enough… while you two are studying, I think I'll make a quick run into Denerim. We're not that far away, and I can get some supplies and information. I'll also report to Teyrn Loghain, we should keep him appraised on the situation."

Denerim

Snarling at the guards to leave, Loghain kept his eyes locked on the prison door. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked the caged man inside.

Squinting through a blackened eye, he sighed in relief. "Teyrn… I did it, and stayed silent like you said! Are you here to release me?"

"He was not your target!" Loghain hissed, entering the small cell. "Make your story good, before I gut you."

"But… he was the man you mentioned. I was sure! Same name and everything!"

"What book?"

"It was still stuffed in my pack, from the Circle… I grabbed some random books in the library, to look busy while I copied maps for a travel route. One was all about the Arls and Banns, that's why I told you I could find the Arl! It's still in my room, upstairs."

Slamming the door locked behind him, Loghain motioned him to sit down. "Keep your mouth shut about this, until I return!" Returning to the guards near the stair-case, he grabbed one by the arm. "This mage… Jowan, where was he sleeping?"

"Second room on the right, servant's wing."

Shoving him out of the way, the Regent soon reached the room. Quickly finding the book, he sat upon the table and began flicking through. 'I shall find the right page, and slam his face into it as he's dragged off by Howe's little torture team… wait…' Finding a page covered in various notations, Loghain groaned in painful realisation.

Arl Rendorn, Redcliffe. (Silent 'R'? Keep hearing 'Rendon'… same Arling, and close enough)

Notable ally of the true Royalty during the Rebellion.

Died during Battle of West Hill (Curious… erroneous reports? Book mentions Maric's rumoured 'deaths' on his pages, so such things were spread without confirmation…)

Survived by his three children – two boys, one woman. (Have confirmed that target has three children… sound younger? Book was reprinted with without updating the year of publication?)

"Publication year?" Flipping to the inside cover, Loghain looked again. "9.04…. damned idiot!"

(Perhaps it is Rendon Jr? Other servants confirm his last Arling was further west, before being promoted to Arl of Denerim. Family name is off, but all the Lords seem to use their first names – Teyrn Loghain, Bann Alfstanna, Arl Rendorn… and someone said his father was a traitor during Rebellion. He must have changed surname.)

(All evidence agrees – will volunteer to deliver his food tonight, add poison before approaching dining room. Thomas spending most nights at Pearl, so only one plate. No chance of wrong target)

Slamming the book shut, Loghain growled at the situation. Striding back to the staircase, he descended and found Thomas outside the cell. "Our captive has the most interesting tale… which you know?" he said carefully, watching the Regent's face. Opening to the earlier page, Loghain slammed it into the younger man's chest.

"Read it" he snarled, before turning to Jowan's cell. "You had the wrong target, you moron! Did I not make it clear?"

"I don't understand… the book…"

"Damn the book, and you with it!"

"'all the Lords seem to use their first name'..." Thomas read out loud, studying the page. "Maybe using surnames is a northern thing. No, there's Bryland and Wulff, in the south… it doesn't make sense, if you think about it…" Looking over at Loghain's expression, he instantly knew to shut up.

"I'll leave him to your watch" the fuming Regent hissed, before beginning to walk away. "Just be careful… he managed to escape the Circle, with his powers."

"Not to worry, Sire. Father was already expecting some... experts, in such matters, from Tevinter. No doubt they can handle this one… and hopefully this poison too, when they arrive."

Making no response, Loghain simply left the Estate and continued out into the evening darkness.

The Rendon/Rendorn and name/surname things were odd little bits I noticed some time again... it's my AU, (refresher disclaimer: Everything else is BioWare's) so I'll pull at frayed edges, such as the redundant overkill of Bhelen's scheme, and make them into plot points if I want. No Redcliffe Crew, but the chapter's long enough, so they can wait until it's morning.