Adaar rubs her eyes, her palms still sweaty and her voice still cracking uncontrollably. "L-Lady Emmald..." She clears her throat and puts the contract down on the table, turning it to face the merchant. "Are all these zeroes really correct?"

If they are correct, the Inquisition would soon be able to afford higher quality armor for the troops, more medicine for the wounded, and a bunch of other things that Adaar's currently calculating in her head. It would really lessen the load of her paperwork too, and that's something she knows she's looking forward to.

Emmald nods confidently. "Yes, they are. I heard about the Inquisition's efforts of feeding the poor and housing the homeless, and I'm very impressed. Not everyone up there thinks about the people down here." She looks down sadly, sipping her tea. Her eyes are far away, wistfully lost as she looks towards the playing children nearby. "Lady Emmald... It's been around ten years since anyone called me that."

Oh, shit. "Is that so?"

"It's a long story, Inquisitor." Emmald smiles apologetically.

"The day is still long." Crap, now you've done it. "Unless you have other things to attend to?"

"No, I don't." She neatly puts her teacup down, suddenly finding the swirling brown in it very fascinating. She often drank this exact blend of tea with her. It took her a long time to pick her tea set up again. "My husband was a kind man. He had the softest smile and the most tender eyes, and he was smiling, even when they gave his body to me. He was the captain of the guard, you see. I like to think that he died happy because he died saving this poor little girl from a ruthless guard who would rather butcher a child than admit that someone had stolen a piece of stale bread under his watch."

Adaar nods, her throat stiff.

"Yes, that's right. My husband died saving a thief. You may think it was ironic for a guard captain to die defending a criminal, but I didn't. He was doing the right thing, although a lot of people didn't think so. She was this little elf girl with big brown eyes and gapped teeth who had the most mischievous giggle and a bottomless stomach." An affectionate smile crosses her face, longing and wanting. "I should have been angry that he died, but any resentment I had just disappeared when I saw her. My husband gave his life for this girl who had to steal to eat and live. I could not think of a better cause to die for."

"And I could not think of a better man to be a husband and a guard captain."

She gives her a silent thankful smile for the comment. "I named the girl Sera."

I know.

"I taught her to read, to write, everything from mathematics to archery. Just the basics, but she picked them up quick." Her face lights up at memories from long ago. "Oh, you wouldn't believe how natural she was with numbers! She blew the tutors away. But her real talent was with a bow."

Mathematics? That's new.

"Harold was quite proficient with a bow. He was the one who taught me, and I passed it on to her. Imagine how surprised I was when I saw that she started shooting bullseyes at eleven years old!"

Adaar inconspicuously tries to look impressed. "She must've been quite the archer."

"She was." Emmald laughs. "She was troublesome, smart, talented, just like Harold. I knew, then, that I wanted to be the best mother to her."

"I see." Adaar says, leaning a little bit forward.

"I loved her, and she loved me. It was perfect. I was going to raise her into a kind and beautiful lady, be her side when she married." She clicks her tongue at the impossible fantasy. "At least, that's what I thought."

"What happened?" You already know the answer.

"I lied about something." Emmald shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her clamped jaw enough to tell Adaar everything she needs to know. Her petite hands tense and she sighs regretfully. "I shouldn't have done it, Inquisitor." Her voice breaks for a second, but the woman won't let it do that again. "I saw her scream and cry of how much hatred she had for me as the city guards dragged her to the filthy prisons. I went to see her every day, but she would never talk to me. The last thing she said to me was how I was a liar and a hypocrite, and..." Tears begin to pool near the corners of her slightly wrinkled eyes, ones that she blinks away before they can fall into her now cold cup of tea. "She told me that she knew that she really didn't have anyone in this world, never have, and never will."

Adaar can only listen, although she wants so badly to argue, to tell her it's not true. Sera's got her. Emmald is wrong.

"I never saw her again, Inquisitor." She stops blinking away the tears, because they never come. She knows she's cried so much that she can't shed tears anymore, but it doesn't make the words go away. She remembers the rolling tears on the elf's cheeks, remembers how she screamed her hatred at the top of her lungs, and nothing can remedy that. Even time is not so kind as to rob her of that memory. "I heard... There was a demon who attacked the prison that night."

Adaar's attention is piqued. "What?" She's never heard of this before.

"The guards were found dead, all of them with horrific injuries. One of them wrote 'demon' on the walls with his own blood before he died." She lowers her voice to keep any of the kids from hearing her, leaning forward to whisper her next words. "Many of the corpses were burnt beyond recognition, blood streaking the walls and leaking out of every orifice in their bodies."

Blood magic? "Wait," Adaar raises her hands. "How did you know it was a demon?"

"The only servant in the barracks had escaped. She claimed she saw a giant horned creature appear out of thin air, followed by a sickly green mist as it slaughtered the lot alive."

"Out of thin air?" Adaar thoughtfully rubs her chin. That does sound like a demon, although it seems a it off. "That's strange. Demons need to possess someone or something to come out of the Fade and into this world. They don't just appear."

"That's what the servant said. We suspected there was more to the story, but she wouldn't tell us more, no matter what." Emmald rectifies. "There was one person who was gone. That is what usually happens during possession, does it not? The person turns into an abomination."

Adaar slowly nods. Abominations do take several forms, so she doesn't find it difficult to imagine one fitting Emmald's description, but one that brings green mist?

"Sera was gone. The bars of her cell were molten through."

Adaar's eyes narrow. "Wait... You don't think..."

Emmald tiredly sighs. "Perhaps she was a latent mage and the stress of being in prison brought out the worst." Adaar catches her eyes for a second, and they gleam with thoughts of what was and what could have been, the latter being extinguished the moment she closes her eyes and opens them again. "Nevertheless, she is gone, and it was all my fault."

She's not. "Is that why you opened this orphanage."

"It is not redemption I seek, for there is nothing that can erase what I did." She looks the qunari straight in the eye, and Adaar is startled by how old she looks now. Her cerulean eyes dim with hopelessness, and her shoulders slump with a guilt from long ago. "I only hope that I can help these children from the same fate that claimed my poor Sera, and to honor my husband's sacrifice."

"I have no idea what happened during her time here in this Inquisition," Kaariss tells her once the camp is in sight. "But whatever happened, it's because of you. Keep that in mind, because I don't know what will happen to her if you ever break it off with her for some reason or another."

She scoffs. "Me? Break it off with her? You're daft, I tell you."

"You don't know that." He frowns. "You really don't." He mutters under his breath, a certain finality to his words.

He separated with her after that, telling her that they shouldn't be seen together, because "Shok is going to kick my ass if he finds out about this." She doesn't mind, because she's got a fat bag of coins in her pocket and she's been promised that more will be waiting for her in Skyhold.

She tries to remember to the best of her ability. What was Adaar like when she first met her? Quieter than she is now, certainly, but she simply dismissed it as her being shy, or at least because she wasn't head over heels smitten with her yet. She's honed her bullshit detector quite well over the years, and said detector tells her that Kaariss isn't lying. But why would he give her bags of money to tell her not to break up with her girlfriend, anyway?

A small gust of wind blows the boisterous scent of fresh stew to her, and her stomach growls. Her steps grow longer and faster as she licks her lips, turning the corner to find Solas calmly sipping a mug of warm milk as Adaar slowly stirs the pot of hot stew. The elf mage seems to be chuckling over an incoherent sentence that Adaar had told him a few moments before, his smile only dropping once his eyes land on her.

"Ah, you're here." Is all he says to her. "There's some stew for you."

Sera expects Adaar to sweep her up into her arms and lavish her in attention, like she usually does, but she merely looks up at her and smiles. "You're back pretty late."

Solas stands, casually patting Adaar's shoulder as he walks away. "I will be in my tent if you need me."

Adaar gives him a look of acknowledgment before she grabs the empty bowl from atop a chair. After giving the pot a light stir with an old wooden ladle, she pours a generous serving of potatoes, carrots and bits of meat into the bowl, filling it until it's full. "We need to talk."

Sera's stomach drops. Whatever the context, those four words never mean anything good. "Oh no." She lets it slip out, her voice dripping with anxiety. "There's someone else? Or you're just bored?" Maybe fatigue isn't the only reason Adaar hasn't been ravishing her until the wee hours of the morning anymore. Maybe she's tired of the disapproving glares and well-intentioned chastises from Mother Giselle.

"What?" Adaar balks, half laughing at the mere idea. "No, of course not."

Sera audibly sighs in relief when Adaar chortles at the very idea, walking over to her with the steaming bowl of stew and kissing her on the crown of her head. The elf can't believe she's starting to jump to conclusions like some common clingy girlfriend. She has no idea why she would think Adaar would just leave her, but a little voice in her head whispers otherwise. Shut up.

"Hey," Adaar tugs on her hand once she hands her the bowl. "Let's go talk in our tent."

"W-What's wrong?" Sera stammers, her voice trembling enough for Adaar to notice. She almost forgets about the growling in her stomach.

"I'll tell you once we're alone." She opens the tent flap, hurriedly stepping in. The pointy edges of her horns briefly catch on the top of the flap, but she adjusts herself before she tears through it. Again.

Sera reluctantly follows close, the quiet in the tent unwittingly alerting her of her rapidly thumping chest. She sits down next to Adaar when the Tal-Vashoth pats the empty spot next to her on the mattress. "So..."

Adaar opens her mouth and then shuts it again, as if she's unsure of what to say. "I... Um..." She pauses for a while. "I met Lady Emmald today. I figured I should tell you or and avoid the conflict altogether, unlike the protagonists of Cassandra's novels. Even I'm not that fucking dumb." She says, like a child confessing to stealing the last cookie in the jar.

Sera blinks once, and then twice. "What the fuck?"

"Yep." Adaar draws it out awkwardly. "I may have fallen asleep tonight and forgot to check the name of the benefactor that Josephine wanted us to meet." Sera's mouth is still agape, the bowl of stew in her hands untouched. "There's... No way to say this without being awkward, is there?"

Sera scowls. "I don't want to meet her. Tell her to bugger off."

"Sera," Adaar breathes deeply. "She thinks you're dead. And your stew is getting cold."

She shrugs off how Adaar can even think about food right now, but she puts a spoonful of potato chunks and carrots in her mouth. She really is pretty hungry. "You didn't tell her?" She grumbles.

"And risk your wrath?" Adaar wryly asks. "Nope."

The archer doesn't even bother with a humorous response. "What's that bitch doing with the Inquisition anyway?"

"She's funding us, Sera. The contract had a lot of zeroes in it." Adaar explains, carefully picking her next words. "She heard about our efforts to help the homeless and victims of the red templars. As the most charitable noble in Ferelden, she wants in on the action."

Sera would call her out on her phrasing, but she has other things in mind. "What's she like, now?" She asks, a tinge of curiosity in the question.

"Regretful. Tired. Nice, though."

"Good." The elf scowls, without a hint of remorse in the words she speaks. "I hope she fuckin' dies, that lyin' pit viper bitch."

"Sera..."

"Don't." Sera put down her bowl. "We're not gonna hug in some nice family reunion and cry about it, fine? Fine."

"I wasn't about to tell you to do that." Adaar says, an involuntary yawn rising up. She tries to not look at the stack of papers she has to sign, conveniently sitting on her table and waiting for her to scribble on them. "She told me something interesting about the night you escaped."

"Don't know what happened, but I got out because of it." Sera nonchalantly shrugs.

"She mentioned a demon or an abomination wrecking the prison and killing everyone there. You disappeared after the attack." Adaar knows Sera well enough to guess that she probably won't care to find out more about it, period. "What do you remember?"

Sera doesn't give her an answer, only the resentful frown on her face to show that she heard the question. "Not much, since I was lying half dead on the floor? Whatever. I just remembered everyone screaming, and me thinking they all friggin' deserved every moment of it. The demon or whoever made it last real nice and long." She smirks, a wickedness that Adaar has never before seen on her face rearing it's head. She chuckles coldly. "I passed out, or maybe I didn't. Hard to tell. Next thing I know, the qunari lady I told you about was carrying me to an inn."

Adaar sets the bowl aside and scoots herself closer to her. "Emmald thought you were a latent mage. She told me that you probably turned into abomination from the stress sparking your magical abilities and killed everyone."

A strong arm is slung around her shoulder. Sera doesn't make a move to reciprocate. "Well, look at her, spitting up lies again. Fucking snake."

"She didn't know what happened, love." Adaar tries to correct her, only to be met by a stubborn glare. "Believing you were dead helped her move on. She didn't spread it around, or else you would have heard about it sooner."

Right. "And then she opened orphanages in just about every city in Ferelden that's got more than two farms in it, building shelters in Kirkwall after the damn chantry got blown to hell and some other shit that's got to need piles of money to get done." She huffs, pulling up her knees and lying down her chin on her crossed arms. "Couldn't even get to piss her off, even for a bit. I just wanted to get the hell away from that fuck, don't care how much gold she's spent trying to make up for it."

"Sera-"

"Herah!" Solas barrels into the tent, just nearly tripping into the empty bowl by the mattress. "Cassandra isn't taking it well. Varric... Well, you might want to see them."

"I hope you know that I am not going to get in the way of Cassandra and her fists." Adaar deadpans as she pushes herself up, following the mage outside. She gives Sera a sorry look as she turns to find the pair. "Her iron-clad fists, no less." She mutters.

For a lack of better words, Sera is bored, quite mad, and there's nothing for her to do. One of Leliana's ravens carried a message from Iron Bull, Dorian, Blackwall and Vivienne, telling them that they will be back to their camp tomorrow due to some typical problem or another during one of their endeavors.

That leaves her with Adaar, Varric, Cassandra, and Solas, and all of them are dealing with whatever it is Cassandra is livid about, which really could be anything. With a sigh, she walks out into the cold night air, thinking that she's better off watching them discuss important things than just sleeping alone. It doesn't take long until she hears Cassandra's voice, and even shorter to see what's going on.

The Seeker is literally shaking with rage, her cheeks flushed red and her hands curled like stone into hard fists that look ready to lash out at anyone within three feet of her position. Her dagger is buried to the hilt in the wood of the table, while Varric silently sits and looks down at the old grip of the weapon instead of it's owner's face.

A further inspection of Cassandra's face shows a suspicious lack of murder in her eyes, a fire that Sera often observes during their battles together. Of course, there's rage, but not the usual ones that drive her into her usual tirades. There's hurt, sadness, betrayal. "You lied to me, Varric. You said you didn't know where she was!"

"God damn it, Seeker, I'm sorry." Varric sighs, for once having no idea what words to say. "I know I lied, but I had to. If I had told you, you probably would have thrown her in jail!"

"Do you know why I wanted to find Hawke? Find Queen Cousland?" Cassandra's voice is slow and gruff, like an animal about to pounce. She certainly looks like one, with the feral snarl on her face.

Varric doesn't answer.

"She or the Queen could have been the Inquisitor and saved Justinia, prevented all this from ever happening!" She spits the words out, pointing an accusatory finger towards him. "I thought their disappearance was related, but no." She stares down at him, disgusted. "It was just you."

"You have no idea what Hawke has gone through." Varric stands. He has a lot to stand on before he reaches her height, but he doesn't think about that. "Every templar in Thedas is looking for the woman who killed the Knight-Commander. We have an Inquisitor already, someone who agreed to being one. Hawke?" He raises his head in defiance. "She wouldn't have agreed to become one, anyway."

Cassandra's stern gaze doesn't waver. "I was a blighted fool to trust you, Varric. I knew you lied, and still, you spun your story and I bought it." Adaar keeps quiet, for a while. She has never seen the Seeker so raw, so vulnerable. The qunari fears that one wrong word will undo everything, and so she doesn't spreak.

"I did, Cassandra." Varric's voice goes soft at the sound of her name. "I'm sorry. That was the only time, I promise."

Doubt still lingers in Cassandra's gaze, still and not moving. Finally, she turns around, pinching the brow. She's surprised to find angry tears brewing by the corners of her eyes, but damn if she lets anyone see them. "Leave me, Varric."

Sera feels a tap on her shoulder. She swats the hand away, facing the intruder, only to be met by someone who she doesn't recognize. The first thing she notices is the streak of blood red across the woman's nose, and the second is a pair of brilliant blue eyes that seem to stand out all the more against the woman's fair skin, slightly tanned from her long travels in the wilderness. Her short brown hair moves gently as the wind blows through. She doesn't even hear the rising voices and overturned chairs and tables, courtesy of the lovely Seeker Pentaghast.

The stranger pulls her aside, and Sera would punch her in her pretty nose if she hasn't already guessed who she is. "So, warm family reunion?" Hawke asks, her eyes dulled with fatigue but still twinkling bright.

Alright, shit will start to get real very, very soon. The reason I made Cassandra not try to punch Varric like she did in the game is because I think the Inner Circle should be pretty closer than they are in the game. Of course, they have their disagreements and most of them aren't BFFs, but fighting for your life with someone kinda brings you closer together, don't you think?

So, yeah, I was able to crane out an update during a weekday, for once. Yay? As usual, I'm open to recommendations for plot twists/scenes that may be used in the future chapters. I only have two hands, so tell me how many of you are still reading this and I'll try to push out another update quickly, depending on how much responses I get. I'll be working on my other fics, meanwhile.

Thanks for reading!