We're halfway to the Palace, when Crybaby catches up to us. "Wait, wait… I should come too."

That's a matter of debate… I glance up at Morrie, of course she looks just as impressed.

Mistress simply shrugs. "If you like. It makes sense for both of us to get the treaty confirmed. Represent the Order, and such."

He nods, nervously. "That's true as well."

As we continue on, Morrie turns to him. "True as well? Does that mean you came for another reason?"

"I guess I… well, rather than just react to her decisions, I should have my say before. Right?"

If it stops you complaining? "My, my… that almost sounded decisive. Is it your idea, or did they put it in your head during your Deep Roads sojourn?"

Crybaby huffs, and draws up his shoulders. "I've been thinking about it for a while, if you must know… and I was talking to Wynne."

I told you not to listen to her meddling! Shaking her head, Morrie laughs. "Naturally!"

He rolls his eyes. "If you're done interrupting… she said it'd be healthier than obsessing over what's already done. Of course, she had to turn it into a speech about how I 'wasn't born to follow.' It's not in my blood, and so on."

"Ah, so you failed to hide your little secret from the meddlesome crone. You're slipping…"

"I vaguely remember her being at Ostagar – since she would probably have seen Cailan in camp, she'd figure it out. So no point trying to hide it." We're going up the Palace stairs when he continues. "Besides… we're in this together. If we can't trust each other, how can we in a fight?"

Mistress's head suddenly faces over her shoulder, to look at the three of us. After a moment, she turns back to the doors as the guards open them. "Alistair, you're right… wouldn't want people to think you don't trust them, after all."

"Exactly" Crybaby nods at her back. "I mean, it'd be disrespectful to hide stuff."

… Oh, you should have stopped talking a few turns back I think, watching her neck slightly stiffen. "There's Vartag. Let's get this done."

"Ah, good to see you again Wardens! We hear you did quite well" Dwarfie says as we walk over. "Bhelen would like to speak with you."

Mistress gives him a smile. "We would be honoured. When would be a suitable time?"

"Now, if possible. With the deadlock, he has a flexible schedule."

… Don't tell me the stupid deadlock isn't over yet. For Dane's sake!

Dwarfie looks at the rest of us briefly, and gestures to a curtain. "Your friends can wait over there."

Mistress nods, and turns to us. "Come on then, Alistair. We'll see you two shortly."

He blinks in surprise. "... Like I wanted. Right."

I don't think that's the reason… Dwarfie said her friends can wait, so that counts you out. I'm pretty sure Biddy's hiding something, too, for all your babbling about trust. She doesn't … seem right. I don't know – not quite like a human should. Maybe it's her magicness… Swamp Lady was like that too.

That's… fifteen minutes. I smack my paw on the stone again. Morrie exhales, and shoots a frustrated look at me. What?! I'm counting how long we're here… there's no clock in this side-room, so I do it my way. And it'll be sixteen minutes in… 9. 8. 7…

"Don't."

Ugh! Fine! I'll just look around and see if the room's changed yet. Same stones on the floor, same dividing curtain… same bored looking woman, not letting me have any fun. No offense, Morrie, I love you and all… but you need to lighten up sometimes. Hmm… I wonder if these stones are as smooth as they look.

I start dragging myself along them, slowly. Fairly nice and smooth so far… "I don't even know what you're doing… but can you not simply sit still? Preferably in the corner…"

But I'm bored! I know you're bored too, if you can't just ignore me.

Hey! Know what me and Mistress used to do, if it was too rainy and we couldn't go out? Do you? Do you?! … Well, apart from raid Nan's larder. It's probably bad manners to raid the Prince's food. So let's do the other thing. I roll on my back, and stare up at Morrie. Belly-rubs! … She always had fun. Come on!

"… No."

Come on…

"No."

Coooome onnnnn….

"Absolutely not…"

I stretch out and tap her leg with a paw. They'll never know.

"Aren't war-hounds supposed to have some semblance of pride?" she asks, frowning at me.

Naturally. That's why we only let winners do this. We don't roll over for just anyone… Come on. Don't you want to be a winner?

"You're not going to let this foolishness go, are you?"

It's not foo… sorry. I mean: tis not foolishness.

Sighing, she unfolds her legs. "If it gets you to stop your infernal moaning…" A boot cautiously taps my stomach, before rolling about in a circle. Before she can get a decent rhythm going, she pulls away to sit upright. I'm about to complain, when the dividing curtain pulls open. A nervous looking Dwarf woman sticks her head in.

"… Are you one of the Grey Wardens?"

"Merely an associate of theirs… is there something you need?" Morrie asks.

"I… well, I'd like to ask them something. If my guess is correct."

"Hmm… it seems like everyone else has. They're speaking with this Prince of yours, I believe."

Nodding slightly, she sits down on a different bench. "I'm sorry… if I'm disturbing you. I heard your voice, and thought the Wardens were in here."

"Just him, and his dreary squirming" Morrie replies, motioning at me. What a kidder!

We're all just sitting in awkward silence, so I start some quick number-figuring ... Twenty-two! I reach out and smack a tile. Morrie's hissed groan makes the woman look about the room.

The curtain finally pulls back, and Mistress motions us up. "Let's be…" she pauses, noticing the Dwarf. "Hello."

"Are you the Grey Warden?" she asks, sitting up.

"One of" Mistress replies. "… Can I help you?"

"Oh – I hope so. Is it true, Bhelen is sending you after Jarvia?"

"He asked us to deal with her, yes."

"I expected as much, from what I've been hearing… I-"

"You have a friend in her organisation?" Mistress offers, quietly.

"Not in… not anymore, at least. My sister… the old Carta leader, Beraht, had her snatched from the guardhouse, to punish her himself. Word was, she got loose long enough to kill him… but she was caught before she could escape." Taking a breath, she wrings her hands. "We… nobody's heard anything since. Please… if you find out anything – I just want to know, one way or another. Her name w… is Natia. If you find Leske, he should be able to tell you. They don't allow me far from the Palace, in case my son needs me."

Mistress nods, and puts a hand on her shoulder. "I… I won't promise anything, but I'll try."

"Thank you…" she gets up, looking back and forward at everyone. "Please, have Vartag summon me from the nursery if you find anything."

"Who was that?" Crybaby asks, watching her go down a hallway.

"A maid, probably" Morrie suggests. "She came in a few minutes ago, looking for the two of you."

"Not with the tattoo" Mistress says quietly. "They wouldn't let her near any domestic work, considering her worthless hands."

Crybaby looks up, confused. "Tattoo?"

"She's Casteless, by the look… so she's likely someone's mistress. Since she knows enough to guess Bhelen's plan… well, it's obvious who she's been under."

"I don't quite understand" Morrie says. "These Casteless… they're too low and dirty to handle tools or food."

Crybaby nods. "Bottom of the pile, from what I hear."

"But they're not so foul that the Nobles will rut with them? They can bear their children, but not a banner?"

"… Huh" Crybaby frowns in thought. "The only thing I know about Dwarven politics is don't ask."

"A Noble's children get risen up, so the more offspring, the more allies they'll have in a generation" Mistress tells them, as we exit the Palace. "That or the Nobles probably bent the rules about it, so they could get their end away, guilt-free."

"Oh, I don't doubt that was their goal" Morrie chuckles, "but I'm just surprised it extends all the way to the gutter-dwellers."

"They're the most eager to impress, so they have fewer boundaries" Mistress replies. "I knew a seamstress once, who…"

"… Never mind" Crybaby quickly cuts in. "I'm quite familiar with nobles and star-struck servants, thanks."

Morrie nods in agreement "Yes… I've no interest in hearing about your brother's dalliances."

"Suit yourselves… anyway, I guess it's something the men cooked up."

"But they acknowledge the child…" Morrie smirks at Crybaby. "Perhaps you should have been a Dwarf."

"No thanks… beards are too itchy for my liking."

"It sounds like Bhelen has… I'm not sure if a child to an actual wife takes precedence, if she pops one out" Mistress adds.

"Ah yes… because a child is somehow more his son if he's in some absurd ceremony beforehand. If they aren't prepared for the consequences, tis their own fault."

"You won't hear me arguing" Crybaby mutters.

You humans make these things too complicated, for me… preferred litters and bonds and such. This is why I find an old boot or something, when I'm all worked up. I'm not looking to spend my life with it, or raise puppies… I just need something soft for a few minutes.

For a chapter that sprang into my mind without any goal, I'm quite happy with this one. Especially Max's reactions.

Again, a thanks to everyone reading, following and so forth. Melys for the always-helpful feedback, in particular.