Author's note: Yes, I know, it took a long time for this chapter to come out. Internet issues and real life got cluttered.

Still, I scrounged up a special treat for you all. Those interested in what Raonar was like when he was seven, and how he got along with a 10 year-old Trian, might want to take a look at my first one-shot ever, Premeditated. It is part of this same continuity and may shed some light on the protagonist's character.

Of course, you may also want to read it if you like unconventional uses for nugs and seeing all noble house heads covered in a mysterious red fluid. You can find it in my profile page of course.


Chapter 29: Assumptions

"-. .-"

Excerpt from journal of Senior Enchanter Wynne

19 Solis, 9:30 Dragon: Again I am reminded of how actually getting a chance to write anything down while traveling is proving to be more of a challenge than I suspected. I never thought it would be so difficult to find a suitable sitting position when camping on the side of the road. Also, the fire, while strong, hardly rivals the brightness of the magical lamps in the Circle Tower, so I must write more slowly and carefully, lest I end up leaving behind an illegible mess that even I would have trouble sorting out. But I am getting ahead of myself. First I should recount the events that led to my becoming part of this unusual convoy before my old age catches up to me and I end up doing what old people are best known for, which is losing one's initial train of thought.

Uldred's mad scheme to turn all mages into abominations was thwarted by the timely arrival of the Grey Wardens. The actual conclusion of that whole ordeal was actually very 'anticlimactic', to use the supposed Warden Commander's own words. I write here 'supposed' for reasons I will go into later.

While some mages were turned into abominations, most of them, along with the apprentices, were rescued before that mad man had a chance to turn them. It was fortunate that the Wardens reached the Circle so soon after that whole mess began. Uldred had apparently been focusing on turning the more powerful mages first, since he wanted to amass more power quickly. According to Irving, Uldred also said at some point that, once he had enough abominations at his command (and they needed to be strong, hence his targeting of the more accomplished mages) he could start dividing them into groups and twist more mages at once.

After the Wardens eliminated him in just a few seconds and in what could only be described as a means I would never even have thought about, Irving was able to convince Knight Commander Greagoir that the Circle was safe again. Greagoir was also quite pleased to hear that most of the Templars on the higher levels had even been freed from mind domination.

I decided to withhold whatever... misgivings I have with Alim Surana's... unusual methods after a rather... straightforward, for lack of a better word, private speech on the part of the so-called Warden Commander. In the end, I was forced to admit that, had Alim not possessed his special knowledge, we would have likely had to kill every single templar we encountered on our way up the tower. I still have reservations towards Alim and I will keep a close eye on him for as long as I, Irving and the other mages accompany the Wardens and their assistants. So long as he does not get to make the decisions, I will not be against the Mages' collaboration with the Grey Wardens.

And so comes the issue of how I ended up accompanying this strange band of travelers. Once Irving got better and finished sorting things out with Greagoir, we finally learned that the Grey Wardens had actually come to the tower seeking the mages' help to exorcise a small boy in Redcliffe. It is strange how such a case of demon possession can be seen as the indirect fortune for the rest of us. Granted, the Treaty presented to us, and which demands our assistance against the Blight, may have led the Wardens to our door all the same, but there is no guarantee they would have arrived in time to actually save the mages.

It is with great misgivings that I am forced to consider this Connor's possession an indirect contributing factor to our salvation. I dare say the Right of Annulment would have been the only other possible outcome. That or Uldred's scheme would have succeeded.

It took a couple o days for Irving and the others to fully recover and prepare for the journey. So now we are bound to reach Redcliffe Castle on the morrow, where we will perform a ritual and send one mage into the Fade to fight off whatever demon is possessing that poor child. But as we travel, I suppose I will take the time to perhaps get to know these Wardens better and see if they require any assistance. They all seem so young and inexperienced, and their 'helpers' are a colored bunch. I am especially suspicious of this Morrigan character, and slightly wary of Shale and Sten, though the latter seems more stoic than antisocial. At least this girl, Leliana, seems pleasant enough.

Still, I find that these seven Wardens themselves are more than interesting.

Alistair seems like a fine young lad. A bit childish perhaps, but his heart is in the right place and he is around the same age as my son would be about now. He seems to like making jokes about everything, though I wonder why he feels the need to deflect questions with humor.

I was a bit surprised to learn that the lady which Alistair spends most of his time around is, by all accounts, the heir to the Cousland line. Gwenith I believe her name was. I will attempt to learn just what circumstances led to her becoming a Grey Warden. From what I can gleam, they weren't pretty. it would also be a shame for her to start down an unfortunate path because of a misfortune pileup and no one to offer any sort of guidance.

Kallian looks like a fine girl. I must admit, while I was hailed as a least mildly attractive at her age, I doubt I could have matched her. On the other hand, she seems unusually subdued at times. I wonder just what kind of dream she had back at the tower, and if that's the only reason for how closed off she has been these past days. My questions regarding the subject were met with either refusal to respond or answers vague enough to not transmit any information, though enough to suggest it was probably worse than the illusion I was trapped in. Pity that such a young flower would go through such a disturbing experience at the age of only 18.

The red-haired dwarf. Faren was it? Dwarves have such unusual names. Still, he appears to be a fine young man, especially mindful of Kallian's wellbeing. I cannot help but feel there is something brewing between those two, though one may say that the scene immediately after Kallian's awakening from that nightmare was a clear signal of that. On the other hand, those odd... chain-linked daggers of his, and his hidden blades make him something of an oddity. There was one thing I noticed, however. I waited until he was more or less in high spirits before I got into a conversation with him. When I asked him about that tattoo on his face, and if it meant anything, he seemed to actually wince and promptly excused himself.

That other dwarf was around and simply told me never to mention it in front of him, especially when he's in a good mood. My questions about it were met with no answer, except that he'll ask him if it's 'ok to tell me.'

The Dalish elf, Theron, is especially solitary, though he was not actually reluctant to speak to me. More like he had no qualms about being as blunt as possible and apparently completely honest, as long as I did not demand any lengthy sentences from him. From what I gathered, he doesn't like humans much and is only doing his best to stop the Blight because he owes it to someone to make sure the taint doesn't harm anyone ever again. As expected, he did not speak more on that subject.

And now, for the two that have given me the most conflicting feelings.

Alim Surana. He was Irving's prized pupil, much in the way that Daria Amell was. Hmm, it seems that the two of them are actually having a conversation right this moment, since she volunteered to assist in the exorcism, though I think she just jumped at the chance to be away from the tower for once. I wonder if she knows of his being a Blood Mage. I honestly don't know what to make of him. I have no idea how long he has known blood magic, since it is practically impossible for him to have gained all of its secrets in the two months since he's drafting into the Grey Wardens, especially considering that he has had barely any chance to study any tomes not found in the Circle library itself.

Had he been part of Uldred's Blood Mage cartel prior to that fiasco with Jowan? Did he learn blood magic on his own somehow? Regardless, I do not really trust him, though he did free all those Templars, even though most mages would have jumped at the chance to be rid of them altogether. On the other hand, being able to counter demonic mind control means his knowledge of the forbidden arts is of the highest caliber, likely on par with that of Tevinter Magisters, if not higher. If he is such a prodigy, I can only wonder why he concealed his talent over the past few years. What are his goals I wonder...

I am still a bit put out at how easily I was fooled by that demon's illusion and at the fact that it was Alim, of all people, that snapped me out of it. I was, on the other hand, surprised at how Alim so bluntly asked me if what Petra spoke of, that fight with a demon, left me more injured than I let on. Apparently, me being fooled by a demon so easily struck a cord as to how I am still alive now... He is certainly very perceptive.

And now, for the Warden Commander himself.

I never thought I'd say this, but trying to figure him out has given me more of a headache than Alim has. Besides the fact that Raonar is one of the strangest names I ever came upon (and my tongue hurts if I repeat it too many times), I haven't actually been able to get a feel of his personality. Actually, it's more like he doesn't have a personality at all. His attitude seems to change according to whatever situation he finds himself in. I remember how he made light of my threat to strike him down if he moved against the apprentices when he and the others stumbled upon the room I had sealed with barriers, to keep the monsters at bay. It's not that he tried to ridicule me, more like he couldn't help himself from stating the obvious fact that I would have stood no chance against them, even with the aid of Petra and the other two mages there.

Later, he turned contemplative, of all things, when faced with revenants and abominations, as well as shades and other creatures form the Fade. His comment before and after battles seemed to suggest he was more interested in how the Veil worked instead of being in the least afraid, or at least nervous when those things engaged us. He also displayed some unusual abilities that could only be magical. This was especially odd, since he was not only a non-mage, but dwarves should be completely incapable of magic. I will have to ask him about it soon, I am afraid my curiosity won't let me sleep otherwise. I assume his white hair and eyes are tied to whatever gave him this power.

Then, there was the matter of that speech he gave me, the one that dissuaded me from trying to "rat out Alim to Greagoir for having used his blood magic to save more people than all the other mages put together would have been capable of" as the dwarf said it. I relented not so much because he made good points, but because I was amazed at how he actually managed to get me to listen to a lecture... That hasn't happened to me since before I took on my first apprentice, which was decades ago.

Finally, the way he so casually played with Uldred's head was... disturbing to say the least. While I admit that dying in such an anticlimactic way was fitting for Udred, the memory of Raonar acting the tragic mourner while holding Uldred's head in his palm still makes me shudder. How in Thedas did he actually get to be the leader of Ferelden's Grey Wardens after the tragedy at Ostagar I have no idea. I can only hope that apparent insanity was just that: apparent.

Another reason I am wary of him is that he seems to confide in Alim Surana quite a bit, even in spite of the latter's belligerent use of blood magic. It was also interesting how those two were able to locate each other even in the Fade.

In the end, however, I still can't seem to get a feel of what he is underneath his continually shifting exterior. The only unarguable fact about him is that he seems to have a firm control over this group of his. Whatever orders I have witnessed him give so far were followed immediately, during or out of battle alike. He also seems to stay level under duress, as though he has seen many battles already. I wonder where that discipline comes from.

But what most interests me is the nagging feeling that there is something I'm missing...

"Writing a journal eh?"

Wynne almost jumped out of her skin and she was startled enough that her tome almost flew into the fire.

And there was much heavy breathing and heart pounding before the old woman could speak again. "By the heavens, you startled me. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

The Warden Commander set himself in a cross-legged position next to where she was sitting alone by the fire. "I didn't sneak, you were just completely immersed in your writing. You really should be careful not to lose track of your surroundings out on the road. It's not safe."

Wynne found herself scoffing. "Well, pardon me for actually finding some use in recording my thoughts and opinions."

"Hey, I'm just saying you shouldn't lose track of what's happening around you. I never said having a journal is bad. I mean, I used to have one too, until about a couple of years ago."

"Oh?" Wynne was beginning to think maybe he wasn't so hopeless after all. "Why did you stop?"

The dwarf noble contemplated his apple (he seemed to be eating those a lot lately) as he gave his answer. "It became... dangerous."

One of the woman's eyebrows rose immediately. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Orzammar isn't exactly a place where you can easily keep your thoughts hidden, especially if you write them down, what with all the spies and assassins and whatnot."

There was a pause, during which Wynne was wondering how on Thedas he could speak so casually about such a serious subject. "Oh my, is life there truly so complicated?"

He gave a deep sigh. "You have no idea. Assassination, blackmail, they happen constantly there. Basically, everything goes as long as it's not out in the open... Even fratricide, among other things."

Now Wynne was really horrified and was starting to wonder just how this young man with hair even whiter than hers had fit in that society. "That description is... very unsettling."

"I know." The other said. He also gave her some time to rub her forehead, as she seemed to be coming down with a headache.

"I mean," she went on, "I did get a feeling of that sort, but not very strong. I once went to Orzammar and it seemed like a very grand place, if a bit isolated from the rest of the world. I did not actually see any obvious evidence of people seeking each other's deaths. I was far younger then, however so I suppose I may have been somewhat more preoccupied with the magnificence of the city and my appointed task than with what went on beneath the appearances."

The commander turned his heads and gazed at her shrewdly, though she did not understand that look. "When was this?"

"Ah, it was long ago, when King Maric was still alive, though I might say I was already past my youth even then. I was sent there as part of a group of healers, the head in fact."

"Healers went to help the dwarves? The Circle of Magi hardly does anything without the Chantry's specific say so if I remember right, and it deals with Orzammar even less, since we are, as your revered mothers are so fond of saying, godless heathens."

Wynne decided to ignore that last jab. "We were given special dispensation by King Maric to answer the call of the Dwarven King Endrin. His firstborn son had suffered a serious accident and he requested the aid of the best healers available on such short notice."

"I see..." Raonar bit on his apple again, his expression carefully blank, except for a small twitch on the corner of his mouth. "So it was serious, eh?"

"Yes. There was little doubt his life could be saved, but it was not a given that he would make a full recovery. The accident had left him with a broken arm and rib, and his spine had been damaged quite severely. We never were given the specifics of the accident itself, and got no explanation as to why. Still, it was a miracle his spine hadn't actually broken outright. He was remarkably sturdy for a ten year-old."

"Was he now? So, in your mind, that visit to Orzammar remained a sort of test for your healing abilities?"

"Oh no," Wynne shook her head and smiled, something akin to amusement finally showing. "While I and my colleagues did have to put our best into the healing act itself, the bigger headache, for me personally, came when I was supposed to make the actual diagnostic."

"How so?" The dwarf's expression showed only casual curiosity.

"The prince's little brother was a real devil. The palace guard walked with me up until the final corridor that led to the room in question. After that, I went there alone. That was when he struck."

"Struck?"

"Well, by the time I had reached the other end of the hall, I had fallen prey to two tripwires, one falling bucket of water and one of my own spells that was supposed to have temporarily dazed the child but ended up reflecting off a polished ornamental suit of armor straight into my eyes."

There was a pause.

"You're telling me that you got your ass handed over to you by a seven year-old?"

"I did not!" the woman protested with a frown. "I admit I may have been unprepared for his tricks but I could not just very well start casting every spell I knew on the son of the dwarven king in the heart of his own palace."

"That sounds like such an excuse," the commander observed neutrally, much to the woman's annoyance. "And you actually fell to TWO tripwires? Anyway, how did it turn out in the end? Was he just your average evil, screwed up brat?"

The woman gave a sigh. "No. Actually, after that whole mess, he tripped on some stairs and hurt his arm. And when I healed it, he brightened up and explained why he had pranked me... and I dare say I have never heard anything more unusual since."

"Oh?"

"Apparently, it was all a test. He said that he could be sure now that I wasn't a threat to his big brother because I was a 'nice witch lady', as he put it, if I still decided to heal his arm after he put me through all that hell."

"... riiiight. And what, you believed him?"

"Well, I wasn't sure at first, but the way he behaved around his elder brother after that, and the scene that happened later that evening, left me with the certainty that he did actually mean well, in his own, twisted way."

The commander stopped chewing for some reason and looked a bit worried. Then, he looked at her with narrowed eyes. "What scene?"

"I was going to check up on the firstborn prince a second time but that prankster was in his room, so I waited by the door for a while."

Wynne missed how the corner of the other one's mouth twitched. "You mean you spied on them?"

"Hardly..." The raised eyebrow on the man's face made it clear she was not convincing at all. "Alright, perhaps I did, but I suppose I couldn't help myself because it was all very touching, seeing that lad crying on the side of the bed and his older brother trying to comfort him, even though he was the one in more pain."

Wynne really was asking herself why the dwarf was now glaring at her.

Fortunately, after a while, the stout warrior resumed his chewing and stopped staring at her, though his frown did not abate. "That still doesn't explain why you find it so unbelievable that Orzammar is such a backstabber's nest."

"Hmm, I suppose it doesn't," the mage admitted. "I do wonder what became of those children, however. It would be a shame if their lives were destroyed by what you say is common there."

The other one threw what was left of his apple away and poked at the fire with a stick, to stir the embers. "They grew up, like everyone else. The second eldest eventually became more loved and respected by the people. This, among other things, led to a sort of rivalry with Trian that eventually degenerated into hostility soon after the poisoning of their mother, the queen."

Wynne was gaping already. The queen had been poisoned?

"The second son kept gaining popularity until rumors arose that he would be elected king instead of Trian. Then, on the day when he took charge of his first military command, he was found standing over what was established as his brother's corpse. I said established because it was burned beyond the point where it could be recognizable. The prince was later pronounced guilty of having murdered him."

"Slow down!" the mage pleaded in astonishment. "This all is unbelievable! How could those two have gotten to the point where they would kill each other?"

"Well, people change," the dwarf said with a casual wave of his hand. "And the supposedly guilty one apparently didn't even try to persuade the deshyrs of his innocence when called to stand trial."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I... this is all so..."

"His punishment was being forced to walk the Deep Roads, fighting darkspawn until killed, only that's not exactly what happened to the guy."

That definitely got the old woman's attention. "No? Well, what did he do?"

"He was found by the Grey Wardens and recruited into their order."

There was an uneasy silence.

Then, the short individual turned his piercing gaze towards her and she knew she was probably looking both stupefied and a little horrified. Her stuttering definitely confirmed her unease. "You... you're..."

"I suppose you not remembering my name and the fact that my hair and eyes are different can be seen as an excuse for not putting the pieces together before now."

"Incredible... You mean you just played dumb through my entire 'tale' just now?"

"Not really. After all, how else could I have known for sure that the one that handed your ass to you was seven years-old? You're the one that wasn't perceptive enough. What I am more interested in, however, is what you're going to do now that you know why I'm no longer in Orzammar."

Wynne decided to give him a piercing glare of her own. "You haven't really denied anything. Did you actually perform such a callous act?"

"Heh. Now that would be telling. Sorry, but very few people know the answer to that question. Make of that what you will. I think I'd much rather let you wonder about that as you stay up at night."

With that, the so-called Warden Commander got up and left, apparently in the direction of Sten, who seemed to be having some sort of 'discussion' with the black mabari war hound.

And all that Wynne could actually do after that was wonder if she actually really knew what she'd gotten herself into when she decided to help with Connor's exorcism.

"-. .-"

Faren was more than a little glad to be away from the Circle Tower. If he was ever going to see another demon or abomination it would be too soon. There was also the issue of what had happened to Kallian and how Raonar and Alim had seemed to take that whole matter very seriously. At least she had managed to go to sleep easily enough, though there was hardly any guarantee she wouldn't wake up screaming because of another nightmare. Still, the fact she could close her eyes at all was enough to give the castless rogue a little peace of mind while he sorted out what else he wanted to do.

Now where was that guy? Ah yes, talking to Sten and... the dog... This should be interesting. Strange things never end it seems.

Faren reached Raonar's side just as Sten and Rinne were finishing growling at each other. It looked like they were testing each other's valor, though less perceptive people would have found it all a bit silly. Oddly enough, Sten ended up praising the mabari's bravery and actually smiled, or was it just an impression?

"Good girl!" the dwarf noble earnestly praised his hound as he pat her on the head after Sten had left. "Now go and play with Theron's wolf a little. He seems a bit reclusive so try to make him socialize a little, alright? We can't have our dear Dalish hunter passing on his apathy to his animal companion too."

"You know I'm right here," the elf in question complained from one of the branches of the grand oak he had decided to climb in. Since the convoy had made camp in a place with fairly many big trees, the elf had decided to enjoy himself as best he could, and what better way than being above everyone else, literally?

"Yes, and I stand by my words that you're a bit too apathetic, though I suspect it's just a cover for your whole disapproval of everything that's happened since you got near that mirror," the white-haired one hypothesized with a shrug of both shoulders.

"Yes yes, thank you kindly for reminding me of that particularly glorious day."

Since that had been a deadpan, Faren felt impressed with Theron's skill at covering up for grief with dry wit. It also managed to lift his spirits a notch, enough to finally gather enough courage to say what he wanted.

"Hey man, I uh... want to talk to you."

Raonar glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and clapped his hands together several times, as if dusting them off. "Hmm? Oh, it's you. Sure."

"In private..."

"As I said, sure," he repeated, squinting both eyes as he led the duster away from camp. "How long will it take?"

"..."

"Don't look at me like that, I just want to know what kind of spot I should look for, that's all," the noble explained, somewhat put out.

"Spot?"

"Well if you had a tale that took hours to tell, you wouldn't want to stand on your feet the whole time, right?"

Faren supposed that made sense. "Oh, so that's what it was. I'm not sure how long it'll take really."

The other one said nothing more but didn't stop either while he actually led the redhead through a thicket, until they reached what looked like a pond. There, he sat down and leaned against a stump, gesturing for the brand to do the same. "I asked Theron to look for a nice, private spot for me earlier, just in case."

"You said it again," Faren cautioned as he sat down next to him. "Just in case."

The commander went through a whole set of different facial expressions before settling on a perfectly blank look. "Alim also said he didn't like it when I say that."

"Probably because you usually say it when you think something bad might happen... and then it does end up happening."

"It didn't always happen... not really."

"Well, let's have a recap then, about when you said just in case." The rogue began to use the fingers on his hand to count the occasions he was about to enumerate. "When you gave me that potion after you bailed me out of the dungeon. I get that you also said it when you prepared that fire bomb that helped the whole framing fiasco. Then you divided the treaties in Ostagar, 'just in case' Loghain happened to abandon us. Oh, and let's not forget how you wished me a happy birthday, just in case you didn't catch up to us by 'next month.'"

"You see! It didn't always come to pass after all!" the exile said enthusiastically.

The pause that followed was remarkably weird, until Faren just blurted out something by reflex. "Are you deaf or something?"

"That last bit, maybe you forgot but I actually did catch up to you by 'next month.' Just not before your birthday."

There was another pause.

"Damn! Why do you always get to be the one who has a point?"

"Funny, Alim asked me that very same thing too. Well, I suppose I could act stupid if you guys really wanted. Trian used to say I had a real talent at playing stupid, when we were kids that is."

Faren noticed that the one beside him was looking particularly wistful just now. "Well, I'm not sure about acting stupid, but I can honestly say that you're at least an expert at acting crazy. You can take the Uldred head monologue as exhibit A."

The other dwarf shot him a betrayed look. "Cute. Brutal honesty is it? And your vocabulary seems to be gaining big words now too. I take it you spent some time looking through those books in the Circle's many libraries? You must have really been bored. Ah well, if it's going to be like that, I suppose I should steel myself for what you want to speak to me about. So, what is it?"

Again the duster was amazed at how instantly he could cut shift from rambling to the main point. "Right... It's about that... dream of mine that you... broke. About what I wanted to tell you before you told me to think about it first... in that Fade thing."

"I thought as much." The exiled prince turned somewhat somber. "Are you sure you want to tell me?"

Faren didn't quite understand why he had stressed that last word. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Look, I know we've been watching each other's backs for a while now, and I appreciate that you feel like you can trust me but... I just don't want you to rush into things. I wouldn't want you to regret telling me this later."

"Hmm, that sounds a lot like your usual routine when you prepare for all sort of crazy shit," the castless aid with a nod. "Except for one thing."

"And that thing is..."

"You didn't say 'just in case'."

There was an odd silence, pierced only by the sound of a cricket.

"Drat. I was caught," the noble deadpanned.

"Is there any... particular reason I wouldn't want to trust you with this?" Faren knew he sounded skeptical, but he supposed he should be, given the circumstances and that guy's tendency to see things as more serious than they were... usually.

"Well, actually, there is," he admitted, faster than the red-haired bruiser expected... which was worrisome "But before you ask, I'm not going to tell you what it is. Someday, I probably will, but when I do... you might end up hating me. So you'll understand if I want to delay this as much as possible."

The redhead's eyebrow threatened to go up to the top of his skull. "That sounds a bit far-fetched. What could you have done that would make me of all people hate you, after everything that's happened?"

"You do realize I just said I wouldn't tell you, right?"

Faren groaned. "You're so difficult sometimes."

"Just sometimes? That's got to be the best compliment I've gotten all day," the prince said merrily, as though the prospect of Faren eventually hating him did not weigh on him in the slightest. Of course it was an act, but it was still odd.

So the rogue gave out a shriek of exasperation before silence fell between them again. And they just sat there for a time, throwing pebbles into the pond and disturbing some of the small evening insects that flew near the water's surface (Faren had still not managed to go past the point where every new thing caused excitement to well up inside him). Then, when the moon had gone high up into the sky, the duster figured he may as well just take a chance and see how things would end up. He supposed he never expected this to be simple anyway. In the end, if what that guy just said was true and he did have some secret that may offend him that badly, then at least he had been upfront about it, which meant that he had no intention of abusing his trust.

But it was the former noble that spoke. "It's getting late. Maybe we should go back."

"No... I've decided. I still want to talk to you about it."

And that was the first time ever that the duster had actually seen pure wonder in that so-called noble's eyes. And there was enough of it that he almost forgot the weird color that those irises had.

"But what if you end up regretting it?" Raonar finally asked, staring at the small stone that he was still fiddling with.

"Honestly... I think that if what you're not telling me is really so bad, then there's more than just selfish convenience that's keeping you from talking to me about it."

"What if you're wrong and I am just being selfish?"

"Honestly man, after everything I've seen you do, I'm pretty sure your definition of 'selfish' is one I haven't heard yet because nothing you did so far fits mine. And besides, what about what I have to say? You think it's something I'm especially proud of?"

"I doubt you have any foolish pride to speak of, really," the exile almost whispered, causing the other dwarf to actually stare ahead blankly. "Fine, if this is what you really want, then I'm more than willing to listen."

"Ye ancestors! Finally he stops rambling!" uttered the duster, imitating the overly theatrical moaning that Raonar himself displayed upon Uldred's swift defeat.

"-. .-"

Alistair was sure of one thing, and that was more or less directly related to the way he was fidgeting now.

It was past noon. They had arrived back at Redcliffe Castle several hours earlier, at which point the mages were quick to begin preparations for the ritual of exorcism. The ones that came were First Enchanter Irving, High Enchanter Wynne, Petra, Kinnon and one Daria Amell, whom Alim appeared to have known prior to his leaving the tower. At least that's what was suggested by how they spent practically the entire journey talking to each-other. Well, when Alim wasn't having whispered conversations with that white-haired dwarf that is, or when he disappeared with Morrigan to who know where during the evenings.

Anyway, Teagan and Isolde were obviously overjoyed to see them return, and glad that it had all only taken several days. They were, of course, quite distressed when told of what had transpired, and Isolde obviously felt that the ordeal could be seen as more proof that she had cause to not want Connor going to Kinloch Hold. Alistair was again reminded of why he did not like the woman.

At all.

Fortunately, the so-called warden commander promptly cut them all off and practically ordered everyone to shut up and let the mages prepare their components and spells. Then, when the decision came to decide who was going into the Fade, Teagan and Irving were surprisingly eager to have Raonar make the choice. Needless to say, Alim was the one that was singled out, and the elf was quite quick in complying.

And while Alistair did not really know how long the whole thing was supposed to take, he was definitely feeling as though it was taking too long.

Of course, there was another reason. With all the trouble in the Circle Tower, the mages were only able to scrounge up enough lyrium for a single ritual. Alim had seemed quite confident in his abilities, but if he were to fail, things would go bad fast. Jowan's blood magic ritual could supposedly be used if the first way should fail, but the demon would likely not give them that chance and, instead, possess Connor immediately and attack them all.

So the senior Grey Warden was now sitting in a chair that he had brought and placed in the hallway right ahead of the entrance to the room where Connor was, while Gwen was sitting in her own chair not too far from him. They had been prohibited from entering by the dwarf noble, who had only let Isolde go in, so as to give the boy a mother's embrace while that entire process lasted. As for he himself, the commander had actually sat down in a meditative posture and entered a sort of trance that, as he said it, would let him 'know if the Demon tried to cross the veil over to this side, just in case Alim ran into any trouble.'

Said trance came accompanied by the appropriate magical manifestations, in this case subtle rays of light practically coming out through his skin, at least as far as most people could tell. Alistair's sixth sense as a Templar let him detect the pulse of magical energy that periodically came out of that guy as he sat there motionless. He suspected it was more or less similar to his usual bad effect on spellcasting, only stronger and better directed.

Faren and Theron had stayed behind in the village, along with Sten and Shale. The dwarf rogue had gone to Owen's blacksmith shop to get his wrist blades adjusted better, while Theron was looking to restock his supply of arrows and spare arrowheads. Sten was also going to have to be present for the maintenance of his own armor, since whatever changes had to be sure not to make the armor unwearable by him. Considering that the blacksmith daughter, Valena, had been rescued in one piece, the man was quite eager to assist in any way he could. And this all came in addition to how he had agreed to just repair all of their equipment almost free of charge.

Morrigan had gone off somewhere by herself again, while Leliana had gone to the treasury, to get whatever gold was available, with Teagan's permission. It was, after all, going to aid the cause of the Grey Wardens.

As for Kallian, she had only said that she was a bit tired, and wasn't feeling particularly well either, something about a headache. So she had gone off to a dormitory to sleep it off.

And still, Alistair was fidgeting, though he was doing his best not to be overly obvious about it. He really hoped this would work. He didn't want Arl Eamon to end up losing his son over all this, and even though he had little love for Isolde, he didn't want Eamon to lose his wife either. And he had to admit that a small part of him wanted to know just what was going on in the Fade.

He didn't know that that last wish of his was actually going to be fulfilled, but his attention was suddenly drawn by what felt like a sudden spike in the magical charge of the chamber ahead.

He jumped to his feet, which was far easier now that he was wearing regular clothes instead of armor (they had acquired a set of Templar armor, but it was at Owen's for maintenance), and practically barged into the room, only for his eyes to see a most unusual magical spectacle.

The white-haired dwarf was on his feet now, though his eyes were closed and his head was bowed, while his palms clasped to each other in front of him, high enough that they were just below his face. The magical aura around him was brighter than what he had so far displayed and the air seemed unusually thick. Alistair could only stare in confusion and awe as Gwen also burst in and stopped just beside the other human.

"Mother, what's happening?" Connor asked in fear, though his eyes were shut, meaning that whatever was troubling him was not what seemed to be occurring visually. He and Isolde, who had knelt beside him and was holding him in her arms, were now at the edge of the room, near the door to where Jowan's old books were kept.

It was the commander that answered. "The Veil is growing thinner. The demon is getting desperate."

No sooner had he finished that utterance that a strange light filled the whole chamber for a brief instant, before it only partially died down, the rest causing everything in sight to become blurred and twisted as visions and images from another place became superimposed on reality. Colors became shapes with shimmering contours and the illusion stabilized with an audible humming, until the sounds and sight of a fierce battle became more than obvious.

The first thing everyone saw was an explosion of white and gold. The blast left behind a white mist that dispersed quite quickly, revealing an apparently irate desire demon, complete with her horns and whip-like tail. She was floating in the air and gathering magic with both of her hands. Her act was interrupted when a stone missile slammed straight into her forehead and shattered into pieces, though not before knocking her to the ground.

She recovered quickly enough, but one of her horns had been broken at the very base and was now on the ground. Her only reaction was a sneer, but her attacker, clad in partially shredded robes of perfect black, gave himself no such reprieve and made a point of lunging the tip of his twin-headed dragon staff straight in her direction.

The bolt of lightning struck her head-on, but she managed to cross her arms in front of her face and conjure up a shimmering shield that absorbed most of the damage. Then, she countered with a ball lightning of her own that was barely dodged by the elf, though it still discharged randomly and affected him somewhat as he rolled to the side and came up on one knee.

The next exchange was more direct. She practically charged him and morphed her right hand into a twisted, oversized limb with long, sharp claws. The other one brought his staff up to guard, stopping her thrust, after which his eyes started to shine outright, a shade of bright blue, as he pushed his magic into the weapon, changing it into electricity that went directly into the Fade spirit.

She drew back with a scream, lightning visibly crackling through and around her, but Alim was more or less out of breath so he failed to make the best of that moment of vulnerability. So he drew on the power from a nearby lyrium vein while the demoness summoned two rage demon thralls to aid her in her struggle.

They lasted a mere instant, however, for the mage lift his staff high, and a wave of frost left his body in all directions, freezing them, even though they were technically made of fire. And when they had been dispatched, he glared at that female-looking thing one last time before he discarded his staff altogether and struck his fist against the 'ground' with all his might, causing it to split open and have veritable rocks and spikes jump out of it from directly beneath his enemy.

Her body was almost mangled, but she invoked her last reserves and destroyed the stones. But all that which she had left to try was concentrate the entirety of all her remaining strength into one final spell, a maneuver which her foe was more than willing to mirror.

There was a sudden flash of light, bright enough to almost seem blinding, and whatever screams may or may not have been uttered were completely covered up by the raw barrage of noise that the violent collision produced. And at the end of it, after the dust settled and the smoke cleared. what was left was an apparent crater, in the middle of which were to figures.

One was a battered desire demon, kneeling and with her upper body leaning slightly backwards, on the verge of collapsing outright. But shimmering chains suddenly burst out of the ground and gathered around her arms and legs, as well as her neck, so as to hold her in place and to force her to face the one she had been defeated by.

As for what the other figure was it would have been hard to tell for sure if those looking upon that unnatural vision had not already known who it was. His face was invisible, shrouded in a deep shadow cast by his black cowl, and his robes had become a mass of rags that flapped eerily in an unfelt breeze. His arms could not be seen as they hung to his sides, as the long sleeves, now torn and ripped into messy strands, reached far lower than the tips of his fingers.

He was like a dark specter, a black shadow that was staring down at that demon that had possessed that boy. That demon which was now immobile and outright horrified at how helpless she had come to be in the core of her own realm. And her eyes only widened as the one who had invaded her realm finally moved again.

His right arm rose to the side, until it took a position that seemed to suggest it was holding and leaning to something at the same time. Then, lightning sprung from the ground beside him, and came up, concentrating in the shape of what looked like a staff, except for the odd, horizontal, bent handle at the middle. And the answer as to what that thing actually was came when the long and ominous blade of the scythe formed right above of the executioner's head.

Then, the dark specter slowly titled his head to the side, eyes like green flames finally piercing from beyond the darkness, and his other arm came and grabbed the handle of what he had just created. It was no weapon. It was an executioner's tool, made of energy pure and focused enough that there was little doubt it would be able to permanently rend the being of that demon asunder.

The cold, dark man's scythe followed its natural purpose and came forward in a horizontal swipe that cut so deep and quickly that the halves of the demon's body were severed instantly, only for the electricity to disintegrate whatever remained. And all that was left after that was a black, ragged-looking thing, holding a scythe in the middle of a crater that had also been practically cut in half by the strength behind that cut.

The vision ended along with the remains of that place, for nothing in the Fade can outlive its maker.

And when it was over, the room was normal again, populated by a scared mother that was covering her child's eyes and ears as best she could, as well as a dwarf and two humans, one of which, the woman, was still staring blankly, awed by what she had just seen. As for Alistair, he found that he would soon find out if there are any nightmares that can be worse that those given by the Archdemon.

Because he had just seen a demon powerful enough to raise an undead army being coldly executed by the Grim Reaper.

But the stunned silence was finally broken by the noticeably strong voice of a very angry exiled prince of the dwarves.

"That does it! Wait till I get my hands on him!"

Alistair, Gwenith and Isolde, who was still covering Connor's eyes and ears with her hands, could only look on in confusion as the stout warrior made his way out of that room and towards the castle's main floor with very hurried steps.

"-. .-"

This was not what Alim had expected to be greeted by once he successfully dispatched that demon. He would have thought he would be met by cheers, or at least some praise for a job well done. Instead, right after his soul returned to his body, the Warden Commander practically barged into that meeting chamber, grabbed him by the wrist somewhat painfully and more or less dragged him away, even as all the mages, plus Bann Teagan and the knights, stared at them.

And he kept walking and pulling him along until they reached a sort of bedroom, at which point the dwarf shoved him over to one chair.

Presently, the white-haired one was glaring at him quite intensely. "What the hell was that?"

Alim was pretty sure he had no idea what that was supposed to mean but he wasn't particularly distressed either. He was just really confused.. "I am... not following."

The dwarf pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, as though he was trying to stay civil. This was especially unusual, since Alim couldn't really remember any time he lost his temper for real...

... except against Isolde about a week before.

"Alim, you were just in the Fade right?"

"Yes," the elf answered coolly.

"And, that means that you practically entered Connor's dream, yes? Since that's where that demon was."

"Yes." Where is he going with this?

"So tell me then," the exile demanded as he met the other pair of eyes directly. "Since when is it a good idea to impersonate death incarnate when inside a child's dream?"

There was a pause, and an elf that was blinking in something akin to bewilderment.

But the other one started on him again, fuming as he said each word. "Look, I get that you hate demons, and that you make a point of destroying them in the most gruesome of ways, but do you realize just how emotionally scarring something like this can be to a kid like him? That boy was practically witnessing every sodding moment of that fight you and that demon bitch had! Did you have to go all "I am become Death, destroyer of worlds" at the end? I'll be surprised if he doesn't end up psychologically marred for life! Some rescue, having your savior be scarier than the demon that possessed you to murder a castle's worth of people and turn them into mad zombies! At least if you had managed to come up with a memory wipe spell, this could have been more easily 'fixed' but you didn't."

Alim would have realized that this was probably the most brutal tongue lashing he had ever experienced. He didn't immediately see that, however, because he was too busy being taken aback at what his 'playing around' had led to. That playing the Grim Reaper thing at the end had been just a whim, since he really wanted to see that thing experiencing what 'turning the tables' meant. That and he couldn't have really helped the ragged look of his robes, not really.

But suddenly, something struck him. "Wait... how do you even know what happened there?"

"Hmpf! The Veil weakened enough that everyone in that room, me, Alistair, Gwen, Isolde, all of us could damned well see you two and that place you were fighting in! Sure, Isolde did her best to cover Connor's eyes and ears, but we both know that was useless, since he was practically seeing and feeling it all because it was his own bloody dream that it was all happening in!"

The mage was startled and he instinctively had his hand cover his mouth. But his concerns were not the same as those of the exile. His mind was now thinking of something different. The Veil had been weakened that much? If it had been thin enough that the Fade actually became temporarily visible, then it was clear that what he had done was actually more than justified.

So before the dwarf could turn the doorknob, the elf was on his feet and had cast a spell on the door, to keep it shut.

Raonar turned around. Very slowly.

But it was Alim that spoke, though his eyes were narrowed and his voice calculated. "I will concede to your point that I may have gone too far in how I went all Grim Reaper at the end. However, I am afraid most of your anger, which is quite uncharacteristic and I actually have a theory as to why it exists, is misdirected."

There was a raised eyebrow. And a lot of skepticism. "Is it really..."

"Yes. You see, it was actually quite necessary that I obliterated that demon that way, through energetic disintegration, because in her desperation, she had tried to forcefully possess Connor right when it became clear that I was more powerful than she... or rather IT was. So yes, if you saw that, and the Veil was weak enough, it was only because I barely managed to prevent that from happening."

"..."

"And yes, I went all out, hence the explosions and craters, because if I hadn't, that demon would have been able to put enough attention into the possession and, even though she would have lost anyway, she would have at least destroyed the boy's soul just to spite us."

"... Well, you still could have managed to not come across as more frightening than her."

There was an uneasy silence, by the end of which Alim had slowly sat back down on his chair and his arms were now resting on his knees. "Do I really come across as worse than demons?"

The bearded one's head bent to the right. "I'm not sure I'd go as far as to say that. But scarier... oh yeah, definitely. Much scarier. Actually, your way of torturing them to death would make me shudder sometimes if I hadn't grown up in Orzammar."

"I see..."

The prince of the dwarves then assumed a look that Alim associated with when he entered his soul-penetration mode, when it felt like he could see or deduce a person's most hidden secrets. "This hatred you have for demons, and which makes you choose very... appropriately torturous ways of ending their existence... It seems awfully... personal."

The blood mage tensed before he could stop himself.

"And it also seems to occasionally overpower your reason, to some extent."

The mage knew he was setting the stage for a question, but he already knew what it was, so he decided to speed things along. "Let's just say that... my Harrowing wasn't the first time I had to face demons directly."

Silence fell between them again, and the warrior was now leaning against the door and had both arms crossed in front of him. And the mage slowly rubbed his palms against each other for a short while, but he regained his composure quickly and began an analysis of his own.

"The way you get angry about everything that's happened to this Connor kid, it also seems awfully personal."

"I suppose it does," Raonar conceded immediately, though he kept his face blank.

"You actually seem to like kids a lot. I remember how you actually went and spoke a bit with those ones in the Circle Tower, the apprentices that Wynne had safeguarded."

"You seem to be paying a lot of attention to what I do..."

Alim continued as though the other one hadn't even spoken, though he met his gaze quite neutrally. "You seem to care about everyone around you, but you usually keep up either a cool attitude, dry wit or just pure humor whenever you deal with other people. But you change when kids are involved. You get really pissed off when someone's stupidity or, worse yet, deliberate ignorance ends up causing them harm. You're also unusually careful and you actually seem to talk to them in a tone and manner that I only ever see you use when talking to Faren."

"..."

"I knew it. Why you were so hard on Isolde for her poor handling of this whole mess. Why you were so determined to get to the Tower as soon as possible, despite being exhausted. Why you made a point of reassuring those apprentice kids, and why you wanted to be near Connor while I went into the Fade, 'just in case.' They are all related."

"..."

"It bothers you doesn't it? That issue with Grey Wardens and how it's almost impossible for them to-"

"Stop."

It wasn't said in anger, or in any way that could suggest any sort of emotional load. It had been a simple whisper, from one whose eyes were closed and who was just standing with his back leaning against the door. He had said but one word, one that just suggested it was time for the other one to stop speaking.

Then, he straightened up, turned to the door and pushed some of his own magic into it, dispelling the sealing glyph that the elf had cast earlier, after which he slowly opened it, walked out, and closed it behind him with no sort of haste whatsoever.

The review space is, as always, ready and willing!