*Much love for Omnomanom and BuriedBeneath, the Betas that keep me on the straight and narrow. And much love for those of you who have stuck with this opus for as long as you have and have encouraged me in reviews, private messages and on twitter. I know I don't say that nearly enough. I do appriciate you all.


"So you're responsible for all those documents," Hawke stated flatly when she was finally introduced to Julyan, who was looking much better for having had a few hours of sleep. He had for the most part kept his peace the day before, only speaking up when Fantin requested that he clarify something. Julyan simply inclined his head politely.

"Julyan is one of my creatures, Hawke," Fantin supplied casually. "I told you I did a lot of business in Tevinter and it behooves me to have ears where they most count."

"Then he is a mage," Fenris supplied, his voice light. "Possibly even a magister. No one enters the orbit of the Archon who isn't, unless he was one of the slaves."

Both Julyan and Fantin regarded the elf behind Hawke a moment.

"I am a mage and I was apprenticed to a magister that worked for one of the Archon's advisors," Julyan finally supplied. "It was necessary to gain the kind of access Master Fantin required of me."

Hawke eyed the man a few moments before speaking. "Then you would do well to not flout that fact in the faces of the Templars inside their own house," she replied pointedly. "Cullen knows you are a fugitive from Tevinter and would think it his duty to keep you here."

"He can try," Fantin shrugged before nodding, allowing she was right. "Julyan is not the only mage in the employ of the Crows. We take children far younger than do the Templars and sometimes have years of training invested in an apprentice before they show signs of magic. Believe me the Crows do not waste their investments unless it is absolutely necessary."

Hawke sighed. Somehow it didn't surprise her that his organization would have mages in its midst even if the thought had never once crossed her mind in the past. And it did not escape her that Fantin had just told her that this Tevinter would not be here if he did not feel it was wise. He was after all, an 'investment,' and a long term one at that which Fantin had made long ago. Julyan regarded her flatly for a moment as she lost herself in thought, considered the tired expression as she stared off at something no one else would see. She was, he mused, older than he had expected.

"So you are the one that killed the famous Danarius? You had Minrathous in an uproar for a time. The Archon was publicly outraged and privately relieved." Julyan paused to smile tightly at her as her attention came back to him. "It would seem he kept a close eye on Danarius, fully expecting him to make a bid for his throne. Everyone in Minrathous is convinced that it was a 'fabled' Crow that did the deed and we have you to thank for a marked rise in our notoriety there."

Fantin grunted, not commenting. He well knew that wasn't necessarily a good thing at the present, though it could have some advantages in the long run. Hawke simply regarded the Tevinter Crow without much concern for what he had said, she could frankly care less. Julyan looked past her to where Fenris stood behind her chair, arms crossed and a dark look painted across his face.

"The military in Seheron is demoralized by his death, even now. He was to them a great hero and several have attempted to step into his shoes without much success. His heir, Magister Hadriana hasn't even attempted it. Wise woman, knows her limits. She does keep a finger in Seheron though, happily funneling as much as she can to those fighting the Qun. Her star may still rise there, one never knows."

"Yes," Fenris replied lightly, sensing somewhere this man was trying to bait him and refusing to rise to it. "One never knows."

Hawke sighed. There was a time and not one too distant that Julyan's observations would have made her happy. This was after all, exactly why she had gone to Minrathous to begin with, to try and gain advantage for the Fog Warriors in whatever way necessary. Now she wondered, in her darkest places if she had not inadvertently cut off access to what could have been a potent ally against the Qun. Taking a deep breath and shaking herself mentally, she thrust that thought away. Not only was it no use to cry over things already done, Fenris was right. Had Danarius not died then the elf would not be here and there was nothing to her mind to regret in either happenstance.

"Please," she turned her eye to Fantin, where he sat. "No more surprises."

Fantin shrugged indolently before responding.

"You had yourself shut up in here," he paused to wave a hand at the apartment she and Fenris had called home for over a month now. "Had I been able to work a way to tell you these things I would have. As it was I had to show my hand in order to get that decree of the Antivan queen to you and you will recall just what sort of a scene that caused. Imagine what would have happened had I asked Sir Cullen for a private meeting?"

Hawke's mouth snapped shut on the pointed rejoinder that immediately sprung to mind, knowing that he was right, much as it irritated her. When Fenris chuckled darkly from behind her, she glared over her shoulder at him but Fenris simply shrugged, completely unashamed. Quickly deciding that this was getting her nowhere, she looked back at Julyan.

"Tell me exactly what was in those documents. I don't think anyone will be very impressed if the person standing there demanding their help admitted to complete ignorance."

Julyan smiled thinly, allowing she was probably correct and proceeded to tell her all he knew. Fantin sat back and regarded Fenris who was in turn watching him through his bangs as he listened to Julyan, and wondered not for the first time just what was going on behind that annoyingly stoic expression.


"She is quite persuasive is she not?"

Sebastian paused, his belt half buckled and looked at Baldovin a moment.

"Yes," he sighed as he finished, "She is. And she has good instincts, most of the time."

Baldovin leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed as he regarded his friend.

"So you believe her?"

"That the Qunari are set to go mage hunting?" When Baldovin nodded, Sebastian sighed. "Oh most certainly. She knows more of them than we ever will, enough so that I would be willing to personally follow her without question. But war? She has not convinced me enough to petition Starkhaven for that. Not yet anyway."

"Yet? You think there might be more?" Baldovin blinked.

"No, I think she has laid her cards on the table," Sebastian replied lightly. "She knows she's asking us to risk innocent lives and would not play games longer than necessary because of it."

Baldovin fell silent, thoughtfully running a finger along his bearded chin.

"We have some lucrative trade agreements with Tevinter, ones that would pinch were we to lose them to a war of any sort," Baldovin pointed out.

"I know," Sebastian replied, sitting to pull on his boots. "But if it truly came down to it we would have no trouble finding new places to funnel our goods. No the question here will always come down to just what the Qunari intend. They have been at war with Tevinter for a long time over Seheron, why would they choose now to sidestep that status quo?"

"You think something is driving them?"

"I don't know," Sebastian sighed. "But I do think that if her Tal-Vashoth knew then we would as well. Maybe I will see if Maraas will consent to another conversation. Maybe she knows something that would help us glean a clue, something she doesn't realize has value here. Something even Hawke wouldn't think to ask."

"I'll see to it," Baldovin nodded, pushing away from the wall. Sebastian nodded distractedly, already lost in thought.


Fenris stood silent and watching as the second day showed all the signs of being a repeat of the first, the only difference now that there were more players and often things had to be explained a second time for them. Cullen had brought with him a Templar he introduced as Sir Erwin from Starkhaven and two mages, one he knew to be the First Enchanter of Kirkwall, the other introduced as the First Enchanter of Starkhaven. That the First Enchanters were being included without her having to ask pleased Hawke to no end, even though it meant she was now arguing with Vistana as well as Carver. Aveline seemed happy to simply observe, occasionally speaking up when she wished a point clarified or to make a sharp one of her own. Erwin too seemed happy to watch while Carver and Vistana insistently poked at any perceived hole in the story they were being told, but Fenris could see that though he was holding his tongue he was missing very little. Oddly enough it was falling to Cullen to referee the sometimes heated exchanges and quite often he would lay a hand on Carver's arm, usually completely cutting off whatever it was the Regent was saying when he did.

Strangely the Prince had not put in an appearance. Fenris wondered about that, especially when Maraas and Hassrath also failed to appear. When Fantin waved Vicenzo over and whispered something to him, something that sent him from the room, Fenris suspected that the absences had not passed his notice as well. Deciding that Hawke was fine where she was Fenris followed the Crow from the room, watching as he quietly asked sergeant-at-arms responsible for guarding the door where he might find Sebastian. When the sergeant-at-arms ordered one of his men to escort him to the prince, Fenris fell silently in beside Vicenzo and the Crow made no comment.


"Tell me Guard Captain," Erwin asked, leaning over so that Aveline could hear him over the pointed argument between Vistana and Isabela that had erupted when the First Enchanter had besmirched Isabela's honesty, "You are acquainted with at least some of these people, no?"

Aveline regarded the Templar a moment before nodding.

"Hawke, Carver and I fled Ferelden together. Varric and Isabela we met here but yes, I am acquainted with them."

"Do you believe them?" he asked mildly. "Knowing them as you do would you trust their word here?"

Aveline looked at Erwin a long moment, wondering just why Cullen had brought him and why he would ask this of her. Of all the people in this room, she had the least say in what was going to ultimately happen. Her job was the defense of the city itself and to her mind what Hawke was asking had little to do with that, yet anyway. She was only here she knew because Hawke had requested her presence. This man she did not know and could only guess at his reasons for asking. She considered her words carefully before replying.

"I have never known Hawke to overreact to anything, serah. Not when it involved someone else's life. Her own she sometimes played loose with, but not someone else's – ever."

Erwin studied the woman sat next to him a moment, knowing as all of Kirkwall did that she was a fast friend of the Viscountess and had followed her into more than one storm in her life. While most might think that made her opinion suspect, Erwin thought not. In all the time he'd spent in Kirkwall he had seen the marked improvement in the city guard that this woman had accomplished. By all accounts this Ferelden refugee had more honor in the clippings from her pinky nail than did most, and the look she had given him spoke of nothing but honesty. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Then you believe her?"

Aveline sighed.

"I believe she is right, the Qunari are up to something and I can follow her logic that Tevinter would necessarily be the logical target, yes. And my father was a Chevalier," she responded levelly. "One of the many things he made sure were part of my education was military history. That and a personal view of what exactly Qunari can and will do make me believe that she is most certainly correct about the consequences of the Qunari making a conquest of Tevinter."

Erwin nodded, he too had been present in Kirkwall when the Qunari had decided they had had enough of the constant provocation of extremists within the city. It still shamed him that a good portion of that provocation had come from the Chantry pulpit and had been supported by Templars. There were, he knew those that would take even a message of peace and make it a cause for war in any institution but that it was this time the Chantry herself…. He looked at Hawke where she stood trying to get Vistana and Isabela to both calm down and wondered. Erwin knew better than to believe everything that got told in the alehouses – not only did bards tend to glorify, their glorifications tended to be further exaggerated with retelling. But he had been witness to more than a few of the events in question and to this day still wondered at Cullen's decision to allow a known apostate the freedom he had suffered this woman to have. Even Knight-Commander Meredith had turned a blind eye to it. Looking back at Aveline whom he could see was considering joining the attempt to quiet the argument, he laid a light hand on her arm to draw her attention.

"Thank you," he told her honestly. "I appreciate your candor."

Aveline nodded distractedly as she finally stood and brought a steel gauntleted hand down on the table hard enough to scar it.

"Personal attacks get us nowhere so both of you sit down and shut up!" Pointing at Isabela as she gave every indications she was going to continue, Aveline ground out, "You will either stuff a sock in it, slut or I will have my guards search your ship and if they find so much as a sniff of contraband I will seize it and make you walk home."

Isabela's mouth snapped shut and crossing her arms she sat heavily, glaring at the guard captain viciously. Vistana simply grunted and gracefully retook her seat. Realizing she now had the attention of everyone in the room Aveline sighed and turned a pointed look at Cullen.

"Can I humbly suggest we take a break now?"


"You say there has been a general increase in the Qunari population on Seheron?" Sebastian looked thoughtfully at Maraas. "Since when?"

Maraas considered the question a moment. She had been born on Seheron and could remember smaller cities, fewer settlements and a countryside dominated by farms but to pinpoint exactly when the increase had started…

"Before my reeducation," she replied thoughtfully, "But not much more. Maybe a decade? Maybe a little more?"

"Reeducation?" Baldovin asked quietly from his place standing behind Sebastian's chair.

Maraas sighed sadly, only wishing this to be in her past but it was a ghost that haunted her.

"Whenever someone's actions or words defy the teachings of Koslun one of two things can happen depending on the severity. They can be censured, which generally means that their 'crimes' are made public and for a prescribed time they are shunned by everyone and are for effective purposes dead to all in the Qun. Or they can be reeducated. This means that they will be sent to camps, usually work camps and they will be shown the errors of their ways."

"And you were reeducated?" Sebastian asked, and when Maraas nodded slowly, an oddly shamed look to her eyes, he sighed. "Why? Or is that too personal."

"It is," Maraas replied promptly. "But I will tell you, so you will understand. I was called on by the Tamassran more than a few times…."

"Tamassran?" Sebastian cocked his head.

"The Tamassran are in charge of many things but their main responsibility is procreation of the Qunari. They decide who will breed with whom and if a pregnancy should result, they are responsible for those offspring. They take the babies to large nurseries and it is there that the children are raised, educated in the ways of the Qun and it is there that the Tamassran decide what their ultimate role will be inside the Qun."

Sebastian did little more than blink at Maraas but Baldovin was a little faster to get to the heart of what she had just said.

"So what you are saying is that Qunari are bred like pedigree dogs? And the resulting children are not raised by their own parents but by the same administrators that chose their pedigree?" He paused to meet the Prince's eye a moment, both men at a loss for words. "And there is no… well…"

"No," Hassrath growled. "There is no mating except for that which the Tamassran orders."

"Well that is not entirely true," Maraas cut in, "It does happen, but when it is discovered then the parties will be reeducated."

"And if the reeducation does not work?" Sebastian asked.

"There is no time limit on reeducation. But if it is determined that there is nothing in the individual to redeem through reeducation there are things that can be done." Hassrath growled, crossing his arms and regarding the stone-faced look on the larger man's face Sebastian decided not to pursue this line of questioning, for now anyway. As a former member of the Ben-Hassrath, those 'things' were probably more his purview than Maraas's anyway.

"You were called on by the Tamassran…" he prompted Maraas.

"Yes, several times. It was at best a duty I found distasteful but it was a duty nonetheless," Maraas continued after a short pause. "You have to understand that often the parties involved would be from different places and usually it was the male that was brought to the female. Very rarely would you ever see your partner again. But this time it was different. This time they wanted me to copulate with someone I knew, a man I had grown up with in the nurseries and had a great affection for. He was…" She paused to consider her words in the common tongue carefully, "He was, how you would say? Like a brother? To me? I refused him and it was he that told the Tamassran. It was determined that I was allowing my own feelings to usurp the will of the Qun…." Maraas trailed off, the slightly disgusted looks on both Sebastian and Baldovin's face did not surprise her and was not what caused her to stare at her hands. It was the hard stare she could feel from Hassrath behind her that was causing her discomfort. He had known that she had been reeducated, the Ben-Hassrath had made sure of that so that he would know that his charge had a storied history, but he had until now never known exactly why. Studying her fingers as they clenched and unclenched she wondered what he was thinking.

"That," Baldovin declared with his usual frankness, "Is state-sanctioned rape!"

"Baldovin," Sebastian sighed, holding up a hand to quiet his friend, "We may not approve but it is their way. I am sure there are things we do that appall them as well."

"A great many," Hassrath snorted haughtily, shooting a hard look at Baldovin. "Like allowing children to starve in the streets while your nobles dine finely and throw their scraps to their dogs. As if those children were worth less than a dog! You people put a price on everything, including sentient beings even if you do not openly buy and sell them as they do in Tevinter."

When Baldovin looked to argue Sebastian stood and laid a hand on his guard captain's shoulder, shaking his head to silence whatever he was about to shout back at the Tal-Vashoth's hard words but Hassrath was not done. "In the Qun no one wants, everyone has whatever is required. And no one is treated less than what they are – thinking, feeling beings!"

"Then why," Baldovin asked heatedly, "exactly is it that you are here?" Hassrath's mouth snapped shut, a stony look taking over his expression though his violet eyes still burned with outrage.

Silence reigned over the room until Maraas finally responded, "Hassrath is here because of me."

All eyes suddenly fell on her, watching in silence as she continued to contemplate her own hands.

"He is here," she replied in a small voice, "Because of his feelings for me. I was the one unhappy in the Qun, not he."

Hassrath grunted, sounding much like someone had hit him in the gut unawares. He stared down at her, sitting looking as small and guilty as anyone possibly could. Sebastian couldn't be sure but he thought something gentle passed through his eyes as finally he spoke.

"That," he replied evenly, "Is not entirely false, but it is also not entirely true either. Do not take credit for things you have not done. It was my choice, either way."

Maraas didn't look up but after a moment she did nod. Hassrath regarded the back of her head a few moments longer before looking at Sebastian. "The ranks of the Ben Hassrath began swelling the same time I was sent from Par Vollen. That was fourteen years ago. I remember because…"

He was interrupted by a discreet knock. Sebastian sighed and called for whoever it was to enter as he again sat down. He was vaguely surprised when one of the Crows and Fenris were allowed in by his guards. Fenris simply inclined his head and looking oddly at the less than happy look on Hassrath's face, decided to take up stance next to him. Vicenzo bowed and introduced himself as Master Fantin's messenger and asking when the prince would be joining the discussion. Sebastian sighed again, musing to himself that he had been asking questions of the Tal-Vashoth for several hours now and though he had learned a lot about the Qunari, he was no closer to the answer he sought. Perhaps there was nothing there. Looking at Hassrath a moment, he decided he wanted at least an answer to the question that had last been put to them.

"You remember because?" he prompted the warrior.

"I remember because it was shortly before the death of the Arishok, here."

Sebastian nodded, about to throw in the towel when Fenris shot a look at his kossith friend.

"The Arishok? With a capital 'a,' Arishok?"

Hassrath nodded.

"You mean to tell me that Hawke dueled and defeated the Arishok? Not a garden variety general? She killed one of the three pillars of the Qun?"

Hassrath nodded again, starting to look at Fenris just a little warily.

Fenris looked at the floor between his feet a few moments, trying to absorb that.

"What exactly," Baldovin asked, not liking the look on the elf's face. "Are the three pillars of the Qun?"

"They are what you would call our leaders," Maraas supplied, "Though that is a simplification at best. The three of them together are responsible for the whole of the Qun."

"The Arishok is the general in charge of all things martial," Fenris responded before cursing colorfully in Arcanum. "It makes sense that they would send him to recover the book, I don't know why but it just never dawned on me that Hawke was talking about the leader of the Qunari armies."

"That he died at the hands of kabethari was something that caused a stir, even in the Qun," Hassrath nodded. "But the Tome of Koslun was returned either way and it was to his honor that it was."

Sebastian said nothing, eyes ticking back and forth as he considered what was being said.

"The Tome," he finally said, "The Qunari sat here for years looking for it. And ultimately it was returned to them but at the price of one of their leaders. Shortly before, there is a buildup on Seheron, they begin to send not troupes but people, everyday people to set the stage. Once there are enough…."

"They begin to push harder on Tevinter," Baldovin finished for him. "They start picking harder and harder at the edges, keeping Tevinter over there where they can't see what they are doing."

"And what they were doing was a military buildup, now that the infrastructure had been created to support it," Fenris agreed. "It makes sense. The Arishok was not just here to recover a book. He was sent here to observe and when Isabela stole the book he was given a golden opportunity to sit and observe for a great while. No matter his ultimate goal he could not return to Par Vollen without that book. And who knows exactly what information was sent back to Par Vollen."

"Oh, I can imagine," Sebastian observed dryly, looking at Hassrath who simply returned his gaze with a stoic one of his own.

"By the Maker can they be that patient? To plot and plan out a military campaign so far in advance? Because if what we are surmising is truth," Baldovin shook his head, "Then this has been twenty years in the making."

"Oh, the Qun is patient. It knows that some things cannot be rushed," Maraas replied lightly. "You cannot make the sun rise any faster than it does on its own."

"There is no way to prove this." Fenris regarded Sebastian thoughtfully. "Those two escaped a reeducation camp, one on the very fringes of Qunari territory and wouldn't have seen anything. It is amazing she knew where the profits of the camp's labors were going at all."

"Oh well," Vicenzo chimed in for the first time, "I wouldn't go so far as that."

All eyes turned on him but he simply shrugged.

"The Crows have ways," was all he would say.


"Oh by Andraste's singed tits, not that damn book again!"

Everyone had been sitting politely listening to Sebastian, now they all sat staring at Isabela where she sat, arms crossed and a look that fluctuated between abject vexation and complete disbelief.

"I may just go back to Antiva and stab Castillon's family jewels for hanging that stone around my neck! It refuses to go away, just keeps coming back to haunt me!"

Vicenzo glanced at Master Fantin where he sat next to Hawke from his own vantage by the door and found his father staring back at him. Vicenzo shrugged almost imperceptively and suddenly Fantin threw back his head and laughed. Vicenzo knew it was not premeditated, not something planned and used to advantage, instead it was one of the few times that he had known this calculated man to express genuine mirth. The shame of it was that only the two of them understood its true roots. Stifling a smile of his own, he watched as everyone else sat trying to figure out just what in this situation the Crow Master found so very amusing.

"Master Fantin?" Vistana finally found her voice, looking down her nose at the Crow across the table, "I find nothing comical here."

"For once we agree, witch," Isabela remarked darkly, "Because there is nothing funny about this."

"Oh," Fantin wiped at tears that had escaped him, still chuckling as he tried to regain his control. "I wouldn't expect either of you to understand. And no," he held up a hand as Hawke opened her mouth to speak, "I am not explaining either. Just understand that this is most definitely unexpected." Ignoring the glare he was getting from Isabela, one that would probably wilt lesser men, he looked back at Sebastian. "So you are surmising that the real mission of this Arishok was to size up the competition as it were. That at every port he stopped at along the way he was casting a net, looking for opportunities. How very Crow of them!"

"The Qun is nothing like your Crows," Maraas protested.

"Oh you might be surprised," Vicenzo volunteered for his master. "There are those among us who admire your Ashkaari Koslun and think him a great philosopher."

Maraas fell silent and saw that Hassrath was regarding this Crow with an odd look.

"And," Master Fantin again took control of the room with that one pointed word, "Isabela there gave them the opportunity to spend a great deal of time watching Kirkwall. They will know from their different dockings that every kingdom, indeed every town is different but will also know that at the very heart of it, which is apparently where the Qunari like to look, very similar as well. Oh, the irony of it!" He paused to look at Isabela, where she sat looking very petulant. "Your actions may well have convinced the Arishok that we are ripe for their picking! And indeed they went home with victory here in Kirkwall not snatched from them but handed to them along with a simple book!" Tsking at her as he shook his head he finally fell silent.

"Oh, shut up!" Isabela snapped belatedly.

Cullen sat back in his chair, watching the exchange from the other end of the table and looked at Carver, who had his head hung so that he could study the grain of the wood between his hands. He was he knew thinking the same thing he was, it was written all over his face. Hawke was right. It fit too perfectly. Hawke had assumed the Qunari to be using the mage rebellion as an opportunity but that was not it at all. It was indeed an opportunity but one that had fallen into the Qun's lap unexpected. So very many of the Templar's charges had fled to Tevinter that should they crush them a great many would be lost, and those that remained were either hiding for their lives or openly fighting for what they felt were their rights. And the Chantry was divided, Templars divided. The only force they possessed that wasn't were the Seekers and they were distracted by shadows. Tevinter was also distracted, not truly seeing what was happening under their noses because of the power of history. Their fight with the Qun though often heated had for so long basically ended in a stalemate that they couldn't contemplate that anything would change that. It was that arrogance that had given the Qunari the opportunity to plot their ultimate victory over Thedas. And now it was going to have to fall not to the Chantry as it always had before to lead them into war, but the kingdoms of Thedas, acting alone and in concert.

"We are going to need more than what you have so far brought us to convince anyone else that we are not completely mad," he finally filled the hush that had fallen over the room.

Master Fantin nodded, agreeing completely and already plotting how to go about getting it.

"We are probably safe for the winter," the Crow observed. "The rainy season is upon Seheron and I doubt even the Qun has discovered a way to control that. Unless they are willing to lose a great many to the nightmare storms that haunt that part of the world then they will sit tight. We may only have until spring ladies and gentleman, so we best make use of it."

"So," Jaroslav asked lightly, in a voice that just barely carried even in the silence, "We are to war?"

Cullen looked at Erwin and was unsurprised when his Knight Captain simply regarded him a moment thoughtfully before nodding.

"Yes," Cullen replied with a sigh, "I do believe that the Templars of Kirkwall are."

"As are those of Starkhaven," Erwin added with a nod. "We follow Kirkwall."

"Not anymore," Cullen threw out, making Carver look at him sharply but he held his tongue. "I am promoting you to Knight-Commander Sir Erwin. The Circle of Magi of Starkhaven is now yours."

Erwin blinked, at first unable to comprehend what had just been thrust upon him so unceremoniously but finally nodding. He knew he could refuse and something in him wished it so but circumstances were now such that he could not.

"We still follow Kirkwall," he finally repeated, with more mettle than he actually felt.

Cullen nodded and looked at the others in the room. Carver simply nodded, not liking it but understanding now that this would be the defining moment of his rule.

"If it is within my power," Sebastian nodded, "I will have Starkhaven's armies ready. I will need to figure out a way to get a message to Goran, but I will find a way."

"I can help you with that," Fantin sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair to regard Hawke, who was silent as the Void and completely inscrutable, like she couldn't believe their success.

"We have a great deal to do and very little time to do it," Cullen finally remarked. "I think this meeting is over, for now."

Though the meeting was for all intents and purposes adjourned almost no one actually left the Gallows, all the different parties wishing to discuss and debate amongst themselves the finer points of what they now knew. Fantin sent Vicenzo off on some errand, taking Julyan with him and had followed behind Hawke and her brother as they retired to her apartments with Fenris. Cullen and Erwin disappeared in another direction with Aveline and her husband in tow, and so had the two First Enchanters, both a little stunned at the ultimate outcome and its implications for their charges. The only exceptions were Varric as he had trailed behind Isabela, who couldn't get off the island fast enough. He was trying to sooth her ruffled feathers and it was no surprise to Sebastian when Shrawn followed silently behind them, shaking her head. Suddenly the room was much larger and totally silent as he considered the two Tal-Vashoth, both completely lost and forgotten.

They had come to Thedas with nothing, he knew because if what they had told him was true, then in the Qun truly nothing in your possession actually belonged to you, including yourself. Their information had literally been their only coin to escape Seheron and now that they had they had nothing to call their own and were at the mercies of those around them for everything – from the food they ate to the clothes they wore to the places they rested their heads at night. Sebastian felt pity for them though he knew neither would thank him for it and mused that he would not trade places with them for anything. Sighing, he looked at Baldovin who still stood leaned against the wall watching.

"Maraas," he started gently, "I would like to know exactly what your role was in the Qun? Because at some point we are going to have to figure out exactly what we can do for the two of you."

"What," Hassrath snorted, looking down his nose at the prince, "makes you think we want anything from you?"

"Nothing," Sebastian responded lightly. "But the two of you have done us all a great service and I for one would like to see you thanked for it. That is the way things tend to be done here. You do something for me and I return the favor, even if that favor is nothing but coin and my thanks for your time and effort. You see, Hassrath, you were not far wrong when you said we put a price on everything – we do. One thing we value above most things though is skill, those things that other people can do that we ourselves cannot. I am at the heart of it, beyond all the fancy titles and pedigree bloodlines, an administrator. I deal with and concern myself for people, from the lowliest to the loftiest. Those are my skills though I admit my effectiveness will always depend on my experience and that sometimes limits me. I suspect Maraas understands that."

Maraas nodded slowly, wondering just where this conversation was going.

"If you were to hand me a hammer and ask me to build something I would be hard put to know what to do with the tool. That is why I keep people around me, people who have differing experiences so that I have a pool of knowledge to draw from, and I admit that is why I am so curious about the two of you. You most definitely have an experience that differs from mine." Looking at Hassrath thoughtfully a moment, he decided to inform him of something he would not know but had brushed against inadvertently. "Because we put such a store in skills, it is necessary to teach them. For every starving child out there, somewhere there is an adult who has to watch as their offspring go without because they lack skills and opportunity. If you show these people the way to better themselves and give them the tools to do it, then not only will their lot in life improve, so will that of their children. And that is something that the Mald family has devoted themselves to. To say that they are in service to the crown is a simplification; they are in fact in service to Starkhaven.

"Baldovin is in my service, captain of my guard technically because his greatest skills are martial and not as we have seen, diplomatic." Sebastian paused to throw a look at Baldovin who to his credit had the courtesy to look sheepish. "But his family is a large one, one with ties all through the city. His sister works at the palace, a Mother in the Chantry but working not only in service to the Chantry but also to Starkhaven to make sure that the poor do not go without those things they most need. And it is not charity that she hands out - she insists that they work for what is given them, even if it is to simply sweep the streets. She works hard to find permanent employment for some, apprenticeships for others. And she teaches them, something I insisted on because literacy is a gift that no one can ever take from anyone, one that empowers everyone it touches. All the Malds work to support her, giving not only their time but their coin as well and insist that others inside the noble classes do the same.

"Not everyplace in Thedas is the same and to tar us all with the same brush demeans you as much as it does us. Not all of us go home at night and count our sovereign. Some of us do concern ourselves with the plight of others. Carver has, with far less in his coffers done much to raise the Ferelden immigrants within Kirkwall and has supported every effort of the Chantry to help those in Darktown and the Alienage. Kirkwall has far less to draw on than does Starkhaven but he is working to change that every day. Whatever your Qun taught you, though by no means perfect, we are not evil, we are not without sympathy and we are not without a conscience. We would not have sat through two days deliberating whether or not we should go to the aid of a sovereign government that all of us find distasteful and ultimately decide that despite our differences of opinion we will indeed march at their side if we did not."

Hassrath regarded Sebastian in silence before turning an eye to Baldovin, his expression completely unreadable. Baldovin made no comment, indeed simply returned Hassrath's look with a flat one of his own as he wisely kept his counsel. Finally Hassrath inclined his head, allowing that Sebastian could have a point.

"The Qun teaches that all things have a place, have a purpose," he finally allowed. "And that is what I am used to. To see sentient beings treated as less, it offends the Qun in me and I have to sometimes remind myself I am no longer of the Qun. I apologize."

"No, don't apologize." Sebastian remarked quickly. "See this is the beauty of our system, Hassrath. When you see something that offends you, you have the freedom to do something about it. And though it tweaks at the Chantry brother in me even I have to admit that it also leaves us all the freedom to examine our beliefs, to question the things we are taught and those things we have come to expect and change – ourselves when needed and to openly share those changes. You do not necessarily have to completely abandon the Qun in order to live outside of it; you simply have to adapt it to where you are now."

"That is an invitation to chaos," Hassrath stated flatly.

"Indeed, sometimes it is," Sebastian agreed readily, "But have you not already embraced chaos by leaving the Qun? It is from chaos that all order is born is it not, even the order of your Qun? And our way may seem like chaos to you but it is in its own way very orderly, kept in line with complicated checks and balances. The two of you sit perched on the precipice you know, you have the opportunity here and now to do something. What? I have no idea and I suspect neither do you. But there is little in life as liberating as losing everything comfortable and finding your way in chaos. Of this I can speak from experience because it has happened to me, and if I can in some small way help you along that journey it would be my honor and my privilege to do so."

Hassrath fell silent, absorbing that as he stared thoughtfully at the floor behind Maraas's chair. Sebastian suspected he had scored a point though with this stone-faced man it was hard to say for sure. Looking back at Maraas, who also had a contemplative look, he smiled.

"So, exactly what is involved in administrating a Qunari work camp?"


Maraas watched Hassrath from under her lashes. Ultimately it had been Knight-Commander Cullen who had taken their charge, arguing that they could be much more humanely hidden behind the walls of the Gallows than they could be sitting on ships smack in one of the busiest ports on the Waking Sea and everyone had to agree with his assessment. Although it in many ways pleased Maraas to be here she could see that it made Hassrath uncomfortable; the Qun still inside him nervous of the mages that surrounded them. That he had eventually become comfortable with Hawke told her eventually he would become comfortable here. That Sebastian had also decided to remain in the Gallows also pleased her because despite his constant curiosity Maraas had decided she rather liked the man and his gently authoritarian ways. And Fenris was also here, someone she knew Hassrath had missed in his absence, the elf having become a familiar companion during their voyage from Seheron, one that Hassrath had come to respect even for his differences.

Back in the same room, Maraas had wondered absently what he would do but indeed what he had done was to stand silent, staring at the fire with his arms crossed and lost completely in his own thoughts. And she had left him to it because she well understood that the last few days had presented more than their fare share of challenges for them both. Hassrath was not a thinker, had rarely truly been encouraged to do it beyond duty until now, and she wondered what it was that had so engrossed him. Finally sleep pulled at her and without her being aware it was happening she fell to dreams.

Hassrath knew when she finally slept, he could hear her steady even breathing and took comfort that she had found a solace that wasn't to be his. How long he stood contemplating the flames he didn't know, their room was an interior one and had no window for him to gauge by, but in some ways it felt like moments and in some forever. And in that unfathomable time he had found no answers, no certainty beyond that this indeed was chaos and he was uncomfortable in it but knew he had chosen it for good reason and would choose it again. Turning a look at Maraas, he studied her as she slept for some time, and considered her roll in that choice. He had not lied to her, was proudly incapable of the deceit he saw everyday around him here – he had chosen to follow her for more reasons than his own feelings. That she felt a responsibility both pleased and appalled him until he weighed it against the fact that at least part of the reason he had chosen to follow her was a firm belief that she would be defenseless in these lands, her innate naiveté used against her and it was a terror he held in his heart that it would be further tarnished and lost.

And it was tarnished he knew because it had been that naiveté that had led her to believe she could secretly defy the will of the Tamassran and ultimately the Qun and that her friend would hold her secret safe. The Qun had no secrets, only certainty. The certainty that the sun would rise, as would the moon behind it, the certainty that all things had a place in the world and the world had a place for it to occupy, the certainty that every action, every decision would have consequences far beyond the here and the now. In the camp the Qun had taught her that and had taught her well though it had failed in making her understand the depth of that truth and it was that failure that had lead her to choose a life outside the dictates of the Qun.

But was it a failure he asked himself. It was not the same failure that accounted for his being here so was either really a failure at all? Could he find it within himself to put away the Ben-Hassrath in him and view what she had done without those prejudices? He found that yes, yes he could and very easily as well because it was the fault of that failure that he found her so endearing to begin with. Maraas without that wide-eyed look of wonder that she had carried ever since setting foot upon the privateer's ship would not be Maraas. Stripped of the nature that allowed her to see the mystery of the world in a single pleasantly spoken word she would be nothing to him and this he knew. She could be calculating, could even be hard but never would it be in her to be deliberately cruel, not so long as he was there to stand between her and anything that might jade her giving nature.

Hassrath sighed harshly, looking back at the fire. These protective and possessive thoughts had awakened a craving in him that while not unfamiliar was one not often felt. Though the Qun didn't mark days of birth the way they did here he knew he was past his youth and suspected himself to be at least a decade older than her. In all that time the Tamassran had never called for him to contribute to the next generation of the Qun. It was not something he considered a failure because the choices of the Tamassran were not something he had ever thought to question, even now. He found himself wanting the intimacy they had shared the night before but on a level he knew would push at the fragile boundaries of his control and this he knew was why their actions the night before would be cause for censure. And it wasn't simply his ignorance that stayed him though that was enough to make him feel a marked shame. She had plainly stated that her own experiences had been 'distasteful' and he had no way to know if she would submit to him simply out of a feeling of obligation, of duty. He might not be entirely sure what he wanted but he knew it was not that. It was that uncertainty eventually that drove him from the room, quietly closing the door behind him before regarding the basvaraad that guarded their door.

"Take me to the elf."

It never dawned on him to wonder how these men knew exactly which one it was he demanded.


When the pounding began Fenris shot straight to full wakefulness, quickly identifying where the offending noise was coming from, and throwing away the covers to begin searching for something to cover himself. Hawke groaned, cracking an eye open enough to note that the sun had not even begun trying to lighten the sky outside their window and rolling over to grab his pillow to cover her head.

"Tell them to come back at a decent hour," she groused sleepily from between the pillows. "Unless the Seekers are burning the city in search of me I do not care!"

Chuckling as he pulled on the leather leggings that he habitually wore, Fenris shook his head and almost said something smart but the pounding started again. Eyebrows furrowed he ignored Hawke's muffled curses and decided that it almost sounded like someone was trying to break the door from its hinges. Stalking bare-chested to the door, he pulled it fully open, expecting some emergency. What confronted him was indeed an emergency though few would appreciate it. Even he didn't entirely understand it but one look at the kossith that stood outside his door and he knew that something had worked Hassrath to just this side of explosive. When he said nothing, simply reached up to finger the hilt of his sword in its sheath across his back, Fenris nodded curtly that he understood. Without closing the door he returned to the bedroom, pulling the pillow from Hawke's head and pressing a light kiss to her forehead when she groaned and refused to open her eyes.

"It's for me," he whispered, not surprised when her eyes cracked to look at him in confusion. "I'll be back."

With that he snatched his jerkin and sword and left her laying there staring after him.


If the sight of the Knight-Commander and Fenris had become a much lauded tale among the Templars the ensuing one between the kossith warrior and oddly tattooed elf was destined for legend. Hassrath was in no mood to pull punches and Fenris was more than happy to oblige him. Both men were so focused on their opponents that they never noticed when the spaces outside the circle they were to stay in by mutual agreement soon filled with Templars. Even the Knight-Commanders, who had still been awake and discussing the Starkhaven Circle's future were drawn. Whereas the crowd gathered for the polite if powerful sparring match between Fenris and Cullen had been a boisterous one, this one seemed to understand that this time there was a passion that had been lacking in the one previous and it was their silent observation that kept the illusion that this fight was to the finish, whatever that might ultimately be.

Hassrath's silent intensity sparked a nervousness in Fenris, one that he consciously ignored but that his lyrium understood all too well and it glowed gently in the light, contentedly waiting his command should he require it. Fenris ignored it, knowing come what may, he wouldn't be needing it. Hassrath had barely spared a glance at it before he had launched into an attack that had Fenris retreating under its intensity. This was no simple opening volley, designed to test at the opponent's strengths and weaknesses because both men already knew where those lay. It also wasn't something Hassrath was doing to intimidate his rival and Fenris knew it. This was something held tightly leashed finally let off the chain. When Hassrath broke off, backing away and confidently swinging his heavy longsword from one hand to the other in wide sweeps that had the tip just scraping the dusty sand that covered the floor Fenris had just enough time to wonder exactly what it was that had been released before Hassrath again moved in, impatient perhaps at Fenris's pause.

Fenris again found himself retreating, confidently blocking every move the much larger kossith made because at the end of the day despite the sheer power of his attacks, Hassrath was no match for Fenris's speed. The martial part of Fenris was pleased at these all out volleys because even the famous endurance of the Qunari warriors had its limits. Eventually, Hassrath would tire.

When Hassrath again backed away, breathing hard and a violent snarl parked across his face Erwin felt a tenseness in his chest, one that it took a moment for him to identify as fear. This Tal-Vashoth who until now had simply been a silent and imposing figure stood across the room looked primal with his long hair tangled in the horns that framed his head and his eyes burning with a desire to see his opponent bested. He looked like some… thing escaped from the Fade and the thought of being in Fenris's place made his insides turn because he knew this was a reality that he would surely face. Cullen regarded the look on Erwin's face and looking about he saw it echoed on all those faces about him. Turning a thoughtful gaze back to the fight when Fenris finally made a move, one that the kossith easily sidestepped because it hadn't been a serious intent but one designed to draw Hassrath back into charging full tilt, Cullen came to a decision.

Hassrath did not take the bait that Fenris had tossed at him, instead regarded the elf with a contemptuous sneer and taking an opportunity that Fenris did not realize he'd given to drive his fist directly between Fenris's shoulder blades. The blow knocked the air from him, very nearly knocked his weapon from him and did cause him to lose balance under the added forward momentum. Fenris fell to his knees, skidding in the sand. Hassrath stalked after him and Fenris knew then that this was not to be a match played by any ordinary rule. Clutching at a handful of sand as he struggled to draw air into his lungs, he gracefully flipped himself around when he heard the heavy thud of Hassrath's boot, launching the sand directly in the kossith's face.

Hassrath roared in anger, frustrated that he was so easily tricked. Backing away he managed to blink enough of the offending grime away in time to see Fenris closing in, far too close for him to parry. Bringing his sword up in one hand to block, he shot the other out almost blindly and was gratified when it connected. Clenching as much of the jerkin that Fenris wore into a fist as he could he unceremoniously lifted the startlingly light elf off his feet, ignoring the bite of Fenris's sword when the tip cut into his side just enough to draw blood. Before Fenris had a chance to even register that he had in fact drawn first blood his world exploded in a riot of color and dark as the kossith bowed his head enough to ensure a solid blow and yanked his face into what was the thickest part of the kossith skull – the space between the base of the horns.

Knowing it would take Fenris a few moments to collect his wits about him after the blow, Hassrath tossed him away and returned to trying to clear his sight. Fenris lay in the dirt, a long trail in it to show the power behind the almost casual way Hassrath had thrown him. He struggled for air, which had again been knocked from him and fighting his way to sitting, he struggled for equilibrium which the resounding blow had mercilessly disrupted. It was not until he turned to look at Hassrath, who was wiping the tears that were cleansing his sight that he realized he was bleeding as well. Hassrath had an outrageously crimson patch smeared in his white hair and as the kossith turned to regard Fenris he gently touched his nose, hissing at the pain and realizing instantly that it was in fact broken. It was only the shock of the injury that was keeping him from feeling it.

Both men suddenly stopped, looking at Fenris's sword where it had fallen from his nerveless fingers after Hassrath's blow. Looking back up at the looming giant of a man, Fenris cocked an eyebrow at him. Hassrath grunted, and hooking his boot under the sword in the sand he kicked it back to Fenris who watched it skid to a halt not an arm's length away. Smiling with a feral intensity, Fenris wiped at the blood on his face as he got to his feet and picked up his weapon.

'Round one,' Cullen thought to himself, 'to the Tal-Vashoth.'

And this was the way of it, for over an hour the two tested the bounds of polite combat, using every dirty trick in their collective arsenals. Sometimes Fenris outmaneuvered the often lumbering giant, sometimes Hassrath simply overpowered the smaller elf. But before the dirt settled, both men were bleeding from shallow cuts, covered in sweat-soaked grime and had thousand-yard stares that Cullen could remember from his days in training. Neither were willing to admit it but they were both done and it was Cullen who stepped between them. Hassrath growled but it was at best halfhearted and Fenris simply dropped to the dirt, sitting exactly where he had been standing. Cullen had no idea what had started these men down this path, but here was where it would end or he would have them both locked in their rooms and he said as much.

Fenris looked up at Hassrath, whom he found looking back at him. Cullen thought this something serious they both realized, and the fact that it had been was entirely beside the point. Suddenly both men smiled and from there it was not too far to laughter. Cullen looked sideways at the both of them, shaking his head because the sight of either laughing, much less both at the same time was more than he could handle. Fatigue, he mused as he stalked off, maybe head injuries. As he joined the crowd now leaving the arena that was used for training during the winter months, he paused by Hawke, who had stood watching from the door throughout.

"I will leave them to your tender mercies," Cullen remarked, the laughter still echoing in the high vaulted room. "Do try not to be too gentle, will you?"

Hawke didn't look at him, just snorted derisively as if to say that went without question. Once the room was clear Hawke pushed away from the wall and stalked out into the arena. Neither man saw her coming because now Fenris was laying flat on his back and Hassrath had planted his sword and was leaned over it. She waited knowing that their mirth couldn't last forever.

"I do not know what that was all about," she finally ground out, holding up a hand when Fenris shot to sitting, looking like he was about to try and explain, "and I do not care. We will chalk it up to too long stuck in small spaces with nothing to do and leave it at that." Without pause she reached out and grabbed Hassrath's hand because he was closest. When he went to growl in protest, she latched onto an obviously broken finger and tugged to get the digit straightened out, completely unsurprised when his growl ended sounding more like a squeak at the completely unexpected pain. "Do not move," she growled up at him.

"I would not test her, my friend," Fenris mused as he found his feet a little unsteadily. "She may be small but she has a bit of a sadistic streak in her."

"Oh," she remarked levelly as she concentrated on drawing from the Fade to knit the bone back into place. "I haven't even gotten to you yet."

The gentle sarcasm in those words made Fenris groan and Hassrath regarded his friend's bloodied face with just a hint of a smile.


*I am the first person to admit it - I really seriously suck at fights. You add weapons and it just gets worse. That scene took just this side of forever to write and as usual, my iTunes saved me completely by accident. Circle Chant by Gypsy Caravan came up and tah-dah, the muse was inspired so I put it on repeat. If you like middle eastern music you should check them out. They are seriously good at what they do.