A/N: Here Lies the Abyss is finally under way! Hawke's here, along with her Warden friend... and a certain someone else. You'll see. Warning for swearing, bickering, sexual references, Alistair not getting on with Hawke and REALLY not getting on with her Warden friend. I also dug into Thedosian dragonlore a little.

Summary: A meeting with Varric's contacts provides information that appalls everyone, but opens up a new lead in the war against Corypheus. However, it also stirs up Alistair's worst memories and worst traits, as the man that sent him into exile once before might be about to do it again.


"They should be right around here," Varric said, leading the way through the fields south of Crestwood. They'd already killed a dozen bandits, settled a new Inquisition campsite, and sealed a Fade Rift that morning. Now to find this mysterious friend of Varric's.

"There, what's that." Blackwall pointing out a human figure lying unmoving on the ground, and as Elisif neared it, seeing Inquisition uniform and blood on the grass and knowing that the Inquisition was down an agent, shouts rang out and Red Templars swarmed from the undergrowth.

"Inquisition to arms!" Elisif cried, alarmed. "FUS RO – agh!"

A Red Templar shield hit her in the face and sent her reeling, the Jagged Crown absorbing the worst of the shock, but it left Elisif down and vulnerable. At least until Alistair sprang over, his own Thu'um shattering the Templar ranks as he went for the one that had hit her.

"Not that one, lad, go for the big one – Maker's Breath," Blackwall sighed, who gave up trying to talk sense into a battle-raged Dragonborn and set about drawing the fire of a few of them who were going for Varric and the two mages. Fiona was concentrating on keeping a barrier over her son, while Dorian was trying something complicated involving fire runes and a horror spell.

Varric was the only one keeping his head under pressure, throwing some frost mines at the knot of Templars all charging at Alistair, then taking shots with Bianca. Elisif staggered to her feet, downing a regeneration potion and trying to shake what might possibly be a concussion, and looked around to see how to help. And while normally she could see a way, her brain wasn't functioning properly and she was dizzy and…

"Hold still," a man whispered, and she turned to see a figure creeping out from behind a rock, placing a finger to his lips. He had shoulder-length reddish-blonde hair, amber eyes, pale skin, a hood shadowing most of his features… and a mage's staff in his hands.

Magic flared and healing magic flowed through her, like Restoration magic but more intense, voices in her ears whispering soothing things and her aches and pains fading away.

Elisif opened her eyes and realised she was fine.

"What did you do? Who are you?" she gasped. The scruffy healer mage just grinned.

"Best you don't know. But you're welcome. Go help your friends."

"Right," Elisif said, turning back to the battle, just in time to see some sort of alchemical flask shattering above the Templars, and all of them staggering back, dazed. Alistair also seemed somewhat affected, although he recovered faster and started hacking into one of the Templars while it was vulnerable.

And then Elisif saw the one who'd thrown the flask. A human woman with pale skin and blonde hair with dark roots, a distinctive blood stripe across her nose, and red and black armour with pointy shoulders.

"COME ON TEMPLARS, I MUST HAVE KILLED A DOZEN OF YOU BEFORE NOW!" she roared. "FACE ME LIKE MEN! ESPECIALLY YOU AND YOU!"

She leapt forward and darted past one, then another, slapping some strange marks on their shoulders before rolling forward with daggers outstretched in a fluid move reminiscent of Cicero in his prime. Trained assassin most definitely.

"Do you know who she is?" Elisif started to say to the healer mage, before realising he was gone. Which was… right, that was odd and disconcerting. But she had other things to worry about, such as mopping up the casualties before Alistair and this assassin did.

"MUL QAH DIIV!" she Shouted, feeling Dragon Aspect flare into life, dragon power enhancing her skills, and she charged into the fray, her shield bashing into one and sending it flying, even as Dawnbreaker carved another in two. The assassin actually squealed.

"Fabulous!" she laughed, as Elisif beheaded the last Templar and sent its head flying over the nearby cliffs. "What did you do? Are you a dragon shapeshifter?"

"Not exactly," Elisif admitted, and the assassin actually pouted.

"Oh. That's a shame. That would have been awesome! But you did literally just carve a Red Templar in half, which is fucking brilliant, scuse my Orlesian, and… VARRIC! You made it! I was starting to think you'd got lost!"

"I never get lost!" Varric protested as he put Bianca away and ambled up, arms outstretched. "I just… occasionally take us on detours. Hawke, this is Her Inquisitorialness, Elisif Herself, along with Grand Enchanter Fiona of the mage rebellion, Dorian Pavus the Nice Tevinter, Warden Blackwall, and the Official Inquisitorial Plaything, Alistair Theirin. Who you and I met a couple of times, remember?"

"Remember? The rumoured Fereldan royalty who Isabela reckoned was the best lay in Kirkwall?" Hawke grinned, eyeing Alistair up rather too keenly for Elisif's liking. "How could I forget. Don't think I've ever seen you sober before."

Alistair's face flushed red as he glared at Hawke, a little lost for words at this.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not a wanted fugitive! How's your boyfriend, Hawke? Blown up any buildings lately?"

Hawke blinked in surprise, before smiling rather too sweetly at Alistair and purring back a response.

"Why do you ask, Alistair? Did you need another sexually transmitted disease treating?"

Alistair really had no comeback for that, mouth opening and closing as his face went from pink to deep scarlet.

"I don't… I mean, I… I definitely don't have any sexually transmitted diseases," Alistair managed to get out, and Elisif believed him. She'd had a mage healer check him over after reaching Skyhold, just in case.

"Perhaps you could leave my boyfriend alone and tell me who you are and what help you're offering the Inquisition?" Elisif said tersely, folding her arms and staring the woman down. She was fairly certain this Hawke was a few years older than her, but she surely didn't act like it.

Hawke had at least had the decency to look a little awkward on hearing she'd just implied the Inquisitor's boyfriend was riddled with the pox.

"I'm… sure Alistair's perfectly well-behaved these days and in perfect health," Hawke said swiftly. "We've all had our wild years, haven't we? During my first few years in Kirkwall, I must have been in and out of the Blooming Rose so often they were offering me a loyalty card. Collect ten stamps, get a free… well. Never mind. Not important."

Muffled laughter from Blackwall, who sounded like he was finding this whole situation hilarious, while Dorian could be heard asking Varric if he wanted to know what the stamps looked like.

"Stendarr's mercy," Elisif muttered, deciding everyone would be best off if they got to the point. "Hawke. Varric said you had information. Regarding Corypheus and some sort of corruption in the Wardens?"

"Yes!" Hawke said, brightening up. "I did! Look, this whole thing is complicated and we're not entirely sure if it is linked to Corypheus, but he's a darkspawn, this involves Wardens and the Blight and, well, seeing as it was me who found Corypheus in the first place and might have accidentally unleashed him on the world, we – I felt we should do something about it."

She was right about that at least.

"Varric said you were sure you'd killed Corypheus," Elisif said, still a little unclear on how Corypheus had gone from dead at Hawke's hands to invading Haven.

"We did!" Hawke protested, appealing to Varric for confirmation. "Bethany's healing spells were saying he was dead, and Varric, Aveline and I have seen a lot of corpses in our time! He wasn't breathing or moving or anything. I'm not in the business of leaving live enemies behind me, in fact believe me, this is very very personal! If I kill a thing, it stays dead, my reputation relies on it. Getting up and walking around after I've killed them? That's bad. That's very very bad! I can't have that, Herald, I'll never get work again!"

Elisif had heard Cicero say very similar things before now, and was now very curious to know what these two would make of each other.

"All right, fine, where is your friend?" Elisif sighed. "Was it that mage healer I saw round here a few minutes ago?"

Hawke's face had closed up entirely, and Elisif had seen that faux-innocent look on Cicero's face too often to mistake it for anything else.

"I didn't see any mage healers round here?" Hawke said innocently. "Are you sure they weren't with the Venatori?"

"Quite sure, he healed my concussion," Elisif said, looking around, sure she'd heard something in the undergrowth. Hawke just shook her head.

"No one around here that's not either with you or the Red Templars," Hawke said, also glancing around. "Oh, and my cat of course, now where is he. HEEERE, POUNCEY-POUNCEY-POUNCEY!"

More rustling, and a ginger tabby darted from the bushes, making straight for Hawke and leaping straight up onto her shoulder, purring as it nuzzled her neck. Hawke tickled its chin and kissed its nose before carefully picking the cat up and draping it round her neck.

"'oo's a good kitty," Hawke cooed, and Elisif bit her lip to stop from squealing over it herself. Nords as a culture neither trusted cats or kept them as pets, and the only place you ever really saw them was on board ships. But they were common in the rest of the Empire, and according to Liriel, very popular pets in Alinor too, and they were starting to make headway among the Reachmen as pets too. She'd been tempted to look into getting Maia a kitten… of course, that was no longer necessary now Maia had a mabari.

But Hawke had one, and it seemed surprisingly loyal and affectionate towards her, and Elisif only barely resisted the urge to start cooing over it herself.

"You've got a cat!" Dorian gasped, clearly a cat person and clearly not resisting at all. "He's adorable! Hello there! What's your name, you little cutie?"

The cat was nuzzling into Dorian's hand, clearly loving having its ears played with and fur stroked, and Hawke seemed thrilled to extol her cat's virtues to all and sundry.

"His name is Sir Pounce-A-Lot and he's been my friend and companion for years, and he follows me everywhere," Hawke said proudly. "Isn't that right, Pouncey?"

Sir Pounce mewed, almost as if he was agreeing with her, and Elisif had to wonder if perhaps Hawke's cat was more than he seemed. Were Thedosian cats capable of understanding humans like the mabari were? She'd have to ask around.

But in the meantime, Hawke had information and wasn't going to give it out here, clearly. So Elisif motioned for Hawke to lead the way, Dorian on one side of her and Varric on the other, while she hung behind with Alistair, Fiona and Blackwall.

"Do we trust her?" Elisif whispered to Fiona.

"She's a trained assassin who's survived more dangerous situations than most people ever even face in one lifetime," Fiona murmured back. "She backed the mage rebellion, but she doesn't seem to have a problem with methods that get innocent people killed. That said, the Champion of Kirkwall also helped people in need. The Inquisition can use her, Elisif. All the same… do keep an eye on her."

That chimed with Elisif's own opinion, even as Alistair grimaced.

"I hardly ever got STDs," Alistair muttered. "It was just one or two times…"

"Happens to the best of us," Blackwall laughed, patting his shoulder. "Don't worry about it lad. You were away from home, lonely, having a hard time… not your fault."

"She didn't have to fucking tell everyone," Alistair muttered, still glaring at Hawke's back and Elisif could only sigh on realising that Hawke and Alistair were never going to be friends and that she'd have to keep them apart constantly.

"All right, he's up here," Hawke was saying, having led them out of the sunshine and into a dark tunnel that wound back into Crestwood's cliffs. "Don't mind the mess and bloodstains, this used to be an old slaver or bandit den. Not sure which. My Warden friend had already got here and claimed it when I arrived. It's possible he talked them into leaving voluntarily… but I wouldn't place coin on it."

There was a door ahead of them, a blindfolded skull logo next to it, and sure enough, the bloodstains were evidence of a fight. One this Warden had presumably won.

Hawke was knocking on the door, the cat leaping off her shoulders as she did so, adding a yowl to the sound as it scratched the door.

"It's me," Hawke called over the sound of Sir Pounce-A-Lot's meowing. "I brought friends. Varric, and the Inquisitor."

There was the sound of a bar being lifted and laid to one side, and the latch clicking. Hawke pushed the door open and went in first, Sir Pounce-A-Lot darting in alongside her, tail raised in greeting as he ran to where a man in Warden armour was kneeling down, smiling as he stroked the cat's head.

He had black hair shot through with grey, pale skin, a few battle scars, and as he looked up, Elisif saw brilliant blue eyes in an old warrior's face and was reminded of Madanach for some reason… except she didn't think he was a mage.

"Hello," Elisif began, feeling oddly unsure of this man despite Hawke's reassurances he was here to help. "I'm Inquisitor Elisif, who are…?"

"HIM?"

Alistair had taken one look and lost his head completely.

"YOU TREACHEROUS MURDERING BASTARD, I AM GONNA HAVE YOUR FUCKING HEAD YOU SONOFA-!"

Alistair had shoved past Elisif, hand to his sword and face contorted in rage like Elisif had never seen on him before, and as the other Warden reached for his own weapon, Elisif realised horrified that Alistair truly did mean to kill the man.

"Alistair no, stop!" Elisif cried, putting a hand to his chest, trying to hold him back, and on his other side, Fiona had materialised, managing to stop Alistair actually drawing his sword.

"Son, no," Fiona said firmly. "I don't blame you for being angry but we might need him."

"Need him?" Alistair shouted. "He killed Duncan, Mum! Him turning and walking away while all my brother Wardens were slaughtered! I lost everyone I cared about on that battlefield! EVERYONE! Apart from Lyra. And you're telling me we need his help now? The man who thought it was a good idea to outlaw the Grey Wardens during a Blight?"

Elisif closed her eyes and realised just who Hawke had dragged up from the Wardens. The one man guaranteed to send the normally sweet and easygoing Alistair into a towering rage. The one he'd walked out on Lyra over, because he believed he'd deserved execution, not the honour of serving as a Warden.

"Loghain Mac Tir, I presume," Elisif sighed, and Loghain smirked and nodded.

"You presume correctly," Loghain drawled, hand leaving his sword hilt as he decided Alistair probably wasn't going to kill him, not today at least. "Did the whelp there tell you I was the worst kind of traitor? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Did he also tell you that after his little tantrum, I was the one who had to pick up the job he abandoned and help Warden-Commander Surana finish the Archdemon once and for all?"

Alistair reached for his sword again, this time managing to break out of Elisif's grasp, and it was only Blackwall grabbing him from behind that held him back this time.

"Fuck you, Loghain, I swear you're a dead man," Alistair gasped, and Elisif gave up on anything constructive happening with these two in the same room.

"Alistair, that's enough!" Elisif snapped, firmly positioning herself in front of Alistair, both hands on his chest. "Yes, I know there's history, and no, he wouldn't be my first choice of help. But if he has anything that could help with Corypheus, then I need to hear him out. So if you can't control yourself, you need to wait outside."

Alistair growled, eyes not leaving Loghain, still struggling against Blackwall's grip.

"I am NOT leaving you alone with him!" Alistair snapped, eyes barely flickering in her direction. "I mean it, Elisif, if he lays one finger on you, I am ripping his fucking head off."

"I know," Elisif said softly. "But I need you calm, and right now, you're not. I won't be alone, Alistair. The others will be here. And he's just a man. If he tries anything, I'll Shout him down. And then you can come back and help me finish him off."

Alistair growled softly under his breath, glaring viciously at Loghain… but he didn't argue any further.

"If he screws the Inquisition over, he's dead," Alistair snapped, before turning and leaving, striding furiously out of the cave. Elisif couldn't quite stop herself flinching, because Loghain had sent him walking out on a cause and a loved one before.

"Blackwall, go with him," Elisif whispered. "Keep an eye on him." A brother Warden would be the best person to anchor him to what was important, right?

"Will do," Blackwall said, saluting with a fist to the chest. "You need us back here, just Shout."

"I will," Elisif promised, and Blackwall followed Alistair out.

"He won't leave," Fiona said softly, clearly guessing what was on Elisif's mind. "My son is a grown man now, not a boy any more. He knows what's important."

Elisif just hoped for everyone's sake that Fiona was right. So she glanced to where Hawke had been awkwardly waiting with Varric and motioned for her to come forward.

"Well, between the two of you, you've managed to make my boyfriend lose his temper already," Elisif said, folding her arms. "I hope for your sakes your information is worth it. What do you know, and how will it help the Inquisition?"

Hawke glanced at Loghain and motioned in his direction.

"Loghain can tell you more than me. I've been on the run from the Chantry since Kirkwall fell apart. What I was curious about was the red lyrium that we'd inadvertently brought back from that ancient thaig. Knight-Commander Meredith had had a sword made of the stuff, and it eventually sent her mad and turned her into a lyrium statue. I was trying to find out more about it, and thought the Wardens might know more. That was when I tracked down Loghain. We were looking into it… but then things went pear-shaped."

Elisif hadn't heard that one before, but guessed it was some sort of Fereldan euphemism for things not going well.

"What happened?" she asked. "Was Corypheus involved?"

"We're not sure," Hawke said, glancing at Loghain. "I didn't know he was even still alive until Varric wrote and told me from Skyhold. But something's up with the Wardens."

Hawke glanced at Loghain again, indicating for him to continue, and Loghain nodded grimly.

"A few months ago, every Warden in both Fereldan and Orlais began to hear the Calling," Loghain growled. "Every single one. Warden-Commander Surana's been off on some mission in the Deep Roads for the last year, and the Orlesian who replaced her immediately took all the Fereldan Wardens to meet with Warden-Commander Clarel in Orlais."

"The Calling… that's what Wardens hear at the end of their lives, when the Blight finally catches up with them," Elisif whispered, her suspicions crystallising as she realised she and Madanach had been right – the Wardens had indeed all started hearing a possibly-not-real Calling at once and disappeared. "They can't all be hearing that at once when they all did the Joining at different times. Something's messing with the taint, surely?"

"Something could be, yes," Fiona said grimly. "Sentient darkspawn speeding it up, maybe. It happened before… but there would be signs of physical corruption too. Alistair's not had any, has he?"

"No," Elisif said, having made a point of looking for that on several occasions before now. "All Alistair does is hear the song. It's something affecting their minds, not their bodies. They think they're hearing it, but they're not actually dying, not yet. Madanach thought it might be some sort of demon."

"Also possible, a fear demon or nightmare demon, bringing out their greatest fear, but it's clearly using the taint as a channel," Fiona said, narrowing her eyes. "This has to be Corypheus's work."

Both Hawke and Loghain were looking at them in some surprise, clearly not having expected dots being joined so quickly… but Elisif was gratified to see she'd impressed them.

"So how do we stop this," Elisif said softly. She'd seen Alistair's mental health falling apart due to the Calling, Alistair sincerely believing his life was over and committing to the Inquisition because it offered the chance to die honourably. Not to mention poor Blackwall, also affected and stoically saying nothing the whole time, but probably joining up for similar reasons to Alistair. And all those others, all across Thedas, all thinking wrongly that they were dying. Elisif had to do something.

"Kill Corypheus and the problem might sort itself out," Hawke said, frowning. "At any rate, you want to worry less about the fake Calling than what the Wardens are doing in response to it."

Elisif really wasn't sure she wanted to know what the Warden response was, and Fiona wasn't looking too happy either.

"What have they done," Fiona whispered, horrified. "What have they done, Loghain?"

"You know the Wardens, Fiona," Loghain said, finally acknowledging her directly for the first time. "You know the code – defeat the Blight by any means necessary. Well, apparently I can't manage that, because I've walked out on yet another promise. Apparently I'm one of the only ones who thought blood magic and demons was a step too far."

"WHAT?" Fiona cried and while Elisif wasn't opposed to magical warfare, this sounded bad.

"What are they doing?" Elisif whispered. "Tell me!"

"Clarel thinks this is the end of the Wardens, but she can't leave behind a world at risk from the Blight," Loghain explained. "So she's found some sort of Tevinter magister and with his help is trying to raise an army of demons to help invade the Deep Roads and root out the remaining Old Gods. Kill them, no more Blights. In theory."

If that magister wasn't working for the Venatori, Elisif would be stunned. A whole army of demons… wait. Army of demons. Like the one that Corypheus had invaded Orlais with in that dark future. Oh no.

"We have to stop this," Elisif whispered. "Fiona? What sort of things would they need to do?"

"You'd need blood magic to do this – a lot of blood magic," Fiona said, despairing. "You'd need human sacrifice on a huge scale. And if there's one thing Wardens do well, it's sacrifice. Elisif, we must do something. I know I'm no Warden any more, but we have to save them, if it's not too late."

Elisif nodding, agreeing. She'd not talked widely with anyone about what Madanach's notes from the future had held, but this was all starting to tally horribly with what she'd read there. Hadn't she and Madanach suspected that finding the missing Wardens might lead them to Corypheus somehow? So it had proved.

"You have the Inquisition's attention, Warden Loghain. Where's this magister?"

"I don't know for sure, Clarel took the Wardens and left – after ensuring I was branded a traitor just for objecting to her mad plan," Loghain growled. "But I have my suspicions. Last I heard, some of the Wardens had gone out to the Western Approach for some sort of top secret test mission. I think it's related. When you're ready, Inquisitor, we should head out there and investigate. There are Wardens out looking for me, I'd never make it out there on my own… but with Inquisition backing and protection, I can show you where they're meeting."

Alistair would not like this at all… but he wouldn't like the idea of the Wardens turning to demonology either. Elisif still didn't know if she trusted Loghain… but this was one man, and she had an entire organisation at her disposal. She'd need to take precautions… but if she made sufficient preparations, Loghain wouldn't be in a position to betray her in the first place.


Alistair had still been there when they'd left the cave, Blackwall standing next to him with a hand on his back, and Elisif hadn't realised until she saw him that she'd been more worried than she cared to admit that he might not have been.

"M'lady," Blackwall nodded, patting Alistair's back and stepping away. "Your lad here's still loyal and he still loves you… but you should know he's not happy."

Elisif thanked him, and as Blackwall left them to it, she turned her attention to Alistair, patting his arm gently.

"You're here," she whispered, not bothering to hide the relief in her voice, and Alistair did smile at that. Only a little, but he smiled.

"So are you," he said softly, and while he shot a filthy look at Loghain, he didn't say anything to him. Clearly Alistair wasn't quite as impetuous as he'd once been, and Elisif smiled and reached out, hoping for a cuddle.

Alistair's arms went round her and she felt a kiss on her forehead, but he still seemed angry and Elisif had a feeling he was not all right with any of this.

"Loghain's coming back to Skyhold. He's got a lead on possible Venatori influence over the Wardens, and I think it's something we need to check out. I'm sorry," Elisif whispered.

Alistair flinched but did not argue.

"If you think it's best," was all Alistair said. Which was not reassuring and likely meant A Talk in the not too distant future, but he was still here. He hadn't walked out. She still had her Warden.

"Don't think I approve of Loghain's actions or think you're entirely wrong," Elisif said softly. "He's here as an asset, that's all."

Alistair tightened his grip on her and kissed her forehead again, rather more tenderly this time.

"Thank you," Alistair said, smiling. Then he saw his mother approaching, grim-faced, and his face fell.

"Mum?" Alistair asked, heedless of Loghain turning sharply on hearing that. "Are you all right?"

Fiona walked straight up to him and hugged him, which from Fiona, was unusual public behaviour.

"Mum? Maker, what is it?" Alistair gasped, by now alarmed. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh my son," Fiona gasped. "My son, the Wardens are in terrible, terrible danger and if the Maker had willed otherwise, you might..."

Have been among them, Fiona didn't need to say. Elisif whimpered a little and cuddled Alistair that bit tighter, and Alistair wordlessly put his arm around both of them.

"That wasn't the Maker's will, that was my own stupidity, Mum," Alistair said, attempting to lighten the mood. It didn't really work. "What's going on?"

Blackwall had edged closer too, looking alarmed at talk of Wardens in trouble.

"We found out why the Wardens have disappeared," Elisif explained. "It's not just you, Alistair. They're all hearing the Calling, every single Warden in Southern Thedas. Your friend Lyra's off on some mission somewhere else so in her absence, the Fereldan Wardens went to Orlais. And the Orlesian Wardens have decided they're going to go out in a last stand… but they can't leave behind a world at risk of Blights with no Wardens. So..."

"They plan to sacrifice their own in blood magic rituals to raise an army of demons that will scour the Deep Roads and destroy the remaining Old Gods before they can rise as Archdemons and lead Blights," Fiona said bitterly. "And if things had gone otherwise you might have been among them."

"I wouldn't have stuck around for demons and blood magic," Alistair promised, nuzzling his mother's hair. "I'd have come to get help and warn people." He looked up at where Loghain was watching from afar, self-satisfied smirk on his face, and Alistair scowled as he realised Loghain, despite everything, had in fact done the right thing. For once.

"He's still a weapons-grade bastard," Alistair said tersely. Elisif merely patted him on the shoulder, deciding not to argue the point. You could after all do the right thing but still be a massive pain to be around.

And so Elisif sent Loghain on ahead, with a letter of introduction for Inquisition personnel advising that he was to be escorted to Skyhold and given all hospitality as befitted an Inquisition asset… and a postscript in Tamrielic for Madanach warned him to treat Loghain well but keep his wits about him. Hawke handed Sir Pounce-A-Lot over to Loghain, and then to Elisif's surprise, beckoned her back for a word.

"So… Inquisitor. Herald. Lady Elisif. Lady Elisif Dragonborn about whom many many stories have been told and who just cast some sort of dragon spell earlier that let you carve a Red Templar in two."

Hawke was smiling hopefully, practically bouncing up and down, and Alistair could be heard muttering "Akatosh's Thu'um" to himself in Tamrielic. Which was actually rather endearing because Elisif didn't even know he knew much of the language. She suspected Maia's influence.

She squeezed his hand and asked Hawke what she wanted.

"Well, they say you can kill dragons and do some sort of weird thing with your voice that may or may not be a gift from the Maker, and you're definitely impressive, and the Inquisition's all about helping people out and killing monsters, isn't it?" Hawke said, definitely sidling up to a point, a point likely involving something dangerous.

"There's something dangerous nearby you want me to deal with, isn't there?" Elisif sighed wearily, seeing where this was going already.

"Yes!" Hawke gasped, relieved. "I mean, not on your own. I'd help! But it's a bit dangerous, Loghain said if it wasn't Blighted, it wasn't his problem, and I could do with some scary warriors with swords between me and it."

"It?" Elisif asked, somehow knowing where this was going.

"She," Hawked corrected. "It's a female, well, they're all females aren't they? Only just over that hill it turns out there's a..."

"A high dragon?" Alistair interrupted. "Here? And no one's doing anything about it? The village is right there, and this is the main road between Denerim and Val Royeaux, there's dozens of travellers come this way in any given month! Elisif, we have to do something, we can't just leave a dragon on the loose!"

"Why did I know this was going to happen," Varric sighed, and Dorian, who'd been staring after Loghain's retreating back with no little interest, turned abruptly around.

"We're fighting a dragon, are we. Oh marvellous, how I love giant scaly lizards breathing fire at me. Elisif, if I get scars off this, I will literally never forgive you."

"See them as a badge of honour," Elisif said cheerfully, the dovah within already perking up. She'd never fought a Thedosian dragon, not properly. About time she put that right. "All right, where is it? We really can't leave this village at risk from a dragon."

Varric groaned and Dorian shook his head, and Fiona made a mental note that perhaps following the Inquisitor on her missions was a little too exciting and perhaps remaining at Skyhold might be the better option in future. But she wasn't about to abandon her son, and Alistair was definitely up for it, and Blackwall wasn't about to let the Inquisitor risk herself while he stayed back. So off they went… and sure enough, the dragon was just over the hill, perched on top of a ruined fort, taking to the air as it saw them coming.

Fiona's barrier spell flickered into life, Varric raised Bianca, and Elisif drew Dawnbreaker, preparing to Shout it down.

"JOOR ZAH FRUL!"

The Shout made contact… but the dragon sailed on, completely unaffected, whirling around in a wide loop and spitting lightning at them.

Wait. Lightning?

"There's no Thu'um for that!" Elisif cried as she dived out of the way. "Dragons shouldn't be able to breathe lightning!"

"Well that one is, so I suggest we get on with killing it!" Blackwall roared, positioning himself in a protective stance while Alistair helped her up.

"This dragon-slaying sword," Alistair said, picking Dragonbane up once he'd got Elisif to her feet. "Is it going to actually do anything against Thedosian dragons, if Tamrielic ones are different?"

Elisif honestly had no idea.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But it's still sharp! Hit it hard enough, it'll do something, right?"

Exasperation and no little amount of panic in his eyes, but Alistair still dragged her out of the way anyway when it came round again, so presumably he still loved her.

But they had a dragon to fight, and if Elisif couldn't hit it in flight, Hawke and Varric were managing, and Dorian and Fiona's magic was also affecting it, and it had to land eventually.

Once it was down, it wasn't long before it was down for good, a dead high dragon lying at Elisif's feet after she'd run screaming at it and found to her delight that that technique worked as well on Thedosian dragons as it did on Tamrielic Dovah.

But the body wasn't doing anything, and the soul, if it had one, was staying stubbornly in its body.

"Damn it," Elisif cursed. A Dovahkiin faced with a species that wasn't Dovah. What did you do in this situation? Other than kill it as best you could. "The soul's staying put. Or going to the Fade. Or wherever dead dragons go."

"Where else would it go," Fiona said wearily, coming to sit beside her. "May I ask what you were expecting to happen?"

"I usually take the soul when I kill them," Elisif said bitterly, glaring at the dead dragon as if this was its fault. "That's how I found out I was Dragonborn. My city guards killed one and when I went to look at the corpse, I took its soul. This one? Nothing. It's not the same as the ones back home."

Looking at it closely when it wasn't breathing lightning at her, it did look different. Less streamlined. Chunkier limbs and body. Forelimbs not built into the wings. Odahviing was far more delicately built, and his forelimbs were one with his wings. A new species of dragons… and they weren't sentient Dovah, just animals.

"I don't suppose they are," Fiona said, looking at the dragon with new eyes. "You said there was no Thu'um for lightning. As if dragons use the same voice magic you do."

"Use it? They invented it!" Elisif cried. "It's their language! It's what they do! That's how they breathe fire, they Shout and fire comes into being."

She looked up to see astounded companions, Alistair running fingers across his lips in wonder, and Fiona's frown deepening.

"Not our high dragons, they don't, they have special glands for their breath," Fiona mused. "The Wardens have whole tomes on this at Weisshaupt – I must have read half of them while pregnant. There's glands for fire that contain some flammable material that ignites on reacting with air, and the frost-breathers have glands with something that freezes once it's activated and meets air, and the lightning-spitters have some sort of membrane that generates a current – there were diagrams on all of this from dissections by Warden mages, I can try and recreate them."

"Liriel might be interested," Elisif said, trying to wrap her head round this. "But they don't Shout words and have the thing they Shouted come to pass. They've got natural means of doing this."

"No," Fiona said, pursing her lips as she stared at her son. "But… old gods are different. Archdemons are different. They're more than beasts but they are dragons. The reason Grey Wardens have to be the ones to end a Blight is that an old god's soul is… resilient. They don't die permanently, and the Blight provides a conduit for that soul's survival – it'll pass into the nearest Blighted creature and take over. Darkspawn don't have souls… but Grey Wardens do. If an Archdemon's soul enters a Grey Warden instead of a darkspawn, the Warden's soul fights back and they destroy each other. It's why we need Wardens, they are the only ones who can stop a Blight and kill an Archdemon for good."

Not necessarily. A Dragonborn might be able to end a Blight too – but in the absence of Dragonborns, not to mention any extant lore on their existence, small wonder the Grey Wardens had resorted to alternate means of bringing down a corrupted Dovah. Which must be what the old gods were.

Which meant there was a difference between the Archdemons that led Blights and the corrupted creature Corypheus had at his command. Corypheus's dragon was fearsome but it was just a beast. It wasn't one of the Dov.

But there were Dovah here. Sleeping. Entombed. Capable of great and terrible things. There had been seven, five now dead, but two still out there somewhere. The thought was an intriguing one. She wondered if Paarthurnax or Odahviing might know about seven lost Dov.

They weren't here to ask though, and she had bigger problems. Such as the missing Wardens being co-opted by the Venatori, and a ball to attend that was looming up sooner than Elisif would like, and a boyfriend who would dearly like to murder the Inquisition's latest asset. A boyfriend who still didn't look happy, and who would probably want to talk.

Elisif was not looking forward to that at all.


A/N: Yes, the cat is who you think it is. :) Someone refused to be left behind, and Hawke's decided that if she needs to keep him away from Corypheus, taking him to Skyhold is probably the best option. The shapeshifting ability has come from Morrigan via Lyra, but the cat form he managed on his own. Very useful for hiding from Templars.