Summary: The news of Adamant is getting out, and Alistair's telling the Warden veterans personally. However, the reaction of one of them raises his suspicions, but without anything solid to back them up, there's little he can do. Until a conversation with Elisif and a chain of coincidences reveal a truth that will shatter Skyhold.

A/N: Before Here Lies the Abyss, we have Blackwall's quest - turns out when you have genuine Wardens around and people comparing notes, things come out of the woodwork faster. I should warn you, it's a little emotionally rough.

Fiona had taken the news better than Alistair had expected. She'd despaired of her former order, but not exactly been surprised. She knew the obsession all too well, and promised him she'd fight alongside him in the battle if she could.

And then it was off to talk to Blackwall. Alistair found him in the stables, putting the finishing touches to a toy rocking-griffin… with little Lucy the mage-elf girl watching him.

"Don't mind me, just carving something for the little'uns," Blackwall said, indicating Lucy, who beamed at Alistair. She was a quiet and shy little thing, but a lot of that was just being nervous around humans, especially non-mage ones. Turned out that being the Grand Enchanter's son meant he didn't really count as a non-mage human any more.

"Blackwall's making a griffin-horsie!" Lucy told him eagerly. "He says we can play on it when it's finished."

"Brilliant!" Alistair breathed, joining her on the bale of hay she was perched on. "I always wanted a griffin. I was heartbroken when I joined the Wardens and realised they didn't have them any more."

Lucy's eyes turned sad as she heard this.

"Why don't they have them any more?" she asked. Alistair realised he didn't even know. Only that they'd got sick somehow and all died after the Fourth Blight. He told Lucy that and agreed with her it was very sad and a great loss to the world.

What he wasn't prepared for was Lucy's next question.

"Does Tamriel have griffins?"

Does Tamriel have… Alistair hadn't even thought to ask.

"I don't know," Alistair admitted. "Maybe? Elisif never mentioned them."

Lucy frowned at this.

"But you married the Queen of Tamriel, how can she not know?" Lucy demanded, most put out.

It was a bit touching to think Elisif ran the entire continent, and honestly probably not far off, but Alistair felt obliged to explain Elisif was only Queen of Skyrim, not the entire continent, and Skyrim was cold and snowy and maybe too cold for them. Either that or the dragons had eaten them but Alistair didn't tell her that.

"But they might live somewhere else in Tamriel?" Alistair offered by way of consolation. "It's a big place?"

Lucy perked up a little at that, glancing at Blackwall.

"They might at that, lass," Blackwall said thoughtfully. "You know who might know? Try Liriel. She's been all over Tamriel and studied all sorts of things. Bet she knows if there's griffins."

That got Lucy's attention, and next thing either man knew, she was off, gone to find Liriel who would in fact have many tales to tell of Alinorian griffins – a dying breed themselves these days, but there were still wild populations out there.

Alistair watched her go, amused to see how she was coming out of herself lately. All the mage kids were – all the mages were. Only the other day he'd been at a naming ceremony for a baby born to one of the former rebel mages. A baby born to an elven mage and her human husband… and they'd called him Alistair.

Alistair himself had been too emotional to say anything, but Madanach had put an arm round him and told the proud parents it was a good name for a good baby, named after a good man. The party had ended up carrying on late into the night. Turned out it wasn't just the new baby people were happy about but that Templars and Chantry sisters weren't taking it away either. Alistair sincerely hoped his baby namesake would have a better childhood than he'd had. Seriously, fuck the Chantry.

"She's a bit obsessed with Tamriel," Blackwall said, echoing his thoughts. "Well, all the mages are. I think they all think Elisif's taking them all back with her to this promised land of mage freedom. Suzette and Lucy seem to think so anyway. They keep pestering Bethany and me to ask Elisif when we're moving there."

Sooner than they thought, maybe, but Alistair didn't say any more on that topic. He could keep some secrets.

"She's not taking all the mages, and Mum says it's not right they all go. She says there'll still be mages born in Thedas every day and it's up to mages to stick around and train them. But if you want, I can put in a word for you? Elisif's going to need a new security service when she gets back, after the last one scared Maia. I'm sure she'd hire you in a heartbeat. And Bethany'd walk into an academic post at their university. You'd have a great time! I'll ask her for you if you want!"

Because Alistair wanted his mates there when he ended up as the Ornamental Trophy Consort… but he was sure Blackwall would be a natural for the Reformed Peneetus Ockelatis or whatever it was called.

Blackwall hesitated, and was Alistair imagining it or did he look guilty?

"I'm not the best fit for Imperial politics, lad," Blackwall said quietly. "If Bethany wants to go, I'll follow her, but my days at court are done."

"When were you ever at court?" Alistair asked, bewildered, and he had to wonder as Blackwall actually flinched.

"I wasn't always a Warden, lad, now let's leave it at that, shall we?" Blackwall said, the tone in his voice indicating this topic was closed. "Anyway. Did you want something? Heard your lady wife got back in last night. Don't tell me you're inviting me for a pint when she's there to talk to."

Alistair had to admit that was true. But it wasn't why he was there.

"We talked earlier. She told me what she found. In the Western Approach. She found Venatori… and one of them working with the Wardens. Corypheus sent the false Calling, and one of his magisters is using it against them. They think they're dying but they don't want to leave a world vulnerable to the Blight. So… they're killing their own to raise a demon army to kill the remaining Archdemons. Except the blood magic's binding them to Corypheus instead and he's going to use them to invade Orlais."

Blackwall lowered his tools, staring incredulously at Alistair.

"Maker's balls, Alistair. Are you serious?"

Alistair nodded, lowering his head.

"Afraid so, mate. I'm sorry. I know you must know some of these people."

"Maybe, maybe not," Blackwall said, guarded. "I've been out of the loop for a while. I have no idea who could be out there. But to do this… Maker, Alistair, how could they? The Wardens are heroes! Not… not murderers."

He looked broken by the very idea, hands on the workbench, and while Alistair's heart went out to him, something felt… off. Blackwall was a veteran Warden, wasn't he? Higher ranked than his mother had been when she left. And yet Fiona, while grieved, had seen the connection far quicker and been far less surprised.

It bothered Alistair. It sounded like Blackwall actually believed the Wardens' publicity, and while it wasn't untrue, it wasn't the whole truth. If Alistair had seen the reality of the Wardens in the few short years he'd served, how had Blackwall not done?

He never saw a Blight. He never met Lyra. We were on our own with no higher ups to help us, maybe we were the exceptions.

In death, sacrifice, Alistair. You know this is an inevitable reaction to a world with Blight but no Wardens.

Something was wrong. Alistair didn't know what, but something definitely was. Also, was it him, or was it a bit unlikely for a decorated Warden-Constable to be completely out of the loop? How could a senior Warden have no idea who was serving? Duncan had travelled to recruit too, sometimes taking Alistair, sometimes not… but he'd been in constant contact, checking in regularly, bringing the recruits in for their Joining. And surely Clarel might have wanted Blackwall's assistance, if only to end up using him as a sacrifice.

Alistair hadn't ever really thought about or questioned Blackwall's background before. He'd been too in awe of a famous Warden-Constable to even consider it, too worried he'd be rejected for walking out, and too grateful for the comradeship and friendship that had blossomed instead.

He'd not even stopped to consider all was not as it seemed… but something was off. He just didn't know what. Which meant there wasn't a lot he could do except file all that away and think about it later.

"Wardens do what they must, mate," Alistair said quietly. "You know that. It's the reason Loghain's still breathing. Maker knows I wish that wasn't the case. But we – they – they don't flinch from hard decisions. It's horrible, I know. But… the sad thing is, I can completely believe it."

"It's a desecration," Blackwall said bitterly, shaking his head. "To want to do good, to be good! And to have that turned against you..." He was staring at the griffin, seeming haunted by more than just the Wardens. Alistair felt his heart go out to the man. Despite the doubts nagging at his mind, Alistair could see he was upset.

"We'll stop them," Alistair promised. "Elisif's working on a plan, you'll see."

Blackwall nodded in silence, and then Alistair felt her presence, suddenly flaring in his head moments before she announced herself.

"Hello! I – I thought I saw Alistair here. Is everything all right?"

"Not really, I just finished telling him the bad news," Alistair told her. "Blackwall's not taking it well."

"Inquisitor," Blackwall said, standing upright and to attention as she walked in. "Alistair told me what you found. I can hardly believe it. But you need have no fear about me. I haven't forgotten what being a Warden means. To protect innocents and give your life if needed. If you need me in the battle, you have my blade."

"Fighting other Wardens doesn't bother you?" Elisif asked, surprised.

"Of course it bothers me, but if they've completely forgotten what it means to be a Warden, then I don't have a choice, do I?" Blackwall sighed. "Lady Inquisitor, I swore my service to the Inquisition because my own order didn't seem to be doing anything, and being seen as not doing anything was almost as bad as people thinking we might be involved. Now it turns out we are involved. If the name of the Wardens is to mean anything any more, if we want to salvage anything of our reputation, I have to be there alongside your people. So yes, I'm willing to fight. You trust Alistair here to be able to fight his own, don't you?"

"Alistair's not really been a Warden for years, Blackwall," Elisif said, taking Alistair's hand in hers. "And most of the ones he knew died in the Blight. Apart from Lyra, but we established she's not involved. He's OK with putting a stop to murder, blood magic and demons."

Alistair nodded, deciding not to mention that it turned out his husband knew blood magic. He'd confessed before the wedding, swearing he never used it outside combat and it wasn't his first choice either. He'd gone on to admit all the adult mages in his family knew it too – his sister and his two grown-up daughters. Knowing Eola knew blood magic hadn't surprised Alistair at all. Turned out it wasn't as stigmatised in Tamrielic culture, although human sacrifice and magical mind control were still very much illegal.

After receiving assurances it would never be used on him, and that he'd generally know if it was, and that oddly, Dragonborns might just be immune to the mind control part, but Madanach was unwilling, for obvious reasons, to actually test that, Alistair had thought about it and realised it didn't bother him. Not like it should. Because Madanach made him feel healthier and happier and better about himself, and the Chantry had only ever offered him guilt and shame and loneliness. He knew who he trusted.

"What they're doing is appalling, and I'm happy to help in any way I can," Alistair said firmly. "I'm not quite so sure about Loghain… but he did come and raise the alarm, so I suppose that means he's not going to side with people who'd have happily sacrificed him to the Daedra. Sorry, demons. Oh, you know what I mean, it just sounds better in Tamrielic."

"Lad, you know about a dozen words of the language, and when I asked Maia how well you were doing, she went a bit quiet and scrunched her nose up, which is what she does when she doesn't want to lie but doesn't want to say anything bad about someone she likes either," Blackwall said, finally finding something to be cheerful about, and Elisif couldn't stop a giggle either.

"Hey, I can count all the way up to twelve now, name the colours of the rainbow, introduce myself and tell people my age and who my parents are!" Alistair protested. "And I know the big place names too."

"If I ever need to know how to get to somewhere in Tamriel and what colour its heraldry is, you'll be the first person I ask," Blackwall said dryly. "But never mind that. Happy to fight by your sides when we get to Adamant. You'll need every blade you can get if I'm any judge."

"I imagine we will," Elisif said, sombre. "Thank you, Blackwall. I may need your help before then though. We've spotted darkspawn in the Western Approach – the Venatori fled into the hills after we took Griffon Wing Keep off them, and we think they've disturbed a darkspawn nest somehow, because we didn't see any before we took the keep and now they're a common sight. There's a poison gas field in between us and where they're coming from, but Cullen's engineers think they can deal with that. When they're done… I need the darkspawn sorting out. Would you be willing to help Loghain with them? Eola's volunteered to go, and I'm going to send Cole as well. I want people who can't get the Blight."

Was it Alistair's imagination or did Blackwall look a bit nervous for a second or two… but then he seemed as resolute as ever as he agreed that of course he'd go.

That of course begged another question.

"You're not sending me?" Alistair asked, starting to feel a bit left out. "Thuri, you know I'm a veteran of the Blight. I can do this stuff!"

Elisif's turn to look a bit awkward now.

"I know!" she cried. "But… you and Loghain together… You can't stand the man, Alistair! What if you two end up fighting each other?"

Which was a possibility, but she could give him some credit for putting his own feelings aside, surely?

"I can tolerate him enough to put up with him while we're killing darkspawn!" Alistair protested. "I'm not a child, Elisif."

"No, but you're a man with a sore spot when it comes to him, and I don't put it past him to needle you into reacting," Elisif said, folding her arms, and Alistair was going to be in trouble for this, he could tell… but he didn't care. Punish me then, Thuri. Take me in hand like you know I need, but I'm not staying silent on this.

"Herald, if you need me to break up a fight and make them both behave like the grown men and seasoned darkspawn hunters they are, I'm happy to do that," Blackwall said gruffly, and Alistair decided that, suspicions aside, Blackwall was a good person overall and still his friend. Better him than Loghain anyway. Maybe he was worrying about nothing?

"See, Blackwall'll sort out any trouble," Alistair said confidently. "You don't need to worry! And! Mum's immune to Blight too! If I'm going, she'll want to as well, and then you've got two mages. Three Wardens, two mages, one spirit. Darkspawn won't know what hit them."

Elisif still didn't look convinced, but after thinking it over, she gave in.

"Fine. But I'm speaking to your mother beforehand. I know she's not that bothered about Loghain, but she does care about you and it's not fair on Blackwall to have him be the only one breaking up fights."

"Oh, there won't be any fights," Alistair said confidently. "I promise I'll behave and be no trouble."

"I hope so too," Elisif said, still sceptical. "Well, I think we've taken up enough of Blackwall's time. Thank you, Blackwall. I'll let you know when we're ready."

Alistair, hand still in Elisif's, cheerfully followed her out, mood only fading once they were out of earshot of Blackwall, because the suspicions were still there, persistently nagging at him, and not all the rationalisation could stop it. He followed Elisif past the well, up the back stairs, into the back storage room, suspicion bothering him at every turn and as they passed the hidden library just off the store room, Alistair's willpower finally caved in, and Alistair motioned for Elisif to follow him into said library. Which was occupied by an elven mage and dwarven engineer busily engaged in what definitely wasn't research, but they were quick enough to leave as Alistair coughed and they realised they weren't alone.

"Alistair, you know we have a room, don't you," Elisif said, amused as she perched herself on the desk. "We don't need to grab an alcove for privacy."

"That wasn't why… I just needed to talk to you," Alistair sighed, wondering how to start. "About… about Blackwall."

Elisif indicated for Alistair to sit down, looking concerned.

"What about him? He seemed all right, considering. Why, is there a problem?"

Alistair paused, wondering how to frame this, because Blackwall was a good friend and hadn't done anything wrong… but he couldn't ignore his suspicions either. Right or wrong, he needed to tell Elisif, and if he ended up being wrong, he'd just look like an idiot and owe Blackwall a pint, outcomes he could live with, really.

"I don't know, but something seems… off. What do we know about his past? Really know about him?"

"Not a lot – he was a Warden for years," Elisif said, confused. "A lot of Wardens have murky pasts."

"Because they're often conscripted from prison," Alistair said sombrely. "Come on, you don't think anyone volunteers for that life, do you? You have to give up marriage, a family life, any worldly power or standing, leave your entire previous life behind. I went because I didn't want to be a Templar and because I recognised Duncan and he'd always been kind in the past. And Mum joined because she wanted out of the Circle – most Warden mages join because the Wardens offer freedom of a sort. But happy people with good lives? They're not queueing up to join the Wardens. And outside of a Blight, they largely don't. Most Warden recruiters end up conscripting prisoners. Criminals. People in trouble who need a fresh start. Men on the run. I… am starting to wonder about Blackwall's past. I asked Leliana about him after I joined the Inquisition – he joined the Wardens voluntarily in 9:17. Had a glittering career for two decades then everything seemed to go a bit quiet in 9:35. Most of Leliana's sources seem to think he'd died, or gone on the Calling. But here he is, six years later, having just been travelling alone, and definitely not having his Calling. He says he's been working alone as a solo recruiter in that time, but Duncan did the same job, and he was never out of the loop for long. Blackwall says he's been out of the loop so long he has no idea who's out there, but that just seems really unlikely. And when I told him about the Wardens, his reaction was off. He was really upset… and betrayed. Like he believed the stories and had never seen the reality. But Blackwall served longer and at a higher rank than Mum and I did, and… we're both upset but neither of us are surprised it came to this. As if we knew on some level, but he never did. Does this make any sense?"

Elisif was listening to all this, frowning and feeling sceptical, which was entirely understandable, because Alistair hated the way his thoughts were going… but he couldn't help himself, and when he couldn't help himself, he only had one option. Enlist his Thur, and be told what to do.

"What are you saying, Alistair?" Elisif said, concerned. "I agree it's odd for him to have been so out of contact, but Corypheus has been working with the Wardens for some time. He might have kept his distance for a reason. We can't go making accusations without proof. Come to think of it, you haven't actually said if you're accusing him of anything."

Alistair hesitated, unwilling to admit it even to himself, because there was only one conclusion to be drawn from this train of thought.

"Do you think he might not be a Warden," Alistair said, hating himself even as the words left his lips because of course he was, Blackwall was an honourable warrior and a friend, he wouldn't lie about that. Would he?

"Why wouldn't he be a Warden?" Elisif said, now completely confused. "Why would he lie about that? We know Gordon Blackwall is definitely one of them, Leliana said so."

Alistair really didn't know the answer to that one, but volunteers to the Wardens frequently were running from something. Maybe he was too? He'd mentioned days at court – an Imperial court, so Orlais. Was he a casualty of the Game? He hadn't seemed keen on going to Halamshiral.

"Nor were you," Elisif pointed out. "Or Cassandra. And Liriel burst into tears and begged not to have to go. That doesn't make him a criminal or a liar."

"I know," Alistair said softly. "And given the way he joined us… there's no way he could have known he'd run into the Herald of Andraste's very lost husband and family when he did. I think he really did want to help. And he did save Maia, didn't he?"

He had indeed. All accounts agreed Blackwall had leapt in from out of nowhere, saved Maia from a Templar and there'd been nothing since to indicate he was anything other than Warden Blackwall, protector of the innocent. Nothing except Alistair's suspicions that even he wasn't sure were real.

Except Elisif was staring at one of the shelves, at a particular book that had caught her eye.

"Alistair," she said softly. "Get that book down for me, could you?"

It was on the top shelf and a stretch even for her. At six foot two, Alistair managed it without too much trouble.

"Might and Melee: A Concise History of the Grand Tourney in the Dragon Age," Alistair read. "Elisif, why..."

"Blackwall said he won it once, with the help of an Orlesian chevalier who offered to mentor him," Elisif said, getting up and taking the actual seat, the book going on the table while she leafed through it. Alistair settled himself on the floor next to her, content to wait while she did her research. "He says he was a young man at the time. That can't have happened that often. This must have the stories of who won it and how. We find a year where that matches, we'll know about Blackwall."

"Well, Bethany reckoned he was in his early forties when I asked her, so don't bother with the early years," Alistair said. "Start around 9:10."

Elisif said nothing as she ruffled through the pages, frowning at the text.

"Nothing on anyone called Gordon Blackwall ever winning this thing," Elisif said, pursing her lips. "And all the winners prior to 9:17 are either now dead or they went on to achieve great things and have settled down into roles we can definitely verify. No one went on to join the Wardens either."

Alistair felt a chill run down his spine.

"Elisif, if none of them are him… he wouldn't have competed in the Tourney after the Joining, Wardens have got better things to do with our time. We're not meant to seek worldly recognition."

Which meant he'd lied about something. Alistair almost hoped it was about the Tourney, even if that did mean he'd have to beat him up for lying to Elisif.

Elisif had returned to the book, moving on to later years, fingers actually shaking a little… and then her hand reached instinctively for Alistair, fingers running through his hair for comfort.

"What did you find?" Alistair whispered, knowing it was nothing good.

"Grand Tourney of 9:24," Elisif gasped. "The story matches. Won by a Free Marcher from Markham called Thom Rainier. He teamed up with an Orlesian chevalier called Sir Geoffroy de Bordelon, who let him take the victory. Bordelon died in 9:30. Rainier… says he went on to join the Orlesian army two years after his victory and rose to the rank of captain, serving loyally for nine years, until the events of the Callier massacre revealed his honour was more apparent than real. Says it was a sad end to a promising career. The Callier massacre?"

Alistair said nothing, feeling his heart sink as reality hit home. Mara's mercy. He'd heard that story. He'd still been living in Kirkwall at the time. It had been the talk of the Hanged Man, and actually made Alistair feel better about himself, knowing there was a bigger bastard than him out there.

"Thom fucking Rainier is Blackwall?" Alistair whispered.

"Who?" Elisif cried. "Who is that, Alistair? I never heard of the Callier massacre, I was on another continent giving birth!"

Alistair didn't remember all the details either, but he remembered enough.

"Lord Callier was one of Celene's allies," Alistair said, dredging up long-forgotten memories. "The civil war was brewing even then, and a noble who favoured Gaspard decided getting rid of one of Celene's supporters would be a great way to curry favour, and if he'd hired bards, it probably would have worked. But he didn't, he paid a group of Orlesian soldiers led by a Free Marcher ex-mercenary to do it instead. Spring of 9:35, Callier's travelling to his summer home when they ambush him and kill the entire caravan. Rainier and his men left no one alive, so they say."

"So who knew it was them then," Elisif asked.

"Bards are discreet. Soldiers who've recently been paid over their usual wages, not so much," Alistair sighed. "Word got out. The soldiers didn't know who or why they were attacking, they just believed their captain's orders that this person was an enemy of Orlais and needed killing. Apparently the fact Callier was travelling with his wife and four kids, all under thirteen, didn't trigger any fucking alarm bells."

Elisif had put her hands to her face and sobbed. Alistair felt her pain and looked up to see tears on her face and cursed himself for not remembering that child death really bothered her. It bothered him too, of course, but not quite as viscerally as it did her. Not for deaths he'd not witnessed or had to clear up, involving people he didn't know. But Elisif had given birth to and nursed a baby of her own, and had always been extremely sentimental about babies anyway. Hearing someone she'd considered a friend was in fact a wanted war criminal who'd ordered children murdered… of course she'd be upset.

"Oh no, love, please don't cry," Alistair whispered, mortified as he dragged himself to his feet and took her in his arms, holding her and trying to comfort her as best he could. For the next few minutes, they stood there… and then Madanach's presence flared in their heads as the library door opened.

"Elisif?" Madanach called from the door. "Are you all right?"

Elisif shook her head.

"Nyet! Blackwall ligat dan uns! El slachten vevies, Madanach!"

Must be bad if she'd gone into Tamrielic without realising. No, Blackwall something to, of or about us, he somethinged something, Madanach. And Madanach seemed about as comprehending of that as Alistair was. But he stepped forward, entered the room, took Elisif into his arms and held her, frowning as he stared at the Grand Tourney book.

"Alistair, what happened?" Madanach said, confused. "What's this about Blackwall murdering kids?" He glanced at the Grand Tourney entry. "I don't even see his name here, and this dates to after he joined the Wardens anyway, surely?"

"The real Blackwall was a Warden by then, yes," Alistair said bitterly. "The man currently living in Skyhold claiming to be him is a murderer called Thom Rainier who took money to kill an Orlesian noble over politics, and ended up killing his wife and four young kids as well. He's a wanted man in Orlais, has been for years. And I don't think he's a real Warden either."

Madanach didn't even say anything, mouth just opening but nothing coming out. He turned to Elisif, shocked.

"He's really not…?"

"Blackwall told me this story about how he won the Grand Tourney as a young man with the help of a chevalier who offered to mentor him, and he said no, and now regrets it," Elisif said, wiping tears away. "He said we are who we choose to follow and he regretted not following him… but he thinks he's on the right path now. Right path…!" She shoved the book at Madanach. "The only Tourney entrant whose story matches that is Thom Rainier, who it turns out is a wanted criminal. Warden Blackwall's probably been dead for years."

"And with all the Wardens gone, we'd have no one to verify that," Madanach whispered, looking horrified. "Daedra, Elisif. I looked into that man's eyes, drank his beer, took his hospitality our first night in Thedas – he saved Maia's life. If either of you think I'm exaggerating, I'm not, she was a hair's breadth from being gutted by a Templar, and he bashed the man to the ground and killed him, gave her time to get to cover. She's loved him ever since. And you're telling me he… look, are you sure? We need proof of all this!"

"We take him into custody, contact the Orlesians, get them to send someone who can identify Rainier in the flesh, we'll have our answer," Alistair said grimly. "And there's another way too. A real Warden would have Blight in their veins, like me. My Blight-sense is a bit wonky because of the anti-Calling amulet Mum made me, but if I took it off… we could put me near the red lyrium samples or Eola's work room to check it's all working, or even Loghain, I suppose, and then put me next to Blackwall. It'd be enough to prove he's no Warden. Him having lied to us about who he really was is enough to arrest him. And Eola's got Blight detection spells too, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, she has," Madanach said thoughtfully. "She'd be able to tell. I don't suppose she can have used them near Blackwall – don't suppose she'd have had any reason to. He did say no to donating blood for her experiments though. Didn't think anything of it at the time. I just thought he didn't approve of her magic. I didn't think he was hiding something like this!"

None of them had, that was the hardest thing of all. And if not for Alistair telling Elisif of his feelings, and Elisif by sheer chance seeing that book on the shelves, they'd still never know.

"I don't suppose the real Warden Blackwall was anywhere near the Fereldan Blight either," Madanach added, not really expecting any other answer than no to this one.

"No, he was in Orlais with the others, Loghain saw to that," Alistair said bitterly. "He closed the borders and banned the Orlesian Wardens from coming in. Blackwall wouldn't have been able to get into the country, and would have had to keep a low profile if he had. Let me guess, did he tell you he'd killed a load of darkspawn during the Blight?"

"Yes, and that you'd moved around too much to keep up with so he never found you – fucking Daedra, Alistair!"

Madanach had his hands on the desk, head lowered and visibly shaking… and Alistair could feel Madanach's anger like his own… and the disappointment and upset lurking beneath.

My husband trusted you. We all trusted you! Maker, how many times have you and I sat in the pub together…

Alistair left Elisif's side and went to his husband, arm round his shoulder, and Madanach glanced up, anger fading a little, and then he was cuddling Alistair, and who was comforting who, Alistair wasn't even sure.

"So what now?" Alistair asked Elisif, hating to put this on his already overworked Thur, but it had to be her really. "We have to do something."

"I know," Elisif sighed. "We'll do what you suggested, check your Blight-sense and then go and see if Blackwall's got any Blight in his veins. And if that's negative, we arrest him and question him."

"And if he is Rainier?" Alistair asked. Elisif was sitting back in the chair, looking like she was about to cry again.

"I don't even know!" Elisif cried. "I suppose the Orlesians will want him and in all honesty, that's what should be happening but… hang it all, it's not like we don't need him. And he's one of the best warriors we have! Ugh, why couldn't we have found out a month from now, we'd have taken Adamant and might not need him. We can't even send him on the darkspawn mission either if he's not actually a Warden."

"Oh, don't worry about that, we'll manage witho-" Alistair began, but then Madanach interrupted.

"Can't we."

Elisif sat up, alarmed, and Alistair turned to stare at his husband, who couldn't possibly have just suggested that they knowingly send a Blight-vulnerable man up against darkspawn.

"Madanach, we really can't, he might get the Blight!" Elisif protested.

"He's fought them before, we had to deal with darkspawn first day we were here, Blackwall himself was adamant we couldn't just leave them," Madanach growled. "The lying fucking bastard had me risk my life, Eola's, Cicero's, Liriel's, fighting those things because it was his duty as a Warden. He fought one up close and survived. So yeah, he can do it again. Make it his penance. Trial by combat. He wants to be a Warden? He can fight like one and risk dying like one. He lives and doesn't catch the Blight? The gods are merciful. He dies or we have to put him down? The gods can judge him. Come on, Elisif, when this gets out, and it will, the Orlesians will want Rainier's head. The only option we have is persuading them to let us carry out punishment instead, and for that to happen we need to be seen as punishing him. Making him face the Blight would work. If he lives, you can pardon him if you like. Or make him join the Wardens for real if there's anything left to join."

Alistair flinched to hear it, because that was a brutal punishment. He was so used to Madanach fussing over him and looking after him, and generally lavishing him with love and affection, it was always a bit of a shock to see his more ruthless side. But he'd heard other stories from Borkul and Cicero and Liriel, stories which told of the Tamrielic Kyning en Raeggen being a ruthless figure out of nightmare, and the Varsvarnen being the worst kind of vicious maleficarum, with their Brer-Hechtos warriors who were like some kind of hybrid of berserker warriors and Tranquil with magic, and the Hagga-Ravin abominations that led their armies.

The sort of man who'd feel justified in building that army to carve his way to freedom was the same sort of man who'd react to betrayal by ordering a man to face death by darkspawn and not lose a lot of sleep over it. Alistair, if he was any kind of moral human being, should be shoving Madanach away and calling this monstrous.

But he wasn't. He was mostly remembering Blackwall commiserating with him over Duncan and remembering him as a good man, and feeling sick as he realised Thom Rainier likely never even met him.

He didn't even realise he'd started crying until Madanach reacted and put his arms round his neck, rubbing his back and sending soothing thoughts down the bond.

"I'm sorry," Alistair wept. "I just… thought he was my friend. He said he knew Duncan!"

Matching anger-sadness from both his spouses, and then Elisif spoke up loud and clear.

"Trial by combat it is, then. I'm all for redemption and forgiveness, but that man's systematically lied to all of us! He killed babies and… and he made Alistair cry."

Elisif sounded almost as upset over that last part of it as she did about the child death, and Alistair wanted to tell her not to be, he wasn't worth it… but a big part of him liked that she cared.

He heard her get up and then she was there, all three of them hugging each other, Alistair feeling his spouses in his arms, and despite the misery and betrayal and wishing, dearly wishing, he'd not been right, at least he wasn't alone.

First, Eola's workroom, which Alistair normally avoided, and which had been shut up since she'd left with Elisif. And Alistair hadn't even taken the amulet off before he realised he could feel his skin crawling already.

"Fifteen darkspawn at ten o'clock," he whispered, because while the feeling was faint, it was still there. His Blight-sense worked just fine, and he had to stop there, because Blackwall had never triggered it at all, and all this time he'd thought his Blight-sense wasn't working. But no. It was Blackwall – Rainier all along.

Elisif just placed a hand on his back and led him away, to Dagna's red lyrium stores, and again he could feel the prickling of the Blight. Faint, but there.

And then to the tavern, and Madanach was there, Alistair could feel him, just hidden away so as not to arouse Rainier's suspicions. They'd decided the task of breaking all this to Maia could wait and didn't want to risk her witnessing all this, so they'd acted normal, put her to bed, and it was now evening. Madanach had gone to check on Blackwall's whereabouts, seen him having drinks in the tavern with Bethany, and gone to get Cullen to round up some guards while Elisif and Alistair went to calibrate his Blight-sense.

Oddly, it was still tingling… but the source was upstairs, and a quick trip up there revealed Loghain and Dorian holding hands over dinner.

Alistair beat a hasty retreat, but it was enough to confirm he could sense other Wardens still. Which just left Blackwall, sitting over there, cheerfully raising a tankard at Alistair, all the while Alistair sensed absolutely nothing from him.

"Alistair! Everything all ri-"

Alistair strode over, grabbed Blackwall by the tunic, dragged him out of his seat, heedless of Bethany's cries, and hit him, hard.

Blackwall was a warrior used to taking punishment but Alistair, despite the self-deprecation and easy smile and general affability that generally made people underestimate him and think he was harmless, was a far better fighter than people sometimes gave him credit for, and Blackwall fell to the floor, unprepared for the blow. He'd barely recovered before Alistair was going for him again, furious at being deceived for so goddamn long… but Bethany was screaming at him to stop, the tavern was on its feet, a dispel spell was getting rid of the illusions hiding Madanach and the arrest party… and Elisif was there, hand on Alistair's chest, shouting his name. The red mist receded, and Alistair stepped back, seething.

"He's no Warden," Alistair snapped, glaring furiously at Blackwall, who had started to stagger to his feet… and then heard his words, and to everyone's surprise, the fight seemed to go out of him.

"So you know," was all Blackwall said, sounding defeated already. "What tipped you off?"

"Your Grand Tourney story only matches one melee winner in the entire Dragon Age," Elisif said, carefully pulling Alistair back. "Thom Rainier. You're under arrest for murder, child murder, accepting money to murder, evading arrest, falsely claiming to be a Warden, and identity theft. Anything you want to say?"

Blackwall said nothing, holding out his hands as two Inquisition guards shackled his wrists and hauled him to his feet. He met no one's eyes, not Alistair's, Elisif's, Madanach's, not Cullen's disgusted expression, not even Bethany as she pleaded to know what was going on.

"Gordon, please, tell them they've got the wrong man!" Bethany cried. "Tell them you're a Warden, you wouldn't do that, please!"

Blackwall hesitated, shoulders hunching up and he still couldn't look at Bethany… but he did answer.

"I didn't kill Warden Blackwall. I traded his death. He'd recruited me for the Wardens but died before he could complete my Joining. Darkspawn ambushed us and killed him. I survived, I don't know how. I was afraid to find the Wardens in case they thought I'd killed him… but I was in Ferelden and no one knew who I was there, so I took his identity and started travelling, pretending to be a better man. My real name is Thom Rainier, and I'm guilty as charged."

Bethany was sinking back into her seat, shaking her head then her entire face scrunched up as she began to cry, sobbing her heart out as her entire relationship collapsed out from under her.

"Get him out of here," Cullen snapped, and Blackwall didn't resist as the guards hauled him off to the cells. Alistair gritted his teeth and glared at his back as the man who was not Blackwall was led away… and then in the silence that followed, he became very aware of Bethany sobbing.

"Mate, are you all right?" Alistair whispered, holding out a hand to her… and Bethany shoved it away and fled the tavern, crying even harder, and leaving Alistair feeling even worse.

"Oh," Alistair whispered, heartbroken as he realised he'd lost not one friend but two tonight. Then his spouses were there, one on each side of him, cuddling him.

"She's upset and lashing out, don't blame yourself," Madanach said softly. "It is not your fault Rainier is a lying arsehole, and it would have been worse to find out the truth and not tell her. And yes, Elisif, we did the right thing."

Soft laughter from Elisif, who'd been wondering that very thing.

"I suppose if we're trying to be the role models for honour and doing good in the world, we can't sweep things like this under the rug," Elisif said softly. "I just wish it didn't hurt. Poor Bethany was devastated, look at her. Cullen, can you track down Varric or Leliana or Hawke. She needs a friend she can trust right now."

"Will do, Inquisitor," Cullen said, and then he turned to look at her directly, sympathy in his eyes. "Are you all right? Do you need anything? Any of you?" And here he even looked sympathetically at Alistair, which was just weird.

"Someone to break the news to Maia, but I can't delegate that," Elisif sighed. "We'll be fine for tonight, thank you. But can you send word to Leliana to get together a dossier with everything she has on both Rainier and the real Blackwall, and get it to the war room for me in the morning. Madanach and I are going to need background information before we question him tomorrow."

Cullen nodded and dispatched one of the remaining guards to go find Sister Nightingale, before taking his own leave, pausing only to pat Alistair awkwardly on the shoulder before departing.

"You know it's bad when even Cullen's feeling sorry for you," Alistair quipped in the awkward silence that followed.

"It is bad," Madanach said quietly, drawing closer, arm over Alistair's shoulder, and Elisif moved to his other side, arms going round his waist.

"We all sleep together tonight," Elisif whispered. "None of us should be alone after this. And… we all tell Maia in the morning. Together."

Alistair felt his heart sink yet further as he realised what that was going to do to her, and then again as he realised Suzette and Lucy had started to see him as a father figure too.

How many lives were going to be absolutely wrecked by one man's lies before this was all done. Alistair didn't know, but he knew this was probably only going to get worse.

A/N: See, in the game, there's a definite playing down of Blackwall's crimes and constantly focusing on finding a way to get your tank back rather than the after-effects, and even if he romanced you, that only affects you, and you're the one deciding his fate in the end. It's a lot different writing it, especially when Elisif reads him his rap sheet, and then you see it written down explicitly, all together and you're like 'when you put it like that, it's really really bad, isn't it?' Oh and here, there's kids involved, and poor Bethany whose life has been hard enough. I may have cried a little the first time I wrote her reaction. Poor woman.

Notes on the Tamrielic - Elisif is saying 'No! Blackwall's lied to us! He's killed children, Madanach!'

Kyning en Raeggen, Varsvarnen, Brer-Hechtos, Hagga-Ravin - King in Rags, Forsworn, Briarheart, Hagraven, but you probably figured that out.

Next up, the fallout, in which I have to put Bethany back together, break the news to Maia, Blackwall's interrogation if there's space - the amount of trouble this man has caused, I stg...