A/N: I confess, I have not yet read Tevinter Nights, but I reeeeeally want to. There is mention of events that occur in the books, which I have borrowed shamelessly from a wiki page…not much, but it's there. If anyone has read the books, forgive me ahead of time if I missed an important point. Enjoy!

Hard Up in Hightown

Inara leaned back in her window-side seat in Dorian's library, savoring her coffee. Feynriel had announced that their next meeting would not be until tomorrow night, so she indulged in an extra cup of the strong brew. Following the magister's return from upper house's morning session, the friends had confined themselves to the back of the now familiar mansion.

The woman had been allowing her mind to wander as she watched the streets of Perivantium beyond the balcony, but her ears caught Dorian's groan of the boorish tendencies of one of his fellows.

"Dorian, is there any news of further progress on the matters of the Orbs or Fen'Harel or…anything related?"

The gentleman sighed, brushing his hair back while Leliana left for a moment to fetch a report from her quarters.

"I'm afraid today was taken up by the question of whether to hold a vote to reconvene the Publicanium…that, and a property dispute between two of our own. We also touched on what measures to take next with the rebellion." He shrugged apologetically. "The magisters are not known for their swift decisions where politics are concerned."

"But this isn't truly politics. Not when all we're asking for is a little help stemming the end of the known world."

"Oh yes, it is!" he exclaimed with a wild gesture, his voice oozing with sarcasm. "We must consider what other parties may gain an advantage, should we openly display our capabilities. There's the possibility of expanding our own power as a condition, or somehow gaining the loyalty of other countries or even the Dread Wolf himself! And that's not even taking into consideration the Foci!"

"I can't imagine living like that," Inara hummed, massaging her temple. "How have you survived?"

"You." The elf found herself speechless, but Dorian only held up the sending stone that hung around his neck. "In my darkest hours, when I was ready to despair and run away with my tail between my legs, your voice was often my only consolation. I thought, if Inara can lead an entire Inquisition without even showing a sliver of weakness – if she could have the courage to take on the Qun, the magisters, and the man she loves without missing a step – then I can manage with my lot."

"I hardly deserve such kind words, Dorian," she returned softly as Leliana reclaimed her couch, "but the feeling is quite mutual. If not for you, Leliana, and the others, I'm sure I would be completely lost."

The Spymaster barked a laugh, enthralled in her most recent report.

"Hardly, my dear."

The archer's expression suddenly darkened, earning the full attention of both companions.

"Is everything all right?" ventured the Inquisitor.

"It's a missive from one of my spies."

"Charter?"

Leliana nodded, her face continuing to twist with pain.

"She called an assembly of the best spies of Thedas to exchange information regarding Fen'Harel's plans. Last I heard, she was meeting with four others in Hunter Fell at The Teahouse tavern. Apparently, Solas was targeting Varric's red lyrium idol…and it has apparently fallen into his hands."

Taking a steadying breath, Inara continued to watch her friend carefully.

"That is obviously not good news; it confirms that he is utilizing red lyrium in some capacity. But…that is not what has you concerned. There's more."

The Spymaster worked her jaw angrily for a moment.

"Three of the spies had starkly different stories of the idol's whereabouts. While they argued, Charter realized that the fourth man was in fact Solas in disguise. He killed the others with a mere touch, but spared Charter. He…" Leliana gritted her teeth, clearly fighting her urge to kill the Dread Wolf in his sleep. "He asked her to 'apologize to the Inquisitor' when offering her report."

Inara didn't respond to this revelation, and the silence that pervaded the room indicated her companions felt the same. There was no way to respond. She knew since their last encounter that Solas intended to do whatever he saw as necessary and kill whoever stood in his way. In theory, she knew he could be ruthless, calculating, and lethal, but this was the first time one of her own had nearly become a casualty in his war…that she knew of. The news didn't quell her determination to find Solas, but it did make her uneasy when considering their next encounter. By the time she found him, would there be anything left of her Solas?

"Leliana," the elf stirred, forcing herself to sip her coffee, "please send word to our spies, scouts, everyone in the field. Tell them to conduct their activities with exceptional caution from now on. Fen'Harel knows we are onto him." Leliana opened her mouth, but Inara beat her to it. "I am aware they all signed on knowing they could lose their lives in this effort. But I will not lose more lives out of simple carelessness. I'm only glad that Charter is safe."

The other woman snapped her mouth shut, her shoulders relaxing somewhat.

"Very well. This does explain why Dagna sent this with Charter's letter." At that, she set a familiar-looking rune on the table, the same rune the Inquisitor had used to nullify Samson's armor in the Temple of Mythal. Inara rose to retrieve the glowing stone, balancing it in her palm and praying that she would not have need of it against Solas. She had seen a future filled with red lyrium. They had fought endlessly to crush it from existence, but the tainted rock just wouldn't die. "How is your training with Feynriel progressing?"

Inara blinked in surprise at the question and returned to her chair, considering how dull the colors of the physical realm had begun to appear. Solas would have laughed at that, himself being so enthralled with the Dream world.

"It may simply be that Feynriel's guidance is aiding my abilities, but…it's easier to dream of him here. When I see Solas as part of my visions, he appears to be much more real than before. Even more so than in Skyhold."

"We know he wasn't in Nevarra, and you dreamed of him less there," Leliana considered, folding her arms. "But we do suspect he was near Skyhold, when he was also more prominent in your dreams. And now…" She sniffed in distaste, turning to fuss with her stack of papers. "I'm adding three more guards to accompany you while we are in Tevinter."

"Did we not decide he wouldn't be sending assassins? And we have no proof that he is anywhere near here. I don't think I'm in any danger, at the moment."

"We are not taking any chances. You're our best hope of resolving this mess with relative peace." The other female shot her a glare, indicating that the matter was closed. "And when Solas asked Charter to apologize, was it for her companions' deaths or perhaps your near assassination? The timing is a little to convenient for my taste, and we know that he is willing to get his hands dirty. On second thought, I am doubling your guard detail." She paused, brow furrowed. "Are you all right?"

Inara had shut her eyes, picturing her hands in the Fade. Two whole, intact, strong, delicate hands. The brightness, the beauty, and the breadth of it all…

"What if he succeeds? Would it be…the worst thing?" Dorian looked up from his book with a raised eyebrow and she shrugged. "I'm not saying that I'm giving up, but if he succeeds, we will need to make the best of it. We must consider all possibilities."

"And speaking of people who can make the best of things," Dorian cleared his throat, nodding to the letter she had been unconsciously fiddling with. He was dying to turn the subject to something - anything! - other than their impending doom. "Is that the letter from Varric that came by raven this morning?"

"I'm afraid his news isn't much better," the elf sighed, handing over the note before resting her forehead tiredly on the table. The depressing updates of the real world made her long for her expanding Dreams, despite the coffee. Their gathering had begun jovial enough, but it had promptly devolved into a seemingly never-ending wave of bad omens. "More elves disappearing."

Undeterred, the man kicked back with the letter and began reading:

Long time no see, Your Inquisitorialness.

Sorry to hear about your losses on the road, but word's spread that you're hot on Chuckles' trail. One drunk claimed that you had the god surrounded over a fortnight ago and that he barely escaped with his pride intact! I, of course, had nothing to do with it; the rumors I start are far more entertaining.

Speaking of stories, I'm just about ready to start on my next book; I'm hoping you found the time to read my last one on the Inquisition – quite the bestseller in Rivain, I hear. Thought I'd dabble more in the romance genre this time. I figured our stabby Seeker friend could use a good saucy distraction from the Chantry, and the adventures I had with you gave me plenty of material. Naturally, it has the usual adventures, drama, and raunchy bits that would make even Sparkler blush, but this one…this one's special. I'll send you the first chapter in a few weeks, if my adviser will get off my case about raising docking fees.

Andraste's flaming knickers, I didn't start this just to talk about that damned book…

You told me to just ask if I ever needed anything and…well, I need your help. There, I said it. You mentioned the elves disappearing, and I can confirm that it's happening here too, though I have no idea of their whereabouts. The alienage is practically a ghost town, but there's one kid in particular that I'm hoping you might keep an ear out for. You might remember me telling you about Daisy – well, Merrill.

I should've known when she started talking about hearing voices that something was up, but I just thought it was Daisy being Daisy. "The voice was just so pretty," she said, along with some Dalish stuff that I never could quite put my finger on. When she described the voice though, it… It reminded me of the night after you disbanded the Inquisition. You, me, and Tiny holed ourselves up with a crate of booze to toast the end of an age. Ha! You managed to get yourself as drunk as a skunk and started going on about Chuckles and his "intoxicating" voice. Sorry. Probably not what you need hear right now. I included a sketch of Merrill, just in case. I know it's a longshot, but I sort of feel responsible for her ever since…well, you know the story.

If you happen to also hear of a former slave called Orana, she's from Kirkwall too. Hawke kept her on as a servant, and I made sure she still had a place at the Champion's estate in Hightown – kept the house open and asked Aveline to send an occasional patrol through. Daisy usually checks on the girl, but after the star-struck elf up and chased her voices, I went personally. Orana's gone without a trace, and I would bet my great-grannie's gold teeth that she went after this "call" too. It's getting creepy.

Also heard a rumor of the supposed "champion" of the Solasans. I have a theory, but I'll wait until I know more. Sorry I didn't have better news. The Hanged Man has a new ale on tap and the sky hasn't fallen yet, so that's something.

Stay safe, Gingersnap, and stay in touch.

Varric T.

Inara kept her face planted on the table as Dorian finished reading and folded the letter.

"Leave it to that dwarf to tease that he's writing a new book and not tell us what it's about," the mage scoffed.

"He is right though," Leliana yawned. "The sky hasn't fallen yet."

The magister frowned between the two brooding women before throwing his hands up in the air and pulling Inara to her feet.

"Inquisitor," he announced, "I have a request – no! – a demand. All this doom and plotting and sulking isn't doing anyone any good. You know perfectly well that you can't save the world when your mental state is akin to an indentured Qunari. I require an adventure, perhaps paired with latest brew from the tavern down the street. You too, Leliana. I will not tolerate my guests having such a loathsome time under my own roof!"

I figured it was time for a lighter chapter. Coming up next!