The moss under his feet is dotted with tiny white flowers that he has seen somewhere before. He keeps walking, trying not to step on the flowers but there's so many of them, they seem to spread wider and more densely with every step he takes. There's a tree in the distance, a vhenadahl, he knows that, even though it doesn't look like the vhenadahl in Kirkwall. This tree is taller than anything he has ever seen, stretching to the sky with thin, spindly branches. He strains his neck to see where it ends but the sky is a sea of waves rolling between floating islands.

"There you are."

Carver turns around to see Merrill, smiling at him. She stands on a gnarly root, balancing along it as she climbs down, flowers growing wherever she steps. She wears just a white shift of transparent fabric, flowing gently around her in a wind.

"I was wondering if you can still come here," Merrill says. She hops down from the root and walks towards him, patches of orange flowers growing in the indents that her feet leave in the moss.

"This is the Fade," Carver says, dumbly stating the obvious.

"I tried calling you here before but it never worked." Merrill takes his hand and leads him to a little stream of water, trickling out of a flower.

"So this is your dream again?" He looks down on himself; he wears the same kind of shift as Merrill wears and it doesn't look half as pretty on him as it looks on her. "I'm not naked though."

Merrill laughs out, the sound carrying into the space around them like ringing bells. "There's still a bit from you in the dream and I guess you don't want to be naked."

"Maybe because Bethany once stole my clothes after we bathed in the river and I had to run home naked through all of Lothering."

Merrill laughs again and kneels down next to the small source of water. She lets the water run over her hand and watches as it disappears into the ground. Carver kneels down next to her and holds out his hand too. The water feels warm, uncomfortably so, like warm blood. As he watches, the color of it changes to red and he janks his and Merrill's hand away.

"What is this here?"

Merrill looks around. "Someone is trying to show us something. They don't know how though. But they're trying, look." She points over her shoulder to where they came from.

Carver follows her line of sight. The orange flowers that Merill had left with every step, transform into red crystals. They push out of the ground, larger than a man is tall.

"Is that red lyrium?"

A voice comes from the water. "Yes."

Carver's head snaps back around. A knife sticks in the ground where the trickle of water disappears. It looks like glass and it shifts in and out of existence as he looks at it. The voice comes from that knife, it vibrates with every word.

"Poisoned power, but old, a threat from other times."

"Who are you?" Carver asks.

"I want to help."

"Thank you," Merrill says. "What do you want to help us with?"

"The red poison, it's everywhere. You have to find it."

"But who —" Carver tries but Merrill interrupts him with a touch on his arm.

"Don't ask him who he is, he doesn't know."

"How...?" Carver looks at Merrill and then back to the vibrating knife. "But what is it?"

"I think it's spirit but unlike any other spirits I've met."

"Are you sure?" Carver asks. "Cause the spirits I've heard about were always eager to say who they are, 'I am Fear, I am Wisdom, I am Justice!', that sort of thing."

Merrill chuckles at that. "You'll have to tell me one day how you met all these spirits."

Carver shrugs. "Growing up in an apostate mage household, I guess. Bethy liked to play with spirits, is that bad?"

Merrill lays her head to the side. "Well, I bound a demon once, so I can't really judge."

"Right." Carver gets up and shouts into the emptiness around them. "Show yourself!"

The knife in the ground blinks out of existence and appears again, larger than before but still transparent. "Don't be so loud, you'll wake the wolf," the voice says with a forced whisper.

Carver lowers his voice as he curses. "Maker's fart, this is all too weird."

Merrill gets up and points to the closest giant red crystal. "You wanted to show us this, what do you want us to do?"

"The blood, the poisoned blood, you have to find it. It's sick."

"Fucking void," Carver mumbles under his breath. "And then what?" he asks the knife.

"I will find you. I'll help."

A drone sounds, ripples spreading over the waves in the sky, causing the floating islands to crash into each other. Pieces tear off the world, sections of ground and moss breaking away and floating towards the sky.

"You have to go," the knife says. It vibrates faster, flashing brightly, and shatters.

Merrill turns to Carver, her mouth open to speak but the drone sounds out again and her eyes roll back and she sinks to the ground. Carver runs to her but the world tips over and he falls, flowers and hedges rushing past him, islands crashing against each other, narrowly missing him.

"Who are you?" The voice is deep, it scratches at his bones and he knows it from somewhere. "How dare you!"

Carver turns to look around, an island slams into him, everything goes black and —

Air rushes into his lungs, barely fast enough for his yell breaking free. "Merrill!"

He sits up on his mat and searches blindly with his hands for her next to him. Her body is soft and warm and he sighs in relief as she moves, probably woken from his insistent poking.

A small ball of light floats up to the top beam of the tent, giving enough light for Carver to see that Merrill is unhurt.

"Thank the Maker," he huffs and falls back on his pillow. "You fell and I..."

"Oh," Merrill says. "I'm sorry. The knife spirit ended that dream rather abruptly." She lays her head on his chest and snuggles tightly against him. "Next time, we'll make our own dream again."

"There was another voice."

"I didn't hear that."

"I think it was the same voice I heard when the temple exploded. But..." he shakes the uneasy feeling of familiarity off and pulls Merrill up to him. "So that... that knife spirit, he wants me to search for red lyrium? Should I listen to him?"

"He called it blood. Is red lyrium blood?" Merrill mumbles thoughtfully. "We know so little about lyrium, the dwarves don't even talk much about the blue kind. Have you noticed that rifts form close to lyrium, now that it pokes out of the ground?"

"Not at first, no. But the last few rifts..."

"The keeper used to say that all lyrium sings together, under all forests."

Carver pulls her closer. "That sounds so much nicer than 'lyrium will rot your mind one day'." He can feel the hunger pulling at him already, his last dose had been too long ago.

Merrill looks up, her face serious. "That worries me."

"Me too. I want to get off it but..."

"When we're back in Haven, I think I can help you with that."

"How?"

Merrill turns away and her ears turn red. "I can cleanse your blood, remove all traces of the substance."

It takes Carver a few seconds to realize what she said. "That's bloodmagic."

"Yes," Merrill says and she doesn't even pretend to be ashamed about it. "You'll still have withdrawals but it will be over much faster because you don't have to wait for your body to clean out the poison. I could even put you to sleep for the worst of it."

Carver looks at her. "Cassandra is going to throw a fit when she finds out."

Merrill sits up and frowns at him. "That's what you're worried about? Not the bloodmagic, just that Cassandra is going to freak out?"

Carver smiles at her. "You're my girl, I trust you. If I can't trust you with your magic, what would we even be?"

Merrill gasps in a joyful cry and throws herself onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kisses him. Carver takes her head in his hands and uses his thumb to wipe away a tear from her eye.

Merrill releases his lips, after having thoroughly devoured him and smiles at him. "Ar lath ma, vhenan."

Carver's heart jumps so hard in his chest, he is convinced that Merrill can feel it beating. "Ma vhenan, and I love you too."

Merrill kisses him again and for a while, their bodies take over, following the age old dance of love and desire. They muffle their cries and groans with kisses until the magic light in the tent winks out and they fall asleep, happily exhausted.

The sun wakes Carver up and immediately, the addiction makes itself known in his gut, gnawing at his insides. He's burning up, his skin pulling tight and his stomach boiling in acid. Blindly he fishes around for his breeches, pulling the templar vial out of its pocket and downs the lyrium dose.

He groans as the headache he didn't even notice before, disappears and the rush of the lyrium fills him, soothing his aches and pains. He breathes through the false feeling of power and lust, burying his nose in Merrill's hair to ground himself.

After a while, he starts to feel normal again and when Merrill stretches with a happy yawn, he feels enough like himself that he can kiss her head.

"Good morning, vhenan," Merrill mumbles. She looks up to him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Lyrium."

Merrill narrows her eyes, studying his expression. "You took your dose?"

"Yeah, I couldn't wait anymore."

"It's alright, it won't be much longer now," she says, stroking over his hair. "We'll be in Haven soon."

Carver holds Merrill in his arms, unwilling to get up and out there to be the Herald again. "Something you said, about the lyrium singing under every forest.."

Merrill stretches again, turning so that her head lies on his stomach and she can look at him. "Yes? What about it?"

"Does that mean the lyrium is everywhere, not just in the mines, and it's all connected?"

"I don't know. Our stories are fractured and the dwarves keep their secrets."

"If it's all connected, in the ground all over Thedas, and now it comes to the surface, and then..." Carver wants to stop his chain of thoughts but it keeps clicking into place, one by one. "What if all of the lyrium is connected and then gets infected? What if all the blue lyrium turns red?"

"Oh," Merrill says, sitting up. "That would be bad. I think?" She rubs her eyes and nods. "Yes, very bad."

"I should probably check if that already happens. I have a feeling that could make things difficult for us."

Merrill snuggles back into his arm and looks up to him. "Where would you look?"

Carver lets the memories of the terrible future in the dungeons under Redcliffe crawl out of their hiding place. He presses a kiss on Merrill's forehead at the memory of the tranquil sunburst burning there and pushes that image away.

"Redcliffe, under the castle. When we were pulled forward in time, the dungeons were full of it, it grew out of the walls."

"Then we should start there."

"Yeah, we need supplies anyway."

The fereldan banners fly over Redcliffe's walls like they should. The gates are guarded but open, the guards bowing their heads in greeting. A short time later, a young boy runs past them, towards the castle, probably announcing their arrival.

"There's another banner over the castle," Merrill says. "The mabari look like they're barking."

"The king is still here?" Cassandra wonders. "Arl Teagan must not be back yet and the king has taken residence in the castle for now."

"Well, we couldn't have a conversation last time, maybe we can talk now," Carver says and steers his horse towards the castle. "The king is a Warden, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Cassandra says with a thoughtful look to him. "What do you have in mind?"

"Merrill and I were wondering about lyrium — ehm — last night and about the amount of red lyrium I saw in the dark future." Better skip over fade dreams and talkative knife spirits for now. "We want to investigate if the red lyrium is already there under the castle at this time. A warden might know more about this."

Cassandra frowns. "Why? Why is that relevant to the Breach and our preparations for closing it?"

Carver has an inkling that she actually wants to say something else. "You have noticed that there's lyrium growing out of the ground now? What if it all turns red?"

"I see that is a problem but our focus should be on the Breach now, we have to train our forces and develop tactics."

Carver clenches his hands around the reins of his horse. "That's true but I'm still going to run around the country, closing rifts, right?"

"Yes, you're the only one who can."

"So, what do we know about the rifts? Do they appear close to lyrum growing out of the ground? What happens to rifts close to red lyrium? Can we cleanse red lyrium or will everyone who runs into it, turn on us? What if our mages take red lyrium?"

"These are all interesting questions but they're not our main concern."

Carver pulls at the reins and stares at Cassandra. She turns her horse around and after a few moments, the rest of the group has ridden on, leaving them alone; not without some wary looks over their shoulders.

"What is this about?" Carver asks Cassandra.

The frown on her forehead couldn't possibly be deeper. "I worry about Merrill's influence on you."

Carver leans forward and pets his horse's side. "And...?"

"You're not surprised."

"No, I figured as much. She's dalish, a mage, not andrastian, I wondered when you would snap."

Cassandra huffs. "I do not snap. But I worry that she's taking up too much of your focus."

Carver breathes in deeply, calming him before lashes out at Cassandra. "Anything else?"

Now Cassandra lowers her head, avoiding to look at him. "Josephine has said that it will be difficult to sell to our financiers that the Herald has a dalish affair."

"Fucking void!" Carver yells out. "An affair? Are you serious?"

"You know I'd defend her as your betrothed to anyone, I already have. But the nobility in Orlais is different and we depend on them for resources. They look to the chantry and the chantry will never sanction such a joining."

Carver clenches his teeth, swallowing down the litany of curses he wants to say. "Listen, Seeker, I'm not hiding my girl. You should be fucking grateful that she's keeping me sane in this voids be damned mess. I'm gonna marry her, with or without the chantry and Orlais is just going to have to deal with it."

A small smile flits over Cassandra' face and she even seems to blush. The expression goes away as quickly as it appeared and she turns to Carver with a frown. "But you cannot deny that she influences you, this new focus on lyrium — "

"- we're here anyway and I just want to take a look at the dungeons, where I saw the red lyrium in the dark future. I may not be a scholar but more knowledge is usually not a bad thing, I think." Carver looks around, noticing that people are watching them. He lowers his voice. "And in case you've forgotten, I'm a templar, lyrium is kind of important to my kind."

"Yes, that is true."

They both spur their horses on to go forward again, catching up the rest of the group. Carver chews on his lip, wondering if he can let this discussion stand like this. "Cassandra," he says quietly and waits for her to look at him. "I understand the difficulty with Orlais and me and Merrill, I know we're basically broke without those donations."

"I'm very sorry," Cassandra says. "I'm... I can see that she's good for you."

"Let's make her part of my official advisors. That way it's only logical that she's around all the time."

Cassandra looks up, her frown evening out. "A dalish advisor would make sense, someone who can work with Solas on the composition of the veil. And Josephine might even find a way to make Orlais be favourable to her being close to you. The things she can do with a stroke of her pen, it's close to magic."

Carver nods. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If this Inquisition still stands by next Harvestmere, I'm going to say 'fuck the chantry' and I get to marry my girl no matter what."

Cassandra actually smiles, her face lighting up like the sun. "You're a romantic! I never would have thought."

"If there's one thing I learned by watching my sister, it's that life is too short to let happiness slip away from you." He glances over to Cassandra and grins. "Maybe you should look for some happiness too, that Lavellan elf seems nice?"

Cassandra goes bright red and her mouth opens and closes a few times before she can say anything. "I'm... I do not..." She snaps her mouth closed and frowns but she can't stop the corner of her lips from twitching. "I will keep your suggestion in mind."

She makes her horse jump forward and rides past the bulk of the group to take her place at the front. Carver's horse speeds up to Varric's wagon and nuzzles Tuffel, the pony.

"Did my eyes deceive me or did you just make our Lady Seeker smile? Even though just a moment ago you were ready to punch each other in the face?" Varric asks.

Carver grins. "If Cassandra punched me, you'd be out of one Herald, including his magical hand. Have you seen her pummel the training dummies?"

"Yes, I have and that makes it even more unbelievable that she just rode past me and smiled at me. Are you sure you're not a mage?" Varric eyes him critically. "Magic runs strong in the Hawke family, or so I've heard."

Carver laughs and spurs his horse on to catch up with Merrill's giant beast.

"Everything alright?" Merrill asks when he comes to her side. Her horse snaps at Carver's horse and Merrill mumbles something at her in elven to make her stop.

"Yeah. The short of it is, you're now officially one of my advisors. The bad part is that they want to keep us, you know— " he waves vaguely between them, " — a bit of a secret for now."

Merrill lays her head to the side. "Yes, that makes sense."

"It does?" That is not what Carver has expected.

Merrill nods calmly. "A human and an elf, a dalish at that? I've lived in the city long enough to know how shemlen think about that kind of relationship." She looks at Carver and she looks somehow older and harder than usually. "Just promise me that it won't be forever, that you won't keep us a secret forever."

"I promise," Carver hurries to say. "I swear on my life."

A smile spreads on Merrill's face. "And just so you know, the dalish aren't happy about me taking a shemlen as my lathallin either."

Carver swallows but before he can ask her further about that, the castle gate rises up in front of them and their troop comes to a halt. Carver jumps off his horse and adjusts his armor, waving Varric, Dorian, Merrill, Barris and Cassandra to him.

"Has anyone seen Blackwall?" he wonders. "I thought a second Warden wouldn't hurt."

Cassandra looks around. "I haven't seen him since we got into Redcliffe."

"Well, I'm not waiting for him."

The gates to the castle open and he marches forward. A servant bows to them and leads them into the courtyard, where they are met with a well dressed man, who clearly holds a high position in the kings' court. Around them, the kings' guard is practicing, a scene quite similar to the practice field in Haven. Of course, the soldiers look much better equipped, their armor thick and shiny, their fighting stances controlled and well practiced. Carver sighs, Cullen has a lot of training to do with the Inquisition army until they'll look like this.

The man in the fine clothes looks him up and down and his gaze clings to his glowing hand for a moment before he looks at Carver's face again. "I'm Friedrich, the king's aide, what is your purpose here?"

"I need to speak to the king about an urgent matter here in the castle."

Friedrich's nose moves just a tiny fraction, as if he tries very hard not to sneer. "The king is quite busy, I'll relay your inquiry and he will contact you if his time allows it."

"Yes, I see," Carver says and thoughtfully studies the ground of the courtyard. "I'm sure I can find someone else to talk about infected lyrium in the castle dungeons, no need to worry the king about it." He nods towards Friedrich, who has turned ashen. "A good day then."

He turns and stomps back towards the gate, until another voice calls out to him. "I think that's quite enough."

Carver turns back around, grinning. One of the soldiers in shiny armor has turned and removes his helmet. The familiar face of King Alistair appears, a frown on his forehead but a smile twitching at his lips.

"Come with me, you and your friends." King Alistair walks ahead, two of his guards trailing after them as they enter the main building of the castle. Alistair slows his step to walk next to Carver and looks at him. "You know, I've met your sister once, in Kirkwall, and I would have sworn she would cause me trouble one day. I guess I was looking at the wrong Hawke."

Carver shrugs. "It's a family trait, I guess."

"I bet it is."

Varric mumbles something that sounds like 'Definitely' but it's too quiet to be sure.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Alistair asks, obviously not patient enough to wait till they have arrived in some great hall to talk.

"The dungeons under this castle, we need to look for red lyrium."

Alistair stops walking, causing a slight tumble behind him. "Why would there be red lyrium in the dungeons?"

"I assume you got a report about me and Dorian being moved to a dark future?" Carver says carefully. He actually has no idea how much the king is supposed to know.

"Your Lady Montilyet sent us... something." Alistair rubs his neck and shrugs. "It sounded rather fantastic, I must say."

"Well, it happened," Carver says, "and after just one year, the dungeon was overgrown with red lyrium."

Alistair turns to a set of stairs going down. "We can go into the dungeons right away, I'm curious now." He takes the stairs, keeping at Carver's side. "I'm probably making this way too easy for you, I should have made you give me something for this. Playing the game right and all that."

Carver looks at the king and he wonders if Alistair feels just as lost in the political games as Carver does all the time. "Here's something I can give you." He waves Barris forward as they come to the end of the first set of stairs. "This is Ser Barris, formerly of the fereldan templar order. Tell the king about Therinfal Redoubt."

Ser Barris bows, which looks a bit strange because Alistair doesn't stop walking and Barris has to run after him. "Your majesty, Seeker Lucius is leading the templars now but he has been possessed by a demon, or something alike. He has taken over the keep Therinfal Redoubt and he's infecting templars with red lyrium."

"What does red lyrium do to templars?"

Varric chimes in. "Makes them ruthlessly fight anything and anybody. They stop thinking like people. And it transforms them in the end, has them grow crystals in the body. Nasty stuff."

Alistair nods to the dwarf. "Varric, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise," Varric says with a casualness that has Barris blush.

"Where exactly is Therinfal Redoubt?" Alistair asks Barris.

"In the Brecilian Forest, your majesty, about a four days ride from Denerim."

Alistair stops walking. "Anora." He turns to one of his guards. "Send a raven, the queen needs to know."

"Was that enough in exchange for letting me look around in the dungeons?" Carver asks with a grin.

"Yes, I think Anora will appreciate this warning. How much further down should we go?"

Dorian saunters up ahead and looks at the walls. "I say at least three more levels, don't you agree?" he says to Carver. Then he looks at Alistair with a dazzling smile. "Would you introduce me to our dashing king here?"

Alistair's cheeks get a rosy color but he looks at Dorian with an amused smile. "You must be Dorian Pavus, formerly of Minrathous. Not a magister, or so I heard."

Dorian walks backwards in front of the king with the ease of a dancer and takes Alistair's hand. He pretends to blow a kiss on it and winks. "I'm pleased you heard of me, your majesty."

Alistair laughs. "It's certainly a pleasure to get to know you." He shakes his head. "I have a very good friend, I think he would love to eat you up like a piece of pastry."

"Oh, please introduce me to him, my staff hasn't been polished in — "

"Dorian!" Cassandra interrupts, her skin a dangerous color of red.

Alistair turns to her, grinning. "Seeker Pentaghast, I presume. You were there when the Herald and this friendly tevinter came out of the portal."

"Your majesty," Cassandra says with a respectful nod.

"I heard the inquisition exists because of you."

Cassandra shakes her head. "Our beloved Divine Justinia formed the Inquisition in a writ before her death. I'm just carrying out her orders."

"You have a Hawke on your hands, I'd imagine that to be challenging." Alistair chuckles and glances over to Carver.

Cassandra lets a little smile show on her lips. "It has been interesting, yes, but Herald Carver has proven to be a Herald of change and progress, of unity and integrity. He has surprised many of us."

The king now looks fully at Carver. "Interesting, indeed."

Alistair leads them over one of the grate bridges that Carver remembers. Without the permanent glow of red lyrium, the bridge doesn't look quite as scary as it had been but he still has to question the sanity of a builder who bridges a chasm like this with see-through grating.

"How deep does this dungeon go?" Merrill asks quietly, her hand brushing against Carver's armor.

Alistair looks over to her. "You must be Merrill, I had a report about you."

"How exciting, a real report about me."

"It wasn't very nice, I'm afraid."

"Oh."

Carver pulls her to his side, pressing a kiss on her hair.

Alistair smiles softly and looks to his feet. "This castle has been here since forever, grown from a one simple building to this. It's possible that the dungeon was a mine at first."

Another set of stairs takes them down to a level where the floor is wet, water dripping from the walls.

"This looks familiar," Dorian says, touching the wet wall and then smells his fingers. "I'm not entirely sure but it has a hint of lyrium."

"This must be where we came in," Carver says. "We should spread out, somewhere around here could be the beginning." He looks to Merrill and she nods, going to Ser Barris' side, who gives her a surprised look but then bows his head to her and walks with her.

Carver and Alistair turn down another tunnel, following brickwork walls. They talk about Kirkwall, what Alistair remembers of the city.

"The dinner at the viscount's place was terrible, I think the cook had confused salt and sugar at some point and the dessert was — " He stops, staring up ahead and pulls out his sword.

Carver unsheathes his sword and lowers his voice. "What is it?"

"Darkspawn."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"Now isn't that just great."

As they come around a corner, Carver hears a familiar, but disturbing song in his mind. "And we have Red lyrium," he says quietly.

Alistair walks faster, Carver hurrying to catch up. The song gets louder and after one more corner, they stop and stare. This hallway is filled with red Lyrium. It grows from the floor and the walls and at the far end, a single darkspawn sits on the floor. He sets smaller crystals into the stone in rows, as if it's his personal vegetable garden.

When he sees them he snarls and jumps up with frightening speed, attacking them without weapons, just flesh ripping nails and teeth storming towards them. Alistair and Carver step aside and turn at the same time, slicing down the back of the darkspawn.

Even unarmed, the darkspawn is a powerful enemy and his reactions are quick. Carver struggles to keep his shield up against the relentless attacks, stabbing more than cutting with his sword. Alistair fights with brutal speed and cuts the monster down with enormous strikes, not giving a single step until the creature lies dead at their feet.

At last he cuts off the creature's head and straightens, closing his eyes as he listens intently. Carver can't help but be impressed. The King Alistair is a friendly, slightly awkward guy in shiny armor but the Warden Alistair is a frightening warrior whose sword dispenses death with ruthless efficiency.

"I can't sense anymore darkspawn, which is strange."

"Darkspawn don't do things alone?"

"No, they're a horde, when there's one, there's usually many more. But this one was alone."

Carver goes over to the rows of small red lyrium crystals. "And he was planting these."

"This is not how darkspawn behave. I have to inform the Warden-Commander of this," Alistair says quietly as he cleans his sword and puts it back in the sheath. They carefully step around the lyrium planting and avoid touching the walls as they move on.

"Is this the oldest part of the dungeon?" Carver follows the hallway until the brickwork turns into natural stones.

"Yes, I think it is. I wasn't allowed to go into the dungeons as a child but I saw some parts of it anyway. They all have brickwork but this part here looks like a mineshaft."

"You grew up here?"

"Actually in the stables and the pig stalls," Alistair says with a bitter smile. "I didn't see much of the castle before they sent me to the chantry when I was ten."

Carver looks at the king, ignoring the shiny and expensive armor and the masterful sword. He sees a man of his own age, thrown into a big mess just like himself, who tries to make things around him better somehow. The kind of man he would like to be friends with.

"There, a lyrium vein." Alistair points ahead where the old mineshaft has collapsed in on itself.

"Blue lyrium," Carver says. He hears the song of it like a calming hum in the back of his head.

"So this really used to be a mine. Must have been a long time ago."

"Merrill says that the dalish believe that lyrium sings under all forests. And I wondered if that means that it's all connected."

Alistair slowly takes his gaze away from the blue vein and looks at Carver. "You mean all the lyrium veins could come from the same source?"

"Like blood vessels in a body, maybe?" Carver shrugs. "Someone said that the red lyrium is sick, like it was poisoned. What happens if the poison spreads through all of the blue lyrium?"

"You ask many questions, Carver Hawke."

Carver stretches his shoulders. "All these questions are making my head hurt, to be honest. We should go back, the others will worry."

Alistair follows him as Carver picks his way back through the dungeon. Both of them are lost in thoughts and they stay silent for a long time. When Alistair suddenly speaks, Carver almost jumps out of his skin.

"Herald."

"Voids be damned!" Carver exclaims. "You scared me to death." After a short pause he adds, "Your majesty."

"Sorry," Alistair says and snickers. "You can skip that majesty thing when we're alone."

"Only if you don't call me Herald."

"It's a deal."

Carver slows his steps, Alistair looks like he wants to say something but isn't sure how. "What's wrong?"

Alistair looks up from studying his boots. "Have I made a mistake? By sending the mages away?"

"I wanted to have them anyway, so it really doesn't make much of a difference."

"I thought I could change something, that the mages would be accepted. But I had the Arls and Banns breathing down my neck already and then Fiona made that deal with the venatori..."

"Desperate people do desperate things." Carver shrugs. "We're the rebels anyway, you might as well shove that problem our way."

Alistair smiles at that and starts walking again. He seems to be deep in thought, rubbing his chin. At last he looks back to Carver and a smile plays on his lips. "I know who to ask about the lyrium, I see that I can bring her to Haven. And since you're keeping your own army in my kingdom, I'm gonna have to inspect that army soon."

Carver grins. "Come around any time, I'll keep an ale waiting for you."

Merrill welcomes them back with a smile. "Did you find red lyrium?"

"Unfortunately yes."

Cassandra hums thoughtfully. "Will we be investigating this further?"

"You'll be pleased to hear that the king knows someone who might do that," Carver says. "We're going back to Haven to take care of the Breach."

As they walk back upstairs, Merrill leans over and whispers in his ear. "Are the king and you friends now?"

Carver leans down, breathing in the scent of her hair as he whispers, "Yes, I think we are."

"I'm glad," Merrill says. "I think he needed a friend."