H: Fen said he was talking to bianca…
V: I was wondering why there were so many searches for 'how to get a witch to stop talking' in the AI history
H: she told him you're spending a lot of time with a certain redheaded dwarf
H: should I be jealous, Varric? have I been replaced as your muse?
V: Ah, forgot some of those searches were mine
H: saw a picture of her. she's just your type
V: Horrifically unlucky? Doomed and tragic? Surrounded by weird shit?
H: curves for days and come hither eyes

The last text was followed, succinctly, by a string of emojis consisting of eggplants and winking faces. Varric didn't know whether to laugh or let out an exasperated sigh. He was going to have to communicate to a certain AI that Hawke didn't need to be privy to all the details of his life no matter how much she pried. He closed the secure chat out on his phone and eyed the other occupants of the SUV.

Cassandra drove and Solas rode shotgun beside her, staring at a paper map of all things. Maria offered, originally, to sit shotgun but Cullen turned it down immediately. Apparently, the bulletproof glass was stronger in the back seat due to a reduced need for visibility. Things Varric didn't know prior to this whole business, but were helpful regardless. At the very least, if he ever wrote a novel about an assassin it'd be an interesting tidbit to throw in.

As long as he didn't actually get thrown into a real-life assasination plot, that was. He had to admit to being nearly as nervous taking Maria Cadash out of Haven as Cullen had been about it. At least in Haven, the people believed in her fervently. They'd been there when she stopped the vortex, whispered about how she survived. There, she was safe enough surrounded by Cullen's soldiers and Haven's crumbling medieval walls. But, of course, the last reasonable person in the Chantry insisted on meeting her in person, so off they dragged her.

Now, all she had was one cranky old witch, a Seeker, a renegade familiar, and a fucking bestselling author to protect her. It would have been more reassuring if Maria appeared the least bit bothered herself. Instead, she focused her anxiety less on the 'potentially being murdered' and more on 'meeting people.' He couldn't decide if her priorities skewed dangerously out of whack or if she just acclimated quickly to danger.

"But why eggplants?"

Andraste take him now. Cole was sandwiched between him and Maria in the backseat and Varric thought the kid engrossed in examining his own fingernails, but apparently that was a tragic mistake.

"Sorry?" Cassandra asked tersely.

"I said why…"

"Good source of fiber." Maria jumped in, interrupting Cole even though the laughter in her voice was barely contained. "And you've got to get those antioxidants in somewhere."

"That doesn't make sense." Cole muttered.

Cassandra muttered something under her breath that sounded like an accusation that nothing in her life made sense either. Maria's grin was unbearably smug as she dropped her eyes back to the phone in her hand, her thumbs tapping away. Varric didn't even bother to hide his surprise when his phone buzzed.

M: Sexting, Tethras? What would the Seeker say?
V: If you're offering, I'll risk it.

He knew he shouldn't send it, but he couldn't help himself. He monitored her face from the corner of his eye, watched as she looked at the notification, watched the slow curl of her lips upward as she read his message. She shook her head in amused exasperation before her eyes glimmered mischievously and she tapped furiously.

M: I've read Swords and Shields, I'll pass.

He laughed out loud, immediately leaning forward to pierce her with a disbelieving gaze over Cole's lanky form. "You actually read that shit, Princess?"

"I'm as shocked as you are, honestly." Maria responded, settling back into the seat cushions with a wry smirk. "Her breasts strained against her leather jerkin like wild stallions? It was awful."

The wheel to the SUV jerked and Varric looked ahead to see the back of Cassandra's neck coloring. "What are you two discussing?" She demanded.

Maria opened her mouth to answer and, he assumed, further disparage his worst selling series. She was stopped short by Cole wrenching to face her, his palm heavy on her shoulder as he tried to push her down further into her seat. Maria made a noise of protest but Cole simply shoved her down harder. "No. They want to hurt. Hurt like they were hurt, harm the helpers, burn the world."

"What…?" Maria began, bewildered, but Solas straightened and wrapped his hand around the jawbone he wore.

"Seeker, I would heed Cole." Solas advised.

"We are nearly at the camp." Cassandra gripped the wheel even more firmly. "It is only…"

The screams pierced the air and Maria pushed Cole's hand off her immediately, flying to her window to peer out into the desolate neighborhood they were driving through. All he could see outside her tinted window was the burnt out shell of some building or another. Outside his, the only thing that emerged were dozens of abandoned little houses set neatly on scorched lawns.

There was a street sign, hanging lopsided, pointing to the Redcliffe Crossing station indicating they were only a quarter mile away. With icy certainty similar to how he felt Hawke must anticipate disaster, Varric knew the screams were coming from the Crossing, the place where this Mother Giselle gathered all the refugees and homeless war victims.

Cassandra came to the same conclusion, slamming the SUV into park and throwing her door open, pausing only to bark at Maria. "Stay in the car!"

The Seeker ignored Maria's sputtered protests when she slammed the door shut. Solas rolled out immediately as well, stalking after the Seeker as she drew her gun. Varric withdrew his own from under the seat and opened his door.

"I'm coming too!" Maria exclaimed.

"Bianca, lock the doors." Varric ordered tersely before Maria could even reach for her own gun. He slammed the car door shut behind him and the doors all latched immediately with a definitive click.

"Sorry Princess." He called back with a cheerful grin. "You heard the Seeker."

She thudded her fist against the bulletproof glass and Varric strolled away, humming under his breath, ignoring the irate shouts of his name.

"I anticipate Maria Cadash will not be happy, Varric." Bianca chirped in his ear.

"Bianca, baby, better unhappy and alive than the alternative." Varric sighed grimly. The dwarf they called the Herald had too big of a target on her back, stood out too easily with that bright red hair and stunning eyes.

Her photo had been splashed on every publication in Thedas - first the ones the Inquisition's lovely ambassador provided. Then, of course, a series of mugshots as the press began to pick apart her past, began to list crimes she'd been convicted of, the murder charge that didn't stick.

As far as he could tell, Maria didn't look at any of them. If the news was on TV when she entered the room, she either exited said room or turned it off.

He wasn't dumb enough to believe she didn't know what the world was doing and he didn't blame her for ignoring it. Hawke hadn't been able to do it, she'd obsessed over every news report with growing distress and horror. Varric, used to seeing his name in the press, had it a bit easier.

Varric obsessed over Maria's news coverage for her, though, and he suspected Ruffles did too. The latest story, emerging just as they left Haven, was topped by a photo of a stunning, smiling young woman wrapped in the arms of young man with an impressive hipster beard, the sun setting behind them in a city Varric wasn't familiar with. Her silver eyes had been on the camera, her hands holding it outstretched as she took the selfie, but the man in the photo only had eyes for her, his expression amused and indulgent.

The headline underneath it read MURDER OF WEAPONS HEIR STILL UNSOLVED EIGHT YEARS AFTER CADASH'S AQUITAL. FRIENDS, FAMILY STILL MOURN FYNN DUNHARK.

Vultures. Fucking vultures.

Well, they couldn't keep Maria Cadash out of the press, but they could try to keep her out of danger anyway.

xx

Maria slammed an open palm against the glass one more time while she watched Varric stroll merrily away. She didn't expect it to do anything (fucking bullet proof glass) but it felt good to hit something regardless.

Cassandra allowed Varric to hook his phone up to the car via bluetooth. Apparently, that was enough to allow Varric to hijack the whole fucking car. She wondered if the Seeker knew, then immediately decided there was no way she did. "Bianca!" She yelled, diving up the center console and swinging into the driver's seat, pushing the button to unlock the door. Nothing happened. "BIANCA!"

"But… Bianca is a name. Computers don't have names?" Cole questioned. Maria shushed him.

"Yes, Maria Cadash?"

She didn't know if a computer could sound amused, but the voice drifting from the SUVs speakers definitely sounded like she was enjoying the spectacle. "Open this fucking door!" She demanded.

"You do not have appropriate user permissions to issue commands." Bianca stated. Maria swore the AI sounded smug.

"Let me out or I swear I'll…" Maria paused, momentarily stunned by the absurdity. What did one threaten an AI with? "I will spam Varric with the weirdest pornography I can find." She decided.

"There is a filter in place for that. We call it the Rivaini Contingency Plan." Bianca answered quickly. Maria hit the volume dial and turned it the whole way down. She did not need to…

The volume turned itself back up, a song playing loudly instead of Bianca's voice.

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down…"

She was being Rickrolled in the middle of a war zone, surrounded by gunfire, locked in a bulletproof SUV with a sadistic AI. She stared at the console and tried, vainly, to figure out how she'd gotten there.

"It is much more exciting than Ostwick." Cole agreed, poking his head in between the front seats. Maria held out her hand, palm up.

"I need to borrow your knife."

Cole placed the blade flat side on her palm and Maria pushed the seat back as far as it would go. "What are you doing?" Cole asked.

Maria didn't answer for several reasons, the most annoying one being that she wasn't sure if Bianca was still listening. She'd show the snarky AI who was in charge. And if her erstwhile companions thought their Herald of Andraste was above hotwiring a car, they were seriously mistaken.

xx

The doors to the train station hosting the refugees were shut and, hopefully, barricaded. It wouldn't do much to keep the people inside safe if the assembled idiots skirmishing in front of the building, but it was a start. As long as the witches and templars didn't turn their attention to the innocent people caught in the middle, they'd be golden.

Unfortunately, nobody seemed to care if Cullen's troops caught in the middle did perish protecting the refugees. He saw many of them hiding behind cover, one with a bullet hole in her throat staring up unseeing into the sky, another with blistering burns covering his one arm. He even saw the flash of a camera from, what he assumed, was a damn reporter too reckless to hide somewhere safe. "STOP!" The Seeker yelled, barging ahead. "Put your weapons down, this is neutral…"

Before she could finish, one witch launched a barrage of lighting in her direction. The Seeker rolled out of the way in the nick of time.

Somehow, he didn't think these bastards cared one way or another who they killed anymore. The kid was right, these people just wanted to burn the world. Varric didn't find that thought appealing at all.

"Varric?" Bianca questioned in his ear. "Did you wish to keep updated about the status of Maria Cadash?'

Varric's shotgun blast leveled a witch advancing on Cassandra. He tried not to listen to her scream of agony as she fell. The poor girl looked as young as Bethany. "Sure, why not?" He muttered to the AI.

"That will be problematic."

Varric cursed under his breath, hiding behind cover himself as assault rifle rounds pierced the ground around him. "Why is that problematic?" Varric asked through gritted teeth.

"I've lost connection with the vehicle." Bianca admitted. "I suspect Maria Cadash has sabotaged the electrical system."

Oh Bianca sounded irritated. His poor baby hadn't sounded so put out since that incident with Merrill forcing her to watch something like three hundred hours of cooking shows in her quest to find the perfect flatbread recipe.

Before he could even decide what he wanted the AI to do next, a Templar's smite set his ears ringing, the blast knocking Cassandra clear off her feet. He could see the shadow looming over the Seeker as she shoved herself up as quickly as possible.

Then a single shot rang out, piercing in its clarity and the shadow above Cassandra staggered before collapsing, a perfect bullet hole in the center of his forehead. Immediately, Maria Cadash was above the Seeker, reaching down to help pull her up off the muddy ground. "I said to stay in the car!" Cassandra growled, grabbing her own gun and kicking the assault rifle away from the fallen templar.

"My bad. Thought I heard 'hotwire the car.' Understandable mistake." Maria called as both women ducked behind an overturned car. Varric could hear Cassandra's sputtering protestations that those two sentences sounded nothing alike and fought the urge to laugh. He reached up to tap his earbud.

"You're off the hook Bianca, I got eyes on her." He didn't wait to hear the AI's response, turning to his right and searching for Solas. He finally spotted the shine of the elf's head and whistled, drawing his attention.

Solas took one look at Varric before being drawn by the shock of red hair over his shoulder, visible like a flag on the battlefield. He saw the witch smile ruefully, shake his head in resigned acceptance.

"If there were another age, Mister Tethras, she'd be a hero!" Solas called, summoning a blast of energy that knocked the nearest templars off their feet.

Varric heard that about Hawke once too. He knew what this age did to its heroes.

When all the templars and witches beyond their own soldiers were dead, Varric finally felt like he could breathe easily. That lasted for all of thirty seconds before he was staring into a pair of furious stormy eyes. If looks could kill, Varric thought darkly, he'd certainly be dead. He tipped his lips into his most winning, rakish smile, prepared to charm the very ire out of her gaze.

Before he could even say a word, Maria Cadash reached up and ripped the ear piece out of his ear, nearly taking his earring with it.

"If you ever try to lock me up somewhere again, I'm going to take this and shove it so far up your ass you'll be shitting microchips for weeks." She threatened.

"Just wanted to see how long it'd take you to break out, Princess." He declared smoothly.

"Don't call me that." She hissed, her face flushed with her temper, nearly as red as the hair on her head.

How could he stop when it suited so well, particularly when she was both irate and commanding? She was fierce and fiery, a beacon among the battlefield.

Cole's fingers reached out and very lightly touched Maria's elbow. "The hawk flew away, but not before they tried to cage her, break her. He tried to protect her too. Like you try to protect Bea."

Maria clenched her jaw shut tightly and shoved the earbud into his chest, her fingers brushing bare skin where he'd unbuttoned his shirt to flaunt the fine physique he worked so hard for and the chest hair he'd been genetically blessed with. If she was just using her irritation as an excuse to touch, he couldn't tell.

"Don't do it again." She ordered, spinning on her heel proudly and stalking back to the Seeker, stepping over fallen bodies as medics began to pour onto the field.

"It's you!" Maria staggered to a stop immediately, glaring at the interruption. This time, it took the form of a dwarven woman nearly exactly her height, dressed in rugged jeans with a mound of equipment slung over her back. Camera equipment. Varric could smell a reporter from a mile away.

His immediate, visceral response was to jump in, loop his arm through Maria's, and drag her away. It was exactly what Hawke would want if she ended up in a similar situation, but Cole shook his head as if the spirit read his thoughts. The small dwarf was beaming as if they weren't surrounded by dead bodies, as if she hadn't just been stuck on a battlefield, and Maker, she was younger than he thought she'd be. Were they picking reporters out of local high schools now?

"I mean, it's you. Her." The woman continued, holding out her hand. "The one they're talking about. The one everyone is talking about. I'm Harding. Investigative Reporter Harding."

Varric's mouth was open before he could help himself. "No shit. You ever think about getting a program in Kirkwall? You could call it 'Harding in Hightown', and you…"

He trailed off as Maria's eyes bore into him, shrugged helplessly. "Eh, it's an idea." He finished lamely.

"Right." Harding blinked in his direction twice before giving her head a solid shake to clear it. "Right, I'm here for you though, the woman they call the Herald. I wanted to talk to you."

"Nope." Maria crossed her arms over her chest instead of taking Harding's hand. "There's a person for talking to reporters. I'm not it."

Cassandra nodded firmly, emerging to tower over Maria's shoulder with an intimidating glare of her own. Harding wilted and dropped her extended arm. "Ah, no… no, I wasn't… I'm not looking for an interview. Although! If you want to, I'd be more than glad to…"

"No." Cassandra repeated in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Right! Of course. You're busy with the whole 'saving the world' from rogue magic thing!" Harding continued brightly. "So, I want to help. I want to come with you, record what you're doing, show people why they should care, why they should help with the vortex, help end the war."

Holy hell, this girl was young to be so idealistic about her reporting goals. The rest of the business was all about selling advertisements. "I don't have a big following, but I've won awards for some of my stuff. It's just… nobody wants to hire me?" Harding squeaked out.

"Why?" Solas asked curiously. Harding shifted her weight from foot to foot, blew out her breath in a gust.

"I busted a ring of editors taking money from political candidates in Orlais." Harding admitted. "I kinda got myself blacklisted and had to come back home and live with my parents."
Maria's lips twitched before she could school them back into neutrality. Harding soldiered on with her pitch. "I sent your PR person my portfolio and she said it was your call. I just want to follow you around and write about what you do. That's all."

"That's all?" Maria repeated.

Harding bit her lip and met Maria's steel gaze levely. "Listen, I can understand that you don't want to trust me. Hell, if I were you I'd… probably punch the first reporter you met, honestly."

Harding laughed nervously. "I don't care about your past and I think everyone should stop digging it up when we've got bigger problems."

An honest reporter. Who knew?

"I do not think…" Cassandra started.

"Do your parents live around here?" Maria asked instead, her gaze steady and inquisitive. Harding frowned and nodded.

"Closer to Redcliffe. On a farm. I grew up milking cows and shearing sheep, but… well, they're still on the farm. They said they won't be going anywhere." Harding held her jaw tight so that the trembling emotion on the tip of her tongue didn't overwhelm her. "This is their home. My home. I want people to know what this war did. What it cost."

Maria flicked her eyes from Harding to Cole, waited until the kid nodded almost imperceptibly. Varric saw their Herald's shoulders relax and Maria nodded, shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat. "Alright then. But I meant it, I'm not talking to you on camera."

"Thank you!" Harding exhaled. "That's… this is great. Thank you."

"We are late for our meeting, Cadash." The Seeker still glared suspiciously down at Harding, but seemed to have relented as Maria did. "Come."

Varric smirked and shook his head, popping the earpiece back into his ear.

xx

Maria whipped her phone out of her pocket almost as soon as they entered the impressive old train station building. Cassandra was speaking to a soldier on guard, which gave her just enough time to read the notifications she had.

B: plz tell me ur not reading the news. it's all shit.
B: ignore it. i dont want to see you like you were last time

Of course she wasn't reading the fucking news. She wasn't an idiot, she didn't need to keep staring at her photo on every article or displayed prominently on the corner of every TV. She ignored her sister to read the next flurry of messages.

Cullen R: We completed the installation of security cameras around the perimeter of your dwelling. Testing shows they're working properly.
Cullen R: We also threw out several reporters who were attempting to sneak into Haven.
Cullen R: I do hope you heed my advice while you are gone and stay in the backseat of the vehicle.
Cullen R: Or wear a hat at least.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, flipped to the next conversation instead of indulging Cullen's mothering.

Nightingale: We were correct. There is a contingent of clerics pushing the Lord Seeker to arrest you. Do not be alarmed. Watch for this man.

Underneath the message from Leliana was a screenshot of security footage showing a man in Haven on the phone. He wore the tell-tell collar of a priest. The next message was simply a name, Roderick Asignon. Great, Maria thought, scrolling to the next chat. The one that was definitely the most time consuming.

Josie: I guessed your measurements, Miss Cadash. Does 38-27-36 sound correct? And you are 4'5"?
Josie: I know you said you did not need anything, but I cannot imagine you are warm in that jacket. I'll purchase some for you to try on, as well as some more shirts and pants. I know you were not prepared for a long stay in Ferelden and when I called Beatrix she did not seem to feel you had anything appropriate for formal events to send.
Josie: I also ordered some skirts and a dress. Just for you to try on.
Josie: And I obtained that book on Orlesian etiquette for you. I know it is not necessary at this moment, but it is good to be prepared.
Josie: Would you like a hat? The commander stated you needed one?
Josie: I've put some chocolates in your room for when you return.
M: Please stop buying clothes. Do you know anything about a reporter named Harding?

She could imagine Bea got a kick out of trying to tell Josephine the full extent of Maria's closet. Unlike her sister, Maria owned a manageable and practical amount of clothing. Bea had an outfit for everything, but Maria had a uniform and she liked it that way. Maria watched the dots appear on the screen, looked up just in time to meet Cassandra's gaze. "Mother Giselle will meet us shortly. I would like to check the status of the defenses if you would consent to remain out of trouble for fifteen minutes."

"I think I can manage." Maria huffed, looking down as her phone chimed.

Josie: Yes, the media coverage so far has been much how you anticipated it would be. I thought perhaps it would be advantageous to have an embedded reporter. She has cleared Leliana's background check process, no easy feat, I assure you.
Josie: I sent you her CV via email, yes?

There wasn't enough time in the day for her to go through Josephine's emails. Maria took a deep breath and responded.

M: Sorry, must have missed it. I told her she could stay but I wouldn't be interviewed.
Josie: Excellent! If you do change your mind, please inform me so I can coach you on appropriate responses.
Josie: I will purchase an outfit for TV interviews. Just in case.

Maria was not taking all those clothes back to Ostwick. She slipped the phone back into her pocket and scanned the train station. The cavernous space was filled with people as far as she could see, but it lacked the appropriate bustle of humanity. Instead, everyone looked sullen, fearful, suspicious. Most didn't even look up from the ground, their eyes resolutely on their feet as if frightened of what they'd see. The only conversations taking place were the ones between inquisition soldiers talking about the lack of supplies. Not enough clothing, not enough food, not enough medicine. Josephine shouldn't be wasting money on clothing for her when these people were suffering. She'd have to call and force the woman to see that.

She felt someone's gaze on her shoulder and turned to confront it. A gaggle of children, the oldest one holding onto the two smallest, stared at her from the corner. Their faces were dirty and they all looked like they'd been crying. The eldest instantly ripped her eyes away, but the youngest continued to stare, thumb in his mouth.

"Hungry." Cole whispered. "Mom said she'd be here. Why isn't she here? Where did she go? I miss mom. I want to go home, I want to…"

"It's alright Cole." Maria slung her backpack off her shoulders and unzipped one of the pockets, grabbing a crinkling plastic wrapped pastry. It wasn't nearly nutritious enough to be called sustenance, but she guessed it was better than nothing. She crossed the room silently, dropping into a crouch to look into the eyes of the two middle children. The eldest stood taller than her now, frightened eyes wary. "Hey. Do you think you guys could share two of these?" She asked softly.

"Mom doesn't like us to talk to strangers." The eldest girl stated firmly, bravely. Maria's heart ached for her, her shoulders so small to be burdened with the fate of the three children clinging to her.

"I'm not a stranger." Maria reassured, unwrapping one of the cakes. "I'm with the Inquisition."

"Do you know where mommy is?" One of the kids asked eagerly. Maria shook her head and tried to keep her soft smile in place.

"No sweetheart." She admitted. "I don't. But, I think these cakes might cheer you up."

She broke one in half and handed it to the two kids standing before she stood, unwrapping the second and breaking it in half. "I don't need my half." The girl holding the toddler protested immediately. "They can have it too."

"It's not that good for them." Maria pressed both halves into her hand. "You should eat it."

The girl blinked back tears and nodded. "My mom's name is Clara. Clara Holt. If you find her can you… can you tell her we're here?"

"Course I can." Maria nodded firmly and repeated the name. "Clara Holt."

"Here." Harding was at her elbow, camera in her hands. "Let me take a picture of you four so we can show her you're safe. We can put it on the internet too and see if any of your family is looking for you."

"Cadash." Cassandra called from behind her. Maria turned and blinked her own tears out of her eyes rapidly. The Seeker herself didn't look unaffected, her expression forlorn and one arm reaching out and beckoning her closer. "Come, Mother Giselle can see you now."