Bea brought everything Maria cared about from Ostwick along with most of her own shit. She even remembered to bring the few meagre possessions Cole managed to accumulate, mainly broken toys and shiny bits of trash, in the time he'd been with them. Maria could just picture her loading down both Inquisition spies and the Iron Bull with their belongings.
It was as if Bea never expected to return home, although she didn't say it. Bea simply shoved her clothes alongside Maria's, scattered her jewelry and makeup everywhere, and gently stacked up Maria's favorite books on the end table without a word.
Varric Tethras's books were there. The entire series of Hard in Hightown novels and two of his earliest works. Bea teased her about getting them signed, but Maria ignored her and refused to touch them. She simply sat the Tale of the Champion on top and acted like the entire precarious tower of literature didn't exist.
The shoebox was harder to ignore. It was a plain, unassuming cardboard box that Bea sat beside the books. Maria couldn't even remember the pair of shoes it originally housed. Instead, Maria had been using it as a coffin, one she hid under her bed at home.
So, of course, she buried it under the bed in Haven too.
She was irritated, but unsurprised, when it kept reappearing on the bedside table next to her books. She didn't know who exactly was responsible, Cole or Bea, but she decided to pointedly ignore it and continue to shove it back where she wanted it.
Until she couldn't any longer.
She just managed to escape from the Chantry, but not without hearing the final decision. Maria, apparently, had to go to Redcliffe to talk to the witches. They wanted to negotiate with her personally, not the Inquisition, and Maria couldn't do it. She tried to convince Cullen, Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana that this was a terrible idea, but no matter what she said they just reiterated their faith.
Their faith in the Maker and their faith in her. She couldn't stand it, the weight of their expectations, the fear of failing them, the certainty that she would lead the whole world into the abyss because when didn't she drag everyone else down with her?
She threw their papers back in their stunned faces and left, stormed back to the house, to the bed she shared with her little sister now, with the intent of packing her bag and vanishing into thin air with Cole and Bea in tow. Instead, she was confronted with the shoebox, placed perfectly in the center of her bed like a macabre present. She nearly threw it. Instead, she collapsed on the pale, worn quilt, tugged it into her lap, and opened the lid with shaking hands for the first time in years.
At the bottom were a bunch of folded papers. Acceptance letters and congratulations from all the universities that offered to take her, would have showered scholarships on her head, if Nanna hadn't gotten sick. When Maria chose to stay home instead and work her fingers to the bone to try to keep them afloat she stuffed them in this bo, and when she still didn't have enough money to pay the bills…
Well. Carta was easy money, right? She could kick her younger self. Especially since it didn't matter, not in the end.
Maria allowed her fingers to trace over a bracelet set with rubies. They found old Dwarven words she didn't understand, a language nobody spoke anymore, engraved in the gold settings. A family heirloom, one so precious to Zarra Cadash that even when things were most desperate, Maria couldn't bring herself to sell it. It was the only bit of Zarra they had left except for the gold ring Bea wore, the one with the old Cadash family sigil embossed on it.
The bracelet was wrapped around her father's police badge, the chain still looped through it like her dad would slip it back over his head and head out the door at any moment. They wanted to bury it with him, but Maria hadn't been able to let it go, and Zarra allowed her to keep it.
Instead, they buried him with roses Maria and Bea put in the casket, the bullethole in his temple so skillfully covered that Bea didn't even know it was there.
But Maria did, she'd never forget it.
The metal shield, the words Ostwick Police Department and his identification number embossed on it, was still as shiny as the last day he wore it, but it couldn't compete with the glittering diamonds beside it.
The most expensive piece of jewelry Maria Cadash ever held, still looped on a cheap silver chain. The band itself was studded with diamonds and the crowning jewel was a large, tear shaped flawless stone that threw rainbows of light all over the inside of the box, the old letters, her father's badge.
She'd been frightened to wear it on her hand, told Fynn she was going to get mugged, so she wore it on the chain instead. Under her shirt, near her heart. Instead of the glitzy diamond, they both wore plain platinum bands with their wedding date etched on the inside.
The only people who attended had been Bea and Bull. Then they'd run, away from the Carta. Away from Ostwick. Away from Fynn's family.
Not far enough, though. What was it Nanna used to say? You couldn't outrun your problems. They always caught up to you in the end.
Bull managed to get Fynn's ring back from his family in exchange for allowing them to wipe all mentions of their marriage from the court records. He hadn't liked it, but Maria didn't care. The ring was more important, although he should have been buried with it, he'd have wanted to take it with him.
Instead, his ring was looped on the silver chain as well, on the right side of the engagement ring. Maria wore hers for a long time after, until Dwyka threatened to take it off her and throw it in the harbor, and then she'd put hers on the chain too.
Closed the lid to the box, slid it under her bed, and didn't open it again.
"Maria?"
Leliana's voice floated up the stairwell and Maria nearly dropped the chain holding the rings back into the box. There was a brief pause before Leliana called up again. "May I come upstairs?"
"You've been avoiding me." Maria accused, tightening her fist around the chain reflexively, flicking her eyes to the empty stairwell. "I've come looking for you twice. The only time I see you is with Cullen and Josephine."
"That is correct." Leliana's voice, loud but perfectly calm and reasonable, echoed up the steps. "I wished to allow you time to spend with your sister and I hoped you would calm down after the excitement in Val Royeaux. It is no good to plan when you're emotionally volatile."
"I am not emotionally volatile." Maria snapped.
"Cullen would beg to disagree." Leliana sounded like she was barely holding back laughter. "But he is the one picking up reports from all over the conference room floor while nursing a papercut on his cheek."
Maria nearly felt bad. Nearly. She pushed the lid back on the box and shoved it onto the table. "Come up then."
Leliana appeared in a moment, settling herself comfortably on the edge of the bed near Maria. She opened her mouth, but then her eyes shone, delighted. "Oh! How beautiful!"
Maria opened her own mouth, bewildered, but Leliana pointed at the silver chain Maria hadn't even realized was still dangling from her hand. Leliana's eyes shone with good-natured jealousy as she tipped her head to examine the diamond engagement ring. "That is lovely. Impractical, but so elegant. It suits you."
"Impractical doesn't typically suit me." Maria commented dryly.
"Nonsense!" Leliana exclaimed. "Impractical suits all women, truly. Did Fynn Dunhark pick it out? He had wonderful taste, no?"
Maria couldn't make her mouth form the words, the way she usually couldn't when people asked about Fynn. But she could nod, so she did. Leliana's smile softened into something gentle.
"Your sister brought it? I cannot imagine it is something you felt safe wearing in Ostwick." Leliana twirled her finger around, indicating she wanted Maria to turn her head. "But you can wear it now, yes? Perhaps it will be a good luck charm."
It hadn't been a good luck charm. Not for her and certainly not for Fynn. Still, she was helpless to stop Leliana from skillfully plucking the chain out of her frozen hand, helpless against the weight of the rings settling over her skin as she clasped it shut.
"We will find you a better chain. One that does them justice, but still long enough to keep them under your shirts." Leliana dropped the necklace against her neck and Maria reached up, out of a habit not quite forgotten, to drop the rings under her collar. "I will ask Josie."
"I can't go to Redcliffe." Maria turned back to Leliana. "I can't do what you want me to. I'm not that person."
"Who are you then?" Leliana folded her hands elegantly into her lap and fixed Maria with her bright inquisitive gaze. "If you are not the person we need, then who are you?"
"I'm nobody." The words were a reflex, automatic. "I'm nothing."
"You are the woman who climbed a mountain, dying, to save this town." Leliana said simply. "You are the woman who rescued the refugees at the Crossroads."
"I didn't do that. I was just there."
"You were integral." Leliana pointed out. "Without your willingness to do what must be done and your bravery, we would have been lost."
"I'm not a negotiator." Maria argued.
"A lie." Leliana negated smoothly. "You are an excellent negotiator. The fact that the Ostwick Carta has not descended fully into a party of bloodthirsty criminals and remains somewhat profitable is due to you."
"I cannot recruit…" She sputtered.
"You have managed to convince Warden Blackwall and Sera to join us, no? In fact, the Iron Bull has put his whole team at my disposal as well for your sake." Leliana paused. "And because we are paying him, I suppose. Although I doubt he would have offered if not for you. And Solas and Varric have only stayed because…"
His name made her heart ache and she looked away from both Leliana and the towering books. "Varric hates me."
"No." Leliana's voice took on a hard, flat edge. "No. I suspect Varric likes you entirely more than is perhaps wise."
Maybe, maybe for a moment he had. There had been that near miss in the snow, before Josephine stopped him from making a drastic mistake. There were those hours in the first train while he sat next to her flirting and cajoling in equal measure. Not anymore. Not knowing what he knew now. Maria Cadash was as cancerous as the disease that took her grandmother, there was no hiding it.
"How did he get my files?" Maria asked quietly. "You didn't…"
"What do you know about Bianca Davri?" Leliana questioned.
Not much. "She's… what the founder of Rogue Tech? She's a dwarf. They say she's brilliant."
"She is." Leliana glared pointedly at the wall. "And trouble. I will tell you what I know."
Maria slammed her fist into the punching bag as hard as she could, felt the impact in her knuckles, her bones, the space between her eyes and beside the thudding muscle in her chest. With the same momentum she raised her knee and jabbed it into the bag, watched the fabric compress underneath her hit.
"You're still putting too much weight on your heel, boss."
Maria put both hands out to catch the bag from swinging back and breaking her nose. She leaned her damp forehead against the shiny cloth and took a deep breath. "Bad habits are hard to break. Like spying, right?"
Bull chuckled and moved into her field of vision, scratching the eyepatch covering his missing eye thoughtfully. "Honestly, it's been more guarding. Do you have any idea how many people have tried to come in and pester you? Are you starting to feel like a shark in a fishbowl yet?"
"I can't blame them for gawking." Maria muttered, turning from the bag and pulling her glove off with her teeth. "I'd stare too."
Bull's gleaming eyes didn't miss a beat. He watched as she dropped her first glove to the ground, then the second. He waited until she pushed back sweat soaked hair before he spoke again. "You get it out of your system?"
Honestly, Maria didn't even know what she was trying to work out inside her tangled up head anymore. Was it the fear of what Dwyka would do with both her and Bea just beyond his grasp? Was she worried about the fact they were sending her to go negotiate with witches when she knew hardly anything about magic? Scared of failing them? Or was she furious that Varric allowed his business partner to dig through her life before confronting her with all of it?
Business partner, her mind supplied unhelpfully, or girlfriend? Leliana wasn't quite certain one way or another. There was certainly whispered rumors. Dates where they both disappeared. Nothing recent. Nothing steady. But…
Leliana showed her photos of Bianca Davri, elegant and sparkling in a slinky black dress worth more than anything Maria owned. Her arm looped through her rich husband's, her other hand holding one of her famous phones. She looked like the kind of woman Fynn's father wanted him to marry. Maria hated her immediately on principle.
"No." Maria admitted, leaving her gloves where they landed and looping back to the bottle of lukewarm water she'd left on top of a pile of weights.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Maria scoffed audibly and Bull's lips twitched in familiar amusement.
"Wanna fuck?"
That made her laugh, just like Bull knew it would. It was one of the first things Bull ever said to her, an easy, casual offer to the barely legal teen with the too-old eyes in his gym begging him to let her fight with men twice as big as she was. He confessed later he knew she'd say no, but he wanted to watch her reaction.
She'd been so mad that first time she'd stormed off. She came back two days later saying she'd fight him if he wanted, and kick his ass to boot, but she wouldn't fuck him. She hadn't actually kicked his ass, but she'd put up a fair fight, and he agreed to teach her.
Now he just offered to make her laugh.
"Look, I'm just going through a rough patch." Maria shrugged her shoulders, wiped the sweat from her brow and brought the water bottle to her lips.
"Cause when are you not?" Bull laughed.
Truer words had never been spoken. She gulped the water and threw the bottle back down, braced herself on the weights. Bull's heavy hand settled on her shoulder and she didn't buck it off.
"You shouldn't have brought Bea here." She said it quietly as if worried her whisper would carry straight to Bea's ears. "This has gotta be the most dangerous place in Thedas right now."
"If I didn't bring her, boss, she would have just come on her own." Bull hunkered down on one of the benches and put his elbows on his spread knees. Sitting, he was just about her eye-level. "You know, you could have called sooner. Not just for a lawyer. For a friend, for someone to have your back."
How many times had Bull said that to her over the years? She'd lost track. "I didn't see the point. It's not like you're an expert in weird shit either. Besides, I'm sure Bea called the minute she knew I was alive."
"Before, actually." Bull admitted. "Terrified out of her mind. You know you're all she's got left. I told her to cool her heels, that you'd survived lots of close calls before. Krem actually contacted that Ambassador of yours before you even woke up, soon as she spoke to your sister. Said if you needed a lawyer he was on retainer."
Maria laughed to herself. "Course he did. I'll owe him a night at the club when we get back to the Free Marches. Need to call him anyway and say I finally figured out that bar brawl fiasco..."
"Maria." Bull began firmly. "You're not going back to the Free Marches."
She shook her head and grabbed her water bottle. "Sorry. Didn't realize you were my dad."
"Let me rephrase that." Bull stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You're going back to the Free Marches over your sister's dead body and I, for one, wouldn't tango with Bea Cadash when she's made up her mind."
If she didn't take care of Dwyka somehow or go back to Ostwick, it would be over Bea's dead body. The thought sent a shiver up her spine, one she thought Bull picked up on.
"You're out, Boss." Bull waved his hand expansively. "Free. Carta can't get to you here, not past that sexy redhead and all those soldiers.
Yes they could, because they knew something Bull didn't. Something Bea knew damn well too and Maria couldn't risk…
"Tell me." Bull commanded. "C'mon boss. You've been hiding this, whatever it is, from me for seven years. It's time to come clean, take care of it, and move the fuck on."
Maria shook her head, mute. Bull sighed, disappointed. She hated that sound so she looked away, up at the water stained gym ceiling. She took a deep breath and focused on it. "I can't tell you. There's a reason."
"A damn good one, I hope." Bull growled. It was the same fight they'd been having every single time they ended up in the same room for years.
"Leliana wants to help me."
"Doesn't help if you're not gonna…"
"I am." Maria interrupted. "I am letting her. I'm trying to, anyway. I'm trying…"
She swallowed the emotion, stuffed it down. She was fucking trying. "They want me to do all this shit and be this… this thing. And I'm trying."
Bull was weighing her in his eyes, the same way he had all those years ago. Then he nodded, satisfied. "You know, boss, I'd half convinced myself I'd never see that little spitfire that walked into my gym all those years ago. Thought she was gone."
"But you still call me boss, don't you?" Maria snapped.
"You're still bossy." Bull laughed, the sound warm and safe. "But I turned on the news the other day and I saw her. Just the way I remembered her, staring down someone twice her size with a look on her face like she'd eat him for breakfast. I was proud of you."
Bull paused, fixed his one bright eye on her. "Fynn would have been proud of you."
Why did everyone keep trying to pull the barely healed pieces of her heart apart? She blinked quickly, her hand raising to the chain hidden beneath her t-shirt. Bull watched her hand touch the place where it rested silently. Maria dropped her eyes to the blue mats beneath her feet.
"You're good, boss." Bull stated. "We're gonna help you. You don't gotta do this alone. Bea's here. I'm here. Hell, you've got a nice little army coming along."
"They're not my army." Maria protested.
"Then whose army are they?" Bull asked with a wicked grin.
xx
The wind caught a loose bit of Harding's braid, blew it across her freckled nose and she tucked it back impatiently. She looked at her notecard, eyes flicking across it quickly. He saw her read the words back to herself before she nodded and turned back to her camera. She hit a button on her phone and waited until the light on the camera turned red.
"This is Harding reporting from the city of Redcliffe. Best known for the tragic use of blood magic responsible for hundreds of casualties during the Ferelden Civil War and the heroic rescue by King Alistair and General Amell. King Alistair, controversially, opened Redcliffe to the rebel witches after the fall of the White Spire. Minister of the Circles, Fiona d'Montsimmard, invited the Herald of Andraste, Maria Cadash, to Redcliffe to participate in a groundbreaking summit to…"
"She live?" A gravelly voice asked from what seemed like miles above his head. Varric squinted up at the massive qunari, dressed smartly in a pinstripe suit with a distracting tie covered in bright, flying, pink nugs.
"Always is, Tiny. She thinks it makes her look more genuine to the masses." Varric grinned at Harding's back.
"Risky, though. Never know what's gonna happen live." Bull grumbled, adjusting his necktie.
"Do the socks match, Tiny?" Varric couldn't help himself, jerking his thumb pointedly at the tie.
"And the boxers." Bull grinned.
Varric really didn't need that mental picture, but he guessed it was entirely too late. "Ever hear of leaving a bit to the imagination there?"
Bull let himself stare pointedly at Varric's exposed chest hair and Varric laughed. "Alright, point taken. But my mother always said if you've got it, flaunt it."
"I don't know whose chest is more impressive, yours or Boss's."
Maria's, undoubtedly. She was a work of art carved by the Maker to be an object of fantasy, ones his mind couldn't quite keep from conjuring up. It was the writer's curse, a vivid imagination, and all his fantasies seemed to start with Maria Cadash tumbling into his lap half naked displaying her glorious breasts.
"Mine, clearly." Varric adopted a wounded expression to go with his lie. "She doesn't have to work for hers, this look takes some serious maintenance on my part."
For some reason, Varric didn't like the gleaming look in Bull's one good eye. He felt like, somehow, he'd been caught with his pants down.
"So, we have a small problem."
Both Bull and Varric turned to Maria's voice. The road to Redcliffe, heavily barricaded, framed her. Varric could see people on the old, impressively still standing medieval walls, pacing. Cassandra stood by the first barricade involved in what looked like a rather heated discussion with the guard.
Maria herself was dressed to impress, shoved into a business outfit as flattering at any Varric had ever seen. A blue silk shirt tucked into sleek black pants. She wore a wool peacoat, a distinct change from her preferred leather bomber, but she adopted the same posture she always did. Hands shoved deep in her pockets, legs planted solidly on the ground. Her hair twisted into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, but the wind was pulling strands from it too.
She looked elegant, polished, and distinctly uncomfortable outside her normal clothes. Like a kid going for her first real job interview. He was about ready to dial up Josephine and demand they let her dress herself.
"What's the issue?" Bull asked calmly. Maria shrugged, irritated.
"They weren't expecting us."
"How?" Varric asked, even though Maria hadn't directed her gaze towards him in days, still too upset about what happened to give him the time of day, despite his attempts to apologize.
It didn't help Maria was as slippery as a greased nug. Every time he nearly caught her alone, she somehow managed to disappear like mist burned away in the sunlight. It was maddening.
But Maria did look at him with those stunning gray eyes, her irritation at her clothing or the situation finally eclipsing whatever contempt she felt for Varric. "Fuck if I know. I can't turn on a bleedin' news channel without hearing about how important this damn meeting is and now…"
"It's a ploy, Boss." Bull frowned. "Gotta be."
"Well I don't know what the fuck they want." Maria ripped her hands from her pocket and made to run her fingers nervously through her hair. When she found it captured at her neck she swore again, biting her lip instead and running her fingers over the cuff of her coat where her arrow tattoo just showed at her wrist.
"Well, we're here now." Varric started cheerfully enough. "What are they going to do, slam the door in our face?"
"Yes." Maria snapped, color rising to her cheeks. "That's exactly what they're trying to do."
Well, shit. Maria ducked her head back down and pressed her fingers into her temples, hard. The wind blew again, harder, and Varric swore it carried a hint of danger in it. Some sort of electricity, like a storm about to blow through.
"Miss Cadash…" Solas must have been watching Maria like a hawk from the corner of his eye because he was there in a moment, long fingers wrapping around Maria's shoulder gently.
"Maria." She blurted out in response. "I'm fine, I'm fine. It's just my head is…"
As she spoke, Varric watched a jewel of ruby red blood slide from her nose to her pink lips. She paused, fingers smearing it away, turning crimson themselves at the contact.
It was just like climbing up that damn mountain to their deaths all over again. Varric reached out without thinking, taking Maria's other shoulder in his. "Hey, maybe you should sit down Princess."
"Don't call me…" She began to bristle.
"The veil is thin here." Solas murmured softly, squeezing Maria's shoulder. "It is concerning…"
"Yes." Cole spoke clearly from behind all of them. "It's thin. There are holes. The blood tore it and the witch with the crownless king couldn't stitch it back together."
"Look alert!" Blackwall called. "Something's happening! Seeker!"
They all turned to Blackwall dragging an obviously shocked Sera from pavement shattering beneath their feet. Varric watched one of their SUVs tilt precipitously, half falling into the spreading cracks. Smoke was rising from within them, as if they led to hell at the center of the world.
Varric wished he was surprised when the skeletal hands burst from them, but he really wasn't.
"Shit…" Bull mumbled. "This is why you don't do live newscasts."
