If Dorian, Solas, and Vivienne were right, Maria was extremely out of her element. Time travel? She couldn't keep the skeptical expression off her face as Dorian gestured pointedly to the laptop he perched sacrilegiously on the altar while he finished his explanation. "So, as you can see, the evidence clearly shows that somehow my old mentor has managed to make my theory of time manipulation actually work. And, for some reason, chose to completely break all the rules of the universe to beat you here."

Maria sat on one of the pews squarely between Cole and Cassandra, so close their shoulders all touched. Vivienne vanished to make her phone calls without another word, Bull dragged unconscious Vint witches into the closet that housed the priest's vestments, and Varric sprawled out directly behind her in an empty pew all to himself. Solas paced near Dorian like a caged wolf.

"I have a question." Maria began, almost feeling like she needed to raise her head.

"Of course you do." Dorian nodded with a weary sigh, leaning back against the altar and crossing his arms over his chest like a professor preparing to entertain lesser questions. "Very well, go ahead."

"What are you smoking and can I have some?"

Varric didn't stifle his snort of laughter, she could feel his warm gust of breath on the back of her neck. Dorian rolled his eyes skyward and muttered something. Maria sat forward, intrigued. "What was that?" She asked.

"Venhedis!" Dorian clarified with a slap of his palm on the altar beside his expensive, but banged up, laptop with the interesting swirling patterns carved into the case. "Listen here you little heretical…"

"Perhaps you should show some respect." Cassandra warned darkly.

"What does Venhedis mean?" It sounded like a swear word and there was nothing Maria liked better than the sound of foreign cursing.

"It means I am a fool who left a rather comfortable bar in the Free Marches to race down here and be questioned by a four foot tall Dwarven madwoman while the world falls into chaos around us!" Dorian glared down his elegant nose and Maria couldn't help beaming up into his annoyed face.

"Tevene is a very concise language." She complimented with a flutter of her lashes.

"What you are describing is impossible." Solas stopped his pacing to whirl and catch Dorian with a stony glare. "It should not have been attempted."

"I quite agree!" Dorian threw his hands up in the air and gestured back to his laptop. "My thesis was wholly theoretical when I wrote it. To make it work would have required mystical forces to very suddenly stop playing by the rules."

"Which… they did." Varric leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the back of the pew between Cole and Maria. "Whatever happened at the Conclave, whatever made that crack in the universe…"

"A remarkable bit of vandalism, yes?" Dorian mused, tipping his head to the side in a way that evoked admiration of a difficult problem.

"Vandalism?" Cassandra repeated, aghast. "Someone ripped a hole through the fabric of our world and you would call it… vandalism?"

"Vandalism that changed everything! Including…" Dorian jabbed his pen pointedly at Maria. "You."

"And you think that your old professor twisted time into a giant knot just to make sure I didn't get the witches to help the Inquisition?" Maria asked incredulously.

"All I know is these… cultists, the Venatori. They are extremely interested in you." Dorian frowned. "And not the sort of interest that typically works out well, I suspect."

"They're angry." Cole whispered, eyes darting rapidly from Maria's knee to his own. "So angry. They want to hurt. Punish."

Maria dropped her head back on the pew with a weary sigh, staring up into Varric's gleaming honey eyes. "I used to have normal days." She claimed quietly into his calm, steady face.

"Sure Princess." Varric laughed, a bit of her hair spilled over his fingers, but he didn't move them. "You, your firecracker of a sister, and Cole dancing through Ostwick. I'm sure it was perfectly boring."

"Sometimes Bea made brownies and we watched people fix houses on the TV." Cole paused, uncertain. "I'm not sure why granite is better than limestone. Or what makes a concept open."

"Granite really makes a kitchen shine, doesn't it?" Dorian cast a wistful look at his surroundings as if lamenting the absence of said granite.

Maria eyed Cassandra's profile from underneath Varric's chin. "Well, he seems less murderous than the rest of the Tevinter contingent."

"And only mildly, charmingly insane." Varric chimed in.

"Plus, I think he watches HGTV." Maria mock whispered conspiratorially. "How bad can he be?"

Cassandra's glare was at once both completely expected and twice as amusing as Maria thought it would be. "You watch HGTV."

"And I've yet to distort the space time continuum to kidnap a bunch of witches." Maria claimed brightly. "You're proving my point, Cass."

Cassandra sighed wearily at the same time her phone began buzzing. Maria sat up straight and met Dorian's dark, amused eyes while Cassandra answered the call gruffly, standing and stepping away from their bench. "I don't know if I believe I'm important enough to fuck up time for. I'm not sure if any of this makes sense."

"It doesn't make sense because you haven't spent ten years studying the intersection of quantum physics and arcane energies. You simply stumbled out of a hole in the world and made the most of it." Dorian frowned, eyes flashing. "Which, remarkably, might actually make you the most important person in the world."

Before Maria could say anything else, a strangled curse came from behind her. She turned to watch Varric swatting away the little ball of fluffy feathers. The bird cawed in irritation, making to try and grab the gleaming earring from Varric's ear one more time.

"Some help here?" Varric sputtered, trying valiantly to protect his ear.

"Nyx." Dorian reprimanded mildly. "Do try not to make a spectacle of yourself."

The bird showed no sign of listening and Dorian shrugged. "She simply enjoys shiny objects. I assure you, she usually returns them."

"Your familiar is a thief?" Maria asked with a smug grin, turning halfway back to Dorian.

"A connoisseur!" Dorian protested. "Your flashy friend there should be thrilled with the attention."

Varric didn't look thrilled. Maria fought back her urge to giggle when he swatted ineffectually at the bird. Beside her, Cole neatly clambered over the pew to offer his hand to the creature. "Hello. I'm Cole."

Like magic, the bird landed on his open hand. Varric glared at the creature as Cole pulled it to his ear, head tipped like he was listening intently. When Cole nodded gravely, he let his eyes flit back to Varric.

"She says it is nice to share." He announced. Maria lost it, slipping down into her pew and covering her mouth to try and hide the laughter. Dorian's mustache twitched rather attractively in front of her.

"We have a problem." Cassandra announced. Maria quickly blinked tears of mirth from her eyes.

"I didn't do it." She protested weakly, still breathless from laughter.

"The Magister has been informed that Madame Vivienne and six other witches wish to leave with you. He is coming here, to the chantry, to force you to leave Redcliffe before others join you." Cassandra frowned tightly. "Vivienne believes he means to discover your dead body."

"Unfortunate for him then that I'm not dead." As she spoke, Maria watched Dorian turn and slam his laptop closed. A bag flew into his hand from Maker knew where and he quickly shoved the computer into it.

"I must be off then." Dorian announced cheerfully. "I would much rather my old friends remain blissfully unaware of my presence. Don't fear, when you're ready to handle Alexius I will find you."

"They're not going to realize you knocked them all unconscious?" Varric asked skeptically.

"Goodness no!" Dorian tapped his pen thoughtfully against his cheek. "I suppose they'll blame the Herald."

"Thanks." Maria commented dryly.

"Don't say I never gave you anything." With that, Dorian swept the bag onto his shoulder and bent over double to lift her hand to his amused smile. "Miss Cadash, it has been a pleasure. May I kindly request one more thing?"

Maria registered the unfairness of it all, because in addition to being sculpted like a classical statue, Dorian smelled amazing. Like sandalwood and spice, foreign and tempting. Instead of answering, she lifted an eyebrow.

"Do try to keep them occupied at the front for me just a few minutes?" He asked with a wink.

"For you, I'll try." Maria watched Dorian's smile grow even more and felt him press a chaste, searing kiss against her knuckles before withdrawing.

"Until we meet again." He promised, turning quickly. He whistled, long and low. The bird in Cole's hand took off, landing on Dorian's shoulder as they walked toward the shadows of the nave. As Maria watched, the dark corners seemed to stretch out towards him with grasping, desperate fingers.

Then she blinked. And he was gone into the shadows.

"Bull!" She shouted, leaping into action before Varric could even open his mouth. "The Vints are in the closet?"

"All except the one you just let go 'cause he was pretty." Bull remarked astutely.

"Too pretty." Varric muttered irritably. She ignored them both and made a beeline for the door.

She had to wait several minutes to time it perfectly. The Magister was opening the door just as she reached for the doorknob, leaving them little choice but to stand in the threshold together. From the narrow space in between the man and the door frame, Maria saw Harding's camera flash brightly. She hoped the other dwarf was able to capture the split second shock and despair that showed on the man's features as he stared down into her.

"Fancy meeting you here." Maria beamed charmingly up at him. "I thought I'd pray for some guidance, and the good health of your son. How is Felix?"

"Well, in spite of your meddling." The Magister spared only a moment to glance behind her as if he'd find some clue to the fate of his missing people. Instead, he was faced only with Bull, Cassandra, Varric, Solas, and Cole.

"Meddling?" Maria repeated innocently. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"I know what you are up to Herald." The man growled low, leaning in close. Bull took a step closer, she could feel the heat radiating from his bulk. But there was also a crowd forming behind the Magister in the square, attention drawn to his elegant clothes and her bright red hair. "You think to steal my witches."

"I don't think I could steal them if I wanted to." Maria interjected smoothly. "Considering they're not property."

Her words send a rustle of whispering through the crowd. She could hear them echoing back in the cold wind. Hear the distaste and fear in the other witches mouths. The Magister sneered down at her. "Get out." He ordered.

"Fine." Maria tossed her red hair away from her face and sent her own gaze over the crowd. "And I'll find room for whoever wishes to join the Inquisition."

The whispering roared into an inferno, people staring between her and the Magister, the man making no move to exit from her way. Maria refusing to slip past but waiting patiently instead as if she had all the time in the world.

And, finally, the man moved. He took one step to the right and Maria walked into the weak winter sunlight with her people behind her. In the center of the square, both of them wary but Sera looking immensely more amused, the remaining two members of her team waited.

"Your… new friend, Madame Vivienne is waiting by the front gate." Blackwall didn't sound like he approved at all. "Maker's balls, what a mess. What did you step in, girl?"

Time travel. Apparently. She turned to look over her shoulder, saw that the Magister had not yet moved from the Chantry steps. His eyes locked on her in spite of the crowd around her.

And Maria didn't need Cole to tell her all about his devious intentions. Maria could read them in his eyes.

xx

Varric didn't think Maria regretted ditching her itchy wool coat, but she couldn't hide the shiver when the icy wind cut through the thin silk blouse and tangled red strands of hair around her face. She pushed them back impatiently and cast a forlorn look at the witches watching their little ragtag group at the gate. Varric, in spite of himself, allowed himself to hope that the rest of the witches would come to their senses and follow Vivienne and her entourage in hitching their wagon to the Inquisition.

Varric sensed in some way many of them wanted to. Maria cut a much more appealing figure than the Magister, at any rate. But the Seeker at her side caused too much concern, smacked too much of the chantry, of chains and prisons, for the witches to truly believe they had a chance with her.

Hell, for all he knew, they didn't. Who knew what would happen after they handled the spiraling vortex of doom problem?

"Most of them are kids." Maria finally swore darkly, ducking her head down. "Scared fucking kids. And we're leaving them here."

"We have little choice." Cassandra answered stiffly, gesturing for Maria to follow her outside. "We must go before this escalates and catches them in the middle."

Not much could have convinced Maria to move, but that did. She kicked a loose chunk of pavement and followed the Seeker outside while the rest of them bobbed like apples in her wake. The witches manning the gates barely waited for Sera's lanky figure to stroll through before slamming them shut. Sera cheerfully gave them the middle finger over her shoulder.

"We have additional cars en route, Herald." Cassandra reported, shooting a beleaguered look at the wrecked SUV still half in one of the cracks. "Perhaps Madame Vivienne's compatriots can assist with retrieving that one."

"With any luck, it may even start." Blackwall grumbled.

Maria wasn't paying attention. She glared back at the gates behind them, eyes as bleak as a winter storm, a frown tugging her lips downwards.

"Hey, we'll get those kids out of this mess." It was cold comfort, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was true, but the sentiment was real at least. She shook her head at his words and continued to glare at the gate.

"Somebody cursed my cairn." Maria mumbled. "My Nanna used to say that when she had a bad feeling."

"Gotta love old Dwarven sayings." Varric's mother had a hundred of them. Before she drank herself into her own cairn, anyway. "My favorite is 'nothing evens stature like a hit to the kneecaps.' I used to tell Hawke that everytime she got on my nerves."

Maria's face softened and she smiled to herself. "My father used to say that all the time."

His imagination immediately ran away with him, conjuring up a precocious child with Maria's blood red hair and a broad-chested man in a police officer's uniform wrapping her hands around his service revolver carefully.

"I don't like these gates." Maria turned from them without another word, hitching her shoulders up against the chill. "I don't know why, but they make my shoulders itch."

"The veil is thin." Cole repeated Solas's words. "Time is twisted. Tangled. Things bleed through that haven't happened. That have. There's blood and fire here, echoing, grasping."

"You know, you're nearly important enough that you can demand to have them torn down." Varric teased lightheartedly, ignoring Cole's morbid rambling.

Maria laughed, like he hoped she would, which had the added boost of making Cole smile.

"Hey herald-tits!" Sera yelled cheerfully. "Watch this!"

Before anyone could react, several projectiles flew over their heads and smashed against the gates. Varric gagged on the sulfur scent of spoiled eggs immediately. The slick, sour yolks and broken egg shells dripped down the gates.

"Maker's ass." Maria cursed, muffled by the sound of her hand over her mouth. "Where in the void did she get those eggs?"

"Take that Tevinter arseholes!" Sera cheered, lobbing several more pungent grenades and letting them shatter against the stone. "Stuff it in your vinty pussies!"

"SERA!" Cassandra snapped. Varric watched the elf shriek joyfully, dropping the empty carton and taking off down the road to the approaching SUVs with Cassandra on her heels. Sera paused only long enough to blow a raspberry at Madame Vivienne before launching herself into one of the cars.

"Shit." Maria swore fondly. "Cass is gonna kill her."

Maybe, but their Herald was smiling again, eyes less stormy, shoulders relaxed. For that, Varric would risk the Seeker's wrath. Maria trailed away from the stinking gates and Varric pulled his phone from his pocket, intent on following her.

But there was one blinking notification on his phone, an alert from the encrypted messaging program. He swiped to unlock the device and opened the message, eyeing the area around him cautiously. Nobody was paying attention, all distracted as Cassandra tried to rip Sera from the SUV. He let his eyes flit back to the phone screen.

Hawke: plz tell me the news is wrong about magisters in redcliffe
Varric: Unfortunately, I'd recommend keeping Broody away from the news as long as possible.
Hawke: fuck. bethy and i are trying but sebastian is gonna give us away
Hawke: then we're gonna have to listen to him bitch
Hawke: and we'll have to stop using magic to heat up our tea and use the damn microwave instead
Varric: What's wrong with that?
Hawke: bethy exploded a potion in it three days ago and it still smells like rotten blood lotus no matter how much bleach we use

Varric snorted. He hadn't missed that shit at all. He sincerely hoped Sebastian was enjoying the two witches and Fenris running amok on his territory.

Hawke: quick question. i've got someone new who keeps showing up in my readings next to the hanged man. wanna take a guess at who it is?

Varric frowned and cast a sidelong glance at the chaos unspooling in front of him. The witches had freed the first SUV and Blackwall had the hood up inspecting the inner workings. Maria had Sera safely ensconced in one of the SUVs and was in the middle of trying to soothe a Seeker who still had a vein throbbing in her temple.

Varric, funnily enough, was the Hanged Man in Hawke's deck and had been since the day he met her in the financial district of Kirkwall. An amusing coincidence, the card his own favorite bar was named after coming to represent him in Hawke's readings.

Hawke told him once, when she was drunk, he was the Hanged Man because he could never make up his damn mind about what he really wanted. Instead, Varric was constantly suspended between two things. The modern world and the glorious past his parents droned on about. His imagination and the crushing reality of day-to-day life. Hawke and Bartrand.

Bianca and her husband.

Varric: What's the card?

The picture came through immediately. A figure wrapped head to toe in a cloak, recognizable as a person only by booted feet deep in the snow. A mountain rose up behind it, dark and foreboding, but the figure clutched a lamp in one hand and a walking stick in the other, striding forward determinedly.

The Hermit.

Varric: No clue, Waffles.

It was a lie. Something about the card, the swirling snow around the figure, reminded him immediately of Maria's slate gray eyes. Hawke saw through him in a moment.

Hawke: she's got a long way to go to get back to who she was supposed to be
Hawke: but she needs to be careful varric. you both do.

Before Varric could ask why, Hawke sent another photo. He tapped on it irritably and enlarged it. The hermit lay face up, but another card laid across it horizontally. One that made Varric's chest hair stand on end. A man, keeled over, with ten swords piercing his back.

And beside both those cards, the Hanged Man reversed so that he stood upright. Crossed over this card, another depicting a horse with a man astride it, sword held aloft. A knight in shining armor.

Varric: You're shitting me.
Hawke: not this time
Hawke: i think you're gonna save that woman varric tethras
Hawke: and hopefully get laid but i haven't seen that in the cards yet

"Well, that's an impressive scowl, Varric."

For a Qunari, Iron Bull moved like a damn cat. Varric barely concealed the urge to jump and instead lifted his eyes from his phone disdainfully, waving it in the air in a show of false exasperation. "Have you ever had to deal with the Dwarven Financiers Union? It's a fucking shit show."

"I've sued a couple of members." Bull shrugged easily. He'd taken off the suit jacket and loosened his tie, adopting a more deceptively casual look. "I think they'd have sent Carta to kneecap me, but my knees are at eye level for most dwarves. Bit intimidating."

"Maybe I should keep you on retainer." Varric grumbled.

"Nah. My research shows you got a pretty good handle on it. You don't need me."

Varric eyed Bull suspiciously. "Research?"

"Little B asked me to take a look into you. Personal favor, you know. Honestly, I've never been good at telling the Cadash girls no and man… the way Bea moves…" Bull made a low grunt of appreciation. "If you haven't seen her dance yet, you should. She won't fuck you, but she's a damn artist."

"In revenge." Varric sighed, shoving his hands and phone back into his own pocket. "For digging through Maria's life."

"Could have gone worse for you." Bull stated mildly. "For a member of the most crooked union in Thedas, you're remarkably clean. No illegal lyrium trafficking, no drug habit. You paid a lot of money to the Kirkwall gangs over the years…"

"Price of doing business in Kirkwall, unfortunately." Varric admitted.

"I figured they matched the bribes you were sending to the templars. Gotta protect all those witches you were hiding. All in all, Tethras, you look like a decent guy. On paper, at least." Bull qualified with a grin.

"So we're having this conversation because…" Varric prodded.

"You want to fuck the Boss." Bull stated bluntly. "And she wants to fuck you. But you're both dancing around each other like you've got a decade's worth of baggage. Unlikely since you just met. What's the problem?"
Varric nearly choked on his own surprise. Qunari, he reminded himself, suffered few of the same hangups anyone else in Thedas seemed to have about sex. He coughed into his fist instead. "I don't know if you've noticed, Tiny, but the world is ending. More important things to worry about than our fun bits, you know?"

"Bullshit." Bull growled. "Listen, Boss isn't gonna make the first move here. She thinks her life is a wreck…"

"I'm not sure she's wrong." Varric interjected, gesturing hopelessly back at Redcliffe. The qunari continued on like a snow plow.

"But she's easy enough to convince to give into temptation. The kind of woman that can't walk past a donut more than once, you know?" Bull explained. "You make the offer, she's not gonna turn it down. Not when you're flashing that chest of yours in her face everyday."

How did Varric keep ending up in situations where the topic of choice happened to be sex even when the whole world was falling to pieces? He half expected Isabela to pop out of the ground with a lewd joke.

"Alright, well, I'll just go grab a bottle of wine and take her over to one of those SUVs the demons wrecked. Maybe the one with the Blackwall shaped dent in it?" Varric muttered sarcastically.

Bull chuckled darkly. "You're an author, aren't you? Surely you can be a bit more creative. If I was going to fuck her, I always thought I'd find a nice hearth first with a fire crackling away. Bearskin rug, nice and toasty right by the flames. She colors up so pink and pretty when she's warm."

Varric grit his teeth together and tried valiantly to ignore that image, Maria flushed and pliant while firelight painted her skin with light and shadow. "And how would you know?" Varric snapped, irritated.

Bull's triumphant grin let Varric know he had lost. "I taught her to fight there, Varric. Remember that."

With that, the Qunari began to whistle and ambled cheerfully towards the SUVs. He didn't look back until he'd taken half a dozen steps. "You coming, dwarf? Don't want to keep Boss waiting."