Judgement at Skyhold

It was a new day at Skyhold. The most senior Grey Wardens accompanied the Inquisition's forces back to Skyhold, but given the severity of The Order's crime, they were not warmly received by everyone. Allowing the Grey Wardens to join the Inquisition would either help him down the line, or bit him in the ass later. But now Rajmael had some of the best warriors and tacticians in all of Southern Thedas willingly in his ranks, and they now had a grudge against Corypheus and his Venatori.

Rajmael and Leliana were walking around the rookery discussing what had just transpired. This disaster had been turned into a great victory. They needed to make the most of it.

"Hawke is preparing to leave for Weisshaupt Fortress in the Anderfells. With luck he will be able to warn the Grey Wardens there from falling prey to Corypheus. As for the Wardens of the South, we have set them to work fighting against Red Templars and clearing out demons, while staying clear of the Venatori." As usual, Leliana's reports were thorough. "With our victory at Adamant, you've dealt Corypheus a serious blow, Inquisitor."

"Rabid animals are at their most vicious when they're backed into a corner. We must expect Corypheus to start doing his worst now." Rajmael stated.

Leliana nodded her head. "Agreed. While you bested him at Halamshiral and at Adamant, he himself wasn't present either times. We fear he may be getting closer to finding another method into the Fade. We must keep pressing on him and flushing the Venatori out."

"And to that end, we must continue to reign in support. Despite what happened, the Wardens still command great respect in the South. Use their Rite of Conscription to get us necessary supplies and call in any favors with the nobility who honor the Wardens." Rajmael instructed. "Now that they're with the Inquisition, the Wardens can further our cause."

"A brilliant idea. I know just which doors to knock on to get such favors."

Rajmael turned to leave and let Leliana set to her task.

"What was she like?" Leliana asked facing away from the Inquisitor. "Divine Justinia, or her soul, or the spirit that took her form. I read your report. I know it isn't clear, but..."

"She seemed...at peace. There was an undeniable serenity around her, and she guided us every step through the Fade." Rajmael could hear the desperate melancholy in her voice. She deserved to know at least that much.

"That is good. It sounds...exactly like what she would do." Leliana admitted.

"She did ask me to do one thing before she faced the Nightmare." Rajmael remembered. "A message for you."

"For me?"

"Yes. She said, 'I'm sorry, Leliana. I failed you, too."

"Oh..." Leliana looked as though she might weep. "I...know you did not care for The Divine, but thank you for telling me."

"What about The Hero of Ferelden? The Spirit of Valor that took his form. What was that like?"

Leliana chuckled dryly. "It was...I don't know how to describe it. The way he acted, spoke, even the way he fought, I truly believed in my heart that it was Aedan Cousland. When I saw him on the battlefield, slaying hordes of demons, and then leading us against the Rift, I felt that same sense of...victory, that I felt when we fought at Denerim. Like no matter what terrors we faced, we could still attain win. I had forgotten what that was like."

"And now, rumor is spreading everywhere that the Hero of Ferelden led our forces to victory against an army of demons. Our people's spirits have never been higher." Rajmael informed. "It's ironic how Corypheus' plan to destroy us, only left us inspired to fight harder against him."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Leliana smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time. "I should finish my tasks before I forget. There are important matters I must cater to, but later there is something I would like your assistance with."

~XoXoXo~

Most of them were still adjusting to what they saw at Adamant Fortress. It was a harrowing ordeal, and Rajmael committed himself to checking on all his companions to make sure everyone came out of it alright. But first he wanted to check on his allies. He found Nathaniel, Oghren and Sigrun at the stables, already preparing to leave.

"Leaving so soon, Warden-Commander Howe?"

"I'm afraid so, Inquisitor." Nathaniel was securing his saddle on his horse. "With the Wardens of Orlais now serving the Inquisition, we have to return to Vigil's Keep and make sure the Wardens of Ferelden do not fall under Corypheus' plans." The Fereldan nobleman turned to face the Inquisitor. "I must say it has been an honor fighting with you, and on behalf of the entire Order, thank you for saving our brothers from themselves."

"Haven't seen so much destruction and arse-whipping power in a single being since Aedan Cousland. Er, the real one that is." Oghren complimented. "You got a spirit of sodding steel, salroka. If you ever want to get together and swap stories over drinks, Ol' Oghren's buying the ale."

"I'm gonna miss your castle, Inquisitor." Sigrun admitted. "The smell of the mountain air, grass and stone is so wonderful. I hope I can come back here someday."

"Our doors will always be open to you. To all of you." Rajmael promised.

"And if you ever find yourself in Amaranthine, be sure to look for us at Vigil's Keep. You'll always have friends there. And perhaps, someday, you, Garret Hawke, and Aedan Cousland will fight together on the same battlefield." Nathaniel said hopefully.

"I'd give up my left dangler to see that!" Oghren guffawed.

"I'm almost too scared to imagine that." Sigrun admitted.

Nathaniel proudly shook Rajmael's hand, and the Inqusitor watched as the three companions of Aedan Cousland of Highever walked down the road through the Frostbacks like warriors of legend.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael turned to return to his Keep, and was surprised to see Morrigan waiting for him. What could she want? She looked...anxious.

"Inquisitor, I...I heard rumors, impossible though they may be...Is it true that...Was Aedan Cousland truly there?" Morrigan's tone was full of concern, and her eyes were begging for an answer. "I heard from the soldiers that he drove the demons back into the Rift and helped turn the tide of battle. Is it true?"

Rajmael shook his head regrettably. "I am sorry, Morrigan, but no. A Spirit of Valor took Aedan's form to lead the soldiers against the demons. It captured him so thoroughly, it convinced all of us, even Aedan's companions that he was truly the Hero of Ferelden. It even fought with his fighting style."

"Aedan always was a...shimmering example to others." Morrigan laughed sadly. "Still, I had hoped...I wished that...I suppose it doesn't truly matter. It is good that you saved the Grey Wardens from their own self-destructive foolishness. For all their eagerness to shed blood for their cause, we will still need them should another Blight arise. If my Warden had been there, Corypheus would certainly have another thing to be afraid of. A warrior who slew an Old God single-handedly is not someone to be ignored."

A crazy idea struck Rajmael square in the head. "It's an established fact that if Aedan Cousland is even indirectly involved with anything, he ruins his enemy's day. Could he help us against the Venatori."

Morrigan paused for a moment to think. "'Tis...unlikely. Corypheus uses the Blight, and is not controlled by it like a true darkspawn. Still, my love has ever been resourceful, and he is likely to bare the Elder One a grudge for the damage he's caused. I suppose I can send him a letter." Morrigan sighed and shook her head sardonically. "He will think this means I miss him, of course, and he'll make sure I know it. I hope you appreciate this sacrifice, Inquisitor."

"I'm sure you suffering your lover's affection will be worth it if he can assist us." Rajmael chuckled.

Morrigan laughed in return. "Very well. I shall get into contact with him immediately. I'm sure his assistance shall prove invaluable."

~XoXoXo~

With his business with Morrigan and the visiting Fereldan Wardens completed, Rajmael felt it was time to check on some of his companions. There was one person in particular he wanted to see first, just because he knew it would bring a big smile on his face.

After using almost a dozen healing draughts, seeing several healers, and using her own magic as a Knight-Enchanter, Vivienne's face was finally perfectly mended after having the Spirit of Valor posing as Aedan Cousland broke her face. You could hardly tell any damage had been done to it, though she was very quick to reapply her makeup.

"Ah. Inquisitor! I've been meaning to speak to you." The Imperial Enchanter stated with an unusual look of intent and curiosity on her face. "You walked physically through the Fade. You must tell me, what was it like?"

Rajmael knew that if he gave he an accurate description of what he saw in that region of the Fade, it would reinforce her already negative, closed-minded view on the world of spirits, and the world as a whole. He did not need to give her more ammunition. "It was...incredible. In all the years that I have meditated and visited the Fade, never before had it reacted so strongly to my presence. My magic was stronger than it had ever been while I walked there."

"To have walked physically through the Fade. Such a thing has not been done since the Magisters of Tevinter created the Blight. I am positively envious right now. You will be epitome of magical achievement for centuries to come."

Rajmael could detect the envy in her voice. "Leave it to you, Madam de Fer, to turn a truly groundbreaking discovery into an empty status symbol."

"Darling, you should be proud of such an accomplishment." Vivienne insisted. "The last time such a thing happened, the Magisters, in their foolishness, created the Blight, but you managed to stop a demonic invasion."

"The Grey Wardens have been crippled, and we lost a lot of good men on both sides, Vivienne. I don't relish in claiming fame when I have to tread over the bodies of so many dead."

"The Grey Wardens died because of their own foolishness, darling. If anything, this tragedy proves the true dangers that magic poses to the world." Vivienne reminded. "You should remind the world the cost of such actions.

"Oh, that's just classic you, isn't it, Vivienne?" Rajmael said with disgust in his tone. "You'll use any excuse to reinforce your limited view on the world."

"It's not so much an excuse as it is a proven fact." Vivienne argued. "The Warden mages, the Wardens themselves, have no oversight on them, and complete leeway with all the nations and access to forbidden magic. This disaster was a long time coming."

"Magic is never the cause, merely the means. Ignorance, arrogance, those are true causes of all ruin. And you, Vivienne, are walking right down that line."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You arrogantly think that just because you, with your high rank and position in court, that if you say it is true, it must be so. You're ignorant to any and all sense of thinking, suffering, and responsibility that exists outside of your marble mansion and your silk gowns. And frankly, it's starting to bore me." Rajmael criticized. "I don't need a teacher, and I certainly don't need your opinion what facts truly are."

"Of couse not, dear. After all, you're the Inquisitor." Vivienne spoke with an undercurrent of venom in her voice and contempt in her eyes. "But if you continue to make such irresponsible decisions, eventually, you'll find yourself in the center of tragedy."

"And I suggest you take your own advice, or you'll trip on your own mistakes, Vivvy." Rajmael spoke her name as an insult.

"I think this verbal joust of our has run its course. Do be a dear and run along. I have important matters to tend to."

Vivienne arrogantly turned her back on Rajmael, and he was half tempted to put a knife in it. But that would lower him to her level. After all, all Orlesian aristocrats are backstabbers. She would soon dirthara banal'enaras soon enough, he had no doubt.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael found Solas in the arbitrary adding to his ever growing elven fresco mural. Their was an angry grimace on the elven apostate's face as he carefully, but deliberately applied his art to the wall. Ever since this whole affair with the Grey Wardens began, Solas seemed particularly upset with the whole Order. After what the Wardens did at Adamant, Solas' opinion of the Order was especially sour. And Solas wasn't very fond of Rajmael's decision to recruit the remaining Wardens.

"Something wrong, hahren?"

"I can't believe the Wardens could even attempt such a plan." Solas cursed angrily. "To seek this Old Gods deliberately, in some bizarre attempt to preempt the Blight."

"The Wardens take up the mantle of defending the world, but don't give us a say in how we want to be defended." Rajmael commented in agreement. "But the Wardens are the only people who step up to defend this world from the Blight. They live and die in horrid agony so the rest of us can judge them."

"Responsibility does not equal expertise. Action is not necessarily better than inaction." Solas retorted.

"The last Blight only lasted a year, the shortest of all Blights. And in that time, over a million people were killed, and Ferelden still suffers from the after affects of it." Rajmael reminded. "So what would you have them do? Sit on their hands and do nothing? Leave the world? Yes, their plan was horrid, and ill thought, but doing nothing is worse than failing."

"How do you know they would have succeeded? How did they?" Solas countered. "The Blight is not something one smugly outmaneuvers!"

"And how would you know? How many times have you ventured into the Deep Roads to stop the darkspawn from surfacing?" Rajmael seethed. "Maybe you've forgotten, but it's thanks to what the Warden's did ten years ago that you have the luxury to keep Dreaming. Or are you ignorant enough to have forgotten that?"

Solas sighed despondently. "Forgive me, but the whole notion is...unnerving. I suppose not everyone can be prepared for an enemy like Corypheus. At least you were there to stop him. And you were able to recover what you lost in the Fade. That in itself is a great victory."

A chill went down Rajmael's spine as he remembered what he saw back in the Fade. "What we saw in the Fade, that cannot truly be the Beyond's real form, can it?"

"The Fade takes many forms, all of them reflections of our world, or aspects of it. And some realms reflect off what the Spirit who rules that realm represents. The Nightmare was truly a unique, and very powerful spirit to command that realm so completely." Solas explained.

Rajmael remembered how perfectly the Nightmare reflected his deepest fears. How it knew everyone's personal nightmares. Then Rajmael remembered something that had bothered him ever since they were in the Fade. "Solas when we where in the Fade, the Nightmare spoke to you in a dialect I wasn't familiar with. It was Elvish that much was clear, but I was too busy fighting to fully understand what it was saying."

"I'd be surprised if you weren't. It is an Ancient tongue. One that has not been spoken in millennia. I was only able to learn of it in my Journeys into the Fade and even then it took years to fully master it." Solas answered.

"What did it say to you?"

A look of deep sadness welled up in Solas' eyes as his face became crestfallen. "...Forgive me Inquisitor, but that is something I do not wish to share with others. Like all fears It is something only I can overcome. Please, do not press further."

Rajmael respected the hahren's word, and decided to leave him to continue his painting. Still, Rajmael's inquisitive mind could not help but be curious. What did the did the Nightmare say to him? Why was Solas' greatest fear dying alone?

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael found their residential Warden outside the stables chopping wood with focused determination. He wasn't in the mood to be working on his rocking-griffon like he usually did in his free time. Right now, all he wanted to do was hit something. Rajmael didn't blame him. He just watched the Order he had devoted his life to, his sole reason for living, almost bring the world to its knees, by summoning a demon army. And the worst part was, they did it willingly, all because they were manipulated by Corypheus.

"Someone I knew once described Adamant to me." Blackwall told as he swung the axe. "He said, 'Adamant was, and always will be, the Order', he said. A guardian on the edge of the abyss. The lone soul that stares into oblivion and does not falter." Blackwall split the next log in half with anger in his swing. "That's what Warden Clarel tried to be, what they all tried to be. What Corypheus did to those men and women at Adamant, it's not right. They willingly gave up their lives to save us, and Corypheus took their sacrifice, twisting it into his own!"

"Clarel gave into her fears, and allowed herself to be manipulated." Rajmael reminded. "When Stroud protested her plan, she branded him a traitor. And in the end, she was wrong, and killed her own brethren for nothing."

"Because Corypheus pushed her in that direction!" Blackwall argued. "Her desire to protect was so great, it lead her astray."

"The same thing could be said about what Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir did during the Blight." Rajmael reminded. "He killed and betrayed so many of his people because he thought he was doing the best thing for his country. But you're right, there's no way anyone can prepare for a deceiver like Corypheus."

"It's not right, Inquisitor." Blackwall lamented. "To want to do good, to be good, and have that turned against you. Stroud and Nathaniel stood strong, and even Clarel redeemed herself in the end."

"Stroud and Nathaniel both had the strength of character to stand up against their brothers when they were wrong. And you did as well." Rajmael reminded. "That is the kind of strength we need, that the Wardens need. When things seem bleak, and when the right choice seems impossible, you choose it anyway, even when it seems easier not to take it."

"I know, and that's why I choose to keep fighting. Stroud, and even Clarel, both of them died great people. In the end, it's not the armor, or the trappings of the Order. Not even the... Joining that makes a Warden. At the heart of it all, all a Warden is, is a promise. A promise to protect and save others, even at the cost of your own life."

"And it's a promise I know you can fulfill, Blackwall." Rajmael encouraged.

"I'm glad you think so. It's...why I became a Warden in the first place."

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael knew how much demons scared Iron Bull, even if the colossal oxman would never admit it. Rajmael was surprised and a little bit disturbed to find Iron Bull in the training courtyard letting Cassandra beat him with a laundry pole. Rajmael couldn't tell if this was a training exercise or if it was some kind of post-intercourse ritual.

"Again." Cassandra hit Iron Bull with the stick. "Again!" Cassandra whacked the muscle-bound mercenary again with an annoyed look on her face. Iron Bull wasn't impressed. "Oh, come on, Seeker! This is why we don't allow women to fight under the Qun!"

Rajmael knew from personal experience that what Bull just said was a mistake, as evidenced by that dangerous look in Cassandra's eyes. She reared back that pole and smacked Iron Bull upside the chin with all her weight behind it. The stick connected with a loud *THWACK!* and Iron Bull went down like sack full of anvils.

"Good one..." The oxman wheezed on his back.

Cassandra passed the whipping stick over to her lover. "Here, Rajmael. You take over, I've had enough for one day."

Rajmael held the stick in his hands while Iron Bull picked himself up and got ready for more. "I don't know whether to be curious or disturbed by what this might be."

"Don't worry, Boss. It's just a Qunari training exercise to master one's fears." Iron Bull assured.

"Oh, good. For a moment I thought this was what you did to get your rocks off before sex." Rajmael sighed with relief.

"No, no. For that I use something...thicker." Rajmael stood there with a disturbed look on his face while a cricket chirped in the background. "Look, just hit me with the damned stick already!"

Rajmael held the stick like he would his sword and smacked it against Iron Bull's buff chest.

"Oh, yeah! That's what I'm talking about!" Iron Bull grunted through the pain. Rajmael hit him again. And again. "Damned demons!" *THWACK!* "Think you can take me on!?" *THWACK!* "The Iron fucking Bull!?" *THWACK!*

"But they didn't, did that? You sent them back to the Fade, crying like little girls." Rajmael encouraged between hits.

"Fuck yeah, I did!" Iron Bull shouted. "But the best part, was watching the Hero of Ferelden fuck their shit up like a pissed off, rabid dog! Wish you could've seen it boss."

"I've seen Aedan Cousland, the real one, in action before. Once upon a future." Rajmael reminded. "The genuine article beats the shit out of the stories."

"Did you know the Qunari talk about him?" Iron Bull asked after getting hit in the stomach. "The new Arishok fought alongside the guy, even said he was equal to Qunoran Vehl, One Who Is an Example To Others. That got him instant recognition by the rest of Qunari."

"Yeah? What else do they say about him?"

"That if possible, not to screw with him. 'Cause he'll fuck your day up." Iron Bull gritted through his teeth. "Something those demons and that Vint asshole, Erimond, learned the hard way."

After leaving slight bruising on the giant oxman, Rajmael finally relented.

"Whoo! Thanks, boss. I needed that." Iron Bull thanked like it was nothing.

"Any time, Bull."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go find a thicker pole."

Rajmael suddenly felt the desperate need to take a bath.

~XoXoXo~

The elven Inquisitor found himself in back in the garden standing before the shrine dedicated to the Creators. He thanked Mythal and Andruil for granting him victory at Adamant. He praised Dirthamen for helping him regain the memories he had lost, and gaining new knowledge to fight against his enemy. Rajmael also said a prayer to Falon'din to watch and protect Stroud in the Beyond, the brave Warden deserved more than that, but it was the best Rajmael could do. He even whispered a prayer to Fen'harel and thanked the Dread Wolf for not bearing his teeth against him.

"Greetings, Herald of Andraste." Mother Giselle addressed.

"Good day, Mother Giselle." Rajmael returned as he finished his prayers.

"Your victory at Adamant has quickly reached the ears of the people. I am grateful that you were able to save the Wardens from furthering Corypheus' plans. A vigil will be held tonight for those who did not survive, both the Inquisition soldiers and the Grey Wardens."

"Somehow, I don't think there's going to be a whole lot of sympathy for the Grey Wardens, considering what they almost did." Rajmael stated pragmatically.

"From what I understand, the Grey Wardens were manipulated by Corypheus to do such terrible things against their will. That makes them victims as much as everyone else effected by this war." Mother Giselle spoke with kindness and understanding. "All those who suffered from that creature's hands are deserving of peace and forgiveness."

"Well, let me know if there's anything you need to carry out the service."

"There is one more thing. I understand from Sister Leliana that you freed the Grey Warden mages with the aid of a spirit that took the form of Divine Justinia. I understand that the truth is much more complicated, but no less extraordinary. I suspect many of the faithful would be curious to know what she said to you."

Rajmael finished placing a flower before each of the Creators and rose from the shrine. "I learned the truth. Justinia, or the spirit posing as her, helped me to remember my past. Your Maker didn't put this mark on my hand, it was grafted to me by the orb Corypheus carries. And Andraste didn't lead me out of the Fade, the figure everyone saw was Divine Justinia."

"So, it is as you have always maintained." Mother Giselle sighed, her hopes, as outlandish as they may have been, dashed. "You must feel quite vindicated."

"Oh, you're damned right I do." Rajmael confessed blatantly. "Too many people look to the Maker to solve their problems. The world is never that easy."

"You do a disservice to their faith, Inquisitor." The Chantry Mother chided. "There are far too who suffer in this cruel world of ours who look for a sign, a reason to hope, and make them believe that there is a reason behind their suffering. And that found that, in you."

"A disservice to their faith. Don't make me laugh." Rajmael dejected. "What about the disservice done to my faith, my gods? You, and everyone like you, who declared me the Herald of Andraste, and look to me as the symbol of your Maker's favor, is an insult to my gods."

"Your people have your own faith, your own mysterious, I know. You've made your stance on this matter quite clear." Mother Giselle maintained. "Perhaps your gods are myths, or perhaps they are extensions of what we know as the Maker...

"Don't you dare call the Creators 'myths' or your Maker to them in front of me, Giselle." Rajmael warned. "That is a heinous insult, and as priest of Dirthamen, I will not tolerate such blasphemy. You and your mistaken faithful look to me for your Maker's favor, yet I have found more evidence of my gods, and have yet to see even a shred of action from yours. The Orb that Corypheus carries, this mark, and the magi I wield are all elven. At every challenge I faced, I invoked the Creators' names, and have come out victorious. Your god has no dominion over me, or my accomplishments."

"Forgive me, Inquisitor, I did not mean to cause offense." Mother Giselle expressed. "I merely meant to say that we both believe in higher power greater than ourselves, and passionate devotion to your gods is admirable. Perhaps these names that all walks of life pray to as their higher power are all merely extensions of the same divine force. There are many around this whole world who look to this higher power that guides us, make our lives have meaning. And I will continue to pray to what that power is."

"If you truly believe that, Mother Giselle, than you're more out of place with the Chantry than I am." Rajmael pointed out as he left the priestess alone in the garden. He had his fill of theological rot for today. And after what he just went through at Adamant, he needed to relax a little.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael sat alone on a high cliff overlooking Skyhold. This was where he liked to slip away and relax with his pipe, and try to forget that he is the Inquisitor. This was also the place where he buried Nethras after their duel in Nehn'numinas. Perhaps here, even in death, Nethras' spirit would still watch over him.

Rajmael lit his sylvanwood pipe and smoked his favorite lotus plant, the discoveries he made, and the things hie faced back in the Fade were still plagueing his mind. Never before had he encountered a spirit so powerful that it was able to effect him in such a manner. Perhaps he could shake it from his mind here.

At first Rajmael was merely content to watch the sunrise, but after a little while he saw a barbaric looking human wearing furs and ram horns walking up to one of the Keep's outside walls. The rather large shemlen stood there for a moment looking at the wall likie it was talking to him, then he walked off. And then he came back, carrying a goat. And then, for Creators know why, the human actually picked the goat up over his head and threw it at the wall!

That had to be the most random thing Rajmael had ever seen, and it was funny as all hell. "Ha! Bet you can't do better than that!"

The human probably didn't hear him, but he needed no encouragement. He went and grabbed another goat then *SPLAT!* he threw it against the wall, leaving a splattered bloodstain on the bricks.

Rajmael gave the shemlen seven points for height, five points for distance, but eight points for force. This might actually be just what he needed to take his mind off things. This barbarian made this things fly and smash against the building like Angry Birds.

After a while of watching this random gargantuan sized human paint the side wall with goat's, blood Rajmael heard the familiar footfall from the proud, authoritative yet humble stride that could only belong to Cassandra and her shapely legs. This might put a damper on his entertainment.

"I thought I would find you here." Cassandra said with a hint of disapproval in her voice.

"Wait just a moment Cassandra, this might be a new high score." The two of them watched the random assailant on the Keep's cosmetic integrity grab another goat by the horn. This one flew the farthest, hit the hardest and left the biggest stain of all when it smashed against the wall. "Aha-a! I give that throw a perfect ten!"

"Really, Rajmael? This is what you're doing in spare time?" Cassandra asked incredulously.

Rajmael chukled smoke from between his lips. "Did you come all the way out here just to scold me, Cassandra?"

"No. It's just…would you like some company?" Cassandra voice was sincere.

"Nothing would make me happier right now."

Cassandra sat herself next to her lover and held his hand, while that random guy wearing the goat horns kept hitting Skyhold with goats.

"I…I still don't comprehend what we saw in the Fade. The Divine, or what we appeared to be the Divine. I've been wrapping my mind around ever since we returned, and I still can't wrap my mind around it." Cassandra confessed. Ever since they returned from the Fade she had been trying to balance both her faith and her reason to determine what they encountered. "Could that have truly been the Divine we saw in the Fade?"

"What do you think it was?"

"The Chantry teaches that the souls of the departed pass through the Fade, so it could have been the Divine. Yet, even so..."

Rajmael could sense the doubt in Cassandra reasoning. "Do you truly believe that what we encountered might have been the ghost of Divine Justinia?"

"A ghost, a remnant of her hopes and memories, her lingering will to do good...all those are possible. No one knows for certain what happens after we die." Cassandra admitted. "It could have been a spirit that assumed her form...but why? It helped you, just as Justinia herself would have."

"If that was a reflection of who Justinia truly was as person, then perhaps it doesn't matter what that itself spirit was." Rajmael suggested with his pipe clenched in his teeth.

"It matters to me." Cassandra insisted. "How am I to understand this? I am no priest or philosopher, I am a warrior. And matters such as these, where my faith cannot give me answers is frustrating to me."

"Isn't that the point of having faith?" Rajmael reminded. "Try thinking of it like this, Cassandra: in the end, our lives are just leaves in the wind, the only thing that matters is the actions we took in our lives and the effect it has even after we're gone. And in the end, Justinia's life had meaning, even after her death."

"That...does give me comfort. More than you'd think." Cassandra admitted.

"As a priest, I can say with full confidence that no priest, no matter their faith or rank, knows for certain what happens when we die. So I understand your doubts more than most would believe. And truth be told, I'm still trying to come to terms with what I saw in the Fade as well."

Cassandra noticed the disturbed, forlorn look on Rajmael's face. She recalled how the Nightmare conjured Rajmael's deepest fears. To be a champion of the faith and the Chantry was the dream of so many, even she dreamed of such an accomplishment when she was young. But Rajmael was proud to be an elf, loved his culture, and was piously devoted to his elven gods. To be declared Champion of the Chantry and loyal servant of the Maker would have been the ultimate betrayal to his people.

Then Cassandra remembered the images the Nightmare conjured to weaken Rajmael's resolve. Nethras, the brother Rajmael was forced to kill. Nethras wanted to kill millions of people to take back everything the elves had lost, to give his daughter a better life and avenge the sins that were committed against his people. Rajmael killed his own brother to protect the very people who brought them both so much pain. And then that retched demon conjured up the image of Evanura, the mother of his godchild, the first woman he loved.

Cassandra remembered the look in Rajmael's eyes when he saw Evanura, even though it was only an illusion of her. The Seeker felt a slight pang of jealousy run through her heart at that memory. Rajmael spoke of Evanura with such adoration and affection, but Cassandra never comprehended how beautiful she was. She didn't know women could even be that beautiful. Evanura looked so graceful and resplendent, it made Cassandra self-conscious of her own appearance and doubtful of her own femininity. How could she compare to someone like her?

"That woman we saw in the Fade. Was that truly Evanura?" Cassandra asked curiously.

Rajmael took a long, sad drag of his sylvanwood pipe. "Yes, and no, not at all. The Nightmare conjured an image of someone I held dearly and tried to use it against me, to tempt me long enough to kill us all. But in my heart I knew that it was not Evanura."

"You were not fooled for an instant, but I know you were shocked. How...did you know that it wasn't her?"

Rajmael chuckled and smoke billowed from his mouth. "It was painfully obvious! Evanura was far more than just her beauty. For starters, she was left handed. And she wouldn't have bothered trying to convince me of anything, she would have just slapped me silly, then drag me out of the Fade by my ear while she bitched into it."

Cassandra could hardly believe her ears, but it brought a smile to her face. "You...you're serious? That's what she would have done?"

"Oh, yes. Evanura was not the 'Damsel in Distress' kind of woman." Rajmael laughed, and then there was deep sadness in his eyes. "But...the most obvious sign that that wasn't Evanura was...how she tried to tempt me into staying in the Fade by being with her."

That came as a huge surprise to Cassandra. "Oh? What...what do you mean? Isn't that what you would have wanted?"

"Yes. Once upon a time." Rajmael voice was laced with sorrow. "But the sad fact was...as much as I loved her, she did not love me the same way. Her heart was for Nethras, and Nethras only."

Now Cassandra was truly shocked. How could any woman, especially another elf not accept Rajmael's love? "But...but why? Did she not know how you felt? Why would she choose Nethras over you?"

"Oh, she knew. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not very subtle about how I feel. She chose Nethras over me because...he was the better man. Everything I am is because of those two."

"What...what was Evanura like?" Cassandra finally asked.

"Hmm. She was strong, independent, and she refused to let anyone define her. Despite being one of our best warriors, she followed the Path of The Healer, the Vir Atishan. And she loved to ride her halla through the forest glens, it made her feel truly happy to be Dalish." Rajmael looked to Cassandra with affection in his golden eyes and gently held her hand. "Nothing that the Nightmare said was true, Cassandra. I love you the same way I loved Evanura. You are more than just a Seeker or a Pentaghast to me."

Rajmael's words set Cassandra's heart and doubts at ease. How foolish could she be to ever let a demon's words make her doubt what she felt about Rajmael? If there was ever any proof that the Maker was looking out for her, he was it.

The two would have gladly stayed there holding hands, and basking in the beautiful sunrise over the Frostback mountains...if it wasn't for the damned goats. They heard another goat get smashed against the Keep's wall, and Cassandra remembered why she was looking for him in the first place. Their personal time would have to come later after duties were tended to.

"Perhaps we should continue this later, Rajmael. When there are no...distractions." Cassandra said blushingly. "You have other, ahem, obligations today."

"Aww! Come on, Cassandra!" The Inquisitor whined. "Can't we just stay here and watch this muscle-bound loon keep chucking goats at the walls? It's the funniest thing I've seen since Vivienne got sucker-punched by that spirit pretending to be Aedan Cousland."

"Rajmael..." Cassandra practically scolded.

"Oh, fine." Rajmael whined. The two of them made their way back down to Skyhold. And fifteen minutes later, some Inquisition soldiers came and arrested the goat-slinging lunatic for assaulting the integrity of Skyhold with livestock.

In The Skyhold Throne Room...

This was possibly the worst, scariest place to be in Thedas right now. To be standing before the Throne of The Inquisitor, awaiting his personal judgment. Whatever crime one committed to warrant being here was so grave that all the sovereign powers of Southern Thedas would defer to Rajmael's ruling. Any and all who stood here would pray for his mercy and fear his wrath. It was not a duty Rajmael took lightly, for this was a position that was as close to godlike as any mortal could truly get. His decisions, his will would determine the outcome of a persons life, their destiny and reflect on the Inquisition. Anything the accused was, and all they would ever be, rested in his scarred hands.

Lovely Josephine stood before the throne with her ever present clipboard in hand as though it were a part of her very being. And Inquisitor Lavellan slouched in his grand throne, resting his head on his hand with contempt with where his ass was sitting.

"Forgive me, Inquisitor, I know how much you dislike all this courtly ceremony, but there are many from your dealings and encounters on your missions that waiting your pending judgement." The Ambassador reminded. She saw the look of discomfort in Rajmael's eyes and recognized it. It was one she had seen in the eyes of many monarchs and people of authority who took their power to pass judgment on to others seriously. "I urge you to remember that justice has many tools, and you can still refer to us for advice on these matters."

Rajmael sighed dismally and mentally prepared himself. "Alright, let's get this party started. Bring in this first case."

"As you wish." Josephine scrawled down her clipboard as the guards brought in the first prisoner of the day. "First we have Chief Movran the Under. Chieftian of the Avvar clan who repeatedly, and without provocation, tried to kill you in the Fallow Mire. I believe you are the one who found him assaulting the Keep. With a...goat."

Rajmael took a moment to look at this gruff-looking, rather large Avvar wearing ram horns and leather armor stitched with iron. He smelled like the goats he was throwing. "You ASSHOLE! What've you got against the goats?"

The Avvar warrior chuckled in deep, guttural voice like it was an echo in a cave. "A courtroom? Unnecessary! I merely answered the deaths of my clan and kin, as is Avvar custom, by smacking your Hold with goat's blood."

"You answered the deaths of your clan who I killed by giving my fortress a...paint job?" Rajmael looked over to Josephine in confusion.

"Don't look at me. You've dealt with the Avvar more than I have." Josephine waved off.

"There's no foul between us, Herald." Movran promised heartily. "My idiot son meant to go off and murder Tevinters, but he got feisty with your Inquisition to test the mettle of your gods against ours, as though he were capable of such an honor. A redheaded mother guarantees a brat." The chieftain's laugh echoed through the whole Keep; he had absolutely no fear for his fate. "My clan yields, and my remaining sons still have brains in their skulls. Do what you will Herald, you've earned it."

Well this was most unexpected. Chief Movran could have called a blood feud if he wanted, for the death of his son and kinsman, but instead chose to do what appeared to be a minor insult instead. And then he willingly yielded to the Inquisition's authority. From what Rajmael understood, the Avvar respect strength and will, and believe all outcomes of honor are determined by the gods. Perhaps Rajmael could make use of such staunch people. "Chief Movran, your son tested the will of your gods against mine, and was found wanting. There are none can contest that. But the true strength of your gods has yet to be proven. You, and your entire clan, will test the might of your gods against the god of the Venatori. And then the whole world will know which gods deserve reckoning."

"Ha! My idiot son got us something from this after all! May Hakkon Wintersbreath grant you victory, and enemies death, Inquisitor!" Chief Movran the Under laughed like thunder as the guards undid his shackles and led him out of the keep.

~XoXoXo~

A short time later, the guards brought a very familiar, and very harried Magister before Rajmael. The Tevinter mage's hands were bound so that he couldn't cast any spells, and there were Templars present as extra precaution. Grand-Enchanter Fiona and her fellow mages stood present, looking at the prisoner with anger and utter contempt in their eyes. For them this judgment couldn't come sooner. Dorian also stood present, but the look his eyes was one of immense pity and regret.

"Before you stands Magister Gerion Alexius of House Alexius from the Minrathous Circle of Magi." Josephine reintroduced. "Ferelden has given him to us for sentencing as acknowledgment of your aid. The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, the use of forbidden magiks for conquest, his involvement with the Venatori, and by extension, the destruction of the Conclave, usurpation of Redcliffe from Arl Tegan, and of course, assassination. On you, no less." Josephine took a moment to catch her breath after listing all those charges at once. "In light of these charges, Tevinter has officially disowned Alexius and stripped him of his rank. His fate lies solely in your hands, Inquisitor."

Rajmael observed the former Magister chained before him. He no longer stood with that sense entitlement and authority, but slumped over like a tired old man. The pride that once glinted in his eyes had now glossed over with deep sorrow and was surrounded by dark, tearful circles. This was not the same man who stole Redcliffe Castle, but more akin to the Rajmael and Aedan killed in that dark future.

"Dorian. For obvious reasons, I must ask you to say and do nothing in this hearing, given your personal history and past relationship with Alexius." Rajmael informed.

"Oh, don't worry, Inquisitor. Given what he's done, I doubt there's anything I can or do that can save him at this point." Dorian stated with regret but understanding.

Rajmael turned his attention back to the former Magister. "Your crimes are numerous and damning, Alexius. If you have anything to say on your behalf, I suggest you say it now, because no one is coming to save you now."

"I couldn't save my son! You think my own fate matters to me!?" Alexius almost wailed.

"Will you offer nothing more in your defense?" Josephine asked sympathetically.

"You've won nothing!" Alexius cursed. "The people you saved, the acclaim you've gathered...you'll lose it all in the storm to come."

"Oh, I don't know, I seem to be weathering the storm pretty well so far." Rajmael mocked. Everything Alexius did, he did it to save his son. As Eva's adopted father, Rajmael knew the pain and fear of losing his child as much as Alexius did, and no parent should ever outlive their children. But in that future, Alexius didn't save his son, but condemned him to a fate worse than death, and brought ruin to the world. There can be no justification for that. "Your son accepted his fate, but you couldn't. And in your selfishness you would have condemned tens of thousands to unspeakable horrors and destruction. You promised to aid the mages, and I will see you uphold that promise. Any and all coin, property and treasure you own will go towards the mages' future. Josephine will draw up the papers and you will sign them. You will surrender any information you know of the Elder One and his Venatori. And you will serve the rest of your time by aiding Arcanist Dagna to understand the forbidden magic that the Venatori use, and the magic you used in Redcliffe." The Inquisitor glared at Alexius, his golden eyes burning dangerously. "In other words, Alexius: I basically own you now."

"A headsman would have been kinder." Alexius stated sourly.

"I know, right? Now get, please, get out of my sight."

~XoXoXo~

The next man to be brought before the Inquisitor for judgment was an old man, at least in his fifties. His hair was greying severely, and fear gripped his Fereldan features. This scared man hardly looked like the sort of criminal that should be judged by the Inquisitor, but his crimes were so severe that many would so the most heinous punishments inflicted on him.

"Mayor Gregory Dedrick is present for betraying his own constituents, a crime he confessed to on paper." Josephine stated. "He confesses that ten years ago, he flooded Old Crestwood to kill refugees and villagers that were tainted with the Blight. His only defense is that he did it to save the rest of he villagers from contracting the Blight, but we only have his word."

Rajmael leaned forward in his throne to better hear the man. "For ten years you've kept your crime a secret, and you only confessed to it when it became clear that we were getting close to the truth. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"There is no cure for the Blight, but I couldn't convince a villager to leave a sick spouse or child behind." The former mayor defended pitiably. "If I didn't do...what I did, everyone would have died."

"So you herded the sick and dying into one place, and then flooded Old Crestwood? Were no innocents harmed?" Josephine questioned.

"Nearly everyone in the village had the Blight, I swear it! Please have mercy, my lord. I couldn't tell the villagers I drowned their own families to save them. I...I just couldn't!"

This was a tragic matter indeed. Rajmael never experienced the Blight, but everyone knows how horrible it can be, and this poor man was right in the middle of it with no one to save his people. It doesn't change the fact that he condemned his own people, people he trusted to a horrible fate by drowning in those dark, cold caves, clawing at the walls screaming for aid.

"Is there anyone present here who would speak on Mayor Dedrick's behalf or against it?" Rajmael asked.

"This man murdered over a hundred people, his own people, and then he lied about it for ten years. His crimes cannot be ignored." Blackwall affirmed with a grudge in his voice.

"Yeah!" Sera agreed. "I'll bet none of his family was in those drippy caverns!"

"After what I saw happen to Felix, I don't think anyone should have to suffer a fate like that. He did what he could with the only options available to him." Dorian defended.

"I fought in the Blight, and I've seen the horrid things it does to those who are tainted. It is beyond nightmarish." Leliana reminded with terrible memories behind her eyes. "As cold and cruel as it may seem, drowning was probably a mercy compared to the alternative."

"A most practical attitude, Leliana dear." Vivienne exclaimed in her haughty tone. "It was an extreme situation, and it he killed the few to save the many, then it was the most pragmatic thing to do. I doubt we would have discovered his crime if he hadn't confessed."

"The times were desperate, and many terrible things are done in the name of survival with the greater good in mind." Cullen spoke out. "But if he truly believed that what he did was the right thing, he would have stuck by it and confessed his crime, instead of hiding it like a guilty criminal."

Rajmael sat for a moment and contemplated what his companions said, and what Mayor Dedrick pleaded. He had seen darkspawn and ghouls when they were fighting on the Storm Coast, and he knew for a fact that he would rather die than be turned into one of those things thick with rot and taint, serving the darkspawn's vile will. But what if Eva contracted the Blight? Would he not do anything to save her? There was only one solution where darkspawn and absolution walked hand in hand.

"Gregory Dedrick, what you did, you did it to save the lives of the rest of the people in Crestwood, and it also stopped the Blight from spreading in that region of Ferelden. However, your crimes cannot be ignored. You murdered those people, and then you lied to the survivors about the truth." Rajmael stated as fact. "The Blight drove you to be a criminal out of necessity. Now it will be your redemption. I sentence you to join the Grey Wardens, where you will fight the darkspawn until your dying days."

"I...I am not worthy of such an honor, Your Worship." The Mayor wept. "But...I shall strive to be. Until the Maker, and the Blight, take me."

This seemed to be an acceptable decision by all those present, Blackwall approved especially. Solas, on the other hand, was the only one who seemed disappointed with the decision. Rajmael waved his hand and the guards took the former Mayor now Warden Recruit to the Grey Wardens, where he would undergo the Joining. Perhaps he would find his redemption in the Order of The Grey, like so many before him had.

~XoXoXo~

An elder woman now stood before the Throne of The Inquisition. Despite her noble bearing, she wore faded, outdated Orlesian styled furs. Not out of fashion's sake, like most nobles, but because it was the only thing she had left. The old woman stood firm but afraid, praying for the Inquisitor's mercy, but ready for his judgment.

"For the next case, Inquisitor, I submit Mistress Poulin of Sahrnia, who you yourself arrested on charges of aiding and abetting the Red Templars in the Dales, and, by extension, partaking in slavery." Josephine listed. "She sold a quarry to them for a handsome sum, and used it to grow red lyrium by enslaving the townspeople. Many of the townspeople who were captured were used to grow lyrium from their own bodies. Her only extenuating circumstance: she used the supplies given to her by the Red Templars to aid the remaining townspeople."

Oh, how Rajmael remembered this case. The memory of euthanizing Lina, a small elven girl no older than Eva, because she had been infected with red lyrium and was in such horrible agony, still plagued Rajmael's mind. As it stood, Rajmael find it a little difficult to remain impartial in this case. "If there is anything you think you can say that will help you, I suggest you say it now."

"Please, my crime was misjudgment! The land sale was meant to bring prosperity in harsh times!" Mistress Poulin pleaded.

"Surely, it must have been clear that you were selling to the enemy." Josephine insinuated.

"We were starving! With the river frozen and the war raging, our option were limited." The accused protested. "Selling the quarry was a mistake, one I tried to rectify."

"You tried to rectify aiding the Templars by continuing to sell your own people to them?" Rajmael questioned. "That's not very redeeming from where I sit."

"No one was coming to our aid when we needed them, even we were forced to start eating boot leather!" Poulin defended staunchly. "Celene and Gaspard were too busy fighting each other to even know we existed. Yes, I continued to accept supplies from the Red Templars in exchange for taking more villagers, but everything I did was so that I could save those I could! If we fought back or resisted, the Templars would have slaughtered most of the village and taken the rest, and no one would be left. Now tell, me what do you judge me for?"

The Inquisitor sat back in throne, his hands folded contemplatively. "Is there any here would speak on Mistress Poulin's behalf, or against her?"

"Her error in judgment caused many of those who looked to her for protection, and died in terrible agony." Solas reminded spitefully. "If they suffered for her mistake, then why shouldn't she?"

"Being turned into fertilizer to grow red lyrium by a Desire Demon? That's got to be amongst my Top Ten and my list of Worst Ways To Die In Horrible Agony." Varric stated. "Trust me, I know."

"These were extreme circumstances, Inquisitor. Mistress Poulin was the only one acting to protect those people. With the river frozen, no way of escape and no way to feed everyone, she did the best she could to save who she could." Cassandra reminded.

"Scared, hungry, desperate. How will we feed the children? How many are sick? How can I save them. She tried to save as many as she could and weeps for those she couldn't." Cole whispered.

"I don't know, maybe cut her a little slack boss?" Iron Bull suggested. "You can't always save everyone, sometimes you have to save who you can."

These were fair arguments. Mistress Poulin was pushed into an unfair, desperate position. And he had to remind himself that ultimately it was the Red Templars' fault for putting her in that situation. But justice must be met, the spirits of those she sent to die deserved something. "Your crime was desperation and ignorance of those you dealt with. That also makes you a victim, but neither I, nor the people you sent to die can just let you walk away..."

The noblewoman was shaking where she stood, ready to say her prayers and for mercy.

"Mistress Poulin, you will spend the rest of your ill-gotten money, and your life, to rebuild Sarhnia. You will ensure that the people are taken care of and return prosperity to the town. If the townspeople forgive you, that's their business. But if you fail to meet these requirments, you will be brought before me once again, and no one will defend you."

A sense of relief and jubilation came over the Mistress Poulin. "I swear! I swear, I won't squander this chance you've given me, Inquisitor. I will make up for what I've done, I promise!"

The guards undid her chains and escorted the pardoned Poulin out of the Keep, and to her salvation.

~XoXoXo~

The entire hall was filled with hated whispers and deathly glares, this next prisoner had earned the universal hatred and animosity of all those present. Even the most charitable soul here would probably relish in this man's prolonged, painful suffering. This man had earned nothing less.

Magister Erimond was dragged before the court on a leash, considering how he had been...disarmed. The Venatori mage clumsily stepped forward with every jerk of the leash around his neck. Tourniquets were tied tightly around the stumps where his arms used to be, and his empty sleeves dangled pitiful from his uniform. The whole court of the Inquisition looked down on the mangled mage with contempt and disgust, and he returned the mutual feelings with a sneer. Perhaps what truly angered everyone was, not only had he disgraced one of the most revered orders in all of Thedas, and was now missing both of his arms as a consequence, he still had that haughty demeanor as if his shit didn't stink. The guards that pulled him in took notice of his attitude and gave his leash a good, sharp pull that made the Venatori kiss the carpet, to the delight of the court, and the anger of Erimond who was now struggling to stand back up again.

"One of the many unfortunate effect of Adamant, My Lord." Josephine started with an unusual tone of distaste in her mouth. "I submit Magister Livius Erimond of the Vyrantium Circle who remains loyal to Corypheus. He is brought before to face justice for the suffering he caused you when you were sent into the Fade."

Rajmael put a sly smile across his lips. "Well, I hope none of this has effected your ability to play the violin."

"Silence!" Erimond shrieked like a chastised child. "I am a Magister of the True Imperium, and a servant to a real god! I will NOT be made a fool of!"

"You know what? You're right. I'm so sorry, that was immature of me. What do you say we shake on it and forget this whole thing happened." Rajmael mockingly extended his hand out. "Oh, I'm sorry I forgot about your little handicap." Laughter passed through the halls and it seemed to have angered the armless mage. While Rajmael took great pleasure seeing the fanatical son of a bitch in a humiliating state, it still pissed him off that that the Magister still had that arrogant look in his eye.

"Mock me if you will, but I recognize none of these proceedings." Erimond sneered in defiance. "You have no authority over me."

Josephine snorted at that comment. "On the contrary, both Tevinter and the Order of the Grey have deferred to the Inquisitor's judgment on this matter, lest you face any of their more...colorful sentences."

"You've accomplished nothing, Usurper!" Erimond called out. "I serve a living god! And he will reward my loyalty in the next world. Pass your sentence and return me to him."

Rajmael had to admit, it was kind of funny seeing this gimp try to be a tough guy without half of his limbs, but his loyalty to his master was getting annoying, and he wanted to make this maggot suffer for what he pushed the Wardens into. "It's funny how you think I should be scared of a god that has been defined only by his repeated failures. Haven, Halamshiral and now Adamant. He couldn't even kill me with that pet dragon of his, or an army of demons."

Erimond glared angrily, but was at a loss for words.

"You're a vile waste of life, and it shames me that you still live while worthier people do not. You deserve only the cruelest of ends, and so I will be cruel." Rajmael damned. "I sentence you to the Crow's Cage over the cliff beneath Skyhold, where the birds and maggots will eat you alive. Good luck keeping them out of your eyes and mouth without your arms."

"This isn't the end, your knife-eared bastard!" Erimond spat as the guards dragged him away. "The Elder One will come for you, and his vengeance will be terrible!"

"He'll have to stop hiding to do that." Rajmael stated. "But you won't live long enough to see it."

~XoXoXo~

The visiting nobles were painted with shocked expressions and scandalized gossip amongst themselves blew through them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was filled with outrage and anger. This next prisoner had elicited a storm of controversy and anger that shook all the nobility in Orlais, and was now at the center of everyone's attention. But this was not the manner in which she intended to achieve such an accomplishment.

The guards dragged the disgraced noble before the throne, but a squad of archers held ready in the rafters in case she tried anything. None were willing to risk any chances with this bitch.

"I don't think introductions are necessary for this accused. Her crime, capture and disgrace has become quite famous." Josephine began. "Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons, though her title rings hollow, considering it, and everything else she possesses, are at risk of forfeiture. You spared her life, despite the treacherous crimes she wished to commit, and the harm she wished to inflict on you. As a sign of friendship, and recognition of your authority, Empress Celene has decreed that her fate be left to you, Inquisitor Lavellan."

Rajmael smiled at Florianne with smug triumph. "Welcome to my party, Florianne. Don't look so glum. Smile, wave to all the people who've gathered to see you. You're at the center of attention, just like you wanted."

"Peh." Florianne scoffed arrogantly.

"Despite her posture, she has acknowledged your authority." Josephine informed.

"Shall I curse you on behalf of the Elder One, like that fool Erimond? I realize that Corypheus had no intention of honoring the concordats that I manipulated." Florianne resigned with all the haughty arrogance of an Orlesian noblewoman. "Do as you must. I praise your mastery of the Game, even as I despise your victory. Celene does not know her fortune."

That mocking look in Rajmael's eyes was replaced with utter contempt, and he felt that thing scratching at the back of his mind. "Even disgraced as you are, a traitor and would-be kinslayer, you still have the audacity to speak as if you were getting a slap on the wrist?"

"Shall I curtsy then, and beg for your mercy, Inquisitor?"

"No. You will kneel before me, like the simpering bitch you are, and pray to whatever god will bother with someone as pathetic as you." The Inquisitor stood with his eyes burning dangerously. As he approached the disgraced duchess the room grew dark, and his aura became more menacing, like a demonic specter. Florianne finally buckled under her fear, and shakily went to her knees. "You dare to act so arrogantly in front of me when you were willing to let Corypheus destroy this world, and murder your own kin, all so you could benefit from the destruction and suffering of others? Well, now you will suffer. As the Lord Inquisitor, I confiscate any and all property and wealth you possess to be redistributed to the impoverished people of Halamshiral. And you, Floriann de Chalons, I sentence you to labor your life away in grueling obscurity in a far away quarry. You will work until your back breaks, your hands bleed and you're boiling in your own sweat. And then you'll work some more. Poor, unaccomplished, and forgotten."

"Wait. Please, Inquisitor, reconsider!" The former duchess begged as the guards dragged her away to her new life of hardship. "Please, I can put my skills and contacts to work in your service! I can give you what I know about the Venatori! Please!"

But her pleads fell on deaf ears as Rajmael sat back in his throne and watched with cold indifference as they took her away. "You fool. You should have been happy with what you already had."

Later that evening...

With The Inquisitor's judgment's rendered, the sentences carried out, and justice met, the Skyhold Court Room soon emptied and everyone resumed the duties and business here. Almost everyone was gathering outside Skyhold to oversee the vigil Mother Giselle was carrying out to honor those who were lost at Adamant, Inquisition and Grey Wardens alike. As the Inquisitor, Rajmael was obligated to join them when it started.

To his welcomed surprise, he found Hawke, Varric, Merrill and Isabella all gathered around the fireplace in the Main Keep.

"Andaran atishan, Inquisitor." Merrill greeted respectfully. "It's good to see an elf being so important. So many of the People are so proud."

"Aneth'ara, Lethallan." Rajmael returned. "From what Varric's told, you have done well protecting our people after what happened in Kirkwall. You also do the elves proud." Merrill blushed from the Inquisitor's praise.

"Hey, Inquisitor. Why don't you come join us for a moment." Varric invited.

"We were raising a glass in honor of Stroud." Hawke informed. "Would you care to join us?"

"I'd be honored to raise a glass with you all." That was putting it mildly. Drinking with the Champion of Kirkwall? That's one dream come true scratched off his list now.

"Here's to Stroud, and the rest of our little band of misfits, freaks, and ne'er-do-wells who could not be here, and everyone else we lost. Bethany, Aveline, and Fenris." Hawke toasted.

"Chins up, booze down." Isabella called, and they downed their drinks at once. Merrill hiccupped but held her liquor surprisingly well.

"Ooh, Kitten, you handled that so well." Isabella praised. "Have you been practicing?"

"I...started trying it more when you showed me what...body shots are." Merrill answered blushingly.

"So, Hawke, you'll be heading to the Anderfells after tonight?" Rajmael asked.

"To Weisshaupt Fortress in Hossberg, yes." The Champion answered. "I need to let the Grey Wardens them know what transpired here in the South, and make sure that they are not caught unawares. Maybe I'll even learn more about our enemy there."

"Hmm. And this your way of saying farewell, Varric?"

"Andraste's knickers, no." Varric denied. "That would imply that I won't see any of 'em again. This is more of a...'See Ya Later' kind of gathering."

"Heh. Varric has never been very good with goodbyes." Hawk spoke. "I've told him my plans and he's just going to wait for me to return with a mug of beer ready, and more than likely add more than a few embellishes to both of our exploits."

Yeah, that did seem like what Varric would do. "What about your lady friends?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty head about me, Your Holiness." Isabella winked. "I'll be here offering Sister Nightingale my...talented services."

Merrill held Hawkes hand tightly and leaned into him. "I'll be staying with Ma Vhenan. We've been apart for too long, and I don't want to lose him again."

Rajmael had to admit, Hawke, The Champion of Kirkwall, wasn't exactly what he had imagined. Yes, he was a great warrior from what he had seen, and the ladies all seemed to flock to him like buzzards to a carcass, but Hawke just seemed so…normal at the same time. Always acting with humility and genuine concern for those around him, with the courage to say what's right, regardless of the consequences and with a good swordarm to back it up. Thedas could use more people like him.

"It's been an honor, Champion." Rajmael said extending his hand to the human warrior.

"The honor has been all mine." Garrett replied taking the mage's hand in his own, shaking it. "When you kill Corypheus, let him know the Hawke family wishes him the best."

"Will do." Rajmael pointed to the door invitingly. "The service is about to begin. Let us honor our dead before we set back to our adventures."

"Oh, there's one more thing I wanted to give you." Hawke reached into his pocket and handed Rajmael an ancient, but masterfully crafted amulet. "When I first defeated Corypheus, I pulled this off his body. Amulets like these were reserved only for High Priests of the Old Gods. In this case, it was to honor Dumat, the Old God of Silence. It was belonged to Corypheus. Perhaps you'll learn more from it than I did."

Rajmael studied the foreign, strange looking amulet. It felt like this thing was made out of dragonbone with lyrium circling inside it. The sides were had a geometrical groove inside, like the tumblers of a door lock on one side, and the teeth of a key on the other. On the face of the amulet was some kind of intricate design of a dragon standing amongst stars with its wings spread open. Rajmael felt filthy for even touching something that belonged to Corypheus, but perhaps it would come in useful later.

~XoXoXo~

The sun was beginning to dim, making the sky a vibrant array of colors. Blood red, golden yellow, and bright orange pressing against a black-blue canvas. Mother Giselle and several priests stood around a massive funeral pyre that blazed with gentle intensity. This bright, roaring flame that could be seen clear across the Frostbacks was meant to honor the memory of all those who had died. Many of the soldiers, castle staff, agents and nobles had gathered around to pay their respects.

All the Grey Wardens gathered around the fire, kneeling in both respect and regret. For it was by their hands that this funeral was made possible, the many soldiers they killed, and all of their own brethren that they killed with their own hands. Many within the crowd shot hateful glares at the Wardens for all the death they caused, and would have caused, and the Wardens deserved it. All many of them could hope for now, was a way to make up for this disgrace. The Inquisition was their best chance.

Mother Giselle stood before the pyre and in front of the crowd. "Let us bow our heads, and remember those brave many that gave their lives at Adamant, who died so that we might not. Let us also reach out to those who have unknowingly wronged us, who now stand with us as brothers and sister, and forgive them as the Maker forgives all. Let us pray for the strength to carry on, and continue on our righteous cause, so that the deaths of all those before us will not be in vain. So let it be."

"So let it be." The crowd repeated and finished the prayer.

The Iron Bull and his Chargers rose their flasks and drank in respect, while Blackwall stood with his fellow Wardens and gave a flawless salute. Cole hid in the shadows, silently watching the vigil, and feeling every ounce of sadness, regret and respect that every soul here was feeling, and wished he could help all of them. Sera fidgeted uncontrollably where she stood, wishing she was somewhere else. The Red Jenny didn't like being around everyone being all sad and depressed as they were. Vivienne watched from her balcony, looking at all the people beneath her with a glass of wine in hand, while Dorian stood in the back reciting a prayer under his breath. Solas found himself away from everyone and watched in humble silence.

Hawke stood next to Merrill as she held him close to her. Isabella snuck in and silently pressed herself closely to the Champion. Both women's hearts were filled with so much joy to still have the man they loved with them. Hawke held his Pirate Queen and his Dalish Love close, whispering how much he loved them, and made a promise to never leave them. Varric stood nearby his friends, and tried to hide the fact there were tears in his eyes. They lost Stroud, but at least they didn't lose Hawke. And that was the closest damned thing to a miracle he had ever seen.

Rajmael made his way over to Cassandra, and gently grabbed her hand. Cassandra warmly welcomed him. They fought in and escaped the Fade together. So many died while they did not, and it seemed wrong to be so happy in each other's presence when so many others were still suffering. But even amongst all this tragedy, everything they had lost and suffered, these two still found love with one another.

Everyone stood in respected silence in honor of the dead. Then Leliana finally remembered the words that once brought comfort to so many who were suffering loss, even after a great victory. A simple song she could never forget, and one that would best honor their fallen. Her voice carried over more beautifully and more clearly than in any chantry, and rang through out the mountains.

Of all the money that e're I had

I spent it in good company

And all the harm the e're I've done

Alas it was to none but me

And all I've done for want of wit

To memory now I can't recall

So fill to me The Parting Glass

Goodnight and joy be with you all

Of all the comrades the e're I had

They're sorry for my going away

And all the sweethearts that e're I loved

They would wish me one more day to stay

But since it falls on to my lot

That I should rise and you should not

I'll gently rise and I'll softly call "Goodnight and Joy be with you all"

A man may drink and not be drunk

A man may fight and not be slain

A man may court a pretty girl and perhaps be welcomed back again

But since it has, so ought to be

By a time to rise and a time to fall

Come fill to me The Parting Glass

Goodnight and Joy be with you all

Come fill to me The Parting Glass

Goodnight and Joy be with you all

A Short Time Later...

The funeral had ended, and everyone had retired for the evening. Rajmael returned to his quarters hoping to find Cassandra there, but alas, she had not turned in for the evening. Rajmael looked over to his desk and found a small sealed box next to the carved totems of his gods. The letter must have been delivered to him by one of Leliana's agents while he was attending the vigil. There was a crest on top of the box, white wreath in the shape of wings with an axe between theem on a blue field. It was the personal sigil of Aedan Cousland. Rajmael quickly opened the box, and was shocked by how quickly it arrived. How did Morrigan contact the Hero of Ferelden so fast? Inside the small box, Rajmael found a letter addressed to him. Rajmael recognized the handwriting, this was a letter from Aedan Cousland himself.

To Rajmael Lavellan, Lord Inquisitor to the New Inquisition,

First, allow me to convey my thanks for what you did for my country. It shames me greatly to have not been there when demons, rogue Templars, and rebel Mages were terrorizing my people and I wasn't there to defend them. And when I learned that a Magister from Tevinter had ousted Arl Teagan out of his own castle, I wanted to rip the sorry fucker's throat out with my teeth. That Vint should be happy with whatever sentence you passed on him, because I would have done far worse.

Let me also express my apologies for what the Wardens have done. I always knew Clarel was weak, and now her actions have shamed everyone who wears the Grey.

Morrigan told me everything that you've learned about Corypheus and Leliana sent me the report done by The Champion of Kirkwall, and I must say that I am beyond shocked. Not because of what this bastard seems to be, but because of how familiar this creature is to me. During the Amaranthine Crisis, my Wardens and I came across a very unique darkspawn emissary, that called itself the Architect. It was intelligent, capable of speech and incredibly powerful. Able to influence other darkspawn and even able to grant them intelligence as well, similar to an Old God. After The Mother's assault on Amaranthine, I went to the Dragonbone Wastes to slay her, and I was approached by the Architect and it proposed an alliance with me. I ripped the damned thing's head off and burned its body, but not before I looted its carcass. And what I found intrigued, and disturbed me.

I found a journal on its body, and it wrote that it had...plans for Thedas. Thirty years ago, it concocted some mad scheme to make all the peoples of Thedas coexist with the darkspawn by forcing them to take in the taint through magical means and turn everyone into ghouls, but it was stopped by my predecessor, Duncan. And then, eleven years ago, it found the Old God Urthemiel and awoke it, prompting the Blight. I had never felt more glad in killing a darkspawn when I learned this.

I also found a strange amulet on the Architect. It was beyond ancient, and I had some of the best scholars examine it. I traced its origins to Tevinter, a specific religious order within the Ancient Tevinter Imperium called The Builders. The Builders were a sect of priests dedicated to Urthemiel, The Old God of Beauty. How a darkspawn on the opposite side of the world came across such a rare, and forgotten relic, I do not know. For years I didn't realize the importance of what this meant, until Morrigan informed me of Corypheus' origins and the similarities between the Architect and this Elder One. Perhaps you can se it to find answers.

Inquisitor, if these creatures are anything alike, then they must be destroyed. Nothing good can come from these sins against nature, they ruin and violate everything they touch. I wish with all my heart and soul that I could be there to fight at your side and wipe this abomination out, from what Morrigan tells me, you are a worthy leader and a magnificent warrior, but my current quest has taken me far from this crisis. So let me pass on these words of advice: do not compromise who you are, what you believe, even in the face of doomsday. Do not push your allies aside, but don't let them dictate your actions. And finally, heed what Morrigan says. I know she can be...difficult at times, trust me, I know, but she also possesses knowledge and a sense of wisdom you will not find any where else in the world. There are very few in this world who can match her knowledge of the arcane, and she will fight to the bitter end against the enemy.

I was surprised to learn that the Inquisitor is a Dalish elf and a mage. Good. Those Chantry shit-heads have been running this world into the ground for too long. It's time someone else showed the world how its done. And the fact that you're a heathen elf must really hit the Chantry where it hurts. May your magic protect you, your mind be strong, and your sword sharp.

Now go forth and kick ass,

Aedan Cousland.

Rajmael folded the letter and felt revitalized after receiving a pep talk from the Hero of Fereden on paper. He reached into the small box and pulled out the amulet Aedan had sent. It was made of dawnstone with rubies inlaid around the face. One the face was a design of a dragon circling around and biting its tail. And the sides had a geometrical layer, like the tumblers of a door lock on one side, and the teeth of a key on the other.

Without thinking, Rajmael placed the two amulets together, and to his surprise and horror, they fit perfectly together like pieces to a puzzle, and locked together.

"No. No, no, no. Holy Dirthamen, please do not let this be true." Rajmael begged in vain as the revelation swirled through his head. One amulet belonged to Corypheus, formerly a high priest to the Old God, Dumat, and one of the seven Magisters that broke into the Fade. The second belonged to the high priest of Urthemiel, and was found in possession of a talking darkspawn with unknown magical powers and the ability to control darkspawn like an Old God. That could only mean that both the Elder One and The Architect were two of the seven magisters who created the Blight. Earlier, Dorian was trying into the genealogical history of Ancient Tevinter in the hopes of discovering Corypheus' true name. That would become his top priority.

Right now only one thought was racing through Rajmael's mind, one more frightening than Corypheus' pet dragon...

"Where are the other five Magisters who broke into the Fade?"

Language Codex:

Dirthara Banal'enaras: Elven phrase, roughly translates as "Learn humility".

Author's Note:

To all my readers and loyal fans, I am sorry that it took so long for me to update and post this chapter. It has been a crazy, busy month for me, and I was having fun playing that new DLC. I hope to get back to updating this story more regularly, but I make no promises. Please review and tell me what you think.