Notes: Song is "Peace on Earth" by U2. The verse following the one that's the chapter title is, "So the monster will not break you." After dancing on the line of it last chapter, Caitlyn goes full autocrat now… but as you will see, it does not only apply to her.
Thank you all once again for reading the story. I struggled with this chapter and I'm still not sure how well I like it. But cleanup/transitional chapters are necessary after a major event, I suppose, and that's mostly what this one is.
Chapter 47: Become a Monster
It was all Caitlyn could do to stop the Keep from falling into utter chaos. With her injuries healed from Anders' self-sacrificial blasts of healing magic, all that she faced now was mental shock from the attack—and terror for him. After waking up to hug them, he had tumbled down again in pain, the dagger still lodged in his arm, and promptly passed out once more. Some of the recovered Healers were attending to Ella or the patients who had received severe wounds and still needed some mopping up, but one who was free approached him and cut away the clothing. The Healer snarled in anger at the sight of Anders' arm. Mal saw the bleeding wound and let out another miserable cry; he seemed in shock.
The mage Healer lifted Anders gingerly to his feet and eased his lifeless body to a cot. "Your Grace, he should be fine," he tried to reassure Caitlyn and Mal. "It's deep, but nothing we can't deal with." He immediately got to work. Another Healer scrambled to her feet with pained grimaces as she rose from the floor and began to work on Anders as well.
Caitlyn swallowed her fear. "Do you think he'll still be able to use that arm?" she asked as bravely as she could manage.
"Most likely," the female Healer said.
If Justice takes him over again... She swallowed that fear too; surely the spirit would not seize control right now—and surely mages, Spirit Healers perhaps, would not be too troubled by the sight anyway. She took a deep breath and steered Mal's fixated gaze away from his father.
There is nothing more for me to do here, she thought, gazing around the wreckage of the clinic. I am not a specialist in this magic... and I need to find out what else has happened, if this was a solitary attack or there were others.
"No one else enters!" she demanded of the guards whom Aveline had sent to guard the doors to the clinic.
"Your Grace, we're very sorry; if we had searched that one's pack, this might not have happened," a guard pleaded. "We could search anyone else who comes inside... there might be patients from elsewhere in the city, if that monster did not act alone..."
"No one enters," she insisted, her gaze hard and her eyes wide. "They have plenty of work to do in there already, and I don't trust any strangers at this moment!" Holding her son close, she walked into the outer Keep.
Caitlyn locked them in the family quarters and held Mal close, sitting on a divan in the sitting room. Baldwin and Pounce ambled up. The dog sat down at Caitlyn's feet and the cat jumped on the divan, rubbing against them. That broke her. Tears began to form and leak from her eyes, and she shook as she held her son even more tightly. This upset Mal in turn.
"He's hurt and you're crying! He's going to die, isn't he?" Mal exclaimed tearfully.
A surge of guilt flooded her. She tried to dry her eyes. "No," she said feelingly, rubbing his shoulders. "He made himself tired by being a hero, casting those spells to try to save everyone. The Healers are going to take care of him until he is strong enough to fix himself. I'm crying because what happened in the clinic was so shocking."
Mal whimpered and cuddled against his mother. She held him in a looser embrace than before, closed her eyes, and tried to think calming, rational thoughts. We will have to make some changes, she thought. The patients will have to be searched. That should stop this from happening next time.
Her thoughts then shifted. This happened because of Mettin's rhetoric. Aveline thought that he and his followers were lurking in Darktown two nights ago, so they might have schemed together. Mettin might have known about this. If that assassin survived, I'm going to find out, and either way, I am going to make an example of him. Let these fanatics see what happens when they do things like this!
She and Mal cuddled each other silently, trying to comfort each other, until Aveline knocked at the door. Caitlyn admitted her. She entered, still in her armor, and stood to the side.
Caitlyn glanced quickly down at Mal, then back at Aveline inquiringly, asking her without words if he needed to leave. Aveline shook her head, and Caitlyn relaxed. "What's the news?" she asked.
"The Chantry clinic wasn't attacked," she said. "No activity in the city. The attack on the Keep appears to have been the only one."
"Any sign of Mettin or his supporters?" she asked in hard tones.
"I really think they must have a hideout in Darktown," said Aveline. "I could send guards to search all of the known places, but I cannot guarantee that they will be found. If this was planned, they will probably have moved."
Caitlyn suppressed a swear. "Very well. Search the known spots in Darktown." She glowered ahead. "What of the assassin?"
"Recovered and in jail. He is in his right mind. I presume that—"
"He will be questioned, and then he will suffer the full penalty of the law," Caitlyn said. "That was an assassination attempt; therefore, he is guilty of high treason even if no one in the clinic died."
Leandra and the Amells burst into the Keep later, Leandra herself in tears, hugging her family as soon as she could get them alone. "Oh, my dears," she said, reaching for her grandson, "I can't believe it! But you're all right."
"We are," Caitlyn said. "And there were no deaths in the clinic, it seems. One of the Healer apprentices lost both of her legs, and a patient lost an eye."
Leandra's face fell. "So terrible," she said quietly. "Is Anders all right?"
"He overexerted himself, casting spells to heal everyone in the clinic of mortal injuries—which included the assassin, who then threw a blade at him. He is sleeping and recovering."
"Actually, he is here now," announced a familiar male voice.
They whirled around to see Anders standing in the doorway, a weak, sad smile on his face. His left upper arm was bandaged. In the next few moments, he was mobbed.
"Poor, poor dear," Leandra said, hugging him. She planted a kiss on his cheek and released him to Caitlyn and Mal.
"Father," Mal said, holding him. A single tear trickled down his face. Anders bent down to return the hug.
"I almost lost you," Caitlyn said after they had left, clutching him. She buried her head in his chest and felt a surge of warmth as he hugged her. "But you saved all those people, my love. No one died, and it was because of you."
He said nothing, just holding her in place.
"I can't let this happen again," she continued, rubbing his sides, relishing the fact that he was here and all right. "I know that the Healers have to do their job, and by all means, offer your expertise about whether my ideas will work... but I don't want strangers entering that clinic again until they have been searched. I'm not sure what should be done about the ones who are clearly bleeding to death..."
"If it is an emergency, Healers will immediately take the patient to a cot. That man was able to stand around just long enough to throw his bomb at you."
She nodded. "Aveline said that there hadn't been another attack, but they haven't found Mettin and his group yet. I want an example made of this one, though."
"What do you mean?" he asked, shifting and lifting his arms from her head.
"He threw his bomb at us. At me. Even though no one was killed, attacking one's ruler is high treason. I want to send the message to Mettin and his followers that I am the lawful and rightful Viscountess of Kirkwall and that attacks like this have severe consequences."
He nodded. "I don't blame you. When I think of what could have happened to you... to Mal..." He broke off, his face curdling in anger.
"And when I think of what could have happened to you..."
They hugged tightly again.
An unpleasant task awaited Caitlyn. She was determined to know if the assassin had acted alone or if he had been part of a broader plot. More importantly, she wanted to know if Meredith Stannard knew anything. If she could prove that the Knight-Commander knew about this, that would be a piece of information on which Divine Justinia would have to act.
Anders was momentarily tempted to go with her to question the prisoner, but he quickly thought better of it. "I would be very likely to lose control," he acknowledged, "not for myself, but for the others. That lunatic tried to kill you. He attacked our child, tried to turn a place of sanctuary into a charnel house, and maimed two people permanently." He breathed heavily as a flash of light shot down his neck. "Yes, I would lose control. And... tonight, I just want to be with Mal. And you," he added. "I know that you have to do this... but could you come back soon? I don't want to be without you..."
His voice had become so plaintive toward the last, and it was such a sudden shift from the simmering anger at the atrocity, that she had to hug him. "I won't be out long," she said. "I'm not looking forward to it, but it must be done."
She passed out of the inner Keep and toward the cells. Aveline was waiting for her, a glower on the Guard-Captain's face. "I thought you would come," she said. "I wish you luck. I can't get a damned thing out of him."
Caitlyn clutched her staff. Her eyes narrowed. "I bet I can." Aveline raised her eyebrows at the implication but did not argue. She had, after all, just admitted mages into the City Guard for their unique talents. The two women clomped into the jail cells and headed down the dank, cold corridor to the end, where the assassin was imprisoned.
He glowered hatefully at their approach, a sullen, defiant sneer on his face. "I said nothing for the guard and I'll say nothing for you, apostate. You are no rightful Viscountess. The Maker curses you for your defiance of His holy law and I am on His side."
"You're wrong, but you'll get what you wanted, to be a martyr," Caitlyn said coldly. "Tell me, if you believe Mettin's lie that Healers send Fade spirits into their patients' bodies, since you were the unintended and undeserving beneficiary of my husband's healing magic, do you believe you are now an abomination?"
"The Maker protects His faithful. The demons come to those who seek out the 'help' of mages." He glared at her, a fanatical, borderline insane gleam in his eyes. "If you are going to execute me anyway—a noble death, dying for the Maker at the hands of an apostate—then what are you here for?"
Caitlyn smiled, but it was a cold, chilling, menacing smile. "You are going to die," she said, "but I thought I might tell you about the punishment for high treason, of which you are guilty for trying to kill me, along with attempted murder and a host of other crimes." She raised her chin slightly, gazing down upon him with contempt. "Viscount Dumar was a good man, but he was a weak leader, and justice was not often served during his reign. Even during the brief period when he had Elthina in his custody, he only considered hanging her, which is not the maximum penalty for high treason in the law codex of Kirkwall." Her smile became somewhat frozen. "The maximum penalty does include hanging—but not to the point of death, and not with a sudden, sharp drop that breaks the neck, providing a quick end. Instead, the traitor cannot breathe for a couple of minutes, writhing and twisting." She took a breath of her own; despite her own fury at what this man had done, this subject was exceedingly unpleasant to talk about. "After that, the traitor is taken down from the noose, still alive, and laid out on the table to be disemboweled, beheaded, drawn, and quartered." She spoke through clenched teeth, green eyes wide and angry. "It is only when the traitor's head is cut off that he dies. He is alive and conscious for the entire process up to that point."
The prisoner glanced down at the floor uncomfortably. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. However, he was resolutely silent.
"If you do not give me the information I want, I will see that this is done to you. No doubt you and your 'friends' think that what my husband did to the rapists was horrible because it was magic. By the end of this, you will be begging for an execution by magic." She breathed deeply again. "However, if you cooperate, I will only have you hanged, and it will be a quick death."
The malefactor stared at the floor for a moment before closing his eyes. A fervent, almost incoherent prayer passed from his lips, words repeated over and over, a plea to the Maker to give strength to his "faithful servant." Caitlyn and Aveline exchanged looks of irritation. He truly thinks the Maker is on his side, she thought. Whatever he knows or doesn't know, he is a true believer.
Finally the man looked up again, glaring defiantly. "I will tell you nothing, apostate. Andraste suffered through the magisters' fire, a torture far crueler than this. I defy you, that abomination 'Healer' that shares your bed, your court of heretics, and your dog woman thug of a guard! Void take all of you!"
Caitlyn nearly exploded in fury. A small flame escaped from her free hand almost of its own accord, and the sight prompted her to breathe in and out deeply to try to control her anger. "You'll talk if I want you to talk," she snarled. "You wouldn't be the first despicable criminal I forced to talk! The 'Butcher of Lowtown' told me what I wanted to know when I made him."
Aveline gave Caitlyn a surprised sideways glance, and the assassin sneered again. "What does that mean, blood magic? I have nothing to tell you. Mettin is a great man, but he only inspired me. I did it myself."
I said I would never do this again, Caitlyn thought rapidly. The memory of Merrill bleeding profusely from her blood hemorrhage spell filled her mind. A rage demon almost got me, too. I promised Anders I wouldn't do this, and he has already made the point in recent months about how I don't keep certain promises to him about endangering myself, like the promises that I wouldn't be rash with the Arishok or reckless with the High Dragon. I promised him, and I promised myself.
But if I don't... what if he really does refuse to talk? What if he knows a lot and I never learn it because I didn't do the spell that I know can control the mind? Torture doesn't work; people confess to whatever they think the torturer wants to hear... or they're fanatics like this one and still keep their silence. It doesn't work. But I do know how to force information out of someone's mind...
"Haw—Your Grace?" Aveline corrected herself, staring at Caitlyn.
She realized that she had been thinking for several seconds and turned to her friend. "We'll talk alone," she said, pulling Aveline away from the cell block and into a private office in the jail as the prisoner continued to sneer.
"Have you had any luck finding his associates?" she finally managed once they were behind a closed door.
"There were two in Darktown that people said had been part of Mettin's group," Aveline said. "They recognized that filth as another of their 'flock' but swore, separately, that they had no idea what he was planning."
Caitlyn scowled. "I've had enough of the lot of them. Every one that the guards find, I want brought in and questioned. This assassin is a zealot and I really think the only way I can get information from him is... something I don't want to do," she admitted as Aveline's eyebrows flew up at the confirmation that it was blood magic. "That does not change his sentence. He said he would suffer the full penalty, so he damn well will. I'm going to make an example of him for the rest of them, to see if that persuades someone to be forthright!"
Anders took it surprisingly well late that night when she returned to the family quarters and told him what she was going to do.
"That's exactly what he deserves," he seethed. "Even if he wasn't lying and really did act alone, it is justice. And it isn't magic at all. This is what the law of Kirkwall says. It's nothing to do with you."
"That's how I see it. I've had enough of these people. They need to be taught a lesson that any further attacks will be dealt with harshly."
"Mal could barely let me go tonight when I finished reading to him," Anders said quietly. "He was afraid that something would happen to me in the night—or you. Or himself. I told him that the inner Keep was heavily guarded and the family quarters had our magical wards on the doors, and that what happened in the clinic would not happen again because the guards would search people coming in now, but he's very upset about the fact that this happened inside the walls of the Keep."
Caitlyn closed her eyes and held him. "Did he need to see me?"
"I think I was able to reassure him. I was the one he wanted to see, because I was the one sleeping for so long. And he saw the dagger strike me."
"I know that this isn't what is most important right now, but did he see when Justice took you over?"
"I don't know. I don't see how he couldn't have, but he has seen it before, and he must still accept what I told him once, that it's 'advanced magic' that he'll learn about someday. Which he will. I won't keep it from him forever."
Caitlyn nodded, trying to accept the events of the day and put them behind her. It was impossible to do so fully just yet; the assassin had to be executed and any other conspirators had to be found. And there were people whose lives will never be the same, she thought with a surge of guilt as she realized she had been thinking mostly about her own family. They came into a healing clinic to receive care, and they left with permanent maiming. What will become of Ella now? I can't imagine that she would want to return to the clinic after what happened, even when a rolling chair is made for her. But if she doesn't come to the clinic, she'll have to go back to the Circle. What a hideous choice.
We can't let this stop what we are doing, she decided. We can't give in to fear and let the zealots win. That's what that man wanted to achieve. He wanted to kill me, to hurt everyone in that clinic, and to shut it and any others that might open in the future. I will not let that happen.
She nestled into Anders' tight embrace and eventually fell asleep.
"I want to see it," Mal said resolutely the next afternoon. His jaw was set and his visage was shockingly hard for a seven-year-old.
"Mal," Caitlyn tried to explain, "this is going to be very bloody and disturbing to watch. It might make some people sick up or pass out."
"I have seen blood before," the child insisted. "I have seen it in Father's clinics. And I saw a lot of wounded people yesterday."
"You saw blood in the clinics because I healed people of their injuries... or I needed to take a blood sample from them to know how best to treat them. This will be killing someone. I wish you hadn't seen the attack, and this is no place for a child," Anders said. "Your grandmother isn't going either. Don't you want to stay with her and your great-uncle and cousin?"
"No," he said. "He almost killed you, and tried to kill Mother—and all of us—and I want to see him die for it." Mal scowled momentarily, and his voice became a husky whisper. "Every time I close my eyes, I see that flash of light. I hear the people screaming as Mother pushes me to the ground to protect me and I worry about her. I see the knife sink into your shoulder..."
Anders and Caitlyn exchanged miserable glances. Their child's innocence was gone because of all of this. It was another casualty. Her voice extremely pained, Caitlyn said, "All right. I won't make you stay home if you really want to watch this. But if you change your mind once it begins, don't look. Bury your face in my skirt or your father's coat. I won't let anyone judge you for it."
The next day.
Caitlyn, Anders, and their friends stared ahead with angry, resolute faces as the executioner cut the rope of the noose, sending the assassin to his feet in a crumpled heap. He was twitching and retching, and several people in the gathered crowd had already opted to leave. Hangings were usually quick, but this was prolonged, and it was too much for some of them.
Caitlyn glanced quickly at Mal, who was visibly shaken but still able to look. "It's about to get ugly," she warned him in a low voice. "Remember what I said." He took a deep breath, nodded, and moved closer to his parents, holding his mother's skirt with a single small fist.
The executioner dragged the malefactor to a table that had been assembled and drew a sharp knife. Numerous screams filled the air as he cut through the robes of the condemned and his flesh, lifting out entrails. Caitlyn glanced down at once; she had certainly spilled organs herself as a vigilante with some of the more violent spells she knew, and she had seen it done by her blade-wielding brother and friends, but it was always nasty to watch. Mal gaped for a moment, visibly paling, before turning aside and closing his eyes.
Thunk! The blade cleaved through the assassin's neck at last. Two more hacks followed it. Caitlyn grimaced as Mal buried his face in the dark leather of Anders' coat. Anders held him tightly as the child trembled.
She wished she could comfort him too, but yet again, her political duties took her from her family. Unhappily she turned to Aveline and Petrice and stepped forward, nodding, as the executioner held the head high. "Thus we punish high treason in Kirkwall!" she exclaimed, trying to make herself look fierce and firm. Her gaze scanned the crowd. "Furthermore, the healing clinics will continue to operate! The vile, traitorous attack on Healers, sick patients, and the leaders of this city shall fail to achieve its purpose!"
"The Maker and His Bride curse those who profane and blaspheme them by doing evil in their names," Petrice intoned darkly. "Rather than following in the steps of the Prophet as holy martyrs, these blasphemers prowl the Void."
With that, Caitlyn nodded her dismissal, and the crowd began to disperse.
"Are you all right?" Caitlyn asked Mal once they were back home. She had been very concerned about him and had regretted allowing him to witness this.
The boy nodded, though he was still pale and twitchy. "I wish I hadn't come," he admitted, "but I'm all right. I didn't see all of it."
"I'm so, so sorry that you're exposed to any of this," she said, holding his shoulders as she knelt, her voice suddenly cracking. "I—your father and I—wanted so much to live a peaceful, quiet life... but we just can't, because we have to try to make things better for families like ours." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "It's not your fault. I don't mean that. I just wish... I wish you hadn't seen so much violence and ugliness and loss. I wish we could all have stayed together in Ferelden from the very first. All of us. I'm so sorry." As she held him, she felt a pair of arms envelop them both, and she realized that Anders had knelt behind them. She arched her back slightly to lean into him while pulling Mal closer.
"It's all right, Mother," Mal said, allowing her hug. "I understand."
"I wish you didn't have to understand," she whispered, "but... since you do have to, I am glad that you do."
"The guards have found another of Mettin's," Aveline reported later. "He also insists that nobody knew what that man was planning." She sighed. "Either they all conspired together in advance, or he really did act alone."
"I don't much care anymore," Caitlyn said. "Even if he did, he was inspired by what Mettin said, and he lurked about with those same people, reinforced in his beliefs." She seethed. "These people are just foot soldiers. Whatever they think about mages, they would not be radicalized if not for him. He is a former Templar and a 'victim' in their eyes for being sacked. He is the one we want to arrest. If that gory execution doesn't dissuade any of these people, then I think it's time to enforce the law against sedition. Dumar ignored it."
Aveline nodded curtly. Caitlyn hesitated, sighing, aware that her friend did not entirely approve, and the fact was that she too was conflicted about all of this. Although she got a certain enjoyment from using her power, and increasingly believed that it was necessary to subdue what looked very much like a brewing rebellion, she also knew that if she had not succeeded at making herself Viscountess, Meredith Stannard would have been the one to enforce sedition law, and she would have been using it against mage sympathizers. It gave Caitlyn pause. Should I really use a power that I would not want my enemies to use? she thought. Even if I do think it's necessary? And for that matter, why do I think it's necessary? These people think I am an illegitimate ruler and disregard my laws, so I'm trying to make them obey out of fear. I'm literally trying to rule by fear. Is this truly a good thing? Right now it doesn't involve magic, but might it someday? I was tempted to use blood magic again. I chastised Anders for harming the cause by making mages look bad. I told him that we are held to a different, higher standard. Yet what am I doing, and what am I tempted to do?
Her thoughts provided no reassurance.
"Your Grace," said Varric the next day, "you need to see something."
Caitlyn looked up, frustrated at having had yet another moment with her family interrupted. Anders and Mal were in the clinic again, determinedly at work, now that the guards were searching all the patients who were not dying before their eyes, and a pair of mages from the "Arcane Guard" were helping by scanning them for poisons. She had been watching, a proud smile on her face, as they moved around, defying the barbaric attack—and now she had to leave yet again.
Turning to Varric and trying to hide her frustration, she asked, "What's the problem? And where?"
Varric moved closer and spoke in a low voice so that no one else could hear. "It's in that small house in Hightown that assorted criminal guilds and gangs have used. You cleaned it out a couple of times yourself."
"That house again?" Caitlyn said, picking up her staff. "I do know the one." I also used that house to meet with Leliana for the first time in years two years ago, she thought. "What's there?"
Varric lowered his voice even more. "There's been a nasty murder, but it is not random. It's a message."
"I assume that means it is about mage rights, then."
"You... could put it that way, I suppose."
Her curiosity was piqued, but she was also alarmed. Varric sounded very cagey and dire. "A murder that's a message about mage rights. Who is it this time? I hope not one of my friends or allies."
"I don't think so. It's... something else. You just need to come and see."
"Why am I hearing about this from you instead of Aveline? No offense."
"Because she'd immediately involve the whole bloody Guard and I'm not sure that's what you will want, once you see it," he said. "I was there, looking into a rumor that the Carta was interested in the place, but I think that was just a tale that would get me to go inside to see... what is there. They wanted me to see it, not her, and that means they wanted you to see it for yourself."
Caitlyn was about to ask who were Varric's "they," but she realized that she would not get an answer until she went along. Nodding curtly, she gathered a cloak and headed out, not noticing that Anders was watching her departure.
Cloaked and hooded to conceal her identity, she walked beside Varric to the house. He took out a set of keys and unlocked it. "I put this padlock on as soon as I saw it," he said. "Don't want anyone else seeing it before you." He glanced uneasily at her as they went inside. Even though it was daytime, the house was still dim, and dust motes gleamed in the beams of light that passed through the windows. "Brace yourself. This is nasty."
"I've seen nasty killings before," Caitlyn said. "I ordered and oversaw one the other day."
Varric chuckled darkly as he opened an inside door. Caitlyn gasped at the sight before them.
In the very room that she had met with Leliana two years ago, two bodies dangled from a dusty chandelier, attached by nooses, bloody slices across their entire bodies that cut all the way through skin and muscle. Caitlyn felt queasy at the sight of their guts trying to spill out through the awful gaps; she remembered how horrible it had been to see the assassin disemboweled. Blood had pooled below the bodies, spreading out several feet. It soaked through the wooden floor so heavily that the wood was warped from it, and both corpses still dripped blood. They were naked, revealing that they had been a male and a female, but their faces were concealed—by Templar helmets.
Caitlyn stumbled back toward the door, which swung shut again. She collapsed against it, staring in horror and disgust at the mutilated bodies. "What kind of sick bastard would do this?" she exclaimed.
"Read that," Varric said, pointing to an open note on a dusty table that Caitlyn had not noticed. "I won't try to influence your opinion before you do."
Glowering, furious, and shaking, Caitlyn stepped over to read the note.
.
We are on your side, but we are frustrated. You were almost killed by a common lout, not even a Templar, and he is the only one who has seen justice for it. Not the liar who incited him, not the lunatic bitch who serves as Knight-Commander. They used him and discarded him when he failed. An innocent young mage lost her legs for nothing, and if you cannot eliminate those who made it possible, we will take action ourselves and will not rest until every Templar in Thedas is flayed like these. For every one of us that they maim, we will kill two of them. For every one they kill, we will kill three.
.
Caitlyn breathed heavily, trying to collect her thoughts and subdue her fury. This is the Front for Resolution that Aveline told me about, she thought. That, or the Resolutionists themselves. They did this. They must have.
I do not want to announce this to the public. Meredith will use it against me, even though I had nothing to do with it. She will use it to foment hate and fear of mages. And yet, I cannot just let it go. It's wrong, and besides, someone knows who did it. They know who did it and they must know that I will learn about it, if they did draw Varric to this place. They can blackmail me if I don't do anything about it. Can Aveline be trusted to conduct a private investigation of this? Is it even possible? And how in the Maker's name can I keep this a secret from Meredith? She'll notice that these Templars are missing.
Taking a deep breath, she decided on her course. "This is despicable," she seethed, "and it will not stand. Not in my name. I'm going to tell Aveline about this—but she will have to investigate it privately. I do not want the city to know about it. I don't know how to keep it from the Knight-Commander, though. Do you have any ideas?"
Varric thought hard. "Templars do turn up dead in alleys," he said. "This is a lot nastier than a typical gang knifing, though. Obviously."
"Gangs typically don't mutilate their victims, no." She sighed. "Aveline isn't going to like anything about keeping this secret."
Caitlyn, Varric, Anders, Aveline, and—at Caitlyn's suggestion—Ser Thrask were gathered in a private chamber in the inner Keep to discuss the murders and what to do. In Aveline's opinion, the path forward was clear, and she was appalled at the talk of any sort of cover-up.
"You know," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm, "you could just tell Meredith what happened. She might be pleasantly surprised and be willing to work with you more if you do."
Caitlyn and Varric forbore from rolling their eyes. Anders was not so magnanimous. "And the Maker might come to Thedas in the body of a nug," he scoffed.
"Anders!" Aveline exclaimed with an alarmed glance at Thrask. "Do you have any sense—"
The Templar shrugged. "I thought it was funny. I've heard far worse." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Justice must be done, but I do understand why the Viscountess doesn't want the Knight-Commander to know how, specifically, they died. Perhaps if she were less paranoid, less fanatical, she might react as you hope, Guard-Captain... but sadly I have to agree with Hawke. It is possible to bring a murderer to justice without telling all and sundry about the crime." He gazed ahead blankly. "These particular Templars were innocent. They were not cronies of Meredith. I never saw them being cruel to mages, even by my standards. I was not close to them, but I had spoken to them a few times, and they seemed to agree with my views. I wonder if these 'Resolutionists' knew that... or cared. They were targeted because of the armor and insignia they wore, nothing more."
"Who were they?" Caitlyn asked gently.
"Their names were Eustas and Delia," he said, finding some strength in naming them, giving them back their identities. "This upsets me, Your Grace. I'm sorry."
She gazed sadly at him. "I wish it hadn't happened, and I do not condone it. I don't see it just as a political problem to solve. I really don't. They didn't deserve this, and I want to see justice done for it."
Thrask nodded. "I know. I'm not considering changing sides, Your Grace; don't worry about that. I know you don't approve of this."
"Did they have families?"
He shook his head. "They were Blight orphans who arrived with nothing."
Caitlyn blanched. "Oh, Maker," she said, clutching her forehead. "Well... it sounds as if you might be the closest thing to next of kin that they have. If you don't mind overseeing their pyres... and don't mind having their funerals well outside the city... obviously, we need to treat their bodies with respect. Would you mind...?"
"Not at all."
Aveline rose. "If we have decided that the Knight-Commander will not be told, then I had best get to work investigating this crime."
"You may tell Donnic and two or three other guards that you trust to be quiet about it," said Caitlyn. "This cannot get out yet, Aveline."
Aveline nodded. "I respect your decision even if I don't agree with it, and I won't endanger you by telling people I can't trust to be discreet. Oh—speaking of Donnic. I thought I should tell you... though this isn't the best time, right after a gory murder." For a moment, she looked sheepish at her own awkward timing.
Caitlyn raised her eyebrows questioningly. She thought she knew what was coming...
"We're getting married."
Caitlyn smiled. "That's great! Congratulations. You don't need me to say this, since you were married before, but it's wonderful to have a loving spouse." Anders smiled at her and took her hand affectionately as she returned the smile. "A bit of good news in these dark days."
"Your Grace! There's a young woman here demanding an audience with you. She says that you helped her out of a scrape in 9:31."
Caitlyn looked up from her desk at Donnic Hendyr. "Did she give a name or a message?" A wry smile crossed her face. "I helped a lot of people out of scrapes that year."
"She says her name is Grace and that she would like to speak with you about the Knight-Commander." He lowered his voice. "She was dressed like a mage. Her tunic looked awfully like an altered mage's robe."
The name had jogged Caitlyn's memory. "Grace? I did help a mage by that name that year. She came from Starkhaven after the Circle there burned. Karras wanted to kill all of the mages who survived that. If this is the same person, I will see her." She rose from her desk and picked up her staff when something occurred to her. "Oh," she said in an undertone, "if this is who it is, don't speak of it to anyone other than Anders, Aveline, Varric, or Merrill. I am not in the business of handing over apostates to Meredith Stannard."
"Of course," Donnic assured her.
When Caitlyn reached the small chamber in the outer Keep where the visitor was waiting, she quickly identified Grace. She would not necessarily have remembered the woman if she had encountered her on the street, but since Donnic had given her Grace's name and a small bit of back story, she had no trouble confirming Grace's identity from her memories.
"Grace," Caitlyn acknowledged, "I understand that you have requested an audience with me to talk about the Knight-Commander."
The Starkhaven mage looked impatient. "Yes," she barked, glowering at her own shoes. "I don't understand why she is still in power."
"I do not have the authority to dismiss her. I wish I did."
"The Grand Cleric does!" Grace exclaimed. "We all thought that she was your ally! She could sack Meredith, and yet, Meredith is still here, still able to hurt mages. She's still here even after Lord Anders executed those rapist Templars, who committed their crimes on her watch! She's still here after that lunatic attacked the clinic and almost killed everyone, including you!"
Caitlyn took a deep breath and let it out to relax. "I can't prove that she knew about either of those things, especially the attack. Unfortunately, the current evidence is that the assassin acted alone. He was riled by Mettin's lies, but we cannot even prove that Mettin knew about his plan, let alone Meredith. And... before I became Viscountess... don't you remember? The Grand Cleric did sack Meredith, but the Templars and Seekers in Orlais reinstated her. The only person who can overrule them is Divine Justinia, and she didn't intervene. That is why Meredith is still here." In this moment, it felt good to Caitlyn to unload on Divine Justinia, with whom she was not particularly happy, even though she knew that this Divine supported most of her goals for mage rights.
Grace forbore from scowling directly at Caitlyn. "She sent the Knight-Vigilant to the Templar madhouse. Why can't Petrice sack Meredith again now that he is gone? Will the Divine herself overrule her?"
"The Lady Seeker also supported Meredith's appeal, and she is still seated." When anger and frustration filled Grace's face, Caitlyn said hurriedly, "I am of the same mind you are, Grace, but the unfortunate truth is that we're powerless to remove Meredith as long as there are people high in the Chantry who back her and have the power to keep her—unless Justinia overrules them after all."
Grace did scowl this time. "Then perhaps we should send someone to Val Royeaux to demand audience with her."
"We?" Caitlyn thought suddenly—and then she realized that this was not the first time in the conversation that Grace had said it. A suspicion instantly filled her mind, and she did not wait to voice it.
"We?" she repeated, eyeing the Starkhaven mage. "Who's 'we,' Grace?"
Grace fell silent, staring at her feet. "My... friends..."
"Your friends. Are they, perchance, the Front for Resolution?"
Grace's expression turned mulish. "I know about those two dead Templars, if that's why you are asking, Viscountess," she said. "I've taken care of it."
"So they are, then. Are you the leader of this group?"
"Yes," Grace said sullenly. "Only the Kirkwall group. I don't conspire with those nuts in Tantervale."
"And yet your 'friends' still commit murder. Those two Templars were innocent, and according to a Templar I trust who is a friend of mages and has even helped them escape the Circle, they largely supported and sympathized with mages—with us," she said for emphasis. "Your 'friends' murdered people who could have protected Circle mages."
"I've taken care of it."
Caitlyn loomed menacingly over Grace, clutching her staff and glaring hard. "I'm sure the Captain will want to speak to you, and you had better be telling the truth, because if you are not, I'm quite certain that she will 'take care of it.' I am the public face of mage rights in southern Thedas. Whatever you do for the cause reflects on me even if I had no advance knowledge of it. We can be allies, and I'll give you the benefit of a doubt for now, but if anything like this happens again, you'll wish it hadn't. If you really didn't know about this plot, then you had better get control of your 'friends.'"
"You know," Anders said late that night, "I don't think she did a thing to the killers."
Caitlyn sighed. "I doubt it too, but there was nothing I could do without evidence. I hope we are both mistaken, but if we aren't, I hope she will do something to the killers now that I've put her on notice. Even if that just means turning them over to Aveline."
He leaned into his pillow, gazing at the ceiling. "Caitlyn... love... I know that you don't want to think about this. I don't like thinking about it either. But the time is approaching when you need to be prepared for war to break out."
She winced. "Surely it can still be prevented."
"I hope so too," he said, "but... it might not be, if enough people decide that violence is the only way."
"Then at that point, it will become the only way. We're not there yet."
He nodded. "I know. I don't mean to imply that you're ignoring the possibility, because I know you're not, but... Kirkwall is so vulnerable. And if Elthina, Sebastian, and those Chantry rebels are egging this on, corresponding with Meredith and Mettin and their ilk, their strategy is to undermine you and fracture the city from the inside rather than declaring war openly."
She closed her eyes. This was exactly what she feared most was happening, and she didn't have any ideas for how to fight it except for cracking down hard, as she had begun to do. As nice as it was to think that people could be swayed by reason, she knew that it was not true for many. Some foes could only be fought and defeated. "I am doing all that I can," she said, her voice sounding surprisingly fragile even to herself. "There must be consequences or else they will go ever farther, but at the same time, I don't want to cause a backlash that's just as bad. It's hard."
He pulled her into his arms and cuddled her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."
She nestled into his embrace, trying to push it out of her mind at least for tonight. "I know. But you can make me feel better now."
His eyes gleamed and he broke into a sideways grin, but that quickly shifted to an expression of tenderness as he began to caress and kiss her.
A few days later.
"I've got bad news, Hawke," Varric reported. "I spoke with our friend Thrask this morning and apparently Meredith is going to say something at the Gallows today."
"She cannot set policy herself anymore," said Caitlyn.
"He says it's about the murdered Templars. She's noticed they're missing, and in her paranoia, she has decided that you know more than you're saying."
Caitlyn laughed bitterly. "I suppose it was inevitable that someday her paranoia would result in a conclusion that, by chance, is right. I'll be there. If she tries anything illegal, I won't have it."
Anders beamed with pride. "I'd like to come along," he said.
"Well, I can hardly keep you from it!" she said with a grin.
"And to bring Mal, if he'd like to come."
She sighed. "Why not? He has had to grow up far too fast already. Better that he know."
Petrice isn't here, Caitlyn thought, wondering about that for a moment—but her mind could not fix on that for long. Meredith's voice carried from the steps of the imposing structure as Caitlyn and her family approached. "It pains me to be right about this," she proclaimed to the assembled Templars and supporters, "but sadly, two of the Maker's soldiers have disappeared without a trace, and the so-called Arcane Guard have been unable to find them or any information about them. Or if they have," she added darkly, "they have not chosen to share what they know, nor have the Guard-Captain or the mage Viscountess."
Caitlyn was prepared for an attack on herself, but she was not prepared for Meredith to slander the mages serving in the guard, and as soon as the words escaped Meredith's lips, incandescent rage filled Caitlyn. Barely noticing that First Enchanter Orsino stood beside Meredith, she stormed to the front of the crowd, breaking away from Anders and Mal.
"You are out of line!" she roared as the attention of everyone present shifted to her. "It's tragic, but it is not uncommon in this city for anyone, Templars included, to go missing, due to the enormous amount of crime that occurs daily because of the negligence and corruption of the former leadership," she concluded in a pointed sneer. "The Guard-Captain has identified numerous guards—none of whom are mages—who were being bribed or blackmailed by criminals. In my early days here, I myself heard of secret deals to grant amnesty to hardened criminals if they accused someone of being a mage. I am not accusing you of being party to such arrangements, of course," she said with heavy sarcasm as Anders and Mal caught up with her, "but they did occur, and although I am working very hard to clean up this city, it takes time to uproot such thoroughly rooted corruption."
Meredith's nostrils flared and her eyes bulged minutely. "You overreach," she spat. "I am merely making the point that these mages in the guard have been useless in solving a crime. So much for the claimed need for them!"
"That is not all that you said," Caitlyn retorted, "and furthermore, their role was not to investigate; it was to deal with dangerous criminals directly. I have, in fact, been informed of the disappearance of these two Templars, and my trusted guards are chasing leads right now. If they haven't questioned you, it must be because they don't think you have any useful information—no surprise there, given that the Templars were said to be friendly to mages," she said with false sweetness.
"I should have been informed that such an investigation was taking place."
"This is a suspected murder case, and that falls under the purview of the guard. As you well know, violations of civil law are for the civil authorities to handle, not your cronies."
At this allusion to Anders' ill-fated regency, Meredith looked ready to challenge Caitlyn to a duel right there and damn the consequences. She began to draw her sword. Shocked but prepared, Caitlyn readied her staff.
Orsino quickly stepped forward, trying to dispel the tension. "Your Grace!" he exclaimed. "Knight-Commander! Let's try to keep calm and not inflame each other. There is an investigation. The disappearance hasn't been ignored."
Meredith glowered at Caitlyn before turning to Orsino with a menacing smile. "The investigation should include Templar expertise. Blood mages might be involved. This is another form of crime that persists here."
"The guard mages are perfectly competent, but if we need Templar assistance too, we will request it," Caitlyn said icily.
"Nonetheless, this event, as well as the blast in the clinic, shows that strong action is needed to protect the people of Kirkwall from fanatics."
"You're one to talk," muttered Anders. "The best thing you could do to promote that goal is to resign." Fortunately his voice was too low for Meredith to hear him.
"I propose sending the Healers back to the Circle," she said, "and sending the Arcane Guard back as well, for their own safety. The attack was against mages, and it is true that the two missing Templars were... unorthodox," she said, her lips pursed, practically spitting the word. "I would propose, for the well-being of those who agree with the Viscountess's and Grand Cleric's radical views, that the mages who are working outside the Circle return to safety until the lawless fanatics can be apprehended." She backed away, smirking.
Caitlyn was blindsided for a moment. She had never thought Meredith a particularly intelligent person, especially given her propensity to lash out and the reports from Thrask that she experienced possible lyrium-induced paranoia. Elthina had been the clever and dangerous one, the wolf who passed herself off as a harmless sheep due to her gray hair, priestly robes, affectation of moderation, and soft voice. Caitlyn had forgotten the fact that Meredith had exhibited a certain crude cleverness herself at times. She had come close to seizing power and would have if Caitlyn had not cultivated supporters to back her own bid to rule. In all likelihood, Meredith was blackmailing Orsino with something; Caitlyn wished very much that she knew what. She had been smart enough to make alliances in the Chantry that had her back, she had a circle of fellow zealots utterly devoted to mutual protection—essentially fighting from behind an impregnable fort—and she had managed to stir up fanatics while maintaining plausible deniability herself. This false claim of being concerned for the safety of the mages was a perfect example of the latter—and of course, we'll never be rid of lawless fanatics so long as she and her followers continue to incite them, Caitlyn thought in anger.
"The mages aren't going anywhere unless they, individually, want to," she said at once, "and every Healer who was in the Keep clinic that day has chosen to continue serving the people. Even the one who lost her legs." It was true; Ella had been obviously traumatized, but she was placated by the new search protocol for patients. More than that, she would rather assume this risk than return to the Circle. That speaks for itself, Caitlyn thought.
"If only the Grand Cleric were here, we could hold a vote on it."
And why isn't she? Caitlyn wondered again. She put it aside. "Even if, for Maker knows what reason, the First Enchanter agrees with you," Caitlyn said with a glare at Orsino, "the Grand Cleric isn't going to change her mind. She stood beside me at the assassin's execution when I declared that the clinics would stay open. And they will, so long as there is a single mage who wants to serve there."
"Which there is," Anders called out. Beside him, Mal smiled proudly.
Meredith scowled again, and Orsino spoke once more. "In the interest of compromise, and to assist with the investigation of the missing Templars, I will let your people search the quarters of every mage in the Circle," he offered. Anders gasped in outrage, and Caitlyn thought she saw the light of Justice pass over him briefly. For her part, she tried to keep her own dismay invisible.
"Are you implying that you think some of the Circle mages might be blood mages and have something to do with this?" Anders spoke up, getting Caitlyn's attention as she realized that he had filled the void of her silence.
Orsino gazed back expressionlessly. "If I suspected that, I would name names. It is a peace offering, a gesture of good faith."
Anders did not even try to hide his scoff. Caitlyn, sensing that this was about to become a very unpleasant confrontation, intervened. "Then in that case, I hope your faith isn't misplaced," she snapped. "And I believe that's all that needs to be said of this sordid matter."
Late the next evening.
After the stress of the past several days, Caitlyn wanted time with Mal. While mother and son practiced spells together, Anders stole the moment to sneak away, hoping that if they finished early, he could contrive a plausible excuse and that the guards in the outer Keep would not tell her at once when he left. In truth, he wanted to see Thrask. Covering his head, he crept away from the Keep, slinking in the shadows toward the Hightown house that was so often used for crime. Thrask was waiting for him there.
"I realize this is an imposition," Anders began, "but I just... think it's crucial to know whom to trust and who is on Meredith's side after that display."
Thrask considered. "So what is it you want from me?"
"A list of names of Templars who are her cronies—or who support her harsh measures or extreme views," he said. When Thrask's eyebrows flew up his forehead, Anders reassured him at once, "This is not for retaliation." Yet, he thought. If it should become necessary... that might change. "I would just feel more comfortable knowing how many enemies there are and who they are."
Thrask gazed ahead into the night sky. He was silent for a while. Finally, fearing that he was not going to accede, Anders spoke again. "What is it?"
The Templar turned around. "Do you remember how we first met? I was helping another Templar ferry mages out of Kirkwall when they were in danger. That Templar is named Raleigh Samson."
Anders nodded. "We heard something worrisome about him recently, that he was seen in the Mage Underground tunnels all the time."
"I think he has done a flip," Thrask said at once even as Anders' gaze popped and then narrowed in dismay and anger. "I think he would have to be on this... list of names that you want."
"Why did he turn?" Anders pressed.
Thrask hesitated. "I mean no offense, so please do not take it that way. He grumbled quite a lot about your justice against Alrik and his comrades. Before the Grand Cleric sacked Mettin, I overheard the two of them talking a lot, and Samson said that he was starting to think that Meredith was right."
Anders was thunderstruck and horrified. "He turned because of me?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Thrask did not answer, gazing sympathetically at Anders instead. "I wonder now... He helped me ferry mages away, but I wonder how much he knew about Alrik's depredations very early, far earlier than I ever knew. If he did know and kept it a secret for years, I am ashamed of myself for not seeing, but either he deceived me for years or he has turned completely. Before Petrice dismissed Mettin, the two became very close. This... sounds odd... but I think they shared lyrium."
"Shared lyrium?" Anders repeated. "What's the point of that? I thought all Templars were issued lyrium anyway."
"There is a rumor in the Gallows that Meredith's favorites receive some type of 'special' lyrium potion that we ordinary mortals don't get. There was a crate delivered to the Gallows by couriers who were not the usual, official, proper dwarven merchants. If it's an unauthorized mixture that's more potent than the Templar Order issues, that's worrisome."
"I can't blame lyrium abuse for evil," Anders said aggressively. "It makes non-mages mad if they use it too heavily. It doesn't turn them into rapists and slave-traders."
"It could make people more paranoid," Thrask argued, "but I agree, I cannot blame Samson's turn on lyrium, and even if he disagreed strongly with what you did, he did not have to take it this far. Your friends, after all, disagreed, but it didn't change their views about the broader cause." He gazed ahead again for a moment. "I will compile this list of names for you and the Viscountess. We don't want to lose or hurt any more people who are on our side, and this may be the only way to be sure."
Notes: Regarding Samson, I do not mean to imply that Anders is responsible for the eventual rise of the Red Templars, because people are responsible for their own choices that are freely made, but Samson did need a different reason to turn in this AU, and that's a pretty obvious candidate.
And yes, Meredith is giving red lyrium to her few favorites. This will come out later. I do not like the idea of Meredith as a "victim" of the idol/sword, and here she definitely is not. She noticed the effect and liked it, and so she sought more and knew where to send a private crew, having bought it from the dwarf who led a well-known expedition. I tend to think of Meredith as the first Red Templar even in canon, but I know the argument against that is that she didn't ever ingest it in the game. There's no ambiguity about it in this AU.