Notes: Thank you as always for reading! Cullen fans, I think you'll like the middle of the chapter. And Cullen detractors, it's not so excusing of him that it's unreadable for you (I hope).

Warning: This chapter contains violence against a pregnant woman.

Chapter 52: Stifling, Confining, Collapsing Walls

Caitlyn shuffled through the papers of Quentin, Butcher of Lowtown, with distaste. She had kept them to prevent Gascard DuPuis from getting them, but she had never read them. Even though she had still practiced blood magic then, this was far beyond her limits of acceptable. Besides, the Butcher had nearly killed her mother and probably also her son, and would have done if Anders had not been at the house. It was an unpleasant memory, tinged by unrealized fear, that she had not had any desire to relive, so these papers had gone into a chest and had been locked away. Now, though, she needed to look through them to see if DuPuis's accusation against Orsino was true.

She threw aside a scribble about the theory of extracting a loved one's memories from the Fade and embedding them in a spirit that would then be forced to impersonate the deceased. It seemed that Quentin knew perfectly well that his... creation... would not have actually been animated by the soul of his dead wife, but that a simulacrum would have been good enough for him. That made it even worse to Caitlyn. A delusional man who could convince himself that this was his wife was pitiable. It was still a loathsome series of crimes, but there was something else behind it too. But one who was not delusional, who wanted a thing that looked and acted like his wife not to have her back, because he knew it was not she, but purely for his companionship and pleasure—she grimaced in revulsion at that thought—that man was beneath contempt. He got what he deserved, Caitlyn thought, tossing aside another document. He failed in the end, and we delivered justice upon him.

"I found something," said Anders ominously, holding up a letter. His face was darkened. "There is no proof that it was Orsino who wrote this, but it is... highly suggestive, in light of everything else we know."

Caitlyn took the letter that he offered and read over it quickly. The correspondent was conspiring with the murderer to exchange books and notes with him. The signatory was "O." She glowered, handing it back to Anders. "It's not definitive proof, as you said, but considering that DuPuis made the claim, I believe it. He had no reason to lie about that. In fact... I wonder if he wanted me to know this with his dying breath for my own sake. They did seem to support me. He might have wanted me to know it for my own protection." A shadow passed over her face. "I wonder if I was right to attack..."

"He tried to extort you into siding with him," Anders said. "He tried to blackmail you. You gave them the chance to leave peacefully—at least, to take their fight away from you—but he refused it. He was accusing you of hypocrisy when he said it and it sounded like an act of spite to me, that you had mortally wounded him but there was still another conspirator highly placed in Kirkwall. However much he may have supported you politically, he couldn't have known that Meredith was blackmailing Orsino with this knowledge."

"If she is," Caitlyn said, getting to her feet with the document in hand. "The idea still jars me. Meredith, knowing that the First Enchanter conspired with a blood mage murderer, and keeping it secret?" She gazed at the paper. "The first vote that the four of us took—ending the dissolution of families and bringing mage siblings of Kirkwall mages back to this city—he voted against the reform, with Meredith, and said something in defense of this that I disagreed with."

"Well, obviously," Anders said with a smile.

She managed a smile in return. "Of course! But what he said was that people could do terrible things for love. He could have meant this. Where in the Void else would he have seen mages acting out of love, or what he thinks is love? I replied that having no one to care about destroyed people's empathy and could make them become obsessed with the possibilities of 'research' without any thought for what it did to people. It seems prescient now."

Anders glowered. "And of course he was locked up in that place for so long that he really thinks the Butcher acted out of love for his dead wife."

"But Meredith, though... would she actually keep a secret like this?"

He considered. "It seems hard to believe, admittedly, but she is a menace, and if Orsino didn't actually do blood magic himself, she might find it more useful to keep him around to thwart you. Knight-Commander Greagoir in Ferelden kept Irving around because he knew Irving wouldn't cause trouble for the established order. On the other hand, Orsino might be taking her side in most of these votes because he knows he was wrong and thinks that working with her makes amends. But either way, he needs to be confronted."

"I agree," Caitlyn said. Her gaze hardened. "If she isn't blackmailing him into doing her bidding, I will. I can use this to pressure him into stepping down." She clenched her free fist, letting a tiny magic flame escape.

Anders' amber eyes widened in surprise and respect. "That's rather hard-edged, but probably necessary."

"You know me."

"That I do." He gazed at her with admiration.

"Come with me," Caitlyn urged him, stashing the note in a pocket. "I don't want to do this alone."

His gaze darted quickly to her small bump, then back to her face. "Of course," he said gently.

After giving it more thought, Caitlyn asked Varric to be present. She was not sure that she would actually get to speak to Orsino alone. Caitlyn had requested a private audience, but Meredith regarded herself as a law apart and behaved accordingly. It was better to have strength of numbers, she reasoned.

When she, Anders, and Varric made their way up the Gallows steps, her heart sank. Orsino was there, flanked by Meredith, just as she had feared—and also Cullen Rutherford. She caught a quick glance of alarm on Anders' face but steeled her resolve. She wouldn't dare, she told herself as they approached the First Enchanter and Templars. Not in front of all of these witnesses.

"I requested a private audience with the First Enchanter," Caitlyn said as they reached the alcove in the Gallows where the other three were waiting. Her voice had an edge. "If you felt that you had to escort him, you and the Knight-Captain may step back now while I have this conversation."

Meredith sneered back. "Do you imagine that I will not insist upon knowing what you said to him when we return to the Circle quarters?"

"You know," Anders put in as an aside to her, "maybe it's best to say it to her face, all things considered."

"And in front of Cullen, for good measure," added Varric.

Caitlyn considered their words for a moment before nodding. "That's a good point. All right," she said, turning back to the others, "let's not waste any time. First Enchanter Orsino... I have obtained evidence that about two years ago, you conspired with the murderous blood mage Quentin, known as the Butcher of Lowtown—whom my friends and I killed while he was attempting to make my mother and probably my son his final victims." She drew out the incriminating note and held it before his eyes. "You wrote this, didn't you?"

Orsino closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again and faced her resignedly. "Yes," he said. "I did. He was working with interesting magic..."

"Interesting magic," she repeated mockingly. "I recall telling you that this is exactly what happens when mages—when people—are locked up and frightened into never loving anyone again. They think that killing people for body parts and stitching them together is 'interesting magic'!"

"He did not kill your son or your mother," Orsino said, "and I swear before the Maker, I did not know that he was stalking her."

"So the victims he did kill don't matter? Why, because I was a resident of Hightown by then, and they were from Lowtown?" She sneered in disgust. "This makes me sick."

Cullen had drawn back, eyes wide and shocked. Meredith, Caitlyn noticed, did not appear surprised. That confirmed it for her. Furiously she turned to the Knight-Commander. "And you knew it!" she said savagely. "I knew you were threatening him into siding with you on the votes—and this is how, isn't it? You are blackmailing him!"

For a moment Meredith was too stunned to respond. Cullen drew back even farther, gazing from Caitlyn to Meredith warily, unsure whom to believe or trust now. Orsino looked defeated for that moment, but in the next, he steeled himself, newfound courage appearing in his eyes. "That is exactly right," he said, suddenly fixing the Knight-Commander with a defiant glare.

That jolted Meredith out of her momentary stupor. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes gleamed oddly. "You lie," she seethed. "You lie!" She turned to Caitlyn, Anders, and Varric, arrogant smugness in her posture. "Whatever this admitted blood mage criminal says, you have no proof, and the word of a maleficar is worthless!" She raised her hand sharply, the reek of lyrium suddenly filling the air surrounding her.

Anders tried to pull Caitlyn away as she readied her staff, but he was not fast enough. The shock wave of an unnaturally powerful Holy Smite blasted both of them backward even as Orsino tumbled back in the opposite direction.

Caitlyn slammed hard on the pavement. She felt her tailbone fracture from the fall, and the inertia of motion was too strong to fight. She tumbled backward, only just keeping her head from slamming stone. Her staff clattered from her hands uselessly—not that she had any mana available to use anymore.

Then a throbbing, piercing pain shot from her lower abdomen.

She was vaguely aware of the shouting, a cacophony of voices yelling. A scream of horror and agony in a voice that she recognized as Orsino's, ending in a gurgle. More voices shouting, blurring together, all of them heated and utterly outraged. She didn't know if Cullen was yelling at Meredith or at Anders, but he was furious with someone. Anders, she thought, clutching her abdomen. "Help," she cried, her voice a croak. She couldn't even get up from the pavement, she was so disoriented from the Smite and the slam against the ground. "Anders, help, please!"

The yelling intensified, especially Cullen's and Varric's voices, at the sound of her cry. I'm going to lose the baby, she thought in misery. I'm going to lose her—and Anders was hit by the Smite too. He can't help me. We're going to lose her. Meredith killed her. She killed our baby, just like that. The wave of choking despair overwhelmed her, and she burst into tears.

Blazing blue light then filled her tear-blurred field of vision, and a shadow darkened the harsh sun. She felt a familiar sensation... the sensation of a healing spell, she thought. But how? How could he have recovered so fast? She wiped her eyes and found herself facing the piercing, icy gaze of her husband's companion spirit.

"Justice," she whispered. The spirit was casting spells, drawing on its own Fade energy. Without a word, Anders—Justice—cast another powerful healing spell, focusing the wave of magic at her lower belly like a lens focusing a beam of sunlight. The pain that she was feeling subsided somewhat.

"She'll see you," Caitlyn burst out in a whisper. "You can't let them see!"

"Shh. They are not looking at us."

Another wave of panic overtook her. "Anders, the baby! I felt her dying—I felt pain there—the fall ripped her loose, ripped from inside my body—"

"That hasn't happened," he said, his tones those of the spirit, though quiet. "I reached out with healing magic to sense it. You are bleeding inside, but she is still attached. You have to try to be calm."

"I can't..." She began to breathe heavily from the panic. "Anders—"

He was silent for a moment before facing her with a sad look, even though the spirit still possessed him. "This panic is endangering her further. If you cannot relax, I will have to send you to sleep."

That only increased her fear. "Anders, please, if you can't save her, please don't let them burn her without letting me have the chance to hold her... just one time..." Tears formed again.

"I'm going to save her," he said resolutely, bathing her abdomen in another highly focused spell.

She breathed, feeling the pain lessen further. "But if you can't... please promise me."

"I promise. But I will save her. I'll wake you up when it is safe." With that, he readied a spell and sent her into a deep, restful sleep.

He continued to cast spells at her abdomen, focusing on her alone even though the body of the First Enchanter lay just feet away from them. There was nothing that he could do for Orsino now, and attacking Meredith for what she had done, however much she deserved it, would take him away from his duty to Caitlyn and their unborn daughter who was fighting to hold on. It would be an injustice against our family to put violent revenge ahead of them, he thought, or Justice thought, or they thought together, as he cast spells to heal her, all the while making sure that the Templars could not see his face.

Varric approached him hesitantly, blanching as he saw that Caitlyn was not conscious and that Anders was focusing on this specific area of her body. "Is she all right?" he said, clearly afraid to hear the answer.

"They are both all right, for now," Anders replied in Justice's voice. "I will need help carrying her home. I do not need to compress this part of her body and I cannot carry her by myself without doing so."

"Sure thing," Varric said, relieved. He glowered at Meredith, who was engaged in a heated argument with Cullen. "Will it be safe to move her soon?"

He cast one more blast of blue magic, then breathed deeply as Justice ceded control. His eyes turned amber again and the spirit-light faded. "It's safe to move her now. She needs to be in a bed." He glared malevolently at the Templars. "If this didn't work, or if it did and there is anything wrong with my daughter... Meredith is dead. I mean it. She knew that Caitlyn was pregnant and she did that on purpose. I just know she did."

Varric did not disagree. He and Anders gently lifted Caitlyn's sleeping form from the ground, keeping her as horizontal as they could to avoid putting pressure on her womb.

Cullen shot a final furious glare at Meredith before shuffling away from her. He approached them, looking distraught. "I am so sorry," he burst out. "Is Her Grace all right? And the little one..."

Anders was not looking for his sympathies. "I don't know why you care, Templar, but yes, she is all right. It remains to be seen about the baby." That was a bit misleading; his spells had stopped the miscarriage, but he would have to provide a regular healing regimen for Caitlyn to make sure that the pregnancy continued healthily and that their daughter did not suffer permanent damage from this. But Cullen did not need to know that, he thought spitefully.

Varric kept Caitlyn's feet lifted, walking behind Anders. As they left the Gallows, he gave the Knight-Captain a parting glance of apology. Cullen stared back, looking utterly wretched.

The guards were shocked when the Viscountess's husband and friend carried her in unconscious. "What happened to Her Grace?" one exclaimed.

"Meredith Stannard cast a Holy Smite against the First Enchanter—and then killed him—and did it with the Viscountess standing close at hand," Anders said, seething but taking a perverse kind of pleasure in saying it, knowing it would infuriate them.

The guards exclaimed in outrage. "She's out of control," muttered a guard darkly. "Doing that in the presence of the Viscountess, knowing she is a mage and is pregnant—and what was the problem with the First Enchanter?"

"She silenced him," Anders replied with a glance back, continuing to carry Caitlyn to the private quarters. "He knew something against her and she killed him to silence him." Leaving the guards to their indignation, he took down the wards on the inner Keep and carried Caitlyn inside with Varric.

They took her into the master bedroom and lifted her gently onto the soft, luxurious bed. Varric gazed at her for a moment, pity in his face. "I'll leave you to it," he grunted. "Do you want me to get the lad?"

Anders considered for a moment before nodding. "People are going to talk, and it's best that he hear from me first."

Varric nodded and left to find Mal. As soon as he was gone and Anders was alone with Caitlyn, the magnitude of what had just happened struck him, overwhelming his emotions. Tears formed in his eyes and began to pour down his cheeks, and choking sobs overtook him. He crawled on the mattress and leaned over Caitlyn's abdomen, lifting the tunic she wore to kiss the bump through his tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, aware that his daughter could not hear him or understand him even if she had been able to hear, but needing to say it. "I couldn't protect you... I couldn't stop that... but please, please keep fighting." In an obsessive, almost manic rush, he cast a healing spell again, then another and another, the fear that he would lose her—or that she would be permanently maimed—if he did not cast this spell, then this one, then this, taking over him. He shook and trembled as his mana finally ran out again, then lay down beside Caitlyn, curling against her and placing a hand over the bump as if he could protect them by doing that.

This moment was interrupted by the distraught, panicked shouts of a young boy. Mal burst into the bedroom, eyes wide with fear. Varric hovered in the hallway, backing away and pulling the door gently to give the family their privacy. "Mother!" Mal exclaimed as Anders sat upright. The sight of Anders' tear-stained face sent the child into despair. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. "You've been crying. Mother... is Mother going to die? Tell me the truth," he begged his father.

Anders wiped his face and tried to calm himself. "She is not going to die," he said, projecting utter confidence as he spoke. "I promise you, son. Your mother is going to be fine."

"But..."

Anders closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself for this. "You wanted the truth and you have the right to know. Your sister is the one in danger. Your mother was knocked over by the Knight-Commander, and that can cause a pregnant woman to lose the pregnancy. And sometimes babies are fine if they are born early, but your sister is too young to survive yet." When Mal gasped in fear, Anders added, "I am trying to save your little sister and heal the injuries she may have suffered when your mother fell."

Mal whimpered and moved forward to Anders' outstretched arms. Anders enveloped his son in a tight hug. "I will do everything I can," he whispered, rubbing Mal's back tenderly. "I promise."

Caitlyn awakened in an hour. As she came to, she noticed that she was in her bedroom at the Keep. They had carried her home. Mal was there as well, sitting in a chair, gazing fixedly at his mother, fear in his eyes.

The first thing she did was feel her abdomen. The bump was still present... but she was not sure if it would go away immediately if... if...

"I've been with you the whole time," Anders said quietly, "casting healing spells periodically. She's still there, love. You may notice some blood, but your internal bleeding has stopped, you are still carrying her, and she's fighting back."

A shuddering sob burst from her. "Anders," she whispered. "You... she really is still there? I haven't lost her?"

"She is still there. While you were asleep, I cast some additional spells to diagnose the... situation... and most of the damage was not to her. It was to the placenta... the afterbirth, though that's not an accurate term right now..." He trailed off, aware that he was rambling from his own anxiety. "If you had fallen forward... I am not sure I could have saved her. But as it was, I think she was just jostled. It shouldn't be permanent. She is still fragile, and we have to be careful. I'll need to cast focused healing spells and you'll need to take potions several times a day for the next several days, and I don't think you need to walk about much while that is going on... but the immediate danger has passed."

Caitlyn let out her breath, relief washing over her at his words. Their daughter was still alive within her after all. Meredith had not killed her. "You saved her, then," she said. "You have saved everyone still alive in this family at some point, love. Every one of us."

In spite of the unease, fear, and increasing fury that Anders was feeling, a gentle smile formed on his face at her words.

Over the next week, Caitlyn stayed in her own quarters, going only to the bath and her private study, both of which adjoined the master bedroom. She did not feel much pain from her own injuries anymore, just a mild bruising, but she was petrified of moving too much and too abruptly while her unborn daughter was in a fragile state. The pets frequently joined her to keep her company, even Pounce. True to his word, Anders left the Keep clinic several times a day to bring her a fresh potion and cast a healing and a diagnostic spell at her to speed the process of recovery and ensure that it was proceeding as they hoped. Mal always accompanied his father, watching with a solemn gaze as Anders worked.

The first night, Leandra, Charade, and all of the couple's friends and companions visited, even Fenris, who had apparently forgiven them for listening to Danarius—or had set it aside in view of the fact that Danarius was dead and Caitlyn had almost lost her baby, not because of a mage's spell, but because of the deed of a Templar. Leandra was distraught when she burst into the master bedroom, immediately giving Anders a smothering hug and then rushing toward Caitlyn as she rested in bed.

"My poor dear," Leandra cried, giving Caitlyn a brief hug, not wanting to encourage her to move too much. "I'm so, so sorry that this happened. I never suffered this. I never feared this. I cannot even imagine what it is like."

"Anders was able to prevent me from miscarrying," Caitlyn said quietly. "I have to be careful over the next few days, though."

"Of course," Leandra agreed. She gave Anders a tender look, then turned back to her daughter. "And the First Enchanter! The poor man! Why did she do it? What was she thinking?"

"Aunt," Charade said quietly, giving Leandra a look of dismay that she would mention this aspect of it so soon.

"No, it's all right," Caitlyn said to her cousin, her voice harder. "I don't mind talking about that. Meredith cast the Smite because Anders and I had gone to confront Orsino about the fact that he corresponded with the man who was hunting women, including you, Mother."

Leandra shuddered. "That was a rumor... I hoped it wasn't true..."

"It is true," she said harshly. "And I am almost certain it is also true that Meredith knew this and was using it to blackmail Orsino into taking her side whenever I held a vote to change policies about mages and Templars. The Knight-Captain was there and he was shocked to hear about Orsino. Meredith was not shocked. And as soon as Orsino said that he was being blackmailed, she cast the Holy Smite, not caring in the least that I was right there." She decided not to mention the fact that Anders had also been caught in it, because that might require an explanation of how he was able to use magic to heal her so quickly. A quick shared glance with him told her that he understood.

He then spoke up. "She didn't care in the least... or she did it on purpose because Caitlyn was right there, a mage, with child."

Leandra gasped. "Surely she wouldn't..."

Anders stifled a scoff for Caitlyn's sake, since this was her mother. "You don't know her as we do, Lady Hawke—and you are lucky in that, but oh yes, she would. Silencing the First Enchanter may have been the main point, but I am sure she was waiting for an opportunity to attack Cait. This gave her one."

A shadow passed over Caitlyn's face at these words.

Once her mother, cousin, and friends had left, and Mal had gone to his bedroom, she turned to Anders. "We got him killed," she said quietly. "Now that the immediate danger for me has passed, I thought about it. We caused his death. It's yet more blood dripping from my crown."

He did not like this turn of her thoughts at all. Climbing on the bed and resting beside her, he placed an arm gently around her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "He made the choice to conspire with that murderer, and Meredith made the choice to execute him. You didn't do this."

"He would be alive if we had not gone there."

"Cait," he urged her, "you told me five years ago that I was not responsible for the evil that other people did, that even if it was possible that some people might have been alive if... certain things hadn't happened... it was not my fault if others killed them. This wasn't something that we could have anticipated."

"Maybe we should have," she said bitterly. "We knew what Meredith was. We should have prepared for the worst."

"It didn't even occur to me that she might summarily execute the First Enchanter in front of us," he said. "We know now that she is capable of anything, but..." He trailed off.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "How many people are going to die for the cause? How much blood will there be in my wake even if I am not directly responsible for all of it? That's what upsets me, love. Even when it may be unavoidable, it still hurts."

His heart went out to her. "I know," he whispered, hugging her carefully. "I know. It does hurt. But it's all right to let it hurt. It's all right to doubt, so long as that doubt doesn't take away hope and motivation."

She considered his words, finally nodding. "You're right."

On the second day, an unexpected guest arrived at the Keep, bearing a potted plant. Donnic Hendyr reluctantly admitted Cullen Rutherford into the Keep, aware that Anders—who, with Caitlyn's approval, was overseeing the household for the time being—would not like it, but unwilling to turn the man away himself.

He was not wrong. When he showed Cullen into Anders' clinic, the mage took one look at the Knight-Captain before breathing heavily to try to control his ire. He nodded curtly to the guardsman, dismissing him, and took Mal gently by the shoulder. "Son... go to your room or the library for a moment, would you? I need to talk privately with this Templar."

Mal gazed with wide eyes at Cullen. He knew that his father was seething, but he was not sure why—it seemed that the Templar had brought the plant as a gift for Mother, which was nice, but... oh. Understanding, he nodded at once and scampered away.

Breaking away from the Healers whom he was supervising, Anders stormed toward Cullen, grabbed him by the shoulder, and shoved him out of the clinic, closing the doors behind them. Fury was written in every line of his face. "Why are you here?" he demanded.

Cullen was taken aback. "I brought this for the Viscountess," he protested. "Is she all right? And... the baby?"

"She is all right, and the baby—our daughter—is holding on," Anders said between clenched teeth. "You can tell your boss that she'll have to try again."

Cullen got angry at this. He set the plant down on a nearby table and glared at Anders. "I didn't agree with what she did," he spat. "She was out of line. There was no need... Orsino wasn't threatening anyone... and to do that in the presence of a pregnant woman, a pregnant mage, our Viscountess..."

"She did it on purpose because Caitlyn is a pregnant mage," Anders said recklessly, not caring about using her proper name in front of an outsider. "And I'm not interested in the sympathies of a Templar, especially the Knight-Captain. Your sympathy and your anger mean nothing to me if you won't do anything about Meredith."

"What do you think I can do?" Cullen exclaimed. "Legally, what can I do?"

Anders saw his point, but he was still not inclined to back down. Seeing Cullen Rutherford, whom he had known in the Fereldan Circle during the worst time of his life—when he was kept from Caitlyn and Mal—set off something dark and angry within him, something that refused to be tempered. "You won't act because you hate mages too," he retorted defiantly. "That's why, and that is the only reason why."

"What in the Void is your problem with me?" Cullen exploded, his own patience finally gone. "There are times when I think you hate me more than you hate her, and I cannot understand why! I did not know about Alrik. I never did anything to you in Kinloch Hold. I've never hurt your family, either."

"Haven't you?" Anders replied. He glowered at Cullen. "You made the mages Tranquil, didn't you? Caitlyn's second cousin, Enchanter Amell..."

"That's what you think?" he said in disbelief. "No—I didn't make them Tranquil. When mages failed the Harrowing and became abominations, I was sometimes assigned to give them merciful deaths. A few times, before the blood mage coven took over. I didn't do anything to your wife's cousin."

Anders turned aside, unable to meet Cullen's eyes for a moment. As furious and upset as it still made him to think of that, he knew that it was an excuse right now. He had remembered that Cullen had been the Templar waiting outside the chamber for his own Harrowing. But he could not say what the true problem was, because acknowledging it embarrassed him.

"I didn't come here to have my sympathies praised, in any case," Cullen continued, his voice calmer. "This isn't about me. I came to give your family this plant, to wish health to her and the baby, and to apologize for the Knight-Commander's despicable behavior again, since she will never do it herself."

Anders eyed the plant, with its pale cerulean bell-shaped blossoms and bright red stamens. "That is a crystal grace plant. It has healing properties. Is that why you chose it? We have plenty of potions already, and I am a master Spirit Healer," he said pointedly.

"Of course," the Templar agreed, sounding relieved to discuss the plant and not relive times that were unpleasant for both of them. "That wasn't why I chose it. I just thought that Her Grace would think it pretty... and there is also a story about them..."

"A story," Anders repeated skeptically.

"A fable. I read about it in a botanical book. An Orlesian noblewoman had them planted throughout her gardens and decided that she wanted hers to ring like bells... so she hired a Circle mage to enchant them to do that." Oblivious to the glower that had again formed on Anders' face at these words, Cullen continued. "And when she got sick of the noise, she set fire to her gardens!"

Anders spoke up again, rage seething from his words once more. "How dare you? Get out," he snarled. "Leave the Keep and take the plant with you!"

Cullen stared at Anders in surprise. "I wasn't finished! I didn't mean... The lesson was that the plant is perfect as the Maker created it! That was why I chose it!"

Anders was struck silent as the implications hit him. He glanced quickly around, collapsing in the closest chair when he saw that there was one nearby, and buried his face in his hands. He was able to see just enough between his fingers to note that Cullen sat down in a second chair, staying mercifully silent.

Finally he raised his head. "Perfect as the Maker created it," he repeated, unable to look Cullen in the eye.

Cullen nodded. "That was my reason. It didn't occur to me that the fable might sound like something else at first. I'm sorry about that."

Anders released a shuddering sigh. After several seconds of silence, he spoke again. "The middle of Dragon 9:27 through 9:30, when I was shut up in the Circle, was the worst time of my life," he said quietly. "I knew that she was out there. I knew that she had lost her father to death at the same time that she lost me to capture, and I wasn't there for her when she was grieving and pregnant. And for a long time, I didn't know if our son was alive... if she had lost him due to the other traumas and suffering. This is not the first time I have had to fear that the woman I love might lose our child," he said miserably.

"I'm sorry," Cullen said quietly. "I can't imagine."

"And that was when you came to Kinloch Hold," he added. "You were there. And then, when I thought I had left behind all the Fereldan Templars... when I thought I was making a fresh start in Kirkwall with her and our son..."

"I was here."

Anders nodded without a word.

Cullen sighed, rubbing his head. "I saw horrible things in Kinloch Hold, Anders—my lord, I mean. Warden. What should I..."

"Just call me Anders here."

"Very well. You had escaped, so you didn't see what I saw. Almost all of the adult mages, slain or turned into abominations against their will, because of a few blood mages. I was confined by a demon myself, my Templar training useless against it. This demon tortured me." He shuddered. "It got into my mind. It violated my mind, and the kinds of thoughts it forced upon me..." He broke off, shaking his head as if to clear it of those memories. "When the Blight was over, I was reassigned to Kirkwall to get me away from that place and the bad memories that might get triggered by being there. I too looked at Kirkwall as a fresh start. And the Knight-Commander seemed to have the right idea about how to prevent something like that from happening here."

"The First Enchanter conspired with a murderer," Anders pointed out. "With no hope for anything else in life but the Circle walls, no family, no one to love—because they are afraid to love, afraid that it will be used to hurt them—this is what a few desperate people will turn to."

Cullen sighed again, unwilling to concede Anders' point, but also unwilling to argue to the contrary. "She has changed," he said abruptly. "You probably have never liked or approved of her, but she is... different."

Anders rose from his seat, scowling again. "You asked earlier what you could do. If she has symptoms of lyrium sickness, telling people about it—telling the Divine—is something that you could do."

"I don't know if that's it. I've seen lyrium sickness, and this is... different and worse, somehow. I can't describe it." He gazed at Anders. "I assume the Viscountess means to tell the Divine about this latest... incident."

Anders actually did not know if Caitlyn had thought about that yet, and he definitely hadn't, but he did not mind speaking for her now that Cullen had mentioned it. If she hadn't thought about it, she would agree with the idea when he repeated it to her. "She does," he said firmly. "This is unacceptable."

"I agree. And I will back you up if you need my word to make sure that the Divine punishes the Knight-Commander for this."

Anders nodded. "Thank you for the plant. I'll tell the fable to her. The whole thing," he added with a wry, somewhat forced smile.

"You're welcome," Cullen said. "I hope she and the baby will be all right."

When he was gone, Anders fingered a blossom of the plant, considering. Mal would want to go back to the clinic. He was probably very impatient, and Anders did not mean to keep his son waiting for much longer, but he did have one last thing to do. He took a quick detour to his private office and unlocked his desk drawer.

He was searching for a particular document, which it did not take long to find: the list of Meredith's cronies and supporters among the Templars that Ser Thrask had compiled for him. Considering for a moment, he dipped a quill in the inkwell before scratching a thick, black line through Cullen's name.

"I cannot figure him out," Caitlyn said later when Anders had told her about the crystal grace plant, Cullen's fable about it, and the fact that Meredith had finally gone too far for him. "The plant is lovely, and the story is nice—once we realize it's not a magic-bashing fable," she said wryly. "What he implied he finally seems to believe is nice too, but I don't understand him. He changed his mind about Ser Keran and talked to Leliana to confirm the Knight-Vigilant's words... but then he turned up on Thrask's list as a supporter of Meredith."

"I crossed him off," Anders admitted.

Varric, who was present, spoke up. "Perhaps he's undergoing a change of mind currently and that's why it's confusing. He might not know where he stands either, just that it's not beside Meredith."

She nodded. "That could be it. I'm just furious that it took the murder of Orsino—which is what it was—and me almost losing the baby for him to see."

"Horrific mage suffering always seems to be necessary for others to see the problem," growled Anders. "I'm sick of it. I'm sick of a lot of things."

Mal was also there, standing close to his mother. "Is my little sister all right now?" he said.

"For the most part," said Anders. "Your mother still has to be careful and take her potions." He gazed at Mal sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry that you have had to grow up seeing... all of this."

"We both are," Caitlyn said in somber tones.

The boy hugged her carefully, then drew away at once, clearly afraid of hugging her around the waist too hard. "It's all right," he said. "I'm tough."

In spite of themselves, they smiled, as did Varric. "I guess so," she said.

"Did you send the letter to Val Royeaux?" Varric asked after a moment.

Caitlyn nodded. "If Justinia won't do anything to Meredith after this, I'm giving up on her—and I will tell Leliana as much. Enough is enough."

Toward the end of that week, others from Caitlyn's inner circle came to visit, including her Small Council. Mistress Selby, the leader of the Mage Underground, was especially outraged by the news.

"She destroyed my sister," Selby seethed. "She made my sister Tranquil, but most people do not mind that. She turned a blind eye to the rape of children at the Gallows. But that does not seem to sate her bloodlust, and now, she is trying to slaughter the children of mages in the womb! Is there no limit?"

"For her personally? I doubt it," Anders said.

"She also denied the First Enchanter his trial!" Selby exclaimed. "That was something that the Grand Cleric commanded, the right to a Chantry trial."

"You know, that's an excellent point," Caitlyn said with a frown. "I should have included that in my letter to the Divine... but I'll tell the Grand Cleric." Her gaze hardened. "I am not going to the Gallows again unless it is with the entire City Guard surrounding me, but I am going to summon her to the Keep to answer for herself once I am recovered. The Circle is supposed to have a new First Enchanter too, and I haven't heard a word that one has been appointed. If she won't pick one, I'll have the Circle mages do it."

About a week later, on the day of Meredith's hearing at the Keep, Caitlyn made sure that her appearance was as intimidating as possible. She wore her best red and black gown, which she had worn to the moot that voted for her as Viscountess and at the Landsmeet of Ferelden, and had her hair done up in a complicated crown of small coiled braids, curls, and a regal bun. Making sure to wear the diadem of Kirkwall and keep her most elaborate staff at hand, she sat at the table, where her chair was raised higher than everyone else's.

The Knight-Commander marched defiantly into the chamber, her face pinched and angry. Caitlyn made her most menacing glare. "Take your seat," she said coldly to Meredith as the latter approached. Meredith sneered back but complied. Glowering, Caitlyn began. "Meredith Stannard, Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, you are here to answer for your actions thirteen days ago on the steps of the Gallows, summarily executing the late First Enchanter Orsino without a trial or a hearing, and immediately prior, performing a Holy Smite on him in the close proximity of two innocent mages, including me—knowing very well that I am with child."

"Are you not mentioning the outrageous accusation you made against me, then?" Meredith retorted.

A dark smile formed on Caitlyn's face. "Oh, we can discuss that too. I welcome that discussion," she said. "But first, the facts that are beyond any dispute whatever. You were reckless and likely malicious in your actions, and you attacked the Viscountess of Kirkwall."

Meredith bared her teeth for a moment, glaring back at Caitlyn like a predator. "I was protecting Your Grace from an admitted blood mage."

Grand Cleric Petrice, looking indignant and affronted, spoke. "You defied my edict that mages accused of crimes shall have the right to appeal to priests."

"That edict applies to mages who deny their guilt," said Meredith.

"Or might not be guilty," muttered Anders.

Meredith sneered at him before continuing. "It does not apply to mages who admit their crimes, as the late First Enchanter did."

"Orsino did not admit to blood magic practice," retorted Caitlyn.

"He admitted to conspiring with a known maleficar, murderer, and apostate," said Meredith. "He admitted to writing a letter to the depraved killer saying that he was leaving books in a secret location and referring to himself as a 'friend and colleague' of the killer. He waived his 'right' to an appeal."

"You know a great deal about the contents of a single letter that you saw only briefly," Caitlyn said menacingly. "But let us return to that later. Even if Orsino did waive his right to an appeal—which I still maintain is debatable—you cast a Holy Smite powerful enough to knock three mages backward when he was not threatening anyone. You did this in my presence, the Viscountess of Kirkwall, and you knew that I was five months pregnant. Am," she amended. "Fortunately Anders is a Spirit Healer, and the spirit who aids him helped renew his magic. If I had lost this baby, your position would be much worse."

Meredith met Caitlyn's glare with her own. "I struck down a blood mage who conspired with another blood mage who had threatened your own mother. It is hardly my fault that you were standing too close. Since you had evidence against him, you should not have been so near when you confronted him, for fear of what he would do, if nothing else. That is nothing to do with me."

Anders looked ready to strike her down at this. Noticing his fury, Caitlyn placed a hand gently on his thigh under the table. He breathed in and out, trying to calm himself.

"We'll see what Divine Justinia has to say about your conduct," Caitlyn said, a falsely sweet smile on her face. "Orsino did nothing to threaten me. You are the one whose actions threatened me and threatened the life of my innocent unborn baby. And on the subject of Orsino..."

"Your husband and this dwarf were there," she interrupted rudely, gesturing at Anders and Varric, "but no one else in this Council was. Do they know that you baselessly accused me of keeping Orsino's secret for blackmail—to coerce him into siding with me in the little votes you would hold for the Circle?"

"He said you had done it."

"He said it because he knew you and your husband would believe any mage and disbelieve any Templar! No one else will believe the desperate claim of a maleficar who knew I was about to punish him for his crimes."

"Your behavior is also suspect," Caitlyn shot back. "Although Cullen was shocked, you were not—and again, just now, you seem to remember the contents of that single letter awfully well, especially since you only saw it for a few seconds. It's almost as if you had already seen others," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. Around her, the members of her Council shifted uneasily.

"You have no proof of this preposterous accusation," Meredith spat, her posture defensive and closed. "I was not shocked because I am surprised by nothing that mages do. I see the threat with clearer eyes than most!"

"You are determined to be antagonistic, aren't you, saying that in the presence of two mages, one of whom is your Viscountess."

"I am a servant of the Chantry, not a subject of Kirkwall."

"You truly believe that," Caitlyn said in awe. "You really think that you can do as you please. Well, Knight-Commander, you are wrong." She gestured to Aveline, who got up from her seat and went to the door, awaiting further instruction. "The Grand Cleric and I asked some questions of the Circle this week. You have not appointed a new First Enchanter, nor have you permitted the Circle mages to hold a vote to choose one themselves."

"After this latest discovery of blood magic high in the ranks, I do not trust any of them, and I will not permit it without investigating all of them."

"Nonetheless, by Divine order, the Circle mages of Kirkwall have the right to a representative in the group of four who can vote on changes. If there is no First Enchanter, or if they do not want the First Enchanter to be that vote, they may choose someone else—and they have done so. Guard-Captain," she said to Aveline, who opened the door.

Alain of Starkhaven, leader of the Arcane Guard, stood in the threshold, Cullen Rutherford beside him. Meredith drew back and hissed in surprise. She glared at Cullen in outrage. "You!" she exploded. "You let this happen!"

Cullen gazed back evenly. "Divine order, Knight-Commander."

"I should have known after you raised your voice to me that day!" Meredith exclaimed. "After you had the temerity to yell at me for performing a sacred duty of the Templar Order!"

"That's enough," Caitlyn said harshly. "The Circle mages have voted for Enchanter Alain to speak for them, and I have informed Divine Justinia of this. She may choose to appoint him First Enchanter herself." She rose from her seat abruptly, smiling at Meredith in checkmate. "You had best hope that we don't find any hard evidence that you knew about Orsino's dealings, because if the Divine doesn't sack you for what you have already done, she certainly will for that." With a final dark smile, she moved to dismiss the hearing.

In the coming weeks, as she continued to recover and waited for Justinia to respond, Caitlyn had a lot to think about, and her thoughts were very troubled.

The first thing that she did after the Circle mages chose Alain was to hold a vote again to ban separation of mage relatives—or mage and Templar relatives—from each other in Kirkwall and to request the reassignment of all mages elsewhere in Thedas who were related to a Kirkwall mage, if they so wished to relocate. Alain voted for it without hesitation, and with three out of four votes, the motion finally passed, even as Meredith's face contorted with rage at having been outmaneuvered.

It should have felt like a victory to Caitlyn—but it didn't. That evening, after the vote, she talked about it with Anders, with Mal sitting across from them in the sitting room reading a book, and then she realized why. She got up and gazed out the tall windows, gesturing discreetly for Anders to join her.

"When I first began to plan everything four years ago, it was theoretical," she said quietly, so that Mal could not overhear. "It seemed like such a clean, neat plan—ally with the ruthlessly ambitious priest who didn't mind mages, get Elthina out, become Viscountess, make gradual, piecemeal reforms to the Circle, and everything would work out just fine." She gazed quickly back at their son, then down at the bump that still, thankfully, grew.

Anders squeezed her hands sympathetically.

"But the reality has been different. We didn't even know for sure that Mal was a mage until after I returned from the trip to that Warden fortress. It's different now that he's over eight and a half years old and I'm still fighting for every scrap of minor change to the Circle itself, let alone radical changes. Let alone the notion that mage children don't have to be taught there if they have other options or that they should have the freedom to live normal lives no matter what their skills." She closed her eyes briefly and placed her hands over her bump for a moment, then lifted them and gazed at Anders again. "Meredith is still here, and if nothing changes, our son will be sent to her Circle someday. She almost killed this one, this baby that for years we didn't think we could have. Our baby almost died, and she would have if not for Justice. I am sure that today's reform will mean a lot to some mages, and I am glad for that, but it's not good enough anymore, Anders. The theoretical plan has not worked out as I hoped—and I should have known that it wouldn't; plans never do work out exactly as we intend. My hands are bloody from all I've done and overseen, and for scraps! I have come to think, now, that you were right all along."

"How so?" he asked, holding her.

"I should have demanded everything at once," she said. "Now, the moment has passed. The enemy has mustered its forces in opposition and they still have the upper hand in many ways. And the woman who should be our most powerful ally doesn't want to use hard power."

He pulled her close, stroking the back of her head as he tried to comfort her. "What do you think we should do?" he asked frankly. "We can't give up."

"No, we cannot," she agreed, drawing away. "I think that I'm going to have to change people's minds by changing what they are used to. Sometimes change comes from the top down rather than the bottom up, and this may be one of those times. Now that I have Alain, I'm going to push for everything I can. But that still only tinkers at the edges. For the big things, things like making Circles optional or removing them from Chantry authority, the Divine has to do that. And in the latter case, I seriously doubt that she intends to."

Anders squeezed her hands again and gazed ahead into the night sky with her. He could not argue with that, and he did not know what to tell her.

The next day, a messenger from the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux came to the Keep to deliver a messages. His fellows had already paid visits to the Chantry and the Gallows, he informed her as he presented his scroll to Caitlyn.

"Your Grace," he bowed. "Message from Divine Justinia. Most Holy extends her prayers and sympathies to your family."

With a pounding heart, Caitlyn accepted the message and thanked him, directing him to a small room to relax and refresh. She opened the scroll and read it quickly, then again. Even then, she was not sure how to feel about it.

"I need to call a Council meeting," she murmured to herself.

By the time of the surprise meeting that she called for that afternoon, rather than the next morning, most of the Small Council members had already heard the news—or some version of it. For the sake of clearing up inaccurate rumors, Caitlyn decided to open with a full account of the facts.

"All right," she said, opening the message from Justinia. "As you may know, today, we received word that the Divine has reprimanded Meredith."

"Reprimanded," Anders said under his breath, shaking his head. Across the table, Mistress Selby also looked extremely dissatisfied.

"She warned Meredith that if I had lost the baby, or if she does anything like this again when lesser force will suffice, then she would be relieved of her duties. It's something," she muttered. She was not very pleased herself.

"It's barely anything, with all due respect, Your Grace," said Selby. "What of the First Enchanter? She did not need to kill him. What of the allegation that she was keeping his secret to coerce him?"

"The Divine wrote that she could not punish Meredith specifically for her act against an admitted maleficar," Petrice said, defending Justinia. "She also said that in the absence of solid proof that Meredith knew of it in advance, there was nothing that she could do about that—but she said that she authorizes us to investigate it if we want and that she forbids Meredith from interfering."

"As if we don't have anything else to do?" Anders exclaimed. "Orsino is dead. What does it matter anymore if she was blackmailing him—unless Justinia is willing to use proof of it as a pretext for sacking Meredith. Would she?" he asked bitterly. "Would she even do that?"

"I understand that you are still upset and shaken about what happened to the Viscountess and your unborn child," said the priest, "but you need to mind your tongue, Lord Consort. Her Perfection is a holy woman and is not your enemy."

Anders looked for a moment as if he wanted to smash the head of his staff into Petrice's face. Caitlyn quickly intervened, taking control of her Council again. "That's quite enough," she said. "None of us are each other's enemy here. Returning to the letter, and the subject of the First Enchanter position, it also said that she officially confirmed Enchanter Alain in that post."

"And what does that change?" said Selby. "He already represents the Circle mages."

"It makes it official," said Caitlyn, "and he's an unconventional choice. He escaped Starkhaven's Circle and lived as an apostate for a while. He joined the Arcane Guard. He has a nontraditional experience, just as I do, and it does mean something that the Divine affirmed a person like that as First Enchanter. She didn't have to, but she did anyway, and it does send a message."

"We need more than messages," Anders said quietly, unable to look up.

After Caitlyn dismissed the meeting, Anders and Mistress Selby waited behind to speak with her. Anders spoke first.

"She said that she welcomed Alain's 'loyalty to the Circle,' since he went there with Thrask," he said, almost spitting the words. "Loyalty to the Circle. Maybe she said it to make him seem less 'controversial,' I suppose, though you and I are far more so. Whatever Game reason she had for saying that, though, that kind of language undermines what we are trying to do. Justinia is too far removed from Kirkwall to understand what's going on here. Even when you write to her, she isn't here, so she doesn't get it as we do. That is the problem."

She closed her eyes briefly, then nodded. "I know. I agree with you, Anders, but in the big picture, her words in a letter sent to very few people don't mean much. It's not worth so much anger."

He sighed. "You're right. It just seems to me that she is still trying to appease people who think mages should literally be eliminated."

Mistress Selby spoke up after a moment of silence. "The Divine said that we are free to investigate Meredith. I might take her up on that offer. There are Templars inside the Circle who might be able to gather information."

"Please don't endanger your network for this," said Caitlyn, "but if you think it can be done without risking them too much, certainly."

The woman nodded. "I had another idea as well. I do not know how much people in Lowtown know, really know, of what has happened lately. This did not affect Kirkwall's common people like the attack on the clinic did, or the Qunari assault, or even the execution of the rapist Templars. This only affected Your Grace's family and the First Enchanter, who was a distant figure to them. If the story is that Meredith executed him for conspiring with the Butcher of Lowtown, whom they did know of, it could be a problem. You did not miscarry, after all, so they might see it as regrettable and careless of her but ultimately no harm done."

"That is a good point," Caitlyn said, frowning.

"I thought of holding a people's forum in the Lowtown marketplace to tell them the truth," she continued. "And muster support for Meredith's removal. Some of them have children or siblings in the Circle. We need to put pressure on Justinia to get rid of her, it seems. I know I don't require your permission to speak to the people, and doing that is something of a tradition now in Kirkwall," she said with a wry smile, "but I am asking for it anyway, since I am on your Small Council."

Caitlyn and Anders exchanged glances. "You have my permission," she said slowly, "but do be careful. There must be a number of people who know that you lead the Mage Underground and even more who suspect it."

"I will be as careful as I feel is right," she said. "This is bigger than me. And Your Grace has taken the biggest risk of any of us by ruling openly as a mage. Nonetheless... I will try."

Notes: Regarding the first part of this chapter... yes, I went soft. You're welcome. As it turns out, I do have a limit for how much I'm able to let these poor characters suffer.

The story about crystal grace is taken from a DA:I codex entry about it.