Notes: I am going to be posting several chapters at once. There are 91 in total (we've still got an entire war to get through!) and it's going to take too long to dribble them all out with five-day breaks. I'm also not sure if fanfiction dot net will last long enough for me to finish posting this here unless I speed up posting chapters for this already completed story.

Song inspiration is "Last Hope" by Paramore.

Chapter 53: The Last Spark of Hope

Anders, Varric, and Donnic Hendyr watched carefully as Mistress Selby spoke to Lowtown at the top of the steps of what had been the Qunari compound. A banner bearing the heraldry of Kirkwall waved gently behind her, giving her the imprimatur of official support—as, of course, she had, being a member of the Viscountess's Small Council and in agreement with her ruler on the subject of which she was speaking.

Her speeches would take place there rather than the Lowtown marketplace. Varric had reported to Caitlyn that the merchants in the marketplace had been dismayed at the idea of a return to public rallies that took place in the commercial square, complaining that it hurt their business for political agitators to take over the space and crowd out customers, especially since fights were always a danger. Although she had not agreed with the implicit comparison to Mettin's mob—or Petrice's anti-Qunari mobs a couple of years ago, for that matter—Caitlyn had seen his point. The merchants were burned by violence-inciting agitators and did not want any political speechifying to take place in the business district anymore. In fact, Caitlyn had reflected, the domestic peace in Kirkwall for the greater part of 9:36 was probably why people had come to approve of her rule, so better not to throw it away. She urged Selby to go to the old Qunari building rather than the marketplace, and the older woman had agreed without protest.

It was a better location anyway, Varric thought—at least for the speaker's ability to be heard. From the top of the steps, Selby's voice carried across the crowd very well, far better than it would have in the marketplace. But there was also a concern, which had existed in the market but was a far greater risk here. Standing atop the steps, comparatively isolated, Mistress Selby was an easy target for anyone with ranged weapons, and any such assassin would not need to worry too much about hitting others by accident. He, Anders, and Donnic—plus several guards whom Donnic and Aveline particularly trusted—were keeping a discreet eye out for suspicious movements from the crowd and the windows of the surrounding buildings.

"I don't like this," muttered Donnic. "She's exposed."

"I guess that's why we are here," said Varric, patting Bianca affectionately.

"Anders could cast small shield barriers," Caitlyn said when they reported back with their concerns. "A big barrier will muffle sound, but smaller ones might suffice."

"Are you sure? The glyphs are visible to others," Anders said.

"I know they are. I've cast them myself. Ask her, and if she doesn't want you to do it, then you had better stay away. There was an attempt on your life before."

"And yours," he said quietly.

She nodded, remembering the attack on the Keep clinic. After a moment of silence passed, she spoke again. "What did Selby have to say?"

"Today she just spoke about Meredith, Orsino, and... you," he said. "She didn't excuse him, but she emphasized the fact that he confessed his crime, that Meredith blackmailed him, and that she did... what she did. I think the crowd was largely on our side." He frowned, remembering. "She did say that she would speak further on mage rights in coming days."

"I need to talk to her," said Caitlyn. "I think, with Alain as First Enchanter and clearly in favor of reforms too, I need to seize the moment and hold a lot of votes. Overwhelm Meredith with changes, including some major ones, if I can. I want to coordinate that with what Selby says."

A few days later.

Mistress Selby's voice thundered angrily down the steps of the Qunari compound to her gathered crowd. Three people, a couple and an elderly man, stood to her side, looking angry. "Beside me are the parents and grandfather of a mage who was taken to the Circle at fifteen in 9:30 by Meredith Stannard!" she roared. "They were told nothing! He disappeared one evening, disappeared from the streets of Lowtown during the height of crime and gang violence. Can you imagine what they must have feared?"

The crowd roared in response.

"They only learned of his fate after Viscountess Hawke and the new Grand Cleric ordered that Circle mages have the right to contact their families. At last, as an adult, he demanded to meet with them. Were the traitorous Elthina still Grand Cleric, they would, to this day, not know if their son, their grandson, was alive or dead, free or enslaved! And their story is one of the happier ones. I have also known families who learned what became of their children after associates of mine found their children's bodies in Darktown tunnels, trying to escape so they could see their parents—"

Boos erupted from the gathered throng.

"—or from appalled Templars who saw Meredith Stannard put a child to death for crying in fear at being taken from his family, claiming that she saw a demon. She apparently did not bother to get a second opinion before summarily executing a little child for crying."

Several people started jeering and shouting. Varric and Donnic exchanged uneasy looks, hoping that no one would take advantage of the fact that the crowd was riled to attack the speaker. She was making it very easy for people to guess that she was involved in the Mage Underground. Anders also looked furious, even though he knew that Caitlyn planned to hold a vote on this very matter at once—and in fact, was using Selby's speech to turn public opinion strongly in her favor.

"If anyone but Meredith's Templars snatched children off the streets and kept it secret, it would be the crime of kidnapping!" Selby exclaimed. "If anyone else put children to death for crying, it would be the crime of murder!"

At these words, the crowd's rage boiled over. People began to call, loudly, for Meredith's removal. From somewhere in the back, a loud female voice yelled, "Hang her!" Several people nearby took that up. Although the majority of the crowd seemed uncomfortable with it, a vocal minority chanted for the Knight-Commander's execution.

"This isn't good," said Varric in an undertone. "The city heraldry is behind her, and she is on the Small Council."

Anders shrugged. "Meredith deserves it. I'd gladly tie the noose myself."

Varric gave him a sideways, skeptical glance. "I know. And how did it work out when you did it before?"

At the Keep, Caitlyn, Alain, Petrice, and Meredith sat at a table. Meredith was glowering, aware that she was about to lose the vote, but still determined to have her say.

"I heard that someone on your Council has been inciting people to call for my death," she spat.

"Mistress Selby has called attention to situations that the Council finds objectionable," Caitlyn replied coldly. "She hasn't called for your death and is not responsible for what others say."

"This is why some of us see you as a hypocrite. How is that different from what Mettin did?"

"Mettin himself called for me to be overthrown. He declared that I was an illegitimate ruler."

"According to Chantry law—"

"Do you truly wish to finish that statement, Knight-Commander?" said Petrice. "The Viscountess is free of the Circles and free to serve man with her magic, as the Prophet commanded. If the Divine disagreed, she would have interfered by now."

"This Divine is too friendly to apostates," said Meredith darkly. "The Conclaves can be in error. It has happened before. There are even some who wonder if Justinia is an anti-divine—"

Petrice interrupted sharply. "Watch your mouth or you will be suspected of conspiring with rebels and heretics."

Caitlyn was gaping in astonishment that Meredith would actually say this. She already suspected that Meredith was in league with Elthina and the proto-schismatics high in the Seekers and Templars, but to use the term "anti-divine" was almost a confession of it. That term was only applied retroactively to leaders of the Chantry who were declared to have been elected against the Maker's will, and there had only been two: Amara III, who tortured her enemies and burned people at the stake; and Theodosia II, who broke her vow of celibacy. Angrily she recalled that Meredith and her supporters had a history of insulting her for not being celibate, making vulgar comments about "spreading her legs" and attacking her for giving birth to Mal before her marriage even though she married his father. I've only had two partners in my whole life and they only know about one of them, she thought, seething. These retrogrades will attack a female mage for being intimate with her own husband.

She pushed this line of thought out of her mind before it became a spiral of rage. "The Grand Cleric is right," she said. "You should be careful of a loose tongue, Knight-Commander, given that Divine Justinia has already censured you." Meredith glowered again, and as she lowered her head, Caitlyn thought she caught an odd red gleam in her pupils. Was it from the dwarven lamplight?

The moment, barely a fraction of a second, passed, however, and Caitlyn decided to move ahead with her votes. "We have two motions to consider today," she said smoothly, a hint of smugness in her voice. "One, to rule that children will never be taken from their families without the families being informed and having the chance to see the child off."

"Why is this necessary, since you let Circle mages contact and visit with their blood relations?" snarled Meredith.

"Because the parents don't deserve to have a single hour in which they fear their child has been kidnapped or murdered, nor the child to be denied that farewell—even if they will get to visit later. I expect there are some Templars who want to wait and talk with the parents with the child right there, but have been forbidden to. What possible reason can you have for wanting parents to consider the Templars kidnappers, Meredith?"

Meredith drew herself up. "I am indifferent to what they think. They are no longer the parents. A mage child is the responsibility of the Templars."

Alain gaped in contempt and shock. Caitlyn was not surprised, she noted cynically—though it did make her angry to hear it. "They are always that child's parents," she said, thinking of her own child and the one she was still carrying. "You cannot take that away."

"The Maker ordains parenthood," added the priest piously.

Meredith glared furiously, voting against the motion out of what appeared to be little more than spite, but it passed. With a smug smile adorning her face, Caitlyn continued. "Next, something else that Mistress Selby brought to our attention. I propose that no mages will be executed as abominations if they have always worn their own faces and are not attacking anyone."

Meredith exploded. "Abominations do wear their own faces if they want!" she roared. "They don't immediately assume monstrous forms when the demon takes over!"

"Exactly," Caitlyn said. "Which is why you cannot tell whether someone is or not if they look normal. The risk of killing an innocent is too high to allow it, and real abominations would reveal themselves before long. This would not mean you couldn't defend against an attack—by anything."

"I heard about what that woman said," Meredith seethed. "Do you care to know what really happened with the crying brat? I saw Fade light flashing in the child's hands and eyes. It was a demon."

"It could have been magic bursting out on its own. The child was frightened about being taken from his parents, and mild magic sometimes bursts out if a mage is upset. There were obviously other Templars who witnessed it and didn't think it was a demon—but even if they were wrong, it doesn't change the principle. There was a difference of opinion with this one child. He should have had the benefit of a doubt with his life at stake."

"I would like to know just how Selby knows so much about what goes on inside the Circle," Meredith muttered. "I know some of my Templars have betrayed me, but..." She broke off darkly.

Caitlyn was alarmed at this turn. She knew as soon as Mistress Selby declared her intent that it was risky, but to actually hear Meredith mutter against "traitors" in the Gallows made it more real. Hurriedly she held the vote, which also passed, though the Grand Cleric was not vocally supportive of this one as she had been of the first one. It passed, and that's what matters, she thought. These are minor reforms still, but they will mean a lot to some families. As she dismissed the meeting and rose from her seat, she suppressed a smile at the thought of what she planned later.

Anders was silent and moody that evening. At last, after they had put Mal to bed and gone into their own rooms to unwind from the day before going to bed, Caitlyn decided to ask him what was wrong. "I would have thought the results of the vote today would please you," she added in confusion.

"They do," he said, though it sounded more like a mutter. "But the fact remains that you are holding votes with Meredith, the woman who tried to make you miscarry. She got 'reprimanded,' no actual consequences for her actions, and now you're having to hold these votes with her there again, as if nothing has changed. As if everything is normal."

"What else can I do, Anders? As you said, I am the one carrying our daughter. You are a father, but you can't know what it is to feel a baby growing in you. I hate Meredith for what she did. But what would you have me do? The votes don't count unless she is there, even though she always loses now."

"She overthrew a Viscount before and likely organized his murder. This fickle city acclaimed her a hero for it, too. Elthina tried Threnhold before the Chantry, as if they rule the city and have that right. Maker, I'm glad at least one of them is out of power—but the other is still here. She thinks she can commit regicide whenever a worldly leader displeases her, she tried to kill our baby, and she took Merrill, who was on your Council. She has already struck at you and will try again. We could..." He glowered and clenched his fists. "We could try to do it to her first."

Caitlyn drew back, frightened of his words and even more frightened of the look in his face. A series of blue crackles illuminated his skin before fading away.

"Anders," she said, trying to keep her voice calm and not exacerbate his anger, since the spirit was very close to making an appearance and it seemed quite likely that it would be Vengeance right now. "As much as I might like to cut her down—and yes, with magic—we can't do that."

"The Antivans assassinate rivals all the time, and so do the Orlesians. Being in power doesn't take that away as an option."

She gaped at him; he really was digging in with this, and it unnerved her. "And look what has happened in those countries. Assassination is accepted and shrugged off. It's a bad precedent to remove her lawlessly like that. She did it to Threnhold; the Arishok did it to Dumar... If we also take out a powerful rival that way, it becomes... normal. And it shouldn't be. Laws still matter," she said, hoping that Anders saw reason and the Justice aspect of the spirit heard her words. "The vote shows that peaceful, political ways do still work, Anders. It's not hopeless yet. We don't have to turn to violence. She is on very thin ice with the Divine after what she did. We just need to be patient for a little while longer and she will be removed."

"A little while longer?" he repeated in disbelief. "Let her do one more evil thing, take one more victim, so that the Divine will get rid of her, assuming Justinia will keep her word about that? That's what you're suggesting, Caitlyn, to let her hurt someone again. What if I am that someone, or Mal, or she has another go at the baby and succeeds? Would that be worth it to be rid of her 'lawfully'?"

Caitlyn drew back, anger now overtaking her too. "I'm not even going to answer that. If you don't want to have a serious discussion, but to lecture me as if I'm taking an immoral position, this talk is at an end. Good night, Anders." She flounced onto her side of the bed, turning to face the wall and pulling the covers to her neck tightly.

He's wrong, she thought repeatedly. He's being dramatic and absurd. This was Vengeance speaking through him, nothing more. He wants her blood for what she tried to do, and he is not the Viscount, so he doesn't understand that it can't be that way. He's in one of his dark, fatalistic moods. That's all.

In a few minutes, she felt the mattress shift as he lay down all the way on the other side. The thought came unbidden to her that she might like to cuddle with him. They always cuddled... even when they didn't feel like lovemaking, they always cuddled...

He stayed on his side of the bed, stiff as a plank. She felt a pang of unfulfilled desire for closeness—but it quickly was swept away by a renewed surge of anger. Let him sulk, then, she thought, plumping her pillow and closing her eyes defiantly. Let him sleep like that and suit himself.

As a mage, Caitlyn knew that she was in the Fade and that this was just a dream, but that did not make it any easier to experience. As she walked Fade paths, she reached what seemed to be an invisible barrier. She could see and hear through it, but the... beings... on the other side did not seem to see her at all. One of them had golden hair and the other vividly red...

Me. Or rather, something impersonating me, she thought. And that's Anders. But where is Mal?

The spirit, or demon, impersonating Anders spoke. He looked prematurely aged, and his voice was hard and darkened. "You wanted to meet with me?"

Oh, my love, that cannot be you!

The one that resembled her replied, equally coldly, "I heard that you were going to join them. That Varric had talked you into it."

"I am. You refused, even though it's your responsibility—"

"Kirkwall is my responsibility."

"The only one you have now," the Anders-demon—for she was certain now that it was a demon—sneered. "That was always more important than anything else to you, even your own children. I have nothing more to say to you." He turned aside in contempt.

She woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. It's not real, she thought, trying to clear the dream from her mind. It's just what my mind shaped the Fade to be after the fight. I would never do... whatever those demons tried to make me think I had done... to my children. Anders and I would never speak to each other that way. We swore to protect each other and our children no matter what, and we will always do that.

Anders was lying on his side just on the other side of the bed. He seemed to be waking too. She felt bad if she had disturbed his sleep, but if he did wake up, she was instantly determined to make peace with him.

She crawled across the bed. He felt her approach from the shift of the mattress, the rustling sounds, and the heat of her body, and he rolled over to stare at her.

"Anders," she said softly, "let's not ever do this again. Go to sleep angry, I mean. I had a horrid dream, and..."

"So did I." He closed his eyes miserably. "I don't even want to think of it."

"Then let's not. Our minds just molded the Fade into shapes that trouble us, because we didn't resolve this before going to sleep." She reached for the side of his face. His eyes fluttered shut, and he shivered as she stroked his cheek. Encouraged, she moved closer. He breathed deeply and gazed down into her eyes, acutely aware of her warm body next to his.

He said the words first. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice was gentle.

She took a deep breath, feeling better as the dream receded. "I'm sorry too. I should remember our promise. We protect our family, no matter what. Even if that means violently."

"I shouldn't assume that it will. Vengeance... I, we, are still furious about her... but that doesn't excuse what I said to you at the end. I love you."

Warmth flooded her. "I love you too," she whispered. She reached for his head and ran her fingers into his hair, pulling him close to her, feeling the warmth of his body from head to toe as he was pressed against her. "We're on the same side. We want the same thing. We need to remember that."

He kissed her. "Yes," he said quietly. "We do."

"And the fact that we disagree sometimes about the best way to get that doesn't mean that we love each other or our children any less, either."

He let out a whimper at that and buried his head in the spot where her neck and left shoulder met. "No," he agreed. "It doesn't. It's... good that we have different ideas. It makes us stronger."

She murmured in agreement and cuddled against him as they began to nod off again. For the rest of the night, their dreams were pleasant.

"Many of you came here before to learn of children being ripped from their parents—but it does not end with that. I have heard of mages who reached adulthood, picking up training outside the Circle, who did no harm to the community and lived quiet, normal lives, who got married—and were then discovered at last and torn from their spouses!"

Mistress Selby was holding another rally. This was a far more controversial topic, since she was advocating for adult apostates rather than young children, but she had discussed it with Caitlyn and Anders. Anders had been completely in favor of talking about it publicly, and although Caitlyn had a brief pang of unease, she had quickly decided not to surrender to fear for her position and instead support what she believed. She wanted others to have the chance to live as she and Anders did, after all, and that meant that she and her allies would have to advocate for adult apostates at some point. It might as well be now, and best to start with a sympathetic group. Spouses torn from each other were that, as she knew better than most.

Anders was at the top of the compound steps this time, hidden in the shadows behind pillars at the gates, but he was watching the assembled crowd carefully. On the sidelines of the crowd, Varric, Donnic, Aveline, and other guards watched warily.

"I have summoned you here today to vote on a new proposal for the Circle," Caitlyn said. She gazed at Anders, who sat beside her. "The Lord Consort of Kirkwall does not have a vote, of course, but he does have something to say that is relevant to today's proposal, and it's best that he say it himself."

Meredith glared, even angrier than usual due to Anders' presence.

"Marriage is a sacred institution," she began, the words tripping off her tongue readily even though it felt somewhat awkward. She did believe that, but it felt odd to say it, since so much of her political scheming that used religious language had been about manipulating the faithful with appeals to their faith. "Divine annulments are extremely rare. I cannot find any instance of one being given for... what I am about to describe, in fact."

"I'm sure we know what you are about to describe," Meredith interrupted. "You and that woman Selby are planning this."

"Do not interrupt me again," Caitlyn said icily. "And what do you think? She is on my Small Council." She faced the others again. "My point is that the Chantry does not seem to consider magic a reason to annul a marriage, even a marriage of apostates."

"Do you imagine that this—this lack of action implies an endorsement?" Meredith sputtered.

"There is no shortage of priests who could send for annulments of married apostate mages who are captured," she said. "It's an uncommon enough situation that it would not be time-consuming, but for whatever reason, it isn't done. Therefore, they remain married." And this Divine certainly won't begin that practice, Caitlyn thought smugly. She wouldn't admit it, but she actually agreed with Meredith that this was a mere oversight. However, circumstances were on her side. Previous Divines, including Beatrix III, definitely might have started annulling apostate marriages when one of the pair was taken to a Circle, now that she had called attention to it, but Justinia would not. For the first time in a while, she was actually glad that Justinia was on the Sunburst Throne.

She continued. "Unfortunately, there is a history of tearing spouses from each other when one or even both have magic. In the case of both being mages, they have been sent to separate Circles. We have changed that in Kirkwall already, with the support of First Enchanter Alain," she added with an encouraging look at him, "and today I propose dealing with the other cases. When one spouse is a mage and the other is not, and the one who is a mage needs training—as determined by the Senior Enchanters—then the one who isn't a mage will still have the option of living in Circle quarters, in a private dorm with their spouse. If they have had children, they get quarters too. And of course, if the non-magical spouse does not choose to live in the Circle, they'll still have the right to see each other."

"That is nonsense," declared Meredith. "The only people who should live in a Circle are mages and Templars."

"Anders?" Caitlyn said quietly.

He gave her a pained smile, almost a grimace but not quite. In truth, he did not like the idea of uprooting people from their established lives to live in a Circle even if they could share a private bedroom. He understood why she was doing this, and he hoped that it worked—because it would improve a few lives immediately and make people comfortable with bigger changes—but he wanted those big changes now. Suppressing his discomfort, he began to speak.

"The Hero of Ferelden told the Grey Warden mages about a young woman who went to live in the Fereldan Circle despite not being a mage. She is a dwarf, actually," he said. "She went there to learn about the theory of magic because it interested her. The authorities allowed it without protest. So there is a precedent for this."

"The Fereldan Circle is widely known to have been carelessly and over-permissively run," Meredith said.

"Among your associates, perhaps. Who are they, I wonder?" She let that question hang in the air. "But that has nothing to do with letting her live there. This woman wanted to study. Scholarship may be approved by the Chantry..."

"'A learned child is a blessing unto his parents and the Maker,'" quoted Petrice as if on cue.

"But it's not a holy rite. Spouses have more of a right to be there if they want." Caitlyn peered at the Templar. "Why would you object to someone living there who could leave freely? Keeping secrets, are you?"

"You overstep yourself with your insinuations, as usual," Meredith seethed.

Caitlyn smiled menacingly and continued, her point made. "To return to my proposal. If a mage spouse does demonstrate competence and training before the Senior Enchanters, that mage will have the option of living at home."

"What!"

"Her Grace the Viscountess discussed this with me in advance," said the priest. "The Templars will still be allowed to make a phylactery."

Anders shifted uncomfortably and gazed down at his lap to hide his disapproval. He understood the compromise, but he did not like it. Neither did Caitlyn, for that matter, but she judged this far kinder and more just to couples than to risk separation. She expected that the affected couples would agree.

Petrice continued. "The mage would still be a member of the Circle, just not living in it due to already being trained and demonstrably not needing to live there for safety. Marriage is a holy union. The Maker established it at the dawn of civilization. We must not take that lightly."

"Coddling married apostates! Hawke—"

Caitlyn slammed her palms on the table and glared fiercely at Meredith. "You will address me properly."

"You are doing this because you got married as an apostate, you had this priest willing to look the other way, just like the Divine is looking the other way, and you think that gives you the right to overthrow holy law for every apostate in Thedas!"

"This is about Kirkwall," she needled as Meredith seethed. "I can't change what is done elsewhere. Are you all right, Knight-Commander?"

Meredith's eyes had become bloodshot again, Caitlyn noted. "Oh, you have some nerve," she seethed. "Go ahead, then! Hold your vote. The Maker will respond in the end."

Caitlyn hid her smug grin as she called the vote.

Anders was moody again that evening when they were alone with Mal. He seemed to be—not ignoring Caitlyn, precisely, but uncomfortable talking with her, instead spending time talking to his son about something that Mal had read that day and asked about.

At last the child seemed satisfied with what his father had explained. He returned to his current book, and Caitlyn seized the moment. Motioning for Anders to come to the windows to talk quietly, she rose from her seat.

He followed her to the windows, where they gazed out at the city. "What's the matter?" he asked softly.

"I was going to ask you that," she said. "Are you angry with me again? I know that you didn't like the compromises today..."

He stared out the windows for a time, gathering his thoughts, before replying. "I'm not angry with you at all," he said. "Rationally, I know that such things are necessary. But... advocating for phylacteries, for imprisoning whole families in Circles, myself..."

"I know. I don't like it either, darling. Truly, I don't."

"You grew up in a family with one magical and one non-magical parent, and also your siblings. How could you..."

"And if we had been discovered and it were somehow my choice, I would always have chosen to stay together as a family, even behind Circle walls," she said firmly. "Unless Mother and Carver didn't want that, of course."

"Carver probably wouldn't have."

"Carver probably would have joined the Templars to be with us," she said. "He was terrified of losing us too in those days; he just didn't show it kindly. But I would have wanted them to have the choice, instead of their husband, their children, their sisters being forcibly taken from them. Wouldn't you?"

He sighed heavily, holding her in a loose embrace and gazing down at the floor. "It's still choosing the least bad option. And it's only a choice here in Kirkwall."

"We won't ever get the big changes unless we make milder ones first. Or start a war, which we might not win," she added dourly. "Think about it, Anders. If I had been captured as an apostate after our wedding and before I became Champion, but I had the option of staying with you in our own home if Templars took my blood, I'd have extended my arm willingly."

"I understand," he croaked. "I just hate that this is the choice."

She gazed tenderly at him. "I know, and so do I, but it is a better choice than mages in Kirkwall faced only yesterday. And if you had never become a Grey Warden at all and I had never been given my freedom, and we were captured—and Mal was too," she added very quietly so that Mal could not hear, "which would you prefer, being sent to three different Circles or kept together in private family quarters?"

"You know what I would prefer. That's not even a question," he said. He put his hand on her growing belly. "But what if they become pregnant, Cait? If they share bedrooms, they might. Children born to Circle mages are taken."

"Not here. Not anymore. It isn't explicit," she said, "but that is an implication of this new law and the first one I passed with Alain. Children, any children, stay with their mage parents if they want it, and mage relatives go to the same Circle. The Chantry will not steal the babies of Circle mages here."

His amber eyes widened in admiration. "Maker, you're clever," he said, pulling her close.

"Of course," she said, smiling mildly. He nuzzled the side of her face and pulled her gently into a lounge chair that rested in front of the tall windows. "How is she? Is everything still going all right?"

He knew what she was asking. Placing a hand gently on her bump, he gazed at her with loving eyes. "She is," he said. "She's a tough little fighter."

"Naturally, given who her parents are. Her brother is too."

He gave Mal a look that bore a pang of regret. "I hate that he has had to be so tough, emotionally," he said in a voice that only she could hear. "He's just a child. When we were first expecting him, I guess I knew in the back of my mind that he would have challenges in his life, but I hoped that he could grow up with the hope and innocence that you and your siblings did..."

"That hope was always tempered by fear once I learned about mages and the Chantry and what it meant for my father," Caitlyn said quietly. "And then when I first cast a flame at the rafters. Mage children never get to be innocent."

He closed his eyes, but she noticed tears gleaming unshed in the warm light.

"And on the subject of children... after a couple of weeks, I think I am going to make my big proposal."

Anders opened his eyes and raised his gaze to her inquisitively.

She took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm going to propose that parents of a mage child will have the option of having their child taught at home if they can pay for private tutors from the Circle. Or the Grey Wardens."

Anders gasped as he realized where this was headed.

"The child will still be a mage of the Circle, just not living there. Or," she added pointedly, her green eyes suddenly bright with intensity, "if the parents are mages living in their own home, which we've just allowed for with today's vote—or, I guess, in rare cases like ours where a Warden mage has a child before Joining—then the parents can teach that child themselves."

Anders' eyes widened in surprise—and alarm. He gazed quickly at Mal, who fortunately was still engrossed in his book, and then back to her. "That's bold," he breathed. "That's... that implies... mages could live that way their whole lives..."

She was smug. "Yes, it does imply that."

"And the ones who can't afford tutors... they'd want to leave too when they were old enough..."

Caitlyn smiled knowingly at him.

"Being part of the Circle means a phylactery, I'm sure, but..." He glanced at his son again. "Everyone will know why you wanted this. It will be taken as an admission that we know Mal is a mage."

Her gaze was determined. "It is almost Harvestmere. He'll be nine in little more than three months. We can't hide it forever, Anders, and you wouldn't want to. He should not have to hide what he is, and no one else is going to ensure his freedom. We have to do it. We are his parents. And if I don't act, Meredith will."

He considered that, but only for a moment. "You are right," he said, giving her another hug. "You are absolutely right."

Caitlyn explained her plans to the two members of her Council who had interests in the matter. Petrice had eyed her shrewdly, as a silence descended for just long enough to make it clear that it was deliberate. Caitlyn realized that the priest had quickly guessed why she was determined on this specific rule, just as Anders had predicted.

However, the priest had then said, in even tones, "I have seen this sort of arrangement in Orlais. It was unofficial, of course, but among some of the nobility, especially those who lead more retired lives, it is customary to hire a Circle Enchanter as the 'family Healer' but for that person to also tutor a mage child in private. I never saw a problem arise from it."

Caitlyn remembered what she had learned about the calamity at Redcliffe in Ferelden. Evidently Petrice did not know about that, and Caitlyn had no intention of enlightening her now. Caitlyn had not managed to get a straight answer from anyone in Denerim about why it had gone so wrong, but what Anders had said of it—relayed to him by the Warden-Commander and one of the other Wardens who had seen it—was that the little boy had been susceptible to a demon because his father was in a deathly coma due to being poisoned by the same mage who had been hired to teach just months earlier. He must not have learned yet how to recognize and refuse demons. That should not be a problem for her children, and while she could not answer for the conditions of other people's homes, the danger from a demon exploiting a child's fears for family could not be any greater at home than in Circle quarters.

The separate meeting with Mistress Selby, the other Council member who had a stake in the proposal, had gone a little differently.

"Your Grace, I have a concern."

Caitlyn suspected that she knew why this ally seemed unhappy, but waited for confirmation. She nodded for her to continue.

"Of course you and your husband would want to teach your children at home, yourselves, if they turn out to have inherited their parents' magic," Selby said, also giving Caitlyn a pointed look indicating that she had guessed right about Mal. "But the private tutelage part... it creates two laws, in essence, one for the rich and one for everyone else. And children in poor families usually have duties to help the household. Losing their help is a hardship."

"I know," Caitlyn said patiently. "I grew up as a daughter of a farm couple. But it can't be helped. The rich have always been able to get private tutors for their children, while others learn what little they can. I was an exception because both of my parents were very well-educated for different reasons... but what I mean to say is that I do not think most people will mind this. They already know that they cannot afford private tutors for non-magical children."

Selby nodded. "Perhaps you are right, Your Grace. At least they will not be separated from their children permanently anymore. And in the future, who knows what else may change?"

"Many things." She gazed quickly around. "This is a secret that cannot go any further, but I was told in confidence once that the Divine has begun a program of secret research into reversing Tranquility."

Selby raised her eyebrows in shock. Hope filled her face. "If this research bears fruit, that would be a great thing for the world," she said. "I would love to talk with my sister again, truly talk with her, the one who played with me when we were little girls and told me all the fantastic stories she imagined. She cannot imagine anything now and does not even remember what it feels like. To have that back again..."

Anders spoke up, his voice heavy with feeling. "I am sometimes impatient with the Divine, but I try to remember that she is overseeing this in secret."

Selby nodded. "Do you know any details of the research?"

"I... have some ideas... but they are only that," Anders said evasively. Caitlyn immediately guessed what he must mean; she recalled that Karl had been briefly reconnected with the Fade by the mere proximity of Justice. Fade spirits were a promising avenue. Surely Justinia did not know of Anders' situation, though; that could only be the case if Elissa Cousland told Leliana, who then passed it on, and she did not believe that the women would do that. There must be some other avenue of information for Justinia.

Selby did not inquire further. "Well, whatever it is, let's pray that it works."

Caitlyn was prepared for an explosion and an avalanche of personal attacks from Meredith the day she proposed this rule, and she was not disappointed.

"You go too far," the Knight-Commander declared when Caitlyn explained her plan. "This is nothing more than a blatant attempt to help your own family, to keep your offspring in the Keep no matter what."

Caitlyn had already decided that the best way to answer this type of remark was to acknowledge the benefit to her family freely rather than prevaricating. "Of course my husband and I would rather train our children if it should become necessary, since we are capable of it," she said brazenly. "You cannot truly think that condemning a mother for wanting to help her own children is a sound argument."

"'If it should become necessary,'" quoted Meredith mockingly. "Is it an 'if' still? Your boy is, what, ten?"

"Nine in three months," Caitlyn said. "But again, that fact has not escaped us. If he, or if my as-yet unborn daughter, the one who almost died when you knocked me backward, is a mage, we are perfectly capable of training them. We're their parents; of course we would want to do that. I do not see the scandal that you claim you do."

"If he has done magic and you are keeping it secret, you are harboring yet another apostate," Meredith warned, her tone low and dangerous.

"If," Caitlyn said sarcastically, throwing Meredith's own word back at her. She turned to Alain. "What do you think of this? Would the Circle Enchanters be willing to teach children who probably would not ever live in the Gallows?"

The young mage considered. "Many would. Some would resent it, but I would suggest always making it a voluntary assignment in that case. And if these children are members of the Circle, they would have access to the library and magical supplies. They would need to visit, to study there some days... unless they did have access to family libraries of magic," he added. "I suppose Your Grace has one, but that's unusual outside of Tevinter."

Caitlyn wished immediately that he had not mentioned Tevinter, and sure enough, Meredith pounced on that. "And Tevinter is exactly what you will establish if you stay on this path," she said triumphantly. "Wealthy magic families passing down private knowledge of Maker only knows what, outside the oversight and control of moral instructors."

"Of course, every mage criminal I've ever heard of learned about it in a wealthy family's private library," Caitlyn retorted with extreme sarcasm. "And moral instructors, you say? The same 'instructors' who used to take away children's free will and then rape them? You have no grounds to accuse me of promoting evil behavior. Besides, any magic that is illegal will remain so."

"The Circle can control what is in its own library. We cannot know what private collections may contain."

"It's not illegal merely to read about it."

"Now you advocate for private, secret books about blood magic. You have no limit. None of your kind ever do!" Meredith's normally pallid skin was strangely blotchy, Caitlyn noticed. Was it just her anger causing blood to flush?

"Some mages need to know how it works in order to fight it effectively, Knight-Commander," Alain said, trying to talk her down. "I was forced to watch my old companions use blood magic, and as awful as it was, I have benefited from the knowledge now when I fight maleficarum with the Guard."

"The Templars already had that ability."

"But more support helps."

"She won't listen, First Enchanter," Caitlyn declared suddenly. She had heard enough and her patience was at an end. "It has nothing to do with my actual proposal, anyway. We vote on the proposed rule to let mage children join the Circle rolls but learn at home from hired tutors or their own competent and trained parents."

"You will answer to the Maker one day," Meredith muttered.

"Guess what, Mal?" Caitlyn said that evening. Despite the scene that Meredith created, the vote had gone her way and she was very pleased. Across the room, seated next to his son, Anders gave her a knowing grin. "You won't be sent away from us."

He looked up sharply, staring at his mother in disbelief for a moment. Then a cry of joy escaped him. "I can stay?" he repeated.

"You can stay as long as you want to, dear, even if people guess that you are a mage or you show it yourself. I made that law today."

He rose from his chair and hurried over to give his mother a tight hug, making sure to be careful of her bump. "Mother," he said huskily.

She embraced him back, aware that he was trembling and trying not to cry. Her heart went out to him. I knew that this troubled him, she thought. I knew it for a long time. But it still hurts that it troubled him so much that he shakes and sobs in relief when the threat is lifted. "My sweet boy," she said softly, caressing his back. "Your father and I couldn't rest until you were safe from that. And now you are."

After they put him to bed that night, Anders turned to her uneasily. "I don't think we should encourage him to do magic in public yet. Someone is going to challenge what you did. I really think that the Divine will have to step in at last, and Maker only knows what she'll do."

"Someone could challenge it, I agree," Caitlyn said, "but you really think Justinia might overturn it?"

"She may want to encourage reform, at least more than her predecessors did, but I think what she wants more than that is to avoid a schism and an Exalted March," he said darkly. "And if that's her first priority, then what might she do to advance it? Let's wait, all right? Let's tell him to wait, to be utterly sure."

She considered. She still believed that he was too cynical about certain things, but with their son's freedom at stake, he had a point. It was better to be too careful than too eager. Looking at him again, she nodded in agreement.

When Caitlyn and Anders explained to Mal why he would still need to wait just a little bit longer before doing magic in public, he took it surprisingly well. Disappointment was etched in his face, but there was also resignation. Caitlyn felt a pang. Had he given up hope? It should only be a little while longer, she thought. These things do take time, but at last, I have meaningful achievements. At last, politics are working for us. It need not come to violence if this will just continue—if I can just force it to continue. A little voice in her head whispered that she did not have that kind of power, but she ignored it.

Caitlyn decided not to make a performance of announcing these changes before a crowd, but instead, to put them into effect quietly. What mattered was that they were enforced, not that she herself became the focus of attention. And if doing this quietly made it less likely for unrest to develop, so much the better, she thought.

Despite this, she knew that Meredith would remain in contact with her allies abroad. Sure enough, word came not quite two weeks later that the Grand Clerics of the self-styled "Alliance of the Faithful," the three Marcher cities who were allied against her, had indeed sent a formal objection to Divine Justinia challenging Kirkwall's new rule allowing mage children to be taught at home and the part of the rule about spouses that allowed them to live together outside Circle quarters.

Anders warned that this was likely, Caitlyn thought. It was expected. It does not herald an escalation of conflict. She wasn't surprised, she told herself.

She could still believe that right up until the new broadsheet began to appear in Kirkwall and the first fight broke out.

Grand Cleric in Exile Elthina Calls on Kirkwall to Repent!

"If they will not listen to Our Lady, why would they listen to me?" says the exiled and falsely accused cleric, but she adds that hope for repentance remains until the day the Maker enacts His just punishment for those who defy Him. That day draws near for the troubled city. Kirkwall, return to the Prophet's commands and restore a rightful ruler before it is too late.

The two people whom Aveline dragged into jail for fighting were carrying this broadsheet. Caitlyn glowered angrily as she accepted it from the Guard-Captain to read. Anders hovered next to her, temporarily away from the Keep clinic when he heard what had happened.

"Where did this come from?" she said in frigid tones, handing it back. "Did Elthina herself compose it? If she did, Sebastian approves of it too—and that is an explicit call to overthrow me and a threat if it doesn't happen. If she produced this, this is cause for war."

Aveline scowled; she might have had some disagreements with the breadth of her friend's political agenda, but she almost always took the side of the rule of law, and this was an open call for insurrection. "We don't know if she herself wrote it," she said. "It doesn't sound as refined as the one we know she wrote last year."

"What do we know? Can it be traced to the north?"

"We are looking into that. It implies that someone made it who personally heard Elthina, but the composer might have attributed words to her from rumor. It was block printed, so we can only find the press if it is someone here."

"If it is someone here, hang them for inciting treason." Her voice was angry and corrosive. "The last time people brawled in the streets over politics and agitators called for my removal, it resulted in a bomb exploding in a place of healing. I will not risk that again."

As she stormed away, fury and fear again overtaking her, Anders hurried to keep up. She heard his rapid footsteps and slowed down to let him catch her.

"Caitlyn," he said, taking her hand.

"Please don't tell me that you have an objection to what I just said."

Hurt filled his face at this. "I don't, at all," he said with emphasis. "I just wanted to comfort you. Maker, you're shaking with anger, love. Let me hold you." He waited only a moment for her to relax slightly before enveloping her in his arms. He leaned the side of his face gently against hers.

She let him caress her as he murmured soothing words. "Thank you," she said softly, embracing him in return. Some of her tension seemed to go away. "I just... wanted my way to work. This upsets me. I don't want the city to be torn apart again."

"Your way could still work," he said. It seemed strange to him to be comforting her with reassurances of something about which he had had doubts for so long, but right now, she needed to hear it. And her hopes might yet be rewarded, he thought.

She took a deep breath and drew away slightly from him. "Thank you, love. I am all right now."

He smiled encouragingly, but unease stirred within him.

For the next week following the first appearance of the broadsheet, Aveline reported grimly that more fights had broken out between supporters of Caitlyn and supporters of Meredith—or between supporters of Meredith and bystanders whom they believed to be "mage sympathizers." The broadsheet turned up again, but the guards were unable to trace it to a printer in Kirkwall.

"I'm concerned about that," Aveline said frankly at a now-daily Small Council meeting to discuss the wave of street fighting and the broadsheet. "I'm concerned that it means these people are coming from the north..."

"Mettin's old mob, returning?" Caitlyn said darkly. "Question them."

"They insist that they live here, and they always have someone to post bail and take them home."

Caitlyn sighed. "Well, that mob did consist of Kirkwallers. They must have had relatives and friends."

"Perhaps they are visiting for Satinalia," offered Comte de Launcet naïvely.

Caitlyn tried to avoid laughing at him to his face. Several members of the Council were unable to conceal their own darkly amused smiles. "Insurrectionist propaganda is hardly a suitable Satinalia gift. Aveline, increase the bail if they are supporting Meredith or opposing me. I don't like setting these people free."

Aveline raised her eyebrows disapprovingly at that, but she knew an order when she heard one. Across the table, her two noble allies also shifted uneasily. However, Varric seemed to agree, if resignedly, that harsh measures might be necessary, and Petrice, Anders, and Selby visibly approved of her order.

Caitlyn rubbed her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. What have I become? she thought. When no one had any further business, she dismissed the meeting, hoping for time with her family and friends.

"I am going to speak again," Mistress Selby said in a low voice to them when the others had left.

"Are you sure you should?" Caitlyn said, frowning. "The rebel Grand Clerics—and yes, I will call them that now—challenged two of the new rules. Shouldn't we wait to see what comes of that before doing something else?"

"I was not going to speak of a different abuse—yet," she replied. "I was going to tell the stories of some of the mage children whom my people have smuggled out, to keep people thinking of the subject even in this lull."

"Is this safe for you personally?" Caitlyn said. "I would not want you to be accused..."

"Who controls the justice system of Kirkwall now?" she said with a smile.

Anders laughed. "She has a good point."

"I care nothing about accusations, especially those that are true. Meredith already knows that the Mage Underground exists; what does it matter if she guesses who is the leader? It doesn't make it easier for her to halt our work."

Caitlyn managed a wry laugh at last; she had never thought of it that way. "As you like, then."

Anders lurked in the background of the former Qunari building, hooded, cloaked, and hidden behind pillars. He periodically and discreetly renewed the glyph shield that glimmered in front of Selby. The guards tried to keep unfriendly people out, since fights were occurring again, but there was always a chance someone might fool them. He tried not to listen too closely to what she said. Since Mal's freedom was still unfortunately not secured, it frightened and angered him—and it angered Justice. The last thing he needed was for the spirit to appear in public.

At last Mistress Selby finished her final story, an account of a girl who escaped the Gallows to see her dying grandmother one last time. Some people in the crowd were sobbing and wiping tears; others were smiling and applauding. A few bore righteous outrage at the fact that the girl had been kept from her family for most of the grandmother's illness. However, the people seemed friendly to the message, whatever their reactions.

Anders breathed a sigh of relief as the crowd began to disperse. The guards on the sidelines visibly relaxed. Varric hefted his contraption over his shoulder, relieved as well.

Anders saw the strange, discrete flashes of red light, like glowing red sand flying through the air, a fraction of a second before they struck his glimmering glyph. It crackled like a bolt of lightning before dissipating in a green mist of raw magic.

He did not even think of his own safety. Jumping out from his place of hiding, he readied a spell to recast the protective barrier in front of the Mage Underground leader—

In the same moment, a cold wooden click, faint but still audible, shot through the air. A crossbow bolt struck Mistress Selby's chest on the upper left, tearing through. She blinked once, as if in disbelief, before tumbling forward, blood pouring from her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

Even as the stragglers began to scream and flee, and Varric ran for the steps to help, Anders cast another glyph—hoping that whatever had taken the first one down would not do it again. He cast a healing spell, bathing the landing in blue light, but he had seen where that bolt had struck and did not have much hope. He felt for a pulse. Nothing.

He felt sick and angry, almost giving way to the spirit, when someone tapped his arm and pulled him back gently. "It's over," said Varric in a grim voice. "You can't help her, and you don't need to be out in the open like this."

Anders gazed out at the surrounding buildings, their windows suddenly menacing. The assassin had been hiding in there. And what had taken down his shield? Shuddering, outrage and terror overtaking him, he nodded dumbly and ducked away from the edge.

Notes: The rest of this story is original plot, off the canon map. "Here there be dragons." And dark protagonists.