Chapter FIFTY-FIVE

"Aria! Aria wait!" a familiar voice called on a hoarse whisper from the shadows outside Fenris's mansion. Aria shifted the straps on the papoose-style pack that held Tristan fast between her shoulder blades. The 6-month-old baby cooed at the adjustment and tugged on a loose strand of Aria's hair.

Anders materialized next to them and the babe reached out for him, gurgling happily. Anders squeezed his outstretched hand with gentle brevity and turned to Tristan's mother.

"You're going to the Chantry?" he asked as he fell in stride next to the rogue.

"How'd you know?" Aria suspiciously countered, wincing as Tristan tugged her hair again.

"Bethany's due a shipment of flowers and herbs," Anders hedged. "I was wondering if I might ask a favour."

Aria stopped walking and looked sharply at him. "Why...do I feel like I'm going to regret this?"

"Oh, it's nothing much—there's just...a... Letter. Hidden in the Chantry behind the statue of the Maker. It's part of the mage underground. I just need you to keep the Grand Cleric busy while I retrieve it."

Aria looked him squarely in the eyes. "You're lying. You've never been a good liar. Not to me."

Anders sighed. "I can't tell you. You'd try to stop me."

"Well if I'd try to stop you if I knew, there's no way I'm helping you now," Aria testily stated, stalking towards the Keep instead of the Chantry.

Anders caught her arm and brought her to a jarring halt. Tristan giggled at the sudden movement. "Aria please! It does have to do with helping the mages. And I'll take full responsibility if anything goes awry."

Aria studied him for a good long moment, warring with herself. She had been a beacon of hope in the darkness that grew around the mage population in Kirkwall. But her instincts screamed at her that this was not going to have a happy ending for anyone.

"How would it help the mages?" she slowly said at length.

"It would free them from the yoke of the Knight-Commander."

"How?"

"Nevermind how! Dammit! I'm running out of time, Aria! Do you want to help your sister be free or not?" Anders hissed, quietly enough that onlookers wouldn't hear.

"It's your head?" Aria stated, rather than questioned, one brow arching for effect.

"Mine alone," Anders replied.

Tristan tugged her hair again and squealed. Aria disentangled the baby's fingers and sighed resignedly. "Come on then."

Distracting the Grand Cleric while Anders looked for his letter was easy enough. The elderly woman was quite taken with Tristan and needled Aria about not having him christened yet. The baby had the same silvery-white hair of both of his parents, though his eyes were a deep crystalline green, just a shade or two darker than his father's. His ears came to slight points, as almost all progeny of elves did. Whenever Aria looked at her son, she saw so much of his father, and it made her heart sing. Fenris was extremely proud of the babe, and was quite devoted. This too made Aria's heart nearly burst with pride.

Anders rejoined her once his letter was found and they went to the garden to procure Bethany's materials. To say Aria was cold to him would have been far too kind a statement.

"Why can't you understand that what I do, I do for the good of all?" Anders finally snapped at her when she refused to acknowledge him a fifth or sixth time.

Aria rounded on him, careful to keep her movements fluid so as not to upset Tristan. Not that it would have mattered—the boy was a daredevil. He'd already started crawling and was quite fast at it. Half a year old and he was enough to wear both Aria and Fenris out. She secretly dreaded his learning to walk.

"You didn't tell me the truth. I don't like walking into a scheme blind."

"Tell her the truth about what?" the raspy baritone of her beloved said from under one of the many shade trees near them. Fenris appeared from the midday shadow and kissed his wife lightly on the forehead, then the top of his son's head.

"Nothing that concerns you," Anders venomously replied before he stalked out of the gardens, the burlap sack of Bethany's flowers and such slung over his shoulder.

Aria and Fenris watched him go, while Tristan gave a couple coughs as the mage disappeared. The baby was unnervingly fond of the mage. Fenris took him from his mother's back and gently tossed him in the air a couple times before he cradled the baby to his chest. Tristan squealed with glee and reached for the wolf pendant around his father's neck.

"What was that all about?" Fenris asked, watching the baby swat the pendant back and forth.

Aria sighed again and sat down on one of the nearby low benches. She rubbed at her neck. "He insisted on coming with me to the Chantry today so that he could do something with the mage underground, or so he said." She felt the vibration in the air, rather than heard Fenris's low growl.

"And your part in it was?"

"Keeping the Grand Cleric occupied. Don't worry, it's his damn head. Not mine," Aria quipped.

"Nothing ever just falls on Anders," Fenris darkly stated, bouncing the cooing Tristan up and down in his embrace.

"It's been too peaceful for too long. Anders is on edge. Reports are saying the conditions in the Gallows are getting worse by the day, and no one seems any the wiser to it. I feel like... We're living on a bowstring that's been stretched too tautly. And it's about to snap," Aria said, kicking a stone and watching it skitter down the cobbled path.

"We haven't been to Gamlen's in a while," Fenris attempted to lighten her mood. "He's always privy to some juicy Lowtown gossip."

Aria couldn't help but laugh at this. "And on the way back home, we can pester Varric. He does love Tristan."

"He spoils him," Fenris growled, brushing his nose against his son's. Tristan cooed and grabbed both of his father's ears, then bounced up and down in his arms. A little ways away, some noblewomen giggled and murmured to each other at the scene, their gazes adoring.

Fenris blushed and placed his son back in the sling on his mother's back when Aria refused to let him carry their child. She'd done it for nine months in her belly, having him between her shoulders was a relief. Besides, it helped keep her upper body and core strength up. They nodded at the noblewomen as they passed.

Fenris had become nervous around the humans of higher social stature than he was, given his race. His reputation and that of his wife had catapulted both of them to near royalty status. When they could manage to find either or both of them, people followed and watched, looking for some tidbit to share at their afternoon teas. They could say they were close to the Champion and her husband, and make their rather worthless existence justifiable in that right. Once, he and Aria could breeze through the entire city completely unnoticed. Those days were long gone.

He ruminated then over the words Alistair, or rather, King Alistair, had said when they'd come to Kirkwall six months ago. War was coming. Orlais was on the verge of trying to take back Ferelden and the Knight-Commander Meredith grew battier by the day with her quests for blood mages in every corner. But that knowledge was a well-kept secret, and anyone with the slightest bit of smarts certainly didn't talk about it except in the most trustworthy of private company. Even Aveline was afraid of the woman. Raids were a common thing among families who had shown a proclivity for magic in the lines. The Hawke estate had as yet remained untouched, though that was most likely out of the fear of what Aria and he could do in a fight. But with Tristan growing, Aria feared that the likelihood of him being a mage was dangerously high. Both Fenris's and her family were known for their magical blood.

"You're brooding again. I've already had a broody baby in your honour. What's wrong?" Aria asked as they bounded lightly down the steps into Lowtown, trying to deflect her own worry.

"You listen to Varric too much. I'm not brooding," Fenris rasped, his arm slipping around his wife's waist once they cleared the steps.

"Yes you are," Aria giggled.

"We can't talk about it here," he gently warned, averting his gaze as they passed the shopkeepers.

"Alright," she conceded, wincing as Tristan found her hair again. It was one of his favourite playthings.

They made it to Gamlen's cottage and he was using the privy when they entered. Aria let Fenris take Tristan and she looked about the common room. The place was nothing like she remembered; that was beyond being a good thing.

The entryway was done in a light blue, sheetrock walls replacing the drafty wood and mortar. The floor was actually blonde hardwood, where it had been hardpacked dirt before. The entire structure had been enlarged; it had only boasted four tiny rooms before and now had seven. The kitchen was updated with a new stove, which worked far better than the old janky cast iron monstrosity he'd had before. He had a sun room off the common room, which also doubled as his dining area, where he could actually entertain guests now, and he had two spare bedrooms, though small but well-furnished.

She noted a letter open on one of the new tables, a pretty, light oak number, and she started reading it. Gamlen boomed at her as he exited the new restroom he'd had built onto his house.

"What are you doing?" he thundered as he entered the common room.

"That note mentioned the gem of Keroshek. What's that?" Aria queried, undeterred by the anger in his tone.

"Leave that alone. There are things in my life that don't actually involve you, you know. Stay out of my business, girl!" he yelled, snatching the note from Aria's hands. Tristan coughed and started to cry. Gamlen walked over to the crying babe and began cooing. "It's okay. It's okay. Unky Gam didn't mean to upset you."

. "So, what is it?" Aria sighed. The note had called for Gamlen to bring some gem to Darktown.

"It's nothing, nevermind," Gamlen gruffly replied and crumpled the note up. He tossed it into the rubbish bin next to the new kitchen counter.

"If you're worried about who sent the note, I can go in your place," Aria offered. She winced at the low rumble she felt rather than heard. Fenris, of course, disapproved. Aria turned to him, taking Tristan from him absent-mindedly when the baby reached for her. "Oh come on. A couple lowly bandits in Darktown are hardly anything to worry about. Gamlen can watch his favourite nephew and we can deal with the scum."

"Did I ask for that?" Gamlen morosely asked. The anguish in his tone tugged at Aria's heart. "I don't know who sent it, and I don't want to. I lost everything chasing that gem... Our fortune, our home, even Mara."

"Who's Mara?" Aria softly asked, and she turned to face Gamlen again.

"She's... None of your concern, that's who she is!" Gamlen roared in response. "Why don't you head back to your fancy house in Hightown and stay out of my damned business!"

Aria sighed and Tristan whined. Fenris was stonefaced. "Fine, Uncle. If that's how you want to be." The family headed for the door.

"Don't go there, fool girl! I'm warning you!"

Aria turned back and winked at her uncle before closing the door after them.