"Andraste's great flaming ass." Ashley groaned in frustration. "Who needs six personal servants?"

Zevran chuckled incredulously as he skimmed overt the Divine' latest demands. "And all specified to be required to be of the female persuasion, too. Because that isn't conspicuous or anything."

This marriage-alliance was turning into a complete headache. Every day there was a new list of "expected accommodations", each more ridiculous than the last. The man seemed like a pompous ass. Ashley was fairly confident that she had already knew everything she needed to about him. And she hated every little bit of it. Ashley had a mind to call the whole thing off at this point. The benefits of the arrangement were becoming quickly dwarfed by the total insanity of this damned Divine.

Not to mention it might not even be needed anymore now that Danarius had conveniently disappeared. He still hadn't shown his ugly face in Kirkwall again. And the longer he took to do it, the more anxious it made her. He absolutely had to be planning something at this point. There was no way he was just taking a beach-side vacation. If he didn't return soon, Ashley would simply have to hunt him down. She would find whatever spider hole he crawled into. She would even follow him outside the wall if she had to. She had to make damn sure his threat was ended, that she took his life to make sure of it. She owed her father that much…not to mention the revenge she would be pursuing if she didn't get the others back…Maker, but she missed Fenris…

"Perhaps the house manager could make a minor clerical error?" Zevran continued, with a truly mischievous tone.

"No." Ashley sighed heavily. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment, vainly hoping that the Maker himself would miraculously grant her the patience to get through this with some semblance of her sanity still intact. "Hire the damn servants. Get them from the Rose, show him what Kirkwall has to offer."

Zevran eyed her skeptically. "Awfully generous of you."

"Maybe he'll remember that when those very expensive servants give him a religious experience." She deadpanned. It sparked a snicker from Zevran, lightening her mood just slightly. "Honestly, I'm hoping they'll be enough of a distraction for him to postpone the actual ceremony."

"Ah, I knew there was an ulterior motive. Not too eager to share the marriage bed, hmm?"

"Assuming he lives that long."

Zevran gave her a serious look. "Is that still under consideration?"

"That entirely depends."

"On?"

Ashley motioned to the tablet in his hand. "The next set of expected accommodations."

"Fair enough." Zevran shrugged as he set the tablet aside. "I'll create our response soon."

She scooted her chair back from the table, ready to make a break for it. There was a marble bathtub with massage jets in her room that was calling her name. "Just tell me there's nothing else."

"Just one more thing—"

She flopped back into her seat, shooting a glare at him. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." Zevran produced a single sheet of notebook paper from his pocket, and slid it over to her.

The paper had large, messy letters splattered about it. As if the writer had barely ever held a pen in their life. Ashely gave him a sideways look. "Don't tell me you have a list of demands now."

Zevran chuckled. "You couldn't handle my demands. This actually came from your Iron Bull."

She flipped it over a few times, turning it upside down and backwards in an attempt to decipher the chicken scratch. "How can you even tell?"

"It's a code."

"A code?"

Zevran nodded. "For the Chargers."

"The…Chargers?"

"Your new company. Well, they will be." He slid a pen over to her. "They just need your approval."

Ashley fidgeted with the pen for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. She was already mentally relaxing in the peace and quiet of her room, now she had to think logically. Given her tendency to be dwelling on depressing thoughts lately, it was causing no small amount of mental strain. "The Bull's Chargers, huh? So, I sign this…document…and I own them?"

Zevran shrugged. "In a sense. They are agreeing to operate under your banner and you are accepting responsibility for their actions."

"What are we going to use them for?"

"Whatever you want, naturally. But my suggestion? I'd use some for personal security. It would certainly give the Magisterium some pause."

Ashley huffed a small laugh. He wasn't wrong. But the idea seemed a little petty. "You think they'll be loyal? Can I trust them?"

"This Iron Bull seems eager for the new position and the agents say that the others are just happy to have a clear direction again."

She let her mind wander with that thought for a moment. The image of her fellow magisters cowering as her giant entourage passes was rather amusing, she had to admit. She was never one to make a deal on a joke though, if it was to be done then it should be done right. "Have they negotiated their wages?"

"They have."

"Was it a fair deal?"

"Generous, actually. I thought they would deserve as much if they were going to be protecting you."

She eyed him skeptically. "That's weirdly compassionate of you."

"Ha!" He leaned back enough in his chair to rest his boots on the table. "You can take care of yourself, my friend. Your bodyguards, on the other hand, will likely be attacked so many times that we might as well make it worth their time."

She huffed a small laugh in response. Her expression soured as she looked back at the paper though. Crude as it was, this was an important matter. Their lives would be in her hands, she could be sending them to their deaths. "You think it's the right thing to do?"

"For you? Or them?" Zevran made a dismissive gesture as he corrected himself. "Stupid question. Here's the thing: you already killed off their Arishock."

"For the most part." She agreed.

"So where else would they go? What else would they do? They need direction and you can provide that."

Ashley shifted in her seat. "I don't know. Murdering their leader and assimilating them into my forces sounds like the work of a tyrant."

"A tyrant doesn't care about their lackeys. You care about your workers. And your soldiers. And your spies. And your—"

"Point taken." She fidgeted with her 'lucky' ring, keeping her eyes down on the paper. "You think history will remember the difference?"

"History is going to say whatever you want it to."

Ashley gave Zevran a grave look. "Would you tell me if you thought I was doing the wrong thing?"

"You? Yes. Hawke?" He replied with a playful smirk. "Not for what you pay me."

She snickered as she picked up the pen and scrawled her name to the document. She slid the paper back to him unceremoniously. "Now, tell me we're done."

"I, um, no—not really…" Merrill's soft voice came from the doorway, barely just loud enough to hear. She looked positively unnerved. "Sorry, um, for the intrusion. There's…um…a problem…"

Ashley shared a curious look with Zevran. He seemed just as surprised as her to see Merrill. In her short time at the estate, she rarely ventured inside the manor, let alone gone so far as the study. And they certainly weren't expecting her to show up at their own private meeting.

Concealing her confusion carefully, Ashley adopted a friendly demeanor. Whatever this problem was, they certainly weren't going to get anything concrete out of her if she were already scared out of her wits. She smiled politely to Merrill as she motioned to an empty chair between her and Zevran. "It's alright. Please, have a seat."

"Oh! Right, yes. Thank you, Mistress Hawke."

Zevran kept a keen eye on Merrill as she scurried to take her seat. He casually tucked the papers in front of them into the secret drawer underneath the table, locking it in sync with the squeaks of the chair to cover the small noise it made.

Ashley spoke up to keep Merrill's attention for the moment. "There's no need to be afraid, Merrill."

Zevran chuckled, relaxing in his chair as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary. As if he wasn't sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for the first sign of treachery. "No need to worry about Ashley, that is. Hawke is a different story entirely."

Ashley shot him a disapproving look. "You'll have to forgive him. He uses humor as a defense mechanism."

"So said the kettle to the pot."

She rolled her eyes, electing to ignore that for the moment. "So, Merrill, what seems to be the problem?"

"It's…well…" Merrill closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Mythal has sent another message: she insists you come to Sundermount."

"We've spoken about this already." Ashley said as gently as she could. "She can expect us as soon as I've wrapped up my business in the city."

Merrill suddenly looked as if she were wishing she were anywhere but there. Her posture shrunk considerably as she seemingly forced herself to speak up. "She…was insisting…"

"Insisting what, Merrill?"

"That you would, um, come sooner…"

Ashley's eyes narrowed at Merrill involuntarily. She had to correct herself from threatening the messenger. If it was just another magister attempting to strongarm her, she would have dealt with them immediately. But Mythal wasn't so easily dispatched. Not to mention, their deal was not yet completed. And she simply couldn't afford to anger her until her terms were met. "How much sooner?"

"…Tonight."

"Tonight?!"

"The, um, stroke of midnight, actually."

Zevran scoffed. "Simply unreasonable. Even if our lovely magister were willing to extend the effort, there's no time to assemble an entourage for such a trip."

Merrill suddenly grew very serious. Her nervousness seemed to be a distant memory now as she stared him down. "Even Fen'Harel pauses for Mythal…" She looked up at Ashley, her expression softening only by a small measure. "You may be powerful, Mistress Hawke, but I wouldn't advise angering a goddess."

Ashley huffed a laugh, pleasantly surprised to see that this little kitten had some teeth to her. She shrugged defeatedly to Zevran. Somehow, she just knew that today was destined to go to shit. "She's not wrong, Zev. I have enough problems as it is."

Zevran rolled his eyes. "Assuming you left now, you might make this damnable deadline. But there's no time to organize the agents and I can guarantee you Aveline won't move for this little fool's errand."

Merrill shot out of her seat suddenly. Thick, thorny vines wrapped around Zevran's chair, threatening to stab him in nearly every direction. Her palms, pressed hard against the table, held an eerie, greenish glow to them. "Mythal demands respect. You will give it."

Hawke reacted violently to Merrill, pushing against Ashley's carefully molded barriers. She had to take a moment to get Hawke back into her cage. Ashley certainly wasn't anticipating Hawke to have such a reaction to Zevran being threatened. She'd have to make another mental note about that, put it on the list of triggers to watch for. Maker only knew what kind of destruction could occur if Hawke happened to catch her off-guard at the wrong moment.

Thankfully, Zevran didn't need her help. He threw a knowing wink at Ashley before he addressed Merrill with a cordial tone. "Oh, I of course meant no disrespect, my friend. I was simply expressing concern for the Magister's well-being. Perfectly understandable, yes?"

Merrill lowered herself back into her seat, the malicious intent fading in her eyes just as the vines dissipated around him. "Understandable." She agreed, seemingly reluctantly. "Mythal means no harm to Mistress Hawke. In fact, it was made clear that she is to arrive safely."

Zevran considered his thoughts for a moment. He seemed to be on the verge of defeat, trying to figure how to reconcile an impossible situation. He simply couldn't let Ashley go alone. That could be disastrous…in a number of ways. His eyes happened to land on his chair, remembering the documents he so discreetly hid away. His expression lightened again as he looked up at Ashley. "Then perhaps it is time to mobilize the Chargers?"

"The Chargers?" Ashley asked incredulously. "I literally just ratified them."

"There's no better option right now."

"What, you're not coming?"

"Not this time, if you please." Zevran shifted uncomfortably, darting his eyes toward Merrill. "All this Dalish magic and old goddesses makes me twitch. Besides, I need to have another chat with that Cadash man."

Ashley eyed him suspiciously. "Why? Is the Carta giving you problems?"

"Nothing a little…sharp negotiation can't handle." He replied with a smirk. "Don't worry about it."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. Tell Iron Bull to take his four best men and meet me here. Quick as they can. 30 minutes, tops."

Zevran nodded, quickly pulling the tablet over to him and furiously typing away at it.

Merrill made and involuntary disapproving noise, immediately regretting it or at least re-thinking it from the look on her face. "We, um, perhaps should leave even sooner…?"

"That's the best I can manage at the moment, Merrill. Please relay to Mythal that I am making this my first and most important priority."

Merrill didn't seem particularly pleased, but didn't argue further. She simply bowed respectfully and left the room quickly, likely off to commune with her goddess in the peace and quiet the estate's gardens provide.

Zevran tried to do the same but stopped abruptly when Ashley gestured for him to do so. She gave him an apologetic smile before speaking. "While I'm gone…?"

"I answer to Leandra."

"And if I don't return?"

Zevran took a measured breath, giving just enough of a pause that gave away that he really didn't want to consider that possibility. "Then, I serve Bethany in your absence. Until you return."

It wasn't the answer Ashley was expecting, but she understood. Bethany was too…fragile to lead the household. She would never make it as a Magister. She was still too good, still too innocent. The light in her heart hadn't darkened yet. Zevran wanted to hold out for Ashley to return, to keep their delicate little balance maintained.

Zevran turned to leave the room again, clearly hoping to avoid further conversation, but Ashley stopped him once more. "One last thing," She smirked at his glare. "Do feed the golem."

"Ah, yes, I forgot to mention—"

She shot him a glare of your own. "I don't even have time to deal with any other business right now."

He chuckled. "No, no, you'll like this, I promise. You know of those gangs, yes? The ones Aveline has been pursuing in the evening hours? I may have convinced her Lieutenant to…recycle the remains of the degenerates who won't surrender…"

Ashley's jaw dropped. "That's so devious! I'm actually pissed I didn't think of it."

"My genius is unappreciated in my time."

She shared an easy smile with her friend. "Thank you, Zev. For everything."

It wasn't his way to show true emotion, but the look on Zevran's face showed just a hint of appreciation. It was enough, no need to drag things out and get sappy. He couldn't let the silence draw out long without a quip. "Anything else, Mistress?"

Ashley shrugged. "Not unless you've suddenly developed the ability to teleport Fenris home to me." Her expression soured a bit, remembering her carefully buried sorrow. "Would have been nice to see him again before I go…"

"Ah, well, you never know. Perhaps he'll be waiting for you when you get back."

Her eyes snapped up to his, taking a hard look to see any signs of lies. "Have you heard something?"

"Just rumors, nothing concrete. I was hoping to go over my findings with Cadash, actually. His southern contacts have been more successful lately." Zevran waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, hoping to calm her nerves. "The rumors all point to him being alive and on this side of the wall, if that's any comfort. Beyond that, it's been difficult to place. My agents in Lothering haven't reported back yet."

She let out a deep breath. Lothering. At least that's closer. At least that's safer…part of her actually liked the idea, absently wondering if he might have the chance to cross paths with a certain Knight-Commander. Not that he would even know a reason to hate him, of course. She never talked about her time there. She never wanted to. Her life with Fenris was all that mattered…She brushed off her little daydream quickly, this was no time to dwell on wishful thinking.

"I'll give you an updated report the moment I can confirm anything more, I promise." Zevran lowered his voice, taking a step closer to her. Even in this secluded and supposedly private study, he wasn't going to take any chances of eavesdropping over such a personal question. "Have you thought about what to tell him?"

"About the alliance? It's all I've thought of…" She muttered bitterly, her guilt washing back over her like a flood.

"It won't matter."

Ashley scoffed, fidgeting with the crude pendant around her neck. "Is that your wager?"

"It's the truth, actually. You won't get rid of him that easily."

She eyed him curiously. "Why are you so sure now?"

Zevran didn't answer for a minute. He looked away as if he were planning his words carefully. It normally would make Ashley doubt every little word he was about to say. But something about the look in his eyes made her believe he was sincere. "Because he would be a fool to end what you have."

"You think so?"

"Of course." He straightened up his posture, shuffling his way out the door. "Besides, I'm off to find you a loophole right now. By the time he comes home, you won't have to bother him with the boring details."

There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the room after he left. The only thing to accompany Ashley now was her own morose thoughts. Maybe Zevran was right, she hoped. But she had to prepare herself for the possibility that he was wrong. What would a life without Fenris even look like for her? She had been living without him for weeks now, she reminded herself. But every day felt hollow. Every sunrise was a reminder that she had survived another, pointless night without him by her side. She tried to convince herself that she could move on from him, that she wouldn't die a bitter, heartbroken old hag lamenting her mistakes. But she knew the truth of it. What was the point of anything if she lost him in the process?

The unmistakable slam of the front door and the heavy steps that followed signaled the arrival of the Chargers. She checked the small digital clock at the upper corner of her tablet. They seemed to have arrived perfectly on time, much to their credit. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself from the table. She rolled her shoulders as she left the study, setting herself within the mentality that she had to portray. She was in control. She was in command. She was alert but calm. At least, that was what she was telling herself. She could only hope that if she pretended well enough, that she might just believe it too.