A/N: The secret messenger will be revealed soon. Thank you for reading!

...-...

There was something odd about traveling with an ancient golem that couldn't be controlled. The old stories always said that they were subservient stone creatures, unable to so much as lift a finger without permission.

Shale was nothing like the stories. They were more like something Varric would put in one of his series in a drunken bout of brilliance, cackling madly all the while, only to wake up and realize that what he'd thought was so brilliant was too far from believable to work.

And yet…there they were.

Shale could be eerily quiet, and it was somewhat unnerving that no matter what time he woke up, the creature was already awake, glowing eyes peering at him like he had some sort of beacon on his back.

There was a lot more here than met the eye, and yet Shale was not particularly willing to disclose anything to them.

"It is a nosey little fleshling, isn't it? Perhaps it should be more concerned with all the things that could squish it flat if it stays so distracted. I will not be the one to scrape it off the floor when its little body is a puddle." Shale had stopped a second to eye Varric before adding, "I may help it get there, though."

"No squishing Varric, if you don't mind," Hawke had replied, smiling and patting Varric's head. "Don't know what I'd do without him. He's the best friend I've got."

That had quieted Shale, who had looked over their little traveling group before simply turning and continuing along their path.

Varric wasn't sure why, but whenever the conversation turned to friends or friendship, the giant stone creature's sass would abandon them and they would simply resume their march.

While Varric was dying to know why, he also valued his form being anything other than 'fleshy paste'. Who could appreciate his chest hair on that? …In that?

Ugh.

And so, instead he kept his questions to himself and tried not to worry that allying with Shale might not have been their best idea.

Their group were near the entrance to Skyhold's valley when things began to…

That his writer's mind went to 'get weird' was appalling, especially since things hadn't stopped being weird since the sky had opened up.

And yet…

Late as it was, the promise of a warm bed had given the lot of them the strength to keep going. A few more hours and they'd be back to that old castle, to the beds they'd claimed and the fires and ale and…

And even as Varric realized he probably had a stack of letters about as tall as he was waiting for him, someone came running out of the darkness toward them. They were bloody and panicked and poorly dressed for the cold.

Varric's mind immediately went to an attack on Skyhold, and his stomach plummeted, Bianca already in hand. With the advisors and Stardust away—they were still gone, he assumed—it would be chaos.

He stumbled to a stop in front of them, madness in his eyes. "You have to help! There's a wolf! It's going to kill me!"

Even as Rivaini told the man to calm down and start from the beginning, Shale simply reached out and caught him by his throat, lifting him into the air so that his feet kicked wildly as his fingers scraped against the stone encompassing their throat.

"Put him down!" Hawke cried out.

"It speaks like the ones who work with the red." Shale seemed to hesitate, however, glancing at the rest of them as though to make sure they weren't going to claim this man as one of their own people. "It is Tevinter."

There was a soft 'shnng' as weapons were drawn, though Hawke shouldered his, holding his free hand out to Shale. "Let's talk to him before you crush is windpipe, yes?"

Shale let out what could have been a growl or a groan, before tossing the man into the air and catching him by his shirt instead of his throat. The man wailed in terror and fire sprouted at his fingertips.

Shale shook him like a rag doll. "None of that if it wants me to humor its fellow fleshlings."

Rivaini moved to join Hawke and then eyed the man. "Who are you?"

"If we don't run, the wolf—"

He was mid-sentence when lightning hit him, shooting through him and crackling ineffectively against Shale's arm. The golem muttered something under their breath before dropping the man, leaving him to twitch and convulse as the lightning took its toll.

Even as Varric whipped his weapon up, peering into the night to see who had attacked, Chuckles came loping out of the shadows, staff in hand.

He gave them a simple nod, stopping in front of the man he'd electrocuted, and then nodding again when he was sure the Tevinter was dead. "Your timing is quite fortuitous. I feared he might escape."

Varric lowered Bianca slowly. "You…what happened?"

"The Venatori infiltrated our forces, and when we learned of them, they foolishly tried to summon demons to take the castle. I doubt there are many left, but you're welcome to search with me." He turned back toward Skyhold, motioning.

"We're using wolves now?" Hawke asked as he stepped around the body. When Chuckles gave him a puzzled look, he pointed at the man. "He was going on about a wolf chasing him?"

"Maybe we're looking at the wolf," Rivaini teased, sheathing her daggers on her hips.

Chuckles allowed himself a polite smile before simply shrugging. "If there are any wolves out here, I've not seen them."

Varric sighed, finally slinging Bianca over his shoulder as well. He was too tired to cart her around when there wasn't imminent danger. "Maybe it was a code? We can see if any others used it during the attack."

"If you'd like," Chuckles replied, already leading the way back. "However, I feel you will find it nothing more than the ramblings of a half dead madman."

Shale let out a low hum at that, which caught Chuckles' attention and for the first time he seemed to truly notice the golem. How he'd missed them before was beyond Varric, but he had to admit he sometimes got tunnel vision during fights himself.

He looked up at Shale, appraising them carefully, and then looked at Varric. "Family heirloom."

As Varric shook his head quickly, Shale let out a low grumble. "It is as stupid as it is rude."

It was hard to see in the darkness, but Varric was pretty sure Solas looked surprised.

"It should be careful where it flings its magic," Shale muttered, stomping forward through the snow and making far more noise than necessary.

Maker, but that giant rock could move so quietly when they wanted to. Varric wouldn't have thought a ten-foot-tall walking wall could be so stealthy.

Well, not when it was angry, but still.

"My apologies," Chuckles offered, matching pace with Shale. "In the dark, I wasn't sure what he'd stumbled into."

Shale growled, but seemed to accept the apology. Varric based this, of course, on the fact that the golem didn't threaten to turn anyone into paste or broken bits.

To think that was the current standard for pleasantries in the group…

Barkington usually trotted along Hawke's side, but instead took up a place ahead of Hawke, seemingly intent to stay between him and Chuckles.

Chuckles, in turn, glanced back at the mabari but once, frown deep in place.

That was…weird. Barkington was one of the friendliest critters when it came to allies, and had a nose for anyone who didn't belong. They'd been saved numerous times in Kirkwall by that dog seeing through liars before they could.

It was a little embarrassing, honestly, to get saved by a slobbering, noisy canine all the time, but Hawke loved it. Whenever Barkington came to the rescue, he'd cook the mabari a steak and make a formal dinner out of it. Daisy loved those dinners, as did most of them.

Blondie had been the only one who hadn't seemed particularly thrilled to honor the mabari, though Varric sometimes wondered if that was because…

Varric dismissed that train of thoughts.

There was always a chance that Barkington was just being cautious because he hadn't really met Chuckles yet. That sort of thing happened from time to time, too. The beast had been wary of Broody for a while, before becoming best friends. Hawke used to lament how his dog loved Broody more.

Memories of the past warmed Varric as they searched the valley for almost an hour, despite the protests from muscles that begged them to just go to the shelter of the castle.

Finally, a blonde boy that Varric was sure he'd seen somewhere before slipped up to Chuckles, whispering softly.

"We've managed to take care of all of them," Chuckles announced, abruptly turning toward the castle and those heavenly lights that flickered at the end of the bridge, on either side of the gate.

However, as they drew close to the bridge, a voice called out for them to stop, and Varric very much wanted to turn around and shoot whoever it was for delaying them longer.

His mood lightened a bit when he saw that it was Alistair who had called to them, with The Iron Lady walking behind him, opting not to jog to the rest of them. That she could be so poised out here in the dead of night, walking as though she was stepping through a court, was impressive.

Alistair came to a stop just shy of the group, a greeting to Garrett dying on his lips as he noticed their golem. Before Varric could offer an explanation, Alistair's lopsided grin was in place, attention focused on the newcomer. "Shale! It's been too long."

"Has it?" the golem asked, though there was…it wasn't a softness…or even a fondness, but there was something to their voice that made it obvious that they knew Alistair.

Alistair looked the creature over, a hand resting lightly on one of Shale's arms and then his face fell. "I heard about what happened to Wynne. I'm…"

Before Alistair could finish, Shale jerked their arm away and turned, as though they were going to head into the castle, though instead they just stood there.

Garrett glanced from one to the other. "What happened—"

"She's dead," Shale snapped, and their use of a pronoun other than 'it' was not lost on Varric. "As is the fate of all fleshbags."

Suddenly a lot of the golem's actions made sense, and Varric kicked himself for not figuring it out sooner.

"You brought us…a golem?" The Iron Lady's voice interrupted the silence before it could take a proper hold.

Shale ignored her, instead leveling a gaze at Alistair. "It keeps brilliant company as usual, doesn't it?"

As Alistair laughed and made some comment about how Shale was still as pleasant as ever, Chuckles slipped past them and stepped over to The Iron Lady. "You didn't stay?"

"Of course not, darling," The Iron Lady replied, an icy smile in place. "I felt it unbecoming to leave you and that boy to fight against such odds by yourselves."

Chuckles hesitated at that, expression shifting to neutral. "I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about."

Stepping closer to the apostate, The Iron Lady whispered something too low for Varric to hear, though he caught the gist of it when Chuckle's gave her a sharp glare before mellowing out and simply shrugging.

The day had been far too long—a budding routine that Varric very much wanted to get past—and finally, he hit Hawke on the arm and started shuffling toward the castle. Let everyone else catch up.

They needed their sleep.