The Imperium slept. In the lofty palaces
Mages dreamed of the Maker's Palace, golden and shining,
And though they knew not why, the dream turned their blood to ice.
Soldiers stood their watches, and servants huried on errands,
Unaware of what the dawn would bring.

Silence 2:1

'Drink this,' Leliana said, softly; ashamed by her own weakness, and more than willing to brave any pain to deny it, Cassandra attempted to sit up, and say she needed no coddling; she fell back to her sheets, and her voice came out as a pitiful squeak, not even forming words.

'Easy, Cassandra,' the Nightingale said, kindly. 'You've acid burns on your skin and inside your chest; the Tevinter healers have worked on your face, and Morrigan has prepared a poultice for your insides. It will take some time before you fully recover. Stay still, my friend, and let us help you. No rush on our behalf will aid, now, and Veldrin…'

Is already out our reach, far out of our reach, Cassandra thought. I should have believed you…

She dutifully drank of the glass Leliana held before her lips, tasting no more than milk and honey…perhaps, mint? she wondered, finding her throat was soothed, and that she could breathe easier.

'Veldrin…' she whispered. Leliana shook her head.

'Gone from Minrathous while the city and Magisterium were still in full flux.' She said. 'She boarded for Qarinus before Tilani herself was expulsed, I am sure. What you briefly saw in that cell was an elaborate projection – this, at least, my Imperial counterparts grudgingly admitted.'

Weakened and hurt in more than body, Cassandra closed her eyes, expecting to be told that she had been the fool. Leliana did nothing of the sort.

'Have another sip,' the red haired woman enticed. 'It is not so bad, no? Who even knew Morrigan could brew something good and tasty?'

'Excuse me, I am in the chamber,' Morrigan sourly put in. ''Twas not so long ago that I made this for all of you when blundering Arainai casually flung his concoctions at us all in the battle's midst; my predictions on his evolution as poison maker were naught but correct as well – two years short of two decades, and he has evolved not one smidgeon.'

'You…' Cassandra tried, her glance shifting between the two women, 'knew…'

'The elf who attacked you today?' Leliana asked, smiling. 'Please, another sip, Cassandra…Yes, we both did; he travelled with the Hero of Ferelden. How he comes to work for Fen'Harel is a mystery, but, indeed, we knew him. And I disagree with you, Morrigan; if he had intended to kill, he would have – you, and the escort Radonis provided you with were left unconscious, scarred, but alive.'

'Alas, poor Zevran,' Morrigan chuckled. 'No sooner he finds stable employment than he finds himself betrayed by his employer…Can you be sure, Leliana, that you are not outplayed again? Perhaps sweet-tongued Arainai is not working for Solas, but for Radonis…'

'Maker preserve us,' Cassandra whispered, slowly finding her voice.

'I can be sure, yes,' Leliana responded, straightening away from Cassandra's side and turning to face Morrigan. 'The Magisterium's intelligence played this little trick on us all in the hopes of capturing at least one of Fen'Harel's agents; it might even have functioned, for the veil wards around Veldrin's supposed cell were so heavy even I felt them. What they had not counted on was an intruder who has no magic whatsoever. Where a mage, or even one of Fen'Harel's guardians might have gotten ensnared, Zevran walked in and out the old fashioned way. The Magisterium's agents were quite…deflated,' she ended, in a merry, professionally prideful chuckle.

'And I am crushed,' the Divine whispered. 'I had…'

She took a further swallow from Morrigan's brew, and closed her eyes; Leliana gently caressed her shoulder.

'Bad news is better than no news, Cassandra,' Leliana said, softly. 'We now know three things with great certainty, and that is progress.'

The Divine shook her head, and stared at her hands. 'I am unsure how this can be progress,' she said, from the tips of her lips.

Leliana shrugged. 'The news is both good and bad – mostly bad, but certainties at least abound. For one, we know that Veldrin is indeed working with Radonis; for second, her distraction tactic was so good that Fen'Harel feared for her fate.'

'How endearing,' Morrigan said, with a little smile. 'Wonder how much to his liking this little game has been. I do not know the man well, but it did strike me he has quite a temper; I am getting the odd sensation that the reunion of these star crossed almost lovers will not be precisely…romantic.'

The Nightingale sat by Cassandra's side, on the bed. 'It's of no import to me,' she earnestly said. 'What is of import is that we now have a way of tracking Veldrin, and,' she added, biting her lower lip and apologetically glancing at the Divine, though her eyes held a certain, undisguisable triumphant glow, 'we can rest assured that she was, indeed, the source of our leak.'

'Leliana,' the Divine sighed, 'please…'

The spymistress shook her head, and placed a parchment in Cassandra's hands – the Divine read, her eyes growing wide in surprise, then cast a glance that spoke of both surprise and sorrow at Morrigan.

For once caught unprepared, the witch allowed her indifferent mask to slip. 'What is it?' she whispered. 'What has transpired?'

Leliana smirked – in true triumph, this time, and reached for the parchment in the Divine's hands. 'I might as well tell you now, Morrigan…I had been waiting for the perfect moment, and I feel this is it.'

She handed the papers to the witch, and watched her growing pale as she read; dated but short of a fortnight before, the parchment bore the gryphon seal of Weisshaupt fortress. In dry terms, the Wardens informed that they had been attacked by a group of odd-looking elves; the make of their armour and weapons was such as none had seen before. Their skin was golden, as were their eyes, and they all bore vallaslin of a pattern that even the Dalish amid the Wardens could not truly place…

'Mythal's sentinels,' Morrigan breathed.

'Indeed,' Leliana replied, smiling. 'Care to guess what, or rather…who they were searching for, in Weisshaupt fortress, Morrigan?'

'And you kept this from me…' the witch said, in a shaky voice, 'for a fortnight? Have you no…'

'Heart?' the Nightingale shot. 'Not when the world is at stake. Besides,' she purred, 'it is not me that you should ask about softer sentiments; it is your…friend…no, that is not the word; co-conspirator, yes? that you should wonder about, witch. She seemed so very sympathetic to your son, she almost fooled me.'

'Is Kieran…'

'Of course he is,' Leliana said, gracefully tilting her head to the side. 'Many wardens, however, are not, though I assume that is not of much concern to you; let us just say,' she added, 'that Abelas and his lot found your child as much as we found Veldrin.'

'I fear I do not follow,' Morrigan hissed, crumpling the parchment.

'Kieran was never in Weisshaupt,' Leliana responded, grinning wide. 'I planted that knowledge, and waited to see who would pick its blossoms. It could not have been you; Tevinter would see the boy kidnapped and in their possession, yet the presence of Sentinels rules them out – they could not pactise with them. Can you then, think of anyone who knew where the boy was held, and is so keen on her own designs that she would think nothing of endangering him?' she sweetly ended.

Morrigan breathed in and out, hotly; Cassandra felt as if a volcano was spewing lava under her brow.

'What is her plan, witch? You are party to it, I know it in the marrow of my bones, but she is playing you as she is playing us all.' Leliana asked, gently. 'Do not be blind to the truth; choose wisely between those who would protect Kieran, and those who would so place him in harm's way.'

Morrigan straightened the parchment in her hand and read it though once more, her demeanour growing oddly calmer at each breath. Tired and aggrieved, Cassandra could read nothing upon her face, but prayed to the Maker that Leliana could – the Maker did not answer, for, after a further long moment of consideration, Morrigan tore a thin strip from the parchment. Then, another, and yet another, until the dreaded scroll was no more than a bouquet of meaningless, thin shreds.

'That pretty face and sweet voice of yours must have served you so well on many an occasion, Sister Nightingale,' Morrigan said. 'How many times, I wonder, did you assign the beatings to another, then smoothed your path to answers with your great charms…You're very right, I know what Lavellan plans,' she said, taking a graceful step towards Leliana, and opening her fist to let the strips of parchment flutter to her feet. 'Your advice is kind, and wise too, so I shall follow it to the letter – between those who would protect my son, and those who would endanger him, I shall pick the former. And that, dear Leliana, is not you.'

'You misread your position,' Leliana snarled.

'I do not believe so,' the witch courteously replied, 'for, you see, in sharing their plan Pavus and Lavellan have given me a boon I had not dared hope for, and that would be the unwavering knowledge that though you and your Grey Warden cronies may hold my son, you hold nothing over me. Ah,' she chuckled, taking Leliana's scowl in with delight, 'how quickly the charm withers – will you pass to threats now, or should I await one of your hooded agents? It would be a pointless endeavour; the cloud you cast upon my brow is gone.'

'I cannot see from whence your confidence stems…'

'Oh,' Morrigan giggled, 'that one you can blame on the deviant, and not the elf, as he, too fast and honest a speaker, reminded me of something that I had thoroughly forgotten – you cannot afford to harm Kieran. Without him, your design is meaningless, and if you harm a single hair on his head, you'll find that Solas has far more formidable an ally in his corner than poor, perpetually suspected Lavellan ever was or ever will be. Drink your brew, your worship,' she ended, heading for the door, 'before you truly remain voiceless.'

She closed the door behind her in perfect silence and perfect silence reigned for a moment longer.

Leliana sheltered her forehead in her palm. 'Alright,' she said, her voice startlingly neutral. 'That avenue is now officially shut.'

'You frighten me, my friend,' Cassandra whispered, shaking her head.

The Nightingale looked to her Divine, and smiled sadly. 'The left hand does what the right hand cannot be seen doing. I thought you knew that.'

'But you've deceived me too,' the Divine whispered. 'And cruelly so…'

'I apologise deeply, Cassandra,' Leliana said, in a sad, earnest voice that only her old friend had a hope of hearing nowadays. 'I allowed your hope to be contagious for a day, though the information from the Wardens broke my heart. I'd hoped that you would see her and speak to her, and she would tell you what she intends, something that would clarify all this, and somehow prove you right…'

She closed her eyes and sighed; Cassandra took her hand in hers, for she sensed Leliana was fighting back tears. 'Yet, not all is lost,' the Nightingale whispered, drawing back from her sadness. 'We'll not easily find what Veldrin intends, I see that now. We may still learn where she plans to do it, perhaps prevent it…'

'But how, Leliana?' Cassandra asked. 'Radonis is obviously on her side; Dorian did not let slip one iota; we cannot hope to watch Radonis himself, and Dorian is out of our reach as well.'

'Indeed,' the spymistress nodded, finding the strength to smile. 'But Radonis has enemies, and Dorian does too; they will be watching Dorian and Radonis, and we, in turn, will be watching them.'

Radonis knitted his fingers on the table before him, and measured Cassius with false benevolence.

'I gather you have failed and succeeded at the same time?' the Archon lightly asked; normally, the tone of voice rendered his former apprentice nervous. It was not the case now, and Radonis felt unsettled – even more so because Cassius had not sneezed once since entering his office.

The Magister smiled; this too was unusual and unpleasant. 'I have, your grace,' he responded. 'I would have been greatly pleased if the attack on the false Divine had been rather more…final.'

'So that Ferelden could accuse us of assassinating her? Your logic leaves me confused.'

'So that Ferelden and Orlais either understand the elven menace fully, or they withdraw from these peace treaties that you have signed without Magisterial approval.' Cassius said dryly.

'I was not aware I required Magisterial approval, Cassius,' Radonis said, smiling. 'Have the laws changed since yester eve, when I retired?'

The Magister sat without being invited, and in a visibly relaxed posture. 'No your grace, of course not – such things would not escape your keen eye, fixed on Veldrin Pavus as it might be. Other things may have, however,' he added, extracting an envelope with a broken seal from underneath the many other parchments on the Archon's desk, and pushing it towards him.

Radonis stopped him in mid gesture.

'I congratulate you on the information obtained and on your creativity, Cassius,' the Archon said. 'You have indeed obtained the intelligence I requested. Nowhere in our past conversation was my obligation of acting upon it specified. I thank you for your efforts nonetheless, and with that…'

'Your grace,' Cassius politely spoke, showing no sign of noticing that he had, in not as many words, been invited to depart. 'Context changes the relevance of all things.'

'A wise observation,' the Archon replied. 'I would, therefore, hope that the fact you have obtained undeniable proof that House Pavus fully intends to destroy our enemy would set your heart at ease. Or was there more I should have read in your report? Something I might have missed in the turmoil of the Imperium collapsing around us?'

Cassius chuckled. 'Perhaps,' he nodded. 'The dedication of House Pavus in defeating our enemy is indeed commendable. The context your grace might have missed is the fact that they are so intent on his utter destruction because they fear what actions we might perform with or upon him, if he was alive and in our possession, and not a mere elven corpse to tear asunder and hang on the gates of Minrathous.'

Radonis smiled. 'And what actions might those be? Those you have performed on Altus Hadrian? I fear that level of creativity would be insufficient on a man with a visceral hatred of Tevinter and nothing for you to hold over him.'

'Lady Pavus' well-being seems to interest him,' the Magister replied.

'I doubt she interests him that much.' Radonis said, still smiling.

'We cannot know that unless we ask, your grace…'

'You are a despicable man with many distasteful qualities, Cassius; I've never doubted that about you, and have always appreciated you for it.' the Archon agreeably said. He drew a deep breath before following. 'I am unsure what kind of information you think this elven mage holds that is worthy of your talents.'

'It is set out in my report,' the Magister said, no longer feigning politeness. 'I suggest that in this deceitfully peaceful hiatus, your grace should once more read it. Perhaps attentively, this time.'

Radonis sighed. 'There are,' he said, 'five ways in which I could kill you, this very instant, Magister Cassius. I am assured you are aware of at least three of them, but the other two might give you a final, if unpleasant and very brief surprise.'

Cassius chuckled, and, in longer than he cared to remember, Radonis felt a chill. 'Context not only changes the meaning of information, but also the consequences of actions – you have exiled your part of the Magisterium. Only my part remains, and we invite your grace to concilliarum, this eve, so that we can all put our minds together and decide, in a democratic fashion, how important the information this elven mage holds may be to the Imperium.'

'I have no interest in reviving dragons, Cassius.' Radonis said, dryly.

'Yet, you are but one man, whose frail allies are very, very far away,' the Magister replied. 'You should have killed me when you learned of my dedication to the Venatori and the Elder One – we have proof that you have ordered the assassination of others amid our numbers, your grace. You did not order my death then, doubtlessly because we were still friends - you are a man riddled with sentimentality, so your chance is lost. Killing me now will only feed the unquenched fire of Tevinter pride, that has been doused and doused under your hand.'

Cassius stood, and bowed.

'We shall be seeing you in concilliarum, your grace.'

Radonis looked up, meeting his former apprentice's glance.

'No, you will not.'

The Magister shrugged. 'As your grace wishes,' he said. 'But, if I may remind you of an old adage, the one who is not at the table is on the menu – I suggest you put that in context as well.'

Greetings and salutations, Abstract and IVI, as always at your service, while the text lasts :) We will be slowing down a little on the posting as our Writer in Chief goes on working holidays. Only a little, though. We thank you for reading and commenting, and we do really love your comments. Don't make IVI work any harder than he has to!

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