And the People heard the truth in Shartan's voice,

And some cursed themselves and their fate and despaired.

And others began to fashion spears and bows

From the branches of trees, and girded themselves

With bark and scraps torn from their sandals

And dug pits in the earth with their hands.

Shartan 9: 30-36

'Well,' Veldrin said, scratching her head as she looked at the maps before her, 'this is not too…bad,' she brought herself to say.

Abelas said nothing in response.

'And what you mean by not bad is it's entirely disastrous,' Maevaris Tilani said, with a little huff. 'Do you and precious here realise what you've put before me?'

'These are our borders,' Abelas said, dryly; Mae and Dorian rolled their eyes in unison.

'Ahem, well, Abelas,' Dorian muttered, 'this,' he said, pointing at the maps, 'may look to you like your borders. What it looks like to me is territory that Antiva and the Imperium have an open dispute over, with a hefty side dish of what the Qunari regard as their territorial waters.'

'These are our borders,' the Sentinel repeated.

Dorian sighed. 'I understand that,' he said, 'but you, too, need to understand that with these borders, we'll be stealing territory from two nations who are very little inclined to give the Imperium anything but the business end of a sword…'

'And the other thing,' Maevaris picked up, 'is that you do not seem to notice a small, but crucial detail: your Arlathan borders fully on Tevinter.'

'I thought this would ease matters,' Abelas said. 'Keeper Lavellan,' he followed, shifting his cold glance to Veldrin, 'you assured me that your bonded mate and your friend would fight our cause, not diminish it the minute they were entrusted with it.'

'And that is what they are doing,' Briala calmly intervened, gracefully insinuating herself by the Sentinel to lean over the maps in her turn. 'All the things that they are saying are arguments that will be brought against you before a very different and very hostile audience. We would do well to have our answers prepared in advance.'

'That all may be true, Briala,' Veldrin said, softly. 'But they cannot up and move the city…'

'I know, Magistra Pavus,' Briala answered; she bit her lower lip in thought. 'I think Orlais will find the land borders acceptable, and I shall endeavour to that goal. But,' she added, casting a questioning side glance at Veldrin, 'if Tevinter grants statehood within these borders, and if Orlais follows in that recognition, we will also de facto be declaring war on the Qun, while the ink on our most recent peace treaty has barely dried.'

'The Qun cannot fly an army to Val Royaux, and we now have full control of the eluvians,' Abelas stingingly uttered.

'Yes, yes, thank you for the reminder,' the Orlesian said, in an icily polite tone. 'As I have said, the land borders may pass scrutiny. The territory was indeed disputed, and the Empire can truthfully claim two hundred years of neutrality in the matter, and just hail an Elvhen city-state as a welcome neutral solution to the dispute. The Qun, on the other hand…'

She sighed. 'The Qun are an issue. Our trade routes in the north are beleaguered as is. The last thing we need is Qunari harassment.'

'We cannot be left land-locked,' Abelas said. 'In time, should we survive, we too shall need trade routes…'

'Which brings us all back to my original point,' Maevaris said, clenching her hands behind her back. 'You border entirely on Tevinter on one side, and I am unsure what, if anything, you will ever have to trade; I am looking at your maps, and thinking that we may find ourselves fearing Cassius' support for them more than his opposition. Because, Vel, sweetness, you and your golden friend here may look at these maps and see Arlathan. Cassius will look at these maps and see…'

'…a slave colony,' Veldrin whispered; Maevaris nodded, briskly, and though he said nothing, Abelas visibly paled.

'We cannot up and move the city,' he found the strength to say. 'We're trapped, and at your mercy, Tevinters; if there remains a slither of fairness in your kin's hearts…'

Mae's focussed glance softened, and she swallowed dry. 'It is not with us that you need to plea,' she kindly said. 'I would personally hug you, right now, if I did not think you would find it offensive in a number of ways, but, sweetness,' she continued, 'countries do not have hearts, and the Gods, whether human or not, know no fairness…'

'Is there no way that you can last, alone, for say, ten years?' Dorian asked. 'You have lasted almost that long thus far…'

Abelas looked away from him, barely suppressing a shiver of disgust – the Magister pretended not to notice.

'He makes a fair point, Abelas,' Briala said, 'and, were I you, I would learn to control myself a lot better.'

'It is hard for me to instantly grasp what you took years to master, Marquise,' the Sentinel said; it was a mere statement of fact.

'That may well be,' the Orlesian replied, 'but the way in which you are reacting to the Shem'len now cannot be the way in which you react to his grace, Radonis; if we succeed here, you will have to repeat these pleas in Orlais, and while I assure you Empress Celene will look upon you with benevolence, she cannot be seen as weak enough to allow beggars to be choosers. Use meekness as a weapon, lethallin,' she advised. 'If you are humble, they are blind to you…Magister Pavus is very right,' Briala added.

She briskly looked to Veldrin. 'How freely may I speak before the humans?' she asked.

'Don't worry about me,' Dorian bitterly chuckled. 'I've travelled with Solas, remember? I've heard it all before…not to mention I took a vow of celibacy but a fortnight past.'

'Amatus,' Vel whispered; he took her hand in his and softly pressed it to his lips, then shook his head – the sorrow and the love the gesture carried made something in Abelas' frozen expression shift, minutely. Briala herself was mildly touched, though better trained to hide it.

'Well, then,' Briala said, 'we should consider all options. Within Arlathan, the effects of the broken veil can only benefit the Elvhen. We will grow stronger, not in numbers, perhaps…'

'That's another fair point,' Maevaris thoughtfully said. 'If I were you, golden one, I'd fund a festival of love post haste.'

'Erm, festival of love?' Abelas queried, sounding truly thrown. 'What mean you by…'

'Baby making holiday,' Mae clarified, arching an eyebrow. 'I assume Elvhen baby-making is as fun as human baby making, no? is he the right person to ask?' the Magistra earnestly questioned, turning to Vel. 'Doesn't look like much baby making joy has come his way in the past three millennia…'

'Oh, you mean as in a city wide go forth and multiply?' the Sentinel asked.

'Or a city wide lie back and think of Arlathan,' the blonde woman shrugged, 'but I would advise a lot of free beverages along side that. I'm not merely saying this for the purpose of making you blush – though a handsome blush you do sport, golden boy. The Marquise is right in what I assume she questioned was safe to say before the humans; time hidden courses in your favour. Building numbers in that time would not be bad, either, because human numbers will inevitably dwindle. Not in Tevinter, but outside it…'

'That would take at least two decades to matter, Mae.' Veldrin said. 'It would also make us more of an enticing target…Even two decades of pure, Arlathan born Elvhen will not form enough of a standing army for meaningful defence, especially not before a Tevinter where humans continue to thrive. We will just look as a more bountiful orchard to plunder.'

'Then fifty years should be in order,' Briala shrugged. 'And yes, Magistra Tilani, that is precisely what I had meant to say. Thank you for gracefully accepting…'

'I am the very definition of grace, honey,' Mae thinly smiled.

'I am overwhelmed,' Abelas earnestly said; for once, there was no trace of cold condescension in his voice. 'You are minded to help…'

'We're not minded to help you, Abelas,' Dorian said, with a sigh. 'We are minded to fairly restore at least some of what was yours, once, because we're not all the bastards and thieves you think we are.'

'I do not have five decades,' Abelas said. 'Solas might have had that expanse of time, but I do not have it – the city is slipping from under me. With our raid upon Tevinter's sky we bit off more than we could chew; your men and women are so well conditioned that they only speak of how great life was, before. After we brought the people of Tevinter to freedom, there was no peace, no pause, no joy. They hate us, as the Tevinter Shem once did. They make up almost a third of Arlathan's population, and they are stirring ill blood amid all the others, for we do not know how to treat them; we do not even know how to speak to them. But for Flavius, there would be revolts already…

'We will not last five decades. We will not last half of one.'

Abelas clenched his jaws.

'Flavius…' he shakily followed, 'Flavius assures me that Radonis will find these borders passable, for the simple reason that neither the Imperium nor Antiva have other uses for our great forests than baring their teeth at each other; neither Shem nation has truthfully moved in to claim or exploit these lands for thousands of years.'

'Because they can't,' Veldrin nodded. 'And we are at open war with the Qun already. One more claim will not matter; the Imperium has never recognised their territorial waters anyway.' she added, looking to Maevaris; the blonde woman thoughtfully shook her head.

'You know how it is, Vel, honey,' she hesitantly said. 'There's nothing to make a little piece of forest or a little strand of beach more enticing than the knowledge that someone else actively wants it. I agree with Flavius that if it were up to Radonis alone, this would pass unhindered – but this cannot be our argument, and we should not say it out loud unless its pried forth from our tongues with fiery pincers.'

'It is truth,' Abelas frowned.

'The importance of truth is highly overestimated,' Briala replied. 'We cannot go to Radonis and say – give us this land you've never had real use for, because…'

She hesitated, and pulled a map of the entire continent from underneath Abelas' parchment.

'Look,' she said, spreading it out before all. 'If we go in and say give us your un-colonised land, we will be publicly opening flood gates, while we have yet to build a dam downstream. If Tevinter uses its girth to snatch Antivan territory now, what is to stop them from acting the same here?' she ended, placing her hand atop the Brecillian Forests, in Ferelden. 'Or here,' she followed, pointing to The Tirashan, in Orlais.

'Or in the Arbour Wilds,' Dorian added, with a sigh. 'There are many plots of land that humans have not been able to tame, but they still regard them as their legitimate territory…'

'It is not,' Abelas put in, between gritted teeth.

'Again, that is irrelevant,' Maevaris said. 'If we start on that note, no other nation on Thaedas will recognise Arlathan, because they will think to the future and see that this is likely to happen to them as well.'

Briala nodded. 'If there is one argument that will alienate Orlais, it's that one.'

'We do not have the numbers to claim all these places,' Abelas said, softly.

'But in a hundred years we well might,' Vel said. 'The Shem may not have vision over millennia as we once did, yet they will still see a century in the future…Monastic lines are a form of immortality as well, Abelas. Humans remember, too. Oh, Gods, if Solas were here I would take a page from Sera's book and knee him in the tenders, I swear.' She angrily muttered.

'I would take great care of how I speak…' the Sentinel angrily began.

'Well,' Briala icily interrupted, 'I find myself in great agreement with the Magistra Pavus. If he had not so monstrously overreached, and accepted that humans are here to stay, our negotiating position would be stone solid, if you allow me the vulgar pun. With Solas behind us, we could just walk into the humans courts, point at the maps, and say this is ours, and this is ours, and this is ours too, and if the thought of an Exalted March even springs into your minds, you'll have enough statues of soldiers to decorate every crossroad in every village from Antiva City to the Dales.'

'Because that approach served you all so well in Halam'shiral,' Abelas smirked.

'In Halam'shiral we did not have Solas,' the Orlesian dryly returned.

'It can be argued you have Lusacan now,' Dorian put in, in a voice riddled with doubt.

'The very same Lusacan who gleefully assisted the Ancient Imperium in reducing Elvhenan to ash, Magister Pavus.' Briala muttered. 'I have many personal reasons to hate Solas, but he, such as he is, would have been vastly preferable. Yet,' she sighed, 'many waters under many bridges…This argument line will not work, Abelas. I'm sorry.'

'So what am I to do?' the Sentinel bitterly asked. 'Are we that desperately hopeless? If truth has no relevance, and fairness has no relevance, we are lost – reduced to begging our blood enemies for mercy…'

Vel drew a deep breath. 'That was always a given,' she whispered. 'None of this has a snowball's chance in hell of happening if the Gods do not will it, and I fear kissing Razikale's slipper is not negotiable.'

'The additional hurdle with that being that if Lusacan and Razikale are actually inclined to forgive your past trespasses against them,' Dorian said, 'real or imaginary trespasses…' he soothingly added, when Abelas beheld him with unadulterated, fiery hatred, 'and they decide to further back your claims with force, I don't think the rest of the continent will respond with anything else but force in return…'

'We – they – will prevail over any human army, of course, but a war above still frail Arlathan would be an unmitigated disaster,' the Magister tiredly said. 'Even with the dragons as threat, the solution to the continent's Elvhen problem remains clear as day – if we finally succeed in killing you all, the problem will go away. Forever. And sadly, Abelas, I think that while we humans still have the numbers, a lot of the South will regard the sacrifice worthwhile. You have an ancient ruin, with fortifications not designed for modern siege machines. You historically were over-reliant on your magic and the Fade, and you no longer have either; you may rebuild in time, but you say this is time you do not have.'

'The Shem would die in their tens of thousands,' Abelas said.

'Yes, but we are still millions, tend to mindlessly give ourselves to baby making, and can ultimately afford it,' Dorian said. 'You cannot. If your people get caught in the crossfire, and your numbers fall to where not even the mother and grandmother of all Elvhen baby making festivals will restore them, you will effectively be purged.'

The Sentinel pressed his hands to his temples. 'I know,' he whimpered.

'It must not get to that,' Briala decisively said. 'Whatever it comes to, it must not get to that – the solution must be diplomatic, or none at all. Assuming Tevinter would raise an army to defend the people, that army will demand a price, and we cannot…Oh Gods, I can only imagine what that price will be, and it will be as lethal to us, as a race, as any war.'

'A price,' Maevaris echoed. 'Hm. Dorian?'

The man raised his glance to hers and sustained it for a long minute. 'Mae,' he breathed. 'You can't be thinking that…'

'Oh, but I am,' she said. 'And you know as well as I do that this is the only path available.'

'They won't take it,' Dorian said. 'Hell, I wouldn't!' he exclaimed.

'What are you on about?' Veldrin asked, in utter confusion. 'And who's they?'

Maevaris drew a deep breath, and paused for a further long minute. 'Alright,' she said, once she had gathered enough courage to speak. 'How do you say I am sorry, in Elvhen?' she asked, looking to delay revealing her thoughts even further.

'Ar abelas,' Abelas bitterly chuckled.

'Really?' Maevaris inquired, eyes wide in amazement. 'Your name is I'm sorry?'

'His name is technically sorrow,' Briala frowned. 'What are you thinking, Magistra Tilani?'

The blonde woman bit her lower lip. 'Ar abelas, then, my friends,' she softly uttered. 'I have once warned Veldrin that I am really good at politics, and you're about to take a very un-sugared tasting of it. You are not going to like it,' she warned.

'I'm not liking it,' Dorian mumbled.

'Speak your mind, Mae,' Vel said, visibly bracing. 'What is it that you and Dorian see that we do not?'

'The only way that you get your borders without starting a war is if you buy them.' Maevaris dryly said. 'We won't be going to Radonis and the Magisterium with a plea; we will be going to them with an offer they cannot refuse.'

'We have no amount of gold that would constitute such an offer,' Abelas said.

'It's not gold you will be offering,' Maevaris said, remaining silent, and allowing the realisation of what she had meant to slowly, freezingly creep upon the three elves; Vel caught it first, and turned away from her human friend, shivering. Briala understood next, and covered her mouth with both hands. It fell to Abelas last, and he, in turn, bent as if his spine had suddenly snapped.

'I cannot,' he uttered, on a shaky breath. 'I cannot…You are despicable!' he whispered, snapping straight and darting to his feet.

Maevaris bowed her head to the insult, her lips drawn thin.

'I would not accept this, Abelas,' Dorian said, shaking his head in disgust. 'I would not…'

'Then,' Maevaris implacably said, 'more the fool you, Dorian. The only thing that Arlathan has that the Imperium desperately wants is our elves. We do not want your jungle; we want you to return our stolen property. Offer Radonis this, and you will have your borders in the bat of an eyelid. No one will oppose it – in truth, it might well be the very first thing that will sail though the Magisterium without debate.'

'You're heartless, Mae,' Vel whispered.

'No, sweetness, I am pragmatic, and I shan't deny a certain level of self-interest, here.' The blonde Magistra said. 'The higher one rises, the more precarious one's situation is – Tevinter may look like a fortress, but we all know it is not. If you think with your heads, and not with your hearts, you will see that I am correct. This is a solution that will fly, because we shall be giving Magisterium what it truly wants… You do not wish for this to be the Magisterium's demand, and I assure you, they will demand it; we are pre-empting that by bringing it to them of our own accord. We will also be pre-empting other demands, such as say, a tribute of a thousand heads a year in exchange for the Imperium's warm protection. Also, Abelas,' she followed, 'if you think about it, what I just suggested will take a lot of undesirables out of your hair.'

'By selling out thousands of tortured, enslaved innocents,' the Sentinel growled. 'Your house elf,' he spat, in Veldrin's direction, 'might well wish to return to you – kindly she was treated, free and respected in all but name. Do you think that those who die in toil and sweat in your salt mines will be as eager to return to the whips of their masters?'

'You just said yourself that you are unable to control them,' Mae spoke dryly. 'They will be the last of yours you will sell out.'

'You cannot swear to that, Shem'len,' Abelas hissed, 'and even if you did, your word is nothing to me.'

'Nor to me,' Briala spoke up. 'Humans made promises in Halam'shiral, and we see how well they kept them!'

'I am not a fickle Orlesian Divine, Marquise,' Maevaris coldly said. 'I am a Magister of the Tevinter Imperium who heads a third of Senate, has means to buy majority in Publicanium and the sheer, shameless vaunt to blackmail or destroy all who stand against me. I am a defender of my people, all of my people, round eared, knife-eared or horned, or indeed, three foot tall and bearded. Inform yourself on my rise1, then speak to me again with more respect – were I not born in the wrong body, I would be an Archon candidate, and you will not lapse in your meekness towards me, either.'

'If you want your borders, this is how you get them,' Mae decisively said. 'No wars, no bloodshed, no final solution to the Elvhen problem. If Arlathan wills to live, it must return what it has taken from Tevinter. And now, knowing this,' she gently followed, shifting her glance to Abelas, 'are you absolutely sure you cannot last hidden for another decade or two?'

'To what end, Magistra Tilani?' the Sentinel asked, in utter defeat. 'As Keeper Lavellan well points, we shall not create a worthwhile army within that time…We may live much longer years now that the veil is weakened, but we do not mature faster than humans; quite to the contrary, in fact. If we wait two decades we will simply be riper for plunder, and we shall lose then more than what we do not willingly give now…Heavens, how do I decide this…'

'Think as Solas might,' Veldrin said, in a faint voice. 'Ask your counsel within Arlathan…'

'But think whom you take in that counsel with cold clarity,' Maevaris said, slowly. 'Flavius…'

'He has been nothing but wise and trustworthy,' Abelas responded. 'As Keeper Lavellan told me he would be.'

'Yes, but he is not Liberato,' Dorian grunted, from the depth of his chest.

'I fail to…'

'He's a slave, Abelas,' Veldrin gently clarified. 'If we go before Magisterium with this offer, Flavius will be one of those who'll have to be returned in chains. There will be many who'll take great pleasure in that sight, and he well knows this.'

Abelas lowered his glance. 'Perhaps he will yield to the greater good,' he said.

'It doesn't matter,' Dorian replied, shaking his head. 'Even if he goes of his own accord, he will be placed in chains the moment the ships make port. His was the highest profile Elvhen desertion…'

'Radonis will forgive,' Vel contradicted. 'He saw Flavius as a friend.'

'It's not Radonis that will seek to punish and humiliate him,' Maevaris contradicted. 'It's our dear friend Cassius…'

'How can you not take that distasteful man out of your hair?' Briala shot. 'Will me to do it, and I will bury him so deep no scavenger will find him!'

'And so, start a war in Magisterium the consequences of which not even I can predict. The great difference between myself and Cassius is that I lead my fraction but his fraction leads him, Marquise. He's but their loudly barking mouth – silencing him will only create a louder howl.' The blonde Magistra said. 'Not to mention that you will commit an act of war against the Imperium, as an official of the Orlesian Empire. I, personally, would greatly welcome Cassius coming to an early accidental demise, and should that offer stand in five years, I might take you up on it with glee.'

'Doing it now would be counterproductive in a million ways,' Dorian agreed. 'But, indeed, Abelas, Flavius' stance on this will be heavily dictated by his personal welfare. Think well…'

'I shan't betray a man who gave me his trust, and whose trust I have earned.' Abelas dryly answered. 'If I am to make this abominable choice, I cannot exclude the voice that might speak loudly and coherently against it.'

'I agree with him,' Veldrin softly said. 'This choice might be the last Flavius makes of his own will. We should not take it from him.'

A great silence followed in her words' wake, and all five sunk to their thoughts.

'Have we started the ticking of a clock, by meeting thus?' Abelas dared ask, at long length. 'How long do I have…'

'The wards we have set for my library allowed none to hear us,' Dorian said.

'None bar two,' Veldrin sadly reminded. 'And they are my task; none of this shall come to pass or outlast Radonis' rule if we do not have them on side. Abelas,' she said, turning to the Sentinel, 'we've not started a clock yet, but I suggest you hurry…The option to stay hidden is still there,' she whispered. 'Give this thought a fair hearing too. I'll speak to the dragons, and shall meet you at the Crossroads within two days.'

The Sentinel nodded, and stood.

'Ma serannas,' he non-directionally said. 'Do you intend to face them alone?' he asked.

'No, I am going with her,' Dorian decisively said, leaving all stunned. 'Moral support, as it were,' he shrugged.

'You should not breach their sanctum, Shem,' Abelas dryly said, looking over his shoulder. 'She was greeted as an equal, while you…'

'I was also greeted as an equal,' Dorian said, frowning. 'You're making a face like out of all the things you've heard today, that was the most horrible,' he spoke, when Abelas' gaze turned to sheer disgust.

The Sentinel spoke no further, though; he passed though the eluvian and left, not caring to take his maps with him.

'Gods, he looks as though we just spit in his mouth,' Briala said, arching an eyebrow.

'We sort of did,' Veldrin dryly replied. 'But, I dare think we did that by taking Solas down a notch or two…'

'Well, it was deserved – only fools start wars without calculating what happens if they lose, and both Solas and Abelas did that. You should go, too, Vel,' Maevaris interrupted. 'The Old Gods don't seem to be the patient type, and they know we are plotting with those they despise.'

'Can you truly see to Senate?' Briala asked; the blonde Magistra nodded.

'Even more so because Josephine Montyliet is in town,' she shrugged. 'Forgive me, Marquise, I did not wish to demean you before our sour friend, and add what he would doubtlessly regard as a third untrustworthy element to the plot, but Orlesian recognition is secondary. The nation whose recognition we need first and foremost is Antiva.'

'I am insulted nonetheless,' Briala said, dryly. 'You're saying that you needed the shape of my ears more than you factually needed my council…'

'Yes, well, go chew on it, and try not to regurgitate.' Mae said, with her lips drawn thin. 'Varric is a man of great conversational talents, and he assures me Antiva is in dire straits – if we ask them for a piece of unused land to permanently lower the price of fish…I have exchanged many a letter with Ambassador Montyliet over the years, and she seems amenable, so I am pretty sure we can get to a zone of agreement. If Antiva poses no resistance, and immediately concedes land to Arlathan, as it stands now, Orlais will not have to jump though too many hoops. You may thank me at your leisure,' she snarled.

'I'm not sure whether to thank you or to be scared, Mae,' Veldrin said.

'I am not where I am because I bore a divine mark, doll.' Maevaris said, smiling. 'Quite to the contrary. And thanking me is enough – I love you to bits, babe.' She said, giving Veldrin a tight hug.

'Any other advice from the tar pits of politics?' Dorian queried, standing and looking horribly apprehensive.

'Yeah,' Mae answered, keeping her arm around Veldrin's waist. 'Don't bring Lusacan lilies. He hates them with a passion.'

1 Now, Mae might sound over the top here, but she is not. Out of our entire cast, Radonis aside, she is the only one who is a non-incidental politician; unlike Dorian, who is interested in it, but ultimately innocent and very little likely to play in the shadows, she was raised for this role, she loves it, and this is her playground.

Good evening all :) And we doubt anyone has love on their mind there...

Thanks for visiting, reading and commenting.

Cheers, Abstract & IvI