The vision begins

The air itself rent asunder,

Spilling light unearthly from the

Waters of the Fade,

Opening as an eye to look

Upon the Realm of Opposition

In dire judgement.

Exaltations 1: 4-11

'I think explanations are in order,' Vivienne said, crossing her elegant fingers in her lap.

She had not spoken a word as they'd been escorted out of the Chantry, and out of the city; she'd remained equally silent as the pathways of the Eluvians returned them to Val Royaux. But then, Veldrin thought, none of the others had spoken a word, either. Not even Varric.

They were now all sitting in Celene's private study, and though all efforts had been made to accommodate them, it was still slightly cramped for such a large company. Distractedly, she considered that the differences between the Imperium and Orlais were plainly laid out in the very architecture of their rulers' chambers, for Radonis' rooms – the Archon's rooms – had been built with the clear knowledge that Conciliarum would often visit them…

A reminder of the fact that although the Archon sat at the head of the table, Senate still ruled; chambers were not his own, but a public space to which some had immediate and unbarred access.

By contrast, Celene's receiving room was small; the Empress was not watched or checked, at least in theory. She granted audiences to her subjects. There must have been, of course a Council room, but the difference between the private and the public Sovereign was palpable, and had probably been intended to show that true power in Orlais solely belonged to the Emperor or Empress.

And, whether that projection of power was true or not, on this day, it merely showed how lonely and burdened Her Radiance, Celene Valmont the First actually was.

'Agreed,' Celene said; she'd sounded neither haughty nor tired. 'Our fears are realised, I take it? The Enlightened Prince has not witnessed a true miracle?'

'Quite the opposite of one,' Briala evenly responded. 'And it is worse than we had anticipated…'

'Not only is she not Andraste,' Vivienne confirmed, a slither of weariness in her voice, 'but I believe she is quite powerful, and unfortunately, quite mad. Many explanations are owed, however,' she added, turning to Cassandra, and not Veldrin. 'How long have you known?' she stingingly asked. 'About who she is. About who they are?' she ended, casting an icy glare at Lusacan.

'Of who they are, I've known since Lady Mystery's awakening,' Cassandra said, softly.

'The knowledge of the true nature of myself and my sister,' Lusacan spoke up, 'was withheld thus far so that it does not cause unrest in the Imperium. And you too will withhold it, Lion Empress, for the same reasons, as well as many others, particular to you alone.'

'Perhaps,' Celene politely said. 'Perhaps not – it wholly depends on the answers you provide, Monsieur…Lord Watcher, I understand?'

The Dragon God shrugged and nodded.

'We do not like being kept in the dark,' she followed, in the same impeccably polite tone, 'and we especially do not like being threatened. Inquisitor, for all the friendship and gratitude that tie us, we must admit we've found your words of late painful.' Celene added, shifting her glance to Veldrin. 'Our affection for you remains steady, yet, alas, we feel as though your good feelings towards us have somewhat waned.'

'Ar abelas,' Veldrin said, with a slight inclination of her head. 'It was not Your Radiance to call forth such a cold display, but Denerim. I…we felt that if there was anyone who could keep Ferelden in check, and prevent that the blood of the remaining Elvhen on the continent be shed, once more, under false pretences, it would be you.'

'It could have been differently worded,' the Empress replied, 'but let us not think on this matter now…What was it that you saw, Madame de Fer?'

In a display of lack of self control such as Veldrin would never have never expected from Vivienne, the Grand Enchanter nervously ran her fingers over her cleanly shaved skull, and shook her head.

'An abomination, Your Radiance…' She replied, in a low whisper.

'Well,' Dorian interrupted, crossing his legs and dangling his glass between his fingers, 'she's not technically an abomination, as she is not possessed. Let's keep our vocabulary under control, Vivienne.'

Of all those present, he was the only one who'd partook of the laid out refreshments, and he seemed in a mood so foul that half a glass had made him renounce any sort of decorum.

'What would you call what we all saw, then, Dorian?' Vivienne shot back.

'The Great Huntress Andruil,' Veldrin replied, in her husband's stead. 'And, unfortunately, I think, a little more.'

Celene half nodded. 'Go on,' she prompted, keeping her eyes on the former Inquisitor; it was nonetheless Briala who tiredly spoke next.

'Our legends,' she thoughtfully began, 'give Andruil great skill with bow and arrow. They give her power over animals, and the ability to take their shape…It's not far fetched to think that she can shift into a human; the Lord Watcher here, projects himself in human form at will. But the power of the illusion that she inflicted on Prince Vael…'

She shook her head.

'It should not be within her remit,' the red-haired elf ended.

'Not only that,' Veldrin added, 'but its, hm, staying power is…odd.'

'Staying power?' Cassandra quietly inquired; Vivienne gave her a brief nod.

'Yes, your worship,' the Grand Enchanter confirmed. 'The room we met her – truly met her -in was no illusion; the illusion was what we saw when we first entered, which means that she has had an army of human builders and painters under her spell for a long time, and that they did not know what they were actually doing.'

She bit her lower lip.

'It is still quite weak, and its range is small, but…'

'Could you see though it, immediately?' the Empress asked.

'No,' Vivienne said, dryly. 'I doubt any of us could, Viscount Tethras aside,' she continued, gracefully tilting her head in Varric's direction. 'But I could still feel its magic – a simple dispel from any of the present mages would have revealed it, if she had not shattered it herself.'

'She should still not be able to do it,' Veldrin sighed. 'Andruil was no mage, and controlling the minds of humans...'

Lusacan rolled his eyes, and stood to fetch himself a glass.

'…is not impossible,' he said, in a cold tone. 'The reason why we chose dragons as our embodiments on our first rise was not that the human mind is too strong to control, but that human shape was useless to us, without our full powers. Our consciousness and voices could breach our prison's walls, and the wicked barrier you call a Veil, but our true energies could not.'

He poured himself a full crystal cup, then dreamily beheld the colour of the wine, and the sun's play within the rosy liquid before speaking again.

'Andruil comes,' he reluctantly followed, 'because Pride has weakened the veil; so did we. Our powers are not what they should be yet, because part of the barrier remains in place, but, in time, they will trickle through and both she and us will return to true strength.'

'So,' Celene concluded, thoughtfully, 'that might still mean that the Imperium has two extraordinary powers on its side, while the so-called prophet is alone. Surely, this could be ended before it spirals further out of our control?'

She stopped, when Cassandra sorrowfully shook her head.

'No, Your Radiance,' the Divine said softly, 'I dare say it cannot. None in living history has stood against the Chantry and won. Not even the Imperium, Dorian, and it is the Chantry we will be going against, because...'

'Because the Chantry controls both Mage Circles and Templars,' the Tevinter Magister said.

'And the common folk,' Briala completed, in a shaky voice. 'And none of us, not even you, vhenan,' she followed, not caring about the fact that uttering the term of endearment caused Vivienne to cringe in alarm, 'can do that. Not fully, at least, but…'

Varric rolled his eyes. 'Partial, on that account, means it doesn't hold more water than a sieve,' the dwarf said, 'yes. I think we've all learnt that at some point or another. Hawke did her best to disarm the pending explosion in Kirkwall, but she failed, no matter how she tried. Even the fact that she had the majority of the city behind her did not prevent…Yeah,' he sighed, in defeat.

'So you think our voices assembled will make not an iota of difference, Viscount?' Celene asked, thoughtfully leaning her chin on her palm.

'No, Your Radiance,' the dwarf replied.

'All the crowned heads of the continent do not count as much as one Maker's Bride,' Vivienne said, dryly. 'And now,' she added, shifting her angry stare to Lusacan, 'all who sit in this room are compromised, in no small measure, thanks to you, Monsieur. If you had warned me of what we were about to face…'

The man looked over his shoulder, and smiled ironically. 'Madame herself said she is well prepared for owls. I did not wish to insult her more than I had, by my late night visitation…'

'Excuse me?' Varric and Cassandra asked, at the same time, one sounding as outraged as the other; Vivienne herself seemed on the very edge of a fit.

'I called it!' Dorian chuckled. 'We'll settle up later…'

'Excuse me, darlings,' Vivienne muttered, 'but with all the world at stake, you two were betting on…'

'Neither of us could sleep, what with the world at stake and all, so…' Varric shrugged.

'Should we actually be discussing this, now?' Celene inquired, sounding utterly disgusted. 'We have to commend you once again, Inquisitor; no small task it could have been keeping all these under, ah, steady guidance.'

'And this is not even all of them,' Veldrin replied. 'In any event, Vivienne, if we had told you what we suspected, from the beginning, you'd not have come to ascertain it – we're all unreliable, in your eyes.'

'But not in ours,' the Empress intervened. 'We've seen and heard too much of you, all of you, to understand that there is great capability within your oddities. If you had but once spoken to us…'

'I believe Archon Radonis did, Your Radiance,' Vel softly spoke; Celene's only response was a icy and cutting glance, which was only rendered sharper by the eye slits of her mask, and more poignant by the fact that Vivienne was now literally radiating the heat of fire and brimstone.

It took two deep breaths for the Grand Enchanter to still herself and her fury. 'You knew as well, Your Radiance?' she politely inquired. 'Of the suspicions, of the web of lies?'

Celene surrendered by a nod. With a sigh, she reached behind her head, to undo the silk ribbon bindings of her mask; Briala swiftly stood to help, and, rid of her golden lion mask, the Empress looked human, utterly breakable, and, most of all, miserably alone.

'We were informed of the suspicions, yes,' she spoke.

Briala had placed her hand upon her sovereign's bare shoulder, after quietly laying the mask on the Empress' bureau.

'We,' Celene said, 'could not give them credence without your testimony, and, as we recall, you had suspicions of your own, Madame de Fer. Archon Radonis gave us assurances that there is a minor chance a war to end all wars would not come to pass; Her Worship, Divine Victoria was ready to acknowledge the Elvhen Goddess as Andraste so that we all might see peace, in our lifetimes. Now, after all you've seen, do you believe that peace is what the Great Huntress intends?'

'No,' Vivienne replied. 'Even if we all followed in the Divine's footsteps, put wisdom before truth and recognised her for what she is not, war with the Imperium will become inevitable. They would never…'

'It is not us that would never,' Lusacan interrupted, sitting back down. 'The suggestion that Andruil be recognised as Andraste was accepted and sustained by the Lady Mystery.'

Cassandra nodded, under Celene's surprised stare. 'It was, yes,' she quietly said.

'It is, therefore, not us who cannot share.' The Dragon God coldly followed. 'Andruil was ever the ambitious one…'

'…ever?' Veldrin echoed, causing the Empress to frown – whatever Celene thought Lusacan was, Veldrin thought, she now at least believed in his personal power, and people in power were not to be interrupted.

Lusacan himself did not mind it, however, and gave the former Inquisitor a sly wink.

'I take it is our sister's wish that we impart some tales long past?' he asked, with a light-hearted smile.

'They will not leave this room, I think, and it would help us all to know what we are really facing,' Veldrin returned. 'All will come out sooner or later; we might as well control how it comes out.'

'Been spending much time with Mae of late, Vel?' Varric wearily chuckled.

'Quite,' Dorian sighed.

'Very well then,' Lusacan said. 'It need not even be a long tale, and I am sure the Marquise can share the details I will leave out with the Lioness later…and it all starts, as oft things do, with a lovers' tiff.'

'I was actually waiting for this part,' the dwarf said, leaning slightly forward. 'Solas and Andruil…?'

He cast an uneasy glance at Veldrin, but the dark-haired elf merely shrugged. 'It is the stuff of quite hilarious Dalish legend,' she said, and Briala nodded. 'I should still like to hear the truth of it though…'

'Oh,' Celene said, looking up to her lover, 'is this the one about the halla hunt, the tying to the tree and the…er, other…what followed?'

'Indeed,' Lusacan laughed, 'though Dalish myth is, shall we say, fanciful, and to see the truth of the matter, we must go back to the root of said myth. I shall not start of how they came together in the first place, as it no longer matters; suffice to say that, in a different lifetime, Pride had different tastes. 'Tis the one thing that about him that time changed for the better,' he added, smiling at Veldrin.

She smiled uneasily in return.

'What matters is that that he did care, or love, I should say,' the Watcher followed, his voice turning cold. 'But as I am sure the Lady Patience has painfully learned, he loved…not quite enough, while Andruil, I think, loved not at all. It was the one you call Dumat that first realised we were living Gods,' he continued, lightly. 'Though on the front of it, Andruil declared such things nonsense, she did not do it because she disliked the idea; she did it because she quite fancied it, yet not if it was shared, thus…'

'She wanted unchecked rule of the very heavens?' Celene inquired, frowning.

'Yes, Lion Empress,' Lusacan responded. 'Then and now; in this, she comes to us unchanged. Andruil is not wise, but she is wily – she knew she could not hunt the rest of us alone, so in Pride's ear she whispered…That all of us but she and he were vain, or powerless, or meaningless; of the world they could rule together, once all of us were gone, of how her strength and his wisdom made them fit to claim Godhood, together.'

'Solas would not…' Veldrin breathed.

'No, Lady Patience,' Lusacan agreed. 'He did love her, but his principles were closer to his heart than even she was, and once he had full proof of her ambition, he ended their bond. I'd not have learned of his reasons for doing so, save for the fact that he shed tears over having to part with her in cups we shared.'

'She didn't take being ditched that well, I gather,' Dorian remarked.

'No, she did not,' the Watcher once more agreed. 'Yet, spoken words cannot be unspoken. Pride suffered, licked his wounds, then, slowly, healed of her, while she, who had not loved, did not grieve, and could not heal – not from the loss of him, but of the fact that for once, maybe the first time, someone had turned their back on her. He had escaped her trap, and that she could not abide.'

'Pride is short sighted,' Lusacan whispered. 'He thought that with our divine council hung, there was no need for further action; things would stay as they were, all of us would deny our Godhood, as he had. In his own way, though to the end of time he would deny it, Pride had the world and all its mechanisms moving his way. He thought he'd won. He hadn't, for we were far from resigned…Yet, then, as now, it was not us that balanced history off the edge of a cliff.'

'Still looking forward to the part with the tree,' Varric said. 'And what followed?'

'Me too,' Briala said, seating herself on the edge of Celene's desk. 'I do wonder how the Dalish distorted that one…'

'One cannot distort what one does not remember,' Lusacan said, in a conciliatory tone. 'Far more important events overshadowed that day, and to be fair, I do not know why it was even remembered at all…but, very well…not long after she had been, as you say in this world, ditched, Andruil caught Solas on one of his long dreams. He had not planned on full uthenara, none would, in the middle of a forest, but...'

'He'd hunted a deer of the kind you now call halla, roasted it, and gone to sleep by a stream,' the Dragon God followed, with a small shrug; it was, Veldrin thought, almost apologetic, and she could guess why. It all seemed so mundane, so…menial. The stuff of mortals, not the stuff of Gods. 'Whether she'd followed him, or simply caught the scent of blood, Andruil found him, sneakily took away his weapons, then woke him. No master at hand to hand combat, he was quickly overpowered…'

'And ended up tied to a tree?' Varric laughed, for the first time in genuine amusement. 'Not even I could make that up!'

'Ah,' Lusacan chuckled. 'If that is so, Child of the Stone, then what comes next should be more astonishing still: as payment for having hunted her deer – though she alone thought forests and all that dwells within them were her sole property – Andruil demanded that Solas serve her in a husbandly manner for a year and a day.'

'Alright,' the dwarf replied, jaw hanging slack. 'I could really not have made that up!'

'So far, so true to Dalish myth, though,' Veldrin softly said.

'Yes, little sister, but from here the tale spins otherwise; Solas reminded her that he no longer wanted her, and such a deal was out of sorts, while Andruil reminded him that he was tied to a tree, and if no agreement was reached, he would stay tied to it for all eternity.'

'The legends say that you, then, come to claim him as your own, as he had in some way wronged you,' Briala frowned.

'Yes, the Dark God Anaris, and all that,' Lusacan responded, with a disgusted smirk. 'Firstly, now that we have all crossed paths, I'll leave it up to you how dark I am. But I did come; not to claim him, as he had wronged me in no way, aside for winning against me at checkers two months past, and collected on the bet though I was…eh, slightly in my cups. I came to help him, for I saw his distress. It remains true that I and Andruil came to blows; the fact that I did not defeat her, however is a lie - I did defeat her, easily so, in fact. It's also false that while we fought, Solas somehow freed himself from his bonds. He didn't, I untied him, and the only reason while she lives to this day was that he begged me not to kill her.'

'He still cared for her,' Veldrin whispered. 'There was no trickery, no shooting in the back, no coward's escape...'

'No,' the Watcher replied, dryly. 'All that, Andruil invented much later, after…'

'After Solas had done away with you, you were all Forgotten, and there was no one left who could challenge her version.' Dorian said, in a dour tone. Lusacan contented himself on a nod.

'What a petty woman she must be,' Celene said, allowing herself a very un-royal smirk. 'After all these millennia, and these unholy claims she is making, her first thought is still taking vengeance for an ancient amorous debacle…'

Lusacan's chuckles and Veldrin's bitter smile surprised her, and she gracefully batted her eyelashes.

'That is not why she wants Solas, Your Radiance,' Dorian said, shaking his head.

'Whatever for, then?' Vivienne inquired. 'You've drained him of his powers – why else would she ask for the lover who jilted her and the woman who replaced her in his bed? Her Radiance is right; the sheer lack of decorum of the request is appalling…'

She frowned deeply, as Dorian, Lusacan and Veldrin shook their heads in unison. Briala, too, narrowed her eyes, in thought, and happened upon the truth before the Tevinters could speak it out loud.

'That's not why she wants them,' the Marquise said. 'Or rather,' she added, breathing in sharply, 'that's not who she wants.'

'We are not following,' Celene said, frowning in her turn.

'She wants the only two people in the history of all peoples, ours and hers, who can open the Veil at will.' Dorian replied, smirking a little at Vivienne, as if he'd expected her to understand it all much sooner.

'But…we were led to understand that neither can still do that,' the Empress said, her expression turning threatening. 'Have we been misled in this? It would be most…distressing.'

Lusacan dismissively waved his fingers, causing a faint blush of fury to ascend to Celene's cheeks; it was still Dorian who spoke up.

'We've not misled you, Your Radiance,' he shrugged. 'Veldrin's mark is gone, and so are her veil manipulation abilities, while Solas' is now the equivalent of a spent ember. It has not escaped Andruil that it was Veldrin to have removed his powers, however, and if she knew how to do that…'

'…she might be entitled to think that the Inquisitor can reverse the process, as well,' Vivienne said, biting her lower lip.

'Not fully, though,' Lusacan picked up. 'She would not risk that, for a fully restored Pride, with the Lady Patience, myself and the Lady Mystery at her side would soon best her; my wager, mortals, is that she only wants Solas empowered to where he would further weaken this wicked Veil of yours. Then, she would kill them both…or well,' he swiftly retracted, with haste that made Veldrin and Dorian exchange a grin, 'do onto them as Pride did onto her.'

Varric let out a little grunt; he was a writer, in the end, Veldrin thought. The miswording had not slipped his ear. 'So…' he began, 'not to be impertinent, Lord Watcher, but…can you, not you personally, of course, actually be killed?'

'Not in your sense of the word, no,' Lusacan replied, without even blinking.

'Yet you said that Solas stopped you from killing Andruil, which means you could have killed her.' The dwarf insisted. 'Thus if she is like you, godly and immortal…'

'It's not as you think, Varric,' Veldrin rushed, for she sensed Lusacan's anger rising. 'No one with the capacity for uthenara that the first of the Elvhen possessed can be killed, in how we understand death. Still, someone whose spirit is trapped in the beyond is just an inert body in ours. They're asleep, inactive. Technically, if you injure them to the point where they have to go to the beyond to heal, and keep their body in that injured state, they are forced to remain in the beyond. It is a kind of death, but not true death.'

'Just…incapacitation.' Dorian said. 'If the spirit of the dreamer is wilful enough, or still tethered enough to the unchanging world, it can, and will, return. If the body is fully destroyed, as it was in Mythal's case, they re-embody, but the essence of the energy remains.'

He breathed in deeply, and uneasily looked about himself.

'Solas told me,' he followed, in a voice no louder than a whisper, 'that Elvhen knew death, but not aging.'

'No lie was told there,' Lusacan agreed, standing to refill his cup, and thoughtfully glanced out the window once more. 'Immortality,' he said, 'is only what the spirit, the essence, the power within makes of it. No more, but certainly not less. Imagine dying of a long disease, the splitting pains of childbirth, bleeding in war or slowly losing to infection. Imagine agony in the unchanging world, then slipping into the beyond, where all is perfect; each dreamer dreams their dream, and each spirit's world is shaped by their desires. If such a thing was given, would you to agony return? One would not even truly know if they had left the unchanging world behind; in the beyond, disease miraculously cures itself; you watch your child screaming in a midwife's arms, then live a dream beside them…The weak do not return from the beyond. Only the Gods do, for theirs is the responsibility to keep those who are unlike themselves from…'

'...wrecking history,' Veldrin softly concluded.

'Still,' Josephine weakly spoke up, 'if you could kill her then, why did you not do so now? With her dead, or even gone to this Elvhen long sleep, the illusion would fall apart. All could see what she truly is.'

'Sometimes, Josie, people only see what they wish to.' Cassandra sighed. 'I know how ill regarded I am by the Southern Chantry. The Northern Chantry exists in name only. Could you then swear that all the people who were told that Andraste is reborn would see anything else than the Malefica Imperio having once more martyred her?'

'Now you even speak as one of them, your worship,' Vivienne poisonously returned.

'Yes, well, Viv,' Dorian snarled, 'knowing two words of Tevene – the most popular ones in the south, I might add - doesn't make Cassie's predicament any less true. I am unsure how you plan to tell all the illiterate southern peasants, or all the southern Chantry that they were had, unless you plan to have a walk-in tour of the room we were just in, with a viewing of Andruil's real body thrown in for good measure.'

'Even then,' Celene followed, massaging her temples, 'the poison has spread too far and seeped too deeply. The Chantry could say it is all a plant; killing her was never an option. Exposing her might be, but if she plans to stay put in Starkheaven, while rising the Chantry's forces to arms, we have no hope of that, either…Hence, war it is…'

'All mages could see though her,' Vivienne stubbornly said.

'Excuse me, Madame de Fer,' Dorian aggressively mumbled, 'what would that accomplish? It's been your life's work to keep mages prisoners to the Chantry. The brainwashed ones in the Circle of Montsimmard, and even the rebellious Circles in Ferelden would not listen to you. Not even a snap of your perfect fingers would undo nine centuries of conditioning. Lest we forget, Enchanter Fiona does not bow to you, but she still bows to the Chantry itself.'

'Less stiffly, though,' Veldrin reminded.

'Doesn't matter, Vel,' the Magister smirked. 'You can't expect the populace, who is already plagued by untrained mages in their midst turning to abominations to believe a word out of a mage's mouth.'

He darted to his feet, all by spilling the remainder of his glass in the process.

'We're fucked and staying fucked.' He growled. 'Excuse me, Your Radiance,' Dorian belatedly added.

Celene pursed her lips, not at such language being used in her radiant presence, but in thought. She reluctantly nodded, then shifted her glance to Cassandra.

'Chantry recognition of her and Andraste might still buy us some room to breathe,' the Empress said; her tone was mournful. 'I know that such a falsity would trample your faith into dust, your worship, yet, if you can still even entertain the notion, it would allow us to lure her out of hiding, or even allow us to think how she might be destroyed.'

Cassandra lowered her glance to the floor. 'I can't do that, Your Radiance. And not,' she forced herself to follow, 'because of my faith. I am more compromised than any of you, for Andruil has someone by her side…someone I love and trust, someone the Chantry loves and trusts as much, if not more so than they do me, who would immediately undo my play. Leliana…'

'Leliana?' Veldrin asked, in open alarm; the Divine nodded, curtly.

'Somehow, Leliana witnessed all that we did but saw…something else. Even with the illusion by the wayside in what regarded the rest of us, Leliana was still ensnared. All that she saw is me, turning my back on the Maker's Bride. So I am dead to her,' Cassandra whispered, in a trembling voice. 'Of almost three decades of friendship, nothing remains.'

'I'm sorry, Cassie,' Veldrin whispered, in the deep, pained silence that followed. 'I am so sorry…'

'I am too,' Vivienne said – somehow, she'd managed to put a shred of compassion in her voice, 'but the fact that Leliana was in the room doesn't only mean that we can not play for time…It also means that we probably shouldn't…Isn't that so, Lord Watcher?' she asked, setting her narrowed eyes on Lusacan's turned back; his nod was so brief that it was barely perceptible.

'Why do you think that, Madame?' Celene asked, slightly leaning forward to cross her arms on the desk before her.

'Because a partial dispel of an illusion is almost unheard of,' the Enchanter gravely answered. 'And by what our Elvhen friends here have explained, the thing we face is a hunter, not a mage. She should not be capable of it.'

'True,' Briala thoughtfully replied, in turn. 'According to our legends, that should be the realm of Dirthamen…Creators, you don't think…? You do not think she actually…ate them all?' she breathed, turning to Veldrin.

'It would explain quite a few things, yes,' Vel sadly nodded. 'She's clearly not afraid of what might follow her though the Veil, and we've seen Solas did absorb Mythal's powers; why would Andruil not be capable of the same?'

'But Solas cannot use Mythal's abilities; she was also a shapeshifter, by Morrigan's accounts, and she was able to possess bodies and objects at will, to assure her return. We've not seen any sign of Solas being able to do that – if he could, he might have escaped your trap.' Josephine asked, a slither of hope in her voice.

Dorian shook his head.

'It's also a question of time, Josie. Solas had a decade. Andruil had millennia to adapt, and I think the only thing that still hinders her now is that she has returned, but the remnants of the Veil are not allowing her to restore her full, new powers fast enough.'

'Indeed,' the Lord Watcher said, still not turning away from the window. 'Even our powers have not returned completely, but our other shapes give us the advantage of time to wait. Should Andruil come to manifest Dirthamen's or Sylaise's powers fully…Well,' he grinned, looking over his shoulder, 'she would not need mortal political manoeuvring, or the forces of this so-called Maker of yours to enlist armies and keep them enthralled.'

'Even worse, should she start manifesting Elghar'nan, good Gods,' Briala whispered.

Lusacan shrugged, but smiled. 'That would put you in…how would you say, Child of the Stone… quite a pickle?'

'I'm glad you still have a sense of humour, brother,' Veldrin muttered, only catching on to the fact that she'd actually called Lusacan her brother once all glances in the room had incredulously and reproachfully turned to her.

'Why wouldn't I, little sister? Nothing to make one feel more alive than a good challenge, and yes, if your thoughts wandered to it, immortality can get boring, should there no occasional snag along the path. Why do you all look at me thusly?' he queried in earnest confusion.

'Because we've all seen enough war to last us three lifetimes?' Cassandra shot back.

'War is in our natures, and thus inevitable, priestess of the misguided song.' He responded, still looking confused. 'Mortals,' he sighed.

'Yes, mortals,' Dorian ruefully grumbled. 'Which means that we do die, and we're rather not fond of the idea, nor, more importantly, of the idea of others dying because we've screwed things up, so…Besides, this will directly affect you, as well – even if she does not come to full strength before you do, you said the Gods' part in the weave of things is to keep history rolling, not dictate it. If you meant that, then we cannot allow so many deaths, even if you, eventually, win against her.'

'Your world still loses,' Lusacan nodded, now turning about in full. 'This is not the Gods' wish.'

'The bitch must be exposed,' Varric unexpectedly said. 'And fast.'

He leaned his elbows on his knees and hid his face in his hands.

'Declare for her, Cassie,' he added. 'Here, as well as in Tevinter.'

'That would be pointless; as I've said…' the Divine answered, shaking her head.

'It will buy Orlais time,' the dwarf quietly continued. 'If we want to save lives, then we must avoid the greatest states on the continent coming to blows; a Chantry proclamation for this woman, creature, whatever it is, will certainly give Orlais time to not engage Tevinter.'

Celene cranked her nose. 'This also makes our Empire a shield for Tevinter against Ferelden, Viscount Tethras. We are unsure we…'

'They won't be coming for you,' Varric grimly said; he straightened. 'They'll be coming for Kirkwall; Kirkwall will not declare for her, and we'll raise a stink about it, too.'

'Viscount Tethras…' Celene began, in a shocked tone, 'that's…'

'That's suicidal, Varric,' Veldrin concluded, her eyes wide and her heart full of gratitude and regret.

'What have we done that wasn't suicidal so far, Vel?' Varric bitterly laughed.

'Yes, Varric,' Cassandra spoke, in a voice that was not her own, 'but we've decided how much risk we are willing to shoulder for ourselves, not for entire cities. You can't just…'

'Yes, well, shit,' the dwarf shot back. 'Kirkwall is in the path of everything, anyway. Think about it, Cassie,' he said, with stifling kindness. 'Think of the maps. If the lunatics in Ferelden and Starkheaven decide to go to Minrathous, via Arlathan, we're in their way. And they're not going straight to Minrathous, even if Orlais joins the fray on the wrong side. As long as Andruil isn't all charged up, and the Imperium has Blue and Smokey on their side…'

'Blue and Smokey?' Lusacan questioned, in bewilderment.

'Yeah,' Varric shrugged. 'You and your other sister, the one who seems to like her herbs?'

'He's very fond of nicknames,' Dorian clarified, in a low whisper, as the Dragon God's eyes threatened to fill with rage. 'Just means he likes you.'

Lusacan scowled, but remained silent for a moment, visibly calculating.

'You will get crushed as in a vice, Child of the Stone,' the Watcher said, at length.

'We have really high walls,' Varric shrugged. 'I'll reckon we'll last a month or so, though I'll have to ask Vel to give me back my port keys. We'll need those chains for more than decoration.'

Vel furiously shook her head. 'No, Varric, no. There are thirty thousand people in Kirkwall.'

'But no Chantry to fill their heads with garbage; a friend of mine once saw to that, thoroughly,' the dwarf said, with great determination. 'They're also thirty thousand people whose lives have been upturned, houses ransacked, and women ravaged by Starkheaven's troops. The city will stand with me. Vael's name is a curse in Kirkwall.'

'You will still be crushed, Viscount,' Celene said, in the tone of one who knew that they had just been given a great gift, but did not know whether to accept it. 'Twice in a decade has your city burned; your walls will not hold off the might of Starkheaven and Ferelden combined, and once they are inside the walls…'

Varric clenched his teeth.

'We need some artistic flair, Your Radiance,' he said, slightly tilting his head towards her. 'You know, like in a play where a smoke bomb goes off stage left, but the villain appears from stage right? You are yourself a patron of the arts.'

'We are, Viscount, but in the plays we watch, the knives are fake,' Celene returned.

'Not so, vhenan,' Briala said, eyes narrowed and jaws clenched. 'Remember the one where the character of one Empress lifted her skirts to let a dog and an elf have their way with her?'1

'I do,' Celene rasped, her clenched fists turning white.

'The knives might have been fake, but the meaning was not lost. That play started a civil war. I think Viscount Tethras wants the Most Holy,' the red haired elf venomously spat, 'to lift her skirts, this time.'

'If she takes Kirkwall, she will have the Free Marches and Ferelden,' Vivienne said. 'That's half the continent – Varric, darling, this gamble is, even for you, too much. The wager of your people's blood is not acceptable.'

The dwarf shook his head. 'If push comes to shove, I'll surrender.'

'Your head will soon be on a pike, then,' Lusacan said, arching an eyebrow. 'Your people will suffer as all conquered do; mayhaps she'll spare them, for the sake of image, yet if you fall to her, you won't be spared.'

'Maybe I will, if I bow low enough,' Varric replied. 'Maybe I won't, but I don't give a damn. If I've learned anything about people who want to rule more than their share of the world, they can't resist a good gloat; what's a good villain without a 'Bwhahahahaha'?'

'Varric, my friend, sorry to break it to you now, but your writing's shit,' Dorian muttered.

'I beg to differ,' Varric mumbled, in return. 'On this occasion, it will be grandiose. After she has taken half the continent, Andraste will have to show herself to the masses, either in Kirkwall or Denerim. Give a speech, wave... She'll still have to lift her skirts. Appear in public, to an audience that she does not control. Which should give you a chance to strike.'

'And then what, Varric? Shocking turns of plot may work well in books or plays, yet…'

'I don't know what, then,' the dwarf helplessly shrugged. 'I and Cassie will only be buying you time - you guys will have to figure out the rest. You're the Gods and God-killers, right?'

Veldrin bit her lower lip to the blood, to hold back tears.

'I guess we are that, yes,' she whispered, looking to Lusacan.

He simply nodded, not returning her glance.

1 Reference to the Masked Empire, where Gaspard stages a play to show Celene as weak, just as she is trying to maintain peace in Halam'shiral, restore the Canticle of Shartan to the official Chant of Light, and keep the peace with Ferelden. Hence, her being, ahem, had by a dog (Ferelden) and obviously, an elf.

While a bit of an info dump, we hope makes the individual motivations of each character more recognisable and their actions, particularly Razzy and Lucy (as we call them), understandable in their own right without just being a service to the plot.