A/N: Sorry that this took longer than I was expecting, the summer's been a bit crazy so far! I should be able to manage the next chapter within a month though, as I've already written some of it because I was on a roll :). Anyway, we finally begin Act 2 in this chapter, and I did decide to do a small time jump of about 6 months. I didn't really want to go much longer than that, but I figured I should have somewhat of a time jump for story-telling purposes, and that seemed like a good enough length of time for me. Anyway, in my timeline, the Hawkes have been in Kirkwall for a little over three years by the start of this chapter, and the Qunari for about two years. Also, after finally playing the Trespasser DLC, I discovered sending crystals were a thing, and decided to adopt them for this story, as I'd already wanted the Wardens to have a fast way of messaging each other, and that is apparently canon. I figure my Fereldan Wardens are smart enough to get ahold of them or figure out how to make their own ;). Oh, and there is a bit of smut in this one, you should be able to tell where it starts and skip down to the next break if you don't wish to read it. Everything after that is all plot, hope you all enjoy!

Thanks as always to everyone who has favorited, followed, and read the story so far - I'm happy you're all enjoying it!

Extra special thanks also to my awesome reviewers from last chapter: Ioialoha, Lethal Dragon, LostSpace, bigjake90, WolFang1011, , ArmyWife22079, and Alkeni. I seriously love and appreciate hearing from you guys, it always makes my day :)!

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Disclaimer: As always, don't own any characters or dialogue you recognize from Bioware, just my own characters and the rest of the story :)!

Chapter 20: Messages

Brianna made her way back to Gamlen's house wearily, as she was nearing the end of another long day, the sun dipping low towards the horizon. When she entered, she was relieved to see that her uncle was not there – off at the Blooming Rose, no doubt. Mother, she knew, was likely still at the mansion, overseeing the repairs and refurbishment. A month ago, Brianna had finally convinced the Viscount to hear her petition, and he'd granted her and Mother the Amell estate – and the title that came with it. Not that Brianna cared about that, of course. She was simply happy that she could give Mother a better life and better place to live, and her childhood home back. It would also help that neither of them would ever have to work again if they didn't want to, with Varric busily peddling off the treasure he'd had brought back from the vault they'd found in the Deep Roads, before giving Brianna her half of the profits.

Of course, Brianna had never found herself the type to sit still and do nothing, so she fully intended to keep working whatever jobs she felt like doing to help Kirkwall. It was just nice not to have to scrape for every silver and bronze piece, and to be able to pick the jobs she wanted. With that in mind, she gathered up the pile of mail lying on a side table and sat down at the equally rickety kitchen table to read through it.

There wasn't a lot of import in the stack; the usual escort or delivery jobs, nothing especially important. It had been much the same for the last six months since the incident with Corypheus. The Qunari had been quiet, neither making a move to leave nor making a move to stir things up; Varric, much to his annoyance, had still been unable to find the least bit of information about Bartrand and the idol; and even Brianna's own forays into finding out more about the Calling had not borne much fruit. She'd begun to wonder if Mardin's assertion that she had some sort of important destiny wasn't wrong.

With that in mind, along with how quiet everything had been, she'd finally convinced Mardin three months ago to go visit his sister in Ferelden. Ayla, of course, had left for Ferelden only a few days after they'd returned to Kirkwall, along with Alistair and Carver, and so the only news had been the infrequent letters from both their siblings, sent along on ships from Ferelden. With Ayla due to give birth soon, Brianna had convinced Mardin he should go to visit there, and be there for her when she gave birth, as he was quite literally Ayla's only family in all the world, and she should have as much support as possible at such a time. Plus, she'd told him, it was not every day one became an uncle for the first time, and he should be there when it happened.

He had finally, reluctantly agreed, torn between his duty to figure out his destiny here and his desire to spend time with his sister, Brianna knew. He'd been very adamant that she contact him at the first sign something was about to go wrong, however, or the instant Varric got news of Bartrand. She had, of course, promised, but as none of that had occurred in the last three months, she'd had no reason to call him back yet.

So, in the end, she'd had to resign herself to infrequent letters from both her brother and her lover, for the ships between Ferelden and Kirkwall took a good two weeks each way. She would send a letter to the both of them, and it would take two weeks to get there, and another two weeks for their replies to come back. Carver's were often more infrequent, as unlike Mardin, he wasn't there to visit, and so sometimes he would be away on a mission. Fortunately, Mardin or even sometimes Ayla would keep her updated on her brother's movements, as Ayla had been (quite unhappily, Mardin told her) largely confined to the Keep for the last few months of her pregnancy, and since the baby had been born, as well.

Therefore, Brianna wasn't all that surprised to find a letter from Ayla towards the bottom of her pile of mail. She opened up the letter and read through; the first part was much the same as always, a rundown of how things were going at the Keep, where Carver had been and that he'd just gotten back, how both Alistair and her new baby girl were doing, that sort of thing. It was the last part of the letter that caught Brianna's attention the most.

No one knows Mardin better than I do. So I can see, even if he can't (or is denying it) that he is more serious about you than he claims. Though there are plenty of beautiful women here, he has not paid attention to any of them. I'm not sure he even sees them, and that is not the brother I knew back in Fallor. He does, however, talk of you often. And before, so far as I know, he never went a month without a woman in his bed, let alone three months.

I hope you were serious about wanting to make him happy, for I am now certain you are the only woman who can. I would simply ask that you be patient with him, as Alistair was with me, and keep things simple until he is ready to accept how he feels. It may take him some time to realize what he feels, or to stop being frightened of it, as it did for me. I promise you, however, that he is well worth the wait.

Brianna set the letter down, surprised but pleased at the contents. In her last letter to Ayla (which she'd made the other woman promise not to show Mardin, of course) she'd told her that she'd definitely decided she wanted to take Ayla up on her advice. The separation from Mardin had made her realize just how much she missed having him around, not just in her bed but in her life in general. It had made her realize she did want to pursue a more serious and hopefully permanent relationship with Mardin, depending on how things went, but as she'd told Ayla, she was not at all sure Mardin would feel the same way.

Though, it was true, he had not said anything about stopping their relationship during the last six months, even though they had been apart for the last three, neither had he said anything about changing their relationship in any way, or given her any indication that he was developing more serious feelings for her. Of course, she hadn't pushed him, either, content with how things had been following their return from the Vimmark Mountains, when they'd spent nearly every night in bed together, and had simply enjoyed each other's company during most of the days when they weren't otherwise occupied. She'd been surprised at how much fun she was having with him, laughing together and teasing one another, and she hadn't wanted to do anything to change any of that. So, she had not brought up the tenuous status of their relationship, and neither had he.

But now, it seemed, Mardin's own sister was quite confident that he had feelings for Brianna, and was simply frightened of those feelings, which was what Brianna had suspected all along. Yes, she could be patient with him, she decided. She did not need Ayla to tell her that he would be worth the wait, not when she'd already begun to realize it herself over the last six months, both in their time together and apart.

She moved to check the last couple of letters, hoping that one of them might be from Mardin, as it should have been long enough for a reply by now, and was pleased when she did pick up an envelope addressed to her in his scrawling script. She frowned when she picked it up, though, as it was heavier than she'd expected. She opened the envelope to find a blue crystal in a silver setting, hanging on a long silver chain, and she frowned in confusion at it. She could feel a faint throb of magic coming from it.

She dug the note out, and sure enough, in Mardin's typical scrawl, there was an explanation.

This, apparently, is called a sending crystal. It's for sending messages across long distances between the people that have the crystals, and it's something the Wardens got to communicate more easily while on missions. I managed to convince them to give me a set so I could talk to you, and Ayla later once I come back to Kirkwall. Once it's been activated, all you have to do is hold it and talk, and I'll be able to hear you even in Ferelden. So, though I have plenty to say, I'd rather talk to you than write it out. Use it as soon as you have time, please?

Written at the bottom, in a more precise, elegant hand, likely by one of the Warden mages, was the spell to activate the crystal. Brianna stared at it in astonishment. She'd never heard of such a thing – would this really work? If it did, it would be nice to actually hear Mardin's voice, and communicate with him in a far more timely fashion than waiting another month to hear back from him. And she also wouldn't have to worry about the possibility of her mother or Gamlen stumbling across one of Mardin's letters and reading some of the things he liked to write in there about how much he missed having her in his bed, and what he'd do if he was with her in Kirkwall. As much as she enjoyed reading that, she definitely didn't want anybody else to; it would be beyond embarrassing. Equally embarrassing was the fact that she'd tried her hand at writing similar things back. She didn't think she was terribly good at it, but Mardin seemed to like her attempts, if his replies had been any indication.

She looked thoughtfully at the crystal in her hand, then around the room. She did want to try it right away, but she didn't want her mother or Gamlen to see her talking to a crystal alone in a room, especially if it didn't work. In the end, she decided she'd head to Mardin's room in the mansion he shared with Fenris. At this time of the night, Fenris would likely still be at the Hanged Man with Varric, and she would have the place to herself.

She put away the mail in her room before scooping up the crystal and the note and heading to the mansion. It didn't take long before she was seated on Mardin's bed, the covers still rumpled as he'd left them, the armor stand and wardrobe bare and empty. She spoke the spell to activate the crystal, pleased when she felt the sensation of magic flare up in the item in response, and then she held the crystal in her hand as she spoke carefully into the crystal, feeling foolish, "Mardin? Are you there?"

There was a long moment of silence, during which she felt even more ridiculous for believing this might work, before the crystal flared a bright blue in her hand and Mardin's voice responded, "Brianna? Is that really you?" She watched in fascination as the light in the crystal ebbed and flowed with the rumbling rhythm of his voice – which sounded so clear it was like he was in the room with her. For some reason she had thought, even if it did work, it would change the sound of his voice or make him sound far away. She was glad it didn't.

"Yes, of course it's really me," she said with a laugh. "I didn't think this would really work."

"I wasn't entirely sure, either," he confessed. "At least, not across this distance. The Wardens were playing around with them in the Keep a bit when they first got them, and they've tried it a bit over short distances so far in Ferelden, but you're the first one across the ocean so far."

"Well, it seems to work just fine. It sounds like you're right in the room with me." She propped one of his pillows up behind her, against the headboard, and settled back against it for a hopefully lengthy conversation.

"I wish I was," he muttered. "How are things going there? How is everybody?"

"Everyone's doing well," Brianna told him. "Varric's emptying out that vault we found and selling off the treasure so the two of us can split the profits. He's a bit frustrated he still can't find Bartrand, though. Aveline's keeping busy with the guards, as usual, though she says they're getting a bit lazy without your training. Anders is staying busy with the clinic, also, and Merrill and Fenris are being, well, Merrill and Fenris. Isabela just got back from her latest search for the relic, where she turned up nothing again. But they're all quite well. How is Carver?"

"He's fitting in great here," Mardin replied. "Seems to get along well with all the other Wardens, and he's acquitting himself well on missions so far. Just went off on another one with Nathaniel a week ago. Nothing to worry about, though," he added hastily. "Just a scouting mission to make sure there's not any darkspawn out causing trouble."

"That's good." Brianna smiled in relief. It was still difficult for her to think of Carver going out into danger without her there, but he'd not had any major incidents with the Wardens so far – at least not that anyone had told her. "Oh, and when you see him, tell him the Viscount finally accepted my petition. The Amell estate is ours again. It happened just after I sent you the last letter, and we've been hiring workers to get it refurbished and restored. Mother and I should be able to move in about a month from now, if everything goes according to schedule."

"That's great! I'll be sure to let him know all your hard work paid off." There was a moment's pause, then he went on, "So your mother is pleased, then?"

Brianna nodded, then felt immediately stupid because of course he couldn't see her. "She seems quite pleased. She's been keeping very busy getting everything ready, and getting a whole new wardrobe befitting Lady Amell," she finished rather dryly. She did not quite share her mother's enthusiasm for the fancy dresses or upcoming balls that went with their new status. "How's your sister and her husband? And your new niece?" she added lightly.

Mardin chuckled. "Ayla's doing great, other than still being a little pissed that she can't leave the Keep, of course. She's back in full fighting shape, but she also doesn't want to leave Rylee alone with a wet nurse for any length of time, either, so she's a bit conflicted about it all. Other than that, though, she seems very happy being a mother, as Alistair is with being a father. He's been ecstatic about the whole thing, especially about having a girl. Said something about winning their bet, I don't know. And Rylee's perfect, of course. Has the Trichlor red hair and everything. She smiled at me yesterday," he said proudly.

Brianna grinned broadly. Mardin's gushing over his new niece in his last letter had been rather adorable, as was his proud uncle tone now. "So, I take it you're glad you were there to see her born, then?"

"Very much so," he said sincerely. "Thank you for convincing me to go. It's been fantastic, getting to spend time with her and Ayla and everybody. But are you sure you don't need me back there yet?"

Was that hope in his voice, or was it her own wishful thinking? She didn't think she really needed him back yet, but Maker, did she want him to come back. And she had felt uneasy the last couple of days; there had been a prickling awareness in the air, sort of like the unnatural calm before a storm, that had made her wish Mardin was there with his instincts to tell her if there was something to be worried about or not. Maybe it was nothing, but maybe it wasn't. Perhaps it was time to ask him to come back, just in case something was about to happen. After all, he wouldn't have been sent here for no reason, as he'd said before.

"I don't want to take you away from your family if you're not ready to come back yet," she said honestly, "but, well . . ."

"Well, what?" he pressed when she didn't immediately go on.

"It's probably nothing," she went on at last, "but Varric has heard some rumours that someone might be planning to 'do something' about the Qunari soon. I mean, there have been lots of rumours like that, which never amounted to anything before, but I have had an uneasy feeling the last couple of days. I don't have your instincts, though, so it might not mean anything."

"But it could mean something," he countered. "And honestly, I've felt a bit uneasy the past few days, too. I'll go tomorrow, book passage on the next ship back to Kirkwall. No," he overrode her when she began to protest, not really wanting him to drop everything to come rushing back, "it's not like I can stay here forever. I'll miss Ayla and Rylee and probably even some of the Wardens, but it was only ever meant to be a visit – and they can always come to Kirkwall, too. It's time to come back, I think. Besides, I miss all of you. Especially you," his voice dropped to a low purr.

"Do you now?" she said lightly, teasingly. Her heart had skipped a beat or two at his words; even knowing that he hadn't meant them in a sentimental fashion, she hadn't been able to help the reaction. She knew she had to keep things light, though, as Ayla had advised, so she went on slyly, "And what do you miss most about me?"

"Oh, Goddess, where do I start?" he muttered. She could hear sounds of him shifting on the other end, as if he was getting more comfortable, before he added, "Are you alone?"

"Yes, why?" she answered, though her heart was starting to race a little, as she had her suspicions. She had missed him in her bed, feeling more restless the longer he'd been gone, which was surprising. She'd gone without a lover for years before he came along; she didn't quite understand why she felt more wound up now, after only a few months, than she ever had before, even if the sex had been better - and more frequent - than before. Still, she wasn't about to protest if he wanted to say some of the things he'd said in his letters through this crystal, instead.

"Because I'm about to tell you in detail exactly what I miss about you," he said lowly, "and exactly what I'd do to you if I was really there in the room with you."

"Oh, well, good," she said a little breathlessly, her blood already starting to heat at the sound of his voice. It was far more effective to hear him say those words than to simply read them on a page – though she hadn't been completely unaffected by the reading of the words either. "I was just thinking I had quite missed having you in my bed."

He groaned. "Are you in a bed right now?"

"I'm in yours, actually," she admitted. "In your room here in Kirkwall. I wanted somewhere more private than Gamlen's to be talking into a crystal, and the estate isn't ready yet."

"Oh, Goddess, you're in my bed?" he growled. "What I wouldn't give to be there right now, with you naked under me. Are you naked?"

"No, but . . . I can be, if you want." She could feel herself flushing, even as her body was starting to heat and ache from his words. How could he be arousing her so without even touching her? She didn't know, but she wasn't about to complain about it.

"Yes." She could hear rustling sounds, like he was pulling off his own clothes. "Yes, I want you naked and willing and wanting." His voice was husky with desire, which never failed to send shivers down her spine. "I'm naked for you," he added softly.

Oh, Maker. She suddenly really, really wished he was in the room with her, his bare skin against hers, his warm body pressed to hers as he moved deeply in her. Of course, he couldn't actually be here, but this was the next best thing. So she quickly stripped off her robes, breeches, breastband, and smallclothes, and settled back on the bed. "I'm naked now. So what would you do if you were here?" she challenged him softly.

"First, I would kiss you until we were both breathless, while I touch you everywhere. I miss the taste of your mouth, and the feel of your soft, silky skin under my hands, pressed to my body." He let out a shuddering breath. "And the smell of you . . . Goddess, it's so intoxicating, better than any other smell."

She couldn't stop herself from moaning. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his hands on her body, the slight roughness of them just enough to create a pleasant friction as they moved over her skin. "I'd . . . touch you everywhere, too. I miss the feel of you, so firm under my hands, so warm and hard against me . . . did I ever tell you that I like your ass, too?"

"No," he moaned out, and she wondered if he was stroking himself and imagining it was her. She hoped he was.

"Well, I do," she admitted softly, flushing. "It's amazing, and I'd squeeze it with both hands." She'd done it before, but somehow it was harder for her to say the words out loud than to actually do it.

"Brianna . . ." He breathed. "I'd grab your hands and pin them so you couldn't distract me anymore, and then I'd suckle those lovely breasts of yours until you were arching against me. Touch them," he ordered her softly. "Pretend it's me."

She had never really played with herself before, always being far too ashamed to try it, or worried she'd be caught at it, but she was throbbing and aching so badly for him that she obediently cupped her breasts in her own hands, rubbing her thumbs lightly over her nipples until they became firm. After all, since she'd met him, she'd done a lot of things she never had before, and found that she enjoyed all of them. So she closed her eyes, trying to pretend his mouth was on her, and though it wasn't quite the same, with the rumble of his voice present, she could still feel heat and pleasure coursing through her body. "What . . . would you do next?"

"I'd kiss my way down your body, nibbling on you all the way down . . . until I could taste the honey and wine of your arousal again," his breath hitched a little, "and then I'd . . . suckle that nub of yours until you called my name, and slide my fingers in you. You'd be so wet and tight . . ."

As he'd been talking, she'd slid one hand down her body, parting her legs, and now she slid two fingers inside herself, unsurprised that she was wet already from his words. She pressed a thumb to her nub, circling it in the way he usually did, while she moved her fingers in herself, feeling the pleasure build in her body as she closed her eyes, letting his voice wash over her. "Mardin . . ." she gasped as her hips began to buck; it felt like it had been so long since she found her release that her body was ready and eager for it, straining towards its peak more quickly than usual.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice hoarse. "My name. Say it again."

"Mardin," she moaned out, moving her fingers faster, feeling her body wind tighter, the sounds of him gasping and moaning through the crystal only driving her higher. "Mardin, would you take me then? Thrust deep inside me, move in me as I squeezed you tight?"

"Oh, Goddess, yes," he growled. "I'd thrust deep in you, over and over again, until you screamed for me . . ."

The pleasure burst over her then, her body arching up off the bed as she cried out, "Mardin!" She could hear him shout her name at the same time, followed by his panting breaths, even as she collapsed back to the bed, trying to catch her own breath.

When she finally could breathe easier, she said ruefully, "That's probably not what these crystals are supposed to be used for."

Mardin chuckled softly. "No, I don't think so. But though it is a poor substitute for the real thing, I don't regret it. Do you?"

"No, I don't," she said, a little surprised that she wasn't more embarrassed about what she'd just done. But she had needed that, even if, as he said, it was a poor substitute. "I still miss you in my bed, though."

"Do you mean my bed?" he teased her.

She laughed. "Your bed, my bed, whichever. I'll have a new bed soon for us to break in."

"Then I am definitely taking the next ship back to Kirkwall tomorrow," he said fervently. "Wouldn't want to miss your first night in your new bed, after all."

"Good." She smiled, feeling relaxed and content at the moment. "I look forward to it."

They spent a few more hours talking about what they'd been doing over the past month since their last letter, their voices gradually getting more sleepy, until they finally wished each other a good night, and Brianna fell asleep, still wearing the crystal.

In spite of the odd feeling she'd had, it was nearly two weeks later before anything actually happened. Brianna had just gotten up, shortly after dawn, when a messenger arrived telling her the Viscount wanted to see her. The messenger could not tell her why, however, and Brianna frowned. So far as she knew, all the details of reclaiming the estate had been hashed out. And while the Viscount had requested her help with an odd job here and there, it had always been in the form of a letter. She'd only been in his office twice since recovering Saemus, and that had been about the estate both times. What could he possibly want now?

There was, of course, only one way to find out, so once she'd eaten her breakfast, she headed for Hightown, keeping her staff with her just in case, and with the sender's crystal around her neck. She'd been wearing it daily, in case something happened that she needed to inform Mardin of, or in case he tried to contact her. They'd talked nearly daily since she'd gotten the crystal, sometimes only briefly, and they had never repeated their interlude of before, since Mardin had gotten on board a ship the next day, and he didn't have a cabin to himself. As he'd informed her, even he wasn't that much of an exhibitionist, and so they'd simply have to wait until they could be alone for real.

Which was fine, she'd told herself. She'd been waiting three months already; she could wait a couple more weeks. He should be here soon, within the next few days, depending on the winds and weather, which was particularly fine and sunny in Kirkwall today. She only hoped that if Viscount Dumar was summoning her about a job, it wasn't something truly dangerous, as she'd prefer to have as much help as possible if it was.

It didn't take her long to reach the Keep, and she headed directly to the Viscount's office. She'd just reached the outer room when she heard Seneschal Bran's voice from within the office. "The compound was not meant to be permanent. There are concerns the Qunari influence is . . . no longer contained."

Shit. Brianna sighed, fervently hoping this wasn't about the Qunari. She was not nearly ready to deal with that can of worms, and really, would prefer to never have to deal with them at all. Still, if Mardin was right, the Qunari might have something to do with this mysterious destiny of hers, so she headed into the office, as the door was open.

The Viscount was replying to Bran as she entered, "Was it ever? Kirkwall has tension enough between Templar and mage, but these Qunari . . ." He shook his head. "They sit like gargoyles, waiting for Maker-knows-what, and everyone goes mad around them. Nearly two years I have stood between fanatics. And now, this." He gestured to a piece of parchment laid out on his desk.

Brianna stopped in front of his desk. "And what exactly is this? Does it have to do with why you summoned me?"

She watched as Dumar waved to Bran in dismissal. "Leave us."

Brianna gave a cheeky grin to Bran as he walked past her with a scowl on his face. In spite of the Viscount granting her the Amell estate, the Seneschal had never taken a liking to her, and she suspected he still viewed her as no better than a mercenary. Not that she cared; she had no use for snobs.

As soon as Bran had left the room, closing the door with a bit of a slam behind him, Viscount Dumar sighed, leaning against his desk. "Meredith at my throat, Orsino at my heels, and a city scared of heretical giants. Balance has held because the Qunari ask for nothing. Even the space in Lowtown was a 'gift' to contain them. But now the Arishok has requested you. By name. What did you do?"

Brianna stared at him in surprise. The Arishok had asked for her by name? Why in the Maker's name would he do that? She shrugged when she realized Dumar was still waiting for an answer. "Honestly, I don't think I did much of anything, really. We met only the once, and I tried my best to be honest and courteous, I suppose. Maybe that was enough to impress him? I have no idea."

The Viscount shook his head. "It makes no sense. And it doesn't matter. I just need them quiet. I remember how you helped my son. It seems you are meant to have influence above your station." Brianna tried not to roll her eyes at that. Hadn't he just elevated her station, anyway? "Speak to the Arishok," Dumar went on, seemingly unaware of the veiled insult. "Give him what he needs to keep the peace. Can you do that for Kirkwall, Serah Hawke?"

"I'll do my best," Brianna replied, "but wouldn't it be better to send them away, if they're such a bother?"

The Viscount shrugged helplessly. "They will not leave, and we don't have the resources to force the issue. At least, not in a way that would leave the city intact. If they had come to conquer, I suspect they would have done so."

"That's true," Brianna admitted. "They do usually arrive as conquerors. It's odd that this has gone on so long."

Dumar nodded. "Very, and I have no interest in antagonizing them. That is partially why I suffer being a messenger today. A treaty exists and it has been honoured. Although . . ." He lifted a shoulder.

"You have doubts," Brianna supplied, and he nodded again.

"They claim they are waiting for a second ship, but it has been quite long enough for one to have arrived. They want something else."

What could they possibly want, though, Brianna wondered, that they hadn't been able to find in all the time they'd been here? The Viscount didn't seem to have any idea, either, but she asked anyway. "Any idea what I can expect?"

Dumar shook his head, looking equally puzzled. "None. Honestly, I don't think I've heard two direct words from the Arishok. Other than his rather deliberate phrasing of 'begone.' If you think his asking me to notify you of this is strange, well, you would be right."

"Well," Brianna said at last, "if this will help the citizens of Kirkwall, I'll do what I can." No point in her antagonizing the Viscount, either, since he'd so recently granted her the Amell estate and title. And the more she endeared herself to him, the less likely it would be that the Templars would look too closely at her.

Dumar smiled gratefully at her. "That is an attitude this city has lacked for a long time. Appease the Arishok. Take his demand and let him return to dormancy. As awkward as this has been, it is better than the alternative." He sighed, shaking his head as he sank down in his chair. "Stepping down is looking more and more appealing."

Privately, Brianna thought he probably should step down, since he seemed all too willing to bury his head in the sand and ignore problems rather than actually do something about them. But since she had no idea who should be Viscount in his stead, it was probably best that they kept with the status quo for now. "I'll let you know what I find out," she told him as she headed for the door, and he nodded, waving his hand at her in dismissal.

Deciding that she wanted a bit of moral support before she went to talk to the Arishok (and also just in case something happened) she went first to find Fenris, as he knew more about the Qunari than anyone else. He agreed to come along willingly enough, and they went to the Hanged Man next. Varric was there, and as always, he agreed to accompany her, but Isabela, who was also there, refused as soon Brianna had explained what she was about to do.

"Sorry, Hawke, but I just remembered I have something else to take care of this morning," Isabela said hastily, setting her drink down on the bar. "But you know, if you need me later in the day for something else, maybe I can help then. See you!"

And with that, she tossed money down on the bar and fled the tavern. "That was odd," Brianna commented mildly, watching the door swing shut behind Isabela.

"When is she ever normal?" Fenris remarked, though he looked a bit curious, as well.

Varric snorted. "Broody's got a point. Anyway, we probably shouldn't keep the Arishok waiting."

Brianna sighed. "Probably not. Well, the three of us is likely enough to go talk to him, anyway. If we find we need more help later, we can always stop in the Alienage and see if Merrill's free."

The others nodded, and soon enough, they were at the Qunari compound. The guard let them in, and they entered, slowly climbing the stairs up to the next level. The compound was precisely the same as the last time, right down to the tension and all the Qunari staring at them. The only difference was that the Arishok was already seated in his throne-like chair atop another flight of stairs, elbows on his knees, waiting for them. Brianna and the others stopped at the bottom of the second flight of stairs.

"Serah Hawke," the Arishok said coolly in his precise tones, only slightly lifting his head to look down at her.

In spite of the fact that she felt more than a little nervous, Brianna faced him squarely, Fenris and Varric on either side of her, shoulders straight, keeping her expression as calm as possible and her tone even as she replied, "Messere?"

"Last we met, I did not know your name. Did not care to," the Arishok said, still in those measured tones. "You have changed your fortune over the last several months. The Qunari have not. I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok. You will want to hunt him."

Brianna raised her eyebrows, surprised, as she glanced around at all the huge Qunari guards littered around the compound, armed to the teeth. Who would be both skilled and suicidal enough to steal something from the Qunari? "That's quite the feat," she said at last. "Someone actually managed to steal your explosives?"

The Arishok gave her what could only be termed as a scornful look. "It was allowed. The stolen formula was a decoy. Saar-qamek – a poison gas, not explosives. A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind. But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it . . ." He lifted one shoulder slightly.

"That merchant . . . Javaris?" Brianna asked, remembering that weaselly little dwarf who'd hired her to defeat the Tal-Vashoth, hoping it would get him the formula for gaatlok in exchange. She had no doubt he'd intended to make as much of it as possible if he'd gotten it, in hopes of getting rich off it. Would he really have tried again, though?

The Arishok spread his hands out. "Would he be cautious, or would he assume success and make enough to threaten a district? A courtesy, Hawke. You will want to hunt him."

It was the second time he'd said that, as though she should be grateful for the opportunity to stop Javaris from making the gas – if it was even him. She frowned. "Just how dangerous is this fake mixture?"

"It is not a threat to Qunari," the Arishok replied. "For your kind, it is as dangerous as those who breathe it."

Right, because that definitely clears things up. "Can you elaborate?" she asked carefully, hoping to get a little more information, in case it was too late to stop Javaris. At least then, she'd know what she was walking into.

"The gas kills, but first it turns allies against their own in blind rage," the Arishok explained, sounding as though he was merely discussing the finer points of wine. "So, the greater the skill of those sent against us, the more dangerous they become to their own people."

Great. Brianna could only hope, after hearing that description, that none of it got made before she found the culprit. First, though, there was one other thing she wanted to know. "I barely spoke to you before. Why give me this warning?"

"You are capable, but I have yet to decide if you are capable of understanding," the Arishok said, as though that was actually an answer. "Save your streets from this fool dwarf, then we will talk."

Brianna turned to Varric, hoping he had some sort of answer for her, as he usually did. "Any idea where we can find Javaris?"

"I heard about a sell-off. Merchant territories and such. They don't do that unless someone left in a hurry," Varric answered. "I'd have figured he rooked some noble. He's sure not a burglar."

"Do you have any idea where he is?" Brianna asked hopefully. The sooner they found Javaris, the sooner they could prevent this gas from being made at all.

Varric shrugged. "I haven't kept up on the squirt. Ask the Coterie."

Brianna turned briefly back to the Arishok. He seemed to appreciate courtesy, and pissing him off was not on her list of things to do today. "Thank you for the warning. We'll hunt him down right away."

"Panahedan, Hawke. It will be interesting to see if you die," was the reassuring reply she got. Fabulous.

Brianna turned and left the compound, the other two following behind, making sure she didn't appear to be in a hurry, knowing the Arishok would probably view that as weakness. It was only when they were well out of earshot of the Qunari, on their way to Darktown, that she muttered, "That was bloody reassuring. 'It will be interesting to see if you die?!'"

"I believe he is viewing it as a test of your skill," Fenris offered.

"A test I'd better not fail then," Brianna said with a sigh. She was right; she definitely wasn't interested in handling the Qunari, but it wasn't like she had a choice, since it seemed the Arishok would only talk to her – and only if she lived through this.

She told Varric to lead them to the Coterie so they could find out about Javaris, and she and Fenris followed him down to Darktown. As she went, Brianna found herself torn between wishing Mardin was here, since he could probably track Javaris faster than any of them, and being grateful that he wasn't. If that poison gas did get made, Mardin would be likely to be a greater threat than anyone else if he succumbed to it. She glanced down briefly at the crystal, but it was silent, and she decided it was probably for the best if he didn't land until this was over. And there was no point in worrying him with what was going on when he couldn't do anything about it until he got here, so she didn't pick up the crystal to let him know, either.

It didn't take Varric long to find a woman in leather armor in the corner of Darktown, next to a table piled high with goods, who was shouting to passersby about the assets of Javaris Tintop. And, fortunately, the woman seemed to be no fonder of Javaris than Brianna was, for she willingly gave them the information that he was likely to be at Smuggler's Cut, which apparently emptied out at a cave outside Kirkwall. Varric, of course, knew where the entrance was, but before Brianna could decide whether to head there or track down Merrill or Anders to help first, Isabela came trotting up, face flushed, looking a little breathless.

"Isabela?" Brianna asked in surprise as the pirate stopped in front of them. "What are you doing down here?"

"Oh, that business of mine, you know," Isabela flapped her hand carelessly. "Heard there was someone down here who might know about the relic, but it was a dead end, as usual. Do you still need help?"

"Actually, yes." Brianna explained what they'd discovered from the Arishok, and how they were about to track Javaris down to determine if he was really the one that stole from them.

Isabela's brows lifted. "There's no way this Javaris stole from the Qunari. That's hard. I've heard," she added quickly, making Brianna frown a little at the fervent way she'd said it. Before she could press further, however, Isabela went on, "But you'll definitely need help if you're heading to Smuggler's Cut. It's usually full of Carta and cutthroats. I'll come with. I still owe you, after all."

"All right," Brianna agreed with a shrug. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and if Isabela was coming to help, she wouldn't have to waste valuable time looking for Anders or Merrill instead. The four of them should be enough to deal with a few Carta dwarves and Javaris. "Let's go then. Varric, lead the way."

"Sure thing, Hawke."

"Shit," Varric panted, leaning against the stone wall to catch his breath after what had been a very close and exhausting fight against a large amount of Carta dwarves. "That was close."

"It was," Brianna muttered as she healed a wound Isabela had picked up. Had it not been for the combined talents of her friends and her own magic, she didn't think they would have survived this last fight against well over a dozen armed and dangerous dwarves. Fortunately, Varric had assured her that they were nearly to the end of the Cut, for this was not the only fight they'd encountered like that. Some of the other fights appeared to have been against mercenaries, as well, comprised of human, elven, and dwarven fighters, but this last fight had been the worst. They'd somehow managed to get through it with only minimal injuries, but Brianna didn't much want a repeat of that fight ever again.

"When did you say Red was getting back, anyway?" Varric went on, checking Bianca over for any damage. "We sure could've used his help."

"His skills are sorely missed," Fenris agreed, one hand placed over the other bleeding arm. Having finished with Isabela, Brianna moved to him next, beginning another healing spell. Fenris, she knew, had taken the brunt of the fight, as the only true front-line fighter she had among her friends right now, since she didn't like to bother Aveline. Isabela, while devastatingly effective, preferred to have the element of surprise on her side, either attacking from behind or the shadows, and neither Brianna nor Varric were skilled at close combat, which left Fenris alone to face their enemies head-on. Besides that, he and Mardin had become a very effective fighting pair, after endless hours of training and combat together on the various jobs since Mardin had joined them. Had he been here, she didn't doubt that he and Fenris together could have cleaned out the dwarves quite a bit faster, which would have been better for all of them. It was obvious she wasn't the only one who missed having him around.

"He should be here in the next couple of days," she answered as she finished up the healing spell, which she was fortunately getting a lot more skilled at under Anders' tutelage. "As soon as the next ship from Ferelden arrives."

"Good," Varric said sincerely. "I miss having that big lug between me and sharp, pointy objects."

Brianna laughed, shaking her head at the dwarf, while Isabela muttered, "I wish I was on a ship right now. The wind, the waves, the glistening sailors . . . mmm. What?" she added when everybody stared at her. "I miss my ship."

"Yes, I'm certain that was the only thing you were referring to," Fenris said dryly.

Isabela gave him a wicked grin, looking him up and down. "You're right, I miss glistening bodies working under me too. Do you want to volunteer?"

"Of course not," Fenris retorted, though Brianna noticed with a smile that he looked a little flustered, his cheeks growing pink.

"As much as I love to watch Broody blush," Varric said with a smirk, "we should probably keep going and find that idiot before he starts making poison gas."

"You're right," Brianna agreed, turning to head towards the opposite end of the cave they were currently in, ignoring the mutters of "I was not blushing" and "Everybody wants to spoil my fun" behind her as she went.

It was only a few more moments after that (fortunately free of attacks) before they emerged from the tunnel into the nearly blinding light of the noon sun, streaming down onto the sandy beach before them. It appeared they'd come out on the Wounded Coast, and Brianna only had a moment to see someone who looked like Javaris further down the beach before they were set upon by more mercenaries. Luckily, there were only eight of them this time, and they went down much easier than the last batch of Carta dwarves had, leaving Brianna free to march down the beach toward Javaris, who was now cowering against a rocky hill, apparently expecting magic or a stray bolt to hit him at any moment.

"Calm yourself, Javaris," she said dryly as they stopped in front of the blonde dwarf. "You're not dead yet."

Javaris took his hands down from their position covering his head, finally straightening and looking up at them, only to scowl immediately. "You? Granny's garters, she would hire you. I can't buy a break on discount! You know what? Go ahead." He threw his hands up in the air in complete exasperation. "Take my head and pike it back to that sodding elf! I need the rest."

Brianna stared at the dwarf, wondering if he'd lost his mind since she'd last seen him. Why was he talking about a she? And an elf? "Elf? What in the Maker's name are you talking about? I haven't spoken to any elves about you."

"You don't know? Then, what, you're tracking for the Qunari?" Javaris demanded. Brianna shrugged and nodded in response, and the dwarf went on immediately, "Then she did it, that elf got them after me for nothing! Bitch-born!"

Isabela snorted from behind Brianna. "It certainly wasn't hard to frame you."

"Look, I'm minding my business, same old," Javaris told Brianna, apparently choosing to ignore the pirate, "and out of the blue some elf tries to kill me. Says she's got the Qunari powder and I'm her cover. I slipped her, hired some bodyguards, and ran for it. And now you're here. Great."

Brianna frowned, wondering if he was telling the truth. Why would an elf steal from the Qunari and frame Javaris? "So where exactly is this elf? All I see right now is you."

"Leaving the other person behind is the first step in running away," Javaris retorted scornfully. "Sorry if that's inconvenient. Here, you want to drag dark into light, I had a man follow her. The elf's in Lowtown." He handed over a piece of parchment, which Brianna took, looking down at the hastily scribbled message and crudely drawn map pointing to an alley in Lowtown as Javaris continued, "I just want to get out. With my dead guards. Thanks for that."

Brianna nodded after a moment. She couldn't see any signs that Javaris was lying, and the possibility that this elf was already making the gas was too great a risk to ignore, especially if it was being done so right in the middle of Lowtown. "Better luck wherever you're bound, Javaris. The farther the better," she added significantly. She might believe Javaris about this, but that didn't mean he wouldn't cause some other kind of trouble in the future, and if she was to make Kirkwall her home now, she didn't want to have to deal with it.

"Right. Got me a rosy future to plan out," Javaris muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he turned away from them. "Think I'll start by selling some boots." He moved over to the nearest mercenary body and began looting through it, muttering to himself.

"We'd better get back to Lowtown," Brianna told the others. "Quickly." They all nodded, and turned back to the tunnel, moving at a near run.

It didn't take long to find the alley where the map led, unfortunately, as there were sounds of screaming and shouting and clashing battle coming from it. One of Aveline's guards, a dark-skinned, bald man in the traditional guard armor, stood in the street that led to the alley, blocking the way and shouting at people to stay away. As Brianna and the others walked up to him, he cried, "All of you, I can't fight the damned air! You want to live, stay out!"

"Is there something I can do?" Brianna asked, stopping a few feet in front of him.

The guard did a double-take when he looked at her; like most of Aveline's guards, he'd met her before. "Wait. Messere Hawke? Maker, please, the street is death." He shook his head frantically. "There was a cloud that drove people mad, and now a seeping mist that kills. All I can do is warn people. If someone like you dies on my watch, I'm right stuffed."

It was worse than she'd thought, but despite the risk, Brianna knew she had to do something. This gas had to be stopped now, before more of the citizens of Lowtown succumbed to it. It was likely too many innocent people had died already. So after a quick glance at the others, who nodded in agreement, she walked past the guard, patting him on the shoulder as she said, "Easy. Keep your post and keep everyone else out. This is my risk."

"But . . ." the guard began helplessly, but Brianna ignored him and kept walking toward the break in the stone buildings that led to the alley. She could already see a green-tinged mist creeping along the ground towards them.

There was nothing else that she could do but head forward, however, and try to stop the poison, so she turned the corner of the building, walking into the alley, which led to a sort of square courtyard in the midst of several buildings. The green mist hung strongly throughout the whole area, creeping along the ground, and with the first breath Brianna took, it seemed to sting her lungs, forcing a cough from her as she put an arm up to try to cover her nose and mouth.

"Very strong," Isabela managed around a cough. "We need to find the source."

They made their way through the gas, all trying to keep from inhaling it as much as possible, Isabela wrapping the handkerchief she normally kept over her hair around her face instead, and eventually Varric spotted an unusual barrel with an open lid that was steadily spewing gas. "We need to find a way to close them!" Brianna called, trying to keep her arm up and hoping that she was only imagining that her brain was starting to feel fuzzy.

They were attacked by a crazed group of people almost immediately after they began searching, however, and had to do their best to knock them out without killing them. Brianna cast a sleep spell on some of them, dropping them where they stood, and it was Isabela that found an odd metal latch after one of the people dropped it. Varric took it, scrambling over to the barrel, and used it to get the lid shut again, cutting off the source of the gas.

"There must be more barrels," Fenris said grimly, looking around the rest of the courtyard, where the green gas was still just as thick, though it had already begun to dissipate where they stood. "We need to find them."

They split up and began to search the courtyard, and did indeed locate three more open barrels, though they weren't as lucky in the matter of the latches, and had to cut through continual attacks by crazed Kirkwall citizens and possibly some mercenaries, by the look of it, while they looked for more latches. And the more time went on, the more Brianna felt like she was struggling for a breath, like there was a weight on her chest, and her head was spinning and fuzzy, and why was she so mad? She couldn't seem to control the feeling; it just kept rising up in her chest, stifling her, and she whacked an oncoming citizen in the face with her staff, hard, bringing him down to the ground.

She moved on, ignoring the person lying on the ground and the distant shout of her name. They'd found two of the latches and closed two of the barrels; they only needed to find one more, and who cared about these annoying people, anyway?

And then suddenly Isabela and Varric were there in front of her, shouting something. Had she knocked more people out of the way? She didn't know, and she didn't much care. Everybody was so infuriating, why wouldn't they just go away?! She finally lost the struggle with the red-hot rage pulsing through her body, and raised her staff, a spell coming to her lips as redness completely misted her vision and fogged her brain.