a/n- Well, I'm finally back from Africa and have the time to devote to this fanfic again. I had wanted to finish all of Redcliffe in this chapter, but Alexius is annoyingly difficult for me to write, so I chose to cut it a bit short and post instead. We will see the end of Redcliffe in the next chapter. As usual, read and review if you feel inclined, maybe even if you don't. I've miss you beautiful readers and I want to hear from you.

Dareth shiral,

Tabitha

Convenient Coincidence

There was something very wrong with the rift they encountered, and it was not just Enya who detected it. Circles of rift energy distorted their movements, slowing them down or speeding them up. When the fear demons, with their long fingered hands and skeletal green bodies attacked them, it was hard not to notice how their movements changed inside these glowing fields of yellow/green. When they had finally dispatched them, Enya thrust her hand forward toward the opening in the Veil, half terrified this new rift variant wouldn't close with her power. But it yielded, if a little more difficultly that the others. She felt the familiar relief of closing it wash up her arm.

They were given admittance through the upper gate of Redcliffe, the only other entrance to the town would have been by boat across Lake Calenhad. They soon learned, however, that their presence was far from expected. Not even Fiona, who had invited them to come to Redcliffe herself knew of their impending arrival. Enya began to dread that Cullen's caution about the mages may have been well founded, although she was still loath to trust the Templars any more.

Redcliffe village was buried behind the cliffs that gave it its name. The rocks were not red but as they rode over the hill and she questioned this Solas explained that there had once been a great battle between two of the Alamarri tribes that bathed the cliffs in blood. She grew silent as he spoke of the battle and wondered whether or not he had learned this tale from a spirit, or simply from the people of Redcliffe years past. The sod roofs of houses emerged from under the trees and beneath them the town broke from the hills in a sharp cascade of terraced levels.

They passed what must once have been a great windmill. Enya gazed up at the far wall reaching toward the sky, stretching to be taller than the tops of the mountains on which it sat. One side stood resolute, while the other lay in ruin around the grass and inside. Beyond the town, across the glassy depths of the lake and up the steep slopes of stone on the far side sat the Castle of Redcliffe. Enya's breath caught in her throat as she watched the fortress emerge from the haze. She had never seen a castle before. Clan Lavellan's travels had never taken her far enough out of the wilderness to see anything quite so grand. Even Wycome, with its town center and regimented market had only a town hall and Chantry built of stone. The rest of the town, even its wall, was made of wood or plaster or sod.

She did her best not to show her naivety, but spotted a knowing gleam in Solas' eye as he drew level with her on his horse. Enya turned away from him and then picked up a trot down the long, steep slope into the town marketplace, looking for the tavern in which they had been told they could find the Grand Enchanter. The Gull and Lantern was tucked into the hillside on and embankments held together by stone walls. The large two story building seemed oddly quiet for a tavern in the evening and though there were people about, they hurried on their way. Enya dismounted her horse and tied her to a tied her to the hitching line with a gentle pat.

The tavern on the inside was only slightly busier than it had appeared from the outside. Someone played music, a song about a nightingale that Enya felt certain might be about about the Inquisition's spymaster. A bard that bards sang about in songs, she wasn't sure if Leliana would be proud.

"Something isn't right," she commented, voice low, as Cassandra entered behind her.

The seeker's cast around the room and in tones similarly quiet she replied, "I agree. We should be cautious."

Enya blinked in agreement and stepped around the corner into the main section of the tavern. The barkeep watched them through narrowed eyes as they went and Enya tried not to concern herself with the extent of his suspicion.

The mage they sought rose form a table in the corner and stepped forward to greet them.

"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition."

The Grand Enchanter's eyes bore hesitant discomfort in their pale golden depths. The lines of Fiona's face were more drawn than Enya remembered from when they met in Val Royeux, a fact which had seemed superfluous at the time but now struck a note of anxiety in her. Should it not be the other way?

"I cannot say that your presence is entirely a surprise," Fiona ran her hands together before her, "but I must ask: Why have you come here?"

Enya exchanged a sharp glance with her companions. They had been present when the Grand Enchanter had invited them to speak with the rebel mages. She saw a flicker of fear in Cassandra's dark eyes.

"What do you mean?" Enya tilted her head as she stepped forward, hands clenched, "You asked us here when we met in Val Royeux."

It was Fiona's turn to be shocked and she showed it. Her large eyes opened wide at these words.

"You must be mistaken. I have not been to Val Royeux since long before the rebellion," her Orlesian accent grew thicker in her surprise.

"Well, she certainly looked exactly like you," Varric argued.

"Exactly…like me?"

Her tone had changed. Not only was she caught off guard, but Enya sensed fear, the kind that came from knowledge you wished to forget. It was a contagious feeling that seeped into her company as well. Enya heard them shift anxiously behind her. Even the unflappable Varric placed a hand on his neck. To a person less experienced in his behavior it would seem as though he scratched or crack his neck, but to her, she realized a simple twitch of his hand would retrieve his crossbow from his back. They had been play, though it seemed Fiona had been made the fool as well.

"That is…" Fiona wrung her hand and repositioned her weight, "The situation has changed. If you came to negotiate with the mages of Redcliffe, we no longer have the authority to appease you."

Solas' voice bore an aggressive tone most uncharacteristic to his nature as he asked, "What do you mean, you haven't the authority?"

Enya's gaze snapped to him. There was something fiery in his eyes, a burning frustration that she sensed would never yield.

"We had little support from the villagers nor did they care for our presence in Redcliffe," Fiona defended. "We had a choice between their hostility or an alliance with a Tevinter Magister.

Cassandra's hand fell to her sword, her voice heavy with disdain, "You've allied with the Imperium. Do you desire all of Thedas' dislike?"

"Andraste's ass," Varric threw his hands in the air, "You give a mage a bad situation and what do they do? Make it even worse!"

Hope was a small gem that had rested in her chest from the moment she had heard Fiona's invitation in Val Royeux. The hope that they had managed to make an impact on the leader of this rebellion, that perhaps their words did not fall on ears made deaf by prejudice. But it was naught but a trick, a game played on them by an enemy yet unknown, and she felt the gem shatter like glass at the mention of Tevinter.

"Fear can be powerful motivation, but you can hardly counter it by consigning yourself to a lifetime of slavery in Tevinter."

Solas' eyes were filled with a storm of irritation as he stepped forward toward the Grand Enchanter. Enya recognized it as the anger of a Harren dealing with a pupil whom had stepped out of line one to many times.

"As I said, we had little choice." Fiona defended through her calm façade, "Magister Alexius offered us indenture and protection."

"Indenture?" It was Enya's turn for anger. "You've pledged yourself, all of you, to a Tevinter Magister? You left the Circles to escape the Chantry's hold on you! Now you swear yourself and your people to the service of a man of the Imperium because he offers you protection?"

"We have not been welcome here in Redcliffe," The Grand Enchanter lifted her chin in prideful justification.

"The Mages have made a brave choice."

The words flowed through the tavern on the cool breeze that filtered through the smoke heated room. Enya and her companions turned to inspect this newcomer. The rest of the tavern, bard included, fell silent at his entrance. The Dalish hunter in Enya noticed the stoop of the barkeep as his sharp, coal eyes bored into the man and his party. His hand, no doubt, grasped the hilt of a dagger. Several of the other occupants sat stock still, as though afraid their movements would somehow cause this new man displeasure.

Her inspection turned instead to the man himself. His skin was sallow and pocked, his jaw accented by grey stubble. He was not particularly tall either, and though she though he might have once been handsome for a human, his now grey hair dark and his eyes full of life. To Enya, he was hardened by his years, and his face bore the unmistakable lines of sadness, worry and regret despite the confident set of his chin.

She had never seen a man of Tevinter before, but the foreignness of his clothes and the bearing with which he carried himself lead her to one simple conclusion, this was the Magister with which the Mages had allied. She could sense his cunning in the calculated squint of his eyes and the smirk that curled his lips as he gazed upon her.

"May I introduce to you, Magister Gereon Alexius of Tevinter."

"Welcome, my friends," Alexius strode toward them, his ornate Tevinter armour gleaming in the low light of the fires, "I apologize for not greeting such a distinguished member of the Inquisition myself. Alas, I only just heard of your arrival."

Enya tracked his gate as he moved past her, following his every movement with suspicion.

"You are the one who survived the Conclave, are you not?" he straightened as his men fanned out around him and around Fiona, "The one they have been calling 'The Herald of Andraste?'"

She echoed his stance, drawing her shoulders back to brush her greatsword's sheath. A small smirk twitched at the corners of his lips as Enya refused to drop his gaze.

"Interesting," the magister paced away from her, a glimmer in his eyes, and finally gestured to Fiona, "No doubt, Fiona has informed you of our alliance."

Cassandra remained at her shoulder, face drawn with distaste and suspicion. She met Enya's searching gaze with a tight brow. Enya glanced back to the magister.

"I suppose, then, that it is you with whom I must negotiate, and not the Rebel Mages," She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at him.

A smiled tugged at his lips, "You would think correctly, Herald," He waved her toward a table and commanded the guards leave them. "I must say," He settled into a chair as though it were as grand an object as a throne, "it is a pleasure to become acquainted with a woman who conducts herself so…intelligently."

Enya forced a smile and joined him at the table. Fiona hesitated from where she stood in the corner. It saddened Enya to see this woman, this great leader of the free mages of Thedas, reduced to nervous hovering.

"Before we come to any decisions, I need to know more about this alliance you have forged. I don't like to make deals when I don't fully know the situation."

She mimicked his position, luxuriating in her chair. Facing him indirectly was better, she remembered that vague from her conversation with Josephine about "The Game." Power was something one controlled and you could attain the upper hand simply by making the other person believe you had it. It wasn't a game Enya liked to play, but it was necessary.

"It seems unusual for the Rebel Mages to suddenly choose to ally with a Tevinter Magister," She faced him directly, her piercing emerald eyes meeting his watery greys, "How did you come to offer them an alliance?"

Alexius' face grew serious for a moment and then returned to jovial repose, "It was by mere accident, perhaps even fate, which I arrived when I did. After the Conclave, the inhabitants of Redcliffe turned on the Southern Mages, attacking them, blaming them for the death of the Divine. If we had not arrived when we had, there very well might be nothing left of Redcliffe, and certainly there would be fewer mages in the South."

"Most fortuitous," Cassandra commented, her voice flat.

Enya nodded in false agreement to Alexius' words, "Indeed. Fate often works in swift and mysterious ways, so I've come to find."

Alexius chuckled, deep in his throat, but his apparent mirth failed to reach his eyes. As his laughter subsided, he gestured to one of the Tevinter mages behind him.

"Felix, could you send for a scribe, please." The magister gestured as the young man stepped forward, "My son, Felix. Forgive me for yet another late introduction."

"A pleasure to meet you, Herald," Felix bowed his head to her as he passed, headed for the door.

Enya watched Felix depart and then turned back, only to catch the pall of concern that had stretched over Alexius' confident features as he tracked his son's retreating form. She shifted again, drawing his attention back to her.

"You still have questions, Herald?"

Enya folded her hands together on the table as she leaned forward, "Fiona indicated that she could not negotiate on the behalf of her own people. Why would the leader of the Mage rebellion be unable to aid us without your approval?"

"It is a simple matter of indentureship, Herald," Alexius waved in Fiona's direction, "For 10 years, the Southern Mages will serve Tevinter."

Her heart pounded against the inside of her ribs. How dare he?! How dare he take advantage of the troubles of these people? The voice that slipped form between her lips as she next spoke was taught with her restraint of temper.

"And what could Tevinter possibly gain from such an alliance?"

"These mages will join our soldiers, our workers, prove themselves productive and worthy citizen of Tevinter and serve without question, Herald," he smiled, "And in turn, they receive our unwavering protection."

Fiona stepped forward, face bathed in outrage, "You swore my people would not be place in the army! We have many who are not fit to fight! The children…"

Alexius cut her off with the cruel blade of his cold voice, "Will learn to be productive citizens of Tevinter. Just as you will. You gave up your chance to control their lives when you entered our servitude. They are yours to control no more."

Enya felt a spark of sympathy fill her as the Grand Enchanter close her mouth, face stricken. Fiona's cheeks flushed with pale fear and the darkness below her eyes grew more hollow. It was the expression of one who realized her good intentions had been twisted to the foul advantage of others. The Grand Enchanter bowed her head in defeat, broken by her mistake and cut by the sharpness of Alexius' words. The Dalish elf stole herself to contain her sympathy as it fought to seep into her eyes; kindness would win her little faith from Alexius.

"Now, Herald, I assume the Inquisition is not trapsing about with someone of your notoriety without reason," Alexius prodded. Despite his general ill-wishing demeanor, Enya found she admired his shrewdness, "Perhaps you should make your request of me and I will give you my answer."

Enya set her hands back in her lap and lifted her chin, "The Breach must be closed."

"And, as I suspected, you wish to utilize my Mages for such a purpose." A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, "There is a chance an agreement could be reached, that is if you would agree to…"

Enya followed his gaze as his sentence died, caged within the bars of his over-white teeth. Felix had again entered the room. Where before he had seemed perfectly healthy, a palour had come across his complexion and he dragged one foot ever so slightly. She rose as he reached her and founder herself burdened by his weight as he stumbled forward. Her steadying hand closed about one of his and she felt a piece of parchment slip into it. Felix rose again, countenance set in and exhibition of faintness so perfect it nearly fooled her. She closed her hand tightly about his note and drew a short breath of surprise when Alexius bid her farewell and demanded Fiona's presence.

The din of the pub rushed in, hushed voices of people who did not wish to be heard, mature roars of those who did or had simply drunk too much to realize their volume. Enya waited a few moments, the silence of her companions louder than any drunkard in the room and then raise the note.

"'Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.'" She read aloud, voice low and glanced up at Cassandra, who stood directly before her.

The Seeker's brow furrowed and she gripped her sword in thought, "We must be careful, Herald. Such a note could be a trap. This is Tevinter."

Varric nodded his agreement, "This whole situation seems too neatly orchestrated for my liking."

Enya raised an eyebrow at him. Varric advising caution seemed like a nug eating meat. Solas remained silent, though Enya rather thought it was his advice she'd have liked to hear at that very moment. She started back at the paper, at the carefully crafted symbols running right to left across the page and crumpled the sheet of parchment.

"Trap or not, we need to know what has happened here." Enya close her hand, "This all seems too…convenient."

A soft, disapproving growl issued from Cassandra's mouth and with her begrudged assent, they departed the Gull and Lantern for the village beyond.