Mahariel grunted, her head dizzy. Her eyes blinked as she considered the ceiling above her, decorated with golden moldings. Hum, still not dead. She coughed and gagged, still feeling the taste of the poison in her mouth.

"Good. You are awake."

She started and her head tilted up to lay her eyes on Solas, on a chair next the bed. Bad move. Her head spun fiercely and she was forced to put it back on the pillow.

"What – Where – Er…" She babbled as her thoughts had a hard time falling back into place. She heard a book being put on a furniture as Solas moved to sit on the edge of the bed, in her vision field.

"You have been poisoned by a Crow in Val Royeaux."

She opened her mouth but shut it right away, memories coming back. Venicio. And he was now dead. A sparkle of sadness jumped in her eyes but she chased it. Instead, she composed her voice.

"I owe you my life. Again. Ma serannas, lethallin."

"I would gladly say you are welcome, but the last time I said so, you apparently understood it was fine to make of it a habit." The irritation in his voice was palpable. Her nose wrinkled. Here came the scolding.

"Yes, it was stupid to go see a Talon of the Crows on my own. I gathered. I had to try."

"Try what? I heard the deal you offered him, remember?" She looked at him, calmly.

"I said once the Breach is closed. 'Tis the only thing that matters." He frowned deeper, having a hard time not yelling.

"You close the Breach, an arrow goes through your heart right away, and you are fine with that? This is your big plan? Are you so eager to give your life away?!" She snapped.

"Why do you care?! I am but a mean to an end. Once the Breach is closed, I'm useless to the Inquisition! Worst, I'm a danger to it!"

"Don't make yourself a martyr!"

"I don't, 'tis why I did not want an audience for this bargain! I won't let anyone else get hurt or worst for my mistakes. I was trying to do the right thing." Her eyes were dark and way too old for her face.

"How is giving your life to the Crows the right thing?!" She paused to find back some composure.

"You don't know what you are talking about."

"Maybe you could enlighten me, then." She looked at him, adamant.

"No."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed. She was insufferable. She swallowed and looked elsewhere. He finally noticed she was fighting against tears. Both his brows raised in surprise and he finally gave some thoughts to her words. No, she was not eager to give her life away. Whatever grudge the Crows had against her, it had been here for a long-time, he was fairly certain of that. The situation had changed when she became Herald. All eyes were now on her and she couldn't avoid them anymore. His features softened. She was trying to do the right thing. To prevent others to be caught in her battle. She knew it will come to it and yet…She stayed. She stayed despite the promise of death it meant for her.

He never fully realized it until now. Not with the way she was acting, taking things lightly as it came. Pretending it was all a game. She actually cared, way more than she was letting see. Varric was right. He did not realize he had grabbed her hand in his. She cleared her throat, her voice firm and neutral.

"Did someone take care of the body?"

"Scouts did after us. They burnt it." Her nose wrinkled.

"Andrastian cremation is better than none."

"He called you Ashalan." She swallowed again, fighting for her voice to remain emotionless.

"Among other things."

She sighed and whispered a prayer he did not quite catch. She cared definitely a lot about someone who tried to kill her. They remained silent a time, both lost in their thoughts before she asked with a soft voice.

"Solas…Where are we?"

"Ghislain Estate. With the poison, we could not reach Haven in time. Master Tethras remembered the invitation of the Grand Enchantress."

The topic turning back to serious, his eyes glanced to his hands holding hers, seriously wondering how or when they ended up there. He dropped her hand with a bit of discomfort. She had a point earlier. Why did he care of what she planned for herself? As long as the Breach was closed, he should not. You care about what become of the Anchor. Yes, that is it. Once the Breach is closed, you may pursue your researches to salvage what power remains in her hand. In any case, she has been an unexpected element until now, and more than once in a pleasing way. Would that be so wrong to want her to remain alive? – You are not supposed to befriend these people, idiot, it will make what comes next harder. Right. He was surprised not to hear a playful comment from her. Its absence discomforted him as much as it warmed him in a way he decided to disregard for his own sake. Her spirit was tired and out of witty words, that was the all of it. She sighed, cutting the dangerous train of thoughts.

"Hell of a first impression." He chuckled.

"I cannot say what Madame de Fer thought of it. She had been warned by the Inquisition's scouts so, her mask was the most perfect when we arrived." He saw a glimpse of alarm in her eyes as her hand reached for her face "Do not worry. I forbid them to remove the war-paint." Her features relaxed.

"Once more, I'm in your debt, lethallin."

She made a movement to straighten. He gently pulled her back on the pillow.

"Don't move. It is already surprising you woke up today. We were not expecting such effect before tomorrow. You need to rest." A sparkle of mischief jumped in her eyes and she smirked.

"You will have to keep me distracted, then." He gave a smirk of his own.

"An answer for an answer?"

"Deal."

She first investigated the how exactly she ended up here. Then, they talked extendedly about his travels in the Fade. He did not mind answering any aside questions, pleased as always by her curiosity on the subject. He was almost sure she was considering to ask him teaching her, even though her pride was in the way of such request. When it came to his turn to ask a question, he found himself hesitating once more. He had a lot, but he knew now any about the Dalish or the Crows will likely sadden her. Instead, he asked.

"Did you enjoy Tevinter?" She gave a lopsided smile.

"How do you know I indeed lived there?" He smirked.

"I suspect you did live in Orlais and Tevinter. Your plays are just too perfect for it to be otherwise."

"Fair enough. To answer, I enjoyed living in the Imperium. However, I would not praise the Tevinter way-of-life. I had a good life only because I am a decent mage. I cannot say I enjoy Tevinter as a whole. I cannot enjoy a country were my kind – where any kind – is enslaved."

"From you, I'm surprised you did not start a rebellion."

"The circumstances of my presence there prevented such deeds." He frowned slightly, thoughtful. What was she in Tevinter? If she had a decent life, not a slave, not a servant…An apprentice? He put suddenly two things together. Was she spying there on behalf of the Qun? He held that thought, considering it was no accusation to spill lightly, even if they had searched the room for any secret alcove and he had felt the magic precaution of a soundproofed bubble around them. Speaking of which.

"Let me do the soundproofing, lethallan, you need rest and a sustainable spell is no such thing." She raised a brow.

"Please, I could sustain a soundproofing bubble when I was eight, I will not bristle under such little effort." Eight? Fenedhis, I was wrong about the why of her peculiar training.

"Why would your Keeper teach you such spell that young? An eight-years-old cannot have such secret to keep."

She actually almost fell for this one and prevent herself from answering in extremis. Damn, he was getting good at that. Instead she crossed her arms, a bit annoyed that he just had to come back to prying while they had a nice talk.

"Subtle, I will grant you that."

"Excuse me?" Asked he earnestly, not understanding her reaction. He then recalled his question and made amend quickly "Ir abelas, lethallan. I spoke up my thought, I did not mean to pry." She judged his features a time before her face relaxed and she dropped her arms.

"Okay." He raised a brow.

"That was unusually easy." She shrugged.

"You are no liar. Secretive, adept of half-truth and omissions, yes, but you do not lie."

"That sounds pretty much like you."

"Who said we couldn't have something in common?" She paused, lost in her thoughts a minute. "La crème de la crème of Orlais." Finished she bitterly. He snorted, just as much bitter.

"An harellan."

"I have been called that too. Despite everything, better an harellan than an Orlesian." He had to laugh at that.

"Considering, I thought you like the Empire."

"The Empire is its own person and its inhabitants merely decorations. One loves the Game as much as he despises its players."

"I'm sure the Spymaster would agree." She laughed lightly.

"Certainly. Orlais held the most perverted of the delights. Outmatching your enemy with the right word in the right ear, seeing him fall by your deeds when you are two cities away, pretending to dance at the music of yet another noble…" She hummed appreciatively "You know you will lose and the Game will go on. But the time when you are leading the dance…Such overwhelming headiness."

"You sound like a bard." Pointed he out with a slight curve on his lips. He had himself experienced and enjoyed the overwhelming headiness she was describing. He understood the feeling she was trying to share. The machinery of the power always remains the same.

"Don't expect me to sing, lethallin. All of that to say, I appreciate the Empire and the Game but call me Orlesian and I will punch you." He chuckled.

"I shall keep that in mind."

They fell into a comfortable silence until Mahariel asked him if he could send her Sera. He had been expected the request, and was more than a bit proud to see he had been able to make her forget so long…Well, now that he thought of it, it had likely never left her mind and she simply did not want to seem too eager.

Sera listened to her words with caution. Easy enough, do not answer any questions about her and how they met.

Mahariel was sixteen when they did, in Denerim. She just left the Clan and ended up in the Alienage with no idea how to live in the shem world. Shianni, the leader of the Alienage, helped her through rough beginnings. Her assassin and hunter skills eventually proved useful for some little jobs she traded for food.

Simply surviving until the Captain of the Guard provoked Shianni's as well as her ire. The bastard attacked and raped a young elven woman. Infuriated, sickened, Mahariel took care of the man with talent, without driving the attention on the Alienage.

It drove, however, the attention of a Crow, Ignacio, on her. The talent of the elf was unquestionable and they needed people like that, out of their own ranks, for some contracts. It is how it all began.

She eventually ran into Sera during a contract. The beginnings between the elves being less than easy. The blond was as old as she was. Despite Mahariel's elfiness, Sera came to appreciate her.

The Dalish shared her gold and food whenever she could within the Alienage. She was helping the people there for free. Except from her few jobs for Red Jenny and her work with the Crows, she worked with Shianni to put together spying units with the elves of the Alienage, training them. They extended the reach of their eyes and ears among the city. They collected pieces of information, selling them to the highest bidder among the humans to improve the life-quality of the Alienage. Mahariel shared the most interesting ones – especially the ones about displacements of forces – with the clans. Her growing network helped both the city elves and the Dalish to avoid troubles efficiently.

Mahariel left Denerim after a year, however, heading for the Empire. The situation in Orlais being far worse than in Ferelden for the People, the clans asked her to pursue her task there. Sera crossed path with her again two years later, as Mahariel had accepted to help the Friends sneaked into an estate. Sera, despite her young age, was already a veteran among Red Jenny.

And it was where Sera's knowledge of the tale stopped. She knew the organization she worked with. Her bet was that the Dalish was one of its lieutenants.

The rumors were well spread, but no one never knew in Ferelden where the truth of this organization's deeds laid, and the faceless leader of said organization was more of an urban legend than anything else.

"So, what do they think exactly?" Mahariel shrugged.

"For the close circle of the Inquisition, the general point is that they are not sure where to place me. They get that I'm not Qunari, few consider the possibility of me being Dalish. For the rest of the world, the general idea is that I'm Tevinter."

"I dunnot get how ya do that, I have a headache only thinkin' how your life got that messy. Why are the birdies after ya? You were thick as thieves last time I knew!" Mahariel shook her head.

"'Tis a story I shall not share." Sera pouted.

"Not funny. Hey, I did not ask before becauz' poison all that, but, why was elfy number two followin' ya?" Mahariel's nose wrinkled.

"Curiosity, I guess. Considering his prying saved me, I thought I could forgive it. What is troubling being not that much why but how. However, why did you follow him?" Sera shrugged.

"Not as discreet as you're. I heard him swore in elfy talk after a failed landin'. First, I was goin' to punch him for wakin' me, then I saw ya were not in the room either." She giggled and moved suggestively her brows "I was hopin' to catch som' juicy things." Her eyes enlightened and she cackled "Ah-ah juicy things, got it?"

Mahariel winced, sincerely wishing she did not "get it".

"Classy as always. Well, here we are, in an Orlesian estate. Wonder of wonder, what did you imagine to piss off these silky breeches?"

It was enough for Sera to drop the subject as she launched herself into a very detailed explanation of what she intended for this Madame de Fer.

She was on her feet the next day. After a bath, she was notified Madame de Fer wanted to meet her for brunch.

Cassandra, Varric, Sera and Solas were with her, waiting for the Grand Enchantress in a part of the estate when another guest spotted them and addressed the Herald in an unpleasant way. She considered him with an unreadable face but felt the others straightened as he threatened her. She held her hand to Cassandra, the closest to her, who had already her hand on the hilt. She whispered.

"Hold on." The four of them looked at her without understanding. Mahariel crossed her arms without looking at them and added "Wait for it."

And indeed, they did not have to wait long before Madame de Fer made her entrance, saving the day. Mahariel told her graciously to let the Duke go. Vivienne nodded and dismissed the silly little man before going on with proper introductions. After few words, she offered her elbow to Mahariel.

After a quick talk in which Vivienne did not stop to praise the delight she was with such wonderful manners, the Grand Enchantress came to her point: she wanted to join.

The matter was settled quickly and they came back to the others to share the promised brunch. Once Vivienne took her leave, Cassandra turned to Mahariel, eyes sharp.

"Herald, you should not take lightly threats on your person." Mahariel looked at her and, seeing she was serious, she could not help but laughed lightly. Seeing the frown taking the woman's features, she held her hand in apologies.

"Sorry Cassandra, 'tis just, there was not a single threat."

"But the man – "

"Was doing his job. This kind of heroic entrance is prepared. The Game never ends."

Realization was readable easily on Cassandra and Sera's face, while Solas and Varric were smirking. They did not see the play as quickly as she did, but her whisper made information hit home. Cassandra finally mumbled with an exasperated noise.

"Errrr…Orlesians…I don't understand why you did not confound the Grand Enchantress about it, considering." Mahariel laughed again.

"'Tis not how it works, Cassandra. No, the Duke likely being a bard, I could hire him for some event she would attend and pointed out how talented the minstrel is. Her nose would wrinkle half a second and that is the victory. Imagine the tragedy of Madame de Fer losing her composure face to a Tevinter elf. Outrageous." Cassandra looked at her, unnerved.

"You can't be serious."

"'Tis Orlais, Seeker. Besides, I shall not confound her as a courtesy, at the least. Without her healers, I would be dead."

"That, at least, is something I can understand."

"I suspected as much."

Mahariel grabbed her cape and sneaked out of the little room. As they were to take their leave quickly, it had make sense to the others than she asked for rest that afternoon. She put on a cloak, looking gingerly around. If anything, she was expecting a bard nearby. Nothing personal, but Madame de Fer wouldn't have raised to her position without a mastery of the Game. She had taken a glimpse of the elf while they were in the Garden. Except for a short exchange of letters, she hadn't had a chance to see him since the Hinterlands. Besides, she was curious of what he was doing here. Ghislain was not part of his last dispatch.

She found her way to a secluded part of the castle. She was aware she was followed but was certain enough it was precisely by the person she wanted to see. It didn't take long for the brown-hair to appear once she untriggered her cloak.

"My Lady." She rolled her eyes.

"Hello to you too, Oran. Why are you here?" He raised a brow.

"I tend to follow when I see you passed out and poisoned. And it happens to be easier to do since you are the Herald. However, harder to catch you alone. I gather this plan of yours with Venicio didn't work?" She pursued her lips.

"One can say that." He shrugged.

"I don't know what you had in mind, but for once, I'm relieved it failed. We should have dealt with him long ago."

"He was a good man, Oran."

"Was. He became mad with revenge the second his son died." Her nose wrinkled the slightest.

"No point in discussing this. What are the news?"

"We got some displacements plans from the templars. The reports for the clans are here. For now, the opponents of the Inquisition are spitting on Tevinter. Few words about Dalish. Your Spymaster and Ambassador are handling them. Our people heard a lot lately. Everything is in here, as well as the list of the ones ready to pay for it. You also have a letter from the Imperium and something interesting I salvaged before the Inquisition in Venicio's room."

"Good. Thank you, Oran. My apologies for making you play messenger. As you pointed out, it is hard to catch me alone, even for the birds."

"It is no trouble, my Lady."

"How many time do I have to tell you to drop this title?" He smiled faintly.

"How many times you want. Except if circumstances make it necessary, I shall disregard."

She suppressed a sigh and stretched her hand to get the reports he mentioned. She read them quickly. She will have to send few letters to the Clans for these Templars displacements to make sure they avoid them. She took a look at what he found at Venicio's.

Talon Venicio,

No one has confirmed what you affirm about the one they call Herald of Andraste. However, that being true or not, I have contacts confirming that this elf is the only one who has proven able to close these rifts. The Crows are no fools, don't let your grudge blinds you. I hereby forbid you or any of your men to attempt on the Herald's life as long as there is a hole in the sky, whatever her true identity is.

I won't say it twice.

-I

"Oh."

"One person is clear-minded in the Guild, at least."

"Ignacio has never been a fool. Good to know he is temporarily on my side."

She pursued her lips. It was why nothing had happened of the day in Val Royeaux. If she had not come to Venicio, he'd have stayed in place. He'd be alive. Maybe, but you heard him. He knew your name. He could have tracked the Clan, Analen, Linril. Don't be a child, he had to die. Right.

She broke the Imperial seal of the second letter.

Apprentice,

One of the servant informed me of your current situation. I appreciate the discretion of not contacting me directly, considering.

I have no suggestion for the time being if not, be careful. The debates about what happened in the South are heated in the Magisterium. Some of my countrymen seem particularly out of their mind, to be honest. Alexius is acting very strange. You should ask Felix, maybe will he answer to you.

I wish you luck.

Eventus

She frowned deeply. She doesn't like the sound of magister out of their mind and acting strange. Especially from another magister. If one of them thought that, the man had to be plotting something really big. And bad. Yeah, likely bad. Oran looked at her, waiting to know if she will share or not.

"I want our people to keep an eye on magister Alexius. I'll see in the reports if there is anything we can trade for insights."

"Consider it done. Anything else?" She shook her head.

"I want you to go back to your previous assignment. I won't need close protection for now. Direct the messages to the cache in Haven. For the urgent ones, I'll manage to catch them."

"As you wish."

"One more thing: were you there when I went to Venicio?"

"Yes. I, however, was there too late. I only followed when the blond elf got out, intrigued." She frowned.

"So, you didn't see me? I didn't miss anything?"

"As always, my Lady." She bit her bottom lips.

"How the hell did he follow?" He looked at her, apologetic.

"No idea. Mage thing? The mark on your hand, maybe?"

Yes, the Anchor, that had been her thought as well. Weird. It didn't seem like every mage was able to sense it…Not that she crossed path with so much. And she definitely didn't take the time to ask the apostates of the Hinterlands if they felt her coming. Maybe because he studied it extensively? She shook her head. She will have to find out. She might appreciate Solas, but anyone being able to track her that easily wasn't a thought she liked.