Thank you for reading! Please, review! Additional translations in the end notes.

Mahariel has to go away again but before she does, an unexpected visit in the Fade intrigues her to the highest point. Vivienne expresses her concerns about something.

The improvised meeting with Josephine, Leliana and Vivienne turned out to be an unexpected topo about preparations to face Orlesian nobility. Damn, she really hoped she had already demonstrated she was well-versed into the Grand Game. Sadly, she had still missed a lot of what happened in the last years – six entire fashion seasons she was not aware of, how outrageous! More importantly, her manners were indeed perfect for a bard. It needed some readjustments to be proper for the Inquisitor. Apparently. She really should have jumped over the guardrail when she had the chance.

But they were just coming to fill her in about the incoming schedule related to that topic. The meeting did not take long. After another hour on the reports, she decided it was time for a break, a monstrous headache being proof of it. She wanted to resume her discussion with Solas and headed downstairs. She entered the rotunda. Solas looked up from the book he was reading and smiled to her without a word. He finished the line he was on – all composure there – before closing it.

"Lethallan."

She opened her mouth but the slamming of the door leading to the battlements cut her short. Hawke, Cullen and Stroud on her heels, hurtled through the stairwell. When she spotted her, the Champion exclaimed dramatically with large gestures.

"Ariel, to the War Room!"

Mahariel frowned and opened her mouth but the Champion shoved her towards the door with force magic. Mahariel started at the push, clearly not expecting such sovereign order and glanced at Cullen, looking for some sense. The man cleared his throat, glaring at Hawke.

"Inquisitor, we should indeed head to the War Room. I just received a report from the Western Approach. We are clear." Stroud took over.

"We have to go. Now."

Mahariel looked from one to another, processing. Now? But we got here this morning and – she glanced quickly at Solas, managing to keep her frustration away from her face. The mage gave her the most imperceptible smile and nod. She gave him another apologetic look and suppressed a sigh.

"To the War Room, then." She glared at Hawke with feigned anger. "Don't ever do that again. Oh, if we are heading out, can I interest you in a game of staff-passes?"

"That sounds weird. I love it already!" Dorian tilted over the guardrail, already talking to their back.

"You almost got myself killed with that!" Mahariel yelled back from the corridor.

"Almost!" Solas could not help but looking up questioningly at the Tevinter.

"Staff-passes?" Dorian grunted.

"Don't get me started on this amazing idea of hers. It was right after the let's go into a hostile stronghold without staff and before oh look a dragon! Let's wake her up! I'm going to lose my wonderful hair if she goes on like that."

And, he should not have asked. He was worried enough about her when she was not here, knowing that was not going to help.

Mahariel looked at the map of Orlais and sighed.

"How much time to get there? Two good weeks, I guess." Cullen considered the map and nodded.

"A small party can make it in a fortnight, yes."

"Considering scout Harding's reports, the area is a mess…We won't be back before Solace." She looked up to Hawke and Stroud. "Be ready to leave at first lights." Josephine looked at her.

"So soon? But you came back this morning!"

"And this cannot wait, Ambassador."

"But – "

"Maybe the Inquisitor will consider taking Madame de Fer with her, Josie. So, she won't be late on schedule." Interrupted Leliana. Mahariel managed to suppressed the wince threatening to claim her features and nodded. Whatever. I guess my later actually meant let's talk next month. Again.

Unsurprisingly so, while he barely commented the fact, Solas received the news of the party going away again with mixed feelings. A part of him still hoped time away shall do him some good. She stopped by herself to let him know, for once. Her discomfort was obvious at doing so, a part of her somehow questioning what had crossed her mind for her to end up face to him only to tell him she was going to the Western Approach. This was preposterous, all of Skyhold would be well aware of that within fifteen minutes. The attention smoothened somewhat the fact, and he had to watch his tongue not to tell her they could meet in the Fade while she was away. In the terrible ideas he could suggest, that was a high-ranked one.

Nonetheless, he did not settle with himself on another matter that had been troubling him, and having her away should help. He needed to decide what to do of the different information he had gathered about her among the past months. He had spied on her dreams, sent an agent after her, then investigated on her past and now, he did not know what to do with that. Not with the information themselves, weaponizing them would not cross his mind, not anymore. But he could not admit her what he knew, how he knew, and yet, he could not bring himself not to. It felt wrong. The vision of the very first time he spied on her could not be drive away from his thoughts, indescribable rage grasping at him each time. And sadness. How blatantly he remembered feeling something break in her in this memory. He wanted to know more, but he already talked himself out of more spying. If he ever was to know, he wanted to hear it from her. Thing that she would never do if she learnt how much he had trespassed. Her trust was hard-won, he could not break it like this.

He sighed. He will wait for the time to be right and kept this too for himself in the meantime. More omissions to add to his long list.

Mahariel opened her eyes in the Fade. She felt an immense relief to the indistinct surrounding. The nightmares came and go, apparently it was a night without. She looked around, trying to figure out what place the Fade was trying to shape. It seemed like a tower…Circular at least. She narrowed her eyes to look at the wall which were the color of fire. Her focus managed to elaborate the details of mosaics. Elvhen? Maybe, but not in the colors she was to expect…

"I knew we shall meet again." Mahariel started at the eerie voice and turned quickly, a hand on the hilt of a dagger. She paused at the glowing red form. She tilted her head, her features relaxing.

"Command. Happy to see you found your way back safely."

The spirit nodded sovereignly and seemed to consider the elf – for what Mahariel could say of the facial expression of something without face. Command finally shaped. A tall elf with long blond hair appeared in front of her. The large eyes of the woman were amber gold, with golden make-up. She was wearing a crystal crown and a fluid dress whose fabric seemed made of crystal too. Her chin high, she gave Mahariel a smug smile.

"Better?" The elf chuckled slightly, looking at the beautiful woman from head to toe. An elvhen queen in all the magnificence she could imagine. She suspected the spirit had taken the idea from her own expectation of what could look like a spirit of Command. She nodded.

"Indeed. You indulge me, Messere. To what do I do the pleasure?"

The blond elf gestured toward a corner of the room where stood stairs. Mahariel hesitated barely a second. She was not familiar with hanging out with spirits, but, why not? After all, she knew this one and it was no demon. The woman guided her down the stairs, their surroundings becoming clearer with each step. Once they were downstairs, they emerged on some battlements. They seemed good as new, the grey stone slightly shining, silver vines crawling in such perfect pattern on the rock Mahariel was sure it was merely decorative. Her eyes turned to the courtyard and she stopped breathing. A glass fountain was standing in the middle of a garden, rich with trees and flowers of all color. Silver slab were tracing a path around the fountain, the branches of the trees making perfect-shape arch in an incredible easiness and natural way. Her hand brushed the guardrail as she made her way into the dream-like courtyard. Glass statues were here and there, in a playful hide-and-seek disposition. The rock was tingling with magic, warm, familiar, under her hand. Command was behind her, letting her take in the surreal place. Her hand brushed some mosaic on a wall, made of gold and green. She finally turned to Command.

"Is it your domain? This is magnificent." Whispered she, breathless.

Command seemed amused by the question and did not answer right away, letting the elf explore the garden. She did not dare more than graze the things, as if it was about to break. She started when the voice arose behind her.

"I accept the second part of your statement. For the first, I shall not claim any property of a place someone else commands." Mahariel turned to her, examining her features with interest. The way she declared it…Something was obviously implied but what? She looked around, trying to get over every single detail. Information suddenly hit home.

"We are still in Skyhold." Command smiled and looked around appreciatively.

"We do have something in common, you and I. Your place of command is worthy of you, Inquisitor."

Mahariel took some time to process but instinctively nodded her thanks. She bit her bottom lip, thoughtful with the oddest of the hunch, a tight knot in her belly. If it was Shyhold…Nothing was human here…Could it be…

"It is." Confirmed the spirit, not needing the question to be voiced.

"This is not Skyhold…This is Tarasyl'an Te'las…We are in Elvhenan." She spoke so low, out of voice, she was not sure the spirit heard her. Not that it needed to. After another astonished silence, she let out a breath she did not know she was holding and asked "Did you see this? Did you shape the Fade?" Command smirked again.

"I shaped it, but I did not see it in Elvhenan. Those in command always needs those who advise." Mahariel tilted her head, trying to break the cryptic. She gave up with impatience.

"What does this mean?"

"The mechanisms do not change, the faces do. And sometimes they do not." Mahariel raised an eyebrow.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Command smiled almost motherly.

"I am not trying anything, Inquisitor. I was merely wondering how it is that this place is fated to some spirits." She chuckled and added aside "Is it fate or chance, I can never decide.I shall visit you sometimes my friend…" She shook her head and turned back to Mahariel, manifestly amused by something else about this friend. "You hurt the ones you loved the most, and became what you hate in order to save what you love." The elf was absolutely at lost with her words, appearing nothing like coherent. Still, she frowned a bit.

"Are you speaking about me?"

"Would it be this easy? The one who command and the one who advise, but which one is who?" Mahariel pinched her nose, trying to put the cryptic pieces together.

"You won't be straightforward, will you?" Command smirked.

"You said it, Inquisitor, the Game never ends." She paused and looked almost apologetic. "You did something I appreciate, while you did not owe me. But I cannot be straightforward on it. Even if I wanted, more powerful won't let me. With such mark on your hand, no word is private for you here. They don't listen, but they hear." Mahariel's eyes widened with concern.

"Is there any danger for you in speaking to me?"

"Depends on what I say. He has many ears who won't let me finish the sentence if I began it."

"He? Who?" Mahariel paused, rolling her eyes to herself. "No, of course, a name will typically drive attention." Command nodded.

"I'm sorry, Inquisitor. Friend or foe, I cannot say, truth is tricky and more than one exists. I only consider I owed you a warning. A favor for a favor."

Mahariel suppressed a sigh and nodded. She looked around once more, but with another purpose. Certainly, the place was somehow an unsaid clue. Even if she could not think of something right now. She was no dreamer, not until recently…Maybe Command was trying to indicate her she should look for a memory here? Still, if it was the Ancient Time, she hardly saw how it could affect her now…Or did Corypheus came here? He was apparently one of the Magister who entered the Black City, or claimed to be. But…Friend or foe…No, no way. There was no questioning on which side Corypheus was. She frowned, thoughtful, as she walked around. Cole? He was a spirit; a spirit could be that old…But it does not make more sense. First, Solas had stated he was a young spirit. She doubted Elvhenan old could be consider young. And he was a spirit of Compassion. Its purpose was likely the clearest a purpose could be.

She entered the main hall and froze as eerie voices resounded, yelling in an elvhen she could not understand. The whole thing was messy, three or four ghostly voices melting in a row. One of them nothing but roared, silencing the other.

"Penshra! Ea Elvhen, Geldauran!" Another arose in a sick laughter.

"Dea."

The shadows vanished, letting Mahariel stunned, trying to figure if she heard and understood correctly. She doubted it. The voices were indistinct, aloof, without any kind of particular timber in them. But if she had…No, it could not. No way one of these shadows was called Geldauran. The only thought of it was making her sick and dread. Dalish mythology and superstition were far in her mind, her vision of it had changed a lot since the blinded trust of a da'len in these assessed tales but…She could only shiver at such name. Such name should not even been said. She swallowed, only now realizing her hands were shaking.

"What was that?!"

"A piece of what happened here. The argument must have had consequences for its memory to manifest like this."

"Did…" Damn I cannot ask that. I sound crazy and I definitely cannot say that name here, considering the fucking beacon I am. Command looked at her with a scowl and pointed out.

"I cannot tell you if you don't let me hear." Mahariel frowned too. Why could it not hear? She was definitely tensed tight now, maybe she was blocking Command out? She nodded and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the grim features of Command and her meaningful eyes.

"You are wise not to pronounce it here."

Was it…Fear which tainted its voice? Was it afraid of the Forgotten Ones? Her eyes widened at the thought. If it was, it meant they existed. Not that she was that much astounded, she believed they existed, or she would not be afraid of their names. She just did not really believe in the meaning of the word god. It seemed…Empty. A word used to speak of a powerful being they did not quite understand. Command seemed to be waiting for her to pull it together. Mahariel took another deep breath.

"So?"

Command gave her a single nod. She swallowed hard again but did not add a word. Okay…Okay…So, I just heard a forgotten one laughing…Oh creators, this is madness.

"Command, did it had anything to do with what you want to say?" Command seemed thoughtful before answering shortly.

"Somehow." The spirit suddenly straightened. She looked around with a frown. "Inquisitor, we have to leave for now. You have things to attend to." Mahariel looked at it with disbelief.

"You cannot stop there! I have too many questions!"

"Questions I cannot answer. We shall meet again, I will help you as I can." Its face grew dark and almost threatening. "Do not mention this to anyone."

"What? But wh – "

"Anyone, Inquisitor." Mahariel stared at it a handful of second before snorting.

"Here was the command." Command frowned.

"Inquisitor." Mahariel sighed.

"Of course, Command. Thank you for…Whatever you are doing. I appreciate it." Even if it does not help much. Command nodded and patted her shoulder in a reassuring way.

"You are a true Leader. You will understand. Believe me. Now, wake up."

It took them two weeks to reach the Western Approach. The whole area was a mess. Darkspawn, bandits, beasts, venatori, it had everything. And an awful weather. Mahariel thought that they were more likely to die from the sun than from the fights. Hawke and Stroud were sometimes with them, sometimes they were working on their lead by themselves.

They ran into another dragon during this trip, for the greatest pleasure of both Hawke and Mahariel. The Inquisitor thought she should took a look in the undercroft; with what they salvaged of the two beasts, they should be able to do some pretty good stuffs.

Vivienne, Mahariel, Cassandra and Varric were walking in the endless sand. Mahariel was few steps forward, looking for a lead on the darkspawn assaulting the Griffon Keep that they had reclaimed few days before.

Vivienne joined her side, quickening her own pace. The inquisitor looked at her suspiciously as she took her arm under hers.

"I thought we agreed to keep the lessons for the evening." Madame de Fer let a smug laughter out.

"Do not worry dear, you made that clear when you rushed to darkspawns to avoid my speech yesterday. I had another subject in mind."

"Help yourself."

"Wonderful dear! So, I heard the most insane whispers lately. I intended to ignore them but..." And dramatic pause. Let me guess, you wonder if the Dalish sacrifice babies? Creators I need something to slaughter if this is it. "…Is this my imagination, dear, or have certain lingering looks passed between you and our Solas?" Mahariel stumbled and nothing but spat her answer.

"Lingering what?!" I hardly spoke to the man in months, save it doing anything like that! Well, I may have nod him greetings once or twice in the main hall but – No lingering whatever. Where did she – she mumbled "I'm gonna kill this dwarf…" Vivienne sighed deeply of relief.

"Oh, thank the Maker dear, there stories of secret messages got me worried!" Note for later, killing Dorian too. "Surely you can find better than this filthy apostate!" The obvious disgust in her tone made Mahariel's thoughts take another direction. She stopped her steps right away, voice and eyes colder than an icicle.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know what I mean, darling." Her hand waved the topic away but Mahariel was not done. A sentence crossed finally her lips – truth be told, pretty lamely.

"He is not filthy."

"If you say so, dear. Better not making sure of it by staying too close." Mahariel looked at her with disbelief. She finally smirked wickedly, decided to put the Enchantress back in her place.

"Staying too close like sharing his cot? Been there, done that. So, no, not filthy." Vivienne obviously did not get her point.

"Oh, poor thing! I never thought of your travel to Skyhold with him! With the cold of the nights in the mountains…Must have been terrible! Do not worry, no one will learn about it from me." Fen'harel halani em! Fenedhis asha, you are impossible! Bitter and angry, she smirked and mimicked her.

"Oh darling, this is so cute! You do think it was because of the cold." Vivienne went livid.

"Maker, so it is true!" Mahariel managed to keep a bit of composure on the outside, even if she wanted to slap herself. She tried to ignore the burning skin of her pointed ears which likely just turned crimson. She crossed her arms and answered dryly.

"I did not say that." Vivienne looked at her embarrassment almost motherly.

"Oh darling, you would not put such heart in defending him if it was not. But once more, no one will learn it from me."

She remained silent, the curses in her head addressed to both the Orlesian and herself overwhelming her mind. Any word will make it worst at this point. She was begging the red colors to leave but her cheeks were on fire. Before she could say or do anything, Varric jumped between them with a wink.

"Considering Grey has turned red, I bet someone brought up Chuckles!"

"OH LOOK! VENATORI AHEAD!" Creators bless those damn vints…Before I behead them, naturally. She ran towards her happily spotted foes and ignored Varric's loud laughter resounding in the valley.

Geldauran – one of the Forgotten Ones.

Penshra! Ea Elvhen – Enough! They are of the People

Dea – Not anymore (literally, they were)

Fen'harel halani em – Dread Wolf help me

Fenedhis asha – Dammit woman