Made it back from vacation, nearly three hours later than Google predicted due to the amount of snow on the road and some accidents that resulted from it. Also, my daughter somehow caught a stomach bug that showed up this morning, and that was fun. Vomiting 3-year-old on a six hour drive through snowy mountains in the middle of nowhere? Who wouldn't enjoy that, right?

Another chapter incoming - it's short but related to this one. More explanation there.

Challenges and Chargers

I wrote my response to Maela that afternoon. It didn't take as long as I had feared, now that I had a strategy for both addressing her concern and alluding to my own resentments without pouring them out in a torrent of bitterness. I didn't tell her much about my business for the Inquisition - those might not be my secrets to tell. I did talk, though, about closing rifts, making friends with Varric and Sera, my growing - if still restrained - fondness for Cassandra and all her rough edges, and the new magic I was learning under the tutelage of a talented elven apostate. Reading back over the letter, it was clear how happy I was, even surrounded by so much darkness and so many deluded humans clamoring to worship me.

I offered assurances that I was no Herald of anything, whatever rumors she might hear.

I closed the letter by telling her I loved her. I said nothing about missing her or the clan.

With that task finished, I turned my attention to the other important letter I had received, from one Vivienne of Montsimmard, Madame de Fer, Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais. Josephine had helpfully attached two examples of proper notes for accepting invitations, both written in perfect copperplate. That couldn't be helped - I could make my script as ornate as anyone might desire, the shapes of Elvish runes encouraging such creative liberties, but the calligraphy used by human nobility was codified rather than creative. Josephine had mused about teaching me, but claimed to find my flourishes so enchanting that she was almost reluctant to stuff me into an aristocratic mold.

I was a little flattered - unlike Maela, I had no talent for drawing and couldn't produce the illuminated texts that she proudly took to the Arlathvhen as gifts for the other Keepers. Giving gifts raised a clan's standing, and few gifts were finer than books written in our ancestral language, especially when they were carefully and lovingly crafted, as those Maela created inevitably were. When I had been her Second, I had at least helped with the less fanciful lettering, and so I had learned to write in an elegant hand.

I was pleased the skill had come back so readily, considering it had been years since I had been allowed to write Elvish. Only Keepers and their apprentices were supposed to know the language. Once I was no longer an apprentice, everyone had started pretending I hadn't been studying it ever since my mage gift was discovered.

The wording of a letter of acceptance was simple enough - I penned my note with elegant flourishes, and then took both letters to the chantry so they could be sent to their destinations.

On my way back out, I passed near a man who appeared to be trying to get the attention of - well, nearly anyone who passed. "Excuse me," he said to me, "I've got a message for the Inquisition, but I'm having a hard time getting anyone to talk to me."

"Ah - ir abelas," I apologized. "Things are chaotic right now. And maybe always - but definitely right now. If you give me the message I can make sure it makes its way to the right people."

He looked relieved as he straightened and gestured toward himself. "Cremisius Aclassi, with the Bull's Chargers mercenary company. We mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra. We got word of some Tevinter mercenaries gathering out on the Storm Coast. My company commander, Iron Bull, offers the information free of charge. If you'd like to see what the Bull's Chargers can do for the Inquisition, meet us there and watch us work."

"Oh. Recruitment. It seems I am the right people for the message, though hiring means I would need to run it past - never mind." I shook my head, realizing the soldier had no need of these musings. "Tell me more about your company, and your leader - Iron Bull?"

"Iron Bull," Cremisius Aclassi repeated thoughtfully, "well - he's Qunari. He leads from the front, pays well, and he's a lot smarter than the last bastard I worked for. Best of all, he's professional. We accept contracts with whoever makes the first real offer. You're the first time he's gone out of his way to pick a side."

"Hole in the sky has that effect on people," I agreed, shifting nervously. I wasn't certain what else to ask. "Er, what is your company most skilled at? Front line fighting? Infiltration?"

"We have several specialists, so we're well-suited to tasks that require a small team with enough muscle to hold its own in a stand-up fight," he answered.

"Creators know, there's no shortage of tasks that answer to that description," I sighed. "I can't make any promises, but I do want to meet your commander."

"I appreciate it," he said with a nod. "You won't regret it - we're the best you'll find."

"Good, then expect to see us on the Storm Coast in - hopefully three weeks, provided nothing else blows up," I told him, and turned around now that I had a new reason to speak with one or more of the Inquisition's leaders. Josephine, because of finances - and likely Cullen, since he was in charge of our forces.

In fact, the offer from the Bull's Chargers caused more dissension than I had yet seen among the four leaders. They had already been going around in circles on whether I should go meet Vivienne of Montsimmard first, or attempt to deal with Alexius, but Cassandra had - somewhat reluctantly - been persuaded that allies of high station - even if they were from Orlais - would help in dealing with whatever cascading problems arose from Alexius's occupation of Redcliffe, leaving only Cullen pushing for an immediate confrontation with the magister. Now, though, if I went to meet Vivienne, it made sense to visit the Storm Coast before coming back, which would delay dealing with Alexius further, which neither Leliana nor Cassandra believed was wise. Josephine still thought I should meet with Vivienne, but now Cullen was on her side - he had apparently heard of the Bull's Chargers and believed we should hire them before launching into a conflict with a Tevinter magister, no matter how cut off from the resources of his homeland he might seem.

"Many of our soldiers are raw recruits," Cullen argued. "Any chance to gain skilled soldiers, accustomed to working together as a team, should be taken before we launch into conflicts that are likely to tax us beyond what we have faced so far. Besides," he added, "we don't have to recruit the mages - "

The other three leaders groaned. "We are not discussing this again!" Leliana snapped.

"Now that we better understand the threat Alexius poses, it seems unwise to leave such an enemy on our very doorstep," Cassandra seconded.

"And normally I would agree with you," Cullen continued arguing, "but if we had the loyalty of the templars, imagine how much easier it would be to put a stop to this magister's plans!"

"It is too great a delay," Josephine argued back.

"Now you're concerned by the delay?" Cullen growled at her, even though, on the matter of the recruitment of Vivienne and the Chargers, they were on the same side.

"Have we received an invitation from Alexius to open negotiations yet?" I asked quietly before Josephine could come up with a sufficiently searing rebuttal.

"No," Josephine answered, and I could see her head oriented toward Cullen, even if I couldn't see the look she was giving him. I had the feeling that I should be glad not to be on the receiving end of it. "Not yet."

"You have already decided we can't march directly on the castle," I pointed out. "Leliana favors infiltration - "

"Which would certainly be easier with an invitation," Leliana agreed, sighing.

"Which we don't have yet," I summed up. "Are we going to potentially waste days waiting? Do we have days to waste?"

"No," Cullen said, "we need to move forward to consolidate our position - which means gaining allies and hiring skilled soldiers where we can find them."

"And after, once we know what these new allies can offer, and once we know whether Alexius is going to pretend to negotiate, and on what terms, then we will be in a better position to decide whether to attempt to gain the support of the templars or free the mages," I said, the pieces of the timeline falling into place in my head. Though I wasn't at all convinced that gaining the templars as allies was the best use of our time, Cullen's claim that they could suppress the magic Alexius was attempting was somewhat persuasive - worth leaving the option open, at least for now. In some ways, deciding how and when to make such decisions was no different than organizing the work details for my clanmates, which was a task I had always been good at as Second. It was all a question of prioritizing goals, and then using time and resources to accomplish as many as possible, preferably in order of priority, but also holding on to the way several lesser goals could add up to something greater than one bigger goal.

"The Herald makes a persuasive point," Cassandra said. "This seems the best use of our time, given the circumstances." She looked at me, straightening from her bent position - she had been contemplating the map, no doubt - as she turned towards me. "Who will go with you to meet Vivienne of Montsimmard and then the Bull's Chargers? You don't need everyone."

"True," I allowed slowly, "but aren't you coming?"

"If you want me," she assured me quickly. "I have no love for the trappings of nobility or for the Grand Game played by Orlesian aristocrats, but I confess myself curious about this mercenary company."

"Well," I sighed, "I doubt this is the correct time to deploy Sera, and Blackwall is a little rough around the edges. So perhaps you, Varric, and Solas are still the best choices for the moment."

"I agree," Josephine said. "Though you may have little patience with nobles and games of negotiation, Cassandra, you do know the steps of the dance. I would feel better if you were there to help guide our Herald."

"As you wish," she assented, bowing her head a little. Her eyes fell on me. "You have to tell Varric we're dragging him off to sleep in a tent again, though."

I laughed and agreed.

It would take a day to gather fresh provisions, and there were a few other things to oversee or organize - particularly for Cassandra. For my own tasks, we had already sent a messenger from Corporal Vale's camp in the Crossroads to tell the farmers near Redcliffe that the wolves had been dealt with, but Cullen was still trying to put together a work detail to build the watchtowers Blackwall and Sera had sited. I suggested that he send Blackwall and Sera back with the workers, since they weren't coming with me - that would provide both some protection and extra pairs of hands. He thanked me and wrote the orders.

Afterward, I put together my pack and checked to make sure I had a full stock of potions, and then I made my slow way out to the lake to practice the magic I was learning. I laid a simple enchantment on the largest rock I could easily lift in one hand, turning it carefully to make sure my spell had been applied evenly. I didn't want to make grabbing it any harder on myself by making the rock appear lopsided - not yet. Then I moved it out near the center of the lake by brushing aside the Veil, grabbing it through the Fade, and nudging it into place.

I could still see my spell, even from a distance, and it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps enchantments or runes worked into my companions' armor might provide me the means of keeping track of them. It wasn't an immediate solution - custom enchantments were expensive - and I still needed to learn whatever Solas thought he could teach me so that I would be able to spot enemies who weren't mages, demons, or templars. But it would solve the problem of not being able to see Varric, and individual-specific enchantments would make everyone else very clearly visible to me.

I filed the thought away for later, feeling a tiny bloom of pleasure at my own ingenuity, and concentrated on my practice. It was two nugs with one arrow, in a way - the stone was much smaller than Solas, and I could see why he had considered such an exercise a step forward in my practice. Plucking something small from one place in the waking world and encouraging it to be somewhere else required more delicacy and precision than grabbing something large. It also required less power, though, which made it a useful skill to master, not merely good practice.

I kept working until my mana was almost entirely depleted. When I was finished, I found I had gathered a small audience. Well, I found it out as I returned to shore, anyway. All three of them - Solas, Varric, and Blackwall - were too far away for me to actually see from where I had been practicing.

"Are you keeping tabs on my progress?" I asked Solas as I neared their group, uncertain whether I was irritated, embarrassed, or a little bit amused. Perhaps all three.

"No," he answered. "Varric asked me about your studies and, after I had explained, he and the Warden wanted to watch." Solas smiled. "Though, I confess, I was pleased by the excuse."

"Impressive stuff, Vanish," Varric called out then.

"I'm still not certain I want to be pulled through the Fade," Blackwall said uneasily.

"Well, do you not want it more or less than a sword in your skull?" Varric asked him cheerfully. "If I understand correctly, pulling us away from imminent death is the main purpose of the trick."

Blackwall grunted, perhaps conceding the point. "Less," he said. "I think."

I was close enough to see Solas raise his eyes heavenward, and it made me laugh. He looked surprised, but his lips might have quirked in response - though maybe it was a grimace.

I looked away, not confident in my reading of the interaction. "All right, I'm hungry and I need a bath. Will one of you please help me back to Haven?"

Blackwall responded immediately, offering both an apology and his arm. This time, I was fairly certain I wasn't misinterpreting Solas's frown, or mistaking it for some other expression.