Note: Pretty big one here. Thank you for reading and for all the favs and follows.

Dragon Age
"The Relic"

Chapter Nineteen: Justice

Khrys' great Hart was huge, Kyp was a big horse but it seemed as if the great red beast dwarfed him. Tem commanded obedience from the other animals and Kyp was no different. Her only equal was Thom's big Courser, Dragon. The legend said that Hart's and Halla were magical creatures, smarter than horses and the creatures of the wild obeyed them. Most of it was purely myth and legend but witnessing a Hart passing through a forest and hearing the change in the area was enough to make even the most skeptical take note. Khrys was surprised by how quickly Malcolm moved. He was a good choice to bring along since he'd spent most of his time alone. He'd learned how to move quickly without tiring out his horse.

There wasn't much small talk between them, Malcolm understood the focus from Khrys…he wanted to find Bree also. When he found Solas he'd kick his ass. Malcolm didn't talk much anyway. He was always a bit strange but most just attributed that to his secluded upbringing. He scouted as far away from Khrys as he dared but always managed to keep her in sight. It wasn't that the Inquisitor was helpless, she was far from it, the loss of a hand or not she was still a skilled Mage, but the ordeal with the Anchor and Solas did leave her weaker than she ever had been.

They crossed the Waking Sea without much fuss landing in Kirkwall and pressing on quickly. Khrys was surprised at the respect that Malcolm's presence commanded, he was only 17 but as a hooded figure on a giant black Charger he looked like Death.

The Vimmark's were the hardest part, they needed to cut over the mountains to reach the destination and the road was always ripe with raiders, slavers, and bandits. The pair either looked like they weren't worth the trouble or just downright evil because aside from one challenge that Malcolm ended with a wave of his hand no one bothered them. There was something to be said for Sebastian's presence throughout the Free Marches, he kept the peace and the roads clear of the unsavory sort.

The further north they went the more the landscape changed and became a high desert. To the east it was green and fertile but the west was more arid. Malcolm cursed the heat and removed his cloak. Khrys shrugged the heat off, she'd survived the Oasis and the Hissing Wastes, this was nothing. As they continued on the landscape slowly changed to a great wide steppe. Flat in all directions, this was the Minanter Basin.

Malcolm stopped in his tracks on the road, Kyp's ears pricked forward alert to the same thing he was seeing in the distance. "Rider," he said to Khrys and Tem snorted. "Only one…looks like a knight."

Khrys appreciated his observation and was impressed with his good eyesight but she was certain they could handle one lone rider if it came to it. "Let's go," she said and kicked Tem into a canter and Malcolm and Kyp matched them. As they got closer the rider grew more familiar. The horse was a heavy built beautiful dapple grey with black mane, tail, and points. A very flashy and very noticeable horse they'd seen before. The rider was a tall man in what looked like white armor…Khrys realized who it was when they got close enough.

"Sebastian?" she questioned seeing the Starkhaven Prince also in a canter toward them.

Malcolm swore to himself.

"My Lady Herald., he replied giving a bow after he pulled his horse up.

Malcolm edged forward. "What are you doing here?" he asked and his tone made his suspicion clear. It was suspicious that he would be far from Starkhaven without a guard. He drew his right dagger and held it low in an obvious warning. Malcolm didn't trust him and it showed.

Despite what people said about him Sebastian was hard to rattle, his brow furrowed at the very young mage on his guard but ignored the blatant threat. He was not here to harm either of them, he was here to help. "I received a message from Skyhold, Lady Inquisitor," he answered looking past Malcolm to Khrys.

Khrys sighed heavily. She could guess what was in the letter and who it was from. "Damn Michel," she cursed quietly, there was no real venom behind it but she was annoyed. Michel couldn't come along so he sent someone else to guard her.

The Prince smiled. "He loves you a great deal, Lady Inquisitor, can you blame him for wanting to protect you?" Sebastian said and Khrys snorted. Malcolm's guard still hadn't changed and Sebastian, cool as ever, continued to ignore him. "There is no tower, ruin or intact, where you indicated, Khrys."

Khrys was following the instinct Solas told her to heed in the dream. "There's something there."

Sebastian was certain nothing was there but he allowed it, he didn't pretend to understand magic but he was sworn to the Herald no matter what. "Then I will accompany you," he said and Khrys shook her head. He raised his left hand in the Princely way to silence surfs, both Malcom and Khrys bristled. "You are traveling through my land, Lady Inquisitor. I am coming with you."

Malcolm could see the worth and though he didn't trust the Prince with his own life he did with the Inquisitor's, as strange as that sounded. "A good archer can't hurt, Khrys." Malcolm put in and then Sebastian cocked his head at the son of his enemy while Malcolm deftly returned the Antivan Slasher to its place on his back.

"Well, I'm glad I have the seal of approval from the teenage son of a terrorist," Sebastian spat back but Malcolm's expression didn't change. He wasn't that easy to bait especially considering that his father really was a terrorist.

Khrys urged Tem forward, if Sebastian wanted to come she wouldn't, couldn't, stop him. "Can you two please behave?" she grumbled as the archer and the mage continued to eye each other before turning to follow.


It was a quiet ride and Tem set a swift walking pace. the Hart was tuned to her rider and could feel the unease from Khrys so she moved with purpose. Behind her Malcolm and Sebastian traded looks, glowers really, they'd been quiet but the obvious animosity was there. Malcolm had grown up hearing all the stories about the Prince of Starkhaven, the man who relentlessly hunted his family. It wasn't entirely true of course. Sebastian wanted Anders but often times the bounty hunters tracked the family and created further issues forcing Anders to protect himself and his family.

"So, Malcolm, how is your father?" Sebastian asked but his question was not kind, Malcolm was not his father and really had nothing to do with what happened in Kirkwall. Evelyn and Balian together reminded him that this was about justice for the people that Anders killed not a blood feud.

"Out of your clutches," Malcolm replied his tone plain and unconcerned.

"You're the one responsible for the disappearances of all the bounty hunters?" Sebastian asked and Malcolm gave a half smile.

"Stop sending them then," he smirked. Malcolm's humor mirrored his father and irritated Sebastian but he shrugged.

"I especially enjoyed the letter saying 'better luck next time' sent with the missives from all the ones you've killed," Sebastian rebutted almost chuckling and Malcolm felt proud of himself. "Balian wanted to hunt you down himself for the insult."

Malcolm could care less. Balian was a fine warrior but he was better. "Good thing he didn't, you'd have lost your bodyguard…I actually like him."

Sebastian scoffed and shook his head. "You are as arrogant as your father."

Malcolm shook his head. "No not arrogant, arrogance implies an exaggeration of my self-importance. Knowing that I'm better than your bodyguard is not arrogance."

Sebastian snorted and shook his head, the seventeen year old mage was worse than his father was. Anders irked him in Kirkwall and still did now. "You're a foolish boy."

Malcolm turned Kyp sharply into Sebastian's path and the two stallions pinned their ears at each other. Sebastian's horse was a warhorse and big grey didn't like another horse in such close proximity. Silver nipped at him and Kyp swished his tail in response but remained firmly under his master's command. "Stop sending people after my family and I'll stop burying your bounty hunters all over Fereldan."

He may have been a kid but Malcolm had killed many in defense of his family, Sebastian respected him for that and said nothing as Malcolm turned Kyp from Silver and followed Khrys.


Something was nagging at Khrys, her turn for watch had been uneventful but Sebastian and Malcolm needed to sleep. She was following the instinct from the Fade and getting close, the tower was close…she could feel it. Dawn was coming and she could feel the tower so close by, it had to have been magicked. It called to her to the point she couldn't resist and collected Tem without waking Sebastian and Malcolm. The duo may have been chilly to each other but they did what they came for, protected her. She made a decision and headed for Tem. The Hart snorted as she swung up onto her.

"Don't snort at me," she muttered and urged the Hart away swiftly.

Tem cantered comfortably as Khrys followed, what she was sure, was magic. Magic was masking the location for Solas' tower which would explain the sense she was getting and the fact that Sebastian kept telling her nothing was there. She pulled Tem to a stop and felt the magic nexus, it was powerful. She closed her eyes and cast waving her hand to dispel the magic shrouding what she was looking for.

The tower shimmered into the real in the light of the dawn. It was an old broken tower that looked to be elven in origin. The tower had probably been beautiful once, a very long time ago and it was still impressive as a ruin, but time had ravaged it. She didn't see anyone around or any horses, there was no sign of anything really. She slipped off Tem and told her to stay. She could hear the voice in her head telling her not to go in alone and to go back and get Sebastian and Michel but Solas had told her to come alone.

She climbed the steps to the top and found nothing more than a big circular space with an altar in the center.

"Hello, Khrystabel," Solas greeted her causing Khrys to spin toward him. It was just like the dream and she flushed immediately with anger and love. She swallowed but her throat went dry and her chest tightened. It was him, in the flesh, not some dream, not a figment, him.

She steeled her nerve and remembered why she was here. "What do you want?" Khrys hissed harshly.

Solas looked her up and down, she was still beautiful, it nearly destroyed him to leave her like he did and it was even worse when she tracked him to through the Eluvians. "There was a time when you yearned for me."

She'd be lying if she thought she didn't anymore. She loved Solas so much it hurt, but that was the past. Khrys glowered and gestured to her left arm. "You took my arm," she hissed again.

Solas barely shrugged. "Better than your life," he answered and she had to admit that he was right about that, it didn't make it any better. That was her last kiss with him, she did miss him, missed his touch and his love. "You're still beautiful, Vhenan."

"Don't call me that!" she growled taking a threatening step toward him. "Don't you ever call me that! You lost that right! Now give me back my daughter."

Solas clasped his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. "Give me the Relic," he replied.

Khrys narrowed her eyes. "Relic?"

Solas simply looked down at her; his eyes still had some warmth to them. She used to love him looking at her like that. "The one Warden Carver found. That the Inquisition now has."

Khrys' first thought was he could take a flying leap. She wasn't sure what that thing was that they brought back but she knew if Solas wanted it she needed to keep it. "What relic?"

"Do not be coy, Vhenan, I know the Inquisition aided in rescue of Warden Carver. I saw it in Nathaniel Howe's memories before he died." She tightened her jaw hoping that Sebastian or Malcolm would find her soon, if they found her. She was no match for Solas, not even close, she never had been. Necromancy was fine specialization but Solas was Fen'Harel, an ancient Elf who likened himself a god.

"You mean before you murdered him." She hissed back and Solas sighed.

Khrys knew that Solas and Nathaniel actually got along. She knew that he was the one Warden that Solas actually respected. "He was hearing the calling, what I did was a mercy," he excused and Khrys wanted to kill him even more.

Khrys was defiant to the last, Solas could kiss her ass. He wanted to destroy the known world and she was going to stop him. "I don't have your Relic, Solas. Give me back my daughter and maybe I won't kill you," she threatened.

Her spirit made him smirk with pride. Oh did he still love her, but he had a job to do. He stepped closer to her and his expression went cold. "Bring me the-…," he began and felt something bore through his right shoulder causing him to stagger forward with a grunt.

Khrys tried to skitter out of the way as her former lover practically fell into her arms. She instinctively caught him and prevented him from falling. There was an arrow imbedded through his armor in his back, a familiar type of arrow loosed from Sebastian's bow. "Sebastian," she breathed, grateful to see him.

Sebastian pulled another arrow from the quiver and nocked it. "Step away," he ordered.

Solas grunted and turned to look at him. "Ahh, the Prince of Starkhaven," Solas growled ignoring the arrow in his back and turned his ire on the Prince. Khrys saw the blue in his eyes and felt a sudden feeling of dread. This was a mistake.

"Sebastian, go," she ordered the overwhelming fear of what was next made her heart thump. "Sebastian, he'll kill you, go."

Solas grimaced as he raised his right hand back toward her placing a freezing spell on her. "No, Sebastian, stay," he growled, anger welling in him. Blue glowing eyes were eerie made more so by the faint swirl of black smoke beginning to emanate from them.

Khrys screamed and stumbled back into the wall flooded with a feeling of icy cold covering her body. Sebastian wasted no time and loosed another arrow but Solas deflected this one and fade stepped through the Prince. Sebastian felt like he was freezing from the inside out and couldn't help but drop his bow hearing it clatter to the floor as Solas trapped him holding the blade on his gauntlet to his throat.

"I told you to come alone, Khrystabel," he scolded and she steadied herself.

"Solas, let him go," she said and held up her right hand in as non-threatening a manner as she could. "He's here to protect me, that's all."

Solas was offended, he would never hurt Khrys and he was mad that he had an arrow in his back. "Your friend will die because of your betrayal, Vhenan," he said and Khrys took a shaky step toward him.

"No. Solas, don't…please," she pleaded but knew that she was about to witness something she didn't want. "Solas, please."

Instead of drawing the blade across his throat Solas drove it into the left side of his neck in a slow motion making sure he hit what was vital on the way in. Sebastian opened his mouth at the assault but blood gargled up and out of his mouth streaming down his chin.

"NO!" Khrys screamed watching Solas, a man she still loved, remove the blade from her friend's neck with a sickening sound. He crumpled to the ground. "You son of a bitch!" she cursed and unleashed a burst of flashfire at him. He was singed a bit by the fire but managed to deflect most of it. Khrys scrambled to Sebastian's side, blood was pouring from the wound on his neck but he was still alive but not for long. "No, Sebastian, no. Please, no."

Solas wasn't proud of having to do this by force but he was annoyed and frustrated, he didn't have time to wear her down or fence with her. "The Relic, Vhenan, or the Prince will not be the last to go," he hissed and Khrys assumed he meant Bree.

"If you touch my daughter I will light the world on fire to kill you, Fen'Harel," she promised using his name as the curse he was so used to.

Solas shook his head and tried to reach the arrow still lodged in his shoulder. He cursed quietly not able reach it. "I would never harm your daughter, or you, but everyone around you will die until I get what I want…just like him." She glared up at him then looked down at Sebastian, the life slipping away quickly. She was a terrible healer, she'd never been able to master healing spells and now it was going to cost her the life a loyal friend. "Your lover, the Chevalier. Dorian. The Commander. I will kill them all."

He squatted down by her but out of arms reach, his back hurt but he couldn't get to the arrow, he'd have to force her to do it for him. "I'm going to kill you, Fen'Harel," she hissed. Her eyes were filled with hate now, not something he wanted to see but it was the price he had to pay for this. "I don't care what I have to do. The last thing you will see just before you die will be me."

Solas was going to see her beautiful face when he died anyway, he always thought of her, so it wasn't much of a threat. "The Relic, Vhenan."

Blood continued to flow from Sebastian's neck wound. The Prince gurgled and blood splattered on her face, he was still alive, barely and she looked up at Solas with as cold an expression as she could muster. "Fuck you," she spat and Solas sighed heavily with frustration and stood up straight, she was a stubborn woman.

"You will give me what I want, Khr-…" he began but was cut off when a lightning bolt flew from nowhere halting him from dragging her to her feet. It knocked him sideways but he kept his feet and he turned to see who the caster was. He was met with another powerful blast of lightening to the chest. He staggered backward as his armor absorbed most of the deadly energy and brought up a barrier to deflect the next attack.

Khrys shielded her eyes from the bright magic and let out a sigh of relief as she recognized the mage attacking Solas. Malcolm, thank the Creators.

Malcolm took in the scene like a seasoned general did a battlefield. The Prince was dying, Khrys seemed okay, and Solas had an arrow in his back. Solas retaliated, answering lightening with lightening. Malcolm moved and it passed him by, hairs stood on end from the static but he fought back.

Malcolm had never encountered a mage of Solas' caliber in combat before, it was lightening against lightening. Solas produced his staff, the ancient thing Solas had carried since the day she met him but Malcolm had never carried one. Khrys had never seen a mage so adept at casting without one. Solas' Staff of Ice didn't last long as Malcolm knocked it away from him and sent it clattering over the edge of the broken tower.

Now it was down to casting. Ice and lightening flew from Solas' hands and the whole ruin rumbled with the force power that Malcolm commanded. Malcolm was careful, he learned in the Deep Roads that force wasn't suited everywhere and he could do Solas' job for him if he dropped the tower on their heads. What force he did use was controlled, little bits to trap Solas but the Arlathan Mage was better than anyone he'd ever seen. The battle was pitched and dire, Malcolm knew if he took too long Sebastian would die, if he wasn't dead already.

Khrys watched the two of them fight, she'd never seen Malcolm in actual combat against a worthy opponent. It was something to watch to be honest, no staff just his ability to cast. She watched Solas cast his best party trick, turning people to stone and she was horrified as Malcolm froze in his tracks. In that moment Malcolm's body flashed blue and the crackle of Fade magic filled the air. Her brow furrowed when she saw the black smoke billowing from…Malcolm. A blue pulse of some type of magic burst from Malcolm's hands, he broke the spell and the force of the blast sent Solas backward into the intact section of the tower's broken wall. Khrys blinked, she'd seen Fenris do a Spirit Pulse before but not so devastating.

Khrys had never heard Solas scream in pain like she heard now. He was slammed into the ruin wall and caused the arrow to snap off and twist into his back more. Solas wasn't sure what that was and slowly collected himself and got to his feet.

Solas cursed and lamented the pain he was feeling. That was different. Very different. Solas studied the young man before him, who the hell was this, tall and hooded with the look of a battlemage? There was something else about him too, something familiar but not in the sense that they were acquainted…the Fade…that was the connection. "You harbor a spirit," he announced as he quickly figured it out. "Who are you?"

"I am Malcolm Hawke and you will feel Justice's burn," Malcolm replied but his voice wasn't the voice that Khrys had heard all his life. It was the voice of possession. The same voice she'd heard from Anders all those years ago.

Khrys clearly saw the blue crackles and the tell-tale glow of Fade blue in Malcolm's eyes. "Holy shit," she thought her head spinning. Malcolm…was an abomination? And the words he said, she'd heard them before, or some variation from his father. It was too much. Too overwhelming.

Malcolm attacked again this time with a force power, a small pull of the abyss to trap him. Solas was able to counter with a stone fist and hit Malcolm in the abdomen knocking him off his feet and the wind out of him. The Fade crackled again and Solas took a few moments to try to figure out just how he was using the Spirit, it didn't seem correct. The two powers collided again as Malcolm recovered quicker than he thought. The tower shook as their magic met with incredible force.

Solas was tired of being matched, this needed to end sooner rather than later so he tried something else, Dispel. He cast it and the green aura surrounded Malcolm. Malcolm felt his magic vanish like he'd been hit with magebane and dropped to one knee disoriented by the power drain. He looked up at the ancient Elf, pure defiance. The spirit still showed but Solas wasn't sure what exactly he was looking at. If it was a Spirit, what was it? How was he able to use it like he was? One thing he did know was how powerful this young man was, he didn't carry a staff but he was extremely powerful, by far the most powerful mage he'd met since he woke from his long sleep. "You are truly talented, Malcolm Hawke." And how did he resist being turned to stone?

Malcolm may not have the magic anymore thanks to the spell but he wasn't finished. "You will never harm anyone else ever again." Malcolm said but his voice still distorted sounding like possessed mage. He pulled the daggers from under the cloak and attacked.

Solas was more than a little surprised at that. It wasn't every day a mage also turned out to be a rogue. Dispel canceled his magic but it wouldn't last forever, however the spirit within was alive and kicking. Malcolm moved like a cat, quick and light on his feet, a whirling dervish of Antivan Slashers. Solas didn't have anything for this, he wasn't a swordsman and even if he was he didn't have one. All he had was a blade on his gauntlet. He blocked and channeled power, zapped him with lightening, and blocked again this time managing to slash Malcolm across the face, a swipe diagonal across his mouth. The opportunity for a hit cost Solas and Malcolm's left blade found an opening in Solas' side under his ribcage. The battlemage didn't hesitate and rammed it home.

Solas barked in pain but he wasn't going to be so easy to kill. He wasn't going to die here in a scrap with a mage that was an infant compared to him. He tried to use the orange magic to invade his mind but the Spirit denied him entry with a spectacular Spirit Pulse. The force of the blast did the same thing as it did earlier only this time Solas didn't find the wall of the ruin he was just blow off it completely. Solas hit the stone 40 feet down and had to take a moment to collect himself before slowly moving. He pulled the dagger from his right side with a painful cry. Everything hurt and he shrouded himself in a Fade Cloak. He needed to retreat.

Khrys wasn't sure how to feel, she wasn't sure how to look at Malcolm now and her expression showed. She watched Malcolm stumble over to them and became acutely aware of the dead Prince in her lap, his blue eyes still open and blood all over his face and once pristine armor. Malcolm glanced briefly at her but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Was he ashamed? Or was he worried?

She snapped back to Sebastian. "He's dead," she managed out, her voice broken but white creation magic came from Malcolm's hands.

"Not if I can help it," he replied only it wasn't Malcolm's voice. It was a spirits voice. He crackled blue again and the Fade pulled with power. Khrys' hairs stood on end at the magic that charged the area.

Sebastian was dead, she saw the life leave him. All Malcolm was doing now was mending flesh. You couldn't heal the dead, but the magic Malcolm was pouring into the healing was unlike anything she'd ever felt. She could feel the magic, it flooded her senses, the only mage she'd ever felt the same magic from was Solas. With a great flash of light from Malcolm's hands and into the Prince, Sebastian's back arched like he'd been shocked and he gasped sucking in a huge gulp of air.

Khrys shrieked, startled by the dead man now breathing. "Creators, Sebastian," she breathed and put her hand on his face to calm him. "It's alright, Sebastian, be calm," she coached, hollow words given the fact that she was ready to panic as well. What had Malcolm just done? This wasn't Necromancy. Sebastian was healed and very much alive.

Malcolm had gone pale and slumped on his knees; he'd used more mana in the past five minute than he had in his whole life.

"What…what happened?" Sebastian asked as he began to gather his wits, he tasted blood and his face and neck felt sticky. He remembered Solas sticking him. He remembered the feeling of death. He saw his life flash before his eyes and then he was back.

"You were dead, Prince," Malcolm told him, he was so tired all he wanted to do was sleep. "And now you're not."


They made camp in the same place they had the previous night, when Malcolm and Sebastian woke to find her gone they didn't bother to pack out. Malcolm sensed the power she had and he and Sebastian followed it. Malcolm recovered his wayward blade and didn't see Solas anywhere, the Mage ran, it felt good to stick it to him for once.

No one really spoke, Malcolm didn't look good and Sebastian was having a crisis of faith. Malcolm had downed two lyrium potions and still looked awful. He passed out as soon as his head hit the bedroll. Sebastian's bedroll but it was the first one he found. Khrys understood the feeling, she'd been so drained of mana before that lyrium potions didn't even help. The young man just needed to rest.

Sebastian had removed his blood stained armor and went to the stream they camped by to clean himself up. When Khrys found him he was on one knee praying.

"My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within your grace touch me with fire that I be cleansed tell me I have sung to your approval. O Maker, hear my cry," Khrys felt compelled to finish the passage with him, Sebastian was a religious man he had just died and then been resurrected. She spoke with him. "Seat me by your side in death make me one within your glory and let the world once more see your favor for you are the fire at the heart of the world and comfort is only yours to give."

Sebastian didn't object to her praying with him, in fact he welcomed it. "You know the Chant?"

Khrys' eyes followed him as he rose to his full height, most of the blood had been cleaned away but there were still streaks of it on his bare chest. He took his undershirt off to wash it and it was currently hanging in the tree. "Yes," she answered and Sebastian looked surprised.

"I thought you didn't believe," he sounded surprised. That was true, Khrys still followed the Elven Gods despite what Solas had told her. It was hard to just shed her entire belief system just because her mad lover told her it was all a lie.

She shrugged taking the wet rag from the log it was sitting on and wringing it out. "I don't," she answered and approached him. Sebastian had never liked that answer but it was the first time he hadn't winced when she said it. "But I'm the Herald of Andraste; it made sense for me to learn it." Khrys pressed the wet cloth to the streaks of blood on his chest. The Prince blushed, deeply. "Turn around."

The bashful Prince's blushing deepened. "What?"

She laughed quietly. "Turn. You missed your back." Sebastian almost didn't, this wasn't proper, Michel would have his head and Evelyn would too, but he did a she asked. There was a long awkward silence as the Inquisitor cleaned the blood of his back. "Are you alright?" she asked after long minutes of nothing but the breeze in the trees.

The Prince took a moment to respond. "I…I died, Khrys." It was rare for him to be so informal with her.

"I know," she replied with her kind empathetic tone. She saw the life leave him; she could still see the fear in his eyes. Those kind blue eyes filled with fear would haunt her until the day she died.

"I saw my life flash before my eyes," he continued and she dropped the rag on the log and appeared in front of him, her task complete. "Then I died. But I didn't see the Maker," his voice started to shake. "I didn't see the Maker, Khrys. Why?" She was Andraste's Herald, maybe she didn't have all the answers but she had to know something.

It hurt her to see him so shaken, nothing could shake Sebastian's beliefs…or so she thought. "I don't know, Sebastian," she answered; there was nothing that she could say to him. There were no words of comfort once your belief system was shattered. He should have been welcomed into the Maker's arms but he said he saw nothing. "Don't let this change your faith."

He'd been trying to do that very thing since they left the tower, it wasn't easy and he was still fighting with it. "I thought he was going to hurt you," he said quietly, now he was referring to Solas. "I couldn't let him do that."

In all of this Khrys did make a mistake, she didn't go with them, she went alone. It satisfied Solas until it all turned upside down but it still placed Sebastian and Malcolm in an impossible position. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "I shouldn't have left you. Things might-…" Sebastian held up a hand to silence her.

"What's done is done," he said trying to push the crisis of faith to the back of his mind. "And Malcolm kicked him in the teeth."

"You should rest." She turned to leave but Sebastian stopped her.

"Will you pray with me?" he asked and Khrys blinked, it wasn't that she didn't like the Chant – some of the passages were actually quite beautiful – or that she didn't believe, she didn't want to make a mockery of it. But she nodded with a kind smile and dropped to one knee beside him.

Together they prayed, Sebastian started it and she recognized the passage and recited it with him. "Who knows me as you do? You have been there since before my first breath. You have seen me when no other would recognize my face. You composed the cadence of my heart. Through blinding mist, I climb a sheer cliff, the summit shrouded in fog, the base endlessly far beneath my feet the Maker is the rock to which I cling."

"Thank you, My Lady Herald," he spoke as she rose to return to camp. If that was what he needed to help him come to terms with what happened than she was happy to accommodate.


Malcolm startled awake and felt disoriented, he heard a fire crackling and felt the presence of another. It was dawn and the sun was barely up but it was light enough that he could see clearly. Sebastian was seated on the log at his feet buckling his armor into place.

"Easy, Son," Sebastian soothed and Malcolm gave him a bleary eyed expression.

He sat up slowly, the events of his impressive fight with Solas all came back to him…everyone knew now. His secret that had been so carefully hidden had been dragged into the light. He healed the slash across his mouth before he slept but he still had blood on his face. Sebastian passed him a skin of water, Malcolm looked better than he had before they made camp but the best description was hungover.

Malcolm accepted it and took big, greedy, gulps. He was thirsty and hungry. He said nothing to Sebastian but he could feel the Prince's eyes on him probably begging the question that he would have if he'd been brought back from the dead.

"You've been keeping secrets, young man," Sebastian said and Malcolm stayed quiet. Khrys shared what she'd seen with Sebastian so the fact that he was possessed and had the ability to bring people back from the dead was common knowledge now. "Get your wits about you, Khrys wanted to talk to you," he finished and left him to tend to the animals. Malcolm had lost the trail for Solas the day before and he hadn't been able to pick it up either. Khrys wanted to conduct another search before heading to the rendezvous; they all hoped Fenris and the Orlesian Prince had luck in retrieving Bree.


Malcolm's nerves twisted in knots, the secret he'd kept his entire life was out in the open. Khrys now knew and that worried him. She was a tolerant woman and had always treated him well but the fact of the matter was that even with all the new tolerance for Mages, possession and abominations were still dangerous and feared. He was called an abomination but it wasn't exactly true, he wasn't exactly possessed either. On a scale from Anders to Cole he was somewhere in the middle.

"Khrys," he said making his presence known.

Khrys turned to look at him, she was dressed for travel and the metal of her battlemage armor glinted in the morning sun. Even with the loss of her arm she was still a formidable mage. She looked up, trying to reconcile what she'd seen from him for a few moments before speaking. "Malcolm," she said simply and he gulped. Nerves getting the better of him. If it were anyone else, anyone but her, Dorian, and Bree he wouldn't be so worried. Anyone else he would simply kill and be done with it, not this time. They treated him like family. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The truth was probably the best way to go. "Was necessary," he answered. "My parents feared what would happen if people knew so they told no one."

Khrys struggled with it, possessed mages were dangerous. Like Anders, the internal struggle between a spirit, or demon, and the one it possessed could destroy a lot people's lives. Justice had become Vengeance after being denied its purpose and it nearly destroyed everything. All the time she'd spent with Malcolm…how did she not see it? How did no one see it? "Are you a danger?"

Malcolm moved closer and stood beside her. "I've been this way since before I can remember. I've never been a danger to anyone who didn't ask for it."

"What is it?" she asked referring to the Spirit. What kind of spirit or demon do you harbor?

It wasn't an easy question to answer, he wasn't like his father or any of the other possessed mages people thought about. "I am Justice and I am Malcolm Hawke."

Khrys' mind raced with that answer. It created more questions than answers. Vengeance had left Anders in the Fade at Adamant to allow them to escape the Nightmare. The 'demon' sacrificed itself to save them all. She had more questions, many more questions but she took the answer, she'd have words with Anders and Tess later but what he said didn't quite add up. Malcolm came into his power when he was six; if he was possessed before that it meant that Malcolm may have been something else entirely. "And Sebastian? I watched him die, Malcolm, he was dead." Malcolm looked at the ground. Suddenly all the not quite human ticks and mannerisms became unbelievably clear. "How did you do that? It's not necromancy…he is completely healed."

There was a silence as he thought about how to answer it. Having the spirit within was something that he'd always known. His talent for healing better than his father could was an equal mystery that made Anders blink and stand dumbfounded. "I can't answer that…I don't know," he said finally with an honest teenager shrug. "First time I did it was a few years ago. I thought my Dad was going to have a heart seizure."

"Only Blood Mages and Mortalitasi can bring people back from the dead," she said matter of factly and Malcolm would tend to agree with her.

"Apparently not," he said and couldn't quite decipher her expression, something between curiosity and distrust.

"You, me, and your parents are going to have a nice long sit down when we get back to Skyhold," she said and then turned. "Let's go," she said and moved away from him but Malcolm felt that the relationship he had with her would never be the same again and that scared him.

The camp was easy enough to pack. Sebastian hadn't slept at all so he spent his restless night preparing the leave. He'd saddled Silver, Tem, and Kyp so by the time Khrys was finished having a talk with Malcolm they were ready to leave. His crisis of faith continued but he felt that the simple thank you to Malcolm was woefully inadequate given what had transpired.

"Malcolm," Sebastian began and the young man turned from Kyp. The Prince's faith had been shaken to the very core and he couldn't blame him, "you did well." He continued after a few moments of thought and Malcolm simply listened. "I know you had a secret to protect but you did what you had to do." Sebastian's right hand extended to him in an offer of friendship. Malcolm took it. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. When I return to Starkhaven I will rescind all warrants and bounties on your father. Your family will have no further trouble from me."


Bree wandered. She hadn't seen Solas in several days which were strange given the fact that he always wanted to talk to her. He always offered her a meal and was very kind. She felt that it was almost as if he wanted her to like him. So she wandered. Her chambers were not locked and the first time she encountered his 'guards' she froze in place. The spirits were largely indifferent about her presence so long as she didn't wander too close to where she shouldn't be. They didn't speak to her even when she spoke to them so she shrugged and meandered.

After circling as much of the compound as she could find and not be herded away by a testy spirit she found herself back in the main area where Solas took his meals. She could hear a commotion and found Solas looking rather disheveled…and pissed.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a tone what was without any real concern. She saw the blood on his side that had run down and stained his breeches and guessed that he'd tangled with someone better than he. This was the first time she'd seen him look disheveled. She circled slowly noticing also that he did have a wound on his back, there was blood and an opening where she guessed an arrow had been but it was all healed now.

Solas had been angry, for a while he'd been angry, but in his trek to the Eluvian that would take him from the tower back to his home cooled his anger. He didn't like being so soundly beaten by such a young mage. He knew he was young, he could feel it. The power was there but it didn't have the fine control of a seasoned spell caster and if he was possessed it didn't feel like any possession he'd ever encountered. "Your mother."

Bree's eyebrows shot up. "Mom did this?" Bree had always heard the stories about how talented her mother was in the practice of combat magic but she'd never seen it.

"Her companion," he answered as Bree continued to circle him. "A young mage who called himself Malcolm Hawke." Further reflection told him Malcolm had been present when the Wardens retrieved the Relic. Malcolm's was the unknown face he'd seen in Nathaniel's memories.

Bree stopped moving, surprise clearly written on her face. "Malcolm?" she chortled. "Well, he always did have a talent for destruction," she shrugged and kept moving.

Solas scoffed. She wasn't wrong in that, he was young but he had such a command of Force and Lightening the likes of which he'd never seen. The kid was very talented. "He's also possessed."

At that Bree spun around, the reaction he'd expected. "What?" her expression and tone were confusion and a little shocked. She didn't know and it appeared that Khrys didn't either. He was busy trying not to be killed by the mage in question but he did see a fairly surprised Inquisitor.

"He harbors a spirit," he replied calmly and took a gulp of water from a goblet on the table.

"Lie!" Bree exclaimed. In truth, her head spun, the idea of Malcolm being weak minded enough to allow possession of a demon was impossible. For as young as he was he was still one of the strongest mages she'd ever met.

Solas' annoyance passed. "Ask him."

Bree's glare could have curdled milk. "I can't. I'm here." Solas glowered but nothing more. Even though she was irritating him, as a hostage should, Solas had a very calm manner. "So now that my adopted brother handed you your ass may I please go now?"

"You have a sharp tongue," he replied and stood.

Bree smirked. "Don't want to hear it? Let me go."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I still need you. If your mother refuses to do things the civilized way then we must go uncivilized."

Bree's brow furrowed, Solas' tone changed to something she didn't like. "And what is it exactly that you want?" she asked and he was irritated enough to answer.

"The Relic."

"What Relic?"

"Why do people see fit to lie to me?" he grumbled. "The relic that was taken from the Deep Roads and brought to Skyhold by Nathaniel Howe."

Bree leveled a defiant glare at him. "She's not going to give you the means to destroy the world so either kill me or let me go." Solas blinked.

She confirmed they had it and had apparently realized that it was a Foci. She was also completely right. Khrys would never give it to him. He was going to have to force it. This was the part of his plan that he hoped he wouldn't have to use. He couldn't enter Skyhold due to the blood magic wards and meeting with Khrys went sideways. He needed the Relic, sooner rather than later and fighting with Khrys over it was going to take too long. "I have another plan."

Bree wasn't sure what he was talking but she was certain that she didn't like it. She knew she was to be held as a ransom but clearly that hadn't panned out. He wanted the Relic to complete his mission but no one really knew exactly what the thing did. "What are you talking about?" she asked now becoming nervous about his meaning.

The Relic was the final piece to his plan but he couldn't get to it. If Khrys wouldn't give it to him he'd use Bree to take it. "I must complete my task, da'len, which also means I have to do something that I swore I never would," he said and Bree backed slowly from him. She knew something was about take place that she wasn't going to like.

"Get away from me."

"If your mother will not give me what I want then I need to use you to get I," he said and had backed his prey into a corner. He didn't want to hurt her but he did need to use her.

She was scared now but tried her best to not show it. "What are you going to do?"

"You will be bound to my will and you will bring me the Relic."

The story of the Well of Sorrows came back to her in a storm. "I will not," she snarled back.

His right hand flared with magic and she ducked away but was trapped by his left arm. "You will."

She tried to run but couldn't escape his grasp. "I thought Fen'Harel didn't take slaves," Bree spat with all the venom she could find.

Solas beat the doubt back, he didn't take slaves, he freed them but here he was taking Bree just as his peers did. "It is necessary," he replied but she could hear how torn he was and he seized her. His left hand held the back of her head and his right flared with power near her left temple. "Ir abelas, da'len." He felt her try to use magic but it didn't work, just like Templars he had the ability to dispel the magic. It wasn't easy to do and took a very long time to learn how to do it so deftly.

Bree screamed. The magic printing on her skin was painful but it soothed after a moment, the burning dulled. Her painful cry nearly made him stop, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her but he had no choice, ordinarily this process wasn't painful but he was imprinting this on a very deep level. She'd be his to command and if necessary to control. His vallaslin imprinted and the outline of a half wolf face flashed orange. She collapsed into him and he held her close. "I'm sorry, da'len, there's no other way."

It felt like the side of her face had been branded clean down to the bone but just as quickly as it began the pain subsided. It was a strange feeling being held so closely in his arms, it was caring and gentle, he soothed her but the act made Bree that much more conflicted. Why would he even care to hold her and stroke her hair gently? "What did you do to me?"

"You are bound to my will now, child." Just saying it made him cringe…he hated this…damn them. Damn them all for forcing him to do this. "I'm sorry…there's no other way."


Fenris had never been keen on riding, he did it for speedy transit but he was much more comfortable walking. They landed in Kirkwall and pressed hard in the general direction indicated on the map. Declan scryed to narrow the location for Bree and continued to do so as they went on.

Jean had no idea what to make of Cole but he knew enough to steer clear. Fenris didn't talk at all, the grim determination of a bodyguard sent out away from his charge to rescue the daughter. The Templar was actually not what he had expected. From what he'd gathered, Declan Horne was the best Templar in Skyhold's ranks and one of Khrys' personal guards along with an Orlesian Templar named Gerard who'd stayed behind in Skyhold. He was from Denerim, blonde with a short but full beard, tall, well built, and despite the situation, had a sense of humor.

Declan was prim and proper which reminded Jean of the Chevaliers, and for a Fereldan his manners were impeccable. In the conversation to fill the time Jean found out that Declan was raised in the Chantry which accounted for the manners and that he'd never been assigned to a Circle or either of the Mage Colleges. Before the Mage-Templar War, when he was 18, he was a Mage Hunter responsible for tracking apostates and dragging them back to a Circle or killing them.

After days of long, hard riding the group was now standing before an old Tevinter Outpost in the western Free Marches. Cole cocked his head to it obviously perplexed. "We have been here before," the spirit said. Jean and Declan looked at each other and then to Fenris. The Elf just shrugged and scowled.

Jean's brow furrowed and he asked the hanging question. "What do you mean?"

"The Warden Queen tracked his blood here and found nothing," he answered and sounded relatively normal. Jean said nothing but was able to follow along, Cole was referred to Queen Lydia tracking Solas' blood.

"She's here somewhere," Declan said as the phylactery was still indicating that she was nearby.

"Fortress. Formidable. Focused. Shining beacon of freedom," Cole said quickly as they moved further following Declan. "Raided. Ruined. Razed. Replaced. Revolting."

Jean's furrowed brow deepened. "Anyone have any clue what he's talking about?"

"The outpost," Fenris answered and Jean thought on that.

They followed Declan down the hillside that the outpost was situated on. Jean did notice that the outpost didn't seem to fit quite right on the plateau, it was too small. Cole's words of ruined, razed, and replaced told him that whatever'd stood there before had been far grander.

"There's an entrance," Declan announced when they reached the base of the plateau. It wasn't totally obvious and was obscured by vegetation but Declan had tracked mages through everything there was in Fereldan. He could feel barriers and this was protected by a spirit barrier. "Magic," he began and dismounted pushing his bay Forder out of the way gently. The others did the same. Jean gathered the horses and led the knot of animals away from the entrance. He knew Mau wouldn't stray and would give any uninvited guests holy hell for their trouble.

Declan considered the situation carefully and could tell Fenris was as well. He knew Fenris but didn't know much about the Orlesian Prince beyond he was a seasoned Chevalier. If he dispelled this barrier there was a great possibility that whoever set it would be on them immediately.

After a moment he heard Jean draw his sword. "Dispel it," the Prince said but made it sound subtly like an order. His patience only went so far and he wanted Bree found and returned to safety as quickly as possible. He wasn't naive or careless it was just that his patience was running out but he did his best not to look like an annoyed noble tapping his foot.

Declan didn't take orders from him but in this case he was correct, they'd just have to deal with whatever was on the other side. He looked to Fenris who gave a single nod and took the huge greatsword off his back. Of them all Fenris had killed the most mages, despite his employer he still didn't like them but his hard stance shifted with those who earned his trust and even then he didn't trust them fully. The Templar raised his right hand and channeled his power toward the barrier. The shimmering barrier dropped and the four of them proceeded inside.

Declan led and as anticipated they were attacked. Not by Elves or guards, but by spirits. The same spirits the Inquisitor encountered while uncovering the Dragon's Breath plot, hugely difficult to beat. Declan was encircled in shimmering blue that pulsed outward: cleanse. Anything magical in the area was now hindered severely and when he added a flash of Holy Smite to it Jean, Fenris, and Cole had a much easier time picking the ethereal enemy apart.

Jean thanked his father for the enchanted armor, shield, and sword. His sword had a devastating impact yet the bound spirits that were still the toughest enemies he'd fought in his life. He backed into Declan and for the first time in his life could feel magic. The cleanse permeated his armor, raised the hairs on his skin, and swirled around him. "Cool," he said with a smile and heard Declan's throaty chuckle.

When the dust settled Declan was on one knee resting but getting a reading from the glowing phylactery in his hand. They still hadn't seen anything living but the phylactery was telling them that she was here so they pressed on.

Solas was aware something was very wrong with his sanctuary. As soon as the barrier came down he knew and left Bree in search of the intruders. He heard the combat and readied himself for battle but he never got the chance to fight. He rounded the corner and found the enemy.

Solas prided himself on being able to see things coming, with patience, and meticulous planning being able to roll with the punches was a very handy skill. In short, he didn't get surprised by much. Coming face to face with someone who literally put his hand in his chest most definitely counted as a surprise. This must have been Fenris; the platinum haired, lyrium lined, warrior with his hand in his chest. This was the Lyrium Warrior he'd heard so much about. On any other day he'd love to just talk to him. Even in his time Lyrium Warriors were rare, and now here was one standing before him looking extremely pissed off. Solas took the time to be disgusted by the ancient magic perverted by Tevinter blood mages to turn him into one of the ancient warriors from Arlathan. Given the day he'd had and the surprise from fighting the possessed mage/rogue that literally blew him off a building he just called it a wash.

Damn did this hurt. All he could see was the fierce, determined glare from the Elf's penetrating green eyes. There was a Templar with him, the young man he decked with his staff in Orlais, and…Cole. The Templar was effective and blocked his magic

"Where is she?" Fenris demanded his tone a ferocious growl that could chill bone.

Solas' mind was still in spin mode but his demand registered after a moment, he was looking for Bree and unless a miracle happened he was going to get her. He attempted to speak but nothing came up but an undignified gasp of pain. "Fenris?" he heard Bree breathe out in a tone of relief.

Fenris's voice made her heart race. He could only be here for one reason: to save her. Bree came around the same corner as Solas had and was immediately snatched by Jean before she realized who else was actually there. She was surprised to see him and argued quietly with his protective stance, not wanting to hide behind him.

Solas took advantage of her arrival and his eyes flashed blue. Bree screamed and his mark lit up like a burn on her face. The half wolf face was unmistakable. "Kill me and she dies," Solas warned, the hand stuck in his chest was alarming but he wasn't going to go quietly.

The room froze. Jean had his left arm around her waist to steady her and she nearly collapsed back into him. Declan was confused, no mage should be able to cast while his power cleansed the area of magic.

"She is of my love. I must not fail. Not proud of it," Cole rattled off the feeling from Solas and looked to Fenris. "He will kill her."

Fenris didn't like being forced to back off. He had him. He had him. Right now, right in front of him, completely vulnerable but he couldn't risk Bree's life. More of the bound guardians were coming and they needed to leave. He released the mage and punched him hard in the face knocking him back. Bree howled and upset Cole.

"Bound to him. Bound to his will. I am his now," Cole said and they began to leave the way they came in. Declan covered them. The Templar was unwilling to turn his back to the mage but so far Solas was slow to get up.

"Declan, let's go!" he heard Jean shout as Fenris led them out. Seeing Fenris in action was like watching a master dancer. His spirit pulse devastated the enemy and his Blade of Mercy matched it. He cleared the path with large, precise, almost effortless swings. Cole bounced around the spirits he'd faced before while chasing Solas through the Mountain Temples, they were difficult to beat but it could be done.

Declan trotted behind Jean and Bree, the Templar was tiring and it was beginning to show. He pulsed a Holy Smite and the descending Spirits took significant damage. Fire exploded from Bree's hands catching two guardians in the blaze. Now that there was a mage in the party Declan had to remember that and not cancel her magic on accident.

The escape was easier than expected despite fighting several spirits on the way out. Declan was tired but still doing everything he could to prevent enemy magic and weakening the attacking spirits. On the way out Bree spun and conjured the biggest firestorm anyone of them had seen turning the entrance hall into a raging inferno.


They rode fast and hard away from the outpost trying to put as much distance between them and Solas as possible. They only stopped when they realized the horses could go no further without a rest or they'd be afoot for the rest of the trip back to Skyhold.

The camp was made nearly four hours south back the way that they'd come. Declan perked up after a dose of lyrium but he still looked tired, they all looked tired except for Cole. Fenris stood guard as Declan, tired though he was, found a deer. The Templar dressed it and cooked it. Cole kept looking at Bree. It was almost as though he wanted to ask her a question but never did so he stood the watch along with Fenris. Bree had spent the long four hours doubled on Mau; the testy warhorse seemed agitated by the second passenger but behaved well enough. She sat in front of Jean who had his arms around her in the manly protective way. It made her smile. No one spoke until camp was made and even then no one wanted to start the conversation. They were all instead trying to come up with some sort of explanation that would need to told to Khrys about why Fenris could have killed Solas right then and there but didn't.

While Declan cooked the Deer Bree found herself curled up next to Jean. She'd been worried about him the entire time she was with Solas. He told her that the Prince was still alive but considering the source she took it with a grain of salt. Having him there made her happy, she felt safe, all things considered and she curled under his cape while leaning on the right side of his chest.

Jean was a gentleman and enjoyed sitting with her. Whatever she wanted he let her do and chuckled when she snuggled up on him. He enjoyed the feeling of her there but he didn't enjoy the equal measure glowers from across the camp from Fenris and Declan. It comforted him to know that at the very least he had Michel's blessing and probably Khrys'. Dorian would kill him. He tried not to think of that, that conversation was going to be ugly, instead he shifted his thoughts to her. She was all he cared about.

"That'll never happen again," Jean said softly as her head was on his chest. "I swear it."

Bree craned her head back. "It wasn't your fault, Jean."

He looked down at her. "Regardless. I won't let anyone hurt you again."

She blushed when he said it. It was something that she would read in a romance novel, that fairy tale love story she indulged in reading and had a whole bookshelf of. A smile spread across her face as she craned as far up as she could. It was obvious she wanted to kiss him and he obliged by leaning down. He had to block out the look from Declan across the way. He put his left hand on her cheek gently as he introduced tongue and deepened the kiss.

The sound of a throat clearing, loud and pointedly, broke them apart. Bree blushed deeply like a teenager with her crush. Jean glared but his flushed cheeks were a giveaway. "I'm gonna stop that right there," Declan said sternly ignoring the blushing and the glaring. "Personally it's none of my business but she's my charge and I don't value being killed by the Inquisitor or Lord Dorian." Bree giggled like a young girl in love. Jean glared behind the mask; it was plainly evident, and muttered in Orlesian. "I speak Orlesian, Prince," Declan reminded and Jean finished his comment unabashed, something along the line of mind your own business. Declan only chuckled, it was all annoyed insults and cursing.

"No fighting, Gentlemen," Bree chuckled.


Bree looked at her reflection in the still pool of water, the mark Solas gave her wasn't visible like a vallaslin was but she knew it was there. She could feel it under her skin like it was burned into her bone. By the reaction of Jean and Cole when Solas threatened her to save himself it was visible when he wanted it so. She touched her temple expecting it to hurt like a burn but it didn't and she swallowed the nerves she felt. How was she going to explain this? Could he control her? Questions that she didn't know if she could answer and it scared her. She dipped her hands in the pool and splashed the cool water on her face. When she was ready she stood letting the light breeze run across her face with her eyes closed.

"Sun-lit fire waging a war against the Wolf," Cole said appearing from nowhere next to her.

She was used to him materializing out of thin air but it was no less unnerving even after all these years. Bree decoded his words with practiced ease. To him, she was bright as the sun and the Wolf was easy to put together. "I don't know what he did to me," she said quietly turning to face the spirit of compassion.

"He bound you as Mythal did to Morrigan. His will is yours now but you fight it. When he takes control you will not be able to fight," Cole replied. The part about being bound to his will she knew but she wasn't sure what all it entailed. No matter what it was she was pretty sure she didn't like it.

"I don't know what to do, Cole," she said and the spirit gave her the childlike curious cock of his head. "What do I do?"

"I don't know," he answered. The spirit sounded particularly coherent which was normal when he spoke to her. "Solas freed slaves he never took them."

She'd heard the stories and movement caught her eye. It was Jean, looking dashing even though he'd slept on the ground. "Bree," he began hoping he didn't interrupt anything. He was still not sure what to make of Cole but he was handy in a fight. "My apologies, we're ready to go."

The fear and worry she'd been feeling disappeared when she saw him and a warm smile appeared. "Thank you."

Cole was bombed by the feelings from both of them. "Radiant. Rom-…"

"Cole," Bree warned and he fell silent with a knowing smile on his face before disappearing.

Jean's brow furrowed as the spirit disappeared from sight. "I'm never going to understand him am I?"

Bree chuckled and moved to him. "Probably not," she smiled sweetly as he took her hand. "Why did you come for me? You rode across the country with people you don't even know to get me."

He tucked a lock of black hair behind her right ear and couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't come across as overly romantic. "Because it's you," he said after a moment. Bree blinked not sure what to think of that. "I failed to protect you the first time and that will never happen again," he kissed the back of the hand that had his ring on it.


Jean attempted to help Bree into his saddle but before he could say 'let me help you' she was already up. "I'll walk for a bit. Don't want to tire him out carrying both of us." Bree shrugged and settled into the seat comfortably.

"You should ride, Prince," Declan called, "we need to get to Kirkwall and we're already three days behind our estimated rendezvous." Jean nodded and stepped away from Mau to converse with Declan and Fenris on the route.

Mau pinned his ears, shook his head, half reared, and hopped agitated that his master was on the ground while someone else was on his back. Bree gathered the reins and corrected the moody stallion firmly with a bark. Mau ended with his head up and turned slightly to the left practically daring her. She pointed a finger at him and told him to behave.

The smile that spread across his face was impossible to hide and he felt a heavy hand land on his left shoulder. "She is lovely, is she not?" Declan said with a chuckle. The kind of chuckle that is heard when brothers or comrades know that one of the other comrades is in love.

Jean didn't answer he couldn't help but smile, she was so much better than any Orlesian wallflower at court. "Lovely. Lively. Ma bichette," Cole said suddenly appearing to his right. "You love her," he added and Jean stayed quiet. He honestly had no idea how to respond but Cole didn't seem offended or like he was even needed any type of reply. "Would you like to know what she thinks of you?"

"Yes!" he thought first. "No," he lied and Cole seemed to see the conflict within giving him a slight smile and single barely audible snort.

"You should," he said and Jean lingered both not sure how to talk to him or how to end the conversation. He did want to know what she thought of him but it was much more fun to ask her. He simply walked away and Cole's smile remained. He'd known Bree her whole life and could see into Jean's heart. He was a good man.

"Did you win the standoff?" Jean asked Bree referring to the tense way Mau looked.

Her giggle was delightful to him. Jean was a handsome man and she was curious to know what he looked like without that mask but his tall and broad build coupled with his dashing smile made her tingle. "I like horses with spirit," she replied sweetly.

"He doesn't have spirit he's just mean," he corrected easily and put his foot in the stirrup effortlessly pulling himself into the saddle behind her. The display of strength and agility made Bree blush.


Kirkwall hadn't changed at all, minus the presence of Sebastian's troops. The Prince had honored the decree from the Inquisitor and his troops were out of Kirkwall in less than six months. Being back in Kirkwall was strange, very strange. People stared and sneered at the city state's former de facto ruler. Sebastian ignored it; he would be back when the city fell apart again. That was its perpetual cycle. Varric was less than thrilled to see the Prince return but muddled through it.

"Choir boy, if you try to conquer something I'll drown you in the harbor." Varric warned but Sebastian didn't respond. Varric observed the group, he didn't know what they'd been through but he knew it wasn't good. Sebastian, who had always been quiet but easily baited by Varric and Anders, didn't seem like himself. For one he was back in Kirkwall, he supervised the withdrawal of the last of his soldiers and hadn't been back since. He also seemed shaken, something that no one ever saw from him. Varric had only seen him shaken once, when the Chantry was destroyed.

Khrys waved off Varric's puzzled expression so he didn't press further. Whatever happened out there must have been big.

Varric set them up in the Keep. With Sebastian was Khrys, his friend and someone with luck worse than Hawke's and that was hard to do. She looked dejected and it didn't escape him that Bree was not with them. Anders' son looked as strange as he always had. He was a good young man and so far was like his father in his sense of humor. Malcolm was a nice blend of Tess and Anders but there was always something about him that was off. "Did you kill him?" Varric asked and Khrys shook her head. "Well, that's unfortunate."

"Did Fenris come back?" she asked and Varric shook his head.

"Not yet."

Much like the several weeks Khrys didn't sleep well, she worried about Solas, about Bree, about everything. Malcolm's revelation was still not entirely settled and she'd have words with Anders and Tess later, Sebastian was dramatically different since his brush with death and shaken beliefs. She missed Michel and longed for his kiss, his touch, his embrace.

A knock on her door startled her awake. "What?" she asked hurriedly still not fully awake.

It was Varric. "Fenris is back."


Hightown had way too many stairs and the tired legs of those who had been in a saddle for the past several hours caused everyone but Cole to complain while they were on their way up to the Viscount's Keep. It reminded Bree of Skyhold and she couldn't wait to go home.

"Mama!" she called and found herself embraced in a hug with her.

"Thank the Gods you're safe," Khrys said and hugged her tightly. "Did he hurt you?" It felt wrong to ask that. Solas, to this day, had never hurt her.

Bree took a step back from her and gravitated to Jean, he'd spent all this time on the road with her as her protector. As a mage she didn't really need the protection but having him near made her feel good. The Orlesian Prince was fierce but at the same time extremely genuine and kind. "No," she answered but she still wasn't sure what to say about his 'binding'. So far she didn't feel any different, the only change she'd ever felt was when he threatened to kill her and the mark lit up. She needed to talk to Morrigan.

Everyone was exhausted, Sebastian and Malcolm included. They had joined them looking like anyone should in the middle of the night and quietly observed. Malcolm didn't make much eye contact with Declan, Fenris, or Bree. He did notice Bree giving him a very curious look.

Varric let them know that rooms had been made available for everyone to get some sleep, wash up, or get something to eat if they wanted. Khrys noticed the hand holding between Bree and Jean causing her to smile slightly. She didn't want her daughter to leave her sight but gave the girl her space; they'd all talk more in the morning.

Bree had taken a bath and when she was finished she went to Malcolm's room rather than her own. Solas' declaration that he was possessed made her curious and seeing his behavior earlier confirmed that there was some truth to it. She tapped on the door and after a moment it opened. Malcolm blinked and his nervous expression abated as he was just happy to see her. "Bree," he breathed and pulled her into a hug. She was safe. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"You too," she smiled. Malcolm was as close as she came to having a brother and his protective hug made her smile.

"Did he hurt you?"

Bree was growing tired of that question and she still didn't quite know how to answer it. "I don't know," she said. "I'm actually more interested in the rumors I've heard about you." For the first time since she could remember she saw him shy away, he turned his back and she closed the door behind her. "Why didn't you say anything? I've known you since I was 7."

The room filled with the feeling of magic, she was sensitive to the Fade and could feel it come alive. Malcolm turned to her, looking like a possessed mage. She'd never feared him a day in her life but seeing him like that was unsettling. The eyes reminded her of Solas and she couldn't help but let the uncertainty show. Malcolm saw it. "For that look on your face now."

Bree was mortified and stepped toward him. She could never be ashamed of him or afraid of him. "Mal, I'm sorry, I didn't me-…"

Malcolm held up his hand. "It's fine," he cut her off. Hearing the demonic voice was unsettling but he was her best friend, her brother. Malcolm had always been powerful and dangerous, but she'd never feared him before and wasn't going to start now.

"What's it like?" she asked after an awkward moment. "To be possessed?"

Malcolm sighed and turned away from her gesturing for her to sit down. "I'm not possessed," he answered. "I'm something else." The expression on her face told him that there was a further explanation needed. "I can't really explain it. My father was different, he and the spirit couldn't reconcile. I've been like this since I was a child, whatever the spirit was before we're one in the same now."

She sat down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "You can always trust me, Brother," she said and he smiled looking down at her hand, the ring peaked his curiosity.

The demon retreated, giving back the side of him that everyone knew. "Orlesian ring…something you want to tell me?" he asked holding her hand in his and studying the ring.

She giggled. "Jealous?"

Malcolm made a face and released her hand. "Please," he thought of Lily, he hadn't seen her in months then shook the thought away. "I think you should go to bed…your Prince must be waiting."

He was teasing her and she slapped his shoulder. "He has been nothing but a gentleman," she said and stood moving to leave.

"Ahh…better go and corrupt him."

She rolled her eyes and couldn't help but blush at the insinuation. "Goodnight, Malcolm."


The next morning saw everyone as well rested as they could be. It felt good have a nice hot bath and sleep in a bed, now they got breakfast. Varric was a good host and had arranged everything; he even managed to be pleasant with Sebastian. The fact that Sebastian still seemed shaken was very strange to Varric until he heard what happened. Malcolm was not only a possessed mage but had a talent no other Spirit Healer could claim. Varric felt a sense of pride for Malcolm, he'd always been a good kid, and understood Sebastian's behavior, his faith had been shaken.

There was an awkward silence around the table. These were very different people that were united in a mission to help one of their own. Khrys had an explosive meeting with Solas that revealed and confirmed some of his intentions, Bree had even more insight into his intentions, and the biggest reveal was Malcolm. Everyone at the table heard the story: Malcolm was an abomination, of a sort, and also appeared able heal death. Bree sat with Jean and the Prince was the very image of propriety and etiquette with her. Malcolm sat on the other side of her and tried his best to look like the confident mage he always had been but the steady look from Declan and Fenris made him uncomfortable. Fenris, who had always been a friend to him despite his aversion to mages, looked at him with disdain and Declan gave him the wary look that Templars gave mages they didn't trust. The obvious distrust from those who had trusted him before hurt.

Malcolm wanted to go home, back to the Wilds where they knew him as a powerful mage and healer, someone who protected them like he would his own family. The Chasind were his family, he loved one, he wanted to go home.

"You alright, Kid?" Varric asked Malcolm who stood by himself watching the horses and items being loaded onto the ship they were about to depart on.

"They don't trust me anymore," he lamented after a minute. "Even Khrys."

"Look, Kid, your Dad was troubled and I understand that what he did he wasn't necessarily in control of…but you…as long as I've known you you've never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. And if you've been like this since you were a kid then we all owe you an apology for never noticing and a thank you for not being homicidal." Malcolm smiled and laughed softly. "There see…I made you laugh."

Malcolm chuckled again and looked down at the Dwarf. "Thank you, Varric, and you have nothing to apologize to me for," he said offering his hand.

Varric shook it firmly. "You're always welcome here, Kiddo, any time you need a safe place." Malcolm had to take his leave as the last of the passengers were loaded and gave Varric a very Antivan bow and smirk. Varric rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for your words, Viscount Varric," he said with the deep bow and then left to Varric muttering his annoyance to his overblown exit.


Note: So this was a pretty big reveal. Malcolm's little secret has been waiting in the wings for a while and I tried to seed little hints along the way. The music for this chapter are Beauty of the Beast by Nightwish for Solas and Khrys and The Devil and the Huntsman by Daniel Pemberton (the version from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword) for the fight scene.