AUTHOR'S NOTE: SHOUT OUTS GO OUT TO: Pokemon-Ranger-Aiko, Blaufeder, izanarukami818, and all you other awesome people who have been so supportive of our story!
Chapter 16:
Mahvir felt drained by the time they arrived in Denerim. He had sped up the trip there by warping time around them. It was near sunset by the end of the week when they arrived in the city. Despite the fact he knew he wouldn't sleep this night, he was glad the trip was over.
The carriage jolted to a stop. The sounds of Cullen and Vir talking could be heard now. It seemed the two were getting along now.
"Maker must have done a miracle, they stopped trying to kill each other," Franne smirked.
"I still can't believe they bickered the whole way here," Nimwen chuckled.
The redhead shrugged. "Men, what can you do?"
Mahvir blinked. He was going to pretend he didn't hear that. Instead he slipped out of the carriage and held out his hand. "My ladies?" he asked with a slight bow of his head.
"A gentleman, what a rare specimen," Franne joked.
"Maybe you just don't know where to look for them," Nimwen quipped.
"You wound me, madame, and I already snagged one," Franne replied as she took Mahvir's hand.
Mahvir helped her down. "Perhaps, it is just me being old fashioned," he teased.
"Me now!" Lorien called out as she scrambled in her seat.
"Of course, the princess next." Mahvir knelt down, hiding a wince behind a smile as he held out his hand to Lorien.
"We here?" Lorien asked as she grabbed his hand.
"That's right, da'len, we're in Denerim," Nimwen said.
Mahvir picked up Lorien with his other hand and placed her on the ground. "Now, please don't run off, no matter how curious you are about what's going on," he told her.
"Woah, look this place," Lori gasped. Her little mouth hung open as she took in the city.
"You listen to what Mahvir said," Nimwen warned the girl. "We agree no running off, remember?"
"Big dog!" Lorien yelled, pointing to a dog statue.
"Yes, that is a mabari," Mahvir told her. "They're very popular here." He pulled himself to his feet then picked up Lorien so she wouldn't run off. She would soon be too big for him to lift. It was already becoming a struggle for him.
"Cullen's got one," Franne said. "I'm fairly sure he wants to breed a legion of them. Not that I'd mind. Kids and dogs go together like ham and cheese."
"They remind me of halla," Nimwen added. "They understand more than the average creature, and when treated like equals they show an unmatched loyalty."
Ham and cheese? Mahvir withheld making a face at the idea. "I think I would take a halla over a dog," he muttered.
"Is everyone ready to head inside?" Cullen asked as he and Vir joined the others.
Franne scoffed. "We only got here, can't we take a moment to breathe?"
"I would have assumed you'd rather breathe inside where you could be sitting," Cullen replied.
Mahvir shook his head and looked at Lorien. "I think Cullen is a little worried, what do you think, sister?"
"I wanna mabby," Lori responded.
A soft chuckle escaped Mahvir. "I think that is up to your mamae." He looked at Nimwen. "I have Lorien. Sorry I can't be much aid with the bags."
"I can help!" Vir straightened, eyes bright.
"We'll all help," Nimwen added. She looked down at Lorien. "Da'len, you stay with Mahvir, all right?"
"Okay." Lorien nodded.
Mahvir looked out over the market, his eyes narrowed. Solas would have entered the city by now. This meant his spies would be combing the city for information about any ancient elvhen ruins. Mahvir shook his head and turned back to the wagon. Still holding Lorien, he limped after the others towards where they'd be staying.
The night passed as most did, with Mahvir haunted by images of the past instead of dreams. He had woken and moved out of his room. Instead of sleeping, he was in the main part of their chambers. A warm cup of strong, black tea rested beside his hand. A pair of spectacles on his face several lenses placed down to magnify the wooden wolf. He had pulled out several vials of paint and his brushes. The wolf was almost complete. Now, all that remained was painting it.
"Can't sleep?"
"Morning, Nimwen," Mahvir greeted her without looking away from his work. He dipped the brush into a tan colored paint before moving the tip in careful motions over the wood.
He heard Nimwen take a seat across from him. "It looks wonderful," she said. "Are those the colors you're painting it?"
Mahvir looked up at her. He moved several switches on the spectacles so he could see her. Then he glanced at the paints. There were several, three of which were used for the mouth of the wolf which opened.
"Yes." He lifted the cup of tea and took a careful sip of the warm liquid.
Nimwen raised a brow. "You like tea?"
He smiled around the cup before he lowered it. "I like strong, black teas, yes. Though, I understand the shock." Mahvir chuckled. "Try to feed Solas this and his face would twist into one of complete horror and disgust."
Nimwen bowed her head as she snorted. "Happy to see you're on my side," she grinned. "Let's hope Lori likes it. He'll be outnumbered."
"I doubt Lorien will like tea, sadly she will take more after Solas in such matters. I fear the love of tea has a requirement of not being a dreamer in this family."
"I suppose-wait, what?" Nimwen blinked. "What did you say?"
"Ir abelas." Mahvir winced. "I sometimes forget you're knowledge of Solas's side of the family is limited. Lorien will inherit Solas's ability to enter the Fade as she dreams. Most elvhen of our bloodline would be considered dreamers in this day in age. Since the Fade was as natural as the wind during that time, it is natural Lorien would have a stronger connection to it given her father is an ancient elf." Mahvir paused then sighed. "She comes from the oldest line of elvhen if you must know."
Nimwen stared silently at Mahvir, as if taking this all in. Then, she reached over and grabbed his cup of tea, taking a gulp before setting it back down. "Ir abelas, I needed that," she sighed. She looked at Mahvir, gaze serious. "Tell me what I need to know. I've heard of the dangers Dreamer children face, and I need to know what I can do to help her."
"I can't tell you," Mahvir stated as he set down the paint brush. "I know little of the Fade in this age, Nimwen. I've always been the outcast of our family. In this day in age, I am little better than a tranquil. " He folded his hands together. "What I can tell you, is that Solas will most likely be back in Lorien's life by the time she awakens to her gifts. He will be able to guide her. And you can still aid her through the use of Lyrium to enter the Fade. I fear my familiarity with this subject is lacking. I can search for more answers if you so wish, but it will take a few hours for me to gather the information for you."
"Ma serannas. You've done so much for us as it is," Nimwen replied. She glanced down at the toy wolf and a small smile graced her lips. "She will love it. A golden wolf. I don't think I've ever seen such a thing before."
"Shame. There was a pack of multicolored wolves I once saw. The one of pure white was the most beautiful to behold." Mahvir sighed and looked at the toy as well. "For what it's worth, you are family, Nimwen. I will do what I can while I can." He looked back at her. "Understand, before Solas and I had our differences, our family was very close. While he and his brother butted heads a lot, they were still close. There are only two people I know of who manage to make Elgar'nan smile and they are Mythal and Solas. Though, now, Elgar'nan would be more likely to behead Solas if they ever met again and the same would go for Solas trying to behead Elgar'nan." He smiled at Nimwen. "You could have chosen a less complex family to become a part of," he teased.
"Now, where's the fun in that?" she teased. She stood up. "I'm going to check on Lori. Creators know, she's probably up already ready to tear the inn apart." As she walked passed him, she patted his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.
Mahvir looked at the toy. "The fun, indeed." He shook his head and clicked the lenses back into place. If she actually met the others… Perhaps, it was for the best. While they weren't the monsters Solas viewed them as, they also weren't the saints the People worshiped either. They were like anyone else, only ancient, powerful, and locked in their ways. "Much like Solas and I are locked into ours," he whispered.
Yes, in the end he was too old as well to change his ways. Solas cared about people, he always would and always had. It was this which would aid Nimwen in convincing him to stop this madness. This and the fact before too long he would met his daughter.
Mahvir's hand froze mid stroke. His heart twisted in jealousy but not towards his half-sister. He had seen all his half siblings receive love and acceptance to no longer care they did and he remained forgotten. It was a jealousy towards Solas and the fact Solas had a family. Yet, Mahvir couldn't complain either. He had raised many of the People.
The emotion eased back becoming a echo in the past. Yes, he had all he needed. One such child lived here in the city and- Mahvir shut out the images of the future. He didn't want to see it again. The dull reminder he remained unaffected by the quickening the Veil had caused.
He started to pick up his mess so Lorien wouldn't see the wolf. He had just finished wrapping the wolf when Nimwen reappeared with Lorien. "Good morning, Princess Lorien," Mahvir greeted her. He was still wearing his funny spectacles.
"What those? You look funny," Lorien giggled as she tried squirming out of Nimwen's hold. The girl still wore her nightgown and her long hair was like a yellow tumbleweed atop her head.
"All the better to see you by." Mahvir smiled at her. "In truth, they help with my work." He removed the glasses and tucked them into a wooden case he had made.
"I try?" Lorien asked, hands outstretched.
"I fear not, Princess. Not unless you don't want your birthday gift completed."
Lorien gasp, eyes wide. "What's it? What's it?"
"Now, Lori, it's not much of a surprise if he tells you," Nimwen reminded her.
"I wanna know, big brother!"
Mahvir placed a figure over his lips. "Ir abelas, Princess. The wait is what makes gifts great."
Lori pouted. "No fair."
"Calm down, da'len. Now, let's try and tame this beast," Nimwen said, no doubt referring to the girl's tangled hair.
Mahvir chuckled. "I wish you luck, Nimwen." He lifted the tea cup and stood. "I am going to get another cup, would you like one as well?" Mahvir asked with a look at Nimwen.
"I would, ma serannas," the woman replied, pulling a comb from her robe pocket.
"All right." Mahvir moved to where the pot was. The tea was still warm, not as hot as it had been when he had first made it, but still warm enough not to be nasty. He pulled out another cup and poured the tea into it. He was careful not to spill any as he limped back over to the table. "Here you are." He placed the cup before Nimwen.
"Thanks." Nimwen was focused on getting the comb through Lori's hair, which was proving to be a difficult task. She tried working at a tangle when Lori let out a high pitched shriek.
"Mamae,that hurt!" Lorien screeched. The child tried to flee from her mother's lap, but was stopped just in time.
"Oh, no, you don't" Nimwen said. "We're getting this mess taken care of one way or another."
"But it huuuurt," Lorien moaned.
"It will hurt more if you don't stay still." Nimwen took hold of the comb, still stuck in Lorien's hair, and attempted to dislodge it."Mercy, da'len, how did you get it so tangled?"
Mahvir watched the pair. He had been about to say he could use time magic to untangle Lorien's hair, but instead he took a sip of his tea. Nimwen's experiences with time magic hadn't been a good one and he would rather not mention the fact he distorted time on the way here. Let alone say he could untangle Lorien's hair within moments without it hurting.
It was a gruelling endeavor, but through her own willpower, and two cups of tea, Nimwen managed to comb Lorien's mane and keep the toddler still, all with one arm. "All right, Lori, you're free to go," Nimwen chuckled.
Immediately Lorien leapt from the chair. Her hair whipped behind her as she raced over to Mahvir. "Hair pretty now," she grinned, shaking her locks to prove it.
"Yes, your hair is as strands of gold shimmering in the candle light, Princess Lorien." Mahvir bowed to her. He straightened and looked at Nimwen. "If you braided her hair before she fell asleep it would make combing her hair easier in the morning."
"That's what I use to do," Nimwen explained. "Now, it's a tad...out of my range." Her eyes flicked to her left arm, the sleeve half empty as the hook had yet to be put on.
"My apologies." Mahvir bowed his head. He stood. "I'll see to breakfast." He limped off back into the small kitchen like space which had come with the rooms they'd gotten.
An hour later he returned with a plate for Nimwen and one for Lorien. The food was eggs and breakfast meats.
"I'm not the best cook, but here you are." He handed her the plate. "And one for you as well, Princess." He smiled at Lorien.
"Oh, you didn't have to," Nimwen smiled. "Ma serannas. Lori, what do we say?"
"Ma serannas, Mahvy," Lori said as she stabbed into a sausage.
"It was no problem. My apologies if it tastes terrible, I know I am not the best cook in the world. When the others wake there should be enough for them as well." He returned to his seat with a fresh cup of tea.
Nimwen took a bite of the eggs and her eyes widened. "Are you mad? This is delicious."
"Yummy!" Lori said. Her cheeks resembled that of a chipmunk's.
"Ma serannas." Mahvir bowed his head and looked at the dark liquid of the tea. He wondered if they were just humoring him. Whenever he ate the food he made, it tasted just as terrible as any other food.
"Oooooh, I smell sausage!" Franne said sing-song as she waddled in. She still wore her night dress, which only made her swollen belly even more pronounced. "I hope you saved some for me."
Mahvir covered his head so he couldn't see her. "There is plenty for everyone," he stated. It hadn't been so bad when Lorien was in her nightgown, she was a child and his sister, but this… He could feel his ears burning already. It wasn't proper or right especially considering she was a married woman.
"Great," the redhead said.
"Where's Cullen?" Nimwen asked.
"Right here." The commander entered the room scratching his head. For once, he was out of his armor and red coat, instead sporting a simple white shirt and dark trousers. "Thought I should join the rest and- Franne, what are you doing?"
"Getting breakfast," she replied on her way to the kitchen.
"You're not even dressed," Cullen sighed, following her.
"Food comes first, Noodle."
"Those two are something else," Nimwen chuckled when the pair left.
With Franne out of the room, Mahvir lowered his hand. "She's worse than Andruil," he muttered. "No, apologies, better," he corrected, remembering once Andruil had decided to come out of her room naked back during the First War. It had been a show to try and get Solas interested. All it had done was make Solas's face go red and him avert his gaze telling her to put on clothes.
"I'm sure she'd get a kick out of being compared to Andruil," Nimwen smirked. "For all her strangeness, I'm glad she and Cullen found each other. He's been happier these past few years, I can tell. Not to mention Franne is sure to always keep things interesting."
"True. She seems nice enough." Mahvir set down his empty glass. "If it isn't too much to ask," he changed the subject, "I would love to meet Dagna today."
Nimwen's eyes brightened. "Truly?"
"Dag Dag?" Lorien perked up.
Mahvir chuckled. "Truly."
"It will be so good to see her again. She and Harret opened their shop in the market, it shouldn't be too hard to find."
"That is good news."
Vir walked into the room and glanced back down the hall. "That human knows she's still in her night clothes, right?"
Mahvir averted his gaze once more. His ears felt as fire.
"That human currently has sausage, and does not care about your opinion," Franne smirked as she waltzed back into the room.
"You could have at least put your robe on," Cullen said.
"You people act like I'm walking around in my small clothes." Franne looked to Nimwen. "Back me up, Nimmy."
"You do what you want, Franne," Nimwen chuckled.
"See, Cull? Nim's got my back."
The commander shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.
The couple joined the elves at the table and set their plates down.
"This sausage is amazing," Franne beamed.
"Mahvir made it," Nimwen said.
"Really?" The redhead reached over and gave Mahvir a slap on the back. "Thanks for the grub. You're a real chef."
Mahvir almost face planted into the table from her slap. He winced with the echo of the pain. "My thanks, Captain," he stated in even tones still not looking towards her.
Vir sat down at the table as well, his eyes narrowed.
"Where's your food, Mahvir?" Nimwen asked, with a tone that said 'Don't think you're not eating.'
Mahvir sighed and stood. Before he could make to get a plate Vir leapt to his feet.
"I'll get you a plate." The sentinel raced into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a plate.
Mahvir scowled. "I still have one good leg, da'len."
Vir flushed a little, but didn't otherwise react. He placed the plate before Mahvir.
"You should eat too, Vir," Nimwen told the sentinel.
Vir flushed a brighter shade of red and glanced at Mahvir.
A small sigh escaped Mahvir. The boy was still stuck in the old ways, this much was clear by the fact he had brought Mahvir the food.
"I'm good," Vir stated.
Mahvir looked at the plate. He took a deep breath before he started to eat it. Food tasted just as bad as normal, every flavor intensified. It clung to his tongue and was enough to make anyone never want to eat again. His cooking was the worst.
"Uncle Cullen, Aunt Franne," Lorien said to the pair. "We go see Dag Dag!"
"Dagna?" Cullen raised a brow. "Ah, yes, didn't she open a shop here?"
"That's what I heard, good for her," Franne said.
"Would you two like to come? I'm sure Dagna would love to see you," Nimwen said.
Cullen shook his head. "Apologies, Inquisitor, but we promised my family we'd meet with them. Trust me when I say cancelling on Mia would prove to be the end of me."
"Understandable, family first," Mahvir stated. He managed to finish the last bit of the food knowing Nimwen would keep telling him to eat it as if he were a child and not wanting to have such a conversation happen before others.
"I can't wait to meet them," Franne grinned. "All those cute nieces and nephews of yours, and I'm sure Mia and Rosalie will have plenty of embarrassing stories to tell me."
"Maker's Mercy," Cullen sighed with a look of regret.
Franne giggled and took his hand. "Oh, hush, love. It'll be fun."
"I'll make sure Brandon brings out the drink," he muttered.
"There are always worse family reunions out there," Mahvir stated. "At least your family isn't trying to kill one another. That would be a reunion to run from." Or towards as he was going to do with Solas.
A look passed over Nimwen's face, but then she was back to smiling. "How about Lori and I take the plates to the kitchen and then I'll get her dressed?" she suggested. She stood and collected hers, Lori's, and Mahvir's plates and headed for the kitchen. "Come, da'len, you can help me wash."
"Bubbles!" Lorien squealed as she followed her mother.
Perhaps he shouldn't have spoken. Mahvir stood. "Excuse me." He bowed to the humans before limping after Nimwen. He stopped and decided better of it. Instead he turned and returned to his rooms to collect what was needed for meeting Dagna.
Mahvir waited for Nimwen outside the inn. Vir beside him, standing in silence and looking as a guard. Mahvir had tried to get the boy to relax, but Vir was still new to this time and he didn't trust humans that much. It didn't help matters he still viewed Mahvir as the god who saved the boy from death centuries ago.
"Ready to go, everyone?" Nimwen asked. She wore a light blue tunic and now had her prosthetic on. She carried Lorien on her hip, and the child wore a mint green dress and pigtails, courtesy of Franne, with ribbons that matched her dress.
"You two look lovely." Mahvir smiled at them. "I am ready when you are." He turned his staff in his gloved hand. He started forward, placing a little more weight on the staff than normal. The morning cooking and moving without the staff had aggravated his leg a little.
"All right, let's go," Nimwen said, taking the lead.
Mahvir fell in behind her. The Denerim market was just as lively as he remembered it being. Their band drew the gaze of several humans, most eyed Nimwen and Vir for their tattooed faces while others were more interested in the fancy clothes Lorien and Nimwen wore. Mahvir seemed to meld into the backs of their minds, passing as a normal, poor elvhen from the alienage.
"Let's see, it should be around here," Nimwen muttered as she scanned the buildings. "She said it was near the well and...oh! There it is." Nimwen pointed her hook at one of the buildings.
It was an unassuming place, the most notable thing being the brightly colored sign above the door. It was a large circle painted to look like rainbow-colored stained glass, with an anvil in the center. Below it hung the name of the store, bright red letters that spelled out Overcroft.
Mahvir smiled. "Shall we?" he asked.
The elves entered the shop. A bell tinkled with the opening of the door. The inside of the store smelled of metal and smoking wood, and had an inviting air to it.
The man standing behind the counter looked up at their entrance. "What can I do for- Maker's breath, Inquisitor?"
"Harret," Nimwen smiled.
The blacksmith came out from behind the counter. "Never thought I'd find you here, your Worship," he laughed, his hand outstretched.
Nimwen put Lorien down and shook Harret's hand. "Where would I be without my favorite blacksmith?"
"Run through and in ugly armor," Harret smirked. He bent down before Lorien. "Nice to see you again, little Lady."
"Hi," Lorien waved.
Harret looked up at Mahvir and Vir. "Who are these two?"
"This is Mahvir, and Vir," Nimwen explained.
"You two brothers?"
Vir's ears face turned bright red. "N-no," he stammered.
Before the boy could continue, Mahvir explained, "The similarities in the name is only from our language. My name means tomorrow, his is path."
"Huh, I suppose that make sense. I don't know much about elf language myself."
"Is Dagna in the shop, Harret?" Nimwen asked.
"Where else would she be?" The blacksmith turned his head. "Dagna, come out here!" he yelled.
"Coming!" There was a series of crashes, hissing, and what sounded like thunder, before a dwarven woman in goggles and an apron came out from the back. "Sorry just doing some adjustments," she said as she removed her goggles. Her eyes widened when she saw Nimwen. "Inquisitor!" The goggles were dropped to the floor as the dwarf raced over to hug the elf.
"It's good to see you Dagna," Nimwen smiled.
"It's fantastic to see you," Dagna replied with an even bigger smile. "How long have you been in Denerim? What do you think of the shop, like the name? I thought it fit since I spent so long in the Undercroft, and now my shops above ground, get it? Are you here to place an order? Oh, wait, who's this-?"
"One question at a time, Dagna," Nimwen said, hand raised. "But, to start, this is Mahvir, and Vir."
"Nice to meet you both," said Dagna. She took both their hands and shook them at the same time.
"And you, Arcanist." Mahvir bowed his head to her. "To clarify, I am Mahvir. The one with the flushed ears is Vir."
Vir turned a deeper shade of red.
"Nice to meet you both. Wait, I said that already, didn't I?" she laughed.
"You did, but it is nice to be greeted twice." Mahvir smiled. He liked her enthusiasm. It was rather refreshing.
"Mahvir here is quite the inventor as well," Nimwen said.
Dagna's eyes lit up. "Oh, really? What do you make?"
"I am a toy maker," Mahvir stated.
"Oh, that's wonderful," she sighed. "Anytime I try to make toys, they tend to set on fire," she smiled sheepishly.
"Woodwork is very different from metalwork. I admit I've never dabbled in metalwork when it comes to toys. All the pieces I use are wood or string. Though, setting toys on fire would unsafe for the children, admittedly."
"True, I'm better suited making the toys that her Worship and her soldiers could make use of. By toys, I mean weapons."
"I figured as much." Mahvir knew the woman was a little absentminded. "Did you receive my letter, Arcanist?"
Dagna cocked her head to the side. "Letter? What let- oh, you mean the letter!" she gasped.
At this Mahvir smiled and bowed his head. "Yes."
"What was that letter about anyways?" Nimwen asked.
"That, Nimwen, is a secret." Mahvir placed a finger over his lips.
Nimwen rolled her eyes. "Very well, keep your secret."
"Hey, Widdle, I'm home!"
Everyone looked up as a blur of yellow and red swung in through the window. The blur did a roll, then stood to reveal itself as an elvhen woman with a large sack on her back. "I got the junk you needed," she said to Dagna. She proceeded to dump out the bag onto the floor, revealing its contents as scrap metal.
"Oh, thank you," Dagna gushed. The dwarf eyed the scrap metal as if it were a plate of desserts.
"Aunt Sera!" Lorien rushed over to the woman and hugged her legs.
"What's this?" Sera gasped. "Lil' Inky!" She scooped up the girl and peppered her cheek with kisses. "How's my favorite squirt doin'?"
"Good," Lorien laughed.
"And, look, it's mama Inky," Sera grinned at Nimwen.
"Hello to you too, Sera."
"Who'er these two?" asked Sera.
"I am called Mahvir." Mahvir bowed his head to Sera. "This is Vir."
Vir eyed Sera.
Mahvir sighed then smiled and held out his hand to Sera. "I've heard much of your exploits as Red Jenny from the servants. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."
"What's this Solas look-alike doin' with you, 'quisitor?" the elven woman asked.
Nimwen sputtered. "Yes, well…"
"I suppose my appearance has been compared to worse." Mahvir chuckled.
"Wow, he does look a lot like Solas," Dagna agreed, eyeing Mahvir with wide eyes.
"Really, I just wanna shave his head to see if he's got the egg head too," the elf woman said.
"I have had my head shaved. I don't wish to repeat the experience, thank you." Mahvir withheld a shudder at the memory of his time as a slave to the Imperium.
"But do you have the egg though?" Sera asked.
"Do I look more like Solas with my head shaved? I don't care to know. And I doubt he would appreciate the fact I am being compared to him by his old comrades." Well, Mahvir supposed this was better than being compared to Elgar'nan.
"So, what brings you to the city?" Sera asked, leaning against the wall.
"Mahvir wanted to meet Dagna."
Sera raised a brow. "What for?"
"Just talk between fellow inventors," Dagna responded.
"He's a tinker man too?" asked Sera.
"As in I create toys for children through minor enhancements and woodwork, yes." Mahvir managed a smile, but he knew the subject of his blood father was far from dropped when it came down to Red Jenny. If he had gathered anything about her from All this Shit is Weird and from his People, it was the fact if she found an elfy-elf's button she would continue to press at it.
"So, you're like Thom?" A small smile came to Sera's face. "He used to always carve stuff for the kiddies at Skyhold."
"Have you heard from him lately?" Nimwen asked.
"Think he's in the Free Marches, but I don't know," Sera shrugged.
Mahvir shifted at being compared to Thom. Given what he knew about the man it wasn't too far removed from the truth about his own past. He had misused power in his past as well. "I wouldn't say my toys are the same, but in a manner of speaking." He turned to Dagna. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to test the theory I sent you in the letter, Arcanist."
"Oh, yes, of course," Dagna nodded. She turned to Nimwen. "I hope you don't mind, your Worship. It's going to be a lot of technical talk that I'm sure you and Lady Lorien wouldn't be interested in."
"That's fine," Nimwen said.
"Say, 'quisitor, there's a sweets shop down the road. Why don't I take you and lil Inky there and we can catch up?"
"Cake?" Lori asked, eyes hopeful.
Mahvir tried not to make a face at the mention of sweets. "Shall we, Arcanist?" He bowed to Dagna.