A/N: Thank you, Lisa, for all your work and beta-goodness.

Redress

Merrisoo made a noise that was not quite a snort and not quite a scoff. Joss and Joseph, sitting cross-legged on Joss's bed, were planning a trip to the Fade for that night, and upon hearing the sound, looked at each other, wearing identical grins.

"Would you call that a scorff or a snoff?" he asked her.

Joss giggled. "Definitely a snoff. Or maybe a snorff?"

Her giggles died away when Merrisoo proceeded to read aloud from a note she held in her hand.

"Dear Merrisoo,

"You're the prettiest girl in the Tower. I want to be your beau. Please say yes.

"Niall."

Joss was up and rushing towards the perfect mage, hands clenched into fists. Most of the mages were laughing, but Niall, his face brilliant red, was not laughing. Nor was Petra. She looked mad enough to send Merrisoo into the Beyond.

"Don't be silly, Niall," Merrisoo said with a laugh. "You're much too simple and uneducated to understand someone of my refined tastes."

Joss snatched the letter out of the mage's perfect little hand and gave Merrisoo a shove, sending the girl staggering backwards into an armoire. Ser Bran's metal gauntlet on the scruff of her neck was the only thing that stopped Joss from knocking Merrisoo onto her perfect arse.

"Apprentice Josslyn, there will be no fighting. Apprentice Merrisoo, I suggest you remove yourself to the library for the moment."

Joss, struggling against Bran's hold, glared after the retreating mage. "Let me go!" she urged hotly, trying to break his implacable grip. "I'll fry her like so many strips of bacon!"

"Apprentice Josslyn, I'm going to let go of you now, but if you move to follow her, we will be making a trip to see the First Enchanter."

"Fine by me, it's near the library," Joss retorted, still trying to shake his hand off. Maker's snout, he had an iron grip.

As if aware of her thoughts, he released his grip so suddenly that she went stumbling across the room. Once she had regained her balance, she went straight for the door. Niall's voice stopped her.

"No, Joss, it's all right," he mumbled.

Of course it wasn't all right! Maker's knobby knees, it was not all right at all! Merrisoo could have just quietly told him she wasn't interested. She didn't have to announce to an entire dormitory of mages that he wasn't perfect. She looked at Niall and then at the others. Joseph shook his head slightly, and Petra was twisting her hands.

"Apprentice Josslyn?" Bran enquired sternly, coming to hover over her like an anxious mother.

"Oh, fine. I won't fry her up like bacon. But may I at least punch her on her perfect little nose?" she asked, glaring up at the templar.

"No, you may not," he replied and then lowered his voice. "It will only serve to embarrass Apprentice Niall further should you do so," he said quietly.

Perfect. Given a dose of guilt, and she snapped right back into line. But the thought of mortifying one of her best friends made her queasy, and was not what she wanted to do. At. All. She wanted to show Merrisoo that she may look perfect, but she was far from it on the inside. Reluctantly, she nodded and then went over and flung her arm around Niall.

"Don't listen to her, Niall. She's a scorffer. Scorffers don't know good when they see it."

But it took Josslyn a long time to get to sleep that night. There wasn't a nicer person in the whole Tower than Melon. He didn't deserve to be treated that way. And why did everyone think Merrisoo was perfect? She wasn't. She may pretend to be, and she might look that way, but she was as mean as Apprentice Poppins, just with words instead of pinches and punches. She finally fell asleep to an image of strips of bacon with Merrisoo's face on each one of them.

Two days of uneasy silence in the dormitory went by. Niall was withdrawn, and no matter what they did, they couldn't get him to smile. Merrisoo kept to the library when she wasn't in class, coming back to the dormitory in time for lights out. Joss spent as much time as she could glaring at Merrisoo, but a glare wasn't likely to teach the mage a lesson.

Joss, trying to sleep the second night after the scene, felt a hand placed over her mouth. Her eyes snapped open as she struggled against it, her heart trying to leap out of her chest. She tried to bite the hand, bringing her fist up, prepared to bean whoever it was, until she realized it was Joseph bending over her. He cautiously removed his hand, putting a finger to his lips, and gestured with his head to follow him. She slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the dressing room, where Niall and Petra awaited.

It was time to repay Merrisoo for humiliating Niall. And about time, as far as she was concerned. She gave him a smile that she hoped was reassuring, but was probably not, judging from his wild-eyed expression. She patted his arm and put her smile away, afraid she would scare him even more if it stayed where it was.

She wanted to freeze Merrisoo to her bed, but Niall wouldn't hear of it. Joss thought he was too nice for his own good; Petra and Joseph agreed. Something had to be done to show the snooty teen of perfection that she was a cruel and heartless twit.

"I say we get Kinnon to pretend to like her because she likes him," Petra whispered. She put a hand on Niall's arm. "Not to be mean or anything," she added with one of her bright smiles.

"Kinnon is too nice to do that. Even if he didn't like her, which he does, but not like she likes him, he wouldn't help. He doesn't do mean things. Ever," Joss replied in a hushed voice.

"I say we have Niall hit her with a sleep spell so she won't wake up, and then we trim her hair for her," Joseph said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

Merrisoo's perfect golden ringlets were a source of pride and joy. The idea was wicked. And mean. And perfect. Joss was impressed. And proud. Joseph's plans were always clever. And fun. She nodded her head so vigorously that the room started spinning, and she felt slightly sick to her stomach.

"Where will we put the hair? We can't burn it; that will stink up the place enough to wake everyone," Niall said, getting into the spirit of things.

Joss frowned, tapping her chin as she thought. Ah, she had it. "We'll put them under Poppins's pillow. He punched little Alim Surana in the stomach so hard that he fell down and couldn't breathe. It will serve him right for hurting the younger mages and getting away with it."

"But her hair is so pretty. Isn't there something else we can do?" Niall fretted quietly. Joss stared at her friend in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right? You want us to just go up to her, tap her on her wrist, and tell her to stop being mean to you?" Joss asked, her voice becoming louder with each word until Joseph clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Hush, you," he hissed. She blinked and nodded, shrugging sheepishly when he removed his hand.

"Where can we get the scissors?" Practical Petra asked.

"Owain has a pair. Wynne says he can be trusted not to run with them, whatever that means," Joseph answered.

"No. Don't ask him," Joss said quickly, this time shaking her head so vigorously she felt woozy.

"Awww, isn't that cute. She's trying to protect him," Petra sniggered.

Joss was just about to skewer Petra with her fiercest frown when she heard the chimes from the night bells begin to ring. The night bells were much softer than those that rang during the day, but they could still be heard in the quiet Tower. Her eyes widened and everyone held their breath as they counted. Twelve bells. It was time for the templars to swap shifts!

"Back to bed, quickly!" Niall urged in a panicked whisper.

Joss did not have to be told twice. She scampered across the dormitory on her tip-toes and jumped into her bed, pulled her covers up to her chin, and slammed her eyes shut. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that it sounded like someone thumping on the massive doors that separated the real world from the Tower.

As she lay in bed, pretending to sleep, she wondered if the templar coming on watch would hear her heart pounding from his post. She was pretty sure everyone else in the Tower could hear it crashing against her ribs. Trying to listen for the creak of armor-clad feet, all she could hear was her heart, which sounded like it had moved up to her ears. She kept her eyes closed tightly and waited. And waited. And waited. Usually the templar coming on duty would walk through the dormitory rooms, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Like all the mages didn't know that was going to happen?

From the uneven squeak of greaves, she knew it was one of the new templars, Stoker, who was walking the aisles between the beds. New templars didn't realize that mages could actually hear things like squeaks and creaks. Sometimes it took them months to figure out why they never seemed to catch mages who were running amok in the Tower after hours.

The squeak was getting closer and Joss tried to keep her eyes from moving behind their lids, sure that any movement of any kind would be a giveaway that she was still awake.

There was a pause right by her head and she could almost feel the templar's eyes on her. Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't, don't, don't! After what seemed like ages, the squeak moved away and then she heard him clear his throat and settle at his post across the hall from the dormitory.

Letting out a long, unsteady breath, she rolled out of her bed and crawled as quickly as she could back to the dressing room. The others were already there, waiting for her. They snickered at her as she stood up and brushed the dirt off her nightdress. She tossed her hair and pretended not to care. And then immediately wanted to apologize for doing anything that might remind Niall of Merrisoo's behavior.

"So, if not Owain, where do we get the scissors?" Petra asked.

"Niall, you're Wynne's pet. Go to the infirmary tomorrow, and tell her you want to practice cutting bandage strips. When you're done, slip the scissors into your pocket," Joseph instructed.

"I don't think I can do that," Niall said glumly.

"Whatever it takes, Niall," Joss admonished and then poked him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. You're a lot sneakier than you think you are."

"Uhm, thanks?" Niall said, but she saw that he wasn't looking quite so glum.

"Here's the plan," Joseph continued, as they huddled together, "Tomorrow, Niall gets the scissors and puts them under my pillow. As soon as it's safe, probably after ten bells, we'll meet here. Niall will put Merrisoo to sleep, I'll cut her hair, and Joss will put the hair under Poppins's pillow. Petra, you'll keep watch."

"There is a problem with your plan, Joseph," Owain whispered. Joss nearly jumped out of her skin, and she gave a startled yelp of surprise. The others reacted with even more surprise. But beyond her surprise was a great big lump of happiness that he was there to help them.

"Owain, you should be asleep," Petra said in an odd wheezy voice. She was still looking frayed around the edges by his sudden appearance.

"As should you all," he agreed solemnly.

"Owain," Joss began, but Owain shook his head, stopping her voice in its tracks.

"You seek redress. I will help, if only to keep you from a trip to the hot seat," he told her firmly.

Josslyn blinked, stunned by his decision, and pleased as could be that he was there. She finally thought to nod, unable to speak around the butterflies that were fluttering around in her chest, although she had no idea why he thought they were looking for a red dress.

There were times when he was too strange for even her to understand. But she thought it was sweet that he didn't want her to get into trouble again.

The hot seat was the chair directly in front of the First Enchanter's desk. When a mage misbehaved and was sent to his office, they sat in the chair, which First Enchanter Irving gradually warmed until the mage was squirming and confessing a multitude of crimes. Joss was quite familiar with the chair. Twice she had been caught trying to counter the effects with her own frost spells. It had not been a pleasant experience. At. All.

"If you put the hair under Poppins's pillow, it won't be seen by anyone else but Poppins, unless you wait to put it there three nights from tonight," he stated quietly.

Joss stared at the others, trying to puzzle out why it would make a difference and then it hit her, a smack to her brain that made her grin. "Linen exchange," she breathed, beaming.

"Linen exchange," he concurred and smiled softly. "Now, I suggest we go back to bed."

They nodded and went through the secret oath-swearing ritual with each other: a series of shoulder bumps, a few shakes of their behinds, and two eyebrow waggles. Owain looked baffled by their behavior, and, for a minute, Joss felt sorry for him because he couldn't bring himself to join in on the fun. But then he winked at her, a stealthy shift in his expression that she almost missed. He could have fun, just not like the others. It made her smile as she scampered back to her bed.

~~~oOo~~~

The next three days passed with all the speed of a three-legged turtle, which Tubs now was, thanks to an accident. Joss had trouble paying attention in her classes, which irritated Wynne no end. Irritating Wynne was like getting an unexpected second helping of dessert. Joss was more than happy about that unforeseen boon.

Lucien Caravel gave her extra work for missing a question completely. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer, she simply never heard him ask the question to begin with.

Naturally, Merrisoo was quick with the answer, her snooty little nose turned up in the air. Joss couldn't wait to pay her back. Well, she could, but she sure didn't want to.

And then, finally, it was time for lights out on the third night. Joss was much too excited to sleep. Her eyes refused to close and her insides felt shaky, but mostly, she was eager to avenge her friend. She lay in bed listening to the sounds around her: the comforting creak of armor, the rustle of shifting blankets, and the gentle snores coming from Kinnon's bunk.

As the last note of the tenth bell echoed into silence, Joss rolled out of bed and crept into the changing room, pausing every few seconds to make sure Ser Bran wasn't moving from his post. The others followed quickly, although she was disappointed not to see Owain among them.

They waited until Ser Bran moved off to make his rounds before they crept back into the room. It amazed Joss that an Order renowned for its mage-hunting abilities was so predictable in their habits. At ten minutes past every hour the guard on duty would walk the hall, checking to make sure all the doors that should be shut were, and all the doors that shouldn't be shut weren't. It was insulting that they thought mages were dumb enough not to notice those kinds of things.

None of them expected Merrisoo's golden locks to be woven into a thick braid. Niall sent a panicked look at Joseph, whose smile was like a beacon in the dark room. Joss gave him an encouraging nod and Niall's hands glowed as his sleep spell took shape. Joseph sawed and sawed on the braid before he held it up triumphantly, waving it at Joss. She fought back the giggles, biting her lip to stifle them.

Taking the braid, which was eerily warm, she tip-toed over to Poppins's bed, fervently wishing he didn't sleep in the upper bunk. Reaching up, she felt for the mage's pillow beneath her fingers, and raised a corner of it slightly to slip the fat braid underneath.

Poppins took that moment to roll over, flinging his arm across his body. It caught her on the top of her head, so hard it made little lights dance in the darkness.

The only reason she didn't cry out in pain was because she was already biting her lip to keep the giggles at bay. The knock to her noggin chased those giggles right out of her head. She remained as stiff as the statue of Andraste that stood in the great hall, waiting for him to wake up screaming bloody murder. Not that she was actually murdering anyone. Yet. She couldn't promise not to if Poppins sat up and started yelling.

They all met back in the changing room a moment later, clapped each other on the back for a mission carried out successfully, and then scuttled back to bed. It took Joss a long time to fall asleep, mostly because she was pretty sure her head was broken.

Morning came with a shriek. Because she was still waking up, Joss was sure the Tower was being invaded by shades and demons. Lots of them. It was, in fact, Merrisoo. Joss was just about to warn her that living in the Tower, surrounded by templars just waiting to kill anything even resembling a demon, was not the place to make such sounds, when her shrieking abruptly stopped. That couldn't be good.

Joss propped herself up on her elbow, watching the scene unfold. It was much better than any book she'd ever read. She glanced across the room to see Joseph, face shining with glee, clutching his sides. She glanced at Merrisoo, noticing for the first time just how short her hair was. She stuffed nearly her entire fist in her mouth trying not to laugh. Even Niall, who was calmly standing beside Petra, was smiling.

Templars, armor clanking and clanging like a pile of pots and pans, came running into the room, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste. Merrisoo, pointing a shaking finger at her, screeched, "Joss did this! She cut my hair!"

Joss was immediately reminded of Kinnon's brief desire to learn to play the bagpipes earlier in the year, and instinctively covered her ears. Once she knew they were safe, she responded to the accusation.

"I most certainly did not cut your hair!" she denied emphatically. Which was true. She hadn't cut Merrisoo's hair, Joseph had.

"You mages strip your linen and prepare for class," Knight-Commander Greagoir instructed in a grim voice. Oh wonderful, the one person she did not want to disappoint was looking at her with grave disappointment. Joss smiled at him. He did not smile in return.

"Josslyn, explain yourself," Wynne demanded, coming into the room right behind Greagoir.

Andraste's flaming knickers! Did the whole world need to come in and point fingers at her? Joss huffed, about to protest her innocence, when Owain spoke up, his voice almost animated.

"Apprentice Poppins, is that Merrisoo's braid in your hand?"

If Joss lived to be a hundred years old she would never forget the pandemonium that broke out next. It was all she could do not to howl with laughter, and, as it was, more than a few chuckles escaped her. She looked over at Niall, whose grin stretched practically from ear to ear.

Merrisoo was stomping her perfect little foot and trying to toss her perfect little ringlets. Joss wandered if she would actually hurt her neck trying to toss what was no longer there. Poppins was trying to fob off the braid on anyone who would take it, but the other mages were busy ignoring most of it, many wearing secret little smiles as they went about preparing for the day. Wynne wore such a disappointed look that Joss almost felt sorry for the woman. Almost.

She should probably feel guilty. She didn't. Not even a little. She realized the only remorse she felt was for upsetting Knight-Commander Greagoir, and if she could think of a way to make it up to him, she would. Having experienced more than one lesson learned the hard way, she thought it was probably the only way some lessons could be learned.

It was three months before Merrisoo's hair grew out enough for even tiny little ringlets. The same length of time that Poppins was assigned to laundry duty.

Joss considered that a win-win situation.