Dragon Age

A Thedas Tale

Ch-21 – Following the Qun (DA2)

"Why have you called for me, Ann?" Fenris asked as he followed her into the study. He couldn't stop himself from looking around, expecting to see Neria around every corner. But her vision escaped him. It was for the best. He settled in a stuffed chair and looked across the small table at the mage.

"I know you consider yourself a lone wolf, Fenris. But you are a part of this family whether you want to admit it or not." She tapped her finger on the table absently and then stilled it when he looked down at it. "When my family is hurting…I am hurting." She knew it wasn't her business, but she was plunging into it anyway. "You and Neria -"

Fenris shot forward in the chair. "She stopped me from killing my sister. It would have been a justified death."

"Then why didn't you kill her? Neria didn't hold you down. She simply asked you not to. The choice was yours and yours alone, Fenris," she pointed out as gently as she could.

His silence echoed between them. "Killing your sister in the heat of the moment would have left a void within you. A void nothing would ever be able to fill. She only sought to save you that pain. You don't have to see Varania again; but nor is her death staining your soul."

His brooding silence continued but it didn't bother her. "Elvie and Neria tell me Danarius is dead. That has to be a weight off your shoulders."

"It is." Fenris knew Ann was right. He wanted to kill his sister. He still did. He hadn't liked hearing what she'd told him – about who he really was, what he'd done and what she'd become. But her death would have haunted him and he had enough in his life that haunted him already. The past, nightmares and dreams alike. "I would have failed without… the mages."

Her brows rose. "They have names, you know. Or do you prefer 'the brooding elf' to Fenris?"

"Ha." The smallest of grins caused his lips to jerk up a bit. "I would say I am not brooding, but too many have told me otherwise." The smile faltered. "My words were thoughtless. For that, you have my apology. Elvie and Neria helped me ensure Danarius would never hurt anyone again." It was far from the first time he owed his thanks to a mage. Mages were dangerous but not every mage was what he believed them to be.

She nodded, shook her head and frowned at the same time. Her emotions in turmoil. "I wished I'd have been there for you. You're my friend – my family. You needed me and I wasn't there." Her hands in her lap tightened into fists with her frustration.

His brows rose in surprise. Friends? Few would call him that and even fewer he trusted at his back. But he trusted her; he had for years now. The family part, however, surprised him even more. But it shouldn't have. He could see that now. Why she cared he didn't know. But she'd always treated him like she treated her brothers. And what had he done in return? Stopped coming over when things were too emotionally stressful with Neria. "You had your own past demons to slay."

"And did you slay yours then? Is your past behind you now?" she prodded.

"As much as it can be. With Danarius gone, no one else would care enough to come after me. For the first time, I am truly free." He wasn't even sure what to do with this freedom that he'd sought for so long. Honestly, he felt a bit lost.

She nodded her approval. "Good, then I expect you to start being a part of this family again. Give up that blood-stained death-mansion. You have a room here above stairs and we miss you," she said pointedly. "The future is yours now and there is no reason for you deny it anymore."

Her voice was hard and uncompromising. No matter. He deserved it. Normally such words would have set him on edge. But they didn't. They warmed him instead. He grinned at her. "You do not pull punches." His gaze lingered on hers. That knowing, warm glint in her eyes did not make him want to run. Instead, it made him want to stay. With Danarius dead, there is no reason for him to remain in his mansion. Here, for the first time since he was a child, he truly had a welcoming home. "Then I am home. There is nothing I need from that place." His thoughts returned to Neria. He had wronged her as well with his insecurities and doubts. He rose from the chair. "It would appear that I have other apologies to make. Excuse me."

She watched him leave the study and then her gaze drifted to the dancing flames in the fireplace. Her mother's voice drifted through her head.

"I am so very proud of you, my daughter…."

"This is where you are," Aveline said as she marched into the study and settled into the chair Fenris had just left. "The elf nearly ran me over in his mad dash out of here."

She met her friend's brown eyes. "Avaline…"

Avaline nodded. "Fenris."

"Where's Donnic? Is he with you?" She knew it had to be a social call, because the guardswoman was sans armor.

Avalie waved her hand. "He saw Alistair and Sebastian and decided to join them." Her lips tightened and her gaze narrowed on her friend. "You put yourself in danger. Again. And you didn't take me with you."

That's what this was about? "Avaline – we didn't know what we'd find…if anything. And it would have taken weeks to complete the journey. You are guard captain – you were needed here," Annalynn pointed out.

"Well, we're not the guard and you didn't invite us either," Isabela responded as she sauntered into the room with Rhynn at her heels.

"Play nice, Izzy," Rhynn warned.

Isabela winked at girlfriend and wrinkled her nose at Avaline. "Prude."

"Slattern," Avaline shot back. But there was no animosity in their words anymore. It was a game they played, though neither acknowledged it out loud.

Ann rolled her eyes. It had only been two days since their return and only now was she starting to feel clean again. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever be able to get the scent of that place off her skin. "We didn't know for sure if we'd even find anything out there in the wastes."

"But you did," Rhynn stated with a hurry up motion of her hand. "Leave nothing out."

Knowing her husband would be doing the same, she opened up and described what happened to them out in the wastelands.

Aveline's left leg bounced on the ball of her foot as the story wound down. "You and Donnic are all I have left of a family." She swallowed the emotional lump in her throat and straightened her shoulders. "I should have been there. The guard could have survived a couple of weeks under my second in command."

"Touching," Isabela smirked, but there was no fire in it. She so rarely saw Avaline show any emotion and at times she wondered if woman even had any.

Orana stepped quietly in the room. "The nooning meal is ready, Highness."

Annalynn looked up at the new servant and smiled softly. "It's Ann, Orana, just Ann." So much had happened while she was away. Apparently, Sebastian, Laura and Merrill had been with Fenris when he went after Danarius' apprentice. And Laura had offered the frightened elf a place here to earn a servant's wages. She was grateful that Laura spoke up. She'd have done the same had she been there. It had been unfortunate that they'd not been able to save Orana's father; they'd arrived too late.

"Y-yes…Mistress…Ann."

She rose from her chair and patted the nervous maid's shoulder. "Thank you, Orana." She turned to the others. "Ladies, let's eat."

After everyone had settled at the table, she quickly noticed Fenris and Neria were not there. She looked over the stairs and smiled. They could eat later. She caught sight of the shaking elf that was seated at the table. "It's all right, Orana. If the table isn't full, then everyone eats here. Our servants are a part of this family too. This was surely explained to you?" She shot a glance over to the other maids, Lilly and Averna. The ladies nodded.

"Yes, Mistress Ann. This is all very…overwhelming to me," Orana admitted softly. Everyone was so very kind to her. Her fingers ran over the soft linen maid's dress. Never had she worn anything so finely crafted. The small room she shared with Rila…it was warm and she even had her own bed! Blankets on the cold, hard floor of her master's chamber was the best she could hope for before. But usually, she bedded down on the floor with the other slaves, huddling close to stay warm.

Ann took the first platter of food she was offered and plunked some down on her plate before passing the platter to the person beside her. "You'll get used to us, Orana."

"My boy and I will look after her; see she settles in right fine," Bodahn assured the princess. "Won't we, Sandal, my boy?"

Sandal beamed a smile at the small, willowy elf. "Enchantment!"

Orana blushed with all the attention. "Everyone has been most kind to me, Mistress Ann."

"How's our visitor doing?" Garrett asked Jerod and Eiren, the two manservants who were attending the unfortunate stranger they'd brought home.

"He has not awoken yet," Jerod replied. "But we have done what we can to ensure his comfort."

Eiren nodded at Jerod. "Elvie and Laura have been in to heal him. He sleeps still. We will let you know when he awakens."

"I'll be taking over his care," Elvie informed them. "Laura and Sebastian have elbows to rub."

"It's going quite well," Sebastian grinned. "By the time we are ready to take the throne, we will have substantial backing. Future favors from a soon to be king is quite the commodity, don't you know."

Carid wiped his mouth and hands on the cloth and jumped down from his chair when he heard the brass knocker. Accepting the verbal message, he hurried straight to Ann. "The Viscount requests your consideration when it is convenient for you."

She nodded her thanks and hurried to complete her meal. While she was certainly not beholden to Marlow, having him beholden to her might prove advantageous if it became common knowledge that she was a mage.

"Always something with that lot," Isabela smirked. She jumped when she felt her lover's elbow dig into her side. "What?" she asked innocently.

Rhynn sighed. "It's always something with all of us. Izzy needs more help than I, alone, can give her."

"Rhynn!" Isabela hissed. "I was going to say something – when it would have the most impact." She grumbled under her breath. "I'm going to die! How is that for attention grabbing? Remember the relic that was…stolen? I think I may know where it is. A man called Wall-Eyed Sam has it. Castillon will kill me unless I find it. I need your help, Ann. Please."

Thana rubbed her hands together and grinned. "A treasure hunt sounds like a grand adventure! Varric and I will go."

"We will?" Varric mumbled.

"I want to help!" Neria responded as she skipped down the stairs, a wide grin on her lips. Her hungry belly growling at the scent of food.

Varric laughed at her entrance, nearly falling out of his chair at the elf's disgruntled look. Someone didn't want to join the party. "You surprised me, Perky! Didn't think we see you or Broody for a least a day or two!"

"Neither did I," Fenris grumbled, though his ears and cheeks were flushed with color.

"I want to help too!" Merril jumped in, clapping her hands in excitement.

Isabela smiled at the enthusiastic women. She suspected Varric and Fenris would not let their women go off into danger without them. "It looks like we won't be needing your help after all," she told Ann. "I'm getting five for the price of two."

"We're getting paid?" Merrill asked with a cock of her head.

Isabela snorted. "No, kitten. But we may have to show a few men that women are more than tits and ass!"

"Indeed," Avaline agreed. Crude but something she had to show every new guardsman assigned to her ranks.

"Cat and I are coming with you to see the Viscount," Garrett said in a don't even try to argue tone of voice.

Shortly thereafter, she, Alistair, Garrett, Cat and Avaline left for Hightown. After ntheir arrival at the Viscount's Keep, Avaline said her farewells and adjourned to the barracks to check in with Donnic, her second in command. The others were led to the Viscount's chamber.

Marlow bowed as the royals entered the room. "Your Highnesses." He got straight to the point, not wishing to waste their time. "I regretfully need your assistance. It is, apparently, not enough that the Qunari define my political life. They must also infect what I hold personal."

"Your son again?" she asked gently.

He sighed and gave a single nod of his head. "My son, Seamus. The life you saved; he would now squander by converting to the Qun. He has left for the Quynari compound. Please, Highness… convince Seamus to come home."

She frowned. It was unfortunate the boy wanted to be converted. But it was his choice. What right did she have to dictate the way another adult lived so long as they hurt no one? "While I may not agree with his decision. It is his choice. He is of age," she pointed out.

Truer words, yet he could not abide them. "I want to let him find his way, but in my position…" He shook his head and sighed. "I want to allow his idealism, but not blindly. At best, my opponents will claim that my office is now in Qunari hands. At worst…I lose my son."

"Did anyone see him leave for the compound?"

"He made no secret of it. I'm sure he intended it as another of his statements about closer relations. I am not saying that closer relations wouldn't be advantageous – at least for us, but right now… these matters are… delicate. I need my son to know that we can be accepting of the Qunari and still be a proud citizen of Kirkwall."

"You realize that if I approach the Arishok with this – things could go very wrong."

"I'm afraid they already are, Highness. The Arishok respects you. Use that if you must. Please see my son safely back home."

"Right…" she said quietly as she turned away from the Viscount. "This is not a good idea," she muttered under her breath.

On the way to the Qunari compound at the docks, they were attacked by a group of humans. Most were casualties of the encounter, though a couple fled with their injuries and tattered pride.

Garrett frowned after the escaping men. "I wonder who hired that lot. Someone anti-Qunari? Anti-Viscount? Or even Saemus himself not wanting to be rescued?"

"Saemus isn't the type," she told him. "I just hope it wasn't that lowly mother meddling again."

Arriving a little worse for wear, the Qunari gatekeeper opened the large iron gates for her and her party to proceed into the compound.

As she walked up the stone steps, she saw him appear from a side door and lower himself onto his makeshift throne.

The Arishok frowned at the man approaching. "Serah Hawke."

There was little point in telling him her last name had a new addition or that she was now Ferelden Royalty. He simply wouldn't care. "I came to ask you if I could speak with the Viscount's son."

"The boy." He sighed. "In four years, I have made no threat, and fanatics have lined up to hate us simply because we exist. But despite lies and fear, bas still beg me to let them come to the Qun. They hunger for purpose. The son has made a choice. You will not deny him that. It is not my role to reject the free choice of the viddathari. The son responded to his own demand of the Qun. He is neither my slave nor my prisoner"

Her brows rose. "I have not come to take away his choice. I do not have that right. I have come to simply parlay with him. That is all."

The man's words caught him off guard. He'd expected anger and ultimatums. Again, this human had surprised him. "He is not here. He went to his father. Ask the viscount why he would send you and a letter both."

A letter? "He wouldn't have."

"That is barely more than interesting. They are meeting at the chantry. A last, pointless appeal, I assume."

"The chantry." She sighed. "Mother Petrice is meddling again, no doubt."

He grunted. "A suspect in many things. If she has threatened someone under my command again, there is only one response. Her intent is obvious, and what the Qun demands is clear. This is the last insult I intend to suffer."

"I shall look into this, Arishok. Petrice demands an accounting."

"Panahedan, Hawke. Resolve this, or her hiding place will be reduced to rubble. I will be watching."

With a nod, she departed the compound.

Catrista frowned. "Are going to the Keep or the Chantry first?"

"The Keep, I think. If he is at the chantry, I doubt they'd let him leave. I need to find out more about this letter before I make accusations."

"Why would he send a letter?" Alistair asked with a shake of his head.

"He wouldn't," she responded grimly.

They were silently ushed into the Viscount's chambers.

Marlowe frowned. His son's absence was not what he expected to see. "Where is my son?" He caught himself quickly and bowed. "My apologies, your Highnesses. I am most concerned about my son. It seems to have gotten the better of my sensibilities."

She waved his apology away. "Seamus was not at the compound. A letter drew him away. A letter supposedly from you."

"Me?" he asked in confusion. "I… sent no such letter. I would have no need. He is far more likely to listen to you than to myself."

"It is as I thought. The letter called him to the chantry. I suspect Mother Petrice has her claws in this particular pie."

"Mother Petrice." Things kept getting worse. He rubbed the back of his stiff neck. "What am I supposed to do now? My son is missing – the chantry may be involved. I can't be seen to move against them."

"This is your son, Marlowe. If Petrice is involved than he may well be in danger. She is not… stable."

He shook his head, frustrated that there was so little he could do. Even for his own flesh and blood. "You do not understand the fury it would cause if I sent armed guards to a house of worship. As much as the Chantry influences this office, I cannot be seen to do the reverse. Even…even at this cost." The cost of his son. "I know I have no right to ask. But please… find my son. Help me, your Highness. You're my only hope."

Some things were more important than a job. Marlowe wouldn't or couldn't see that. One day he would surely face regrets for his actions – or inactions. "I'll do what I can, Marlowe."

As soon as the breeze caught his hair, Garrett released a long-held breath. "I am glad that man is not my father. Nothing is more important than your family. Father risked everything – even his life… Finding me was worth any cost to him. Seamus deserves that same kind of love and it infuriates me that Marlowe cares more about his powerbase and some narcissistic image of himself than his own son!"

She patted her brother's arm as they descended the massive stone staircase. "That bothered me too. A lot. We'll do everything we can for Seamus. His father can go dunk himself."

"Can I dunk him?" Alistair inquired with a wickedly gleeful grin.

She giggled. "Absolutely, my love. Afterall, he never seems to get anything done himself."

Their laughter slowly faded as they thought of the boy they were going to rescue. If Petrice had him… the errant Mother had crossed a line.

It didn't take them long to make the journey to the chantry. No words were spoken, each deep in their own thoughts.

The scent of incense was heavy as they entered the church. Her gaze scanned the main hall and she motioned towards the landing at the top of the stairs where the boy knelt on his knees.

Alistair ensured his voice was no more than a whisper. "Maybe he's decided to return to the Maker?"

"Maybe…" she said just a softly.

She climbed up the rear stairwell and knelt down next to the boy, gently touching his arm. "Seamus… I don't mean to…"

Her words stilled to silence when the boy tilted, falling gracefully, almost silently to land on his side. "Seamus!" She dropped to her knees and reached out to shake him. With a trembling hand, her fingers pressed against his neck.

Worry gripped Alistair and he squatted down next to his wife. "What is wrong with Seamus?"

Annalynn's hand fell away and she sat back on the heels of her boots. "He decided to return to the Maker, Alistair. Though, I don't think the choice was his."

Petrice frowned at the intrusion, though she expected the pain in her side to eventually show up - always where she wasn't wanted. But this, too, she could spin to an advantage. "Your Highness! Look at what you have done!" She shook her head in disgust. "To pounce upon the viscount's son, a repentant convert, in the chantry itself? A crime with no excuse! Your Qunari masters will finally answer!"

Annalynn rose to her feet and approached the banister. "Ah, Petrice. I knew it was you. You claim to be a Mother of the chantry and yet your soul is as black as a Darkspawn's. They can be forgiven that – they don't have a choice. But you do. And you chose to murder a young boy to enflame your political agenda. You will never stand at the Maker's side, Petrice. Not when you use the Maker's name to kill children!"

Nonsense words from a disbeliever. "The faithful know this has been building for a long time. Where Varnell incited, I reminded, in sermon and prayer. When people learn of this attack…Ferelden Royalty, backed by the Qunari, murdering the poor, innocent son of a Free Marches nobleman – our Viscount, no less, they will rise. Not zealots or the unknowing, but the true majority!"

She shook her head at the delusional mother and sighed. "What do you think will happen if you turn the people against the Qunari? How many of our own need to die for your bigoted beliefs? You are determined to start a war with giant warriors and you don't care who dies in the process!"

"To die untested would be the real crime! People need the opportunity to defend faith – starting with you!"

"Starting with me? Have you lost all sense? What do you think Ferelden will do if anything happens to their Crown Prince? Just how far will you go for your selfish ambitions?"

"I am doing this for the people of Kirkwall - So they can feel safe in their homes again! I am doing this for the Maker! He will smile down on us and we shall bask in his glory!" She spun around to face the followers that she'd been grooming for years. "Earn your reward in this life and the next! These heretics must die!"

Her people rushed the stairwell without a moment's hesitation. She smirked and hurried off to find the Grand Cleric, unaware of the Guard Captain's arrival. Fighting and death in the church. The Royal bastards had gone too far this time. Descending the stairs with the Grand Cleric at her side, they were just in time to see the last of her followers fall. "Do you see, Your Grace? Traitors attacking the very core of the Chantry! They defile with every step!"

Elthina turned to the young mother. "There is death in every corner, young mother. It is as you predicted." She returned her attention to the Royals and nobles. "All too well," she added thoughtfully as she approached the group.

Ann was not concerned at all to see the Grand Cleric advancing. She'd spoken enough with the woman in the past to know she held her own suspicions about her mother. "The Grand Cleric is not so naive as you would like to think, Petrice. She has not been blind to your actions or your lies. She merely sought to see how far you would go. I think she has her answers now."

No! Elthina knew nothing but what she'd told her! Elthina trusted her! "Don't you spout your Qunari filth! This is a hand of the Divine!"

Elthina's calm gaze returned to her errant mother. "I have ears, Mother Petrice. The Maker would have me use them." She turned back and looked expectantly at the noble turned princess. "Princess?"

"Seamus thought to join the Qun. Petrice sent a letter to the compound in Viscount Dumar's name and asked Seamus to meet him at the chantry. I just came from seeing Marlowe. He assured me he wrote no such letter to his son and asked us to find his son and make sure he was safe. We arrived too late, Your Grace. Young Seamus was murdered here in your name."

Elthina's lips tightened but she maintained her serenity. "I'm sure my name won't like that." She looked over at her mother. "Petrice?"

Petrice took a deep breath. She could still salvage this. "Seamus Dumar was a Qunari convert! He came here to repent and was murdered!"

Ann grimaced. She doubted Seamus would have repented regardless what the mother had told him. "He came here because he thought he'd be given another chance to talk his father into being more accepting of the Qunari. But you are right, Petrice. He was murdered. Seamus was killed to set people against the Qunari. And the Arishok is fed up with Petrice's machinations. I am not sure I can stop what she has doggedly put into motion over the last years."

Petrice was not going to let Ann ruin everything! "I am a Mother of the chantry! I will do whatever it takes to get the Qunari to leave. This in no longer a matter of heathens squatting in the docks. People are leaving us to join them!"

Oh, mother… what have you done? Elthina took a breath. "And we must pray for them like any other."

No! "They deny the Maker!" Petrice growled.

The Grand Cleric frowned. "And you diminish Him, even as you claim His side. Andraste did not volunteer for the flame." Her gaze slid to the princess. "Your Highness, you stand with the captain of the guard?"

Avaline's timely arrival lent an even greater air of credibility to her party's innocence. "I do."

Elthina nodded. "The young mother has erred in her judgement. A court will decide her fate. The Chantry respects the law, and so must she."

No! No…no…no. This wasn't possible. Everything had been planned so meticulously. Surely Elthina would change her mind. "Grand Cleric?" She watched as the old woman ascended the stairs once more. It would seem no quarter would be given to her from the Grand Cleric. That's fine. For now, she was free. She could still… icy pain licked at her chest and she peered down, blinking at the wooden shaft embedded within her. She stumbled backwards, sinking to the floor, her vision darkening. The last thing she saw was a masked heathen stepping out of the shadows.

"We protect those of the Qun. We do not abandon our own," the warrior explained before disappearing back into the shadows that had been hiding him.

Elthina stilled on the stairs, having heard the Qunari's words. It was done then. Not as she would have wished but it was done. She closed her eyes briefly and then turned to look down at the princess. "Please, send for Viscount Dumar."

"I'll go," Avaline said solemnly. This happened on her watch and it was her responsibility.

While Avaline was away, she and the others moved the bodies outside and cleaned Seamus up as best they could. She took Alistair's hand when Marlowe burst through the doors. Avaline motioned him up the back stairwell. The silence was deafening.

Marlow dropped to his knees and pulled his son up into his arms. His baby boy. Dead. Murdered. And he had been too afraid to do anything, even after the princess warned him. He failed his son. "My son…" he muttered, holding the young man's body closer. "My son was murdered in the heart of the chantry, by those who held a sacred trust. What hope for this city, when we fail our own so completely?"

"I know this is not the time, but the Arishok has been pushed too far by Petrice. He may have had her killed but I don't think it will stop there. We have to be ready for anything to happen right now. We may have to make a stand."

Marlowe dropped his head. For too long he'd put matters of state over family. For too long, he'd failed his only son. What did he care about anything else? "I cannot. I have already failed where it mattered most." Overwhelming pain assaulted him. "Please…go…" he choked out.

She motioned towards the stairs with her head. Marlowe needed this moment with his son and his agony. He did not need witnesses.

Once outside, Avaline frowned. "What happened here tonight is likely to escalate things. A mother died at the hands of an Qunari. Even if she was behind the viscount's son's death, her death at their hands will not be taken well."

"I know," Annalynn agreed. "All we can do is remain vigilant."

By the time they returned to the mansion, all she wanted was their bed.

The next day, Annalyn learned about Isabela's relic and the deaths of the Qunari that were looking for it. Apparently, the relic – the book, had belonged to them and they wanted it back. Even worse, it had been written by Koslun, the founder of their religion. The most revered being in their history. The book was sacred beyond measure and Isabela had stolen it from the Orlesians before they could return it to the Qunari. Not a very successful thief, since they knew it was her and, as fate would have it, the book had then been stolen from her when her ship wrecked during the storm that took the Qunari ship as well.

It all made perfect sense now. Isabela was the reason the Qunari never left. They couldn't. Not until the tome was in their possession once more.

To add more spice to the mix, Tevinter was after the tome as well, due to ongoing war with the Qunari. To make up for the boatload of slaves she'd freed, she had stolen the Tome of Koslun to give to Castillon so that he wouldn't kill her. No doubt, he would have sold it to the Tevinter mages.

Things had gone from bad to worse, according to Varric. Isabela had slipped away from the battle to chase after the man in possession of the tome. He handed her a letter he'd found on one of the dead Qunari bodies, pinned with a small dagger. It had been an apologetic note from Isabela, who would not be returning.

To her shock, she learned the Rhynn had chosen to stay and fight rather than chase after Isabela. None of them knew where Isabela was. Rhynn, who had found a note of her own, was understandably devastated at her lover's betrayal. They were all feeling the sting of Isabela's actions. The woman's blatant selfishness could not be condoned.

A few days later, during a nooning meal, Annalynn looked over at Avaline when her acquired-sister cleared her throat.

Avaline hated to feel like she had to come to Ann with this but the best chance to avoid an incident was through Ann. "There is something I must ask of you, Ann. The Arishok is sheltering two fugitive elves who have been accused of murder. They have fled the Qunari and converted to the Qun. We can't condone criminals running to religion to escape their crimes. Justice must be respected. He must be convinced to release them. He's already feared because of Petrice. If people start to think he can ignore the law… I need your help so that this doesn't get out of hand. The entire city could riot against the Qunari – that could cost a lot of lives."

Bloody hell. "We are walking the edge with the Arishok right now. Petrice's actions are still being felt. If we push him…"

"I know, Ann." Avaline exhaled heavily with the weight that was on her shoulders. "But we can't let these criminals set a precedence."

"I don't know, Avaline. Being with the Qun might end up being worse than prison." Joking aside, she understood Avaline's predicament. "His reaction is a major concern. He will go to any lengths to protect his people – even those he calls viddathari – the converts. We could be starting a war," she warned.

"Then let us hope that he can be reasonable."

Alistair snickered and then coughed to hide it. He did not think the Arishok's idea of reasonable would be the same as theirs. "This is not a good idea."

"Then what would you have me do?" Avaline shot back. "The law is clear and in Kirkwall, I am the law. I have to do this."

Ann patted her husband's hand. "Then we will go after we finish our meal."