Bethany found it entertaining how her sister's presence unnerved Fiona. It was probably the griffon emblazoned on the right upper arm of that black leather jacket, considering that is where the mage's eyes kept darting when not fixed at King Alistair. That had happened even before the oldest Hawke settled against the shut door, effectively barring any exit as well as entrance. From Alistair's expression, it was apparent he had requested the lack of escape. Bethany herself leaned by the only window, beside Varric who was currently acting as the Inquisition's scribe. Bethy had goaded him, promising whatever happened would be well worth it.

Because after Leliana's information Bethany was certain this would end with fireworks

"Well," Alistair started the meeting jovially, hardly any danger in the grey of his eyes. "Let's deal with the overweight nug in the room right off shall we? Redcliffe. You effectively sold a major holding of Fereldan to a Tevinter magister. An overwhelming amount of kings might consider that treason. I imagine that at least. I'm not about to take a poll or anything." His voice was carefully flippant, as if practiced. Bethany looked across to her sister in confusion, finding the female Warden's face tactfully void of emotion- the rogue could put a tranquil to shame right now- though since one hand was hovering just beside one of her silverite daggers. Bethany figured it best to follow her sister's lead. If the King was going to erupt, after all, Mari was the first who would know.

Fiona's next words probably were not helpful. "Those same kings would likely show more support for a group of their subjects," the mage objected, "but you chose to cast is out."

Before Alistair could react, Bethany spoke up. "King Theirin," she explained, stressing the last name to see how badly Fiona flinched, "was informed of my intentions from the start. He disowned your rebels at great cost to his personal and political agenda to ensure you would support the Inquisition."

Fiona gaped, looking quite suddenly like a fish. "Is this true?"

"My wife was... is an apostate," Alistair reminded. "Do you think I would be allowed back into my own rooms if I hadn't made this move for a greater good?"

"I... hadn't thought that through." Fiona crowned, then shook her head. "The uprising was my responsibility. Redcliffe was my responsibility."

Nodding, Bethany smiled. Alistair and Marian sighed in relief.

"Then lucky for you," the Inquisitor commented, "while it was a stupid ruse, it was a ruse. The Inquisition appreciates the danger you put yourself in but does not condone the actions you took."

Alistair straightened as he took a parchment from Varric. "So Bethy... I mean Inquisitor Hawke... says you came to ask aide. Three others of her inner circle support that claim. I suppose that, unsure of their aide, you took matters into your own hands to destroy Alexius' time magic. That is the right of it, yes?" He winked slyly across, signing and sliding the page to her. Varric supplied a quill.

"I... this will allow..."

"You and your mages could return as they desire. The tranquil and noncombatants first of course, unless they stay here in Skyhold's protection." Bethany let herself smile smugly, happily, at the surprise as Fiona signed the explanation.

The other two mage's who had been with her went to leave, and Marian happily allowed them to go. Varric stood to follow, but the Warden shut the door and put her hand up to warn him to stay.

Quietly, Fiona apologized. "I didn't trust you, your highness. I am sorry. I should have, but I learned many years ago not to trust monarchs- and I learned it overly well."

"You could have trusted your son."

The room went silent at Alistair's quiet whisper. Fiona gaped again, this time pushing back from the table. "I don't know what..." Before the elven woman could continue Alistair slid the pages Marian had handed him across the table. At that Fiona jumped up and lurched for the door, only to have Marian catch her by the shoulders. Fiona appraised the commander, and sighed as she turned back.

"You," Alistair said after a time, "are not a dead bar wench. Mother."

Fiona let out a strained, strangled laugh. "No. I'm not."

With that, Alistair reached into a pocket to draw out an amulet Marian recognized- he had been told it was his mother's. With one last gentle finger over the surface he drew his hand back and tossed the object. It whizzed past Fiona's ear and crashed into the wall with a shatter, the pieces landing just beside Marian's feet. She pointedly kicked them out of the way, noting the mage didn't flinch in the slightest. Alistair noticed too, and rose to head towards Marian.

"I should have realized everything anyone said was a lie. Lies and disappointment my whole life, up until the Wilds." He laughed, the sound bitter as he stood next to Marian and put a hand on her shoulder. "The only people who have never lied to me are a Witch and a Bard. Ironic a bit, isn't it?" He went for the doorknob, only to have his Warden Commander smack his hand away.

"You two are talking," Marian informed the duo. "I am going to stay right here as Alistair's back-up from the Wardens, and Bethany will stand for the Inquisition as Fiona's commander, and you will actually talk." She stares them both down, seeing Alistair and Fiona both settle back into their seats. "Now. Fiona, you don't have to ask after him in a roundabout way. He's here. Ask."

0 - /

While Marian and Bethany were forced to play diplomat after a fashion, Carver was having a much better day. It started with a fight against a qunari, and one that wasn't trying to kill him for once. Iron Bull even volunteered to go find and fight dragons sometime! Then, as midday approached, he heard the loveliest sound ever. "Pup!"

Carver growled as he spun, but couldn't really be angry at Isabella and her silly nickname for him, especially when she smiled at him while linking arms with Merrill. "Bella! You came!"

"Of course we did," Merrill offered. "Too boring without you, love.

Sorry. Captain."

"We aren't at sea Kitten. He's just Carver now."

The male Hawke shook his head. "Actually, out here I'm Champion. Ask any of the boys." He gestured to the men around him in the tavern, Bull's Chargers mostly. They cheered a bit, all of them having been soundly beaten by Carver since his arrival. Then Carver flashed a smile. "I am considering taking up with a qunari by the way." Isabella frowned, Merrill eeped. "He hunts dragons," Carver clarified.

"Just watch for that. Might be a mating ritual with dragons or teeth or something you don't know about," Isabella chuckled as she curled closer to her love. She wrapped her arms around protectively. "You are mine, you know."

"And mine," Merrill butted in, swooping to sit on his lap. Carver grabbed her, kissing the elf deeply as the pirate woman lined kisses of her own along his neck.

"Of course Kitten. Yours too." At that, Bella unraveled and went to the counter to place an order. Merrill watched the pirate walk away a minute before sliding off Carver's lap to find the 'facilities.' The Chargers still looked on, gaping.

Krem was the one who recovered first. "Champion, you are one lucky sod."

"Why yes," Carver admitted happily as Bella returned with three mugs. "I am."

0 - The next day - 0

Bethany was wringing her fists. "This is a big job, my friends."

"It's not so bad..." Josephine tried to assure, but Leliana butt in.

"Beth... The Inquisitor is right." Leliana sighed, pushing the owl piece around the war table. "The Winter Palace is an extravagant affair, and there are at least three targets. Likely more. She doesn't have the training to do this on her own, and I can do little if I'm going to be on the sidelines listening." The bard then paused, looking up. "Get Alistair and Marian in here. Now." One of her agents scurried away.

Bethany nodded, seeing her lover's wheels turning. As soon as Alistair arrived in the room, Leliana pointed at him. "Have you an invitation to the Empress' ball?"

"The Winter Palace? Of course. I get it yearly, but I've not gone before..."

"This year you will. To show off that Fereldan has minted the Warden Commander taking over Orlais." Leliana looked back at the map. "Tell me Madame de Fer has an amazing dressmaker, Josephine."

"She does, but I don't understand."

As the Antivan expressed her confusion, Marian sauntered in with her brother behind her. "Carver was with me, sorry if he isn't- invited." She looked up, seeing Alistair before meeting Leliana's line of sight. "I take it we're going to Orlais to be little bardic honeys?"

Leliana nodded. "There are three obvious targets. Duke Gaspard de Chalons, who invited the Inquisition- Briala, the Empress' former spymistress- and Florianne de Chalons. That is assuming you still want to save Celene, Inquisitor."

Carver blinked. "Florianne... I got a letter from her at landfall. Asked if I wouldn't accompany her to some function..."

"This ball." Marian looked to her former mentor and shrugged. "Three targets, three teams."

Leliana nodded, turning to Bethany.

"Let's save the Empress," the Inquisitor sighed.

"Let's make a statement," Leliana provided instead, looking between the three Hawkes. "We need to strategize. Now."