What was it Fenris had said? "You will be the death of me, Hawke." The damned broody elf might actually be right about something for a change.

The most dangerous part of Hawke's plan was concocting a cock and bull story to explain how a Tranquil mage just disappears from the Gallows for two days and then just reappears pretty as you please. That would be why, now that they had smuggled Marian back into Kirkwall, they were waiting in Anders' clinic for one last person to join them.

"Once you're back inside," Aveline said for what felt like the tenth time, "what are you going to do?"

Marian fiddled with the hood of her robe, pushing it back to clear her peripheral vision before pulling it forward again to cover her forehead and the brand. "First I'm going to find out who is with Ser Alrik. I want to see which templars can be trusted to do what is right, and I want to know who falls in between."

Anders listened while he tore strips of donated cloth into bandages, swept, paced, rearranged his meager stock of herbs and tinctures, paced, and yes, paced some more. They were taking action against the templars, he should be pleased, but that didn't stop the creeping fear he had for Marian.

"Couldn't you just ask your brother?" asked Aveline. Anders cheered her silently, glad that someone else didn't want Marian going back into the Gallows.

"Yes," said Carver, looming in the clinic door in his templar armor. "Couldn't you just ask me? Or am I not good enough for you?"

Hawke went still before turning toward her brother with all the eagerness of a condemned man facing the noose.

"Carver," she breathed before crossing the room almost at a run to throw her arms around him.

The look of shock on his face was nearly comical. He patted her back once before putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her away.

"Blight, they really did it," he said in something like awe. Then, to Anders' surprise, he scowled. "If anyone could manage to escape Tranquility it would be you. You never could let well enough alone."

Marian took a step back, tilting her head up at her brother, frowning. "So sorry, brother. Did you like me better the other way? No more worrying about big sis stealing your thunder?"

Anders wondered how one family could produce two such different people. He had met Leandra and she was a good woman. Carver was, as Aveline put it, a tit.

Carver's face flushed a hectic red. "I didn't—"

"Yes you did," Marian said, folding her arms as though to protect herself.

Anders held his breath, darting a look to see the others watching Carver with barely restrained hostility. Aveline moved to stand behind Marian before Marian glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. This was between her and her brother.

"I got you out of there, didn't I?" he snapped. "I'm risking everything again just being here, but nothing's ever good enough for the great Hawke."

"Carver…." She unfolded her arms and held her hands out to him. "Thank you for getting me out of the Gallows, and thank you for protecting me. Thank you. But this isn't helping. Can you stop acting like I did this to make your life harder? I'm not the one who made me Tranquil and I wasn't the one who came up with a mad scheme to do something no one has ever managed before and make me not Tranquil."

"About that," Carver said, still looking as welcoming as a lump of stone – the kind that always tears up your hands when you fall on it, Anders thought, " How did they do it?"

"It's a long story," Marian said. "Involving ancient elven magic, apostate mages, crazy friends, jaunts to the Fade, a somniari, Justice, and Compassion. One of these days I'll let Varric tell it properly for me."

Carver narrowed his eyes before suddenly reaching out to push her hood off her forehead. "Mother can't see that," he said, indicating the brand.

"I know," Marian said. "Have you seen her? Does she know…?"

"That you're 'Tranquil.'" He snorted derisively. "Some Tranquil you are. Yes, I saw her. They sent me to the estate to look for you. I had to tell her what happened and I wasn't alone, so I couldn't even tell her that you were safe."

Hawke looked down and away, whispering something Anders couldn't hear.

"How did she take it?" Carver asked, responding to her whisper. "How do you think she took it? She was devastated. Then she blamed me. She said it was my fault for drawing attention to the family by becoming a templar. She didn't even think about all the ways you were always drawing attention to yourself."

"I have to see her," Marian said, barely loud enough for Anders to hear this time. "I can't let her think I'm…. I have to see her. I need my other staff, my robes. I need to replace everything the templars took from me when they took me."

"No." Carver's tone was implacable. "No, you can't go to the estate. You can't see Mother. They've stationed a templar inside the estate in case someone brings you there."

"I have to see her!" Marian shouted, startling everyone with her ferocity. "I can't leave her grieving me!"

She tried to push past him toward the clinic door, but Carver caught her arm.

"Let me go," she snarled, jerking her arm out of his grasp. Her eyes flared with blue fire and Anders saw the first crackles of Fade energy dance along her arms.

Carver stumbled back, looking at his sister with horror. "What did they do to you?"

Anders hurried forward to intervene.

"We'll help you," he murmured in her ear, calming her the way he might a patient in pain. "We won't leave Leandra alone in this, but you have to calm yourself. I know it's hard, but you have to. Be. Calm."

While he spoke he drew her away from Carver, putting himself against her back and using an arm around her waist to draw her back step by step. He had never trusted her brother, and since he became a templar, as far as Anders was concerned he was an enemy who just hadn't hoisted the flag of war yet.

Varric came to their rescue, knowing that none of them trusted Carver with the secret that his sister was an abomination.

"The Fade connection isn't stable," he lied smoothly. "Like the lady said, it was a mad scheme. We might as well have chopped her hand off, sewed it back on, and expected her to play the lute. We did the best we could, but she's going to need time to adjust."

"I'll say," Carver agreed, still watching Marian while Anders soothed her and the blue fire faded away. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a temper now."

Marian shook in Anders' hold, but she managed to get herself back under control. She forced a smile and let her weight rest against him. "Oops," she said. "I think I'm sloshing a little. Getting Fade all over the place, I hope I didn't ruin your rug, Anders."

Anders instantly regretted that Merrill had told Marian the story of how it was Justice "sloshing" out of Anders onto Marian that had given them the seed of the idea of how to help her.

"Sweetheart," he joked, looking down at the clinic's dirt floor, "I will get a rug just so you can slosh on it."

Isabela wolf whistled. "Can I watch? Will you do that electricity thing?"

Hawke sounded more like herself as she said, "Please stop talking. Now."

She looked back at her brother. "You're right, I can't see Mother, but you can." She hurried to go on when he frowned. "Take her a letter. Mother raised two apostates, I know we can trust her to keep a secret. Just let me send her a letter letting her know that I'm me and not Tranquil, and you could put my things down in the cellar and I'll go in through the secret passage to get them."

She bit her lip and used the one weapon her brother was particularly weak against. "Please?"

• • •

After Marian's display of Compassion, there was no way any of her friends were going to let her go through with her plan to infiltrate the Gallows. Once Carver was sent on his way with a letter for Leandra and a list of equipment for Marian, they gathered to talk some sense into her.

"The first time you see something that makes you feel like you just have to stop someone's suffering, you're going to lose it," Varric stated while the others nodded in agreement. "It was a good idea, Hawke, a heroic idea, but I'll tie you down myself if you try to follow through with it."

"I'll check the knots," Isabela offered. "Just to be sure."

"And I will guard the door," Fenris added.

"Face it, Hawke," Aveline said. "This is too dangerous. You aren't stable and you would undo everything we've done for you if you got caught in the Gallows."

"There are other ways," Anders offered. "The mage underground knows of Ser Alrik, and I know a way into the Gallows that won't get her caught. We could go together that way." He clenched his hands into fists. "Even if we don't do it Hawke's way, he has to be stopped. He is the worst of the templars and his Tranquil Solution will see every mage made Tranquil, whether they've survived their Harrowing or not."

They could all see Marian trying to find a way to argue them out of their decision, but eventually she slumped and said, "Fine. We'll do it your way, Anders. Just as soon as I have my staff and equipment."

"Tomorrow," Isabela said firmly. "I am not fighting templars when my arse feels blistered from those blighted horses."

"I thought you'd be used to a blistered arse, Rivaini," Varric joked.

"I could blister your arse," she retorted, mock-punching his shoulder. "But for you I would charge."

Varric made a show of rubbing his shoulder. "Too rich for my blood. I already spent all the coin I won off you and Fenris in diamondback on those horses."

"We could all use some rest," Aveline agreed. "And I should check in on my men." She laid a hand on Marian's shoulder. "Tomorrow, Hawke. Ser Alrik will be too busy chasing your shadow to make anyone Tranquil before then."

Anders sighed with relief. Ser Alrik was a menace, but he was a powerful menace. They would all need to be at their best to confront the man and survive. Maker knew he hated templars, but he feared them. A mage who did not fear templars with their power to drain away a magic user's mana was a fool. A dead or Tranquil one.

He found it in himself to smile and turned to rummage a jar of salve from his supplies, tossing to Isabela. "For the blisters. Maybe you can find someone to rub it on for you."

Isabela snatched it out of the air. "Thanks." She cast a glance around the circle of friends. "So, who wants to help me with my saddle sores? Varric?"

Varric shook his head. "Bianca would be jealous."

"Fenris?"

The elf cut his eyes over to Marian and shook his head.

Isabela raised an eyebrow at Aveline before shaking her head. "Not you, big girl, I think I'd come out the worse for wear with that one. That leaves you, Merrill."

Merrill blinked in surprise. "Me? But um… I'm no good at healing."

"That's okay, kitten," Isabela said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. "You just have to be good at following directions."

Varric watched the two women go before clearing his throat. "And on that note, I'll be getting back to the Hanged Man. I'll keep my ears open for any stories about missing Tranquil. We'll see how locked down the templars are keeping this."

He clasped Marian's shoulder. "Will you be okay?"

She put a hand over his. "I'll stay here with Anders. It's the safest place for me right now, and you know what they say, two apostates are better than one."

He chuckled and squeezed her shoulder. "Try not to blow anything up without me, Hawke."

"I'll see what I can do."

Aveline shifted uncomfortably before walking after Varric. "Tomorrow, Hawke."

"I wouldn't miss it," Marian called after her.

Fenris remained, making a show of paying most of his attention to his feet. Shifting his balance, shuffling his bare feet in the dirt, picking them up to brush bits of grit off the soles before putting them down again to get dirty just as soon as they touched the ground.

"Fenris?" Marian asked. "Shouldn't you go get some rest, too?"

"I want to talk to you. Without him," he said, pointing a finger at Anders.

"Well excuse me, but this is my clinic," Anders said, folding his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Anders, please?"

Those blue eyes could almost make a templar melt, and Anders was not as hard-hearted as a templar. He sighed and said, "Fine."

He waited outside the doors to the clinic, straining to hear anything from inside, but all he heard was the low rumble of Fenris speaking and Marian's lighter tones responding. It was a serious discussion with no laughter or even that tone he associated with Marian's teasing, but neither raised their voices in anger.

When the conversation stopped, he peeked around the corner to see Marian standing, her arms around Fenris. His heart sank when she drew back to kiss him, holding his face still with her palms on his cheeks. His pulse roared in his ears in a fury of jealousy before the two parted and he pulled his head back before either saw that he had been watching.

He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to think of anything else – kittens, puppies, templars exploding in sprays of blood, but nothing helped. He could see Marian kissing Fenris the way she had kissed Anders in the Dalish camp. He wanted to scream, it's not fair! But who was he to say what was fair when it came to her heart?

He didn't hear Fenris' footsteps; the elf moved lightly for a warrior, his armor made no sound.

"Be good to her," Fenris growled, making Anders' eyes snap open, his pulse race with surprise. "Break her heart and I will kill you."

Anders could see in the man's eyes that it was an absolute promise. He swallowed and nodded. Fenris sneered and stalked away.

"Anders?" Marian called. "Could you come here?"