Noonday sunlight flitted through plumes of dust as a half dozen mages donned handkerchief face masks and brandished brooms. The tower they descended upon had been dilapidated and missing a ceiling less than a week ago. Now it was whole but filthy with the remains of the construction as sawdust and chips of stone littered the floorboards and everything else in sight. The mages were undaunted in their task. What was a bit more scrubbing if it meant having a tower to conduct their studies? Not a cage but a home, a place to feel safe. And in there midsts stood the person responsible for that sanctuary, a grey haired elf with pale tattoos who led the charge with broom at the ready.

They had decided to split into teams and to tackle the individual floors at the same time. It took hours before any true progress could be seen and even then there wasn't much to look at.

"It'll look better once we put some proper bookshelves in." An elderly man with a sun leathered face and a shock of red hair sighed, pulled the mask from his face with one crooked finger. "And maybe some really comfortable chairs. That would be nice wouldn't it?"

"I'm more curious about what kind of alchemy equipment we can fit in here," another retorted. A freckled youth, no more that fifteen years and just hitting that age of easy disappointment in the world. "All this sun and warm might be fine for your reading Enchanter Arin, but I'm not so sure about brewing in here. It seems a little cramped."

"You know the Inquisition already has a fair amount of alchemy equipment set up down in the undercroft, yes?" Lavellan pointed out after tossing yet another pan-full of debris outside.

The lad's response was pure mumble as he pushed the bristles of his broom against already swept floorboards.

"I think what Thomas is trying to say is, while the Inquisition has been more than welcoming to we mages… there's still a fair bit of mistrust going around. Imposing on what trust we've earned…"

"It's hardly imposing, you're all part of the Inquisition." Lavellan let his shoulders fall slightly and shook his head. "If you'd like, I will ask Arcanist Dagna if she'd mind moving the necessary equipment out of the undercroft if that would make everyone more comfortable."

"Wait...Dagna's here?!" Thomas' face now wore a wide eyed grin. "Bout this tall, red haired and always excited?"

"...yes?"

Thomas didn't even wait for Lavellan to finish before he was hurrying for the door.

"Oy lad, put your broom back were it belongs before you go running off." Enchanter Arin called after him but Thomas was already gone. Just as the door started to swing shut after him, it swung back once more to admit one tall and tanned, male human.

"What's the kid's hurry?" the man asked, patting dust and dirt from a long grey coat tied at the waist with a broad red sash.

"Off to see an old friend it would seem." Lavellan answered, fetching Thomas' discarded broom from the ground and setting it up along a nearby table.

"You'll have to forgive the boy, Kinloch hold didn't have much in the way of friendly faces. If it is the same lady dwarf as I recall, then she would count as one of the very few bright spots to be found there." Enchanter Arin explained as he leaned against his own broom for support. The newcomer merely shrugged and closed the door behind him.

"Still leaves us short a pair of hands," noted Lavellan, wiping grime and sweat from his forehead with a bit of his sleeve. "Unless you came to lend us one…?"

"Actually I came to speak with you," related the man and likely mage, judging by the three headed dragon staff slung across his back. "Varric said I might find you here."

"Ah well, what did you need then?" Lavellan set his rag and pan aside before hurriedly cleaning his hands off on his thigh and offering the non glowing one in greeting. "Also I'm terribly sorry but I haven't had a chance to learn everyone's name yet."

The man accepted the handshake but looked a touch bewildered. "Did Varric not mention I was coming? I figured he'd tell you at the very least."

Lavellan got the distinct impression he'd forgotten something important. He gave this stranger a much more probing once over trying to figure out what he was on about. He was a few inches taller than Cey himself, with short, rough cut, black hair that spiked upward in the front and deep-set eyes. The shadow of a beard gave otherwise boyish cheeks a roguish charm and there was a thin red tattoo around his left eye with a scar running across a slightly crooked nose.

When Lavellan merely raised a brow at him he chuckled.

"Or did the chantry really not put wanted posters all over Like Varric said they did? Either way we should probably take this conversation in private."

Realization broke over Lavellan's face before being chased off by a wry smile. "You're probably right about that." He canted his head towards the stairs behind him. "We can walk the ramparts, seeing as it's probably not a good idea to cross the training ground right now."

Hawke didn't really have a response for that so settled for following the Inquisitor upwards. Once on the battlements, it was easier to find a modicum of privacy. Or at least to know they wouldn't be overheard.

"Sorry for not recognising you but when Varric said he was calling in a friend I wasn't sure who to expect. He seems to know someone no matter where we are."

"Tell me about it." Hawke had found himself a comfy spot on the stone walkway and eased himself down with his back against a parapet. The man looked bone weary, scrappy and every bit as good humored about it all as Varric had described in his books. It felt a little odd to be standing on the same roof. "So you'll forgive me if I skip most of the 'how do you do's and 'well met's. I'm bout half dead and it's a bloody long walk from… well it's better if you don't know." Hawke gave a playful pat to the ground next to him. "Let's get started then."

To Hawke's surprise, Lavellan actually took the offered seat.

"Varric thought you might have some insight into our current situation."

Hawke laughed at that, and then coughed as some grit from the journey got stuck in his throat. "From what I hear you already dropped a mountain on the bastard. Not sure anything I have to tell you would be much more helpful."

"At this point, I'll take any help I can get. The whole world's a mess right now." Lavellan let his head rest back against the shaded stone and watched the clouds as they drifted past. "Ancient evils, sky tearing itself to shreds, everybody fighting everyone else. Does it ever stop?"

Kirkwall's champion looked thoughtful at that, following the line of distant soldiers as they patrolled. "Honestly I'm not sure. I can't really think of a time when something wasn't exploding or bleeding or on fire. Hell, hang around with my friends long enough and you're likely to see all three at once." Some distant memory brought a slight smirk to his face as he said more quietly, "but if you can't find the time to enjoy life, then you make it for yourself. I'm not sure people like us can do much else."

They sat in silence for a bit after that, watching and feeling weary. Until Lavellan broke it with a simple and complicated question phrased as an observation.

"I'm a little surprised you're here alone."

"It's hard to explain. Honestly not sure I could if I tried." Hawke had one arm thrown around a raised knee and the other resting in his lap yet he still managed to seem restless, like a spell held in the hand too long. "I'm never happy leaving Anders alone. Having that damned spirit inside him doesn't exactly help either. But when Varric asked me to come I couldn't say no. I also couldn't just bring Anders with me… for obvious reasons."

"Thank you, for coming I mean."

"Not much choice there," Hawke grumbled before exhaling some held frustration. "You'd think killing something would make it stay down but apparently darkspawn don't play by the rules."

"Pretty sure that's why we keep Wardens around."

"Yeah, provided they don't start vanishing without a bloody trace. Hell, they were the ones that locked Corypheus away in the first place for all the good it's done. Course him getting out is probably more my fault than theirs... still." Hawke managed to sound both frustrated and self effacing at the same time. " I had a contact in the Wardens checking on possible corruption you see, and then I get a letter from Varric, 'Chuckles, Corypheus is back, could really use your help.' And now I'm here, up a mountain and ass deep in trouble again."

"Fun isn't it? Being needed."

"Ha! I can see why Varric likes you." Hawke gave Lavellan's shoulder a friendly slap before returning to the topic at hand. "Can't say I'm keen on the idea that the two are connected but..."

"I hope not," breathed Lavellan, "it's bad enough that Corypheus has the Venatori, demons and the red templars. I'd rather not see the Wardens join the list."

"Hey I didn't come to deliver all bad news. That contact I mentioned? I asked him to look into this Corypheus business to see if there was any connection between him and the disappearances. Last I heard he had something for us, said to meet him in Crestwood. It's a village in Ferelden."

"Well that's something at least."

"That's the spirit," drawled Hawke as he stood with a stretch and then offered Lavellan a hand up. "I can meet you there or travel with you if you like."

"I think meeting there would be best… some of my colleagues might be a bit ups…"

"Inquisitor," from the doorway leading back to the staircase floated a thick nevarran accent followed swiftly by Cassandra's striding step. "I wonder if I might have a w…" And that was the moment she saw them. Or more specifically, saw Hawke.

"Champion? What are you doing…" She looked like she wanted to say more but so strong was her need to frown that her lips pressed shut and cut her words short. Her breathing grew faster, her brows narrowed and her shoulders rose until they were square. Then she turned on a heel and stormed back the way she had come.

"What just happened?" Hawke had been about to introduce himself properly, it always felt a touch weird when people called him Champion. "Do I even want to know?"

"No time to explain." Lavellan had already taken off after the seeker, near positive he knew where she was heading. "Come on, I may need an extra set of hands."

"You conniving little shit."

"You kidnapped interrogated me! What did you expect?!"

It's not so easy keeping pace with a long legged woman hell bent on wringing a roguish dwarf's neck. By the time Hawke and the Inquisitor had caught up with Cassandra she'd already found Varric and only the dwarf's honed reflexes and the fortunate placement of a table kept her gauntlet clad fist from connecting with his scruffy jaw.

"Hey, enough!" Lavellan jumped up and over the rail scrambling to get between them as Varric tried to put more jaw-sparing tables between himself and Cassandra's anger. With a new target in sight, the Seeker's ire swerved and collided with her disbelief.

"You're taking his side?" Spying Hawke trying to reach Varric's position only made that disbelief ring harder.

"I said, ENOUGH."

Never, had Lavellan raised his voice to Cassandra before, and the room rang with the sound.

Her shoulders slumped instinctively, her own voice lowering even as she glowered at all of them.

"We needed someone to lead this Inquisition." Like a child being scolded for a fight they didn't start, Cassandra began pacing between the strewn chairs. "First Leliana and I asked the Hero of Ferelden but she refused. 'Too much bad blood between Orlais and Ferelden to have the queen take up under the Chantry's Banner like that.' " Her gaze shifted and narrowed as it landed on Varric and a very lost looking Hawke. "Then we looked for Hawke… but he had vanished."

"In my defense…" Hawke swallowed under the weight of the Seeker's edged stare. Her and Aveline could have exchanged tips on making him feel like a guilty child. "I had good reason to think the Chantry wanted me for more than just my boyish good looks."

"The Inquisition has a leader." Varric spat back, posturing himself possessively in front of Hawke. When Cassandra took a few angry steps forward, Varric continued to stare her down.

She tilted her head and growled between clenched teeth.

"Hawke would have been at the conclave." her hands clenched and unclenched rising to point at Varric from across the room. "And you kept him from us." again her fingers balled into a fist before falling to her side. "If anyone could have saved Most Holy…"

"Varric's not responsible for what happened at the conclave!" Hawke retorted while stepping to the dwarf's side. "There wouldn't even have been a need for the conclave if I had stopped Ander's insane plan." He placed a hand on Varric's shoulder and the two exchanged a look. "If you're going to punch someone, it should be me."

"Look, no one is punching anyone." Lavellan rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled slowly. "What's done is done. You can't change the past Cassandra."

"So what… I have to accept that the Maker meant for this to happen?" She looked to Lavellan with an expression now softened with sorrow and things unsaid. "That he…That Most Holy…" But it wouldn't last. Like a shield rising to cover what hurt most, Cassandra's visage grew hard once more. "Varric is a liar Inquisitor. A snake. Even after the Conclave when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept him from us."

"I was protecting my friend!" Varric shot back and suddenly Hawke's hand on his shoulder was not merely comforting him but holding the rogue back. "You people have done enough to him."

"Varric…" Hawke started to say but Varric cut him off with an angry shake of his head.

"No, I'm tired of this. Everyone always expects you to solve their problems. To throw your neck on the line so they don't have to."

"Good people DIED BECAUSE YOU KEPT HIM FROM US!"

"Stop it both of you!" There was the sharp scent of burnt ozone as Lavellan's voice and presence crackled with energy unspent. "Fighting with each other isn't going to get us anywhere." He'd lowered his voice once more but the air remained just as tense.

When Cassandra finally dropped her gaze and turned away, Hawke found he could breathe again. If this was what it had been Like for Varric since the Seeker had shown up at the Amell estate then Hawke owed him more than just a few drinks.

"Perhaps you are right," Cassandra said quietly, her voice thin and defeated. "I cannot dwell on what might have been. We have so much at stake." She stepped further away from them, eventually leaning on a far table with her back still turned. "Go, just go."

No one wanted to be the first to move. Glances became looks and were exchanged until Hawke nudged Varric's shoulder and nodded towards the stairs. With some coaxing he was able to steer his friend in that direction with one last look back at the Inquisitor to see if the elf planned to join them. Lavellan had already walked to Cassandra's side by then, his arm up and around her shoulders as he said something Hawke couldn't hear. He left them to it, he had his own friend to calm down and that took precedent.

It was much later when Lavellan was able to seek out Varric, finding he, Hawke and Blackwall of all people, tucked away at a corner table and deep into a bottle of whiskey. Blackwall was the first to notice his presence.

"Inquisitor," Blackwall called with a wave before offering Lavellan the only other chair at their table. "Hawke was just saying he might have a lead on my fellow Wardens."

The aforementioned mage was nursing his drink and watching Blackwall with an unreadable expression. Varric on the other hand was grimacing into his glass and only frowned harder when he saw Lavellan.

"Yes, we should be heading out within the next day or so." Lavellan laid a hand on the offered chair but didn't sit. "Forgive me Warden, but I need to speak to Varric and the Champion alone for a moment."

Blackwall looked confused for a moment but didn't question it, quite accustomed to following orders without knowing the motivation behind them. "Of course. I'll be at the bar if anyone needs me."

"Thank you."

When he was out of earshot, Lavellan looked to the two remaining. "Soooo… that got a bit heated didn't it?"

"Hmph, that's one way to put it." Varric snorted with a bitter chuckle into another mouthful of whiskey.

"Are you alright?" asked Lavellan, much to Hawke's surprise. The other mage had expected and been prepared to rebuff a lecture from the Inquisition's leader. Instead the elf looked genuinely concerned.

"That depends. How mad is Cassandra?" Varric countered though there was no anger left in him.

Lavellan sank into the chair he'd been leaning on and rested his face in his hand. "She blames herself of course. For everything no less, not just for believing you."

"I wasn't trying to keep secrets. I told the Inquisition everything that seemed important…" Varric took another drink and swallowed hard. "At the time…"

"I know. Even if you were keeping Hawke's whereabouts a secret I wouldn't blame you." Lavellan assured though he was still rubbing at tired eyes. "No one could have known what was going to happen at the conclave. All the more reason why Cassandra shouldn't blame you nor herself."

"Would it help if I talked to her?" Hawke spoke up at last, still feeling slightly out of the loop. It had been too long since he and Varric had been able to grab a drink together and now they were in the midst of another mess. One he should have prevented before it even began.

"You can try. But I wouldn't chance it tonight. Let her gather her thoughts." With a tired wave Lavellan got Cabot's attention and motioned for a drink. The elf rarely drank unless he had company. Whether that was a dalish thing or just because there weren't enough hours in the day to indulge like that wasn't really clear. "Seeing as the cat is out of the bag, I suggest traveling with us to Crestwood."

"Sure that's a good idea, Scarecrow?"

"I don't see why not. Scout Harding and her team should get there a little ahead of us provided we meet no resistance on the road and set off tomorrow."

"Bright and early then?" Hawke asked with naked disappointment.

"Afraid so. The sooner we head out the sooner we can hopefully lay this mess to bed." Though he was apologetic, Lavellan would not be swayed, no matter how Hawke groaned or made a show of resting his head cheek down on the table.

"Ugh don't talk of beds, I can't even remember the last time I saw a proper one." Hawke puffed his cheeks out and blew his breath out with a huff.

"Don't tell me you and Blondie have been hiding out in caves this whole time…"

"I'm not saying one way or the other."

"Oh Hawke, I tried to warn you…"

"About which part? The 'Hawke how the hell did you let this happen?' part or the 'Well now you've got to fix it,' part?"

"I never said…"

"I know Varric." Hawke let out a long slow breath, reaching without looking for his friend's gloved hand and giving it a pat. "It's just been a long day."

Lavellan took that as his cue to excuse himself.