Standard Disclaimer: Bioware owns all Dragon Age characters and in game content. I own the bits that are left.

Chapter 9 – The Chaos Within

The land was gripped in typical Ferelden cold, with snowflakes whirling around them blown hither and thither, by the freezing strong winds. The Enchanters shivered in their Chantry sanctioned enchanter robes while the templars who should have fared better in their heavy armour, having padded tunics and breeches underneath their dense plate, were just as affected by the frosty temperature after getting accustomed to the excessive heat of an Antivan climate.

The group's mood was just as frosty. It was as if a silent line had been drawn between the templars and the mages despite the camaraderie they had shared on board the ship. Irving quickly settled payment with Cedric for the extra cargo and their crossing of the Amaranthine Ocean while standing huddled together with Wynne and Ines for warm, the templars lingering noticeably more than six feet behind them. It was almost as if either the enchanter robes or the templar armour had an enchantment that physically repelled the other or, perhaps, it was simply that the uniforms reminded them of their supposedly opposed stance.

Greagoir was greatly disconcerted when Ines had refused his hand offered in aid to her for stepping off the gangplank. He only hoped that she was not off on that wild notion to let go of him for his own good again. He grew more discomfited when her gaze slid off him like he was one of the numerous bollards that dotted the docks after thanking and refusing him firmly. He felt literally tied in knots and dazed with her blowing hot and cold so abruptly, definitely not because of anything he did, at least he hoped he had not done anything to warrant this most recent of reactions.

They were in Highever, the port closest to Kinloch Hold. After bidding Cedric a brusque farewell, Irving hurriedly led them to the town's mews and paid the fees for stabling their horses. They had left them there before boarding the Ferelden II to Antiva. It seemed less of a hassle than to send them back to the Circle Tower and waiting for them to be sent back when they returned from their trip. He wanted to set off for the Circle Tower once they had made the necessary arrangements to send on Wynne's packages with their other luggage. Irving only hoped the halla would be able to keep up with the horses as he had no intention of hiring a wagon just for it. That would only slow them down and he had every intention of making haste to the Circle Tower. He was never one who liked unresolved situations or missing vital information on anything related to his future.

While they were waiting for the stable boys to saddle the horses, Ines rubbed her hands rapidly together hoping to generate some heat to warm her already numb fingers. "I don't know about you, Neria. Maker knows that I'm a Ferelden born and bred but this cold, after that your warm and friendly Antivan weather, is too much for me to endure." The words had barely left her mouth when a Heroic Defence sprang around her, very effectively shielding them from the icy wind. Curious, Ines looked towards Wynne. She shook her head ever so slightly to indicate that it was not her doing before gazing wonderingly at the baby in Ines' arms.

So far the child had displayed a surprising aptitude for a wide range of spells. Most were cast without incantation or hand gestures. The templars were most perplexed about it but mostly just shrugged off her antics. She was only a babe after all and it helped that she always cooed so prettily at them when they carried her. Ines suspected that they were all in love with her, not that they would admit it. However, the fact that no one could have taught Neria any spells at such an early age was an issue they would have to address before the Chantry deemed her too dangerous to be allowed to live.

Their progress was slower than Irving had hoped for. Not because the halla could not keep up but as they had to stop regularly, every three hours in fact, to milk it for Neria's consumption. At each tavern they passed through, Irving listened to Wynne engaging the innkeeper in gossip and grew more alarmed as the tales, about what had happened at the Circle Tower, grew more bizarre the closer they got to it. Irving did not know what to make of the rumours, of which there were several.

The First Enchanter Remille had aligned himself with a darksprawn… He poisoned King Maric and Grey Wardens then imprisoned them in the Circle Tower… He forced the entire Ferelden Circle of Magi to wage war against Loghain Mac Tar, the Hero of River Dane… The entire templar force at the Circle Tower had been decimated by blood magic…

If even half of the rumours were true, he greatly feared for the wellbeing of all those within the Circle Tower. Indeed, he wondered if there was even a Ferelden Circle of Magi left and they, Irving, Wynne and Ines, were not the last remnants of it. Tension that had started once they disembarked from the Ferelden II escalated within the group till it is nigh palpable. Heavy silence reigned each night not spent in a tavern with the two factions not speaking to the other and everything communicated through whispers within one's own group or pointed looks between them. When they were fortunate enough to find a tavern with enough rooms to house all of them, they retired each night to their beds after separate dinners without any preamble from anyone.

Everyone was edgy and skittish, startling at the slightest noise due to the lack of it within the group. The horses picked up on this, making them skittish as well, which did not make them any easier to ride and slowed their journey even further, much to Irving's irritation.

His heart had been deeply troubled during the voyage and did not ease throughout the journey to the Circle Tower. He realised not having Remille around to be the First Enchanter meant that either he had to be First Enchanter, losing the quiet and settled life he had envisioned with Wynne, or refuse, if that was even an option available to him, and bear the consequences, for which there surely would be.

It was a position fraught with difficult choices and even more difficult decisions to make as he already knew as Remille's second. Unfortunately, he could not ignore the fact that if Remille had fallen, the burden of the position was most likely to be his and then all that he had come to hold dear might be lost to him because of some stupid Orlesian's thirst for power. That was surely the reason for Remille's otherwise inconceivable actions. Having been his second for the past three years had given Irving a very clear understanding of how the man thinks and his innermost motivations. In fact, he knew that he was only selected to be Remille's second as the other was very much aware of his own lack of ambition. He refused to dwell any further on it without more real and accurate information. He must press on and get it from the source.

Wynne was noticeably sullen as well. Irving had not allowed her close since they had disembarked, always managing to, somehow, evade her questing hands and lips. For the first time in her life and their relationship, doubts were plaguing her. Was she forcing him to accept her? She had always been the pursuer in their courtship. Irving, ever the taciturn gentleman, never actively sought her attention, affection or touch. Would he have in the first place? Was he even attracted to her? Was the First Enchanter position a better option for him than their love? It was the most prestigious position a mage could have in Ferelden after all. What if he did not really love her and it was all a matter of him giving in to her manipulations? The dark thoughts swirled constantly in her mind during the journey, sinking her in a mire that she could not extricate herself from. She shook her head grimly. She will fight this. She will fight for her love like she always had. She had pursued Irving for eighteen years after all, more than half her life, she was not going to give up now.

Ines did not know what to make of the mood but did not care to comment, her thoughts churning franticly around the occupants of her precious greenhouse. Some of the specimens within it were, literally, one of a kind, plants that she had painstakingly cross bred with two or more different kinds to enhance the quality of its healing properties. Besides this, the occupants of the stables were also on her mind. She sincerely hoped that they were unharmed, fed and well looked after. They were not in any state to be able to fend for themselves. In addition, she had her hands full with juggling Neria while struggling to keep her seat. She was never much of a rider. Although, surprisingly enough, on this trip, her mare did not once misbehave or step off the path as she was wont to do. Privately, Ines wondered if this was another one of Neria's numerous talents.

The only one who seemed oblivious to the hostilities was little Neria. Her bright smiles and melodious coos never failed to charm the tavern keepers, bar maids or, Maker forbid, any breathing creature, human or otherwise, they happened across. It was truly a sight to behold, birds singing as if in symphony above her, rabbits popping out from their barrows to peer shyly at her. They scattered the moment any others in their group were close but discretely followed at a distance until Ines, and therefore, Neria, were out of sight. Some came close to touching her, always in curiosity, but there was no doubt in Ines' mind that Neria was never in any danger from them. She would softly coo and reach out with her little hand and the animal in question would gently butt it with beak or muzzle. Ines greatly hoped that the templars would not think to report this as well for it was the most unusual of all talents they had ever seen. If she had her way and the talent did not diminish once Neria grew a little older, she would have her explaining how it was done. Four or five years should be a good age for her to start her explanation.

Greagoir started noticeably when Bran called out for him to join them in the hunt. They were camping again tonight. It was less than a day from Kinloch Hold and there were no villages in this direction near it. Civilians normally kept well away, fearing the taint of magic. He never really understood this. Then again, he was a templar and not afraid of something he felt was perfectly controllable. The only uncontrollable thing was the mind. His was throwing up images that did nothing to ease the now perpetual ache in his loins that started since they disembarked from the ship. He did nothing to provoke it, did everything he could think of to stop only to find himself in a daze caused by indulging in the fantasies cast by his unruly brain. He stood up, dusting off the light cover of snow gathered on his templar skirts, and wondered how long he had been in a daydream this time. His traitorous eyes sought out the individual imprisoning his mind and heart before he could stop himself. As always, she seemed fixated on the small bundle in her arms.

Greagoir felt an irrational but strong wave of jealousy rising within him again. Once they were back at the Circle, there would be others to care for Neria. He would have Ines all to himself again. For now he stepped up to Bran and Hadley who had been waiting impatiently for him get started hunting. If they did not hunt, there would be nothing to eat.

Most mages were hopeless at finding food for themselves in the wild, present company included. They were simply never taught how. It helped to keep them within the Circle Tower when they realised that they did not know how to fend for themselves in the outside world. That was the reason first time escapees were never made Tranquil. They were simply too thankful to return to the Circle Tower, with six meals provided daily, all without them lifting a finger. It was too much of a luxury for most to deny and most would not make another attempt.

Only Senior Enchanters were taught the rudimentary ways of the world. It helped to reduce the chances of them getting fleeced by merchants. Even so, each was given a very big allowance when they travel. They simply had no head for prices and were, almost, always overcharged for everything they bought. Other than Senior Enchanters, Harrowed mages were allowed to "earn" their keep by teaching, healing or potion making. The Chantry took huge cuts from any jobs outside of the Circle Tower that mages took, leaving them with a pittance to ensure that no one was rich enough to bribe the other servants or, sometimes even, templars into aiding in their escape. The mages were even encouraged to spend their coins on innocent indulgences like books, robes, jewellery and other frivolous things that ensured their continued poverty and, thus, dependence on the Chantry's forbearance. It had been like this since Circles were established all over Thedas after the fall of the Tevinter Empire. Greagoir could only wonder which of the Chantry's founders had such a devilish mind.

Irving heaved an audible sigh of relief on seeing the spire of Kinloch Hold in the distance. He missed the place. It had always been a home to him, a safe haven from his abusive but, ironically, Maker fearing father and magic hating mother. He had been saved from being drowned by his own parents by a travelling templar and taken to the Circle Tower at the age of six. He had grown to love the place, which others often thought as cold and forbidding. To him, it was a place where he was accepted and protected from others who did not understand him or the gift he was born with.

Urging his horse to a quicker pace, he hastened onwards without even thinking to stop for lunch much to Wynne and Ines' annoyance. While Neria was normally a very well-mannered baby, if she was left too hungry, she tended to start sobbing so heartbreakingly that travellers would turn accusing eyes at the mages, seeming to think they were abusing the poor baby. In addition, not to make too much of an issue of it, Ines and Wynne concurred that strange things happened to the weather when little Neria was upset. This, they kept to themselves. As it was, there is too much ammunition against Neria's continued existence as the Chantry saw it, without them bringing more attention to this anomaly. Thus, Ines and Wynne have been ensuring that no such incident was repeated to prevent the templars from catching on.

"Irving, Neria needs to be fed soon. Let us stop and milk the halla before she starts whimpering again." Ines proposed as evenly as she could while bouncing on her saddle.

"I too need to eat something. I'm starved! You moved off before I could even have breakfast this morning." Wynne whined even as her stomach let out a growl so loud it could be heard clearly above the clops of their horses trotting on the hard packed dirt road. Blushing furiously, Wynne moaned. "What's up with your hurry in reaching the Circle Tower anyway? It's still there isn't it? It's not like the damn thing has collapsed or something."

Irving gritted out tersely. "If you had woken up when you were supposed to, you would have had time to breakfast before we broke camp. However, I suppose I don't want little Neria to get all upset from being hungry again. We'll stop once we reach the Spoilt Princess." He did not wish to explain his irrational fear that everyone he had ever known was gone, that everything he had held dear was destroyed. He just needed to see, to touch, to ensure that it was all there, not gone.

Wynne's face flushed then tightened. Without a word, she set her horse galloping down the road.

Ines pursed her lips, irritated by Irving's behaviour. "Let's get a move on then. The Spoilt Princess is still at least two hours away at our current pace." Tucking Neria closer to her, she tentatively whispered to her. "If you want to drink milk sooner, perhaps you could do something to encourage the horses to move faster?" For a moment, it seemed that her words had no effect. In the next, all the other horses in the group suddenly bolted down the road at such breakneck speed that their riders were forced to hang on for their lives or be thrown.

"Kester? Where's your father?" Wynne enquired of the young man who was standing by a small row boat as she dismounted without aid. "We need the barge to get the horses across."

"My da's helping with the construction of the new doors back at the Tower." Kester replied, securing the row boat more firmly on the single bollard on the jetty. The others dismounted as well with differing grace and skill.

Wynne's eyebrows rose. "New doors? What's wrong with the old ones?" She could not fathom any need to replace the large doors made of Avvar stone and dwarven built to last through the ages.

"The Hero of River Dane blew a great big hole in the wall through the front courtyard to rescue the king, he did." Turning to gaze at the horses the group was leading, he remarked. "Not sure where you might place them beasts, the stables were destroyed."

Ines' heart sank. "The animals? The greenhouse?" She whispered holding her breath in dread.

"The animals, what's left of them, which really aren't that many, are in the Circle now. Your apprentices took care of them once they, the apprentices, not the animals, were healed up. There was a terrible fire at the greenhouse cause of the blast though. Not sure if many of your plants are left, Senior Enchanter Ines." Kester winced at the look on Ines' face. "We did all we could to save everything but some of the plants did not make it cause they couldn't acc… accimi… Can't for the life of me remember the big word Senior Enchanter Beatrice used but, well, some just couldn't make it even after we saved it from the fire. She's looking after the rest that did, waiting for your return."

"Acclimatise." Ines remarked absentmindedly as her head swirled and she felt thoroughly heartsick. Years of research and cultivation destroyed by some hero who did not have the decency to take care that his rescue harmed no innocents, even if those innocents were not human, elf or dwarf. If she ever, ever laid eyes on him, she would give him a piece of her mind in a very painful way. "The Tower? Was there any damage to the library or the mages' quarters?" It would take many years but if her vellums of research were safe, perhaps, she might avoid having to go through all the trials and errors she had previously endured to achieve success.

"Not so sure about that, Senior Enchanter Ines. Let me go get the barge and you can see for yourselves."

The front courtyard was a charred mess. Trees, previously lush green and provided much shade on the few hot Ferelden summers, stood like gloomy skeleton soldiers guarding a freshly trodden path towards a pair of heavy steel doors set before a blackened vestige of stone wall. Alford, Kester's father, was bracing one of them up while an unknown dwarf was fitting it to some mechanical contraption fixed into the thick stone.

He looked up in suspiciously at the approaching group. The sun in his eyes prevented him from making out who they were until they were directly in front of him. Realising who they were, his face broke into a welcoming grin. "Maker, it's good to see ye Sers and Senior Enchanters. The place is not the same without all of ye around running the show. Them Orlesians made a right mess of things." Looking around to ensure no one else was in the hearing. "Her holiness's here. Right tight assed bitch she be too." Greagoir gasped at the slight. Tilting his head slightly, Alford continued "Maker knows I'm a Maker fearing man but there has to be limits to piousness and lines drawn between that and hypocrisy." The twinkle in his eyes belied his scorn. "She be waiting since the week past to get to speak with ye lot. Good that ye not linger in that Maker forsaken foreign place."

"Her grace has been staying here?" Greagoir paled. There would only be one reason for the Grand Cleric to linger at the Circle Tower. Well, if the rumours were to be believed, two. He risked a quick glance at Ines but her face looked as if cast in stone and revealed just as much.

Irving was just as white if not more so. It seems most of the rumours were true. First Enchanter Remille and Knight Commander Conand were surely dead. Their appointments must be empty for the Grand Cleric to travel halfway across Ferelden from Denerim to the Circle Tower. The fact that she was still here and expecting them made it very clear who she expected to take up the newly vacant positions.

The other half of the door that had already been secured banged open, nearly knocking the dwarven workman down. He glared up at the plate armour clad figure that stood in front of the now open door. Whoever it was just ignored him, removing his helmet with a flourish.

"Ser Greagoir! You are finally back. Her Grace has been expecting you and we really need to regroup and plan out the templar duties." Bryant, who had been standing guard behind the other half of the doors, chose to speak up after hearing Alford had finished addressing them. He gazed at the bedraggled state of the group. "I'll need to fill you in before you meet her but it's best the lot of you clean up first. You know how finicky she can be." He gestured them in, motioning for them to leave the horses.

Maron, standing beside him, stifled a chuckle at that. "She made us polish all our armours to shine like mirrors. The apprentices had a field day getting them mucked up again once they recovered."

Ines' face softened. "How are they? Were many injured in the coup?"

"They're mostly fine now. Bloody Orlesians roughed them up pretty good, especially the older ones who resisted. Leorah and Cera were… " Maron grimaced, not wishing to go on seeing Wynne's and Ines' dawning looks of horror. "They are better now, much better. Beatrice is looking after them. Finn, Godwin, Niall and Petra were also hurt when they resisted but that was just smites, albeit more than they needed to keep ones so young quiet. Those were NOT my brothers in arms and it's a good thing Teyrn Loghain's troops slaughtered them or they will just escape back into the woodwork like the little worms they are." His face was mottled red at this point. "Those templars not amenable to their ridiculous scheme were fed a strong sleeping draught but the mages and apprentices were... Maybe Loghain's troops should have left a few to us, that's all I'm saying. Oh and Ines, I think they broke into your laboratory to search for the sleeping draught's recipe. It was a mess in there. Not sure if the bastards destroyed any of your work but Sweeny is tidying up in there."

Ines' heart sank further. "Is there anywhere to stable the horses?" She asked not quite sure what to do with her mount when all she wanted was to get to her research.

"There is a temporary one at the back now. Yahel, here," Bryant pointed at the scowling dwarf, "helped build it after the old one was burnt down. He is helping with the rebuilding of the greenhouse at the back as well but Her Grace wanted the new doors installed to 'prevent mages taking the chance to escape' were her words."

Ines snorted in disbelief. "If most of the mages and apprentices were injured, who is going to escape?"

Bryant raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, take it up with her. I'm not the one sticking her nose into places not appreciated. Anyway, were being the operative word here. Most of the mages and apprentices are back on their feet and it's been chaotic around here without anyone to take them in hand."

"Wynne! Ines! Irving! It's them, they're back!" A chorus of voices heralded the stomping of feet. Instantly, they were surrounded by a cacophony of voices asking questions left and right.

"Did you get us anything from Antiva?"

"Oh, please say there are sweets."

"Chocolates! Chocolates are better!"

"Were there any new spells taught during the College?"

"Is that a baby?"

A hush fell after that last question. Stiffening visibly, almost as if getting ready for a possibility of attack, Ines hugged Neria closer and answered evenly. "Yes, she is to be a new apprentice."

Maron raised an eyebrow. "A baby as an apprentice? Is this a dream? Maybe I fell asleep while guarding the damn door." He finished with a slight smirk. Neria chose that moment to coo, seeming to be greeting the young templar. Here we go again. Ines thought wily, and sure enough, Bryant, Maron and the other apprentices were instantly charmed. Cuffing an apprentice that she motioned to the groups mounts. "Take them to the temporary stables and make sure they are properly brushed, fed and given clean water."

She handled Neria over to Wynne carefully. "I need to go help Sweeny sort out whatever mess those fiends did to the laboratory. His eyesight isn't the best as it is. Look after Neria for me?"

Wynne nodded. "I'll look in with Beatrice to see if she needs help." She needed a distraction from the sickening ache that had started in her heart and head. She wanted to be away from the person causing it. They walked further into the Circle Tower after informing the disappointed apprentices that their souvenirs were with their luggage and not likely to arrive before the end of the week.

Irving and Greagoir stared helplessly and hopelessly after them. "I'll explain later. Her Grace should not know about the baby." Greagoir stated in a tone that brooked no argument. Bryant and Maron shrugged, curiosity etched on their faces, neither really cared much for the Grand Cleric, so it was not too much of a request to satisfy.

Bran and Hadley moved past the four at the door as well. "We'll just get to cleaning up then. Who do we look for to get our schedules? I'm assuming Knight Commander Conand is no longer around?" Bran looked questioningly at Bryant.

"That should be me but if what I think is going to happen, happens, it might just as well be Greagoir. Why don't you guys just take the day off? You'll know who to look for by the end of the day." Bryant grinned, almost looking relieved at the prospect of relinquishing the duty.

"Well, it's about time you have returned." The obnoxious voice of Her Grace, Grand Cleric of Ferelden, reached them before her person did. She strolled up to them, regally accepting their proffered bows. "Your duties await you, Knight Commander Greagoir, First Enchanter Irving."

Author's Notes

I apologise for the very, very late update. Real life just sank its teeth into me and well… I promise that I will update as soon as possible from now on. Pinky swear. :P

I would like to thank Raven Jadewolfe, Nocterayne, Ra'iira The Fiend and Corea for your reviews. I love hearing what people think of this.

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It really gladdens my heart when I receive notifications of people reviewing, adding me to their list of favourites and putting me on their alert list. Thank you all so much for your support, it helps to keep me writing. :)

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