Cullen hadn't been able to sleep. After his second night there, he'd been too restless. His warriors were uncomfortable, and it sat poorly with him. A good leader wouldn't make them stay so long. If even one soul—from either clan—brought up the events in the Veilfire Caverns, things were going to get very ugly very quickly.

He'd told his people to hold their tongues, to keep to themselves as much as they could to avoid any confrontations. Even so, the events of the past hung over all of them like a curse. They walked a rope across an abyss and the simplest of breaths could send them falling.

It was foolish to stay. He would talk to Mia as soon as she was up and see about leaving earlier. Lady willing, their departure would be uneventful.

Honestly, he was more concerned with getting that far.

If the Shadow Wolves were to kill Cullen and his people, they could easily say that the whole of them had died to the lowlanders. It would be an insult to his clan and leave them weak, but it would be hard to prove otherwise. Branson might try to lead them in any skirmishes, but the neighboring clans' pacts were with Cullen, not him. They would have no reason to aid him, nor to keep from joining in an attack.

Not that such things were likely to happen.

But they could.

They could, and they were determined to play out in his mind every which way, over and over.

Normally, he would have managed his sleep well enough, fumbling through the nightmares of what might result from his failures, but his dreams had been…altered. Mostly, that was thanks to Katrina. Now in his dreams, it wasn't just his clan he was failing, but her, too. Somehow, she was there among the body count, and when he woke up, he found himself too uncomfortable to try to sleep. That he would care about her as much as people he'd known for years…

That some small part of him cared more about her than some of his own brethren…

Cassandra and Mia were both suspicious. The day before, Thane Blackwall, Cullen, Cassandra, and Mia had all gone to check on how their lowlander was getting on with her task of translation. When the lot of them had walked into the small room Dorian had taken Katrina to for some peace, away from prying eyes, they'd been somewhat startled to see that she'd persuaded the augur to destroy the only evidence they had that might lead them to whoever was using the Avvar as a scapegoat.

"I told you to read them," Thane Blackwall had said, incredulity and anger lacing his voice as they had taken in the mess in the room.

When Cullen had pointed out that she was hardly destroying the parts that mattered—they'd just been removing the covers to find hidden notes—Mia had wondered aloud if the lowlander wasn't separating key pieces of evidence from each other. After all, what if it mattered which note came from which book?

Katrina and Dorian had both stopped at that, looking somewhat akin to children who had just realized their brilliant plan to become legendary heroes was not so brilliant after all.

It also didn't help that Katrina alone spoke Antivan, which was what half the notes were supposedly in. Mia didn't trust her.

It had baffled Cullen at first. His sister had been on his side, willing to defend the poor woman's life—as she had enraptured Cullen so—something he was having a harder and harder time denying.

It was with a most grudging admittance that he accepted he was probably a little more curious about her than he ought to be.

However, after they had all spoken together, Mia and Cassandra had both walked away wary. Thane Blackwall had been downright irate. It wasn't until Cassandra and Cullen had gone to see his other warriors that Cassandra had finally explained it to him.

Katrina was playing the thanes against one another. Or so both Mia and Cassandra believed. The little lowlander was sweet to Cullen, answering almost any question he had, even doing her best to use a vocabulary he would understand. When it came to Thane Blackwall, she was borderline belligerent. He'd thought she might throw a book at him once, when he'd made a sharp comment about the notes. He'd wanted to know how she knew the notes would be there. Her only response, as she fingered the tome she was holding like one might a throwing knife, had been, "I have friends in very low places."

When Cullen had asked her what she'd meant, she'd relaxed and explained how a friend had had an affair with a married lady and how they had passed notes using some of the Countess's favorite literature.

"She gives you power where you shouldn't have it," Cassandra had murmured. "If she does that in front of anyone else, it will get us all in trouble. And what do you think will happen when we leave? Do you think she is going to play nice with Thane Blackwall? Dorian seems to have her on some sort of a leash, but she clearly values you over the Shadow Wolves."

It was dangerous. For everyone.

And yet…

And yet he couldn't help but think of that fire in her eyes and the way she always looked at him like she thought he was…worthy. There was no better word for it. There was no doubt in her, when it came to him.

And it wasn't like he was the only one she respected. She was clearly fond of Dorian. The augur had been thrilled to explain all the ways messages could be hidden in books—ways that Katrina had told him of—and had even asked his thane if they might procure something called 'invisible ink' the next time they traded with Val Royeaux.

Thane Blackwall had not been amused.

Dorian had been, though. Every time Katrina spoke to Cullen, Dorian was watching him, a smirk in place as though he expected something to happen.

It made no sense.

None of it.

Worst of all, it made no sense that she would be there in his dreams, needing him to be whatever it was that she expected.

One of the elder-women of his hold had told stories about how dangerous lowlanders could be. They were weaker than Avvar in physical aspects—normally—but it was their way with words that made them formidable. Better to strike them down before they could unless their wicked tongues, the woman had always said.

By the Mountain Father, with the stories she spun, lowlanders could be fallen gods, the way they could whisper their ways in the minds of those who dared to listen too long. They wove simple things into such intricate webs that they ensnared even the most sensible of folk rather easily.

Perhaps that was why Mia had changed her mind so quickly. She had always listened so intently to those stories.

But then, so had Cullen, and he…he couldn't see it.

Truly, it would be better to leave for home. Perhaps in a few days he would be free of whatever spell the lowlander had on him. He would get back into the swing of managing his hold, and she would become a distant memory, eventually so faded that he would hardly remember what had been special about her to begin with.

…

He couldn't even get himself to believe that.

But he couldn't sleep to get away from thoughts of her, and lying in bed brought him right back. The sun wouldn't be over the mountains for a while yet, but he got out of bed and dressed himself. Cullen had made it halfway down the hall when he realized he had nowhere to walk. Wandering the keep would be asking for a dagger in his back.

However, he couldn't bring himself to go back to bed, either. So instead he walked out to Thane Blackwall's throne room and took to inspecting the different trophies.

As he looked over a rather impressively sized gurgut skeleton, he heard a soft curse and then the quiet padding of boots over to where he was. He recognized the voice immediately. Allowing himself a sideways glance, he arched his brow as Katrina came to a stop next to him, looking up at the skeleton on display.

He couldn't tell if the Gods were being kind or cruel.

"The Wolves let you wander around with no guard?"

"They let you." Katrina hesitated when she noticed his brow quirk. Glancing back toward the gurgut, she shrugged lightly. "I was dropped off. And anyway, Dorian says the Gods are watching, so any devious plots will be thwarted quickly."

"You sound like you don't believe," Cullen asked, turning so that he was facing her. He crossed his arms across his chest, trying to remember to keep his guard up around her. It would do to remember words were a lowlander's greatest weapon.

Katrina twisted her mouth to the side as she kept her gaze forward. "One does not spend their whole life being told there is but one Maker only to toss it aside the first time someone says that's wrong." She reached out slowly, letting her fingers run down one of the long ribs. "It must be nice, though. Having Gods who listen."

"Yours doesn't?"

"The Maker left us because we're all terrible assholes," Katrina rolled her eyes. "If we pray enough and try hard enough to be better, someday he'll realize we're not so bad and come back."

Cullen couldn't help but shake his head. "That is…"

He caught the glint in her eye, though her gaze was still mostly on the gurgut. "Is this a dragon then?"

"This?" Cullen laughed as he looked back at the trophy. "Hardly. Dragons are much bigger."

"Oh?" Katrina's gaze finally left the trophy and settled on him. "I'd heard the stories of dragons as big as houses, but I thought maybe this was a little one?"

"There'd be no sense in showing off a dragon this little."

"I would've thought killing any dragon would be impressive." Katrina crossed her arms, mimicking his stance.

"A dragon this size would barely be more than a hatchling. Not exactly a challenge."

"Have you killed many dragons?"

"A nest or two," Cullen replied, learning against the wall as he watched her. "Nothing worthy of telling over a fire or a mug."

"What's your greatest…?" Katrina rolled her wrist, letting her hand make loose circles as she thought. "I don't know what to even call it? Hunt? Kill?"

Cullen watched her trying to get a feel for what was going on. Mia seemed worried Katrina might be trying to put the thanes at odds to cement her own power. He didn't like to think she could be capable of such things, but…

"Why do you want to know?"

At that, she arched her eyebrows. "Why don't you want to tell me? Was it a baby dragon?"

"If you must know, the most dangerous thing I ever killed was actually an abomination from your lowlands that escaped into the mountains. Hateful, murderous thing." He motioned toward himself. "That's why they call me Magicsbane."

"You fought an abomination? Without templars? By yourself?"

"I don't know what a templar is, but yes."

"They're the ones who usually deal with such monsters," Katrina murmured. She picked at her cloak, looking him over, curious. "I've never seen an abomination. I hear they're scary, though. What with the demons making their skin melt and all."

Cullen frowned. "I still don't understand how one of your mages could have corrupted a God so badly, for what happened to them to have happened in the first place."

"If I had an answer, I'd tell you," Katrina offered, shrugging slightly.

Cullen fidgeted a little, though he tried not to. It was unbecoming of a thane. "I did not expect you to have one."

Silence settled betwixt the two. Both glanced toward the gurgut and then back at one another. Away and back. Katrina ran her hands up and down her arms slowly, turning her attention back toward the gurgut finally. "So…what is this thing, then? If it's not a dragon?"

Cullen tilted his head to the side as he inspected her. If this was a game, he didn't want to play. He didn't want to find out she was just trying to manipulate him. That she was just some typical lowlander. Though, she already didn't fit most of the stories…. "What is it you really want?"

Blinking back her surprise, Katrina turned about to face him. "Am I not allowed to make small talk?" She brought her hand back against her chest, mock dismay on her face. "As you wish, thane. I'll scurry off to start translating now."

Despite her words, she turned slowly, gaze holding his, as though she was waiting for him to stop her. Cullen found himself grounded in place, however. Was this some sort of lowlander trick? It really was some kind of a game, wasn't it? She was testing him for something, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was she actually wanted. And she clearly wasn't going to tell him.

As she finally broke his gaze to head down the hall toward where the letters were being kept, he decided that it didn't matter. Cassandra's warning, Mia's mistrust, the elder woman's stories all be damned. He'd had a feel for this lowlander since the beginning, and he would wager most anything that she wasn't one of the bad ones.

Why, he couldn't say. But he just knew. Almost like a little voice was whispering in the back of his head.

He pushed himself away from the wall and matched her stride. She seemed surprised again, though a faint smile tugged the corners of her lips up. "I'd offer to show you, but my hold is far from here." He paused before adding, "My 'greatest' trophy, that is."

"Maybe I could come visit you sometime," she offered, almost flippantly as she tugged her cloak a bit tighter around her.

He arched an eyebrow, ignoring her suggestion. "You can't possibly be cold enough to need something so heavy."

"I don't know if you're coldblooded or warm-blooded to be able to walk around shirtless in this weather, but I'm the opposite." Katrina shook her head, inspecting him. He thought he saw a small blush settle onto her cheeks as she stopped in front of the doorway to where her work awaited her. "Just looking at you makes me all cold."

"Just looking at you makes me all hot," he retorted, before he could stop himself. As he glanced down at her, he noticed her lips trembling as though she were trying not to laugh. His brow pinched together, and he felt oddly childish as he asked, "Did I…mix up some of my words?"

"No, no," Katrina's eyes widened, and she waved her hand quickly. "You're fine, really. I'm just…a terrible person. Really, you speak quite well."

"Now you are teasing me," Cullen frowned.

"My dear thane," Katrina gave him a pointed look, "I promise that you will know when I am teasing you. Subtlety has never been in my repertoire."

"I do not know what that means."

"It means I'm very bad with hints," she shrugged.

"Hints about what?"

She stared up at him and then shook her head, looking around the room. "Anything, really." Her back was to him as he tilted his head. She sighed, taking a few more steps into the room. "I couldn't sleep and thought I'd get a jump on this, yet it seems my initiative is for naught. They've left me no ink, so I can't very well translate and make notes about it."

Though a part of him wanted to dart back to his room and get her a blanket—she did seem cold—he walked into the room after her, glancing around with more care than he had the last time he'd been there. A small table had been brought into the room, though it wasn't high enough for a chair. A pillow of some sort—with a ridiculous amount of embroidery on it—had been set beside it instead. Stacks of those notes that she and Dorian had found cluttered the table, with the coverless books surrounding it. He walked over and picked up a few papers, letting his eyes follow the curve of the lines without any of them meaning anything. "This is a lot of reading."

"Mmmm," Katrina frowned. "I am not going to enjoy this."

"I thought all lowlanders liked to read."

"Depends on what we're reading," Katrina replied, stepping up beside him and peeking around him to look at the note. "A comedy about miscommunication that ends happily? Fun stuff. Mysteriously vague secrets that could doom us all? A little less fun."

"Vague?"

"Here," Katrina held her hand out and took the papers when Cullen gave them to her. "This one has five lines about weather. The gist is sunny with a few clouds wandering past. Then it says, 'We will meet beneath the willow, should you be of a mind to trade.' And that's it. Trade what? What willow? I didn't think Willows grew this far south."

"I see."

"I don't see how this is going to get you any closer to finding out who did this."

Cullen shifted his weight, crossing one arm across his chest and using it to prop up his other, his hand just below his chin. "What about the books? Perhaps they hold key details?"

"They're nature studies, from the looks of things," Katrina replied, tapping one of them. "The orders Dorian showed me that were on the captain said that these were to be burned so that no one would find the letters rather than the books themselves."

"Nature studies."

"Boring ones, too," Katrina set the notes back on the table and picked up one of the books, flipping the pages absentmindedly. "Dorian and I looked through a few. They talk about migratory patterns of finches and the like."

"Finches?"

"They're a type of bird—"

Cullen held up a hand. "I know what a finch is."

With a small shrug, Katrina glanced down at the page she'd stopped on. "I just thought you might have different names for them. Avvar names."

"We do," Cullen replied, his tone softening a little.

"I'd love to learn them," Katrina murmured, her gaze moving quickly across the page. "Avvar words, I mean. From what little I've heard, yours sounds like an interesting language." She paused looking up at him. There was a light in her eyes. It wasn't that unquenchable fire, but something else. Something that left Cullen at a loss for what to do or say, especially as the words that accompanied that look registered. "Maybe you could teach me?"

"That would be—"

"Beneath a thane," Mia finished. She strode into the room, looking from Cullen to Katrina and back. She narrowed her eyes at Cullen for a moment before finally addressing the lowlander. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I couldn't sleep and wanted to get a start on translating," she motioned toward the table. "We just got here. There was no ink, so…I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"Thane Magicsbane escorted you here?"

That was the first time Mia had ever called him by his formal title, and somehow, it stung. There was a distance in those words. A coldness.

"No," Katrina was saying. "The young man dropped me off. He said Dorian wouldn't mind."

"A young man told you Augur Corpseflame wouldn't mind if he dropped you off, alone?"

Ah. So the titles were more for the lowlander.

It brought little comfort.

"He seemed so sure," Katrina seemed genuinely taken aback by Mia's anger. "I didn't think twice. He said there was no point in sitting about in the dark when there were things to do."

"Did this young man give you his name?"

"No."

"What did he look like?" Mia snapped.

"I…" Katrina paused, tilting her head. "I can't remember."

"Where did he go?"

Katrina's brow knit together as she looked down, suddenly puzzled and lost. "He must have left when I walked over to Thane Magicsbane."

Mia's gaze slid back towards Cullen. He knew that look. That was look she had when she was about to set someone in their place to make sure they never had another misstep again. "Did you see anyone come in with the lowlander?"

"I was admiring your husband's trophies," Cullen murmured. "I didn't look to see who had brought her."

Mia shifted to their native tongue. "You mean if someone brought her." That crease between her brows lessened slightly, and she shook her head. "You need to leave before Blackwall finds you back here. You've no business being here without an escort, yourself."

"You needn't worry, love," Thane Blackwall stepped into the room, Dorian by his side. "I know my fellow thane is no thief."

"The rest of the hold doesn't," Mia hissed. She gave Katrina another glare, which only worsened when she realized that the lowlander still seemed lost to her confusion.

With a low, dry laugh, Thane Blackwall motioned for Cullen to come with him. "Dorian will tend to our…lowlander. You won't be needed here."

Cullen glanced at her, frowning when he saw that Dorian had already slipped around to her and was speaking quietly, showing her where the ink was stored on one of high up shelves, where it couldn't easily be knocked over.

As he looked back at her, she glanced over her shoulder. She seemed more withdrawn—possibly the most he'd ever seen her in their short time together—but she gave him a weak smile. He returned it with a reassuring one, hoping to settle her nerves.

However, he didn't linger. Now that Mia had pointed out his folly, he couldn't help but wonder what had possessed him to think it was alright for either of them to wander through the rooms that held the Wolves' treasures.

As he followed Thane Blackwall into the hall, Mia stepping out after him, his fellow thane appraised him quickly before motioning ahead with his bearded chin. "I think it would be better for everyone if you and yours left this morning. I'm sure we can have you ready for travel before noon."

Despite wanting to argue, wanting to insist that he could help with Katrina, that she wasn't as diabolical as some of the Avvar feared, the part of him that was thane, that was responsible for his warriors, managed to overcome his infatuation. He simply nodded and matched Thane Blackwall's pace, not looking back to see if Mia was on his heels.

They didn't say anything as they returned to the throne room.

…-…

Something political was going on.

Katrina was sure of it. The atmosphere held a tension that was normally reserved for sitting rooms and side rooms at gatherings, where two people were allowed to let their mistrust and unease fester out of the eyes of the disapproving public. It felt like when Gregory or Amelia had been trapped in small quarters with a noble from a rival house.

Them or her mother.

Maker, but that woman was terrifying when she decided to go after someone. She might be from Starkhaven, but her blood could run unbearably cold if she felt she'd been slighted. Katrina had always considered herself lucky to be family, as they were typically the only ones exempt from her wrath.

Though now…

Now, Katrina was in the middle of nowhere and assumed dead.

Now, it still didn't matter.

What did matter was that something was going on here, in the Shadow Wolves' keep. Something to do with the two thanes, though she wasn't sure what exactly. After all, that they'd been working together meant they at least had some sort of alliance, surely.

And yet… there were enough side glares and frowns that she could almost—despite the different clothing and accents—mistake herself for being at an Orlesian gathering. Perhaps the Orlesians had more sway over the Avvar than either party realized.

Maker's ass.

Something political was definitely going on. She was sure of that.

Just as she was sure that every word her mother and Amelia and her few, few, few close friends had ever said about her ability to flirt was completely and utterly true.

Katrina had always known she was horrid at such things, but this morning had made it painfully obvious, even to her. The whole courtship thing—coy glances, subtle remarks, secret looks shared across rooms—had always seemed ridiculously complicated to her, and Gregory had often told her she'd just be better off if she married someone the family found for her. At least then she could save herself the humiliation of trying to catch someone's eye.

That had been before the family had given up on finding someone for her. Of late, Mother had been pushing for her to join the Chantry as a sister and live out her days in quiet contemplation.

The Void would come crashing down from the sky before that happened.

Katrina frowned when a book just barely missed her head. Turning to Dorian, she arched an eyebrow, tapping her quill against the side of the table. "You're lucky that missed."

"Well, I had to do something to get you to stop staring wistfully after Thane Magicsbane," he muttered back. "I'm not doing all this work by myself."

"Seeing as I'm the one who'll be translating almost everything, I hardly see how you could." Katrina glanced at the door one more time and then shrugged lightly, turning to the letter she was working on and beginning to jot down what it said in the margins. "It'll probably take me a few weeks. Far, far longer if you expect me to translate the books themselves."

"And you don't want to do that?"

"I…" Katrina glanced at the door again. Of course she didn't want to do that. She wanted to avenge Amelia and then perhaps… No. That was stupid. She needed to stop thinking about certain individuals and the way even the dimmest of lights seemed to play off their curly hair and well sculpted frame.

Besides, she was sure that she had recruited someone's aid in regards to helping Amelia, and she couldn't very well just dismiss that. But it was all so…fuzzy. "I think I promised someone something. But I can't remember. I need to make the Comte pay, though. I'll help with this—the longer I'm gone, the more likely he'll think I'm dead, and the easier it will be for me to sneak back into Val Royeaux."

Dorian rolled his neck slowly, clearly getting tired from their time with the books. Despite his love for them, he was still unaccustomed to sitting with texts for this many hours. He'd already muttered something about trying to get the Gods to help them read a few times, though he hadn't bothered to explain to Katrina. They'd been at this for at least four hours. "You've all kinds of holes in your memories, haven't you?"

"Not usually," Katrina frowned. "Perhaps my head wound did more damage than we thought…"

"The Gods healed you of that, so if there's damage left, it's damage they wanted there," Dorian dismissed the idea.

Katrina peered over at him. "Could you ask them?" When Dorian paused in flipping through one of the common journals—he'd brought a few of them into the room so that he could translate and keep an eye on Katrina—she motioned around them, to the empty air. "Your Gods. They answer, right? Could you ask them if I'm supposed to be forgetting things?"

Even as he frowned at her and opened his mouth to say something no doubt sarcastic, something reddish orange shimmered to life in the air near him. Katrina could only see it for the briefest of moments, but it had been there, she was sure. Dorian blinked, expression growing somewhat surprised as he tilted his head. "They say you shouldn't worry. What you need to know will come to you."

Katrina eyed him and the—once again—empty air. "Really?"

"The Gods would not waste time to placate one who is not their own," Dorian looked back down at his journal. "That one even thought to say anything is…surprising." His gaze flickered back toward her a moment and then he shrugged. "It should put my thane's mind at ease that the Gods are this comfortable around you."

"Gods can be uncomfortable?"

"Of course they can."

Katrina wound a lock of hair around her finger slowly as she watched the Avvar man. "So, are they—"

"I'm not wasting anymore breath educating you about our Gods until you've invested yourself in your task at hand."

"Thane Magicsbane didn't mind talking to me about it."

"I am not he," Dorian retorted, giving her a sharp look. "And trying to cozy up to him will do you no good. He's leaving. Very soon."

Though she opened her mouth to object, she realized that she really couldn't. Even if she still had her titles, they didn't mean anything down here. Still, it made her heart sink. Thane Blackwall could be rather harsh, from what she'd seen, and she never dealt well with harsh authority. Cullen had already saved her from challenging Thane Blackwall's authority once, and she could easily see things turning out worse without him around to tell her when to bite her tongue.

Cullen's face came to mind as she thought of her dealings with the thanes, the smile he'd given her before leaving, the way it had tugged on his scar, the way his longish curls had framed his face, his bare chest, highlighted even in mediocre lighting of the room…

Maker, now was not the time for such unbecoming feelings.

And besides, she was just being selfish and foolish. Every time she'd attempted to flirt, he'd given her such strange looks.

It was stupid to think about him, to want to commit his features to memory, and yet…

Another book flew past her head, and she scowled toward Dorian. "I'm working."

"If you're going to lie to me, at least pretend harder."

With a roll of her eyes, Katrina bent her head forward and did her best to lose herself in the task at hand. Perhaps if she finished early, she could find some time to talk to Cullen again. Silly as it was.