A/N: Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy the story so far!

...-...

Cullen hadn't known what to expect when Thane Everburning had abruptly dropped by, but it hadn't been for the man to bring him the two Lowlanders who had been plaguing his nightmares for the last two months.

The longer they'd gone without finding them, the more his dreams had twisted. What if they'd gone back to get reinforcements? What if they marched on his hold, and they were unprepared? What if they took Katrina?

Katrina had done her best to allay his fears with gentle touches and whispered reassurances, but as night settled, and she drifted to sleep in his arms, his thoughts would wind back. Cole came by sometimes to offer him a word of comfort. The God assured Cullen that things would be alright. Cole would help.

But even so…

Even so, even so, even so.

A million little things would pop into his head as he lay there in the darkness, mulling over the different ways they might be attacked, the ways that they might lose. He did his best to prepare, but no one could foresee everything.

He certainly hadn't foreseen this.

Thane Everburning and Fenris had been escorted into the hold, along with their small party, and Cullen had barely made it to the throne room before them. It had left him in a rather fickle mood as Thane Everburning had sauntered in, spreading his arms wide as though he might catch Cullen in a bear hug.

"Cul!"

He tried not to cringe. "Tha—Garrett."

Fenris motioned for two other White Feathers to lead in two rather destitute creatures. Both of them had a slight stumble to their walks—a sign that they'd been pushed far beyond their endurance. Their clothes were dark, and clearly from the Lowlands. Their hoods were up, faces shadowed, though wisps of blonde hair fell from beneath each hood.

As the initial report had said, one was a woman and one was an elf. They both looked too slight, underfed, perhaps. Or perhaps he was just used to the brawn of the Avvar. After all, Fenris seemed rather willowy—Katrina, too.

Even as his eyes searched their clothes for any crests or sigils—not that he'd have recognized them, anyway—Garrett slung an arm over each of their shoulders. Despite the shadows on their faces, Cullen could still make out their scowls. "I found the scoundrels after our dear Lowlander."

"I do not see that she is 'our' anything," Cullen snapped before he could stop himself.

Garrett seemed most amused, though he did rein in whatever he was about to say when Fenris snapped something at him under his breath. Fenris moved to stand closer to Cullen, pausing to bow when he was an appropriate distance. "Thane Magicsbane, we wished to make restitution for our dear thane's earlier antics. We hope that delivering to you those who seek Katrina would help to smooth things over."

They'd been speaking in Avvar, a language that neither Lowlander seemed to understand. However, at mention of Katrina's name, the woman straightened up—or rather, she tried to, under the weight of Garrett's heavy arm—and as she started speaking, it was with a rather familiar accent and a rather familiar voice. "You are that uncouth brigand who kidnapped Lady Trevelyan? I will have you know—"

Garret's hand curled around her face, clasping over her mouth. The woman made a slight screeching noise and tried to shoulder him away from her. Garrett simply laughed. He let go of the elf to point to his own ear. "You hear it, don't you?"

Cullen stared at the woman, rising from his throne and taking a few slow steps toward her. Garrett released her mouth and pushed both Lowlanders down onto their knees. Even as they grunted their disapproval, he jerked their hoods back and came to stand beside Cullen, a wide grin in place.

"Meet those who would steal back your dear Lowlander."

Cullen couldn't respond. Korth's teeth, he couldn't think.

The elf could have up and left for all he knew, because he couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman. Her face was a tad rounder than Katrina, and her hair had been done up in a simple bun, but aside from that, she looked almost exactly like his Lowlander.

His Katrina.

At first, an irrational terror that somehow his Katrina had never truly been his stirred inside him. However, no sooner had it reared its head, he was banishing it. This was not his lady.

This was…

As if the Gods sought to reinforce the realization slowly falling into place in Cullen's head, Garrett said, "Speak of the Lowlander, and she will come."

Cullen's gaze snapped up to Katrina. She was walking with Rosalie, in the Avvar clothes he'd held her in that morning, that thin scar running down her forehead from the night of the raid. Her hair fell free around her shoulders and down her back, the light from outside reaching into the cave to make her hair shimmer.

However, her eyes were not on him.

Instead, she'd looked down to the other Lowlanders as they'd peered back over their shoulders to see who else was coming in to gawk at them.

In a breath, they were both on their feet, stumbling toward her. She met them halfway, arms wrapping around the woman first. "Amelia?" She took a step back, looking over her sister, tears already spilling from her eyes, hands coming up to cover her mouth. "I don't—"

The elf was untying Amelia's hands.

Cullen frowned, abruptly looking around for the elf's bindings. They had been discarded on the floor where he'd initially knelt. His hair was a darker shade of blonde than Katrina's and Amelia's and came down to about his shoulders. He had a tawny complexion and moved with an eerie grace. When he'd freed Amelia and hugged the both of them, Cullen could see tattoos curving up near his left eye, two simple lines, nothing more.

"Zevran! I-I don't—" Katrina's words failed her, and she gripped the two of them tightly to her. As she sniffled through her tears, struggling to rein in her rampant emotions, she shook her head, trying to smile. "I should have listened to your warnings. About people attempting to assassinate me someday."

"Yes, well. I can hardly fault you for your optimism, dear lady." He reached up and tousled her hair, a grin in place.

Katrina looked back at Amelia, gripping her sister by her shoulders. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but tears overtook her again, and she simply clung to Amelia instead.

Garrett nudged Cullen in the arm, leaning toward him to whisper, "We caught them running from a gurgut. You should have been there. I don't know if they'd tried to hunt the damn thing for a meal or what, but it was angrier than I've ever seen one of those beasts."

"They probably stole its eggs," Fenris muttered, shrugging.

Even as Garrett considered the possibility and shrugged, Cullen walked toward them. What was he even supposed to do right now? Introduce himself? It seemed awkward to insert himself into such a reunion. How often had he heard Katrina rant about the injustices committed against her dear sister? How often had she sworn that Amelia deserved to be safe and happy? How often had he seen the unspoken truth beneath her words, that she missed her sister more than words could convey?

He stopped a few feet short of them.

However, he had not stopped far enough away, for Amelia saw him. Instantly, her arms were wrapped tightly around Katrina, dragging her sister to her, angling her neck a little awkwardly as Amelia clung to her, as though to keep her safe from a monster. "You stay back! You will relinquish any claims you have to my sister and allow us safe passage from your territory or you will face the full force of our people!"

Even as Cullen straightened up, a little indignant at the tone of her demands, Katrina's face blanked. She carefully untangled herself from the death grip her sister had on her and carefully appraised her. "What are you on about?"

The elf, Zevran, seemed to have picked up on something, and his stance was relaxed, a half-smile playing on his lips as he watched the two.

Amelia, however, was about as tense as one could be without breaking. She gripped Katrina around the waist, pulling her closer again. She switched to a different language to whisper something to her sister.

Katrina rolled her eyes. When she spoke, it was still in common. "There is absolutely no need for grandstanding." Katrina's voice was just a little deeper than Amelia's. As she shook her head apologetically at Cullen, tear tracks still smudged on her cheeks, Amelia whacked her on the back of the head and hissed something else in that foreign language. "Amelia, calm down. This is…" She trailed off, and glanced at him before asking in Avvar, "Is it appropriate for me to introduce you?"

"I am Thane Cullen Ar Eydis O Lionhold Magicsbane." Cullen bowed his head to them after he'd offered his name.

Zevran crowed. "Oh, ho. And I thought those Orlesians had long titles. It is no wonder they dislike the mountain men so. They have managed to upstage them."

"Zevran," Amelia hissed. The elf shrugged in response. She looked a little lost as she glared at Cullen, still holding Katrina tight enough that she couldn't go over to Cullen. Limited as she was, Katrina held her hand out to him, and he stepped forward to take it, clasping her fingers in his.

Amelia looked ready to claw Cullen's arm to pieces, but Katrina managed to catch her attention again, tilting her head toward Cullen. When she spoke, it was softly. "He's a good man. He saved me, more than once. And he's kind and—"

"If he's such a good man," Amelia retorted, finally speaking in a language Cullen could follow, "then he'll let you come home where you belong."

"I don't want to go back to Starkhaven," Katrina objected.

At that, Amelia's gaze snapped away from Cullen, where she seemed to have been memorizing his features so that she might always be able to pick him out of a crowd and properly direct her ire, and back to her sister. "Of course you do."

"I do not."

Cullen listened to the two of them argue back and forth a moment before holding out his free hand to interrupt. Amelia glared daggers, Katrina watched him curiously. "Forgive me, but I…" His common was rusty, especially seeing as he hadn't used much of it since Katrina had begun speaking Avvar. "I thought you," he pointed to Amelia, "were the one who needed saving. From a Comte."

Amelia cocked her head, giving him a belittling look that reminded him of how Katrina had first looked at him when Jim had captured her during the raid, all those months ago. Had it already been almost half a year that he'd known her? "And just what did you promise my sister that you would do, mountain man? Raid his manor in Val Royeaux? That would be quite the sight."

"Amelia, don't be so callous," Katrina objected. "He offered me no promises he could not keep."

"Katrina, need I remind you of what happened in Ostwick?"

"Amelia, no. Don't bring up Ostwick."

"They had you for a week, and when father brought the ransom, you insisted that they were not kidnappers."

"I was thirteen," Katrina objected, rolling her eyes. "And if you recall, father came home with both me and the money. Kidnappers would not have let him do that."

"For a week Clarence and I were certain they'd be sending us your finger or toe or ear or…" Amelia shook her head, destitute. Glaring at Cullen with renewed disdain, she tugged Katrina's hand out of his. "You will keep your hands off my sister. I don't know what you've told her, but we will have no more of that."

"I already told you he's a good man—"

"And you are a terrible judge of character."

"You clearly can't think that. You're traveling with Zevran, who has been my friend for years."

At that, Amelia let go of Katrina and held up a hand, index finger pointed at Katrina. "I will have words with you about that later!"

As Katrina snapped back some retort, Zevran crossed his arms, shifting his weight a little and then bringing up one of his hands so that he could inspect his nails. "You know, when I offered to help you find Katrina, I did not expect to fall under such scrutiny myself."

Katrina gave him a sympathetic shrug that seemed to push Amelia to a new level of anger. Cullen could see a similar fire to Katrina's raging in her hazel eyes. Neither of her fellow Lowlanders seemed to care.

"You should know," Zevran offered, "that your sister is somewhat of a force of nature. I am happy to announce that I had just parted ways with the Crows and was wondering how long until I parted ways with my life, when she simply appeared in my room. While I was happy for the company, she was quite adamant in demanding I keep my hands to myself and assist her with saving you." He shrugged. "I figured disappearing into the mountains would be a decent way to have my trail go cold while I decide what to do next. And a noble path, too."

At that, Katrina frowned, all but ignoring the open admission that the elf had tried to sleep with her sister. "If the two of you intended to come down here and save me, wouldn't it have made more sense to have someone else who would have actually known how to find their way come with you?"

Zevran shrugged, holding his hands up. "I assumed she knew where we were going."

"I thought he was a good tracker." Amelia interjected.

"I kill people, not find them."

Cullen held up a hand, ignoring the way that Amelia looked ready to grip it and try to toss him over her shoulder. He almost wanted to see her try. "It would seem we have much catching up to do, yes? Perhaps we can slow this down."

Zevran shrugged, and dipped into a brief bow. "As you say…what was it? Thane?"

"Sort of like a lord or a judge," Katrina offered, twining her arm around Cullen's and lacing her fingers with his. Amelia scowled. "This, as I'm sure you've gathered, is Amelia Trevelyan of Starkhaven, my older sister, and this Zevran Arainai, formerly of the Crows." She seemed rather proud of that last bit, a part that escaped neither Cullen nor the elf.

Zevran nodded a little to the others as Katrina offered a few other introductions, though Amelia simply appraised them as though they were insects that required squashing.

Katrina perked up, eyes shining as she peered back up at Cullen, speaking in Avvar. "They can stay with us for a while, yes? I bet they could help with translating those journals."

With a frown, Cullen inspected the other two. While he didn't mind Katrina staying in his hold, he hadn't intended for there to be Lowlanders running about everywhere. And these new two didn't exactly seem as…

He couldn't very well say well-tempered in comparison to Katrina—Hakkon's frigid breath, but she and her sister were so alike, personality-wise and looks—but the truth of it was they weren't her. He didn't particularly want them in his hold, though when he turned back to Katrina, his stomach clenched. There was such hope glimmering in her eyes. Relief, joy, a million other emotions that she'd seemed to struggle toward before this moment.

It was beautiful.

How was it that almost every time he looked at her he fell a little further?

"I would not be so cruel as to cast your sister and…friend out into the wilderness," Cullen finally offered. He could talk to her about sending them back to the Lowlands later tonight, when he had her to himself again.

Amelia had grown quiet—finally—though the way she appraised Cullen left him wondering if he might need to sleep with a dagger under his pillow for a few nights. When she spoke again, it was in that third language that Cullen didn't know.

"For the love of…" Katrina rolled her eyes, leaning into Cullen more. "Would you please listen? No one's keeping me against my will."

"So you're saying if you wanted to leave right now, you could?"

"Of course I could," Katrina shrugged. "I'd get hopelessly lost in the woods and get eaten by bears, probably, but I could leave."

Cullen took in a deep breath through his nose and then exhaled slowly. "Katrina, that doesn't really make it sound like you have a choice."

"Ha," Amelia crossed her arms. "Even he's admitting it."

"You don't even know what he said."

"I could tell from his tone!"

"There are no bears near the hold, Katrina," Cullen said, trying not to smile, despite the bizarreness of the situation.

Katrina let out a soft huff. "Well the whole point of me leaving would be to get away from the hold, now wouldn't it? If I'm not near the hold, then of course there's going to be bears."

As Cullen decided not to argue with that logic—there was enough chaos for the moment between Katrina and her sister, as Amelia had resumed arguing yet again—he glanced around to see that Branson had shown up and was standing beside Rosalie, eyes wide as he listening to them prattle on, no doubt unable to put together a single sentence that they'd spoken. By the Lady, Cullen could barely follow the two of them.

Rosalie seemed like she was doing a decent job, her gaze locked on the still arguing sisters as though doing her best to translate as they went. Her expression was less amused and more one of immense concentration.

Garrett and Fenris stood where he'd left them, though Fenris had moved over to Garrett to lean his head against his husband's shoulder. His shoulders and ears were trembling, like he was trying not to laugh and fan the flames of Amelia's disdain.

Katrina abruptly started what had to be swearing in that other language. It was the same one that Amelia had been trying to use earlier so that the Avvar couldn't eavesdrop, clearly not realizing that all they really needed to do was speak quickly, and their words were lost on most everyone around them.

Finally, Amelia threw her hands into the air and then crossed them, scowling at nothing in particular as she held her head high and proud.

Cullen arched his brow, glancing down at Katrina. Without thinking, he slipped into Avvar. "What just happened?"

She replied in kind. "I told her that even if she wanted to paint you as some terrible brute, it wasn't like we three could battle our way out of the hold, so she might as well get over it and stop wasting so much energy with her yelling and accusations."

"You never said she had a temper like yours," Cullen offered softly, his amusement tugging up on one corner of his lips, his smile pulling at his scar.

Katrina rolled her eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "She only gets like this when she doesn't sleep well. Toss her a mattress for a few hours, and she'll be half decent. Give her a night or two, and she'll be back to curtseys and 'thank you, sir's."

Amelia narrowed her eyes at Katrina's tone. "I know you're making fun of me. You're telling him that stupid sleep thing, aren't you?"

"I won't argue that it's not stupid, but it's also true. You're not nearly as shrewish when you've gotten a decent rest."

"I'm also not nearly as 'shrewish' when my sister doesn't get herself kidnapped!"

"The Comte's men were the ones who kidnapped me. Cullen is keeping me safe from them. You'd think you could be a little grateful. Those Orlesian bastards wanted to frame the Avvar for my murder for some stupid reason. The Avvar have done nothing wrong!"

Amelia sniffed indignantly, her arms still crossed firmly across her chest. She gave Cullen a sideways glance and finally shrugged. "I'm watching you."

Garrett trotted over to them finally, inspecting the lot of them, that wide, unbearable grin in place. "Are we all friends, then?"

"Don't you patronize my sister," Katrina warned.

Running his hand down his face, Cullen tilted his head back a moment and then looked back at the Lowlanders and his fellow thane. "The lot of you look like you could use some rest and a change of clothes. My people can provide you with what you need, and we can…figure out where to go from here after everyone has had a chance to settle in."

Amelia was the last to agree to his terms, eyeing him resentfully, as though he'd just beaten her at some game he hadn't known he was playing. Katrina offered to go with Rosalie to show their guests where they could stay for the duration of their—hopefully short—visit.

Cullen paused when Katrina came back after she'd started to leave with the others. Before she left, she leaned up on her toes to kiss him—which earned them a strangled screech from her sister—and then whispered, more than a little amused. "I told you the Lowlanders looking for me were lost."

…-…

"You know. I am quite disappointed. I had always heard the Avvar were fairly good with rope. I had thought to see some impressive artistry when we were captured," Zevran declared as he sat down on the bed that had been given to him. Katrina stood near the door with Amelia, who was teasing her damp hair. She'd been suspicious the second they'd brought her to the bathing pools, expecting the Avvar to be peeking down at her. Though Katrina had assured her it was not so, she'd stayed by her sister's side, dutifully watching for peeping toms whilst Amelia bathed. When they were done, they'd headed to the building that Garrett and Fenris had stayed at before. It was a bit larger than most, with half a dozen rooms available, breaking off of a main commons area. Garrett and Fenris had taken the room in one corner, and Amelia and Zevran had each been given their own, not that Amelia seemed impressed.

She hadn't wanted to talk in her room because it was at the end of the building, and she thought it would be easier for someone to eavesdrop. Even though Zevran's room was along an outer wall as well, Amelia had been content to hole up here, instead.

Katrina had never seen her sister this paranoid.

At Zevran's joke about the ropes, Amelia rubbed her wrists with contempt. "If they were bringing us here without the intent of killing us or keeping us locked away, I don't see why they couldn't have told us you were here and safe."

"Garrett's a bit of a prig," Katrina offered with a light shrug. She reached out and ran her fingers over Amelia's skin, frowning to see that it was a bit raw. "Do you want me to find the augur? He could heal you."

"No need. I've been through worse," Amelia muttered.

Those words stung more than Katrina had expected such a thing to. She lowered her gaze to her hands, fidgeting a little. "I'm sorry."

Amelia blinked, looking up at Katrina. "For what?"

"I didn't help you when I could have." Katrina shrugged a little, abruptly wishing Cullen was there to wrap his arms around her. He had a way about him. No matter what, he could make her feel safe. She hadn't realized she'd come to rely on him so much until they were separated, albeit by a dozen or so yards at most. "When you became distant, I didn't think there could be a good reason. I just let myself believe you'd grown tired of me."

"It's what I wanted you to think," Amelia said, shrugging. "I didn't want you involved with the Comte. I thought…if I left and never looked back, then it would be fine. There was no way they'd try to match you as a replacement for me. The Comte would have to look elsewhere for a new wife, the family would be free of him, and I'd be free, too." She paused, letting out a half laugh. "Of course you couldn't leave well enough alone, though. I was in a port off Ferelden when I heard that you'd gone to the empress herself with my findings."

"It wasn't right that you would have to had to run away to find your freedom."

"Perhaps not, but…" Amelia hesitated, gaze drifting as a faint smile settled on her features. "Things worked out for me. I wouldn't change any of it, now…" At that, she frowned, gaze snapping back to Katrina. "Except for the part where my baby sister goes running off to slay my demons."

"I couldn't even do that," Katrina muttered, slumping down onto Zevran's bed. Amelia sat between them.

"What are you talking about?"

"What I did didn't even matter in the end," Katrina muttered. The memories of the night the Comte had cornered her, of her taking out his eye with the letter opener and running, of getting caught by his men all came flooding back. "The empress said she'd do something, but—"

"She did," Zevran interjected, leaning forward so that he could see Katrina clearly. "The Comte was hung for his crimes. Publically. He is dead."

Katrina blinked. Once. Twice.

The Comte de Forseau was dead?

All this time, she had feared leaving the Lions' hold, feared going to confront the bastard who had hurt her sister, who had made her flee…and he had already been brought to justice?

While a part of her felt that she ought to be relieved by such news—part of her whispered that she might not even need to leave Cullen's side once the journals had been translated now—she couldn't find that peace. Katrina shook her head, anger flickering in her gut, instead.

Zevran reached out and patted her hand. "More than that, the people of Orlais fell in love with the innocent little Free Marcher who risked title and home to bring justice to the wicked. When you went missing, rumors flew. When they found evidence that the Avvar had harmed you, there was outrage."

At that, that rage inside of her…it didn't go out, but it did shift. It paused, as though waiting for proper direction. "What?"

"According to the rumors," Amelia said, shifting a little in her seat, "you had heard that I was in Ferelden and had decided to come let me know that the empress was going to move to have me reinstated into the family."

"She is not our empress. She's no power to do thus," Katrina snapped.

Amelia sighed, reaching out and looping her arm with Katrina's. She drew her sister in close and then leaned her head against Katrina's. "She could have pressured our father, sort of how she did to make sure he didn't disown you."

Katrina's world stalled. "I'm sorry?"

"You thought you were abandoned, didn't you?" Amelia straightened up, reaching out to brush her fingers across Katrina's cheek. "It's no wonder you would try to make the best of a miserable situation out here, if you thought you had no home to go back to."

"I…that's not what happened," Katrina tried to insist.

Amelia waved her hand. "Katrina, listen. All of Orlais stands behind you. We will get you back to civilization, and for once you will be the belle of the ball."

Katrina could not find the words to say much of anything. Amelia, her beloved, cast aside sister, had dared the cold dangers of the south just to save her and…send her right back into a life she had never felt comfortable in? How could she explain that in a way that would not injure Amelia, or make her feel like she'd wasted her time and endangered her own safety for nothing.

"So…you came all the way out here planning that we would go home together?"

"I…" Amelia sucked in a slow breath and held it a moment before letting it out. "No."

"No?" Katrina echoed.

"I will not be returning to Starkhaven," Amelia said, somewhat indelicately. It seemed she had let her years of tact slip in the time that they'd been apart. "I have no interest in rejoining the Trevelyan family."

Katrina felt like she'd been slapped. Shifting out of her sister's grasp so that she could face her fully, she shook her head. "No? I did all of this for you! You had to give up everything because of that bastard! You didn't deserve to be written off as you were!"

"Did you ever consider I wanted to be written off?" Amelia asked, peering up at her, exasperated. "Katrina, the night I left, I really did mean to just go for a walk. I found my way down to a tavern and…I did what I thought you'd do. I just wanted to be carefree for a few simple hours. Then this fool," she thwacked Zevran on the arm, "mistook me for you for a second. He figured it out quickly, but then he decided that he would be my guide to the underworld, as a courtesy to you."

As she spoke, Zevran offered them a mock bow. "It was a pleasure, my lovely lady."

"At the end of the night, he asked if I wanted him to take me home and I…" She hesitated. "The next thing I knew, I'd traded my necklace for passage down to Kirkwall, of all places." She paused and shook her head. "It really is as bad as mother says."

When Katrina didn't offer some light-hearted quip, Amelia sighed. "I heard the rumors that people thought I'd been kidnapped or was dead in a ditch, and I…I felt free. Suddenly, it didn't matter if my hair was tangled or if there was a bit of mud on my skirts. It didn't matter if I tripped in front of someone. Everyone trips." She scowled. "I don't see why it's some great embarrassment in court to get a heel caught on a rug."

Katrina shifted a little, shrugging. "I never got that either."

"I know," Amelia looked back at her, an understanding, affectionate look in place. "You never cared what anyone thought. You were always such a free spirit. I always wanted to help you with those silly pranks and mishaps, but I was too afraid to step outside of what was expected of me."

"Well, it's easy to do what you oughtn't to when everyone's already given up on you doing what you ought to. I mean, the only thing mother expected of me was that I'd be second to you no matter what, so there wasn't much reason to disappoint her." Katrina shrugged.

Amelia looked almost wounded at her words, and Katrina wished she could take them back. However, her sister simply shook her head. "I met someone, down in Kirkwall. She's quite something really. I was almost ready to go back, to re-shackle myself to my responsibilities, when she got ahold of me. I told her my woes over a pint of the most awful ale I've ever tasted—"

"You've tasted ale."

"I have." Amelia's smile flickered across her lips.

It was the first time Katrina had seen her smile in almost a year and a half, and it twisted something inside of her.

Amelia kept talking. "She told me that people had a way of moving on, and that I sounded like I needed to do something for myself for once in my life. She was right. So I ran away with her."

"To Ferelden."

"We've…traveled, Isabela and I," Amelia offered, seemingly a little reserved with giving out details. "We were planning to go all the way to the Imperium when I got word that you'd been…lost to mountain men."

"Killed is what the rumors say, technically," Zevran pointed out. "Assuming, of course, you are not of a mind to listen to the ones saying you are now a sex slave to some barbarian."

Amelia rolled her eyes, bristling at the mention of the rumors. "I knew how it is with you; you'd stumble into a faerie ring or some weird cultural loophole where they couldn't kill you. You've always been like that. Your luck is the strangest I've ever seen."

"Perhaps it's less luck and more the Gods guiding me to where I needed to be," Katrina offered.

"Gods? Plural?" Amelia arched her eyebrows. She looked ready to launch into a speech, but stopped herself. "I suppose I don't do the Maker's will much these days, so I've hardly room to lecture."

"I've met a God."

"And that makes me ready to lecture."

With a laugh, Katrina decided not to tell Amelia about Cole. "We're a bit of a mess aren't we? I got kidnapped by Orlesians trying to save you, and you got kidnapped by Avvar trying to save me."

"And neither of you even wish to go home," Zevran added. He'd laid out on his bed, content to let the ladies speak, for the most part. "It is fortunate that the two of you are so easy on the eyes—and that I am trying to avoid my murderers—or I might be put out by this little adventure."

As quiet began to settle over the three of them, Katrina finally shook her head. "I wish the empress had acted a little swifter with her justice."

"The Comte de Forseau was hung the day after you handed over your—my evidence," Amelia objected.

"Then how was it his men were the ones who chased me for a week and dragged me out here?"

This time, silence did descend as neither Amelia nor Zevran seemed to have an answer.

They sat there a long, painstaking moment before Katrina shifted, uncomfortable. "You said that the rumors say the Avvar killed me?"

"Mmhm," Zevran hummed, his hands behind his head. "It has much of the Orlesian court up in arms. 'Something must be done to quell the barbarians' savage nature.' That they would attack a poor, innocent dear such as yourself is just mortifying to all of them, I'm sure."

Katrina could picture their over the top arguments, their dramatic stands, all the unnecessary pomp and circumstance that went with their court. "But my point… you say there is a growing group who wishes to move against the Avvar?"

"Yes," Amelia nodded. "Everyone thought that Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons would take advantage of the outrage to push for military movements against the Avvar, as a way to win favor with the court—since it is rumored that he is seeking the throne, himself."

Katrina's blood slowly started to drain from her face as she imagined what that might mean for the Avvar clans near Orlais. For Cullen and his people.

Amelia shrugged. "The empress was ready to defend that the Avvar attacking one carriage, as tragic as it is, is hardly grounds for wiping out their people, but with the Grand Duke failing to incite incense in the people, those who wish to see your attackers brought to justice are forced to turn to the empress herself."

"Amelia," Katrina began, the wheels in her mind working slowly. "Would you look at some journals for me? They were in the carriage that was supposed to be destroyed by Avvar. They detail someone's dealings with both the Avvar and the nobility of Orlais and possibly other countries. I've never been good at keeping up with court gossip, but you…" She trailed off before adding, "I think whoever it is was the one behind my kidnapping and attempted assassination."

"You think the Orlesians seek to use you as some pawn?" Amelia asked, brow dipping down at the thought.

With a small, heartless chuckle, Katrina shook her head. "It is a long story, dear sister."