All Fall Down
By:
SurreptitiousFox245

Disclaimer: I don't own Elder Scrolls or Dragon Age. All rights go to their respective people.

Quick Author's Note: Well, here it is. Ungodly long again. Woot! I love long chapters. They mean my muse was flowing strong.

I'm going to warn that watched Star Trek: 2009 and Star Trek: Into Darkness while writing this chapter, so there's a few instances where the word "logical" was used. It was my own half-assed attempted at a reference. Sorry if it's cheesy - I tried not to make it so.

I got some interesting theories as to how Lorkhan is going to manifest. Both of my guest reviewers Questioner and Guest had very good guesses, but you're still off the mark. I'm still gonna give you virtual cookies, though. So enjoy ;)


"Out flew the web and floated wide-
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
'
The curse is come upon me,' cried
The Lady of Shalott.
"

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "The Lady of Shalott"


Chapter 8


~Thedas – 9:41 Dragon~


"Who are you?!" exclaimed a voice you knew to belong to Justinia's Right Hand, Cassandra Pentaghast.

You turned slightly, keeping one hand clenched around the banister only marginally for support and taking in the people standing almost shell-shocked behind you. You couldn't see them clearly, but could make out the female warrior's distinct silhouette, along with a tall human male wielding a long sword, shield on his back. A shock of chestnut hair fell into eyes that you couldn't see well enough to determine the color, peach toned skin contrasting with the shade of brown atop his head. He wore armor over some sort of green coat, but the details you couldn't discern. Accompanying the two were the dwarven rogue with the crossbow and barefaced elven mage you had passed earlier. An eyebrow lifted in amusement at the two, but you didn't comment.

The human man spoke up first, "She's not one of yours I take it?"

"No," Cassandra ground warily. "We have not sent anyone up here. I will ask again – who are you?"

"Consider me a…well, an interested third party. You can call me Lys," you said slowly, second-guessing the name you gave only after it was too late to take it back. "Tell me. I came across some scouts that had been sent through a mountain pass not far from here. They were fighting rather fiercely with a Rift, and I helped them until there was a lull in the flow of demons spewing from the accursed thing. Did they make it back to the camp okay?" You already knew the answer, but you were hoping inquiring to the woman would be an olive branch, so to speak.

It didn't seem to be, as she tensed her grip on her sword, "You saved our missing scouts? I am not aware of them contacting the camp. You could be lying."

"You didn't let anyone outside know about them, right?" asked the dwarf. "The fact she knows means she could just as easily be telling the truth as lying, Seeker."

Cassandra shot him a dirty glance, "It could still be fabricated." Your eye twitched involuntarily. The woman seemed about as paranoid as you were, and that was saying something; you by yourself gave a whole new meaning to the word "paranoia".

Sweat beaded your brow as the Breach gave another pulse. Your magic still swirled underneath your skin, but you had tempered the flow once the group had approached in hopes that it would make it less noticeable. Had your left hand not been gripping the rail and your right not pressed against your thigh, you were sure the limbs would have been shaking.

"You're here! Thank the…Maker…," a female voice trailed off, unsure. You could barely make out the form of the Divine's Left Hand along with a small contingent of scouts coming up to a stop behind Cassandra's group and fought back a groan. Sure, the more the merrier, you thought sarcastically.

You heard the dwarf mutter something under his breath as Cassandra spoke in clipped tones, "Leliana. Did those scouts in the pass make it back to camp?"

The Orlesian woman paused for a moment before answering dazedly, "Yes, actually. I just received word that the survivors arrived. We lost a few, but the Lieutenant said that a masked woman arrived and helped them with a Fade Rift they ran into until it was safe for them to make their way back. According to her, if that woman had not arrived, they would most likely be dead."

The dwarf suddenly scoffed wryly, "She certainly looks like she had a run in with demons."

"Yes. Unfortunately, I have the feeling it's going to take me ages to wash the demon blood off the mask," you chuckled. "Anyway, do you believe me now? I think it safe to say that if I wished you harm, I would have attacked by now."

Leliana stepped forward to stand beside Cassandra, motioning her men to stay where they were, "If not to harm, then why are you here?" Gathering up the strength, you shuffled silently to the side and gestured up to where the Breach was looming precariously in the air.

"That," you said dryly. "I was in the Free Marches when this thing exploded, and I could feel the shockwave all the way across the Waking Sea. I'm curious – concerned even, if you want to take it that far. Add in the fact that it's regurgitating demons, and I think you can get the general idea of why I wanted to check it out."

"Impressive that you managed to slip past the defenses set up on the way here," the elf finally spoke. Your brow furrowed immediately at the curiously Dalish accent that lined the rich tenor of his voice. He had no vallaslin…perhaps he had left his clan before receiving them? The man was a mage, and you knew what clans…encouraged their mages to do once the clan's capacity exceeded three of magical talent. Most managed to make it as mercenaries, but the air about him did not scream one particular to combat. He struck you more as a scholar. Not many Dalish apostates separated from their clans tended to focus much on study, so he was a decided oddity…or a threat, you couldn't quite decide which.

Shaking the ponderings from your mind to be addressed another time, you shrugged offhandedly and made a dismissive sound in the back of your throat, "You should tell your men to be more alert, then. I walked right in front of them and they never noticed a thing." You decided to let them assume you were using a metaphor instead of that you actually had walked right in front of the Chantry soldiers…

The human suddenly guffawed in laughter and slapped the dwarf on a low-standing shoulder, "Ha! She probably slipped right by you! Eyes need checking, Varric?"

Varric? You frowned. That name sounded familiar…you couldn't quite place it, though...

Cassandra growled, "Enough! This blathering is pointless. Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple." The redhead hesitated for barely a second before nodding gravely and turning on her heel. A few hand motions that you couldn't clearly discern had the contingent of rogues and warriors behind her scrambling cautiously into action. Archers perched themselves precariously on railings and crumbling pillars so quickly you were actually impressed at their effectiveness.

Turning back to face the mass of energy tumultuously swirling in the sky, you heard Varric give a humorless chuckle, "Come to think of it, the Breach is a long way up…"

"This is your chance to end this," said Cassandra sternly to her prisoner. "Are you ready?"

The human let out a hiss of air from between his teeth, "I…I'll try, but I don't know if I can reach that, much less close it…"

"No. This Rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach," the elf's tone was grim.

"I'm game to help, if you'll let me," you said. "I know my way around a dagger."

Cassandra appraised you briefly before nodding resolutely, "Alright. Do not make me regret allowing you to help."

"Err…right, sure thing. Uh, thank you?" you blinked, not quite sure how to reply to the quasi-threat, but not entirely certain how it would be taken if you didn't. You turned your attention to the path leading off to the right and gestured towards it. "We should probably find a way down, first off. I haven't had much time to look, but I'm fairly certain that this leads where we need it to."

The human man shrugged as Cassandra led your group down the indicated path, "Good to have you with us, I think. My name's Alan. Alan Trevelyan." He gave you a slight inclination of his head in lieu of a proper greeting as you walked, and you returned it in kind.

"Lys, like I said. No last name, so don't bother asking," you lied crisply, but your tone not unfriendly. "And you, serahs?" The elf you had turned to face blinked at you a moment, probably at the term of address you had used. Varric didn't seem to have much of a different reaction, and Cassandra just kept walking briskly forward. You tended to use it a lot, you realized absently, but chocked it up to the generally Free Marcher word being similar to the Dunmeri term "sera", and therefore easier to turn to.

Finally, Solas nodded to you as he shifted the staff in his hands, "My name is Solas." You raised an eyebrow. Pride? Who in their right minds either named their kid or named themselves after a type of emotion usually deemed demonic…?

Elves, you thought sarcastically.

"Varric Tethras, at your service, milady," the dwarf bowed comically with a suave wink that really only served to make you give an unladylike snort that quickly turned to a frown. Tethras. Varric Tethras…why was that name so damn familiar? "The grumpy Seeker is – "

"I can introduce myself, dwarf. And I am not 'grumpy'," Cassandra said with a huff, spitting Varric's race as if it was poison while you watched on in amusement. "I am Cassandra Pentaghast." Opening your mouth to respond, you never got the chance.

"Now is the hour of our victory…bring forth the sacrifice." Your intended sentence morphed into an audible groan of exasperation.

Turning your face skyward, you muttered, "Oh, Gods, not that maniac again…"

Cassandra snapped, "What are we hearing?" She was glowering at you in a way that made you decidedly uncomfortable. It didn't help matters any that the Breach took that particular moment to let out a pulse of energy and you had to fight a stumble.

"No, don't look at me!" Your hands shot into the universal "peace" gesture. "It's been repeating in a loop since I got here. This is the fourth time I've got to listen to that creep drone on about his sacrifice. Oblivion if I know what or who it is."

"At a guess," Solas mused after a moment of consideration, "probably the person who created the Breach."

You nodded, "I'd believe it. With a voice like that, he just screams evil bad guy – please watch helplessly while I split a giant hole in the sky."

"You forgot to…add…oh, that's not good…," Varric trailed off from behind you. The little party suddenly halted, and you couldn't help the feeling of nausea that washed over you suddenly. In a manner you hoped was subtle, you pressed your hand to the rock rising up to your right and confirmed your suspicions. You all had stopped directly in front of a particularly large deposit of red lyrium.

"You…know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker?" the dwarf asked warily, casting a side glance up to Cassandra, whose jaw clenched unnervingly.

"I see it, Varric."

"But what's it doing here?"

That was what you wanted to know.

Solas shrugged, "Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple…corrupted it."

"Yeah, that could have is all well and good…at least, until the uncertainty gets us all killed," you muttered under your breath. No one seemed to hear you, and you didn't bother reiterating yourself.

"It's evil," scoffed Varric. "Whatever you do, don't touch it."

The group began moving again, but this time at a slower pace, trying to avoid the smattering of red shards that had started to litter the ground. Bile rose in the back of your throat for the second time that day, and you forced it down once more. If you were to cease moving again, your knees probably would have been trembling. A feeling of weakness crashed over you in a wave, like all your energy had been sapped by the Aedric magic seeping out of the Breach's cracks and further drained by the lyrium's taint.

When Justinia's voice finally screeched her futile plea for help, Cassandra's shocked exclamation went in one pointed ear and out the other. Much as you were weakened by the energies swirling around you, something just seemed…wrong. You fingered your daggers absently as the five of you leaped off of a small ledge, finally drawing closer to the damnable hole in the sky. As you all cautiously walked forward around the base of what had once been an impressive statue, a hissing sound not unlike the sound Rifts made began emitting from Alan. It took you only a moment to realize that it was the mark he'd been found with reacting to its maker. Your eyes went almost comically wide behind the mask.

"Someone, help me!"

"What's going on here?"

All heads swiveled so quickly towards the Trevelyan; you swore you heard a few vertebrae pop. Alan's breathing was irregular, from pain, you reasoned. You didn't have to be able to see Varric, Cassandra, or Solas' faces to be able to tell they were bemusedly grim.

"That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you…but…," Cassandra started, but the sharp shifting noises that emitted from the Breach dragged everyone's attention back towards the magical rift. You sucked in a sharp hiss of pain as wave upon wave of Aedric magic crashed over you. Stumbling backwards, your reaction was successfully masked only by the fact that everyone else had taken a step away from the misbehaving Breach.

"What's going on here?" a reflection of Alan's voice asked forcefully again.

"Run while you can!" Not-Justina called, desperate. "Warn them!"

The original speaker's inhuman purr interrupted, "We have an intruder. Kill him. Now!" A whirring sound followed, and all magic and noise further ceased. You sighed quietly in relief as it felt like about half of the weight that had been pressing on your chest suddenly vanished.

"You were there! Who attacked?" bombarded the Seeker before anyone really had a chance to completely recover from the…whatever it was. "And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?" Seeing? So there had been visuals to go along with… Lovely, you groused. Magical visions – yet another thing you were unable to see no matter the circumstance.

"I don't remember," Alan's voice was firm, but you could year the distinct undertone of distress. Amnesia, then? Wonderfulthings just kept getting better and better.

Solas, who had walked several steps ahead of the group, spoke up, "Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place."

You rolled your eyes. No shit

"This Rift is not sealed, but it is closed…albeit temporarily," continued the elf, digging the end of his staff into the dirt and leaning on it. "I believe that with the mark, the Rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely."

Grimacing, you muttered, "That means demons, doesn't it? I think that means demons."

He nodded, "Unfortunately. Opening it will likely attract attention from the other side, but it is the only option I see." Sighing melodramatically, you made a show of lazily drawing your daggers and slumping in defeat.

"So much for avoiding more demon blood. Goodbye, freshly-applied mask finish. You were shiny and pretty while you lasted." Behind you, Varric snorted but drew the cumbersome crossbow with a practiced flourish.

The next few moments were a blur. You vaguely recalled Cassandra shouting a ready order to Leliana's men and the redhead herself joining the five of you with her bow, but all of that was quickly deemed unimportant the moment the gargantuan demon materialized when Alan used the mark on the Breach.

"Shit!" you cursed when the thing thumped noisily to the ground. Jumping into a smooth roll, you ducked your way into a shadowed corner that was out-of-the-way and took a moment just to observe. The thing was truly massive, making the twig-like and shadowy demons you had fought earlier look like pebbles in comparison. It was easily three stories tall and all grotesque, purplish leathery skin and spikes and spines. It looked like someone had stripped the fur off of a troll, made the troll fifteen feet tall, and given it too many horns.

Oh, and it also appeared very fond of shooting lightning off in random directions.

Bemoaning your fate under your breath, you darted out from your cover, sneaked your way behind the thing, and began slashing at what of its hamstrings you could reach. When outsized, disable. The thing's skin was tough, but you managed to make a few deep cuts that really only looked like they were serving to piss it off more.

When it tried to raise some kind of defense, it shot you back several feet. You miscalculated the trajectory and managed to land wrong on your left ankle. The feeling of tendon stretching abnormally caused you to wince sharply. There wasn't anything you could do for the sprain with so many people around. You'd have to tough it out, but damn if it didn't smart.

You felt Alan use his weird hand-magic thing to disrupt the Breach, which from Cassandra's shouts seemed to take down whatever shields the thing had erected, but also drawn several shadowy demons (shades, you realized when one of Leliana's rogues called it that) through.

While you were preoccupied keeping one of the buggers from breaking your collarbone (again), you didn't realize the second sneaking up on you until it was suddenly frozen in a case of ice. Shocked, you quickly slit the throat of the other shade before whirling around and making quick work shattering the demonicicle… "Demonicicle" – you snorted. It was catchy.

"Are you harmed?" Solas shouted above the general din of battle as he quickly flicked his staff this way and that to hurl general spells at the demons.

You shook your head, mind flashing to your ankle. The lie came so easily, you supposed you should have been abhorred with yourself. "No. Thanks, I owe you one!"

As it turned out for the rest of the battle's duration, both Solas and Varric would save your hide more than enough times for you to practically owe the dwarf and elf life-debts. The combination of the Breach unevenly pulsing and proximity of the lyrium had knocked you thoroughly off your game. Spraining your ankle by landing wrong on it had been your first clue. Letting the shade sneak up on you had been the second. You were practically mistress of shadow. No one sneaked up on you. Not even demons that practically were shadows.

Still, you fought as admirably as you could with the rest, and watched with bated breath once the beast of a demon had finally been felled as Alan raised his left hand to the Breach. Magic tingled through the air before the thing finally exploded outward with a rush of energy. You stumbled, noting that you had been doing a lot of that as of late, before righting yourself quickly as people began rushing around you.

"Trevelyan!" Cassandra cried suddenly. The demon had dissolved, and no more had deigned to take its place, but Alan had collapsed. He was convulsing, you noticed, and you wasted no time rushing over to where Solas, having caught the unresponsive man, was bent over him.

Crashing to your knees opposite the elf, you attempted to help hold Alan steady, "I'll keep him from hurting himself, you figure out what in Oblivion is wrong." Shooting you a nod of gratitude, you tried not to flinch outwardly as he cast ripple after ripple of healing magic over the seizing warrior. Instead of feeling soothing to you, the wreath of energy scalded your skin.

"It's the mark," the elf mumbled after a second. "There was too much strain." He didn't seem to have meant to say the words aloud, as he was startled when Leliana spoke sharply.

"Will he live?"

Solas pursed his lips, "Perhaps. If we can get him back to the village quick enough, I might be able to stabilize it. But he took some hits from the demon. His physical condition needs to be mitigated first, and I am no healer."

Cassandra motioned towards several soldiers, "We've no time to lose, then. Help carry him. And you," she turned her attention sharply towards you, eyes blazing, "will be coming with us. I still have questions for you." You nodded numbly, realizing that there wasn't really much choice in the matter.

Let the games begin, you though wryly as you began helping the soldiers carry the unconscious warrior.


Several hours later found you sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair. Leliana was seated across a rickety wooden table from you, lips pursed in a manner you could only describe as disgruntled.

"You're name is Lys, correct?" You nodded.

"And you're refusing to give us a last name?"

Shrugging, you replied simply, "I don't have one. It's just Lys. Always has been." Only a half-lie, you reasoned.

Leliana continued without missing a beat, "You're an elf, you said. Where are you from? You're accent says Free Marches."

"Around," you sighed evasively. "I'm an orphan, to be short. I was raised by an historian who traveled a lot. He died around ten years ago, and I was taken in for a short time by a Dalish clan. I left after a while and have been making my own way ever since. That's the third time you've asked me that, ma'am. How do you expect it to change in five minutes?" Another half-lie; you were becoming frighteningly good at those in the past day.

"Just making sure. You're a mercenary, or something of the like?"

You got the urge to laugh, "'Or something'. I do odd jobs. Sometimes mercenary work, sometimes laboring – it just depends on where I am and what's being asked." And there was the outright lie – you figured it was only a matter of time. You had been right.

The spymaster regarded you before huffing out a soul weary sigh, "We'll be looking into this, but I don't see any reason why you cannot stay. Despite struggling during the fight at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, you have been understanding and mostly complied with our demands." You winced at the inflection of "mostly", knowing it was an indirect reference to your evasion of directly answering questions.

"You'll be assigned quarters close to the Chantry," Leliana continued before you could get a chance to explain your shoddy fighting at the Temple, "and you'll be watched for any external correspondence. If you've proven yourself trustworthy after a few weeks, we'll speak with Commander Cullen about perhaps allowing you to train some with those…interesting daggers of yours." No external correspondence? Dand was going to flip

Nodding anyway, you kept your tone somber, "Ma'am, if I may, I do not require training." She didn't spare you a look as she shuffled through a few papers that had been set before her.

"Your performance at the Temple suggests otherwise. Solas and Varric claim they had to do more than their fair share of keeping you alive, and Cassandra and several archers claimed to have seen you favoring your left leg on the walk back to Haven."

Breathing in deeply, you let the air slowly hiss out of your nose in an attempt to quell your temper that was threatening to flare with a vengeance, "I had just traveled without pause to Haven from the area near Kirkwall, and fought my way up a mountain crawling with demons, only to have to fight one bigger than a house. I believe I am well within my rights to claim I was merely exhausted and that exhaustion was impairing my ability to fight."

"Perhaps," she acknowledged. "However, Cassandra and I have agreed to take caution with you. If that involves not allowing you to fight right away, then that is what we are going to do."

You hesitated for a moment, "I do have one question. Why inform me of this, of the fact that you intend to keep an eye on me? It is…counterproductive, no?"

The look the other woman gave you was a mixture of suspicious and amused, "I have a feeling you would have found out on your own eventually."

"And you didn't want to risk upsetting a potential ally?" It was more a statement than a question.

Leliana nodded, "In a manner of speaking." Short and vague; she didn't elaborate further.

"You're free to leave. The guard out front will show you to your quarters." Without further explanation, the redhead ushered you quickly out of the war room set up at the back of Haven's chantry. The sound of the heavy door slamming shut with purpose behind you was mildly amusing, whereas the stoic guard assigned to show you to your new lodgings was anything but. He was decked out in Templar armor, probably a refugee from the mage-templar conflict, and you had little doubt that he either saw himself above menial guard duty or wasn't too keen on showing some potentially dangerous masked stranger to where she would be staying within his camp. From the noncommittal grunts and sideways glares you received from under his helmet, you had a hankering suspicion it was the latter.

"Not your idea of a fun Sunday afternoon, I take it?" you asked sarcastically.

"Hn."

You crossed your arms and turned your face forward as the front doors to the Chantry were heaved open, and a blast of cold air from outside smacked you soundly, "Are all you Templars trained to be so sickeningly uptight? I'd have a better conversation talking to a stone wall…"

"Hn."

Scoffing, you decided not to respond as you were led past the tavern and up a few stone steps wedged into the snowy ground. The stench of herbs hit you full force, and it didn't take you but a few more sniffs to recognize elfroot and dawn lotus tingeing the air. You were being placed near a healer. Lovely.

A heavy hand on your still tender shoulder practically dragged you over to one of the small cabins off to the left and unceremoniously pushed you inside, "Hey! Watch the arm! Not all of us are encased in infallible steel, you damned brute!"

Your escort simple stared you down for a moment as he stood in the doorway to the cabin, "Your glibness will only do you harm, woman. You are to remain here at all times until you are told otherwise. Do not go against those demands."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, safety risk. I get it. And what do you mean 'will only do me harm'? Is that a threat? Actually, don't answer that. It probably was. Now, do you mind? It's kind of drafty in here with the door open." Without giving you even a courteous farewell, the Templar turned crisply on his heel and marched away. You leaned out the doorway to pull the wooden slab shut, noting that Solas was leaving the hut across from yours. Putting you close to the apostate was…not very sound, unless they trusted the man. Which, you realized with distaste as you watched him close the door to his cabin and eye you strangely, they obviously did more than they trusted you.

"Hey, tin-man! Tell Leliana that if she's going through all this trouble to confine me to a cabin, she might as well have just kept me in the damned holding cells! Morons...," you shouted at the retreating soldier's back, but if he heard you, he didn't acknowledge it as he turned the corner out of sight.

"They probably figured this was more comfortable than a cell. You did help with the Breach – I'd imagine this is their way of showing gratitude." Solas said, the suddenness of his statement causing you to jump.

You regarded him a moment, noting that he didn't have his staff with him. Whether of his own volition or at the behest of Leliana and Cassandra, you couldn't tell. "Maybe, but forcing me to be confined to my quarters is an admittedly shitty way to go about showing it." Heaving a sigh, you slumped exhaustedly against the doorframe so your sprained ankle would cease crying for your weight to be taken off of it.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. Not much I can do at any rate to get them to trust me other than comply. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's how you did it?"

The elf nodded as he stepped a bit closer so the two of you weren't shouting across the small…plaza, for lack of a better term, "I am an apostate, as you probably guessed. 'Trust', I fear, is too strong a term. 'Tolerate' is perhaps more apt."

"Yeah," you snorted, waving a hand haphazardly at the cabin behind you. "Unfortunately, I think I'm a few steps behind tolerated." You realized as he was standing closer that he was taller than most elves you'd encountered, about as tall as yourself. Not that that was much of a feat, you thought sourly. You'd always been short for an Altmer.

"Just give them time," he advised, a chuckle in his voice that should have probably seemed condescending. "Cassandra and Leliana are understandably slow to trust."

"Leliana is. I think Cassandra's just impressively paranoid," you rolled your eyes. "Oh, while you're here, I wanted to thank you for saving my ass back at the Temple. I wasn't…at at my best, I'm ashamed to admit," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. "Ma melava halani, Solas. Ma serannas."

He seemed amusingly shell-shocked, "It is no problem, lethallan. You speak elven?"

"Well, I am an elf. It only makes sense I suppose," you laughed. "Around ten years ago, I was injured badly and taken in by a Dalish clan for a time. The Keeper taught me a lot while I was recovering."

"You are fortunate that they were nearby, then," he conceded, but there was something in his tone that told you the respect was grudging, forced. Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline at that. So, maybe not Dalish, then?

"Quite," you agreed distractedly. "Anyway, I take it that since no one is running around in a panic that you managed to get that mark on Alan's hand stable?"

Solas nodded, "Yes. I do not know when he will wake up, but the mark doesn't seem to be growing anymore, and the Breach is…tentatively stable." You barked a short, mirthless laugh.

"'Tentatively stable' – that doesn't sound all that great."

"There aren't demons emerging from it any longer," he drawled with the barest hint of sarcasm.

Throwing your head back, you didn't stop the guffaws that tore from your throat, "Well that is a plus, isn't it? At least whatever was done to it seems to have bought time."

He sighed, "Indeed. I dislike cutting our conversation short; however I'm afraid I am going to be late for a meeting with Cassandra." A meeting, huh? Your right hand twitched the slightest bit.

"Oh, it's no problem. I'm sorry to have kept you," you dipped your head in a gesture of respect you weren't quite sure yet whether you felt or not. "Dareth shiral."

As Solas returned the farewell and walked away, you began plotting as soon as your door had shut. That meeting probably had something to do with Alan and the Breach, and you had every intention of spying on it.

After all, whatever guards the Chantry could pull were no match for your invisibility spells.


Too easy. That was your first thought as you settled your invisible self smugly against the left hand wall of the makeshift war room. Around the table bustled two human women, a human man, a male elf, and a male dwarf who shuffled quickly to attention the minute Cassandra strode purposefully through the large doors.

"Solas," she grit through her teeth, voice strained from some unknown factor, "what is the Herald's condition?"

The elf stood a little straighter, arms clasped politely behind his back in stark contrast to the undignified slump of the dwarf next to him, "The mark is stable for now, as far as I am able to tell. I was informed by Adan that his physical wounds should heal without issue."

"And the Breach?"

He shook his head slowly, "I am not certain. I would have to observe it up close to be sure, but it appears to be…sealed, calm."

A woman decked in almost gaudy finery and holding a clipboard spoke up in a decidedly Antivan accent, "Sealed? It is not closed?" The elf didn't verbally respond, instead settling for shaking his head gravely.

Leliana sighed, resting her hands on the table where a map was spread, "Do we have any idea what could have caused the explosion yet?" The human man, another warrior, draped his hands on the pommel of the sword belted to his waist. His very presence was charismatic, but that wasn't the reason you had taken note of him the moment you stepped into the room. No, the blond man was a Templar. You could practically smell the power rolling off of him. It wasn't oppressive to you as it would have been to a Thedosian mage, but it was still something easily noted and it made you only the slightest bit uncomfortable. If there was anyone aside from Solas who would be able to sense your magic (and, by extent, you) should he get a desire to look for it, it would be him.

"Not yet, no. It wasn't magic that anyone could tell, that much is certain," he frowned, the scar across his lips becoming even starker with the motion. "As for what it was exactly, we've no clue. No remnants of any kind of device have been found in the vicinity as of yet."

"And Solas said he cannot imaging a mage being behind it," mused the Seeker as a hand found its way under her chin in thought. "I suppose all we can do for that is to keep looking. Much as it pains me, I must also agree with a comment Varric made earlier. The presence of the lyrium is…troubling."

Varric blinked and then made an over-exaggerated show of wiggling a stubby finger in his ear, "Do…do my ears deceive me, or did Cassandra just…agree with me?" His voice was too aghast for the emotion to be genuine, and the woman predictably turned sharp brown eyes at the rogue. Those two got on about as well as an Imperial and a Stormcloak, you thought, amused.

"Do not get used to it, dwarf," she spat venomously. You really didn't understand why Cassandra bothered – even you knew by then that Varric was going to milk the comment for all it was worth and do it with the biggest shit-eating grin known to man plastered firmly on his face.

Thankfully, though, he didn't really get the chance to comment before Leliana spoke up again, "I think our first step in regards to the red lyrium would be figuring out exactly what it is. We'd do ourselves no favors by running into this blind."

"I have already sent inquiries to Orzammar," the Antivan sighed dramatically as she elegantly shifted on her feet, quill poised purposefully. "It will be several more days before I may hear anything back, and that is being optimistic. The only other place I can fathom asking about it would be a Circle, and that…probably would not be wise." The Circles were in chaos. Even you wouldn't touch contacting one or the rebel mages scattered about with a ten foot pole. It was part of the reason you hadn't spoken to Dagna and Daylen in almost a year. You weren't willing to risk contacting them.

The Templar spoke impatiently, "There must be something we can do about it, someone we can contact. I don't like that stuff being so close to Haven and knowing so little about it."

"The Shadow Broker is always an option," Varric offered sarcastically. You had to purse your lips to keep from snorting at the irony.

"The Shadow Broker is a criminal," Cassandra stated finally, crossing her arms. "And even so, it is impossible to get in contact with him."

Leliana straightened with a nod, "Not to mention dangerous. I had agents attempt to find him before. I have reason to believe two got close, but I was never able to find him."

Solas eyebrows shot up, "What makes you think you got close?"

"They were killed," stated the redhead bluntly, "only a short ways away from a campsite by some rather skilled knife work. None of the traps they had placed around their location had been triggered, either." Ah, you remembered those morons. Mages from Dairsmuid your ass – how stupid had they thought you were?

"Are you sure it was the Broker?" asked the Antivan. "They could have easily been mistakenly following a Crow. That…never ends well."

Leliana shook her head decisively, "Oh, I'm positive. I saw the bodies myself. This was lying next to them." Out from a pocket hidden away in her light chainmail, the spymaster pulled a dried purple flower. Though long dead and shriveled, the form of an amaryllis was clearly distinct. Your eyes widened at the sight. She'd found and kept your calling card, then? That was…not scary at all…

Varric chortled, "Yep. That's him. Or at least someone who wants you to think he's the Broker. I take it he didn't like you tailing him, Lady Nightingale." That was an understatement. You had been less than amused.

"I didn't chance sending anyone else after that. I was not keen on losing more agents."

"It does not matter," Cassandra sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "There is obviously no way to get in contact with him, or even any proof that the Broker is only one person. It could be a group. This is pointless."

Varric seemed to hesitate for a moment, "Well…not necessarily."

"Why does you having an idea not surprise me?" Solas asked rhetorically. No one answered, much to your own amusement.

All eyes turned to the dwarf, and he shrugged in a manner that was almost too nonchalant, "He's got dead drops all over the Free Marches. Have someone stick a note there, get his…their attention."

"That isn't guaranteed to work," the male warrior scoffed. "Our attempts could very well be ignored."

Varric threw his arms out exasperatedly, "You got a better idea, Curly?" You had only a split second of indecision before you decided to take the golden opportunity given to you. Making sure no one was looking and that the corner you had shuffled into was sufficiently shadowed, you let your invisibility spell gradually drop.

"Trying to find the Broker, are you? That's ambitious. You don't even know if you'll be given the info you're asking for."

Everyone whirled on you so quickly, you almost thought they'd have whiplash. Seeing their confusion, you detached your hand from the wall behind you and took a step into the flickering candlelight. The silence that followed made you wish beyond reason that you could have seen the looks on their faces.

"Why are you here?" Cassandra snapped suddenly. "How did you even get in here? This room is guarded!"

You scoffed, placing your weight on your left hip and crossing your arms, "I was curious. And as for how I got in here, I came in through the door. I said it once, I'll say it again – you need better guards."

"I trained those men myself," the blond warrior huffed, insult laced in his voice in a manner that made you grin.

"Yes," you drawled, voice falsely cheery, "and what a resoundingly superb job you've done!" You could feel the glare. It was more than worth it.

Leliana spoke up, "I told you to remain in your quarters until we could sort out whether or not you are a threat, Lys."

You bobbed your head in acknowledgement, "Yes, you did. I decided not to listen. You should be glad I didn't. I know where you can find the Broker."

The reaction was instantaneous. A conglomeration of voices began garbling together in shocked monologue and questions. You heard Cassandra's seemingly ordinary tone of firm indignation demanding what you knew mirrored only by the blond man's ineloquent inquiry of, "What?" The Antivan's stuttering flounder of half-questions was masked by Varric's snort of amusement and Solas' quiet pondering. Leliana was predictably silent as well, no doubt appraising you swiftly.

Deciding the noise was not helping matters, you inhaled and let out a screeching whistle that effectively caused the chattering jaws to shut with a snap! "Mara's mercy, people, one at a time, please?"

Varric was the first to break the terse silence that followed, "You know where to find probably the most elusive figure of Thedas' criminal underground? Just off the top of your head?"

You nodded brightly, "Yep. Sure do."

"This doesn't change anything," the Antivan woman waved her hand haphazardly. "We still cannot be sure this Shadow Broker will help us. Approaching him could be a waste of time and resources we cannot spare. Especially since the last time people were sent to find them…" She trailed off warily.

"Oh, you won't have to go very far. The Broker's nearby, actually. And I can guarantee you'll get the help you're looking for instead of, say, a dagger in the back."

Leliana's voice was cautious, "You're oddly certain…" Sending her an odd look that she couldn't see behind your mask, you gestured to the people gathered in the room.

"Well, for one, killing you would be entirely counterproductive. That hole in the sky? The demons? Bad for living. What's bad for living is usually bad for business, if you catch my meaning. You're working to fix that issue."

The Templar shook his head, "So he'll or they'll help us because we're doing the morally right thing that just so happens to make it easier for him or them to illegally sell information?" Frowning, you realized distastefully that you were surrounded by a bunch of goody-two-shoes law-abiders. At least, you thought as you casted a glance towards Solas and Varric, you were mostly surrounded b a bunch of goody-two-shoes law-abiders.

"That's about the gist of it, yeah. You're asking a criminal for help – don't expect any more than what you're getting."

"Enough of this," Cassandra said. "We are not going to know until we ask him for ourselves. Where is the Broker, Lys?"

A khajiit-that-ate-the-canary grin broke across your face as you spread your arms wide with a little more showmanship than was necessary, "You're looking at her."

"You?" Leliana asked doubtfully. "You're the Shadow Broker…?" The slight intake of breath you heard from her meant that she had let her eyes wander down to your dagger and actually take the time to look them over. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she had tentatively matched their unique shape to the stab wounds on her dead scouts.

"The one and only…at least, I hope," you frowned mockingly. "If there's another Shadow Broker out there, then the past nine or so years of my life have been a lie…or maybe just a dream brought on by some bad cake…never can tell…"

Varric stepped forward, "Alright, Prowler. I've bought information from the Broker before. If you're really her, then prove it." It suddenly hit you like a brick wall where you had heard his name before. A bitter chuckle left your throat and interrupted the riot act Cassandra was reading the dwarf for buying information from a criminal.

"Varric Tethras. Now I know why you're name is so familiar," you said darkly. "You bid at one of Cumberland's dead drops – used the pseudonym Aerin Sathet. Of course, you yourself didn't make the bid since you were in Kirkwall, but had people in your little spy ring do it for you. I was admittedly a bit shocked to find that a little kid had been the one to actually place it. Had to work extra that week to track the bid to you, specifically. I had information on a rogue Carta ring holing up in an abandoned Grey Warden fortress in the Western Approach for sale. You bid the most for that, way above the others – sixty sovereigns to the mean twenty. You...you used to traipse about with Garrett Hawke's little band, didn't you?"

"Yeah, don't remind me," he muttered before heaving a sigh. "You're definitely the Broker. Well, either that or eerily well-informed, in which case, remind me never to inspire you to find blackmail on me." The other seemed rightfully gobsmacked, and you reveled in the shock.

Cassandra growled, "So you are…why help us? What do you want in return?"

"In short?" you asked, your voice hard. "I want that damn hole in the sky fixed, permanently. I may be selfish, a tad greedy, and arguably without morals, but I do have some standards, and that thing is bad no matter who you are. So I want that closed, and the sick bastard responsible for opening it in the first place dead. The world's here for a reason – ending it won't do anyone any favors, and I'd love to help knock the moron who thought it would down a few pegs."

"I believe," Solas started, and you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, "that is a standard we can all respect."

Leliana asked, "So you're offering information?"

"When I can, yes. I do most of my own recon, so it will admittedly be a little slower if you plan on keeping me in Haven. I'm going to have to send the handful of contacts I have to specifically look for information pertaining to the Breach, but I can probably feed you other relevant information as you need it, free of charge. All I ask is that I get to be there when you bring the son of a bitch that did this and you keep my identity on a need-to-know basis."

Cassandra and the redhead spymaster shared a look before the warrior stepped forward and shook your hand firmly. You were granted a more enhanced view of her, noting the dark Nevarran skin and the two scars that gouged opposite sides of her face. "In that case…welcome to the Inquisition." You blinked slowly. You hadn't been aware that they were starting an Inquisition, though given current events, you supposed it made sense.

Regardless, you grinned, "Glad to be welcomed, Cassandra."


Final Words: Yep. I put a "the cake is a lie" reference. I also had a Mass Effect reference in here, too. It was a line similar to something Aria T'Loak said. Props if you find it.

Ah, Lys figures out Varric's connection to Hawke. And Varric gives Lys a nickname. Varric and Flemeth are probably two of my favorite characters in the Dragon Age games. I just love 'em to bits.

Here's a translation of the Elvish in this chapter:

Ma melava halani, Solas. - "You helped me, Solas."
Ma serannas - Thank you
lethallan - a casual reference to someone with whom one is acquainted. I take it to mean something along the lines of "friend", however the wiki postulates it means something more akin to "cousin" or "clansman".
Dareth shiral - "safe journey", a common farewell.

I hate the way I ended this, but once more with my rewriting stuff sixty thousand times, I finally picked the one I thought was best and just went with it. Curse my standards. Anyway, hope you liked it.

R&R!
~SurreptitiousFox