Thank you to all of you for reading! Special thanks to Oleander's One for the beta - her attention to detail saves me from all sorts of embarrassing errors!
"He feels the seals weaken! He knows you are close. We must be ready!" Larius's voice was breathless and eager, and Hawke felt revulsion rise higher in her as he drew closer to her.
"What are you talking about?"
"Corypheus! He—" Larius broke off, staring around him, twitching at what Hawke assumed to be shadows. "What's that? Who— No." The word was a moan, a protest. "They are here."
"They?" Fenris asked. "Who is they? The Carta?"
"Worse than the Carta. More treacherous, more dangerous."
"Is this guy for real?" Varric muttered. "What's more treacherous than the Carta?"
Larius drew himself up and gathered the scraps of his humanity together to stare down the dwarf. "The Wardens. They listen to Corypheus. You would do well to beware their slippery words."
Hawke heard the noise this time herself, and turned toward it. Larius hobbled off into the shadows as she did so, and as he disappeared a woman in the silver and blue of the Wardens appeared from the darkness. She was speaking to three men who followed her closely, hanging on her every word.
"—the seals are breaking. They have held for thousands of years, but I feel them tremble." The Warden stopped short, staring at the people standing in front of her. "Who are you?"
"Evelyn Hawke. Champion of Kirkwall." She rarely used the title, but she was irritated and tired and didn't think she liked the looks of the woman standing in front of her.
"Hawke?" The Warden's green eyes widened in surprise. "Child of Malcolm Hawke?"
"Yes. What of it?"
"Why are you so interested in our father?" Bethany asked, pushing forward to stand next to Evelyn, who felt a flash of irritation. How was she supposed to protect her sister if she insisted on trumpeting who she was all the time?
"Two children of Malcolm Hawke." The Warden looked at Bethany, her green eyes speculative.
"Exactly who are you?" Evelyn demanded. "And what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question. I am Janeka, Grey Warden, and I have business in this tower."
"I am Hawke, killer of things that threaten my family, and I came here after the crazed Carta dwarves who keep attacking me."
"Ah. Them."
"Yes, them. Know anything about that?"
"No, I don't. I've wondered what happened with them." Janeka's eyes held Hawke's, neither woman willing to look away.
"And what are you doing here? The same thing they are?" Isabela spoke in her usual cool, amused drawl, but there was steel underneath it. Hawke felt a sudden warmth at the support of these people whom she trusted with every fiber of her being. What would life be like without a team you could trust? Unbearable.
Janeka ignored the pirate, keeping her eyes on Hawke. "It is certainly a coincidence to find Malcolm Hawke's daughters here in the tower, but a welcome one."
"What's so special about our father?" Bethany asked.
"Don't you know? He was the one who put these seals in place."
Evelyn frowned. Surely if that were the case, they would know about it. "If that's true, then why didn't he ever say?"
"Grey Warden secrets are to be kept above all things. There would have been consequences had he ever spoken about what occurred here."
Bethany put a hand on Evelyn's arm, speaking slowly. "These seals … they are blood magic. My father was no maleficar."
"Blood was required for the work he did for us."
Evelyn felt her sister's grip on her arm tighten as Bethany fought her emotions. "Why would my father have done blood magic for you?"
"He had his reasons. Didn't he, Larius?" Janeka smirked at the old man, who shied away, one hand coming up to hide his face. "Why don't you ask him, daughters of Malcolm Hawke, what incentive your father had to do blood magic at the Grey Wardens' bidding?"
"What did you do?" Hawke felt anger boiling through her veins, and the oversized sword practically pulsed in her hands. "Tell me, Larius!"
"We told him—we told him … there was a woman waiting for him, a woman with child … We told him …"
"What?" Hawke wasn't aware of having moved, but she found herself standing over him, the sword poised. It wanted to strike, she could feel it. "What did you do to my mother?"
"Nothing! It was not necessary to act. The Hawke, he agreed, he came with us and did as we asked."
"Because you threatened the life of his wife and child."
"Sister." She felt Bethany's small, cool hands close over her own, gently pressing the sword back and away from Larius. "We didn't think Father would have done these things willingly, did we? Of course he was coerced."
Evelyn stared at her sister, feeling the heat of her own anger pounding in her blood. For a moment, Bethany's face seemed unfamiliar and the words wouldn't make sense. She blinked, her vision swimming, and then the world seemed to return to focus, the ferocious hot anger beginning to recede. "You're right. Since Father cooperated on the threat alone, it makes no difference what they would have done. For now," she added, glaring at Larius. She lowered the sword, backing away a few steps.
There was sadness in the blurry brown eyes as Larius looked at her.
Janeka stepped forward. "You must understand why we need your help. You both carry your father's blood—"
"You're not using my blood for anything! Or my sister's, either." Bethany's voice was strong and sharp as she pushed herself in between Evelyn and Janeka.
"Do you not understand what a great opportunity lies before us? Corypheus is unlike any being we have ever encountered! A darkspawn who can think, feel, reason …"
Privately, Evelyn wasn't sure how different that was from Larius, who was standing right in front of them, but Janeka's green eyes were lit with enthusiasm.
"Do not listen to her!" Larius said urgently. "Corypheus calls her—she does his bidding. Her words are his!"
Janeka gave him a withering glance of contempt. "I am in control here, not some talking darkspawn. My magic will bind Corypheus. We can use him to end the Blights. Imagine it! The darkspawn eradicated at last, the Blights forgotten." Her gaze settled on Varric. "The dwarves can regain all of the Deep Roads."
Varric shrugged, but Hawke could see that the words had struck something in him. For all that he pretended to be—and truly was, in many ways—separated from his heritage, the loss of the Deep Roads rankled in him just as it did in any other dwarf. "It seems worth the risk, Hawke. If it works, we get to be the heroes who ended all Blights forever; if it doesn't, we kill him."
"Just what Thedas needs, a darkspawn mage," Fenris muttered. "Hawke, why are we even considering this? Can you truly trust this … mage to be in control of a power we know nothing about?"
Janeka seemed to know it wasn't a good time to talk and wisely didn't, although clearly she was outraged by both Varric's suggestion of killing Corypheus and Fenris's slander of her.
Isabela laughed. "Tear down the walls. Either it works, or we kill him. Either way, it's better than before. And better than wandering around forever in this bloody tower."
"How can you say that?" Bethany asked. "We're talking about blood magic! About trusting someone we've never met to have control over a power we don't understand. Evelyn, you can't even be considering this, are you?" When her sister didn't respond immediately, she asked again, "Are you?"
"No!" Larius said. "Don't listen to her! It was she who sent the Carta after you," he added slyly.
"What does that matter?" Janeka said contemptuously. She looked at Hawke. "You are here because you are needed; we need your help. Corypheus will be the greatest weapon against the Blight there has ever been. Nothing more, nothing less."
Evelyn closed her eyes, thinking of Carver, of Aveline's husband Wesley, of all those she had seen attacked by the darkspawn or wasting away of the taint.
Bethany must have shared her thoughts, because her voice, when she spoke, had a pleading element. "Must you bind him with blood? Is there no other magic you could use instead?"
Janeka's return look was utterly withering. "Everything that has been done to Corypheus has been through the power of blood. There is no power more vital, more visceral. Nothing touches the soul and pulls it to you the way blood does."
"Charming," Fenris said, his sneer evident in his voice. "I thought Merrill was a lost soul, but even she did not speak of blood magic the way this—this mage does, as though it is an intoxicant, grasping at any excuse to perform her heinous rituals."
Hawke could feel Bethany shiver in response to his words and Janeka's. "Sister."
"What other choice is there?" she asked, looking at Bethany and carefully avoiding meeting Fenris's eyes. "We can't trust this … person," she said, waving her hand at Larius. "His brain has to be mush after all that taint has eaten it away. And Janeka is right—we need a powerful weapon against the Blights. Remember Carver, once that ogre had finished with him? Remember Wesley? You think I ever want to have to make the choice Aveline made and give someone I love a merciful death? If this Corypheus can stop the Blights, stop the taint … I say let him go."
"Hawke, no!" Fenris's voice was hoarse, as though the protest had been ripped from his mouth unwillingly. "You cannot be considering this."
Bethany's eyes were wide and shocked, although she didn't plead as openly as the elf did.
Janeka looked triumphant, glancing at Larius with a smug smile on her face.
He drew himself up to his full height, appearing almost human again, and he met the eyes of each of the three Wardens who accompanied Janeka. "I led you once," he said with rusty dignity. "Who do you serve today? The Grey … or Corypheus? You feel him call, I know you do."
They glanced uncomfortably at each other, at Janeka, at Larius, and at Hawke and her companions.
Larius nodded. "To me! We will reach the seal before these people—no one knows this tower better than I." He turned around and ran off surprisingly swiftly. Even more surprisingly, all of the Wardens followed him without hesitation.
"We don't need them. Or him. Come with me, Hawke. We will have no trouble arriving at the seal first." Janeka's eyes glittered, and Hawke wouldn't have wanted to be one of the Wardens when Janeka caught up to them.
She followed the mage, taking the steps two at a time. Varric hurried behind them. Fenris and Bethany brought up the rear far less eagerly, with Isabela walking between them.
"I hope there's some good coin in all this tedious fighting," the pirate said, sighing.
"Coin?" Fenris asked with derision. "Do you think of nothing but coin? Do you think of the danger to all of Thedas if a powerful darkspawn mage is released? Of the perils inherent in following a woman as clearly deranged as this … Janeka? Of Hawke, falling ever more surely under the power of that hideous weapon?" His voice cracked on the last words, and he ducked his head, growling in annoyance at himself before hurrying after Varric.
"He's right," Bethany said softly. "This is all wrong. This Janeka, and the way Evelyn is acting … I don't like it at all."
Isabela looked at the mage, her eyebrows lifting. "You and the elf agreeing on something? Never thought I'd see that day."
Bethany smiled a little. "Me, either."
"If things go … south, you can count on me." The pirate's eyes were unusually sincere, and her hand stole into Bethany's, closing warmly around the mage's cold fingers.
"Can I?" Bethany's eyes met Isabela's directly, and the pirate looked away under the scrutiny.
"I've had your back for a long time. Hers, too."
"Of course you have." The mage let go, and whatever moment might have been between them had passed as she turned and followed the others.
Isabela watched her go for a moment, then shook her head at her own foolishness and brought up the rear. The sooner they got out of this tower, the happier she'd be.
On the other side of the door, a group of heavily armed dwarves awaited them. They rushed to the attack as soon as Hawke and her team appeared, then pulled up short when they recognized Janeka at Hawke's side.
"Janeka? You here—and with the Hawke?" one of them asked. His eyes were that cloudy grey of Corypheus's taint, and he spoke slowly, as though the words were hard to remember.
"Yes, yes," the mage snapped impatiently, waving the dwarves back. She ran toward a bridge across the chasm, stopping only when she saw that a large chunk had fallen from the middle.
"We cannot cross that," Fenris said.
"You think?" Hawke rolled her eyes, ignoring the look of concern he gave at her dismissive tone. She looked at Janeka. "Where do we go from here?"
Varric's eyes narrowed as he stared at Hawke's back. It wasn't like her to ask someone else for advice. He glared at the sword, which was practically pulsing in her hands. If he could take it away from her, fling it into the abyss, far away … but if he did that, this Corypheus would still call. More men like Gerav would die in his service. No, Hawke wouldn't want that, he told himself, pushing his own emotions aside to think about later, in privacy. Or not at all. Not at all would suit him just fine. Anything would be better than running around a lost tower watching Hawke follow someone else.
Janeka was tapping her foot, looking at the Carta dwarves speculatively. "You three," she barked suddenly. "Go find Larius and the others. Kill them if you can. If not … then slow them down. I don't care how you do it."
Bethany felt ill listening to this other mage give orders. She hadn't liked Larius, exactly, but she'd felt he had the right idea where Corypheus was concerned. And she didn't trust Janeka for an instant. There was a light in the mage's eyes that Bethany had seen before—Anders had looked that way occasionally, and Orsino, and everyone knew the ends both of them had come to. She shivered, thinking of them both, of the dangers faced by mages every day. Had their feelings for her distracted the men, causing them to fall prey to temptation when they might not otherwise have done so? She wished she knew. Even if she hadn't played a role in their downfall, however, she had decided once and for all that she was done romancing other mages. If she was ever to fall in love again, it would be with someone … confident. Skilled in practical things. Someone who knew how to live in the world—
Foolish, she told herself. She was the First Enchanter of the Kirkwall Circle of Magi, allowed out for this one task and then immured again deep in the heart of the Gallows. Distrusted by those who had appointed themselves her watchers, feared by the world at large. What need had she of anyone who knew how to live in the world? Bethany's connection to the world had been severed the first time the power had gathered itself in her body. She couldn't allow herself to forget that.