Darkness.

No, light.

"Good morning, dear."

Isabela blinked, she was wrapped in softness, the light pale as it sifted through a not quite closed curtain. Above, a gilded chandelier hung, angular glass glittering like diamonds down on her. Maybe they are diamonds...? She lay in something blue, soft and cool, like the sea was embracing her, welcoming her. I didn't think I'd be met by that...

"Good to finally see you up."

"Am...am I dead?"

"Heaven's no! What kind of question is that!?"

Looking up, Isabela winced, her neck aching like mad. Ah, pain, okay, so alive then...weird. She was surprised at the one facing her, standing just at the foot of the large bed she lay in. "L-Leandra?" The old Hawke was smiling back, though it was a concerned smile. "I'm...in your home?"

"That's right, good to see you have your wits about you. Anders said there'd be a chance you'd be delirious as an after-effect of his poultices." Leandra's smile turned more relaxed, the woman gently sitting down at the foot of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Anders?" Isabela blinked, shaking her head as her hands moved down to the bed, pushing against it so she could sit up. "I-"

Pain!

"Son of a blighted whore's second incestuous cousin!"

Leandra's eyes opened wide.

Isabela, biting her bottom lip, guiltily looked back.

Well that went well.

"Sorry."

"It's quite alright, dearie..." Leandra smiled, though still looked somewhat rattled. "I keep forgetting that my son's friends are an...interesting lot." A deep breath, and the smile turned soft. "You pushed him out of the way, he said."

"Well..I..." Isabela shook her head, frowning. "...don't quite remember..." Doesn't sound like me. The image of the Coterie crossbowmen fluttered before her vision, making her shudder, turning her voice into a soft whisper of a painful memory. "...one death was enough."

"Well, as it happens, I don't agree, I'm heartily sick of death." Leandra smiled, hand moving down to pat Isabela's ankle through the blue velvet cover. "Neither does my son agree, actually...though in the opposite direction." Leandra grimaced. "The Coterie attack upset him, dearie...not sure if it was being so close to death or him feeling insulted – certainly spoke like that was the case – by them trying to kill one of his friends..." A shake of her head. "He's so prideful nowadays."'

"Well...he's got reason to, I suppose." Isabela grunted, finally managing to pull herself up to a sitting position. Slowly, she looked down, hands lifting the cover to check the damage. Wow, that's a lot of bandages...my entire torso? "How did I...?"

"Luck." Leandra sighed. "Garrett had health potions on him, he always does nowadays. Even that didn't do much though, he said, so he rushed you into the sewers." Isabela blinked, making Leandra shrug. "Apparently the Cats have several bases there, plus mages..." A wince. "Maker knows I'd like him to take less risks..." Another pat on Isabela's ankle. "...though I'm glad it helped. Stabilized, you could be brought to Anders...and now you're here."

"How long...?"

"Nearly a week, now."

Shaking her head, perplexed at the sudden gap in her life, Isabela looked around...and blinked when she to her right found Merrill.

With her legs pulled up on the chair she was sitting on and wrapped in a big blanket, the elf looked like a little black-furred rabbit barely showing its head from under a wrap of white fluff. From underneath, a soft muttering was escaping in a steady rhythm, the elf speaking a slurry elven as she slept. Awww...! "She's been here the whole week, or close to it...I'd let her sleep, she's been up too long watching over you."

"Of course she has." Isabela smiled at the tuft of black hair barely showing above the rim of the blanket. You're a good friend, the best friend, one could have. Shaking the annoyingly sappy thought aside, Isabela turned to look about the rest of the room, but to her disappointment, no one else was in the room. Should have known.

Reading her expression, Leandra spoke up. "Aveline comes and goes as well, you know, though she barely has the time, bless that girl." Aveline!? Isabela was surprised...and touched. "She's said she'd like to be here even more, but she's busy cleaning up after Garrett." Isabela blinked at Leandra, making the older woman shrug, a worried look on her face. "Her words, not mine."

"Cleaning up...what?"

Leandra grimaced. "Well...I told you...my son didn't like the Coterie attacking his friend, or putting him in danger like that...though considering how much he's mentioned the rest of the nobility, his motivation for doing what he has might be less about that and more about them."

"Might be?" Isabela echoed, surprised at Leandra's unsure choice of words.

"I...I don't know." Leandra winced and looked away, frowning and biting her bottom lip. "He doesn't tell me much nowadays...I...it's sometimes hard to recognise my son, he's so caught up in being everything else he must be..." A shudder passed through the woman as she took a deep breath. "Though maybe it's for the best, all the things I hear, all the risks he's taking...Maker..." She swallowed, eyes distant. "...I couldn't bear losing another child."

"Well...I can't claim to know the sides of him you know..." Isabela started, feeling awkward at the words of the older woman. Do I look like a shoulder to cry on...? "But I know his capabilities, he's not so easily overcome, and he doesn't take risks without having considered the odds, he's a survivor."

"Many live their entire lives without ever risking themselves...he seems incapable of that." Leandra pointed out with a sigh, but still shot Isabela a smile. "Thanks though."

"So...what's he doing?"

"Fighting the Coterie, silly."

Isabela's eyes bulged. "Is he insane?"

Leandra winced at the words, making Isabela grimace in guilt. Yet the reply was surprising. "Apparently it's going well...between that gang the Cats, Garrett's knowledge of the criminals, his contacts among them and a lot of nobles and their soldiers, he says it's going very well." Leandra shrugged. "He has those Magisters of the city with him all the time now, to pronounce judgements and do trials on the spot. Personally I find it twisting the law a bit too much for my liking, but then again, I've never cared for the Coterie..."

"I can't imagine Aveline likes it that much..."

"She's been remarkably okay with it." Leandra shook her head. "She quotes laws and says every member of the Coterie is a criminal and such...her guardsmen can't really attack areas without permission, but the laws on citizen-arrests in Kirkwall are lax, so..." Bet she likes all those criminals being taken in, and the fact that Garrett's her friend and the one now paying the entire guard might make her receptive to thinking a certain way. Leandra shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I just think that while my son is acting within the laws, it's not within the spirit of the law...having trials and executions on the street sets a horrible precedence."

Isabela, surprised at the words coming from Garrett's own mother, didn't know what to say.

A shake of her head, and Leandra looked away. "Never mind me, I'm just babbling, my time discussing Kirkwall politics was so many years ago, I can hardly remember it...times have clearly changed." Looking back, the old woman feigned a smile. "Anyway, you're up, and I've already sent for Anders to have a look at you...you were quite lucky, you know? Anders says you were worse than...Garrett after the Arishok."

"Is that possible without dying? Because damn, he was..." Isabela asked, and instantly regretted herself at the way Leandra paled. Foot, meet mouth...again. "...erm...I mean...what was so bad?"

After a deep breath, Leandra managed a smile. "Anders can tell you in more details, but the arrow in your chest grazed your heart." Ouch. "And the one close to your neck shattered the collar-bone, a piece which nearly severed the artery bringing blood to your head...I can tell you, Anders had a hell of a time putting that bone together, so you better thank him, young lady." Heh, lady Isabela... The pirate smiled nervously, idea of something sharp pressing against her heart making her chest feel tight. "As for the one in your stomach...that one nearly killed you."

"Tell me it didn't wreck my liver..." Isabela shuddered in terror, the thought of not drinking horrifying.

"What?" Leandra blinked, then chuckled at Isabela's expression. "No, no you can still drink, silly, although you really ought to cut down." Isabela rolled her eyes. Yes, mom. "It hit the intestines, Anders used a lot of poultices to deal with that..." Leandra smiled and shook her head. "I'm amazed he had that much, but you're lucky he did."

"Yeah..." Isabela smiled and yawned, suddenly dizzy. Castillon is still out there, but...yeah, lucky, I'm very lucky.

"Oh dear, is the medicine taking effect again? I'll see if I can't..." Leandra's voice turned into a buzz.

"...I'm so lucky."

Sleep caught her.

8

8

8

"No! No please! Nooo!"

Carver rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. It's isolation, not torture, whiner. Standing in an alcove overlooking the lower levels of the circle tower, Carver felt powerful. The responsibility of taming the less submissive apostates was a heavy one, though it didn't require much work since the templar veterans already knew how to put the apostates in their place. Still, I'm going to take it seriously and be here for when a call is needed...the whiner, for instance, isn't too important, but the information he refuses to give...I should speak to Meredith about it.

Below, the long hall was lined with statues of Andraste and iron gates covered in ancient runes that glowed whenever some mage nearby tried to use magic...which was proving quite useful for dishing out punishment, since magic was strictly forbidden on the current level.

Carver had heard the whispers, some mages called it the 'torture halls', some templars 'the sweatshop'. There was no torture though, nor did Carver consider doing your duty in a more hands-on approach to be a hard job. It was a duty, and a good one. As such, Meredith calling it the 'hall of conversion' was as apt as any name. "Cullen, what's on your mind?"

The other templar in the alcove sighed, the man having remained silent for the last ten minutes. "There's a lot of them, huh?" Carver frowned, not sure he understood the dejected tone of the man. Cullen was a dedicated templar, that was true, and one believing in the ideals of the Circle...yet at the same time, he sometimes acted as if he pitied the mages, as if being in the Circle was somehow something negative. He thinks too much.

"And there'll be more of them, the city is swarming with apostates, not just from the city itself, but immigrants as well, somehow thinking Kirkwall to be a safe haven for them, despite our Order." I should know... Carver grit his teeth, it wasn't often he thought of Bethany, despite his surroundings, but whenever he did, it was a bitter and angering thought. You should be here, with me. Instead you were stolen from me...

"Of course, I'm just worrying, I suppose..." Cullen muttered, the older templar moving closer to look over the hall, watching the many templars escort or drag, depending on the reluctance of the mage, their charges to their cells or studies. "The numbers of newly-made Circle mages is growing very fast, they're not getting time to adjust and be surrounded by their peers...I fear it might make for a volatile situation."

Carver frowned in confusion. "Hence us putting them all here...? These aren't Circle mages Cullen, not yet, we need to...break them in, as Meredith said." The older templar cringed at the words, but Carver ignored the show of disrespect with a frown. "So we keep them here until they learn to respect the templars and to submit to our will. Once they've learnt to behave themselves, we'll let them up another level, then another...and so on, they'll become good Circle mages in the end, I'm sure."

"Well that's the thing, we're keeping them all together, they're not meeting any Circle mages, only other apostates, they're only shown punishments, no real rewards..." Cullen shrugged. "I'm just afraid we're teaching a horde of mages not just to fear us, but to hate us too." Carver arched an eyebrow at Cullen, unimpressed. We're trained specifically to fight mages, why should we fear that? The templar shot an irritated glance back. "And don't give me that look, I'm merely saying that we ought to use a bit more carrot, and a little less stick."

"Well you're always 'merely saying'." Carver turned to glare at the other templar. "I know you technically outrank me, but I must say it's bloody annoying hearing you criticise Meredith's every decision and order."

Cullen took a step back, but didn't look away as he steadily met Carver's gaze. "Well I'm sorry, but we can't all agree with her every word." A shake of his head. "Meredith is not the Order, Carver, you don't have to agree with everything she says."

Carver felt his face redden as he took a step closer. "If you're saying that I'm some sort of doormat that does everything he-" He growled. "she says, you're dead wrong!" He tapped his breastplate. "But we're templars, and she's within her full rights to expect obedience as all she's done is carry out her duty as-"

"That's enough." Cullen went rigid, chin held high...and after a moment of glaring at the man, so did Carver. Their eyes moved to the side, to the owner of the new voice stepping towards their alcove. Meredith's face was calm, in control, a leader's. "I will not have my two best men at each other's throat." Best...? Carver straightened a little more, making Cullen shoot him a glance that he glared away.

"Carver." The man swallowed, but met Meredith's gaze head on, lighting a flicker of approval in her blue eyes even before she spoke. "While I appreciate your zeal, I promoted Cullen fully knowing who he was. I value his council and his intelligence, and while I find him too lenient, such advice opens up the possibility of finding new solutions to problems."

"Cullen." Meredith turned her gaze to Cullen, who met it, though with more reluctance, shoulders slumped. "Carver's loyalty to our cause is not something to be questioned, but celebrated. And while, yes, I value your council, your doubts are not appreciated." The woman narrowed her eyes. "For doubt leads to desire, which leads to corruption, as I've told you many times."

"Perhaps, but with a modicum of-"

"Enough." Meredith shook her head, silencing the Knight-Captain. "These are the facts, I will not have either of you question them." A shrug, and she turned her gaze to Carver. "Now, what is it? You asked for me and I'm short on time, a whole sect of apostates is holed up in Darktown and though surrounded, I need to be there and oversee the final attack."

"A whole sect?" Carver blinked. Will be a big fight... "Commander, I volunteer to accompany you."

"Thought you'd say that." Meredith smiled. "Granted, your teachers keep saying you need more hands-on training, after all. Cullen will oversee your duties until you're back." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Now, what about you asking for me?"

"Serah, it's about one of our last catches, a mage named...Nowen?" Carver frowned. Names are getting stupider all the time, it seems... "It's well-known that he's one of this Warden-Mage's agents, I'd like us to more...thoroughly question him."

"We're not torturing anyone."

Carver shot Cullen a glare, finding the other templar having crossed his arms over his chest, glaring back. Growling, Carver shook his head. "Did I say torture?" He shot Meredith a look. "Though...scaring him and slapping him around a bit ought to help, he doesn't seem as tough as the other agents we've captured."

Cullen moved to speak, but Meredith was quicker. "I...appreciate that, Carver, but Cullen is right, a surrendered mage is not someone we can go out of our way to harm unless he actively resists us or work against us."

"We've caught three of his 'captured' agents already trying to undermine us from within!" Carver gasped, surprised at Meredith's reply.

"And those were punished." Meredith scowled back. "I do not hand out punishments on the mages without cause, despite whatever Orsino or that Warden may claim. Now, if you have proof he's trying to work against us even now, however..."

I don't. Growling, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Meredith, we know he holds important information, and he's very likely going to work against us! Why wait until he strikes!?"

"Because it's not right." Cullen grunted, shaking his head. "We templars are just in our treatment of mages, their guardians, not their jailors. It's how we've managed to contain so many for so many years and why families are still willing to give up their children to us, knowing we'll provide a home for their offspring, as well as keeping the rest of the world safe from them."

Meredith was nodding in agreement, making Carver grimace in desperation as he leant even closer. "Remember what you've taught me, Commander. This is more than just one mage, this is about this war with them. A leader must make hard decisions at times, sacrifices, but all for the greater good...how many more mages will this Warden corrupt? How many more deaths will be on our hands because we didn't catch him or his wayward apostates in time?" He leant even closer, watching Meredith's eyes cloud in thought. "You say we take no risks, but how long can we risk that man and his disciples being free, ready to unleash Maker knows what when one of them stray too far down the path of dark magics...?"

Silence.

Then Meredith begun to slowly nod. "You are...wise, Carver." Cullen gasped, about to speak up, but Meredith was faster yet again. "I will...think on this, yes. Thank you." Pleased, Carver took a step back. "If only your brother would be as wise, I'd have less of a headache."

"My brother?" Carver tensed. Maker, must we speak of him...?

Cullen took a step closer to the two, smiling uncertainly. "Commander, I'm not sure we need to-"

Meredith ignored the man, eyes on her other Captain. "Yes, seems he's had the other nobles choose him as 'their' Viscount...a play on words to bypass my ban, and a clear sign of what he's aiming for. Worst of all, it undermines my position as people wonder how much control I truly exert on the city...the nobles are making our job more difficult with this, people in the streets are more defiant than they have any right to be against templars performing their duty."

"Commander, while that might contribute, perhaps the cause for this resistance has to do with-"

This time, Carver was the one interrupting Cullen. "V-Viscount?" That's just...too much, Garrett, is your ambition never sated? "Can a Champion..." Maker, I hate that title. "...even be a Viscount?"

"There's a few instances of it happening, and no law forbidding it." Meredith shrugged, a calm smile on her lips. "Maker knows how he convinced the nobles though, after all, beyond the Chantry, racism against elves is prevalent and considering the man not only has one as a lover..." I know, I know, don't remind me... Carver found his hands curling into fists at the hypocrisy of his brother, of him and her together in a way he had no right to. "...but now has her as a fiancée..." What?! "...I thought the nobles would be more concerned about who's ruling the city. An elf as the 'first lady' is not something they'd desire."

"I'm...sorry." Carver shook his head, blinking. "D-did you say he's going to marry her?"

"Commander, I-"

Again, Cullen was cut off, Meredith's smile cool and slightly confused. "Of course...didn't you get an invitation?"

Carver's reply was a tightening of his fist, the metal in his gauntlet groaning.

"Ah, shame, I'm sorry." Meredith sighed. "Families are a...difficult thing at times, especially for people such as us. Now, if-"

"I believe Garrett might be working with the Warden-Mage."

Silence.

Meredith looking at Carver, not with surprise, nor pleasure, just a steady gaze.

Cullen staring at him as if he was a madman.

Carver staring back, unable to believe what he'd just said.

"I'm sorry, care to repeat that...?" Meredith finally asked, something strange in her voice. "I've...suspected things, but if you have proof...?"

"I...no, Commander...I...forgive me, I'm not sure why..." Carver swallowed, closing his eyes to steady his suddenly racing heart.

Instead, it raced even further as in his mind he saw Merrill twined around Garrett, naked, gasping, moaning-

No! Carver opened his eyes, the steel within them making Cullen take a step back even as Meredith steadily met her Captain's gaze. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any proof of this..."

Meredith sighed, looking frustrated. "Then I can't really-"

"...but I know it to be true and I will find you proof."

"Well..." Meredith smiled, a cool yet pleased smirk. "...seems you have a new assignment, Captain."

"I will not fail you."

Maker, what am I doing...?

8

8

8

Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for her commitment.