Sitting in his office, elbows on his desk and fingers interlocked in front of his face, Garrett scowled in disapproval and anger. The room was tidy, and spacious, despite the bookshelves lining the walls straining to contain the many scrolls, books and ledgers that Garrett had been forced to use in administrating the entire city from his home.

It wasn't hard for Garrett to sum up the anger. Sure, the aim of his gaze had caused some, but the meeting with Cullen a week ago still burnt within him like an open wound. No...she couldn't let go of the power, she couldn't let me become Viscount, she's 'sorry'...Cullen, you are a poor liar. It was frustrating enough that Garrett had headed into a guest-room and thrashed the place, something a controlled man like him would never do normally, but his frustration had grown to the point of no return and had simply bubbled over. How far must I strong-arm Meredith to get what I want!? It's bad enough that she's causing riots in the city with her templars kicking a people already down on their luck, must I add to it by raising food-prices or something!? Must I burn her bloody keep down to make her understand!? Damn fool...I should steal all the Circle mages, put them on a boat and have her chase after, then close the bloody docks!

Garrett's scowl turned into a glare.

Under the glare, the one before him simply put her arms in front of her chest and tilted her hips, lips pouting. On any other woman it would have looked seductive, for Isabela seductive was such second nature that it was simply a natural move of hers. Isabela arched an eyebrow. "Yes? What? You going to burn a hole through my chest if you keep glaring like that."

Garrett, all too accustomed to Isabela's ways, sighed, not about to take the bait as he shook his head. "So how many times is it now? Ten? Ten times in a month. Donnic has better things to do than to arrest you and bring you to me...in fact, what he should be doing is throwing you in jail. I'm surprised he hasn't already."

"I was his wife's best friend." Isabela unapologetically replied, something sharp in her tone.

Garrett frowned, then growled back. "Ten arrests in a month, petty thievery at that, why?"

"Hey, at least it wasn't the thirty times it should be, eh?" Isabela shrugged and looked away, the smile on her lips never quite reaching her eyes.

"Isabela..." Garrett groaned, hands hitting the desk with a weary thump. "You can't keep doing this, if you need money-"

"I don't."

"Then why-"

"Why not?"

"Isabela!" Garrett snapped, his blood rising at the woman's tone. "This is no joke! This is a serious matter and I will not have you sweep it aside like nothing!"

"Oh?" Still, the pirate refused to look at him, brow furrowing in anger. "Why not? You sure seem able to."

Garrett blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Isabela turned her head around, glaring at him. "Aveline's dead, murdered."

Garrett grimaced, a jolt of pain in his heart at the mention of the woman who's loss he was so desperately trying not to think about. "Yes, and it's horrible-"

"Then why aren't you doing anything!?" Isabela took a step forward, hands reaching out in front of her in pleading gesture. "Gather up the team, ride out and find the son of a bitch who did this!"

Garrett sighed, rubbing his forehead. So this is what it's about. "Isabela, I know you're upset about this, we all are-"

"Bullshit." Isabela growled, glaring at him.

Garrett frowned, the accusation making his already smouldering temper flare up further. He bit down on it though, taking a deep breath as he continued. "...but you can't lash out like this because of her, she wouldn't have wanted that, would she?" To his relief, Isabela looked a little ashamed at his question, making him continue. "Now, as you know, Donnic is investigating the issue, and when-"

"Donnic!?" Again, Isabela interrupted Garrett, this time with a bitter laugh that swiftly got replaced by a tired look, her shoulders slumping as she looked at Garrett, shaking her head. "Donnic's a good guy, Garrett, and he's a good guard, but..." Her shoulders somehow slumped even more. "...he's not you. You know it, I know it...you'd get this done, not because you're more driven than him,or a better guard, but because you're...you." She made a gesture at the room around them. "You're a league above him."

Garrett opened his mouth to protest, but Isabela was faster, the woman suddenly turning to pace along his office like he usually did when confounded by a problem. Though unlike him when he paced, she held her head high, face twisted into an angry grimace. "And why aren't you doing that!? I...it wasn't so long before when you would have gathered up the gang and given us no rest until the killer was found! We would have turned every stone and questioned every sod with even a rumour of a guess!" She whirled to face Garrett, chest heaving with angry breaths. "And now you do nothing! You don't even care!"

Garrett was suddenly standing up. He didn't raise his voice, but his tone was cold. "Don't say that."

Isabela hesitated, then looked away. "Sorry." The word was muttered, and had barely passed her lips before she glared at him again. "But that doesn't change that you and I both know that you could do way more." She paused, letting the words sink in before she continued. "Deny it, I dare you."

I've done lots, without me, Donnic wouldn't have the resources to hunt the killer. Without me, there wouldn't be a guard. Without me, Aveline's death wouldn't even be investigated. Garrett pressed his lips together into a thin line, glaring at the pirate. I...damn it.

Isabela didn't look smug, instead she leant forward, placing her hands on his desk with a sigh, weary eyes watching him. "Exactly." For a long moment, she simply held his gaze, then she looked away, shaking her head. "What happened, Garrett? Back in the old days, I might have found your loyalty to your companions and friends as somewhat...overzealous...but now...it's what got me to come back to you back when the Qunari did their thing. You...and the others...made me care. And now you don't?" She stared at the table, frowning. "It's not right, it's not you...what changed? Why is all this other crap so much more important all of a sudden? I find you here, doing paperwork while Aveline lies in an urn..."

"Crap?" Garrett echoed, staring at the pirate in shock, then, slowly, he blinked. "Crap?" He slowly sat back into his chair, still staring at her as he slowly cocked his head to his side. "Do you understand what I'm doing here...?"

Isabela bit her bottom lip, staring at him, clearly wanting to scream at him, but his question just managed to make her hold her tongue.

Garrett picked a letter at random, holding it up without a need to read the content again. "This is from a minor noble requesting to be allowed to stop selling his grain so cheaply to the masses, because it's impoverishing him. If I agree, more will ask for it, if I don't, he will be impoverished and other nobles will begin to doubt my ability to lead them. If I pay him the difference, more will ask for such aid, and I will be unable to afford that." He let the words linger, even knowing what he'd do. I'll pay him under the table using the Cats, he'll be even more in my pocket, grateful and the crisis will be averted. "If this gets out of hand, ten thousand people, those still eking out a living after the Qunari battle, will starve."

Isabela moved to reply, but Garrett was quicker.

"This letter is from the Prince of Starkhaven, short and to the point...fuming, one might say." Garrett sighed. "He's informing us that he will no longer allow his merchants to do business with Kirkwall after the rough treatment of his merchants by the templars searching them, what tipped the scales was when his sister was practically molested by a templar when coming here on pilgrimage to the Chantry." He threw the paper aside in rage, the idea of how much Meredith was working against him and all he stood for driving him mad. "That would not only decrease local trade, but practically kill our trade with Ferelden, shattering the barely standing economy I keep running here." I must apologise ten thousand times over, pour vitriol against the templars and rain gifts upon the prince and more importantly his sister...eugh, it'll be expensive.

Again, Isabela tried to get a word in, and again, Garrett raised a new letter.

"This is a request from a local citizen, asking my aid with a runaway mage performing blood magic on local people in the neighborhood to train himself against the templars. The man fears letting Meredith know in case she decides to 'purge' the entire street, and so he comes to me. Should I do something, Meredith will come down on me like a hammer, if I don't, a killer mage runs loose on my streets and the people will hate me for it." He'll die quietly, and I'll owe Varric another favour. Garrett, tossing the letter aside, spread his arms wide. "This is not crap, this is me being stuck between a rock and hard place, over and over again. And by doing so, by placing myself there, I'm protecting and serving the lives of a million souls." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Aveline would have approved about my priorities. I aid the many, keep thousands fed, that is what I do."

Isabela regarded him with a pained expression on her face, seemingly struggling with herself. Then, she cocked her head to the side and looked away. "Yes, yes she would..." She looked back at him, shaking her head. "But she would've approved from a different motivation than yours." She winced at her own words even as Garrett coolly looked back. "You're not doing this for the people, don't put yourself on a high horse, I know you well enough, I know why you do all this..."

Garrett glared at her, his words curt. "I do this for all of us, and I will not have you question me when I do what must be done."

"Yeah..." Isabela bit her bottom lip and suddenly turned away, hands coming up to rub her shoulders as she began walking for the door. "...nice to know you have something in common with Meredith."

Garrett opened his mouth, but no words reached his lips, the pirate having left him speechless. She didn't revel in it though, instead she simply opened the door and walked out of the room, not looking back.

Slowly, Garrett leant back in his chair, gripping the armrests tightly in barely-contained fury. Comparing me to Meredith? The nerve! That woman is the most pig-headed fool I've ever met, she'll destroy this city as surely as any Qunari invasion. Still, she refuses me what's rightfully mine, still, she holds back the city and all who depend on me. Still, she's doing more harm to Kirkwall than a hundred apostates. Meredith's the problem, not I, I won't be second-guessed by some pirate with no idea of the level of commitment and work required to do what I do.

She doesn't understand.

A light tap on the door-frame made Garrett look up. In the doorway, Merrill, dressed in a pale white dress, shirked away at whatever was in his eyes, but then offered a gentle smile as Garrett's anger subsided.

It was strange, looking at Merrill. They had lived through so much together now, had had violent ups and downs, seen each other at their worst and best, been at each other's throats...it was a miracle they were both there, even more so that they were still together. Sometimes Garrett wondered why he didn't hate her, why he wasn't too exhausted to care, or why he hadn't just cut his losses and let her go.

Instead, he found nothing but a tentative and gentle love, a new sprout, growing from beneath the stem of what had been destroyed in the firestorm the two had unleashed upon one another.

So Garrett smiled back. "Merrill, love, I'm glad to see you." He rose from his seat even as she stepped into the office. "Feels like we haven't had a moment in days."

"We haven't." Merrill smiled uncertainly, looking up at him as he stepped closer, arms across her chest, as if she was cold. Garrett, stepping close, leant down and softly kissed her, feeling the need for care. "You have your work and I've been...tired."

"Yes, I know..." Garrett sighed, leaning low to catch her eyes, finding the large expressive orbs nervous and tired. "...are you coming down with something again? I...ever since that dragon you've not quite been...as strong as one would expect. What's the matter? I know that you...you know...but you told me you didn't take any offer or such...?" Did you lie again? The question was unspoken, yet Garrett still regretted it before he even spoke.

Merrill only smiled though, unwilling to take offense as she looked up at him. "No, I didn't. I just..." She swallowed. "...husband, c-could we..." Garrett blinked, Merrill never called him husband, she had a hundred names for him, it felt like, but never husband. "...maybe get out of Kirkwall for a year or so? Take some time off on one of the estates in the countryside?"

Garrett blinked once more, of all requests and questions, he had not expected that. "What? Merrill, we can't really do that, you know the work I do and how important that is."

"I do but...it wouldn't be too bad, would it? A little delay, maybe, but hardly the end of Kirkwall, right?" Merrill replied, offering those big green eyes Garrett both loved and hated at the same time.

Struggling against the look, Garrett breathed out through the nose. "And what of the others? Our friends are here."

"They can come and visit, it'll be nice, you'll see." Merrill answered, smiling a little too broadly.

"Well...we could just as easily go out onto the estates outside whenever we wanted with our friends and..." Garrett shook his head, confused. "Merrill, what's going on? Why this sudden want to leave Kirkwall? And for a year?"

"I...well...it's just..." Merrill bit her lower lip, staring at him with big eyes.

Garrett, sighing, shrugged in impatience. "Yes...?"

Merrill, swallowing, grabbed his left wrist and brought it up, placing his hand across her stomach.

Garrett, confused, feeling nothing but a slim belly under the satin cloth of her dress, arched an eyebrow at Merrill. I don't get it, why is she...? The eyebrow was slowly lowered, his body going cold, as if his spirit had just left it and watched from somewhere above. His lips, suddenly dry, barely managed to move. "You...?"

Merrill, blinking away at tears suddenly prickling her eyes, nodded, her voice a tiny whisper. "I...yes..."

Garrett felt like someone had just taken his brain away and thrown it into the sea, then stopped his heart for good measure. Behind him, the desk creaked as he sat down on it, not quite sure when his knees had stopped supporting his weight. His eyes, unblinking, stared at Merrill, not really seeing anything. I'm...I'm going to be...?

Merrill, uncertain, whimpered. "S-so I th-thought that maybe some fresh air would be good, and, yo-you know, I do-don't like a-all the stu-stuff happening here, I'd...I'd like to be safe and keep him or her safe wi-with me. A-and I understand th-that yo-you have responsibilities b-but I'd h-hoped that you'd come with us." She swallowed, looking frightened to her very core. "I...I really need you right now, need you to stay close."

Garrett, overcome, not sure what he was doing, slipped off the desk and onto his knees, arms snaking around Merrill's waist, pulling her closer.

Merrill, falling silent, let a hand slide through his hair as he felt her tremble in his hands.

Slowly, like in a dream, he kissed the satin covering Merrill's belly, tears he hadn't felt staining the cloth even as he pressed his face into her, shaking with a feeling he couldn't put a name on.

Above him, Merrill's voice was but a whisper. "H-husband...? About going out of the city...?"

Garrett made the tiniest of frowns at the thought, but it evaporated a second later as the strange bubbling feeling within him overcame all else. "We'll talk about that later, right now, let me just..." He gave voice to a small laugh, the sound escaping him without warning before he placed another kiss on Merrill's belly.

The hand in his hair caressed him, relieved. "Okay, love you..."

"Love you too."

8

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8

The smell of decay filled Anders' nostrils, the blood lotus was famous for it, the otherwise pretty flower signalling an end to all through its scent.

Especially when ground down to a fine dust, mixed with the blood of a dragon at near boiling temperature.

Anders, sweating heavily under his robe, watched the mixture carefully. He was at a critical stage, one wrong move and the mixture before him would either be rendered useless...or it would send a fire-storm throughout his clinic large enough to kill thousands of people. Yet there was no hesitation, his nervousness not showing in his hands as he brought the spirit shard forth, his finely-honed dagger making an incision along the pale blue crystal's length before, without hesitation, putting it into the cauldron.

For but a moment, Anders stiffened.

No rush of fire appeared though, no dark oblivion and a release of the growling Justice. Instead, the mixture simply puttered, seemingly harmless.

Behind the closed door to his office, an infant screamed, then fell silent as the waiting mother brought what milk there was.

Anders, knowing he was preciously low on time, continued. One hand scooped up the fire-crystals, cut into tiny little pearls, and held them over the cauldron as the other hand aimed low, a focal as he summoned the fade energies to pick up the chill in the air far above, the cold of earth and water...

With a little clatter, the first fire crystal was dropped into the cauldron even as the fire beneath died down under the gentle spray of ice shooting from Anders' fingertips. Then another crystal landed into the cauldron, followed by a third, then a fourth...slowly, they were all poured into the mixture, each crystal causing a small swelling of bubbles into the mix before the chill contained the energies wanting to be unleashed.

Now, it must harden, I'll wait three days, then the final ingredients will enter the mix and the work will be complete. Anders smiled, a smile of satisfaction, of relief, of knowing what would come next. Soon, Justice, soon... There was a growl within him, like a wolf's. I know, I know, we've waited so long...just a bit longer though, just a little longer and we'll have justice for all mages.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, making Anders whirl about, ready to conceal his works or to fight, whatever the need may be.

The man holding the door open was all grins though, his pale face alight with excitement, his gaze fixed on Anders and lost to all else. "The fever's breaking! My little girl will be okay!"

Anders offered a gentle smile. "I told you, a few days and she'll be as good as new."

The man, shaking his head, grinned even wider. "I cannot...thank you enough! It's...a miracle is what it is!" He wiped away a tear trickling down his cheek. "I'll offer you a prayer every night at the Chantry from now on, Maker bless you!"

Anders offered a curt smile at that. "Oh that's hardly necessary..."

"But it is, Serah, it is!" The man nodded furiously, still grinning. "If you ever need me, you can find me in the Chantry in the evenings, praying for the good Warden who saved my little one!"

Anders, knowing his every protest would go unheeded, and that any warning might ruin everything they'd worked for, nodded. "Very well, as you will, then."

The man before him simply grinned, then rushed off, no doubt to hug his little daughter harder than she'd ever been hugged before.

With the man gone,Anders' face turned back into a stony mask, the smile dying. That isn't right...

In the back of his mind, Justice growled in agreement, a painful sound as the spirit felt compelled to hurt Anders, despite their merging.

But necessary, friend, if we are to do all the good we must do. Justice remained silent, but Anders knew it agreed, maybe the thought had even been Justice's...it was sometimes hard to tell. Every dead man, woman and child will be a martyr for our cause, a red flag of war, a war that'll liberate our enslaved people...it'll be hard, painful, so many injustices will be done...but the result..the result will make it all worth it.

Anders walked to the still open doorway, gaze moving to look at the man hugging his little daughter as she laughed at his silliness. She will likely lose a father. Again, the pain that by now was a second skin, wormed through Anders' flesh at the injustice it would be.

But she will gain a new world.

Smiling, Anders closed the door.

8

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8

Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for being there during the difficult times.