Brehan started towards the room that held the prisoner. He was halfway down the hall before he turned to find Salla a couple paces behind him, and Tisallan a pace behind her. He shook his head, and looked at Salla. "Where do you think you are going?"

"To question the prisoner."

He stared at her. "Exactly why do you think you get to come do that?"

"My team caught him." She folded her arms.

"You do realize I'm the professional here."

"My team caught you too." She smiled.

"I am not going to argue with you."

"Good." She walked past him and continued down the hall, Tisallan at her heels.

A low growl escaped him as he started after them. He quickened his pace to reach the door before Salla, and blocked her path. "Have you ever handled an interrogation before?"

"I interrogated Melavan."

"That..." Brehan shook his head. "Was not an interrogation." He glanced at Tisallan.

Tisallan shrugged. "I could make a case in either direction."

"It starts to be a problem, you leave." Brehan narrowed his eyes at Salla. He opened the door and stepped inside, followed by the other two. Tisallan took a position leaning beside the door. The prisoner immediately sent a glare at him before looking back to Brehan and sneering. Brehan folded his arms. "Bahalan."

"Is it time for yet another round of you asking me questions I have no intention of answering?" Bahalan leaned back in the chair he had been tied to. "You do realize you won't be permitted to keep me much longer."

"We have one of The Warden's eluvians." Salla smiled. "I admit to being slightly curious as to where exactly Urthemiel can send you."

If he wasn't mistaken, the prisoner actually flinched slightly at the threat. Maybe letting her in hadn't been a terrible idea. Bahalan glared at her. "I'm supposed to fear a little shemlen pretending to be a..." There was a slight hesitation when his eyes caught the staff Salla wore on her back. "Mage? I know what real magic looks like."

"Where is Fen'Harel now?" Brehan moved to stand just out of the prisoner's line of sight, forcing the man to be able to look at only one of them at a time.

"It is not as if you would even be able to comprehend the answer to that question." Bahalan smirked.

"Which probably means he is in Revasylan." Tisallan twitched a shoulder. "I believe that area is within the forest you call the Donarks on your maps."

Bahalan twisted towards him and spat a curse. "You side with these banal'vhen over your own people?"

"Be more polite when speaking of my great great grandson." The corner of Tisallan's mouth lifted slightly.

He fought the urge to snicker at the confused look on Bahalan's face. "Can you get us to Revasylan?" Brehan raised an eyebrow at Tisallan.

"He would not leave those eluvians undefended, and I doubt the path have grown less dangerous with time." Tisallan shook his head.

Brehan leaned on the wall, and looked over Bahalan's head at Tisallan. "What do you think the Dread Wolf will do?"

"Some things must be preserved if he is to accomplish his goal. No doubt, he seeks to bring those things into his power and ensure they survive the chaos that will ensue with the destruction of the Veil." Tisallan furrowed his brow. "There will also need to be places of safety for his people, where he can be reasonably assured of their survival. Though he will sacrifice them if he must."

"He will not turn on us."

"And how is Felassan these days?" Tisallan raised an eyebrow at Bahalan before turning his eyes back to Brehan. "He seeks out the old places, searching for what will give him the best chance of success, both in the destruction of the Veil and the battle that will come after." Tisallan frowned. "Which is undoubtedly why he does not challenge The Warden."

"Explain that?" Brehan raised an eyebrow.

"The destruction of the Veil will free the Evanuris. I doubt long years of captivity have improved their disposition. Fen'Harel will need his help to defeat them, and The Warden will have little choice but to give it, if he wishes to protect any part of the world."

"Why oppose him?" Bahalan glanced at Tisallan before turning back to Brehan. "You Dalish claim you wish to preserve the past. What is that oath of yours? Never submit. And here you are, bending knee to shemlen. Why would you side with them? How can you oppose him? Don't you understand what he is trying to do? He would restore Arlathan."

"Fuck Arlathan." Tisallan's voice was angry. Brehan and Salla both blinked as they turned their eyes towards him. "I almost understand why some of the Dalish have chosen to follow. They cling to the faded memory of a dream that never was, but you and I, Bahalan. We were there. We know better. There's your answer." He shook his head, and laughed bitterly. "Fuck Arlathan. I want a better world."

Silence descended on the room. For just a moment, Brehan dared to hope. And then Bahalan shook his head. "I will not turn on him."

"I believe you." Tisallan shook his head. He looked up at Brehan. "And he wouldn't trust a fool like this with anything useful anyway."

#

Gavren lay back on the pallet, staring up at the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths, and then willed himself asleep and across the Veil. The city spread out before him, shifting and changing as it reflected different periods of time. Shadows and images danced across the ages as memories echoed. Carefully, he began to search.

"Calling spirits here can be dangerous." A voice spoke from behind him.

"Too many here have been abused." Gavren turned towards the speaker.

Solas nodded. "I thought I might find you here. You have acquired one of my agents."

"He is unharmed." Gavren shrugged. "A bit annoyed, but unharmed."

"I would like him released."

"I would like not to be followed." Gavren smiled.

"A reasonable request, though one I cannot grant." Solas spread his hands. Then he sighed. "My agents recovered Alai's body."

"Thank you." Gavren nodded, and blinked tears away from his eyes. "We were concerned when we did not find her." Kieran had been certain she was dead, but part of him felt like that last little hope had been crushed. "Melavan will be relieved."

"I can only hope you have learned from this, and reconsidered my offer to return you to Kirkwall." Solas shook his head. "Da'len, whatever is to come your mother is important to me and I will not have her grieve your loss. If I must use force to see you safely from this place that is exactly what I will do."

"And there it is, hahren." Gavren smiled. "That part of you that lets us still have hope." He shook his head. "What does the Formless One want with Duncan and I?"

"As formidable as high dragons are, the great dragons are another manner of beast altogether. And we are in a land that once worshiped dragons as gods." Solas gestured at the city. "He would covet such a creature, as either weapon or host."

"Some have woken, or will, years yet from now. One kills Rainier. He killed it back."

A small smile came to Solas's face as he acknowledged Gavren's words. "It would take a great dragon." He nodded. "Calenhad's bloodline carries the blood of the dragons. Any of the bloodline can wake them."

"Then why specifically Duncan?" Gavren frowned. "I've met his sister. He is not the most dangerous Therin, and one of the twins is a mage."

"But Duncan is the one completely immune to the Blight."

"Well..." Gavren blinked. "That's something. Why?"

"I do not know. I suspect it has to do with the magic that was used to ensure his birth."

"The Formless One's interest in Kieran is obvious." He met Solas's eyes. "Why me?"

"I imagine his interest bears some similarity to mine." Solas gave him an appraising look. "Your mother said I come to Skyhold to save you, but you have made it clear I put considerable effort into educating you. Your potential is..." He shrugged. "Astonishing." He clasped his hands behind his back. "It is conjecture only, but I believe he would desire you as his host."

"Not a comforting thought."

"And all the more reason you should be safely away from him. Go back to Kirkwall, da'len."

"Are you forgetting they already got to us in Kirkwall?" Gavren shook his head. "That's what started this in motion."

Solas sighed, and then nodded. "Then I will make you an offer. You and Duncan come with me. I will protect the two of you until our allies have dealt with the Formless One. Once that is done, I will return you both safely to your respective families."

"I will take your offer to Duncan." Gavren sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the others would have a better chance of acquiring the staff if they were able to draw Solas away from the field. "Thank you, Solas."

"Tell..." Solas sighed. "It does not matter. He would not listen. I expect my agent to be released by morning. Wake, da'len."

#

"I'm immune to the Blight?" Duncan raised an eyebrow.

"He's immune to the Blight?" Alistair turned to Lenore.

"As unintended side effects of experimental magic, that's a pretty good one." Lenore smiled. "I'm awesome."

"Why is no one else concerned that the Dread Wolf keeps dropping in on Gavren?" Trian asked.

"Gavren's kind of used to it." Leandra shrugged, and seated herself in Gavren's lap.

"I can't deny it's a good trait to have, but why would the Formless One care?" Duncan raised an eyebrow, then frowned when he saw Carver and Kieran exchange a look with each other. "Kieran?"

"Many of my father's abilities are drawn from his connection to the Blight." Kieran's eyes narrowed. "And Father would do everything he could to avoid having to harm the son of two of his friends."

"He wants Duncan so he can make a run on The Warden." Cullen leaned back in his chair. His eyes were stone. "And he intends to use my son as his host when he does so."

"I wish to set him on fire." Lenore folded her arms.

"There was something else." Gavren sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He shifted a little, and looked down.

"And..." Duncan looked at him.

Gavren met his eyes. "He offered to take the two of us to a place of safety, giving us his personal protection."

"No." Duncan shook his head. "Not a chance." He blinked. "Maferath's balls, you're not actually considering it, are you?"

"A chance to pull Fen'Harel out of this fight?" Gavren nodded. "Yes, I'm considering it. As long as Fen'Harel is dealing with you and I, he's not here trying to get to the staff first."

"I..." Duncan shook his head. "But that pulls us out of the fight as well."

"And what if he decides to keep you?" Alistair shook his head.

"Father and I would go retrieve them." Kieran shrugged. "I can find them anywhere."

"That's..." Alistair nodded. "Good to know, actually."

"I'm not going anywhere with the Dread Wolf." Duncan narrowed his eyes. He turned towards the group. "But this does give us more options. We know who Baradies wants and why, so -"

"If a suggestion that we use the two of you as bait comes out of your mouth, I will personally drag you to that eluvian and shove you in." Alistair's voice rang out sharply.

"It's not a bad -" Gavren started to say.

"Gavren. Dorian. Rutherford." Cullen stared at his son, cutting off whatever Gavren had been going to suggest.

"Well, then." Kieran shrugged. "I guess that means we will be using me."

"And what if he does kill you?" Lenore turned towards him.

Kieran got a pained expression on his face. "Then I have to sit through another of my parents' lectures on being more careful. For hours."

"Oh those are the worst." Gavren gave him a sympathetic look.

#

"Is letting him go really such a good idea?" Alistair glanced at Brehan, and then back at Tisallan.

"Do you really want Fen'Harel showing up personally to retrieve him?" Brehan sighed, and went to the door of the room that contained the prisoner. "It's not like we were getting anything useful out of him."

"How far in over our heads do you think we are at the moment?"

"Remember the moment we realized darkspawn had taken the Tower of Ishal?" Brehan sighed. "Feels a lot like that."

"Brehan?"

"Yes?"

"Remember..." He shook his head. "Duncan and Eamon and..." He sighed. "Remember when we used to think the old guard had the answers?"

"And now we are the old guard." Brehan nodded.

Alistair turned to Tisallan. "At what point do we actually get to know anything?"

"When I find out..." Tisallan shrugged. "I will tell you."

#

Lenore blinked when Agatha seated herself in Jerath's lap, and kissed the man. When exactly had that happened? How had that happened? To keep herself from commenting or giving looks of disapproval, she walked over to the stairs, where she found her cousin staring, his jaw hanging slightly open. She started to ask, and followed his gaze. Salla was laying on a pallet, snuggled tightly into Kieran. An old god, a former archdemon, had his arms wrapped around her niece as they both slept.

"I'm not imagining that, am I?" Hawke glanced at her.

"My daughter is kissing a man who is both thirteen and thirty."

"Was it really too much to hope they'd be..."

"Normal?"

"Exactly."

She leaned into him, and felt his arm go around her shoulders. "If it was normal, it wouldn't be our family."

#

"Brehan." Caleb waved at him from where he was sitting with Tisallan.

He walked over to join them. "Yes?"

"So, I was going to ask Tisallan which of his sons he thinks you are descended from." He smiled at the elven man. "Which would you guess?"

"Nelaris died childless. My other sons were Halavin and Venisal. Halavin had two daughters. Thus you are the descendant of Venisal."

Brehan leaned back in his chair, and then shrugged. "What was Venisal like?"

"A good man." Tisallan lifted a shoulder. "Though I admit to bias. He was a woodworker, specializing in the craft of musical instruments." Tisallan looked down at his hands. "He had four sons of his own. With luck, you are descended from his youngest, Tirien."

"What do you say with luck?" Caleb leaned forward. "Was Tirien special?"

"He was the smart one."

"So a great scholar?"

"No." Tisallan shook his head. "He raised sheep, on a small farm. He stayed out of the war, out of the politics, away from the cities, away from causes and creeds, far from both adventure and hard questions."

"Ah." Brehan smiled. "The smart one."

"Only one intelligent enough not to pick up a sword in the first place." Tisallan rubbed his thumb into the palm of his hand. "Enara would have been amused by this. A piece of her brothers, met across these long years." He took a deep breath. "The universe has a very odd sense of humor."

"It does." Brehan leaned back in his chair. "My father died before I was born. By the time the opportunity arose to meet any of his family, they were a decade in their graves. I didn't think there were any Mahariels left in the world."

"Mahariel." Tisallan smiled. "Then you are likely not of Tirien." He folded his hands, setting his arms on his knees as he leaned forward. "Durlathen had only two children, both sons, the younger of whom he called Mahariel. Odd, what survives the years."

"Tell me of Mahariel."

"He and his brother both studied at the Sulahnven. Mahariel was a gentle lad. He could sing, but his preference was the harp. I remember..." Tisallan chuckled. "I remember he had a great fear of Enara's wolf. The beast was convinced there was no food in the world tastier than that poor boy."

"Yeah." Brehan nodded. "He'd be the one then." He shook his head. "I have the scars to prove it."

#

"So we have a plan?" Lenore looked around.

Cullen gave her a frustrated look. "Yes."

"Not a good plan then?"

"A good plan really wasn't one of the options."

#

Agatha moved lightly across the rooftops. A moment later, Brehan landed beside her. "Tisallan is in position."

"The white bridge, up by that reflective spire." Agatha nodded.

Brehan turned in that direction, and narrowed his eyes. "A sentinel?"

"Definitely an elf, anyway, but it's not Melavan." She glanced back at him. "How often do you run into other people when roof-running?"

"Far more often than you might think." He smiled.

"Once, in Denerim, I ran into eight people in one night. One of them was King Alistair's nephew."

"Remind me to tell you about the night I ended up in a turf war between four different thieves' guilds." He pointed. "There is our signal."

She saw the hawk, and nodded.

#

"I feel useless." Caleb sighed as he paced the warehouse landing.

Adralicus nodded. "Why do they need two of us to guard one wounded man?"

"I'm fairly confident you have who is guarding who confused." Loghain shook his head.

#

Kels stood a couple paces from the Commander, hand on his sword, ready to move at the signal. He could see Kieran, Dorian, and Arenda talking in the foyer. The cult had to know by now which properties Magister Arenda owned. It had been decided that leaving Kieran unguarded was entirely too obvious, and so Hawke and Fenris were nearby, apparently engrossed in a board game.

There was little left to do but wait.

#

"I hate waiting." Duncan sighed, and fingered his bow. "I should have joined the folks on the roofs."

"No."

He glared at Jerath. "You remember the part where I'm the one who gives the orders?" He sighed. "I'd be better with a higher vantage point anyway."

"With all due respect..."

"Jerath, why is it whenever you say 'with all due respect' what I hear is 'kiss my arse'?"

"You are capable of understanding subtext?"

"Agatha is a bad influence on you."

His father chuckled.

#

"I couldn't have done what you did." Caleb didn't look at the man sitting next to the stairs. "And I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Caleb..." Loghain started to shake his head.

"Shut up." Caleb took a deep breath. "But I know if you hadn't done it, we'd all be dead or worse. Salla and Kieran wouldn't have arrived in time to help us, and as soon as the cult discovered the key missing they'd have done something to the others. So maybe it was a good thing, that you were there, and you could make that choice." He swallowed. "I guess, in my own stupid way, I'm trying to tell you I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"She opened her hand." Caleb nodded. "Remember that part, okay. It wasn't all on you. She made her choice too."

"I know." Loghain sighed. "Maybe in time, that will -" His head came up sharply, and then he stood.

"Loghain?"

"Get your crossbow, and get ready." Loghain drew his sword as Caleb grabbed the crossbow and ducked behind some barrels. "Adralicus?"

The magister grabbed his staff and stood, looking around. "I don't hear any..."

Shrapnel flew through the room as part of the wall exploded.

#

The call of the hawk pierced the air, and Agatha saw people moving towards the building. On the roof across from her she saw Melavan, waiting at the edge of the roof like a cat prepared to pounce. She tensed, waiting, dagger in each hand.

#

Leandra saw the mage start to summon his magic. A heartbeat later, she felt a surge of energy from her father as he shut the spell down. Immediately, Gavren was drawing on magic of his own and the group of enemy cultists were abruptly all pulled together into a tight grouping. A few of them managed to stab each other in the process. A shout went up.

#

Kels heard the window shatter. He saw the astonished look on Dorian's face when Kieran caught the arrow just a few inches from the magister's throat. More arrows struck a barrier. There was shouting from the alley, and then the Commander was moving. Kels drew his own blade and followed.

#

Salla switched forms as she landed next to Agatha, and immediately called up a barrier around Agatha and Brehan. No sooner had she finished than Tisallan and Melavan had leapt from their hiding places and were upon the cultists attempting to sneak up on the building. Agatha and Brehan landed a heartbeat later, putting their own weapons to good use. She remained where she was, calling up ice to aid the combatants.

#

Loghain saw Adralicus call up a barrier, but the onslaught still took the mage off his feet. He barely got his own shield up in time to block the debris. Caleb got his own head down, dodging the shrapnel before coming back up and firing his crossbow into the oncoming trouble. The woman leading the attack was elven, and carried a coppery staff. "Shit." Loghain saw her gathering the spell. With little other option, he called the Fade to him and dove into the fray.

#

Cullen got his shield between Dorian and a cultist just in time to block the blow from an axe. He felt the same curious energy he'd felt during the battle against the qunari, and realized belatedly that it must be Kieran's magic. Next to him, Kels had moved into a defensive position in front of Kieran.

Hawke and Fenris were doing what they did best. Kirkwall's most famous battle couple were making short work of the cultists pouring in from the rear of the building. He gestured at Kels, and they began to push back against those coming in from the front, giving the mages space to work.

To the left he saw fire raining down on the cultists, along with arrows. Alistair, Jerath, and Trian were in the thick of things. On the right, the elves backed by Salla were sowing chaos. He saw Leandra pull her father to the side, and began to wonder where his son was before most of a city block suddenly picked itself up and flung a group of cultists into the air, screaming. Gavren strode through the wreckage, green flames trailing up his arms as he flung spells. Leandra gave a triumphant laugh before diving back in, sending a man twice her size flying hard enough to go through a door with a roundhouse kick before putting her giant blade to work.

For a single horrified moment he couldn't help but wonder just what his grandkids were going to be like.

#

Duncan was taking aim when his eyes fell on one of the mages. Fire raced through his veins as he adjusted his aim. The blood mage started moving just as he fired, and the arrow missed him by half an inch. Immediately, the man started running back the other way. Duncan leaped from the balcony and followed.