They hadn't been exactly sure when Sigrun and the others were going to arrive in Kirkwall, so everyone had been taking turns hanging around in Lord Harimann's foyer to wait for them. Alistair was the one in the chair when Sigrun walked in.

"You only brought a mage?" he asked. "Warden Kondrat, I'm hurt! I thought for sure the Voshai liked me better than this!"

"I brought Rhannur and Andreas-"

"Ah, the ringleaders."

"-but they went to go look at something in the abandoned house a couple doors down. I'm supposed to find Mhequi."

He'd notice that mansion, but it hadn't really stuck out after the first time. He'd been out around Hightown, and the overcrowding that plagued Lowtown didn't extend up here. There were a surprisingly large number of vacant and falling-apart estates.

"Theron, Sigrun's here!" he yelled into the house proper. "The Voshai want Mhequi!"

That brought everyone, including Nathaniel with Delilah to introduce his sister to another of the Wardens he'd Joined with. Delilah offered her hand to shake, but Sigrun had already gone for a hug and the side of her face pressed into Delilah's stomach.

"It's so nice to meet you! Nathaniel missed you a lot, it's good that he found you again."

"Why did the Voshai want Mhequi?" Theron asked.

Alistair shrugged.

"That's just what Sigrun said. They went into that abandoned mansion a couple doors down."

"Mhequi," Sigrun said, pulling away from Delilah. "Andreas said to tell you 'sovellirajaa'."

"Wait, really?" Lockhard asked. "I- wow. Talk about unexpected."

Alistair grabbed Mhequi as she tried to run past him out the door.

"Woah there, Warden," he said. "What's this sovellirajaa thing?"

"Is-" Mhequi said, fidgeting with nervous energy. "Is Voshai Keeper. Warden. Templar."

"A Voshai Templar? I've got to see this."

He let Mhequi go, and the other Wardens followed her out, Theron hanging back a moment to tell Viktory to stay with Kallian and Fen and begin her inspection of the estate's basement.

"Lockhard?" he asked, once he'd caught up.

"I was going to say that a sovellirajaa is like a Voshai Chantry sister, but a Voshai Keeper is probably a better way to explain it," he told them as they walked over to the mansion. "Except not every hold- uh, clan? town?- has one. It's not required that they be mages, but they're all sorcerers."

"What's the difference?" Theron asked.

"A sorcerer is anyone who uses magic, through whatever means. The Voshai would call Circle mages and Templars sorcerers. They don't think there's much of a difference between using magic you're born with and taking lyrium to get power."

"You know," Alistair said. "I'd wondered."

"A sovellirajaa is something who really understands lyrium," Lockhard continued. "As they get better at using it, they tattoo it onto themselves-"

"They what?" Alistair exclaimed, aghast. "And they're not all- they don't die horribly?"

"I don't understand it either, but they seem perfectly sane, and they tend to live a long time."

"That's," Alistair said, and then just shook his head. "I know you chose them, Lockhard, but the Voshai are crazy."

Lockhard shrugged, and drew his sword, pointing to the inlays around the base of the blade.

"That's lyrium," he said. "Mhequi did it for me. She's on the path to become a sovellirajaa, but she hasn't made much progress since we all left the holds. I don't know what she did exactly, but I swear this sword can cut through anything."

"But only Tranquil and dwarves can enchant things! You can't enchant if you're connected to the Fade!"

"Well, Mhequi isn't a dwarf or Tranquil," Lockhard said, resheathing his blade. "And I sat there and watched her do it, along with the sovellirajaa who was judging her skill. So you must be wrong."

Alistair would have thought the mansion was abandoned except for the tracks in the dust and dirt and the sound of the Voshai's voices up ahead. There was someone else in there with them, a deep voice that was ever-so-slight hoarse, but-

"That's not Voshai," he said. "Is it?"

"Voshinnen," Lockhard corrected. "No, it's- Tevene?"

"Interesting," was all Theron had to say about it.

The mansion was built of a kind to Lord Harimann's estate, though not exactly identical. They found Rhannur, Andreas, and Mhequi seated on the floor of the reception hall, ignoring the dust and talking animatedly to a strange elf in Tevene.

"Uh," Alistair said quietly. None of the four had noticed them coming in. "Anyone else here know Tevene? I don't."

Theron knelt right down in the Voshai's circle next to the other elf like he belonged there.

"Salve, hospita, toba pax. Quis tu?"

The strange elf blinked at him in surprise.

"Fenris. Es… unde e arrathanni?"

Theron smiled at him.

"Sic, eo e arrathanni. Unde es?"

The strange elf scowled ferociously and spat on the floor.

"Minrathous."

"Why do you know Tevene?" Alistair asked. "Where did you even learn Tevene? You're Dalish! Don't you hate them or something?"

"I know enough to be polite," Theron told him. "I can say 'hello' and 'goodbye' and ask basic question. I learned it from a book."

"Only because you would not let me teach you what I know," Zevran said. "The offer is still open."

"I don't need to know how to beg for sex in Tevene. Or to ask what sort of accident someone wants an assassination to look like."

"So you say now, amora, but who knows? Life is such an interesting journey."

"Should I ever find myself in a position where begging for sex in Tevene would help my situation," Theron said. "It would only be because I didn't have the good sense or opportunity to kill myself beforehand. Ele El'vhen'anes banal'halam i din'sal judyir juvaslasir."

Alistair didn't know what Theron had just said, but it was full of weight and conviction and landed on the conversation like a ton of bricks. Everyone looked at each other uncomfortably as Zevran flinched and refused to meet Theron's eyes.

"I know Trade," the strange elf finally said.

"Great!" Alistair said, hyper-aware that his voice was really too loud, this was how he dealt with uncomfortable situations, just keep ignoring it- "That's good! If you didn't the Voshai have to tell Lockhard what you said and then Lockhard would have to tell us what they said and it would be a pain. So, I'm Warden-Captain Alistair, and the one with the impressively limited vocabulary is Arl-Commander Mahariel of the Fereldan Grey Wardens, I guess you already know the Voshai-"

"I am Fenris," the elf said. "These lyrium-eaters- the Voussae- are with you? I didn't think they ever came this far south."

"Yeah, they're Wardens too," Alistair told him. "The only ones, as far as I know."

Fenris looked at Theron again.

"So you are their commander?"

"Yes."

"I do not know what your plans are," Fenris said. "But your Voussae say they know- what was done to me. I would speak with them more, if they have the time."

"Done to you?" Alistair asked.

The lines of Fenris's skin- wait, the Voshai had smelled a sovellirajaa in here, and he wasn't Voshai but they'd been chattering at him like a long-lost friend, so those were lyrium tattoos?- shifted as muscles clenched.

"I did not choose to have magic branded onto my skin and soul," he said bitterly. "No one asks slaves for their opinions."

Oh great.

"Do you want me to send for Warden armor now or later?" Alistair asked Theron. "I could catch the courier boat Sigrun came in on when it leaves in the morning."

"What?" Theron looked confused.

"No, don't give me that!" Alistair told him. "He's an elf. Who was a slave. In Tevinter. His life was probably one great tragedy-"

Fenris looked very cross about being under discussion.

"I don't remember," he said. "There is nothing before the lyrium. Will you-"

"You shouldn't have said that!" Alistair exclaimed. "Now you'll never get rid of him! He keeps running across people with nowhere to belong and no one to care for them and taking them in! You'll end up a Grey Warden in no time!"

"I am not a Warden," Zevran reminded him.

"And how many times have we lied and said you are because it was easier, since you're always around?" he demanded. "This is, what, the fourth time? First the others lied to Caron, then Nathaniel lied in the paperwork to Weisshaupt, then we lied of a bunch of times when we went looking for Theron, and this time it was your idea, 'Warden Rivasina'."

"He doesn't look like he's been eating," Sigrun worried. "Fenris, would you like to have dinner with us? We're staying at Lord Harimann's, it's just a couple doors down-"

"It's rude to invite guests over when you're a guest yourself," Nathaniel reminded her.

"Don't," Alistair told Fenris. "Don't. We start associating with each other and then slave hunters or- or Templars or something, they'll sense the lyrium- will turn up and try to arrest you or capture you or something and then he'll invoke the Right of Conscription to get you out if and then we'll be stuck with each other for forever. Now, wait- I bet it'll be the city guard, you can't own the deeds to this place."

"It's my house," Fenris said, crossing his arms. "I live in it. And when the Magister I ran away from returns to reclaim it, he will die."

"So you're squatting," Alistair said. "And you've probably been stealing food or something too, because no one knows you're here and you can't be inconspicuous. Great. Perfect. You're exactly the sort of person Theron loves recruiting."

"We could come here for dinner," Sigrun said. "We have more than enough money to buy food, and there's a kitchen in here somewhere."

"And we could help clean," Theron said thoughtfully, looking around.

"Talk more," Mhequi said. "Need real sovellirajaa. Not one, but can do best."

"Are you expecting this Magister to return soon?" Zevran asked. "We are quite proficient at killing mages, and even if the others decline, it has been a long time since I have had such a challenge for my skills. And for you, it would be free."

"What?"

"Slavers," Zevran said cheerfully. "Are the scum of Thedas. I would love to see what sort of protections a Magister uses."

"You're an assassin," Fenris realized, and then looked at Theorn. "You have a pet assassin, Arl-Commander Mahariel."

"He isn't a pet," Theron told him. "He's 'ma'len. My amatquem."

Fenris's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, but he stayed silent.

Rhannur told him something in Tevene.

"Really," Sigrun said. "You need food."

"Would I," Fenris said. "Be able to move freely about the city, without harassment, if I was in your company?"

"I don't think we can promise 'without harassment'," Sigrun said. "There were some Templars at the docks and they didn't like us much. But the Commander wouldn't stand for it. If someone got you in trouble, he'd come get you out!"

"And I do not have to join?"

"If you're not already helping us and claiming to be a Warden recruit, I'll invoke the Right of Conscription if it prevents trouble," Theron told him. "But if you don't want to join, I wouldn't hold you to it. I'd only ask that you leave with us to keep up the lie, and then avoid whoever I conscripted you from once you'd left our company."

"If Danarius-"

"The Magister?" Theron asked. "Zevran and I will help you kill him."

"Then we have no conflicts," Fenris said. "If you would like to have dinner, you are welcome to stay. Food would not be… unappreciated."

Nathaniel sighed, like he'd lost some kind of internal argument.

"If we're going to be associating," he said. "Could we re-base here? I don't want to impose, but our current host wasn't expecting the… circumstances we've found ourselves in."

"For food that wasn't stolen and more arms against my former master?" Fenris asked, and swept out an arm. "All at your disposal. I will help however I can, and accept the pretense of a recruit. I will have no reason to remain in Kirkwall once Danarius is dead, and the notoriety of the Grey Wardens may well draw him here faster. He would never be able to stand the thought that I belonged to someone else."

"Right," Alistair said to no one in particular. "I'll just go catch that boat, then."

"There's no reason to be inefficient," Theron told him. "Delilah and Albert and the children need to go back to the Vigil. Nathaniel can take them, and have Wade make some armor for Fenris, and get us money for our operations here."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said, and I was wrong," Anders told her. "There's so much magic on it that I can't feel anything else! I don't know if it's still Tainted!"

Marian turned to Merrill.

"If you took the magic off-"

"It's an eluvian, Marian, it's inherently magical! Even if I could do it, that would destroy it!"

"Which I've already said you should-"

"You don't have to be an ass about it!" Marian snapped at him, and felt guilty about it when Anders slumped. That arguing had been the first sign of his real self since Ella, and now it was gone again.

"Just… leave me alone," he said, turning to go. "I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not-"

"You're a good person and I'm going to fix it," Marian cut him off, before he could get all self-depreciating again. "And if you're going to leave at least open up the clinic. People need you, and it will keep you from wallowing."

Varric was frowning at her now, but Bodahn opened the door and Anders slipped out before he could say anything.

"Oh, excuse me-" he said as Anders pushed past him.

"What is it, Bodahn?" Marian asked.

"It's not for you this time, Serah Hawke, it's for Varric."

Somehow, she wasn't even surprised that the two of them were on a first name basis.

"What is it?" Varric asked.

"It's- I was just out at the Merchant's Guild, you see, checking on some things," he said. "And they were saying there's a Legionnaire that's come off the boat from Ferelden! And some Templars tried to stop her because she had a pair of mages from Tevinter with her!"

"Those things separately, I could almost believe," Varric told him. "But both of them together? Someone's spinning tales."

"No, no!" Bodahn insisted. "The Legionnaire is real! I was walking back and there were porters returning to the docks, and they said they'd taken the luggage to a dwarf with her face all tattooed in blocks who was staying at someone's estate!"

"Varric," Aveline said. "What's a Legionnaire?"

"Someone who joined the Legion of the Dead," he told her. "It's the group of dwarves who guard Orzammar form the Deep Roads and wage an endless war trying to reclaim the empire. You're considered ritually dead once you join, and they mean it. You have a funeral, they tattoo a death mask on your face, the whole deal. It's because anyone who goes to fight the darkspawn is already dead."

"We survived," Marian pointed out.

"We were lucky, Hawke," Varric said. "I know you escaped the Blight in Ferelden, but you still don't understand. I'm pretty sure even I don't fully understand how lucky we were, I just know it as a fact. Anders is probably the only one of us who does, being a Warden."

"Legionnaires never leave the Roads, not unless there's a serious emergency!" Bodahn fretted. "And even then it's only to bring the news before they go back in!"

Marian and the others exchanged looks. Could the Taint in Krikwall be that bad, or was there something worse going on that they just didn't know about?

"From Orzammar, you said?" Marian asked. "That's quite a distance."

"There's no one closer," Varric said. "Unless you want to count Kal'Hirol, but I don't know if they have Legionnaires or not. They're too new for me to have contacts there yet."

"Wardens and now a Legionnaire," Marian could hear Aveline mutter. "We must get to the bottom of this!"

Delilah had insisted that if she and her family were going to get on a boat for Amaranthine tomorrow morning, she had to go introduce them to Lirene now.

So Theron sent Rhannur to replace Kallian and Fen as Viktory's ruins-sweeping support, and when they arrived himself, Alistair, Zevran, Nathaniel, Delilah, Kallian, and Fen- "because all Fereldans will trust someone with a mabari!"- followed Delilah's lead down to the docks and then into Lowtown while Sigrun stayed behind to coordinate getting dinner, helping Fenris clean, and moving the Wardens in.

Lowtown residents Delilah knew saw them on the way in, and carried word ahead of them, so Lirene wasn't surprised to see them.

"I thought you'd found your brother and he was taking you back to Ferelden," she told Delilah as the women hugged in greeting.

"Oh, he did!" Delilah said. "He is! Lirene, this is my brother Nathaniel- he and his friends didn't realize how bad things were in Kirkwall, so they're staying to help solve some problems."

"I'm Nathaniel Howe," Nathaniel introduced himself, with a charming smile and an outstretched hand- thanks be for a Constable, or a Seneschal, who knew him well enough to know that Theron didn't how to bring up who he was and why exactly they were here, and had taken the duty upon himself. "Warden-Constable of Ferelden and Acting Seneschal of the Arling of Amaranthine. Delilah's said a lot of good things about you, thank you for what you've done."

Lirene had taken his hand before he'd finished his introduction, and her smile had gone at a bit stiff when she'd realized she was shaking hands with a Grey Warden, and a high-ranking one at that.

"She's said a lot about you too," she told Nathaniel. "Though she didn't mention the family name."

"Understandably?" Nathaniel asked.

"Absolutely," she agreed, and Theron saw Delilah and her brother relax a bit at that. The rest of the room- a few people who had been here buying things or asking for help when they'd walked in, and the store assistants- were listening in intently. Nothing for it then. They'd just have to give up on trying to keep their presence quiet, because the news was going to be all over Lowtown by this time tomorrow.

"Mistress Lirene," Theron said, and Nathaniel moved aside. "My name is Theron Mahariel Sabrae, Warden-Commander of Ferelden and Arl of Amaranthine-"

Someone somewhere in the room made a noise suspiciously like a suppressed shriek of glee.

"-and Delilah said that we had to talk to you if we wanted help."

"I-" Lirene said. "Well, I- goodness! Del, you're just full of surprises today!"

"Allow me to introduce some of my people," he continued. "This is Sergeant Kallian Tabris of Amaranthine's army-"

He saw the moment when she bit back a comment about her being an elf, and elected to ignore it.

"-Zevran Rivasina, my personal aide and advisor; and Warden-Captain Alistair of Soldier's Peak."

This time, Lirene did comment.

"King Maric's bastard?"

"Yes, yes, that's me," Alistair sighed. "Can we move on now?"

"And this is Fen," Theron said, rubbing the mabari's head. He barked happily and wagged his tail, and Lirene couldn't help but smile at him. Mabari were the true weakness of all Fereldans.

"They want to help," Delilah told her. "But there's also something we needed to talk to you about-?"

"Of course. Macha, take over for a minute."

Theron, Nathaniel, Delilah, and Lirene went off into a side room, leaving the others to entertain the customers. Theron explained about the hint of Taint, much to her alarm.

"I haven't heard of anyone with the Blight sickness," she told him. "But I don't know if I'd be the one people told. You really should ask-"

She shut up suddenly and glanced at Delilah, who looked to her brother.

"What?" Nathaniel asked.

"If there was-" Delilah said, and bit her lip. "If you saw an apostate-"

"We wouldn't report them to the Templars unless they were hurting people," Theron promised.

"And maybe not even then," he heard Nathaniel mutter.

The women noticeably relaxed.

"Our healer is an apostate," Lirene explained. "Delilah can take you for introductions. He'd know if there were rumors that anyone had been Tainted."

"Thank you," Theron said. "We'll go directly. If I come back in a few days, or send someone, would you have time to talk about what the refugees need? Or have it written down so we can reference it later?"

"Absolutely. I'll have it ready."

They gathered everyone back up and Delilah led them into what she called Darktown, a whole new area of Kirkwall, a shadow to the city outside. It was built in the original Tevene mines, and air and light got in where the rock had been removed during the construction of Kirkwall proper, but it still smelled stale and probably got very dark and stuffy away from those massive windows.

Delilah took them up and down a maze of wooden stairs and platforms until they reached a dead end walkway that butted up against one of the windows. The long end facing them was a building set into the rock that looked better kept-up than most they'd passed, and had two large doors that stood wide open. A lantern was lit outside, even though evening hadn't set in.

She led them inside, and Nathaniel stopped dead.

Theron walked on, reaching up to grab his lost Warden's shoulders. The healer was frozen in- fear?

"Anders," he said in wonderment. "Anders. You're alive."