Notes: Musical inspiration is the title of a song by Falconer on the album The Sceptre of Deception.


Chapter 24: To Pledge for Freedom


That evening, they all sat in the family sitting room. Leandra had taken out her charcoals and was attempting to do a portrait, something she had not done since Malcolm had died. Anders was seated at a desk along one wall, writing some sort of long, multi-page document with a look of intense, almost furious concentration on his face. Caitlyn was reading a book to Mal, who was listening intently and sometimes even saying the next words before she did. She wondered if it was that he had memorized this book, a young child's version of Black Fox, or if he had already learned to read without her knowledge. Memorizing books was a step right before reading on one's own, anyway, and he was going to be four years old this month. It was young to be reading, but not unheard of, and she already knew that he had a gift for language with the way he spoke and the fact that his diction had been so good for over a year and a half. At least Anders would get to witness this epochal event in Mal's development. That thought made her happy; he would finally get to see a milestone for his son.

It is Wintermarch, she thought. Anders and I met about five years ago. I wouldn't have opened up to him at all if I'd known that the Templars would take him away for so long... She glanced at Mal, then Anders. And that would have been a horrible decision. I know I would have chosen to avoid that pain then, at age twenty... but I would make a different decision now if I were faced with that choice. I was a different person then. Now, there is no chance that I would let them, let Circle policies, dictate the manner in which I pursue happiness or whom I choose to love.

A knock sounded on the front door, and she jumped in her seat. Leandra set down her charcoal pencil and rose to her feet at once, hurrying to answer the door. Her face was white. It was too soon for a letter from Carver, and Caitlyn realized what her mother likely feared. We would have heard earlier today if the ship had sunk, she thought. It sailed yesterday and it is a very quick trip. But she still held her breath until she heard a pair of voices in the foyer of the house. She was reasonably sure that she had heard the second voice before, but she could not place it...

"Caitlyn," Leandra said, emerging back into the sitting room, "this is a Chantry sister who says that she knows you and Anders..." A look of confusion and mild alarm filled her face, but Caitlyn instantly knew who it would be, and sure enough, Sister Petrice trailed behind her mother, a calculating and faint smirk on her face.

"Yes," Caitlyn said at once as Anders turned around from his desk. "It's all right, Mother. She knows our 'secret' too. It's fine."

"Oh," Leandra said. "I see! Well... won't you have a seat, then?"

"Don't mind if I do." Petrice sat down in an empty chair and put on her friendliest mask. "I heard of your recent re-acquisition of this house, and your son's induction into the Grey Wardens, and I came to offer my congratulations."

That's not all you came for, I'm sure, thought Caitlyn.

"Oh," Leandra said again. "Well, thank you, sister. I am certainly glad to possess it again, though it came at quite a price." She sighed. "My son had to join the Wardens, if you follow me."

"Carver is perfectly happy with his career," Caitlyn reminded her.

"Yes, my daughter is right; he is," she said to Petrice.

"And you still have family with you," purred the sister. It sent a chill down Caitlyn's back.

Her mother, however, did not detect the insincere affectation of kindness, or perhaps it was that she did not know what Petrice was capable of. "Yes," she said innocently. "That makes quite a difference. I wanted this house not for myself, but for the future of this family."

"I am sorry to interrupt your evening together," Petrice said smoothly, "but in addition to offering my felicitations, I actually came to discuss the future of your family." She gazed pointedly from Caitlyn to Anders, then back to Leandra, clearly waiting for the older woman and small child to leave—or for the young couple to leave with her to a private room.

"Oh!" Leandra said, her face lighting up, certain that she knew what Petrice was alluding to. Mother probably isn't wrong at that, Caitlyn thought, but I'm sure that's not all, either. She is going to want our support now that we really are "folk of Hightown."

Anders gathered the sheets of paper on which he had been writing and rose from his chair. "I suppose we should show you to a private study, then," he said, obviously just as suspicious of this visit as Caitlyn was.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary," Leandra said. She got up and lifted Mal from Caitlyn's lap, along with the book. "I can finish reading to him in his own room. Of course you want your privacy!"

Once she had taken Mal upstairs, Caitlyn turned to Petrice with a pointed look. "Well," she said, "Anders and I are... a bit more sophisticated about certain things than my mother. I'm quite certain that this visit is about more than you told her."

Petrice smiled back, almost a leer. "Of course it is."

Anders sat down beside her on the divan, clutching his papers. Caitlyn glanced over quickly and caught a snippet of a phrase.

.

If the Maker blamed magic for the magisters' actions in the Black City, why would He still gift us with it? The oppression of mages stems from the fears of men, not the will of the Maker.

.

That was interesting, she thought. Wasn't it just a few days ago that Anders was arguing with Carver about whether magisters really had stormed the Black City to become the first darkspawn? This seems to be a political document, not a diary. Perhaps he referred to it because he knows most people do believe that. Or perhaps he's reconsidering his own memories of the Architect.

"My mother introduced you as 'Sister,'" she said to Petrice in genial tones. She took Anders' hand, pointedly showing Petrice their rings. "As you can see... well, we would like the services of a priest pretty soon, and we both agreed that it should be you. When do you think..."

"I expect to be ordained in two months," Petrice replied. She smiled in approval at the rings, though it was more of a smirk. "I am glad to see that the two of you are making your relationship right in the Maker's eyes."

Anders tensed aggressively, and Caitlyn squeezed his hand as unobtrusively as she could manage to tell him to relax and let her handle it. She was not sure if Petrice genuinely believed that or if she was saying it to try to seize "power" in their conversation. She had grown up in the midst of the Game. But whichever it was, Caitlyn did not see the point in rising to the bait. "We meant to do it four and a half years ago," she replied, "but circumstances interfered."

"Templars interfered," Anders muttered, unable to remain silent.

"Yes, there are unfortunately many who took oaths to Our Lady who are actually acting against what the Maker would will," Petrice said.

"You truly don't have a problem with two mages marrying?" Caitlyn said.

"There is no prohibition of it in the Chant of Light. Your parents' marriage was valid, and Grey Warden mages have been married through the years. Of course, it usually does not happen in the Circles, due to the authorities' discouragement of it, as you both know better than I." She brought her hands together and twined her fingers as she peered out calculatingly. "I will be happy to do it for you as soon as I have the right to do so. But you know that is not the main reason I am here."

Caitlyn had suddenly had quite enough of Game-playing. She could do politics, she was quickly realizing, but her general nature was to be forthright. "Yes," she said. "Let's speak freely. It makes it easier, so we don't have to guess. You want to be the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall, don't you?"

Anders drew back with wide eyes, shocked at her bluntness, and gave her a look askance. Even Petrice was taken aback for a second. But in the next second, the woman's face became shrewd again.

"Yes," she said, "I do. The Chantry of Kirkwall needs new leadership, leaders with vision, who see the myriad threats to this city with clear eyes and neither turn aside, appease the threats, nor, in their own pride, try to fight with one hand—or both—tied behind their backs!"

"Myriad threats to the city, you say," Caitlyn repeated. "Besides the Qunari, what do you see as those threats?"

"They hardly bear repeating to you, either of you," she said with a shrug. "You have fought them for as long as you have lived here: criminal gangs, Tevinter slavers, and the scourge of poverty that leads the poor to choose gangs or heretics such as the Qunari who offer them an alternative. I do not see the majority of mages in Kirkwall as one of those threats, if that is what you are asking. In fact, that is what I meant by fighting with hands tied behind one's back. In Orlais, I saw the power of Maker-fearing mages to fight evil, and you two have demonstrated it here. The mages of Kirkwall could do much good to alleviate the suffering of the poor, combat these criminals, and menace the oxmen into leaving. Tevinters are heretics too, of course, but... they are less heretical, and there is a reason why Tevinter has never fallen to the Qunari. Perhaps that is why this Arishok is here: They realize they are unlikely to conquer Tevinter, and are looking instead to the southern countries as easier prey."

I don't want to call anyone heretics, but at least we are on the same page about why the poor often do what they do, Caitlyn thought. "I agree with you about the Qun," she said. I'm not sure that we dislike it for the same reason, she thought, but we do both dislike it. "And I agree that the Arishok, as a head of government, has a reason for being here that has nothing to do with being 'stuck' here and unable to take ship, and I also agree that they're not being forthright with the Viscount about anything."

"You disapprove of the Viscount," Petrice said. She leaned forward slightly, eyeing Caitlyn with interest.

Caitlyn considered for a moment whether to tell this to Petrice, but decided that she probably should. The woman apparently had sources, and she might find out about it through other means and distrust Caitlyn in the future if she didn't divulge it now. "His son went off to try to—to join the Qunari, I think," she said. "Dumar didn't approve of that, but in my opinion, he's been far too lenient with a foreign armed force that would take his only child away without question if Saemus thought he wanted to join them. I cannot imagine that Saemus truly understood what it would mean, and I'm sure the Qunari let him continue in his ignorance if it benefited them. He must have thought that he would still get to be his father's son under the Qun but just live a different, simpler lifestyle."

Petrice was deeply interested in this. "Of course they would lie to him or conceal the truth," she said. "And Dumar still doesn't want to give them an ultimatum to leave. What will it take, if the prospect of someday losing his own son to them cannot convince him of the danger? It seems hopeless that he can be strong if the bond of parent and child is not enough! I'm sure neither of you would accept it without a fight if your son were taken away forever by someone!"

Caitlyn was certain she knew where Petrice was leading with this, and why she had specifically contrasted the present Viscount with her and Anders. Her tone of voice was too dramatic and affected, and that last remark was so blatantly designed to manipulate and flatter that Caitlyn was almost embarrassed for the Game-player's lack of subtlety. "Sister Petrice," she said smoothly, "Anders and I have discussed what we would do in that very circumstance—though I should say, we are far more likely to lose him someday to the Circle of Magi than to the Qunari."

"Unless the Qunari conquer Kirkwall someday."

"Yes, that might be a risk indeed," she agreed. "Neither of us knows exactly what they intend, but they're not being honest or open, which doesn't bode well. And the Qun is an ideology of conquest." So is Andrastianism, she thought, but much of the trouble with the Chantry comes from the decisions of Divines and priests, and doctrine is more malleable than the Qun. "You're here to broker an alliance with us now that we have made good on the goal I mentioned in Lowtown. I agree with you about the Qun, and it seems that you agree with us about mages." She took a deep breath. "Anders and I are extremely dissatisfied with Elthina's leadership, to say the least. The rampant poverty among my countrymen and the elves in the alienage is a disgrace—and as you say, a threat to Kirkwall, because they will turn elsewhere if they have no hope."

"And however poor and weak they are, they are children of the Maker too," Petrice said airily.

Despite the condescension in that remark, Caitlyn was surprised that Petrice did not seem to share the same degree of bigotry for Fereldans and elves that she had seen on display so often... but then, Petrice was not a Kirkwaller by birth either. The Orlesians certainly had no love for Fereldans or elves, but perhaps being forced to leave her country penniless and being a foreigner in a place as provincial as Kirkwall had made a small difference.

"Yes," she said simply. "So—I will support your ambition, provided... certain things."

Petrice raised her eyebrows. Beside Caitlyn, Anders shifted, shuffling his papers.

"First, I realize that as a new priest, you would need to take a strong leadership role to have a chance of replacing her. I also realize that the obvious... venue... for that is to speak against the Qunari to draw a contrast between yourself and the current authorities. I will back you, provided that you don't hurt your own cause with your tactics. No more playing games with innocent civilians," she said, giving her a hard glare. "That is a line for me. And frankly, you shouldn't want to do it anyway. It exposes you to criticism that you could completely avoid otherwise. Just speak your message directly to the people."

Petrice scowled but assented reluctantly. "All right. It will be... unusual... for me, an approach I have never taken, which is rather frowned upon in my home country, but there is much power in rallying crowds of rabble."

"Do all that you like of that," Caitlyn said. That was not exactly what she'd had in mind, and she had a moment's concern at the idea of telling a potential demagogue to rile up angry mobs, but if the alternative was for Petrice to get more bystanders hurt or killed by tricking them, there was no choice. She felt Anders shift again beside her and continued, because she knew what he wanted her to say. "Another thing—and this is something that we want. If you achieve your goal and become Grand Cleric, there are... things we'd like changed."

Petrice glanced at them. "I imagine there are. What do you have in mind?"

"We will want the mages of the Circle allowed to see their families on a regular basis," she said immediately. "It is cruel to tear parents from their children, sisters from brothers, spouses and lovers from each other."

"I agree, and this is why many in the lower Orlesian nobility defy that. The family is the Maker's first institution and it is not for people to destroy it without good cause."

Caitlyn wondered if this woman would have a religious reason for everything. "So, you'll force the Knight-Commander to change that, then? And there is one other thing." For now, she added in thought. "I want—we want—the Rite of Tranquility banned in this city. We have reason to believe that it is being abused." She didn't think it should ever be done, but she decided not to say that just yet.

"It is an abuse," Anders burst out, unable to constrain himself.

To Caitlyn's surprise, Petrice agreed with him. "Yes, I think it is as barbaric as what the Qunari do to their mages. It denies mages the opportunity to come to the Maker of their own free will."

Yes, she will have a religious reason for everything, Caitlyn thought—but if it served their goal, so be it. They would need to persuade the devout of the rightness of their cause too. "We may have other ideas about the Circle in the future," she said coolly, "but that's it for now." She paused as something else occurred to her. "I do have a concern about something else, something related to the prospect of speaking against the Qunari. Do you think..." She hesitated, considering how to phrase this vague concern. "Do you think Elthina would change her tune if you made a leader of yourself and obviously posed a threat to her power? It could be dangerous if she did."

"She is more likely to plot against me—against us, if she knows you are with me—in secret than to change course and recant her statements openly. She presents a certain face, but she is a schemer too. You should be aware of this possibility."

Caitlyn nodded. "Thanks for the warning."

"The Viscount, it seems, is also a problem. Something might need to be done about him too."

Anders sat upright and stared hard at the sister. Caitlyn bristled as well. "Sister Petrice," she said sharply, "I am not going to participate in a plot to—well, to 'do anything about' him in the way I think you're implying."

"But Serah Hawke," Petrice said, her expression a cunning grin, "how, then, will you achieve your ambitions?"

She took a breath and steeled herself. Anders seemed to think that Petrice was only referring to their shared ambitions to reform the Circles much more radically than she had mentioned tonight, but that was not so. This was the very subject that Varric had hinted at the previous night, the subject that had frightened her then, and Varric had alluded to it much more obliquely than this. But if she wanted to do it, she would have to face it and speak of it, and she knew that.

"We can 'do something about him' by letting his son continue his infatuation with the Qun, then reveal that at the worst time for him—or the best one for us," she said. "If the Grand Cleric has tied herself to him, it could be used to discredit both of them. Then there would be calls for a new Viscount... or Viscountess," she said blithely, though beside her, Anders gave her another shocked glance as he understood her at last. "Kirkwall doesn't have a long-standing ruling family; the nobles of Hightown are not fettered to that tradition, so it would most likely be someone who already had support among them as a secular leader to complement the religious one."

Petrice nodded, apparently confirmed in her own suspicion. "It's a plan. I will certainly keep in touch with you about when I am ready to act, and I will notify you as soon as I have been ordained." She rose from her chair. "Please give my regards to your mother."


"Cait," Anders said that night, after they had said good night to Leandra and Mal, "were you suggesting what I think you were, regarding the Viscount?"

She nodded. "It's a scary thing to consider... but yes. I think it's necessary in order to do what we want to do for our kind."

"It's probably also necessary to keep that woman from knifing you in the back once she has what she wants," he said with a glower. "If a mage patroness became a liability, she would. I still don't completely trust her."

"Neither do I, but you're right. She won't decide I'm disposable if I become powerful enough."

He gave her a tender smile. "I never imagined you would want a crown—a diadem, whatever."

"I'm not sure I do," she confessed, "at least, for myself. But... I want it for others."

He nodded. "I noticed that you said you would have other ideas for the Circle reforms. You already have some, I bet."

"Oh, yes. To start with, every single Healer, allowed to serve the public."

He laughed wryly. "You aren't going to let that go, are you?"

"Absolutely not. You belong to this family, not the whole city of Kirkwall. I know you feel the compulsion to do this, and it's kind and compassionate, but others should be free to do this work too. Though I'm sure none of them will be as good at it as you," she said, feeling a slight twinge of guilt for her earlier comments to him about it.

He smirked. "Justice would say that I should not give in to pride..."

"But Anders probably agrees with me, does he not?"

He pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead, not disputing it whatsoever. She was deeply amused, and she was feeling good enough after this evening's events that she had managed to release all of her frustrations from earlier in the day. Her mother's behavior wasn't his fault, anyway.

Anders let her go. "I do have misgivings about giving her approval to rile up 'the rabble,' as she calls it."

"I can't say that it sits well with me, either, but I'm surprised that you would say that! Unless I am very mistaken, you were writing a political document this evening, some sort of mage rights manifesto..."

"Oh, you saw it?" he said, grinning. "Well, yes. That's exactly what it was."

"Then why does it bother you for someone to appeal to the masses with manipulative rhetoric?" she teased.

"I'm not trying to manipulate! I believe in my cause."

"I'm sure she believes in hers too—and really, Anders, of course you're trying to manipulate," she said. "That's the point of manifestos! Manipulation doesn't mean dishonesty... though I have to say, I'm very interested that you referred to the magisters in the Black City."

"I... suppose that it might be true," he acknowledged grudgingly. "The Blight came from somewhere, and Justice is very confident that the Black City is indeed Tainted... but nobody has ever been able to reach it in the Fade except possibly those magisters, so how did the Blight get from the Black City to Thedas? This is about reason, not blind faith," he insisted. "And it's disgusting that anyone uses something like that to condemn all mages. I stand by what I wrote."

"Of course it is disgusting," she agreed softly, trying to calm him. "I was only teasing you."

He nodded. "I know. Honestly, my worry about her riling up people with 'torches and pitchforks' is that I think she cares a lot more about the Qunari than the plight of mages. The point of this alliance, from your perspective and mine, is to help mages."

"She does, and it is, but I care a lot more about the plight of mages than the Qunari, and we do agree on both issues, even if we don't share the same amount of... fervor. That's politics: 'This is more important to me and that is more important to you, but we agree, so we'll ally.'"

"I guess so!" He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "When it comes to that goal, I'm with you every step of the way, love." He chuckled wryly. "And you know I'll speak up if anything ever... concerns me."

"You and Justice both," she said. She leaned over and draped herself across him in an embrace, and in a few moments, they were back to the pattern of tender motions that was by now so, so familiar once again.


Anders headed to the clinic the next morning as usual, picking up his staff and heading toward the basement. Caitlyn did not try to stop him; since he had been determined to go even the day after Carver had left, there was no excuse whatever that she could attempt on him this time. And I have asked him to accept and live with a "career" that would be truly disruptive, and a political approach for it that he doesn't really like, she thought. I suppose... it's fair for him to ask this of me.

However, when Mal determinedly tagged along with him, it gave her a pang to watch that happen again and again. Part of her thought that this might still just be Mal's awe of his father and the comparative newness of Anders in Mal's life—but she was not sure of that now. They had known each other for several months; if Mal were not actually interested in healing, that would have asserted itself by now, surely. In all likelihood, the child really did prefer his father's use of magic to heal people to his mother's use of it to harm enemies. It's the escape from Lothering that traumatized him, and then the first year in Kirkwall in which I came home talking about having to defend myself with magic, she thought. I've used magic indoors for domestic purposes, like cooking, or force spells to move and manipulate objects, but he really must not like seeing it used to maim and kill, even though he understands that those I do that to are bad people—or monsters. She felt sad and a little jealous, though she was ashamed of that latter emotion. If Mal was more like Anders in disposition, that was no bad thing. She and Anders were living together—they were going to marry soon—but it still felt to a part of her like losing Mal because her choices were unappealing to him.

Am I going to lose everyone I love if I do achieve my ambition? she fretted. Be left with no one but allies of convenience like Petrice, because all of my family and friends have charted their own paths? Will Anders and I end up sharing a bedroom and little else someday, and I will no longer be close to my own son? Will my friends be replaced with officials and advisors?

She breathed heavily and tried to clear her thoughts. This was ridiculous. She had just come into wealth, and her ambition was little more than a gleam in her eye yet. I won't allow that to happen, she vowed. I would hate to drift away from my friends, especially Merrill and Varric, but if this ambition does come to pass, I will not sit back and let them go. And Anders, at least, will be with me all the way. This cause is as important to him as it is to me. There is no way whatsoever that he will retreat into the shadows and be satisfied healing refugees if I—face the thought, name it, Caitlyn—become Viscountess of Kirkwall someday. Justice wouldn't be satisfied. He will be my closest, most trusted advisor. Of that I'm certain. This is temporary, and it's being exacerbated by the fact that Carver has left and my mother has been difficult. I'm letting my anxieties run away with me.

Calmed, she sat down at her desk to read her letters—and Anders' manifesto.

He was quite a persuasive writer, she realized with surprise after finishing the document. Rather than being a furious, vengeful diatribe, it was an impassioned, articulate, learned plea that illustrated its author's intelligence and dedication to this cause. It invoked the history of Thedas and the use of mages to quell every single Blight—including the most recent one—as well as the support of the Circles in the Exalted March against the Qunari. She noted with amusement that Anders even mentioned his own defeat of the Architect, though not in a boastful way. The document also contained personal stories, both his own and those he had heard from patients, whether the families of mages or those whose fears of magic were overcome when magic saved the life of their loved one. And to her surprise, the manifesto made arguments similar to those she had heard from Leliana about why it was not blasphemy to allow mages the freedom to live as other people did, but was the right thing to do. Anders believed in the Maker, she knew, and apparently he now entertained the possibility that the Blight really did enter the world through the actions of seven ancient blood mages. But he also regarded Andraste as more of a political leader against an oppressive empire than the literal voice of the Maker. She wondered if that might be the influence of his spirit, who apparently believed that he and other good spirits were the original voices of the Maker. Still, Anders evidently saw the necessity of arguing his case to the faithful, and he did not regard faith as the problem—just the institution that claimed to represent it.

She set the manifesto down, rather awed by it, feeling very warm and affectionate toward its author, and determined all the more that he would be her partner in this enterprise. He would insist on it anyway, she thought with a smile. Her day was suddenly looking much better.


Over the next few days, the pile of mail on that desk grew, including two letters that they had all been waiting to read: one from Carver and one from the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. The one from Lady Cousland was a thick parcel, in fact.

Carver's letter was succinct and unemotional, apparently meant to calm Leandra's fears that he would not arrive safely. He was at Vigil's Keep, and the other Wardens had welcomed him warmly. There was another Warden post at an isolated fortress called Soldier's Peak, captained by Loghain, but Cousland did not seem inclined to send him there, he thought. The Wardens would go on periodic patrols of the Deep Roads to continue to clean up Ferelden after the Blight, but no one seemed particularly worried about these patrols. Most of the mage Wardens apparently were based at Soldier's Peak, Carver reported, but Cousland did have a Dalish battlemage who said she knew Anders and a new Healer Warden from the Mages' Collective.

Leandra was greatly relieved to have this letter and carried it around the house for much of the day, holding it to her chest and smoothing it out before reading it again and again. As Caitlyn observed her mother's behavior, a new idea struck her. As frustrating as her mother could be, and as inappropriate as her clingy behavior was with adult children, she really had been terrified of losing another child.

None of us got to mourn Bethany properly, she thought suddenly, and we have all suffered for it. I've blamed everyone but myself for it, then, finally, wallowed in guilt to the point of destructiveness with regard to my relationship with Anders. Carver also blamed himself, or felt that he failed as a man—especially after Ostagar—and it compounded his resolve to go on the Deep Roads expedition. And Mother clung to all of us, even Mal, terrified that we would be taken from her, because she saw the one thing a parent should never, ever have to see, and it shattered her. We never got to grieve for Beth properly because we immediately had to survive in Kirkwall by becoming smugglers, and until Anders came to the city, we didn't even have her ashes.

Maker. What shape would this family be in now if we hadn't met him again—if he hadn't come? Carver would be dead, we would be in debt to the Carta, and I would probably no longer be motivated to care about anything except shielding my own son from life—just like Mother.

When Anders came home that day, she gave him a warmer-than-usual hug, which also lasted longer than usual. Mal was pleased to see his parents being affectionate and beamed as they embraced. Anders did not know exactly what was up, but he didn't question it. She had been unusually tender to him a few days ago, he recalled, and it turned out that she had been greatly moved by his manifesto.

"What brought this on?" he finally asked as she drew away.

"Mother and I heard from Carver, and after that, I was just thinking about how much you've done for this family," she said. "I shouldn't have been so hard on you the other day about going to the clinic." She nodded at the desk. "There's a package for you from Lady Cousland."

He went over to the desk at once and popped the seal. The letter was much more informative than Carver's, and Anders found that the parcel also contained a small vial of opaque glass.

.

Warden Anders,

I appreciate the very interesting and thorough report of darkspawn activity in the Deep Roads site that you marked in your enclosed drawing. It is concerning to me that you and your companions encountered so many, but this is apparently evidence that they have begun to return to the Deep Roads and repopulate them in earnest. The respite that Wardens scouting the Deep Roads, as well as our dwarven allies, had immediately following the Blight is likely over. I have also taken note of your addendum regarding the strange red lyrium. I have never encountered such a thing in my travels, but I shall examine the dwarven Shaperate and perhaps the Circle library to see if others have experience with it. It is odd that a fellow mage would have a different reaction from yours. The fact that Serah Hawke responded somewhat differently could indicate that you experienced what you did for reasons other than magic. Warden Carver says that you did not pass through the thaig again on the way out, but I am wondering if I should write to Warden Stroud and ask him if he reached it and felt anything unusual. That could help to narrow down whether your reaction was due to the Taint or the presence of Justice.

I am glad that you could save a life by administering the Joining potion and am impressed with Warden Carver's skill at arms. He has integrated into my unit well; I deemed it inadvisable to assign him to Warden Loghain's troop at Soldier's Peak, given his experience at Ostagar. Please keep the remaining vials of ingredients in case you need to use them on anyone else.

I am also grateful to you for aiding the widower and child of one who fell in defense of my family. Gawain is tending the grounds at Soldier's Peak, due to the special consideration of his daughter. Warden Anders, I understand why you sent them out of Kirkwall, if the Templars there are killing children, but you should know that I cannot guarantee her freedom in Ferelden either. Since the Circle was almost destroyed during the Blight, the Knight-Commander—with the approval of the Grand Cleric of Ferelden—has been engaged in a harsh crackdown on the Mages' Collective, arresting as many of them as he can to refill the depleted ranks of Circle mages. I believe that is the purpose of the "roundup," and there is no indication that the mages who are captured are being killed or made Tranquil in above-average numbers (in fact, there seem to be fewer of both, further supporting my theory), but you should know this if you are personally invested in the young girl's freedom. I have done what I can to keep her from being separated from her father, but I cannot make any promises. There are no age limits on who can be conscripted, but that is an option of last resort for a child. Someday she may choose to join us of her own accord; for now, I shall not force such a thing upon a healthy young girl. Several mage Wardens serve at Soldier's Peak now and I have assigned a tutor to her who has no association with Warden Avernus. I have restricted the nature of the research he may do, but I would not put any mage who is drawn to him in charge of the tutelage of a child, and I had that liberty in large part due to the Templar crackdown across Ferelden. As you may have been aware, I did work for the Collective during the Blight. I have made it publicly known that any apostate who volunteers to join the Grey Wardens will have sanctuary from the Templars. This decision has not made me very popular with the Knight-Commander, but I have the backing of the King and Queen in it, and this policy has replenished the ranks of mages in the Grey Wardens.

I have news to report concerning Warden Avernus and his research, which relates to the package included with this letter. He believes he has made a breakthrough despite my restrictions, and it is true that all of the Wardens who took the enclosed potion experienced remarkable effects from it. Although he freely acknowledges that he has stayed alive well past a normal human lifespan due to blood magic, he attributes the fact that he never had a Calling to his experimental potions. This potion combines his earlier work slowing the Taint to a crawl with the breakthrough that the Architect made to end the Song of the Archdemon. Although the theory seems sound to me, Avernus cautions that it is untested, and he does not promise that it will have any impact on more subtle effects of the Taint (he too experiences Warden nightmares). He informs me that a disturbing implication he has discovered is that powerful, intelligent darkspawn such as the Architect—if any others remain—could manipulate the Taint to influence the thoughts of Grey Wardens, and that his potion may increase that risk. Despite this caution, most of my Wardens chose to reap the benefits, including Warden Carver, but I leave the choice up to you. Please destroy it if you do not take it.

Finally, on a personal note, I offer my congratulations to you on your upcoming nuptials. As I stated in a prior letter, I was delighted to be wrong about the fate of your lady and son. I will certainly permit Warden Carver to attend, and with your permission, I may wish to send another Warden—preferably one whom you know from your time in Amaranthine—to Kirkwall with gifts for you and Serah Hawke. Do let us know the date as soon as you are able, if this is agreeable to you.

Elissa Cousland, Warden-Commander of the Grey in Ferelden

.

Anders held the vial in hand as he passed the letter to Caitlyn to read. The bit about Avernus might verge on being Warden secrets, but he did not care if she saw it. She was going to marry him; she had the right to know these things.

Warden Avernus is a blood mage, he thought. I've never met the man, but Cousland, Loghain, and Oghren all seemed to know it from meeting him during the Blight. This potion came about from blood magic, I'm almost certain—even if she did put restrictions on him. And this caution about intelligent darkspawn being able to manipulate our thoughts through the Taint, like an Archdemon could direct the thoughts of the darkspawn themselves...

He glanced at Caitlyn, who was getting visibly steamed, he guessed about the passages relating to the crackdown on the Mages' Collective. Sadly he supposed that the organization had always been living on borrowed time. It depended in part on buying off mage-sympathetic Templars with black-market lyrium, and perhaps some key individual had been discovered—or died at last of the toxic effects. At least Cousland was offering another option to these mages—but at a terrible price, for even if Avernus's potion could prevent a Calling, it apparently could not prevent the other effects.

Justice already thinks he can prevent the Calling for me, Anders thought—but then he looked at Caitlyn and at Mal. But what if he's too confident? What if something happens in my lifetime to strengthen the Taint more than he can counter? They know for a fact that Avernus didn't have one. Justice is confident, but my case has never happened before.

This potion is the product of blood magic and probably murder, and it could open me up to suggestion by another like the Architect, if there are any others.

Which there may not be. The Architect was active for years. Surely we would have heard of it by now if there were another... And Justice wouldn't stand for it. He would fight it.

He glanced at them again. I would not do this just for myself... but for them, I will.

Caitlyn gasped as he uncorked the little flask and downed the potion. She dropped the letter on the desk and held him, supporting him just in case he collapsed—but he did not. Instead, he felt stronger than ever.

"Anders," she whispered, realizing what he had just done.

He glanced up at her and managed a smile. "It's all right," he reassured her. "I'm all right. And... as you saw... it seems that your brother might be too."

She stared at him, grimacing for a moment, before finally nodding.


Notes: Yup. The political scheming part is a preview of the direction the rest of the story will take. I did say this was going to become quite AU.

I'm making an extrapolation about the surprising, disturbing side effect of Avernus's potion, but he sends his research notes to Weisshaupt if you let him live, and later on, Weisshaupt turns out to be up to no good in this specific regard.