Notes: Here begins the scheming in earnest. I am embellishing some things for my AU.

I am hawkish on foreign policy/human rights/national security and I think that'll come out in this chapter. Generally I wouldn't want to "go there" bringing up real-world political points of view, because this is just a story, but I wanted to give a heads up so that nobody mistakes the perspective I'm coming from for why Hawke feels the way she does.


Chapter 33: Red Fox and Silver Fox


"The Viscount wishes to speak with me?" Caitlyn exclaimed in surprise.

Aveline nodded. "It's about the Qunari, I understand. He did not give me all the details."

Caitlyn sighed, closing her eyes. She hoped that Viscount Dumar was not going to ask her to negotiate with the Qunari about going back to Par Vollen. Her plan to achieve her ambitions depended on their continued presence for a while yet, so that Saemus Dumar could get further embroiled with them and discredit the standing Viscount that way. She supposed that if he were asking her to be an ambassador, she could undermine and sabotage negotiations, but then that would reflect poorly on her too, and she saw no way to escape it. She didn't want bloodshed, but she did want to see the current leadership disgraced. But I have no choice right now, she thought. He wants to see me, so that's that.

At the Viscount's Keep, she quickly learned that the situation was even more exasperating than being a messenger for the very Viscount that she wanted to replace. Allegedly—Caitlyn had her doubts about this, but supposedly—the Arishok of the Qunari specifically wanted to meet with her about a security concern that had arisen. Why he would have troubled himself to deal with her rather than the designated leader of Kirkwall, however poor a leader Dumar was, she couldn't say. As she headed home to tell Anders what she was going to do, another thought crossed her mind as well.

"I wonder if Elthina told the Arishok anything about you," Anders said darkly after she had found him and explained the situation.

"That has occurred to me as well," she agreed. "I'm going to try to find out what I can. If she did, he would have no reason to protect her. And from what I've seen of them, they are quite blunt about a lot of things."

"They're blunt about things they don't care to hide," he said. "They've been circumspect indeed about their reason for staying here. But you're right; I can't see any reason why the Arishok would care about keeping Elthina's involvement secret from you. Unless she did it covertly, and he doesn't know."

And if she did it at all, it was probably covert, Caitlyn realized, her heart sinking. Well—once again, there was no choice. At least she would get to take the Qunari leader's measure herself.


Even though Aveline, Varric, and Fenris were beside her, fully armed, Caitlyn felt horribly exposed in the Qunari compound. The Qunari knew this place and she did not; if the Arishok decided that he could not talk with these "bas" after all and ordered them slain, she was not sure that she could defend them with magic. She was carrying a staff that resembled a two-handed waraxe if one did not look too closely, and she would certainly try, but this place was well-fortified, defensible, and the Qunari who manned it were trained soldiers. What in the everlasting Void was Dumar thinking? she thought in fury as she approached the Arishok, who sat on a throne-like seat. Not only did he allow a foreign head of state and part of his army to occupy Kirkwall without explaining their reason for being here, he gave them one of the best buildings in town from a military strategy standpoint! Idiot! Fucking idiot! And to think that he had his thugs send Fereldan refugees to be locked up in the Gallows. If I ever find out whose idea it was to do that to my people, I will personally drain every drop of blood from their body, promises about blood magic aside. And the Qunari ever use the advantage that Dumar has given them, the blood of Kirkwall is on Meredith Stannard's hands for choosing that fool!

Her thoughts continued to rage and storm against Dumar's inexcusable dereliction of duty to his city, and by the time she was actually facing the horned Arishok, she would not have been surprised if it showed in every line of her face. The Arishok, at least, did not seem to care about her emotional state; he was apparently business-first and Caitlyn, despite her disapproval of the Qun and distrust of these people, respected that.

"You have changed your fortune over the years," the Arishok said, eyeing her. "The Qunari have not."

Envy? Caitlyn thought wryly. They'll never admit to that, but that sure sounds like it to me. "You have not chosen to confide in anyone about your mission for being here—and yes, Arishok, I know you have a reason for being here."

The large horns that framed his sculpted face were menacing and alien, and Caitlyn found herself wondering if the Qunari often used that to their advantage when dealing with other people. Those horns would be a distraction, perhaps a great enough one that others could not focus on their facial expressions. On the other hand, his face was expressionless right now.

"Our mission does not concern bas. It would be a disgrace for any not of the Qun to be involved."

Caitlyn tried to control her temper. The structure is a fortress, she reminded herself, we're surrounded by heavily armed and trained Qunari soldiers, and I have a child, a husband, a mother, and a brother who love me. I have brought my friends along too. Think about them. This won't end well if I blow up now. "If the Qun says that it is a disgrace to ask for help when you need it, then your fortunes may remain as they are indefinitely," she said coolly. "But that is not why I am here, I presume."

"It is not. I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok."

"The explosive black powder," Caitlyn said, recalling the term. "I take it that what he stole is something else." She eyed him dubiously. "How many formulae for weapons of mass destruction do you have, anyway?"

"More than we do, please remember," Varric muttered pointedly to her under his breath, giving her a sharp look.

The Arishok clearly overheard Varric's warning. He paused for a second, letting Varric's words sink in, before continuing. "The stolen formula was a decoy. Saar-qamek, a poison gas. A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind, but made in quantity... It is not a threat to qunari. For your kind, it is as dangerous as those who breathe it."

Caitlyn clutched her staff in increasing anger as the words sank in. "A decoy," she repeated. "A poison gas that messes with people's minds. So, as I understand it, you deliberately gave this instead of the gaatlok formula to somebody, and now you want me to track this person down to prevent carnage. Have I got that right?"

"It is no longer our problem," he said dismissively. "Is it our fault if another chooses to create the gas? I think the merchant Javaris has it. The results of refusing to stop him will be thousands of deaths."

Caitlyn recalled a shady, rather pitiful dwarven merchant with whom she had dealt before, three years ago, while she was doing jobs to earn coin.

"And why did you want me to do this?" she said.

"I don't call anyone in Kirkwall an ally, or even a good rival. But you have shown competence. I respect that."

In spite of her growing fury that she was being asked to deal with the results of others' greed and selfish indifference—including the very person to whom she was speaking—she could not but agree. "Well, I suppose that does explain why you didn't want to deal with Viscount Dumar in this," she cracked.

"The day comes when the Qun will demand an accounting. Until then, I will show respect to the most promising among you."

Aveline tensed at these words, and so did Caitlyn. A chill shot quickly down her back. That is a threat if I ever heard one, she thought, suddenly very eager to leave this place. He means to take over Kirkwall someday if he thinks that the Qun has left him with no other choice—and he does not mind confiding that to me. Does he think I might convert to his side, and that's why he told me that? He doesn't know I am a mage, then. Oh, Maker. My entire plan just got far more complicated.


Varric was confident that the dwarven merchant could be found in a Coterie hideout in Darktown. Following an increasingly exasperating chase through numerous organized-crime hideouts—Caitlyn made mental notes to herself to station guards at all these places if she ever became Viscountess, to prevent this sort of thing from occurring again—she finally found the fugitive merchant. To her surprise, he claimed that he did not have the formula—that, in fact, an elf had it, and had set him up to appear the guilty party.

Caitlyn did not want to turn him over to the crime guilds that were after him for coin he owed them, let alone the Qunari. When she told him to take himself out of town while he had this respite, she noted with wry amusement that this seemed to be the first time that Aveline did not disagree with her decision to let a shady character go free.

But at the same time, she was growing increasingly suspicious that this was a set-up for her as well. If somebody knew that she had worked with Javaris once before but that Javaris was not the thief, but that person had led the Qunari to believe that he was, the result of such a scheme could be a horrible choice forced on her: Kill Javaris despite his innocence, or make an enemy of the Arishok, and possibly the Viscount as well if the thief of the formula succeeded in making the gas. And either way, I will look incompetent, she realized, which is undoubtedly the real point. I have to find this elf and stop this at once. This entire scheme stinks of Elthina playing the Game against me, and I have to checkmate her if it is.


Upon their return to the city, she stopped by the alienage for Merrill, who she hoped might know something about this. The elven population was close-knit, and she hoped that Merrill was doing what she had urged her to do and acting as "Keeper" of the alienage.

To her disappointment, Merrill was holed up in her house with that blasted Dalish mirror that she had made a deal with a demon to try to fix. Caitlyn tried to swallow her irritation. "I do know about elves who are converting to the Qun," Merrill said earnestly. "There have been several who have become disgusted with their lives here and have defected."

"Merrill," Caitlyn said in as patient a tone as she could manage, "I understand why they feel that their circumstances are hopeless, but don't they know that there is a Dalish clan just outside the city that surely would be glad to have them? They wouldn't have to give up nearly as much if they joined it. Don't they realize that is an option if they want to leave the alienage? And don't they know that the Qun would make them give up their families?"

"I don't know," Merrill said, eyes wide. "Have I done something wrong? I am sorry if I have."

Caitlyn sighed, rubbing her forehead. "No, it's not your fault. I am sorry if I let you think I believed that it was." She paused. "Would you assist me in dealing with this rogue elf who has the Qunari poison gas?"

"Oh, yes," Merrill said eagerly, getting to her feet and grabbing her staff.


The elf had already created the gas, as they discovered once they returned to Lowtown proper. She had formulated it and already had several barrels, which had started to leak out. After Caitlyn closed them, the elf emerged from a building, her eyes wide with fury.

"You side with the Qunari!" the elf snarled, hefting her two-handed sword. "You! I know who you are, human. You have a child! How could you? And you, elf—you were Dalish! I see the markings on your face. You too?"

Merrill's features contorted in indignation, but it was Caitlyn who spoke first. "Merrill is Dalish. She lives in the alienage, but she holds to Dalish tradition. We do not side with the Qunari," she said harshly. "I want them back in their islands as much as you possibly could, if not more! I am here to prevent you from killing dozens with this weapon of theirs!"

The wild-eyed fanatic appeared to be already under the influence of the gas, Caitlyn realized, as she yelled again. "Qunari take my people! My siblings forget their culture, then go to the Qun for purpose. We're losing them twice!"

Despite the increasing hopelessness of this, Caitlyn tried to talk her down. "I agree with you," she said, trying to project a calming tone. "I understand. But this isn't the answer!"

The woman scoffed. "I think it is. Your people, humans, have joined with me. We planned to take the Qunari thunder, to take their poison gas, to create some 'accidents' and make them hated!"

A cold chill shot down Caitlyn's back. "Wait. Humans put you up to this?"

"I joined their side! I was put up to it by no one. We all agreed!"

"Who were these humans?" Caitlyn said, anger and harshness in her words. "Was there a Templar or a Chantry priest among them?" If so, I'm going to have some words with them for not telling me about this, she thought icily.

"No priest," the elf replied, and Caitlyn felt a slight touch of relief. "No Templar. They aren't interested in the poor of Kirkwall either." She spat on the ground. "And they care nothing about my people."

I really do need to talk with Petrice, she thought, and take control of this situation. This is already getting out of hand!

"This is not the answer," Caitlyn repeated. "Kirkwall has failed many, but the Qun is not the solution to what is missing in their lives, that I do agree with. But neither is lowering ourselves to this kind of violence. You're hurting the cause."

The elf snarled in fury and attacked. She was a very good warrior, and Caitlyn rather hated having to kill her even though she was a murderous fanatic. A fighter like this, who had the muscle to wield such a big blade, would have been greatly valued by Merrill's old clan... but probably not after creating this poison gas and letting it loose, she thought.

"I can't use that blade," Caitlyn said once the fanatic lay dead on the ground. "Fenris, Aveline, you two sort out who should have it."

Fenris had been almost completely silent throughout this entire sequence of events, beginning with the meeting with the Arishok. His brow was furrowed deeply with concern. "Years ago, a group of Qunari helped me," he said in a low voice. "I am ashamed of what I did at last... and I have been sympathetic to their people because they are the enemy of Tevinter... but the Arishok is wrong. People have died because of this. If they could have stopped that formula from leaving their compound, and deliberately chose not to, blood is on their hands. I thought them more honorable than that."

There was a silence among the group as they contemplated what had happened. At last Aveline turned to him, holding the fallen elf's blade. "I use sword and shield. My guards who use greatswords are all equipped, and it's the city's responsibility to take care of them. You can have this if you want it."

He picked up the blade and tried it out, swinging it in the air. "It's a good blade. I will keep it to remember that there are no easy answers to hard questions... and no true innocents."

On that dark note, they all left.


Caitlyn wanted to go home and hug her family, but she knew that she had yet another person to talk to. Even if Petrice was not involved with the group of humans that had talked with the dead elven fanatic, the fact that such a group existed at all meant that it was already past time for the priest to take a leadership role, rather than letting the strongest opposition to the Qunari become violent and underhanded like this. And it's past time for me to start positioning myself as a leader too, she realized with a pang. I thought I had planned for this for almost three years... and it still sneaked up on me.

On the way to the Chantry, she had had a new realization. It might not have been just about making me look incompetent. Elthina might also have meant to drive a wedge between Petrice and me, by forcing me to help the Arishok and the present leadership when I'd rather discredit them.

The priest was surprised to see her, but did not object to the consultation when Caitlyn appeared in her office in the Chantry. "What brings you here?" she inquired.

Caitlyn gave Petrice a hard look. "I hope that you and Varnell were not involved in what I am about to describe. I don't think you were, but if you were... I am prepared to forgive it if you assure me that you won't do anything else without consulting with me first."

Petrice glowered across her desk. "What are you talking about? I thought we were on a level of trust beyond making vague accusations, Serah Hawke."

Caitlyn realized that she had been too confrontational. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "That wasn't how I meant to begin. Let me start over." She managed a self-deprecating smile and then launched into a narrative of what had just unfolded.

"So the elf told us, and she had no reason to lie, that there was not a priest involved with this group of humans, nor a Templar. Did you know about it in advance? If you did, just tell me."

"I truly did not, Hawke. I knew that there was discontent rising, but I did not know that this group had organized and was planning in secret. Things have gotten out of hand, since this is the case."

Caitlyn let out her breath. "That's exactly how I see it," she agreed, "and I was thinking that it meant... well... that our moment is here."

"Yes, it is. It is time for us to seize the mantle of leadership and speak against the Qun to the people, rather than letting lunatics do things like this. If the truth gets out about these actions, it would only make the Qun seem sympathetic." She smiled darkly. "Of course, it does make it easier that there is already a group of discontented and angry people. They just need leaders and a proper focus for their anger."

"Yes," she agreed. "It is time... and something else crossed my mind when I met the Arishok. Do you think that the Grand Cleric could somehow be involved in this by planting the idea that I was the only person that the Arishok could consult with, rather than an official? I got the impression that the point was to make me look incompetent... or even to drive a wedge between us, by making it appear that I was helping the Arishok and the current authorities."

Petrice considered that. "It's the sort of thing that she would do, and had you not talked with me about this, I admit I would have wondered why you didn't. I did warn you that she would scheme against you."

"I remember."

The priest rose from her seat. "You and I will be talking a great deal more in weeks to come, I expect. It's best if we have a meeting place other than the Chantry, as I'm sure you understand. What say you to the old house in Lowtown across the street from your uncle?"

Caitlyn grimaced inwardly, but this suggestion made sense. "It works," she said. "I would always have the excuse of visiting my uncle, after all."

"Yes." She paused again before adding, "You should begin to court allies in Hightown who are displeased with Dumar. I will organize a rally in Lowtown soon... in the marketplace, as that is where people gather. And I assure you, Varnell and I will find out who are the people responsible for the elf's plot, and such a thing will not happen again. He is even more aggressively anti-Qun than I am, in some ways. I think he would do well to lead this group of renegades... but don't worry, Hawke, he will control them and make sure that anything they do in the future is done against the Qunari, not the people of Kirkwall."

I really hope it doesn't come to that, she thought... but I suppose it might. The Arishok himself hinted that it might. If they attack, there need to be people who are ready to fight back. I will do what I can to keep the violence to a minimum. I am doing all this for my family and for mages, to have the power to do something about the Kirkwall Circle and get rid of Meredith Stannard and maybe even influence Chantry policy from Val Royeaux, since Leliana's priest is now the Divine... but I don't want these changes to come with a blood price. She recalled the dream that she'd had a year ago, the night before she and her friends set out to defeat Corypheus. The diadem of Kirkwall—she was sure that was what it was—had dripped with blood, and she had left a path of bloody footprints behind her in the Fade. It was only a dream. Anders and I have had several dreams about things that haven't come to pass.

But as Caitlyn left the Chantry, she realized that it was time to tell her friends about her ambition. Anders and Varric knew, and she suspected that Aveline also had guessed, but it was time for everyone to know about it.


Caitlyn returned home to find Anders and Mal waiting for her in the family parlor. Anders was holding a letter.

"This came while you were out," he explained, passing it to her. "It wasn't sealed. I'm sorry..."

"And you read it," she said with a wry smile. "I don't mind. I don't have any correspondents that I need to conceal from you, love." She accepted the note from him and read it quickly, then glanced up at him in alarm. "I remember this man, Feynriel. What do you think is going on? Nightmares, his mother says... You know more about the Fade than I do."

"I have some thoughts," he said. "We should go, though. And... I thought that this might be all right for Mal to see."

"But—" she began to object.

Anders shook his head. "He's a mage, love. He is young, but he is already casting spells. You can't 'protect' him from the Fade's influence. He'll have to learn how to navigate the risks someday. Whatever is happening to Feynriel is related to the Fade, and it seems that this is a good opportunity to show Mal some Fade magic... and hopefully a safe one."

"You're very confident," she said. "All right. You have a point." She gazed at her son, who was smiling, eagerness burning in his hazel eyes. "I know I can't keep him from the realities of being a mage, and it would be wrong of me to try. I was going to call everyone to a meeting tonight, but let's do this first."


It seemed that the entire population of the alienage was outside that night, gathered around the vhenadahl tree in the green clearing. Keeper Marethari passed inside, the elves nodding and gazing at her with great respect as she approached the tree. Merrill too had emerged from her house, and she watched with profound sadness in her eyes as her old mentor drew near. When the elderly woman reached the center of the green where Caitlyn, her family, Merrill, and Feynriel's elven mother were, Merrill cast her gaze unhappily at the ground, unable to even look Marethari in the eye.

"Feynriel is something rare," Marethari said. "Something that we no longer know how to train, even among the Dalish, and certainly in the Circles of the southern human lands. The magic he possesses makes him what the Tevinters called somniari, a dreamer. They can enter the Fade at will, and they can shape dreams and affect the world beyond the Veil. This makes them very attractive to demons—but they are mostly too frail to survive a demon's possession. A dreamer-abomination would be nearly unstoppable. The elves of the Dales had this knowledge, and I have done my best to recreate an ancient Dalish ritual..." She glanced at Feynriel's mother. "I must speak with these mages alone."

The elven woman drew back, leaving Caitlyn and her group with Marethari and no one else able to hear them. "Feynriel cannot become an abomination, no matter what. If you fail to save him from the demons' influence, you must slay him in the Fade. A death in the Fade will make him what your Circle calls 'Tranquil.' He will be no threat after." She glanced sorrowfully at Mal, whose eyes were wide with shock. "I wish that you had not brought your child to hear this."

Anders was staring at the elven woman in utter horror—and growing anger. "What?" he exclaimed. "You can't possibly expect—how can you ask that of us? Of me?" He pulled his son close, as if guarding Mal against the elven woman. Caitlyn was not certain, but she thought she saw a flicker of the spirit of Justice behind his eyes as he glared at Marethari.

"I hope it does not come to that," said Marethari, "but a dreamer-abomination would cause unimaginable destruction."

Caitlyn took a deep breath. "I understand." Anders gazed at her in shock and betrayal, his mouth falling open, and Merrill too glanced at her in surprise. Feeling horrible, she continued, hoping that what she said next would calm them. "We have a moral objection to the Rite of Tranquility, Keeper. It creates empty, emotionless slaves. No one should... exist... that way. I can't call it 'living.' If this should become necessary, I want your word that you will do what is necessary here, right after we return from the Fade."

Marethari sighed and nodded once in assent. "Very well. I must ask that your son not enter the Fade. It is dangerous."

"I wouldn't have brought him if I thought that..." Anders trailed off.

"It's all right, Father," Mal spoke up. "I know that you, Mamma, and Merrill can do it. It's fine. I know magic can be dangerous. I'm a mage myself and I'm older now." It was amusing to hear that claim from a six-year-old, or would have been amusing if the circumstances were not so dire. He was visibly frightened, clearly understanding rather a lot of what the Keeper had been saying, but he was still courageous and confident in his parents, and it gave Caitlyn a needed boost to her own confidence.

The elderly Keeper smiled sadly. "Then let us begin the ritual." She led the way into the house of Feynriel's mother.


Shortly thereafter, Caitlyn and Anders—who had been taken over completely by Justice once in the Fade—reemerged into the physical world along with the awakened Feynriel, who had vowed to go to Tevinter to learn from mages who still had the knowledge of this magic. Caitlyn had been rather comforted by the spirit of Justice while she had been in the middle of the dream-world. Plus, the fact that the dreamer mage himself had not reacted negatively to Justice—even though he had rejected the demons that were trying to possess him—made her more confident in the spirit and in Anders' current level of control over it. Lately Anders had been very afraid that Justice was becoming Vengeance more and more, but this was confidence-inspiring, and she was glad of Justice's company—especially when Merrill did fall prey to the words of a pride demon that suggested she could restore the glory of ancient Elvhenan.

Merrill was thoroughly ashamed of herself for betraying Caitlyn and making her friends fight her in the Fade, but strangely, the experience had given her the urge to finally face Keeper Marethari after they had returned. Beneath the layer of shame, a steely resolve had appeared in her face that Caitlyn had not seen in a long time.

"Merrill," Marethari began to say.

"I failed," Merrill said plainly. "I failed my friends, and I failed you."

Caitlyn and Anders were silent. They eased into the shadows. Anders tapped her shoulder and whispered, "Mal is in the back room with Feynriel's mother. I'll go to him." She nodded in reply, still watching, transfixed, as Merrill spoke to Marethari.

"You recognize your failure," said Marethari in gentle tones. "That is the first step. The second is to learn from it."

Merrill took a deep breath. "They have no Keeper here," she said. "They have a hahren but no Keeper. I have kept to myself here, trying to repair the eluvian, but after what happened..." She broke off, shaking her head. "It was another pride demon, speaking to me about the lost grandeur of our people. And I turned against my friends." She noticed that Caitlyn remained, then squared up her shoulders. "Our people are turning to the Qun, or to violence, because they feel abandoned. Hawke said it wasn't my fault, but it is. They respected you when you came to the alienage tonight. Even though most of them do not follow the old ways, they respect a Keeper. I will try to be that."


Caitlyn and Anders were both far too tired that night to have a meeting with their friends about the Qunari and Caitlyn's plans, and Mal was silent on the walk back to Hightown. Leandra and the cat and dog greeted them at the door, and the smell of food wafted through the house, but after the much-needed and very late dinner, they realized that they needed to talk with him about what he had seen and heard that night.

"Mal," Caitlyn said, sitting down on the divan next to him. He was seated between her and Anders, both of whom were leaning towards him in earnest concern. "You know that everything turned out all right tonight, don't you? The man that your father and I went into the Fade to save is fine, and he's going to study his special magical talent now."

Mal nodded. "I knew you could do it. Is Merrill all right too? I didn't see her afterward."

"She is fine. She just wanted to be alone. Everything is all right, Mal... and whatever you heard tonight, however scary it was, I want you to know that you can tell us about anything frightening that you see in the Fade." She gazed at him, forcing a smile on her face. "You should tell us. We've been in the Fade a lot more than you have, because we are older, and we can tell you what to do. Please don't let the events you saw tonight frighten you from telling us if you see anything in your dreams that disturbs you."

"That's right," Anders added, placing an arm gently around his son. "You heard the old lady elf telling us some scary things... but she only said that because the man we went into the Fade to help was in a very, very bad place due to everyone waiting too long to help him." That was not exactly true, but Mal didn't need to know that. Justice had been in control in the Fade, which had prevented Anders from having to think too hard about the events of that night, but he certainly was now, and it was utterly horrifying to consider these events in relation to Mal. Anders was determined more than ever to protect his son from the dangers of the Fade, and Mal was extremely magically talented—just as Feynriel was. Anders rather hoped that Mal was not talented in the same way, but the mere possibility was too dire to ignore. "If you see anything in your dreams that doesn't seem right, please, let us know. We'll help you."

"I know," the little boy said. "It's all right, though! I know that sometimes the things we see in dreams are demons. I just don't listen to any of them."

"You're doing exactly right," Caitlyn assured him. "Good for you." The ones who would bother a child know they're not strong enough to entice an adult mage, and the ones who are strong enough would want more than a child, even a precocious mage child, could give them, so he's safe from them... but someday he will encounter those, and I suppose that this is good practice for when that day comes. I wish I could prevent it from coming... but the only way to do that is evil beyond imagining. He'll just have to grow up and grow into his magic... just as Anders and I did. I'm sure my father was nervous too when I first showed magic. He believed in me and taught me well, and now, it is my turn. At least I'm not alone in teaching my child about magic, as my father was. She gave Mal a final hug of the night and gazed over his head to meet Anders' eyes. They were shining with warmth and love.


Caitlyn managed to get in touch with all of her friends early the next morning, and the meeting was that night. She had run over the words in her mind before their arrival, practicing in her thoughts. She did not have every sentence planned out, but there were some parts that she knew she needed to be prepared for, and she also knew that there were some friends—she was thinking of Fenris in particular—who would need extra convincing.

"I just don't understand why this is so important to you," Aveline said after she acknowledged her alliance with Petrice and gave them warning that the priest and Templar would be holding public rallies in Lowtown soon. "I'm not fond of these Qunari either, but they keep to themselves. They haven't bothered you either... that I know of. Why ally with that woman?"

Caitlyn took a deep breath. She had rehearsed this in her mind, though she was still not as confident as she would have liked about how to say it. The time had come, though, to tell all of her friends exactly what was going on. "It's true that she cares a lot more about the Qunari than I do," she said. "And I will be honest: If I believed that they were intending to settle in Kirkwall, living their lives as they saw fit and leaving everyone else to do the same, I would want to leave them be."

"So you don't believe that," Aveline said.

"I don't. For one, they have a head of state with them—and he's not exiled, disgraced, deposed, or anything of the sort; he is their current military leader. There is no way that a government would not seek to recover one of its top three leaders who was stranded in foreign territory—unless his presence here was part of a mission. He admitted it himself. You were there."

This, at least, her friends seemed to have worked out for themselves. Caitlyn continued. "But there is more to it. Since they first landed in Kirkwall, I studied up on the Qun—through my own reading, and also by asking Fenris about it"—she gave the elf a courteous nod of acknowledgment—"and what I found was that 'live and let live' is utterly incompatible with it, so far as we know."

Aveline frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's not a religion, exactly," Caitlyn explained. "At least, not as we all understand that. It's a plan to minutely order every aspect of life for a whole society, and apparently—from what I understand—it doesn't even make sense to be practiced alone. It's inherently about finding one's place—or being told one's place—as part of a collective. The Qun is not about believing in this or that deity, or doing a ritual, or following a few rules of behavior but being able to set the course of one's overall life. It's all-encompassing, and it's literally not possible to 'practice the Qun' in isolation, unlike the religions we know about. You have to join their society if you convert, or else you can't fulfill the demands of the Qun."

"So there is a demand in the Qun to conquer," Aveline guessed.

"I don't know what term is used, exactly," said Caitlyn, "but as I understand it—in essence, yes. The Qunari have conquered and tyrannized Kirkwall before, after all. This isn't like their prejudice against Fereldans; there is a history here. And given what the Arishok said yesterday about 'the Qun demanding an accounting,' well, you can figure it out."

Anders spoke up. "I have my own reasons to dislike the Qun," he said. "It's horrible to mages, even worse than Circles in some ways. I still think that the worst thing the Circles do is worse than the worst thing the Qunari do to mages, but... as hard as it is for me to acknowledge... the average Circle mage is much better off than a Qunari mage. And as Cait says, the Qunari nation orders every aspect of life for its people. Who wants that? And apparently you can't have families..."

"You can't," Caitlyn confirmed. "In Par Vollen, children are 'bred' and raised by the state. Women are used for breeding as the state orders... and men too, I suppose. And romantic relationships evidently have to be kept secret, because that's not encouraged either."

"And that's appalling and horrific," Anders said emphatically. "But..." He grimaced guiltily. "I don't mean to question and undermine you, Cait, but how exactly is the Qun's demand to conquer any different from the Chantry's call to convert all the world?"

She was prepared for that. "The Chantry—at the moment—doesn't convert at swordpoint, and it doesn't shove nonbelievers' faces into chemical brews to control their minds either. Yes, Anders, there's the Rite of Tranquility," she said as soon as she saw his lips part in objection. "And I agree it's much the same thing, and that's why we're going to see it banned when we have power."

The rest of the group—minus Varric, who somehow already knew—stared at her in surprise. She felt relieved that part of the secret was finally out, however, and continued, emboldened and encouraged.

"But the other thing is that there is nothing in the Chant of Light that requires forced conversion or Circles," she said. "Every Exalted March, every Circle policy was a decision made by Divines later. In the founding text, there's a call to spread the message, to sing the Chant in every corner of the world, but that doesn't require conquest or blood. There's not a word about Circles or the Rite of Tranquility. The original texts don't give rulers the kind of power that the Qunari rulers have over their people either, and an individual can practice Andrastianism even when others don't, because it is fundamentally about private beliefs and behavior. That's true for everything I can think of, actually, except the Qun. Everyone in this room, right here, can decide to believe in Andraste and the Maker"—she nodded to Aveline and, more hesitantly, to Fenris—"or just the Maker"—a smile at Anders—

"Or something like the Black Chantry's beliefs," he corrected wryly.

Caitlyn raised her eyebrows at him in surprise and interest; she had had hints of that from him before, but she didn't realize that his interest in the Tevinter Chantry was that pronounced. "As you say," she agreed. "That actually helps my point too! You can believe that, and Merrill can believe in the Dalish Creators, and Varric can revere his ancestors and the Stone—"

"Whoa, Hawke, don't look at me," Varric protested good-naturedly, holding up his hands. "I don't go for that Stone stuff. And Orzammar is, uh, maybe not the best example of a free way of life."

She chuckled and shook her head in mildly exasperated amusement. "I've heard a little about Orzammar, but that's also the result of political decisions. You could follow that... faith... if you wanted, without having to join a caste in Orzammar. Or any of us—or all of us—could believe in nothing, and whatever we believed or didn't, it wouldn't matter except to us and those we're closest to. Kirkwall would go on, because—with the notable exception of the Circle—Kirkwall's laws are not based on the rules of any religion. It's a private, personal matter. The Qunari government and the Qun are, so far as we know, inseparable."

They considered that for several moments. Then Aveline spoke again. "So far as we know," she repeated. "You've talked about how a lot of what goes on is just tradition or orders made by past Divines, not something written in the Chant of Light, so those things would be easier to change. How do we know that the Qunari government isn't the same way?"

Caitlyn considered that seriously. "I guess we don't," she admitted. "No one has seen the founding text of the Qunari, the Tome... whatever it's called."

"The Tome of Koslun," said Fenris.

Next to him, Isabela suddenly choked on her drink. She looked down at her lap, her face turning pink, as Merrill thumped her hard on the back.

"Are you all right?" Caitlyn asked.

The pirate hacked out a final cough and nodded, clearing her throat. "I'm fine. Sorry."

Caitlyn felt that something was slightly off; it was unlike Isabela to apologize so succinctly and without any sort of wry wit or joke involved, but she could not put her finger on why that bothered her. In any case, she didn't want to interrupt this discussion—because she had not even gotten to the main point, and she was sure that when she did, there would be plenty of discussion about that. "All right, then. As we were saying, nobody knows exactly what is in the Tome of Koslun."

"The Qunari don't know their own philosophy?" Merrill said in surprise.

"They know portions," Fenris said. "Whatever is most applicable to their station in life. But no, I don't think any of them know all of it except perhaps those at the very top. And the Tome of Koslun is a secret of their culture. If their archenemies, the Tevinters, got hold of it..." He trailed off darkly.

"So we don't know whether the Qun's founding text really does call for what their society and state do, I suppose," Caitlyn acknowledged, "but since it is a secret, and we don't know if it's possible to be a 'faithful' Qunari in a private, individual way, we can't assume that it is. And they certainly don't live as though it is." She paused before adding, "If it were possible, I would want to leave them be. As a mage, I just want people to have the freedom to live as they choose. But that doesn't seem to be how it works under the Qun... and that's why I am not comfortable with an armed force of Qunari, headed by their highest military leader, occupying Kirkwall."

They all contemplated that, until Fenris spoke again. "And that is why you have allied with this priest, this Mother Petrice. I confess, Hawke, I did not realize that the Qunari were this important to you. You have asked me about them, but I have not heard you mention them much outside of that."

She chuckled sheepishly. "Well... all right... they're not as important to me as they are to her—the priest. I don't agree with much in the Qun, and I'm not comfortable with their presence here, but it's true that this is not the most important issue in Kirkwall to me personally."

Anders and Varric smirked knowingly at each other, having been told the truth already.

"Then—" Fenris began to ask.

Caitlyn took a deep breath. "This is why I wanted all of you to come today. I need to be honest with you about what I'm trying to do, because you are my friends, and you have the right to decide for yourselves if you want to be a part of it. I won't hold it against you if you want to stay out of it, but you still deserve to know. The fact is..." She steeled herself. "I have aligned with Petrice because she wants to be Grand Cleric of Kirkwall, replacing Elthina, and I want that too because my ambition is to get Viscount Dumar to resign and to replace him myself. And I would need a powerful ally in the Chantry for that to be possible. And... yes, Fenris... the main reason I want to do this is because I want to reform the Circles. At least, this Circle. Petrice is extremely zealous against the Qun, but she's moderate about mages. Maybe more than moderate."

Fenris was gazing stonily at her as she explained her ambition and her rationale for it. Caitlyn was afraid of this reaction; he had, after all, been "owned" by a magister in a country where mages had all the political power in every institution, the Chantry included. She knew he was not going to take this without at least some resistance. She just hoped he understood that she was not like the Tevinters and had no intention of acting in any way like them.

"I want to protect my family, Fenris," she said. "My family and friends... and other good mages. We do exist. Anders and I don't want to be torn from each other again. We don't want our son taken from us. We can raise him and teach him how to control his magic and use it safely. We should have the right to do that openly and without fear." Her voice was becoming very emotional, she realized; it was thickening and becoming deeper. Noticing this, Anders moved closer to her. He draped one arm around her back and took her hand with his other, rubbing her palm and the back of her hand soothingly. All of his attention was devoted to her; none of it was hostility toward Fenris, and she was grateful for that too. She gave him a tender, watery-eyed smile and continued.

"I don't want to do anything like what you suffered through. I don't want to make Kirkwall back into Emerius. What happened to you is horrible, and your experiences are important, Fenris... but so are mine." She gazed beseechingly at him, observing that his visage was softening as she spoke. "My father and sister never hurt anyone. He raised us and taught us himself... he taught Anders a bit too... and Anders and I just want to do the same, and we want other mages to have that chance too. And when mage children don't have anyone who can train them, there is a place for a school like the Circle... but it doesn't have to be this way, families separated for life, people locked indoors, kept from helping others or living normal lives, and children growing up in terror of being killed or turned into emotionless puppets."

Fenris sighed heavily. "I will likely always fear magic," he confessed, "but you are different from the mages I knew in Tevinter. You have been... a friend to me, the first mage I've known who has treated me as an equal. And it would have been hard to fight against the Qunari... until I learned that they knowingly allowed a weapon of mass destruction, as you put it, to escape their compound because they apparently believed the 'bas' were too incompetent to actually make it." He leaned back, gazing at the ceiling for a moment, before sitting upright again and gazing out at his friends. "Years ago, a small group of Qunari... hosted me. They took care of me, and I killed them, because I was what Danarius had made me. I have felt guilty about that ever since."

"I didn't know," Caitlyn said in a whisper. She felt a gentle touch around her waist as Anders wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"It's true. This is the true evil of the magisters' slavery, Hawke—I had no reason to do it, but I did what I knew he would have wanted me to do. I've hated myself for it ever since. And yet... later, I learned more about the Qun, and I realized that it too takes away freedom."

She nodded. "I don't want to become Viscountess for power, Fenris—not really. Not power for its own sake, or power to oppress. I want to do it for the sake of freedom."

"I can respect and support that," he said, the ghost of a smile forming on his face.


A few days later.

Caitlyn stood in the back of the crowd that had gathered in the Lowtown marketplace. She clutched Anders' hand as he tried to distract Mal, but it was almost impossible.

"They have seated themselves in our city, occupying an extremely well-fortified building the likes of which so few of us could ever dream to live in—freely gifted to their Arishok by the Viscount!" proclaimed Petrice, her voice carrying across the crowd, which roared in indignation in response, exactly as she had intended.

"Wasn't that the same Viscount that the Knight-Commander wanted?" said someone at the front of the crowd loudly.

Petrice paused for a moment to let the group hear and contemplate it. "It is true," she said. "And a terrible shame it is that she commands a force of armed, trained warriors, but will not authorize them to fight the Qunari. Why, I do not know. But there are those among us who approve of the Qunari, perhaps in part because of how they treat the mages among their race. Perhaps some among us would try to do the same!"

Just nail the flag to the mast, why don't you? Caitlyn thought as she listened to this. Petrice was flirting dangerously with open sedition. She knew the woman was incapable of subtlety, but she hoped that this did not blow up in Petrice's face—and thereby hers.

"But none who truly know about the Qun should support it!" she continued, her voice rising again as she raised a clenched fist in the air. "I do not believe that those who seek to convert do so with the full knowledge of what they are doing. The Qunari offer freedom but deliver chains. Our fine Captain of the Guard is a woman, but they would take her sword and shield away from her, as well as from any woman among you who is a knight or a soldier. What the Qunari do force their women to do is not fit for your children's ears, my friends—but I will say this much: Your wives, your husbands, your sweethearts, even your brothers, sisters, and children—all of these relationships will be broken apart if we fall to this invasion! You will be forced to abjure your belief in the Maker and Our Lady Andraste, and if you refuse, you will not be given a martyr's death. Instead they will force their 'qamek' into your mouths!"

Numerous weapons were raised to the sky at these words. Caitlyn knew that what the priest was saying was factually correct, but it seemed very much as if Petrice was inciting violence and knew it. The sight of so many blades raised made Caitlyn feel sick. If the Arishok heard about this rally... His words came back to her mind yet again: The Qun will demand an accounting. What he had meant was that he would "demand an accounting," and as a military man, he likely meant in blood.

Someone near the front of the crowd was shouting, but Caitlyn could not hear the words because of the rumble of noise between the front and the back where she stood with her family. Petrice, however, could. A dark smile formed on the priest's face. "You do wish to know about the role of certain women in the Qun, then," she said. "I warn you—cover your children's ears. This is a heresy far viler than anything they could hear even from the lowest criminals of the city." At that, she launched into a blood-curdling description of the duties of Tamassrans, pausing for emotional effect with every sentence.

Caitlyn was torn. The idea of being ordered to share her body and her womb with whomever the ruler demanded was nauseating to her, even worse than the way that Qunari mages were treated. Even if these women had never known anything else, that did not mean that it was not rape. And yet, to hear the priest—her ally—speak this way, riling up an angry mob, was also deeply and profoundly uncomfortable to her.

She turned to look at Mal and Anders, who was staring at the crowd with a look of disdain and alarm on his face. "We need to go home," he said, holding his son's hand firmly. "We don't need to hear this. And... I need to talk with you about something."

I bet I know what, she thought as they began to head back.


"You are empowering a demagogue," Anders accused that evening when they were alone. Fear filled his face.

Yes, Caitlyn thought, I am. She knew it was true; she too had been chilled by the sight of Petrice inciting her audience to yell in anger. But what alternative did she have? Elthina had to go, and there was no one else emerging as a potential leader who took their side on the Circles. It would ultimately be up to her to prevent her clerical ally from going too far. Didn't Anders trust that she could do that? As soon as the possibility occurred to her that he might not, she decided to turn the remark back on him. "This, from the person with a literal, written manifesto," she rejoined, though her voice was a bit shaky and a little too light.

He gave her a level look that suggested that he knew exactly what she was doing, but otherwise ignored that reply. "Let's suppose you get everything you want. Her as Grand Cleric of Kirkwall, yourself as Viscountess, the Circle in this city opened up, the Templars backing off harmless apostates. What is she going to do when there are no more Qunari in Kirkwall to rile up crowds against? Who will be her foil then? Demagogues always need one."

"If you're implying that you think it will be mages, she's not going to bite the hand that fed her."

"You're very confident of that!"

"The time for her to align with Meredith is past," Caitlyn said. "Meredith wouldn't trust her now and she knows that. Her lot is cast with me. If I do get what I want, then she'll have her foil in reactionary opponents of the reforms. Anders," she said, taking his hands and gazing into his face, "the only principle she has is her belief in the Chant of Light and her interpretation of what it means. Beyond that, she wants power—but that's all right, because it means she will double down on the reforms once the reactionaries start to come out of the woodwork. She'll know she has to have people who support the reforms in order to stay in power—especially me."

"You say she 'believes in the Chant of Light,' but Caitlyn, she is a zealot. Maybe she agrees with you, mostly, about mages, and maybe you're right about what she'll do on that subject, but she wants the Qunari gone because to her they are 'heretics.' You want them to go home because the Qun is antithetical to personal freedom, and so do I, but not everyone shares our reasons. Please, please remember that," he pleaded. "She may well agree with us about the Circles, but she still thinks people who have different beliefs from hers are heretics, and the fact that she agrees with us on one thing doesn't change that. Once the Qunari are gone, whom might she look at next? There is a Dalish clan on the Sundermount..." he hinted darkly.

A shudder passed down Caitlyn's back at these words. That was a very good point. Although she did believe her own words that Petrice was not going to backstab them over Circle reform, she was much less confident that the priest would let the neighboring Dalish alone if she became Grand Cleric, and harassment of the clan was unacceptable. Even leaving aside her friendship with Merrill, a foreign military unit with a totalitarian philosophy was one thing, but a close-knit clan who kept to themselves and believed harmlessly in their own ancient faith was quite another.

"You're right," she said in a low voice. "That's a legitimate worry." She moved closer to him, sighing, and gazed at him with a look of sincerity. "I will protect the Dalish if I become Viscountess. I will grant the Sundermount to the clan. Humans don't live there and I don't think it belongs to any noble. I'll deed the mountain to them in exchange for their defending it against raiders, bandits, and dangerous beasts. That way Kirkwall would benefit too." I'll have to give something to the Chantry in a deal like that, she realized, but I'll work that detail out later.

Anders studied her for a moment. "I hope you succeed, that you're right, and that everything you're talking about doing works," he said. "I mean that. I do. But... is this truly about mages now, or is it about 'Viscountess Hawke'?"

Caitlyn was startled by the blunt question—and a bit uncomfortable, now that he laid it out like that. "They are one and the same," she replied, her words a bit shaky. "Ever since I had this ambition, it was about protecting our family and improving the lives of mages. But... yes... now that I've truly begun to pursue the ambition, I'm thinking about other things I can do with that kind of power to help Kirkwall."

He sighed, pulling her close, which she freely permitted and welcomed. His embrace was warm and comforting, exactly what she needed after the disturbing events of the past week. "I know. It's who you are," he said. "I trust you."

"And I have you and a spirit of Justice with me," she said with a smile. "If I do slip, I know you'll help me find my footing again."