Notes: Song is "Head Like a Hole" by Nine Inch Nails.


Chapter 36: You're Going To Get What You Deserve


Caitlyn and Anders' celebration of Elthina's downfall that evening proved unfortunately premature. By the following day, the word on the street was very different: Prince Sebastian—not Brother Sebastian, the couple noted with some alarm, but Prince—was adamant that the note that everyone had thought proved Elthina's treason must have been forged by the Qunari spy who produced it, and he had needled and lobbied Viscount Dumar with this argument for hours. The "fake note," as Elthina and Sebastian were calling it, suddenly had turned into a hotly contested and controversial document overnight.

She has the right to make that argument at her trial, Caitlyn thought. Even accused traitors have the right to defend themselves at trial—though mages sure don't! But this could be a disaster if Sebastian manages to convince Kirkwall that we reacted too fast. Elthina has been around for years. People will believe what is easier to believe, and a forgery claim may make it easier for people to think that she is innocent. The Arishok's decree for Tallis looks terrible, but it only confirmed the assassination plot, not Elthina's actions.

"Fake note" was a very insidious term, Caitlyn realized, and despite its childish simplicity, quite effective—because once she heard it repeated enough, she began to question the provenance of the note herself. Could Petrice have forged it? she thought. She would know what Elthina's handwriting looked like. She confided this dark worry to Anders at lunch that day.

"From a purely practical standpoint, I actually don't care if she did do it," Caitlyn said, "so long as it works. And that's the question now."

He pondered this. "I'm not sure that she would have had the time. She had a rally that day, then she dispatched Varnell to stop the Qunari, and after that, she went to that house in Lowtown to wait for you. When would she have had the time to forge a note in Elthina's hand so carefully that it fooled everyone and pass it to a messenger? And there must have been a messenger... unless Tallis herself was posing as one and lied."

"And if she had been, why wouldn't she have told us that Petrice gave her the note? She isn't loyal to Petrice," Caitlyn said, thinking aloud. "You're right. And thanks so much for reminding me—of course there is a way to prove all of this. But we need to find that messenger. Even if he doesn't know what was in the original note, or that Tallis switched it, he can confirm the rest of Tallis's story and that Elthina gave him the note herself. At that point, doubters would have to claim that he conspired with Tallis to frame her."

"Do you think this messenger will actually come forward, though? If this person knows who sent and received the note, it seems unlikely."

She sighed. "Unfortunately, she probably did use someone loyal to her, but I'm still going to try to find out."

Anders forced a smile on his face, but he was still worried. "Please be careful, then."


Petrice was in an extremely black mood when Caitlyn conferred with her later that day—not to ask her if she had written the note herself, but to plot their next move.

"We have a saying in Orlais: 'If you aim for the Empress, you had best not miss,'" the priest said dourly. "I think it applies to the Grand Cleric too. If she wins this, she will likely strip me of my title of priest. And..." She closed her lips, apparently unwilling to speak of what might happen to Caitlyn.

Caitlyn shuddered at what was unspoken but refused to dwell on it. Petrice seemed strangely resigned to her own possible fate, though. "You seem awfully passive about that possibility," Caitlyn ventured.

"I do not want to lose the Game. So much depends on my—our—winning. But someone must lose, and the Game is not won based on who is factually correct or morally superior, Hawke."

Maker's flaming breath, I'm glad I wasn't raised in Orlais, Caitlyn thought. What a culture! Even a zealous true believer is philosophical and resigned about "losing the Game." Aloud she said, "Then we must ensure that we win. I have a plan. There is no way to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Elthina wrote that note, but I do think that most of the doubts her pet prince has been sowing can be erased if the messenger can be found and made to talk."

The priest agreed. "That would turn the tide back in our favor, no question about it. Maker guide you in your search."

At first glance the words seemed almost blasphemous under these circumstances, but as Caitlyn headed into town to find the Templar Ser Thrask, she realized that maybe they weren't after all.


"Serah Hawke!" Thrask exclaimed when she found him patrolling in Lowtown near the docks. He glanced quickly around, then ducked into a shadowy alley with her. "You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" she said, suddenly alarmed. "Are you being watched?"

"Meredith is on a paranoid rampage after the accusation against Elthina yesterday. You would not believe... the Templar quarters this morning, her behavior... I was truly frightened by the way she acted. She almost seemed... possessed... or falling into lyrium sickness early. This is not a good day to be a known opponent of theirs."

"There is no mad behavior Meredith could engage in that would surprise me. And I've gathered that it's not a great day to be her foe—but I'm here to try to make it a better day, in fact," she said tartly.

He fell silent, listening intently.

"Do you know whom Elthina used to pass messages to the Keep?" Caitlyn asked. "Specifically, whom she used to pass a note on the day that my friends and I marched the Qunari delegates through Lowtown?"

Thrask seemed uncomfortable speaking.

"Ser Thrask," Caitlyn said impatiently, "this is important. Elthina is likely to convince the people of Kirkwall that the Qunari agent forged the letter in her hand unless that person comes forward."

He glanced around quickly once again and answered in a low voice. "Ser Keran," he said. "He was the Templar recruit..."

"The one who was under the influence of a demon a few years ago while in a blood mage's custody," she recalled. There had been an incident with a group of blood mages who were trying to force demons to possess Templars, to prove that they too could be made into abominations, and Keran had been the only survivor. The Knight-Captain, a Fereldan named Cullen Rutherford, still did not trust him after that.

Thrask nodded. "He became a Templar last year over Cullen's objections. I thought little of it... but now, knowing what I do..."

"Do you think he is being blackmailed? I don't suppose I need to say by whom," she muttered.

"I think it's possible."

She nodded. "Talk to him. No, Ser Thrask, it needs to be you," she said as he looked to object. "I can't do this, nor can any of my friends or allies. We need him to testify that the Grand Cleric passed him a note that day if it did happen, and his testimony will look tainted if we produce him. This is a matter of the security and future of Kirkwall. You need to show courage once again on this and so does he."

Thrask took a deep breath and nodded.


Anders and Mal would still be at the clinic in Darktown, so while Thrask talked to Keran to try to get him to come forward, Caitlyn decided to stop by the Hanged Man and attempt to calm her nerves with her friends. The pub was rather quiet; it was still only mid-afternoon, and Caitlyn and Varric found a table in a side room with no one else there without any trouble.

"Do you need me to spread any rumors for the cause?" Varric offered.

Caitlyn laughed. "I appreciate the offer, Varric, but we're trying to deal with truth in this instance. No offense!"

He smirked back. "None taken. You've got a countermove in progress, then?"

She nodded. "We know who the messenger is. Well, I do. And Ser Thrask. It's a question of whether he'll come forward, though. The messenger, I mean."

"Oh, if he's been found out, he'll come forward eventually. That's good news. I'm glad."

His gaze was suddenly drawn by movement on the stairs, away from her. She turned to see what he was looking at and raised her eyebrows in surprise—and satisfaction—as Isabela stared back from the landing of the second floor, caught at last and aware of it.

"Isabela," Varric said, "why don't you join us? All this time we thought you were about town, but here you were, in your room, all along—and alone, it seems!" He smirked. "Though that's good news for Fenris."

Isabela gazed blankly at them for a moment, but finally, seeing that there was no way to avoid it, took a deep breath and walked downstairs.

Caitlyn tried to keep her countenance and not antagonize Isabela from the beginning. She fully intended to get her pirate friend to confess to what was going on at last, and Isabela clearly realized it as she sat down and ordered the strongest liquor that the place carried.

"We haven't seen much of you lately," Caitlyn began, fingering the rim of her own glass. "I was starting to think you were avoiding us."

"Hawke," Isabela said, looking down at the table, her voice strangely quiet and calm, "don't play games. Just... don't."

Startled, Caitlyn reconsidered her approach. Isabela seemed resigned to the talk, and if that were the case, then there really wasn't anything to be gained by cat-and-mouse forced phrasings. "All right," she agreed at once in normal tones. "But I really do wish you would confide in us. It's about the Qunari, isn't it? You're hiding from them for some reason."

Isabela stared miserably at the tabletop.

"Isa," said Caitlyn, leaning forward, "you're not protecting me by keeping it from me. You know I'm neck-deep in this business now, don't you? With all the news in town lately? I appreciate your intent, that you want to protect me as a friend from this problem you're having with them, but I'm not protected."

The pirate took a deep breath and let it out. "Oh, fuck it. Fine. You are neck-deep in it, so I guess you might as well get all the way in." She took a long pull from her glass, even as Caitlyn and Varric widened their eyes, and set it back down. "Where to even begin? I guess... all right. I wasn't shipwrecked in the storm. I could've made it through that. I know how to handle storms. The tropical seas get ferocious storms that don't form in these waters."

Caitlyn realized at once what must have happened. "You... were attacked by the Qunari dreadnought?"

Isabela nodded.

"And their cannon... their explosive black powder..."

"My ship stood no chance against that."

"Maker," Caitlyn swore under her breath. "I've heard that their ships have weapons that can blow holes through the sides of other vessels, but that's still very frightening to think of."

"I was scared shitless."

"Why were they pursuing you? Do you have a past with the Qunari? Were you Qunari once, unwillingly, of course?" She could hardly imagine it, but the Qun did have adherents in Rivain. "Or had you taken something of theirs?"

Isabela's features were forming a smirk as Caitlyn enunciated all of the possibilities. She let out a dark chuckle—

The determined barking of a Fereldan mabari interrupted the conversation.

Caitlyn was momentarily frustrated; despite Isabela's apparent willingness to talk, the pirate's features lifted in relief when the dog showed up. But this moment of frustration did not last. It was odd for Baldwin to show up like this without anyone else.

"What's the matter, boy?" she asked, scratching his ears. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Varric rose from his seat. "We'd probably better go to your house."

The dog barked.

"Is that it, Baldwin?" she asked, reaching for her staff, which she had propped up unobtrusively in a dark corner. She was about to sling it over her back when the dog growled and latched onto it with his jaws, not enough to damage it, but clearly trying to tug it away from her.

"What in the..."

Baldwin pulled the mage's staff away from his mistress and dropped it on the floor. He stepped in front of it and barked again.

She scowled at him. "Baldwin! Bad dog! You know better than to take my staves from me..."

Varric had loaded his mechanical crossbow onto his back and was gazing at the mabari thoughtfully—and with concern. "Hawke? I'd trust the dog."

"Meredith is on a paranoid rampage," Caitlyn suddenly recalled that Thrask had said. With that memory, panic flooded her. "We have to go!" she cried. "The Knight-Commander—I heard that she's lost it today—Anders is a Warden, but Mal—" At that thought, which didn't even bear finishing aloud, she glanced at the staff even as Isabela was grabbing it up and darting up to her own room to store it. She had other staves at home, but going out to face enemies without a staff felt like cutting off her own hand. It was terrifying.

Varric sensed her unease. "Hey," he said reassuringly, "we've got your back. Blondie can carry staves openly, too, so he'll have one at hand. And I promise, I won't let the Rivaini keep that one."

She managed a sharp, bleak laugh as her friends and dog left with her.


Caitlyn's heart continued to pound as she approached the doorstep. As she drew near, she heard raised voices through the front door.

"Get out of our house. You've long overstayed your welcome."

"How dare you speak to me thus? Mind your tone with me, Warden."

"I don't have to grovel and defer to you. You are not the Viscountess—and you never will be!"

"That's what is going on with Hawke, isn't it? Where is she? Tell me where she is and I'll be on my way to find her."

"I told you, I don't know where she is—and if I did, I wouldn't tell you, since you still have not said what you want with her!"

Me, Caitlyn thought as she turned the doorknob. Anders is talking about me. But he is all right, and if he's aggressively challenging someone about me, it must mean that Mal is all right too. Who is there? A woman... could it be—

She stepped inside, Varric and Isabela flanking her, Baldwin in front. Anders and Meredith Stannard were standing barely a foot away from each other in front of the fireplace, both of them livid. In one of the doorways stood Leandra, and Mal was clinging to his grandmother's skirts, trembling.

Anders whirled around, unvarnished terror in his eyes—until he noticed that Caitlyn was not carrying a staff. His expression relaxed immediately.

"Knight-Commander," Caitlyn said, ice in her tone as she stepped inside. She walked across the room to Anders and pointedly pecked him on the cheek for the Templar's benefit. He breathed heavily, clearly wanting to do more and to talk to her, but aware that she had to fend for herself right now.

"Hawke," Meredith barked.

Caitlyn turned aside from Anders and faced the Templar coldly. "I heard the last part of that. Since I am the person you wanted to see, but you would not tell my family what you wanted, tell me now that I am here."

Meredith looked almost too angry to speak. Caitlyn supposed that she had been deliberately provocative, and Anders had certainly had heated words with her, but she realized that Ser Thrask was right. She had never seen the woman looking this furious or crazed before. Her face was deathly white and her eyes were actually bloodshot with rage, the tiny blood vessels almost seeming to glow red. Whatever Anders had said, it surely wouldn't have enraged her this much on its own if she was still at the house.

At last Meredith managed to calm herself enough to talk. "I was interested in your whereabouts."

"So I heard. For what?"

Meredith breathed deeply, exhaling in anger. "No matter. I changed my mind." Without another word, she strode to the front door, walked out, and slammed it.

Caitlyn gaped at Anders as he relaxed and Mal rushed forward to hug her. Baldwin let out a happy yip and bounded in circles around his family and his mistress's two friends. She was upset and angry to realize that Mal was very frightened and clung to her waist tightly.

When they were all certain that Meredith was gone and that no one could hear from the outside, she spoke, still keeping her voice low. "I assume she was waiting for me to show up with a staff in hand so that she could arrest me in front of all of you for maximum cruelty."

Anders collapsed on the sofa, pulling her into his arms beside him, a sob escaping him. "I think she was," he said. His hands stroked her shoulders as if reassuring himself that she was still with him. "I thought you went out with one, in fact. I was terrified that you would show up with it and I'd have to invoke the Right of Conscription immediately, and that she might still argue..."

She smiled at the dog, who was now lying at her feet next to Pounce. "You can thank him for the fact that I didn't. He came into the Hanged Man and tugged it right out of my hand. It's in Isabela's room right now."

"Smart boy," Anders said, scratching Baldwin's head, a look of surprise on his own face at the fact that he was on such good terms with a dog.

Caitlyn hugged Mal closely. "And you kept your magic a secret! I'm so proud."

He gazed up at his parents bravely. "I know I have to. I've known as long as I can remember—even before I knew I had magic. I had to keep yours a secret from strangers and especially Templars, Mother. And now mine. I don't want any of us to be taken away like Father was."

She muffled a cry and felt tears fill her eyes. "You won't have to forever," she whispered, hugging him. "I promise you won't. But you must until your father and I tell you it's all right."

Anders spoke up quietly. "For now, his age still protects him. Even though people know he has, at a minimum, a mage father and a mage grandfather on his mother's side—and Meredith suspects that you are too—it's very unusual for a six-and-a-half-year-old to have active magic. Even if Meredith assumes he is a mage, even she can't haul away a child unless she can prove it." He sighed. "In three or four years, people will start to assume that he has shown magic and that we're hiding it."

"But Mother is going to keep her promise," Mal told his father. "It'll be all right then."

"Yes," Caitlyn said, giving him a final hug.

Leandra spoke up. "There is magic in the Amell family too, and this is known in Kirkwall, though people don't speak of it anymore."

Caitlyn raised her eyebrows at her mother as Mal wriggled free of his parents. "I remember that you mentioned that once... a cousin..."

"My first cousin Revka. Her firstborn son was the mage. I didn't find out about it until years later, of course... I think he would be two or three years younger than you, Caitlyn... but I heard that the Templars hauled him through the streets of Hightown with his mother sobbing behind him."

Caitlyn glanced sharply at Leandra, reprimanding her with her eyes. Leandra realized at once how bad that was right now. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I didn't think... no, it shall never happen again, as you promised him." She turned to her grandson apologetically. "Don't mind what I said. Times are going to change, Mal."

Although Mal was certainly not as innocent as he had once been, he still had the optimistic faith of a happy child, and he nodded, placated. He scrambled to the floor, then darted up the stairs to his bedroom. As Caitlyn turned back from observing his running, a smile still on her face at how positive he was, she noticed that Anders was struck silent, a look of horror on his visage.

"What's the matter?" she asked him as Leandra rose from her seat to go to the kitchen to help Orana. "Was it what my mother said? She might have heard wrong. She wasn't here when it happened."

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I'll tell you later."

"I'm not happy that they took away my second cousin, but once I have the power to restrict Meredith and open up the Circle, I'm sure I'll get the chance to meet him at last," she said.

Anders blanched and turned aside. "I... need to go back to the clinic."


Caitlyn did not have the chance that evening to find out what Anders was disturbed about, because when Varric came by to return the staff to her, taking the passage through Darktown rather than carrying it in the street even in the shadows of night, he had more news as well.

"I've heard from our mutual pal Thrask that the messenger is going to talk tomorrow," he remarked to Caitlyn and Anders in the living room.

"Oh, good," she said. "That's a relief, after what Meredith pulled today."

"You know she's not going to change her spots just because there is a new Grand Cleric," the dwarf warned.

"I know. She's likely to become even more dangerous, just in a sneaky way. But at least she won't have as much legal power over us anymore. It's odd... I hate it, I've realized... but I can handle the Game. I think I've done all right lately with it. So if that's what Meredith has to do, I can counter that."

Late that night, when she and Anders were finally in bed, he seemed disinclined to explain what had upset him earlier. "Not tonight," he whispered to her, running his hands up her sides as he buried his face in the space between her neck and left shoulder. He breathed in, inhaling the scent of her hair—caramel and a tiny hint of musk, he decided, must be the fragrance of what she used to clean it. It was spicy and warm, like her, he thought. "I don't want to think about anything else right now." He kissed her deeply.

She realized that he was obviously trying to bury himself in her, metaphorically—soon literally, she thought with a smirk on her face—in order to banish the terror he had felt earlier today, the stress of the whiplash about the Grand Cleric's treason trial, and whatever dark memory had surfaced when her mother had mentioned relatives. As he continued his ministrations, and she began to return them, she decided that she understood perfectly.


Viscount Dumar had clearly been among those who had allowed Sebastian's "forged note" explanation to worm its way into their minds the previous day. He was even more upset by the audience that Ser Keran had with him than he had been with the reveal of the incriminating note, because it did not appear that there could be any plausible explanation other than treason for what Keran would say. The comfortable illusion of the day before was shattering. Dumar wrung his hands, fidgeted, and sweated as he awaited the young Templar. Beside him were Caitlyn, Anders, Sebastian Vael, and Meredith Stannard—who clearly still loathed the very presence of her nemeses. Elthina herself was not attending, as Keran's testimony would be made again at her trial if the Viscount deemed it credible. But Caitlyn thought, and Anders agreed vehemently, that it hardly mattered that she was absent; Sebastian and Meredith would tell her exactly what had transpired and give her time to mount another defense, if it were still possible. It was another example of the grotesque incompetence of the secular authority and the monumental corruption of Kirkwall, they agreed.

Caitlyn noticed that Anders' face transformed into a hostile glower when Knight-Captain Cullen appeared in the courtroom of the Keep, escorting Ser Keran beside him. She recalled that Cullen had once served in the Fereldan Circle, and Anders had told her that he had been extremely afraid of magic and of his charges. She wondered if there might be more that she did not know about. In any case, Cullen at least seemed to be giving Keran another chance; the look on his face was a mix of disappointed sadness and pride.

"At least he seems to have confidence in Keran now," she said in an undertone to Anders.

He scoffed, though his contempt was not directed at her and she knew that. "Yes, he's evolved enough to accept that a Templar who was captured by blood mages isn't too contaminated to live. Let's give him a medal, shall we? Maybe in ten years, he'll even consider one or two mages people..."

She hushed him as the two Templars reached the table where everyone sat.

"Ser Keran," began the Viscount, "thank you so much for coming today. I understand that you have important evidence to give on this dreadful matter of Grand Cleric Elthina..." He broke off, still shaking his head in disbelief.

Keran gulped. "Yes, Your Grace," he said. He took a deep breath. "I heard the accusations against the Grand Cleric, and I remembered... well, I shouldn't say 'remembered.' The day a week or so ago, when Serah Hawke and her people brought the Qunari through town after, I guess, thwarting their attempt on Your Grace's life... I was the Grand Cleric's courier that day, but it wasn't the first time."

Dumar turned feebly to Caitlyn. "Serah," he said to her, "if you don't mind, I am not feeling great right now. You will be stronger and more effective, I'm sure," he said.

Caitlyn did not doubt that for a second. She only wished she had a larger audience for this... though perhaps it was for the best that no one she sought to cultivate or impress saw the Viscount's attempt to associate her with him and treat her as one of his functionaries. "Go on," she said to the young Templar in an encouraging tone. "Elthina had you deliver messages to someone in the Keep before, you mean?"

Keran frowned. "Well—not to 'someone,' exactly, though I'm sure that the intended person got them eventually. I was always instructed to drop these notes into a certain vase in the Keep and then leave. It was the same that day."

Caitlyn cursed inwardly, and she could tell that Anders was disappointed too. She had hoped that Keran would be able to implicate the other conspirator, the other traitor, but it seemed that Elthina had been too clever.

Cullen spoke up. "And why did you do this without ever telling anyone about it?" he said roughly. "Did you not think anything was strange about such instructions?"

Keran looked down at the table, then back up at the Knight-Captain, avoiding the gaze of Meredith Stannard, Caitlyn noted. "Ser, she told me—the Grand Cleric, that is—that if I ever did, she would have me sent to the Templar hospice in Val Royeaux. No Templars ever come out alive. She said it was for the... incident... three years ago with those blood mages and the demon."

Cullen looked horrified and guilty. Emboldened by the fact that the man who had condemned him seemed to regret that, Keran continued. "I am willing to take the oath on the Chant of Light that no demons bother me in my dreams or otherwise," he said. "I was never possessed. Just being affected by a demon doesn't mean that someone has to go to that place."

Cullen gulped. "I... suppose not." The guilt and consciousness on his face heightened.

"So, this had been going on for several months," Keran said, "the notes from the Grand Cleric, the vase in the Keep. That day, the day of the Qunari visit, seemed like any other. Her Grace said nothing about extra urgency, so I didn't think much of it when I stepped into the pub for a drink and the elf was there. She was pretty and friendly. I had no idea she was a Qunari spy."

Sebastian finally spoke up. "The spy claimed that she switched the note you carried with a decoy. Did you put the decoy into this vase after you woke up from your drunken sleep?"

Keran glowered back at the prince for the disdain in this question. "No, Your Grace, I did not," he said defiantly. "The Keep was closed after that, due to the threat. I actually still have the decoy note with me. I brought it today." He rummaged under his breastplate and withdrew a folded note, which he handed to Caitlyn.

She opened it and spread it on the table. With shaking hands, Viscount Dumar presented the note that Tallis had given them. Everyone at the table peered over to look.

Keran's note had been written to attempt to ape Elthina's handwriting, but the result was poor. The letters were forced, too intense and heavy, and shaky in places, obviously the work of someone inexperienced with forgery who was focusing too hard.

"There we have it," Caitlyn said. "The spy did try to forge a note—the one she gave Ser Keran, not the other one—but she didn't do a good job of it. The writing is too different for the notes to have been written by the same person, and Keran's account matches with what Tallis said. The long note is real, and Elthina wrote it. I think," she said ominously, "that this is ready for trial."

Sebastian drew back, glowering. "I see this very differently! The fact that one note was definitely forged to look like Elthina's hand means that the other note remains suspicious! Perhaps this elf, this Tallis, deliberately did a poor job on the note that she gave this young Templar in order to deceive others about her forgery skills."

Caitlyn gave him a level stare. "Prince Sebastian, why would a Qunari spy care about framing the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall? What would she have against Elthina to do what you're suggesting?"

"The Qunari benefit if the Chantry is in chaos," he protested.

"The Chantry will not be 'in chaos,'" said Caitlyn. "And furthermore, we have to consider the Arishok's decree as evidence. Why would Tallis concoct some elaborate scheme, which involved confirming an assassination plot by her own people, and which resulted in her being exiled from the Qun she professes? Why would she do that just to take Elthina down? She wouldn't."

"I cannot believe this of Elthina. She is a holy woman. What she has been to me..."

"This isn't about you."

He sucked in his breath and drew himself up haughtily. "I will not believe this of her. I have known her for years, and she would never plot against the Viscount in order to seize power for herself!"

Anders did not even try to conceal his scoff. This only enraged the prince. He glared at the blond mage and rose from his seat. "I take my leave—and I have made a decision, too. I am going to claim my birthright, the crown of Starkhaven, for the glory of the Chantry and the true teachings of Andraste." With that, he stormed from the room.

Meredith glowered at Keran and then turned to Cullen. "Escort him back to the Gallows and show him to his quarters, Knight-Captain." She gave a curt nod to the Viscount, no acknowledgment whatever to Caitlyn or Anders, and rose from her seat as well, followed closely by a conflicted-looking Cullen and a very frightened Keran.

He knows he can turn to Ser Thrask, Caitlyn thought as the young man was steered away. At least there is that. He knows he can confide in one person in that place. I hope Meredith doesn't punish him for telling the truth, but I cannot help everyone.

Dumar's clothing was soaked with sweat, and he was on the verge of weeping from the evidence that he could not deny. Finally he remembered that others were still there. He turned to the couple. "Thank you so much for presiding, Serah Hawke," he said to Caitlyn. "This is... difficult... but the facts can't be denied, and we shall do what we must."


Aveline was waiting outside the office for them. "I have had a request from the prisoner Tallis to see you," she said. "You specifically, Hawke, though obviously, you can let Anders come if you wish."

Caitlyn scowled. "What does she want to say to me? I have no influence with the Arishok to get her reinstated as Qunari, and I wouldn't even if I could."

"I don't think that's it. If she just wants to hurl abuse at you, of course you don't have to listen to that, and I don't advise it. Let's just see what she says."

Tallis was slumped in her cell. She seemed to be brooding. When they reached the cell, she got to her feet and glared at Caitlyn and Anders—though most of her ire was reserved for Caitlyn.

"I hope you're satisfied," she said. Her voice still had a petulant streak, but it was much gloomier and bitterer now. "I heard what will apparently become of the priest. Perhaps she deserves her fate, but did I, Hawke?"

"You tried to involve me in espionage and Maker knows what else under false pretense. Probably murder too, by the end, if I'd let you trick me. Serious crimes against someone who will be my host, who used to invite my mother's family as guests and will also be hosting several of my allies, and for a cause that I do not support. Yes, Tallis, I think you deserve this. At least you will have your life," she added. "You know what the penalty for high treason is."

"Do I have my life?" she said bleakly. "I have been cast out of the Qun. I am nothing now. They have the right to slay me on sight. How many lives are you going to destroy to get what you want, Hawke?"

The dream that she had the night before she went to slay Corypheus returned to her mind. A heavy diadem, dripping with blood...

Anders spoke up, shaking that vision from her mind. "Do not speak to her of destroyed lives," he snarled fiercely. "You do not know what we've suffered. You don't know and you don't care, so your shaming means nothing." He took a deep, angry breath, allowing Caitlyn to regain her power of speech.

"I have not destroyed your life or Elthina's," she said carefully. "You tried to trick me into your scheme, and Elthina committed treason. Yes, I wanted to replace her with a new Grand Cleric; I admit it. But the plan was to brand her as corrupt and ineffective and shame her into resigning. I didn't plan on this—but that does not mean that she doesn't have to answer for what she has done."

"You converted to the Qun for 'justice,' you said the other day," said Anders. "This is justice."

"I converted to the Qun because it gave my life meaning," said Tallis, "and I only ever wanted to make the world a better place... just like you two. I only wanted to help innocent people. Your idea of justice has denied me anything now but the life of a fugitive, if I'm ever allowed out at all."

Tallis's manner still irritated Caitlyn, but she realized that the elf meant what she was saying right now. Caitlyn tried to calm her mind before she spoke again. "I know this is going to ring hollow right now," she said, "but I hope you understand someday. If you're telling the truth about wanting to save lives, and this is not something your commanding officers cared about, then you put your ideals ahead of what your commander had deemed the best use of resources. You were already Tal-Vashoth in your heart, if this is the case." She took a breath. "Because the Qun isn't about 'helping innocent people.' It's about creating a rigid order at any cost to individuals. That is why I am against it, ultimately. There are specific, personal reasons too," she said, "which I won't share, but they all amount to that. And the person who wanted to save lives deemed too costly or unimportant to save, who confirmed an assassination plot by her own leader, also puts people ahead of that rigid, cold order."

She took Anders' hand, feeling his firm grip immediately, and turned away, leaving Tallis to her thoughts—or her anguish.


Later that afternoon, while Mal was busy studying age-appropriate magic books, Anders turned to Caitlyn. "I suppose this is as good a time as any. Seeing Cullen Rutherford reminded me of it."

"Reminded you of what?"

He took a deep breath. "This... is not going to make you happy, Caitlyn. Do you want to hear it right now?"

Suddenly alarmed, she stared at him. "Anders, did something else happen to you in that awful Circle? Did he ever hurt you?"

"No," Anders assured her. "And I'm not sure if he even had anything to do with... what I'm about to tell you. For that matter, I don't know exactly how this story ends, or if it has ended. I..." He sighed. "You remember yesterday that your mother mentioned having a cousin who had a mage child."

Caitlyn's face fell as she realized where he was going with this. "Oh, no," she said. "Are you about to tell me that he was in Ferelden?" He probably didn't survive the blood mage attack if so, she thought with a surge of despair.

Anders looked miserable. "I think he was," he said in a low voice. "I'm so, so sorry. I just didn't think, love. I... didn't put two and two together, because your mother was right; he was at least five years younger than I, and he didn't study healing, so I didn't see him that much. And I didn't think about your mother's maiden name much, to be honest. After I was taken back, I kept to myself because I was upset and depressed. Well, other than spending time with Karl, I kept to myself. I just didn't think of him. I'm so sorry..."

She gave him a hug at once. "Anders! This is not your fault! You couldn't have done anything to get him out..."

He returned the hug. "I know, but I still hate it. His name was Daylen, and when I last saw him, he was still an apprentice. They locked me up in my room for a year after that, and when I got out again, he was... gone. Along with..." He hesitated. "The reason that seeing Cullen brought this to mind is that he, your cousin, had two regular companions, to the best of my knowledge: a human named Jowan and an elf named Neria Surana. And Cullen had, in my opinion, an inappropriate interest in her. Never acted on it, that I know of, but I just think that's yet another abuse of power, to allow Templars to oversee mages that they..." He broke off angrily.

Caitlyn gave him a wry look. "Did you have an interest in her too?"

He chuckled. "Before I met you... yes. I think every male mage in the Tower did except Karl, and some of the women did too. She gave no man the time of day except her two male friends, though. I hope she and your cousin had something before... the end."

"What happened to them?" she asked, almost afraid to hear it, but she also knew that she had to know. "You said they were gone when you were let out of confinement."

His voice suddenly broke. "I don't know," he whispered. "What I heard later was that their other friend, Jowan, turned out to be a blood mage, and he used it to escape. I hope they all made it in that same escape, but I don't know." He took a shuddering breath. "And Jowan turned up in the Blight, I learned from the Wardens, involved in something pretty bad. The others were not with him." He gazed sadly at her. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to your cousin. I wish I did. And I wish I had more stories about him to share with you, but I just... didn't really know him."

She hugged him again, though she shared the sadness. "I don't blame you for any of this," she whispered. "As you said, you were several years older, you studied different things, and after you were taken back, of course you weren't thinking about making friends everywhere. But... whatever became of him, and the girl, I'm glad that you could tell me this much. Before you told me this, I knew nothing." She suppressed a sob.

He held her, unable to say a word in argument. It was all too true. Finally he said, "I could write to Ferelden, to the new mage Wardens, to see if they know anything. A few of them might be former Circle mages who fought in Denerim and later Joined. It's not very hopeful, I know, but I won't get a thing from the Circle itself. Do you want me to try?"

She nodded at once. "Yes. Definitely."


"Run! Faster! After them!"

Caitlyn and Anders were jerked abruptly out of the Fade by shouts on the street. A crowd of people had gathered outside near the Hawke mansion, it seemed. Her heart began to thump as her brain processed the words. Someone is running, she thought, getting to her feet and scampering toward the window with Anders following close by. A criminal or a gang, pursued by the Guard? She threw back the drapes and gazed down at the street.

Even in the darkness and from the second floor, it was clear that one of the people—the leader—was Aveline. She had her sword drawn, and several guards were darting to and fro nearby, looking very flustered.

"Don't shoot!" she shouted to one, who had a crossbow. "He is a prince!"

"Oh, Maker bugger Andraste up the—"

Anders' blasphemous swear was interrupted by Caitlyn's shriek of laughter. Even in the middle of the unfolding disaster—the nature of which was now unfortunately clear—she could manage a laugh. "You have a dirty mouth!" she exclaimed, pulling on a house dress quickly.

"You knew that," he said with a grin as he threw his coat on over his night clothes and began to tug his boots on.

As soon as they were garbed in enough clothes to be seen outside the house, they dashed downstairs. Leandra was awake too, as were Mal and Orana, but the matron and maid were not eager to go outside. Mal tried to pull away from his grandmother as his parents threw the door open, but her grip was too firm.

Aveline was furious as she directed her guards, but the look on her face indicated that it was hopeless. "Curse it all!" she exclaimed as Caitlyn and Anders approached.

"Sebastian," she said blackly. "And I assume that he also had Elthina."

"I'd like to know how he got her out of her cell!" Aveline exclaimed. "Either he knows how to pick locks, or someone collaborated with him!"

"He might know how to pick locks," offered Donnic Hendyr, Aveline's right hand—and, Caitlyn suspected, more than that, but she would not dare bring that up with her. "He lived a wild life for many years."

"I don't understand," Caitlyn said. "How did they escape so fast? Maybe he can run, but Elthina is an older woman..."

"He had a horse! We didn't stand a chance to pursue them."

"A horse in Kirkwall?" Caitlyn repeated. "But nobody..."

"He had one! I guess you get exceptions if you're a prince, even when you haven't claimed the crown."

"Which he is on his way to do," she said. She took a deep breath. "Since there obviously won't be a trial any time soon"—if ever, she thought dourly—"I might as well tell you. He got angry at the end, after Ser Keran gave his account and essentially proved that the note was not a forgery, and declared that he was going to take the crown of Starkhaven 'for the glory of the Chantry.'"

"This was in front of Viscount Dumar?" Aveline said, astonished.

"Yes, it was," Anders confirmed.

"And he didn't anticipate that... oh, Maker," she swore as she saw, at last, the belated approach of that very man.

Viscount Dumar was huffing and puffing, garbed only in his nightgown and a pair of fabric slippers, as several guards flanked him for protection. "I heard what happened!" he exclaimed as he caught up with the rest. "I can't believe it! Sebastian!"

"Yes, Your Grace," Aveline confirmed. "They escaped on horseback. They're well outside the city walls by now, I am sure."

"The chase is hopeless, then?"

Anders hesitated for a moment before venturing a suggestion. "Not necessarily. If there are any other horses in town, I could cast the spell Haste on one. That might allow the horse to catch up and overtake theirs. Do you want to do that, Viscount?"

Caitlyn gave him a look of surprise and admiration; she knew he held the man in utter contempt, but he was still trying to be helpful. And casting Haste on a second horse was an idea that had not occurred to her at all.

Dumar closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head. "It's a smart suggestion, Warden, but... perhaps it's better this way. She has forfeited her position, but without violence or the ugliness of an execution."

Caitlyn stepped forward, disgusted. "Your Grace," she said, practically spitting out the words, "are you meaning to let them go free? For Sebastian to go to Starkhaven to claim a crown, with a traitor in his company—a traitor who undoubtedly knows many state secrets and other information about Kirkwall?"

Dumar gaped at her, speechless for a moment, before responding. "I don't want to start a war with him! He is going to claim his birthright, so he will have the full force of Starkhaven behind him in any conflict. With the Qunari breathing down our necks, Kirkwall is stretched thin..."

If the Circle mages could fight for the city, and the apostates could join without fear, you would have a much more formidable force, she thought, but she did not say it. "He does not have those forces at his command yet. He has to reclaim the city first. And Anders' suggestion would not cause a war if they could be apprehended before they reached Starkhaven in the first place."

Dumar wavered for a second before shaking his head. "No, Serah Hawke. It is for the best that it happened this way. Let him shelter a silver-haired woman who was a mother to him. She will never be a priest again, after all."

Caitlyn and Anders shared a look of disgust with Aveline, but there was nothing more they could do.


The next morning, Petrice had assumed unofficial authority over the Kirkwall Chantry. Elthina had not treated any priest as a regular lieutenant, so there was no one in the Chantry ranks with the existing clout to challenge Petrice's provisional assumption of power. And after Elthina's criminal flight the night before—a confirmation of her guilt in everyone's eyes—no priest wanted to be seen as a loyalist to a traitor.

"I had already written to the Left Hand of the Divine, asking her to advise Justinia to appoint you whenever Elthina left her post," Caitlyn told her as soon as she was able to talk. "I didn't anticipate it happening this quickly, of course, so the letter probably has not reached the Grand Cathedral... but it shouldn't be long now."

The priest nodded in satisfaction. "There are fast runners on the move today too, of course. This news is quite urgent." She lowered her voice. "I heard that you were one of the first to learn of the escape, and that the Viscount"—unmitigated contempt filled her voice at the word—"refused your husband's intelligent idea to catch them before they reached Starkhaven with the use of a spell."

"He did," Caitlyn confirmed in a sour tone. "He was afraid of starting a war, so he claimed, but I think he is just too squeamish to exact justice. Some would say it was tenderheartedness, but in his place, it's squeamishness."

"Being soft won't save him," she said darkly. "The Arishok is still here."

"I have to ask," Caitlyn said, changing the subject at once, "have you had a visit from the Knight-Commander?"

Petrice's lips thinned. "I have. It was perfunctory and cold. She does not approve of or trust me one bit, because of my alliance with you. And I think, too, because she knows I have spoken against how the Qunari treat mages."

Good, thought Caitlyn.

"Unfortunately, I do not have the power to dismiss her, and I won't until the Divine confirms me in the position officially. Even then..." She trailed off.

Caitlyn was instantly on alert. "Even then... what? The Grand Cleric can dismiss the Knight-Commander, I thought."

"Yes, but the Knight-Commander has the right of appeal to the Templar authorities in Val Royeaux, the Knight-Vigilant and the Knights-Divine, as well as the Lord Seeker. I will move to get rid of her, Hawke, but you should be prepared for her to take that route when I do. It will be up to the Divine to affirm or deny the order in the end."

Great, Caitlyn thought unhappily. Leliana has already told me that Justinia doesn't want to jump headlong into controversy and wants a drive for change to come from the bottom up that she can then use to justify reform. Now I may end up asking her to overrule the highest-ranking Templars in Thedas. This is looking much more troublesome than I thought.


A week later.

The swift messengers to Orlais were not fast enough to outrun the ships to Ferelden, and word came first from the Coastlands. On the very same day, Anders received a response letter from Warden-Commander Cousland about his inquiry into Warden Avernus's research while Caitlyn had a letter arrive from "Senior Warden-Enchanter and Senior Warden Healer Florian Phineas Horatio Aldebrant, Esquire."

"That toff became a Grey Warden and a Healer, replacing me?" Anders said indignantly as he opened his letter. "Unbelievable."

"Not a friend of his, I take it?"

"He was so annoying!" Anders exclaimed. "Pompous know-it-all. And I like comfort as much as the next person, but I think he believed that dirt would consume him. I can't believe he actually did something like joining the Wardens. The Fereldan Circle must be even more of a nightmare now than it was before." He opened his letter, which was rather short, and sighed.

"What's the matter?"

He set it aside. "Avernus is working on Warden infertility—in men only, thus far—because of the King and the stability that an heir will provide, but he hasn't had a breakthrough yet. Lady Cousland says that she will send me a potion and instructions for making it if he does solve the problem, but he hasn't done it yet."

Caitlyn leaned over and hugged him. "It's all right," she said softly. "It is important, and we would both be very happy if he can solve the problem, but you were right that night that I was so upset. What we have now is priceless and we must remember that and treasure the family we already have."

Anders nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He had allowed himself to hope, and now, his hope was at best delayed again. At least I still have that hope, he thought. Avernus must not think it's impossible to cure. There is that.

He glanced up at Caitlyn, who was now reading her own letter with a rapidly growing expression of horror and anguish on her face. Tears were forming in her eyes. Without hesitation, he moved to her.

She threw the letter down and flung herself into his embrace, crying openly. Anders wrapped his arms tightly around her, feeling a dead weight in his stomach as he picked up the letter to read for himself. She was choking on her sobs; he would not ask her to repeat what horrible news it held.

.

Serah Hawke,

I thank you for reaching out to the mage Wardens of Ferelden for information, and you and Warden Anders have our gratitude for all that you have done in Kirkwall to help mages in that city.

I am terribly sorry, but I regret to tell you that I have no good news of your cousin and his friend—except, perhaps, that they did not suffer long. That is not my determination to make, though; it is yours and your family's, and I apologize for my presumption.

After they were accused of aiding a maleficar in escaping the Circle, your maternal second cousin Daylen Amell and his lady friend Neria Surana were forced to endure the Rite of Tranquility. This, as I expect you know, is a violation of Chantry law, since they were Harrowed—and this is why I think they were hidden from the other mages afterward. They were sent to the fourth level of the Circle Tower at Kinloch Hold, and unfortunately this was the floor that was the heart of the demonic evil when the Circle was fallen. I am sure that Warden Anders has told you of this; the Warden-Commander says that he knows of it even though he had escaped before it happened. Your cousin and his friend were among the first mages to be slain by the demons. I swear on my life, Serah Hawke, that they did not live as Tranquil for more than a fortnight.

I wish I had better news to tell you. I was not extremely close to them, and may not have any more to tell than Warden Anders does, but if you ever wish to know more about your late cousin's life after he was taken from Kirkwall, you are welcome to write to me to ask.

Regretfully,

Warden-Enchanter Finn Aldebrant

.

Anders felt overwhelmed with sorrow as he held Caitlyn close. She shook in his arms, crying and clutching him desperately, barely able to get a word out. As he held her, though, the sorrow for her began to transmute into a blinding rage. Is there any mage whose loved ones haven't been touched by this evil? he thought. They do it, they destroy us, as if we are nothing—because to them, we are nothing.

At last she lifted her head up to meet his gaze with her own. Although her eyes were still bloodshot and watery, that same rage gleamed from them as well. "He was family," she said in a low, dark, angry voice. "He was family—and I'll claim his friend as family too. And I never even got to know him. None of us did. He was taken from us and destroyed, the fact that he ever lived at all almost obliterated, his surviving relatives not even notified of what happened to him! Even for a vagrant, they try to find surviving family rather than letting him rot in the street when he dies! But not mages! They don't see us as people, Anders!"

"No, they don't."

She took a deep breath. "I will tell Mother that he died. She doesn't need to know any more than that. But..." Her voice wobbled again, and she gazed at him with a renewed burst of tears. "I'm so sorry—that night, the night that Karl... died... and the way I acted to you—"

"Caitlyn, love, you've apologized for that. More than once. I forgave you long ago." He pulled her close, stroking her hair, trying to offer her what comfort he could.

She closed her eyes, feeling that she did not deserve his touches despite his words. "I understand now, on a personal level, just how horrible I was. And he was close to you. I never knew Cousin Daylen or his girl, but I still feel so much sorrow just because of who he was, who they were—would have been to us, had they lived." She took a shuddery breath. "Sorrow and anger."

"Anger is good," he said. "In this case, anger is good. It is righteous and just."

"Yes," she said, her voice firming up again. "It is. They will not have suffered and died in vain, any of them. I swear it." She breathed heavily, staring ahead, as the tears finally dried. "They will all have justice."


Notes: Cullen fans: I'm sorry. But this is 9:34, and the Circle memory narrative was Anders' take on him, specifically this AU Anders who wanted out of the Fereldan Circle so desperately at the exact time that Cullen began to serve there. However, this is not a Cullen-bashing story. He's not a super important character in this fic, but he'll have a character arc that is similar to his canonical one, with differences in circumstance and timing.

Speaking of things that have differences in circumstances and timing in the AU, I have not forgotten about the quest "Dissent" (rapist Templars). It'll just happen later and in a different way. There have been some provocations in this AU that didn't happen in canon, and as a result, a certain major event will happen earlier here by a number of months, and then different circumstances cause the comeuppance of Alrik and pals to be postponed relative to its canon timeline and to occur in a different way. But it's going to occur.