Notes: Thank you once again for reading this fic! As you read this chapter, please keep in mind that I use the unreliable narrator device in these stories, and that also means for the protagonist and love interest. What Caitlyn and Anders think about certain characters does not necessarily reflect what said characters actually believe or intend.

Song: Muse – "Unnatural Selection


Chapter 82: A Language That They'll Understand


As winter turned to spring, events in Kirkwall followed the seasons: after a long cold siege winter, a renewal of movement and life.

The mages and a handful of Templars from the former Hasmal Circle arrived first. It was a small Circle to begin with, and with the division of its Templars three ways, only ten arrived in Kirkwall—under the leadership of the Knight-Commander, Brycen.

This was a situation unlike any of those that previous rebel Circles had experienced—other than Kirkwall's former Circle itself. Ferelden, Markham, and Hercinia's mages had all arrived without Templar accompaniment. Caitlyn felt an innate unease about consulting with the Templar. Would that not grant him and his people the veneer of authority to speak for the Hasmal mages? Anders agreed, she knew, and she decided to turn the tables by summoning the Mages' Council to the audience chamber of the Keep where she would greet the Hasmal leaders. The Templar would be alone among mages.

At the appointed time, Brycen and the First Enchanter of Hasmal, an extremely fey and delicate human woman named Dalla Morris, approached and entered the room. Caitlyn, Anders, and the members of the Mages' Council sat around a table, waiting, as the Hasmal delegates took their seats.

Caitlyn studied the former First Enchanter. She was slender and small, and her features had that in them that strongly suggested half-elven heritage. But Caitlyn knew it would be rude to ask. The woman might not even know, in fact, depending on when she had been taken to the Circle and what her home life had been before that.

The Templar was a pleasant-faced man in early middle age, perhaps the age of Ser Thrask. It was sometimes hard to tell with Templars; lyrium use could age their bodies quickly. But he seemed mentally competent. He allowed the mages' vote to go forward, Caitlyn thought. But he nonetheless accompanied the First Enchanter here.

"Welcome to Kirkwall," she said to them both after the initial pleasantries. "I was pleased to hear that Hasmal was not sacked and that your Circle survived the attack." She paused. "I think I speak for the entire Mages' Council—in fact, all of my Councils—in wanting to know more of what happened, though. In the city and at your Circle." She turned pointedly to the mage, wanting Ser Brycen to understand very clearly whom she regarded as the representative of the former Hasmal Circle. "First Enchanter Morris?"

The woman began to speak. Caitlyn and Anders exchanged a quick glance of surprise and pleasure that she did not look first to Brycen to ask nonverbally for approval to speak.

"Your Grace, we didn't learn exactly what happened in the city until after we managed to escape," she explained. "Knight-Comm... that is, to say, Ser Brycen," she corrected, "abruptly called us all to conference to explain that the city had capitulated to the so-called Orthodox Chantry. We already knew about the Templar rebellion—Ser Brycen did not impose restrictions on the flow of information in the Circle—and we also knew about the new ones serving the schism who use red lyrium." She glowered in disgust. "He said that he did not trust the Orthodox Chantry or its rebel Templars to treat us well, and so the entire Circle, mages, Templars, and Tranquil, were going to run for it."

Caitlyn interrupted. "Your letter didn't say anything about Tranquil. Where are they, and how many?"

"Eight," she said. "They are accompanying the band of Templars who are en route to Val Royeaux to protect Divine Justinia."

Ser Brycen interrupted. "This is secret intelligence," he said. "But I have heard in confidence that there is research regarding reversal of the Rite of Tranquility."

"That is true," Caitlyn said, frowning. Come to think of it, though, she had not heard about this from Justinia's people in quite some time...

"Begging your pardon, Your Grace, if I am telling you something that you already know. There was a small group of mages working on it in Adamant Fortress, a distant keep in Orlais. I myself dislike the Rite... I have only authorized it because I thought it sad but necessary sometimes to protect weak mages from themselves and give them a chance at life—"

Caitlyn, Anders, and the members of the Mages' Council were all scowling.

The Templar swallowed hard and continued. "Your Grace's experiment here in Kirkwall has made me think that there could be alternatives. Your Grand Cleric banned the Rite back in 9:34 Dragon, I understand, and you haven't had a problem with abominations running amok. If I have ordered this against those eight mages when it wasn't necessary, I've done a terrible wrong against them, and I wanted to give them the chance to become whole again."

Caitlyn tried to control her temper. At least he sees that it was wrong, she thought. He sent them to Justinia, and he let the mages' vote carry. He does seem to want to make amends for the wrong he has done as a Templar.

She faced the duo again. "Continue, please. The Templars split three ways, and the mages voted to join the army?"

First Enchanter Morris nodded. "Indeed so, Your Grace. We made it out of the city in secret, and there we learned that Kirkwall was under siege. We decided to stay far to the north to avoid the schismatic army and ultimately made it to Seleny, where we made contact with the mages of Dairsmuid. We stayed there until word of the siege's lifting reached us."

Caitlyn turned to Ser Brycen. "Your letter mentioned that you would put your Templars under the authority of Sers Thrask and Cullen. You do realize that the Templars of Kirkwall are comparatively few in number now, and that they have no authority over the Free Mages unless I specifically authorize them to make an arrest? The role of those who answer to Thrask and Cullen is mostly to deal with maleficarum and slaver mages from Tevinter who continue to prey on this city. The others have sworn themselves to the Grand Cleric's 'Suprema,' an organization she created under the auspices of the Chantry to prosecute schismatic heretics."

Brycen nodded. "I do understand. I would not interfere with Your Grace's policies. There are evils that we may still work to defeat. We will simply do so under a different authority."

She narrowed her gaze. "And one more thing. The secret intelligence about Tranquility research. With whom are you in contact to know about that, Ser Brycen?"

The Templar hesitated.

Caitlyn hardened her tone. "Ser Brycen, I must insist. Your Templars' residence in Kirkwall depends on your answering this question honestly."

He gave her a pleading gaze. "Your Grace—this could gravely endanger the person if... their... identity were to become known!"

"I am a head of state, Ser. I understand perfectly well how that works."

"Of course," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to offend. But all of these people..."

"Are representatives of the Free Mages. They are leaders too. We'll all swear an oath, if it would put your mind at ease."

"I am in contact with Senior Enchanter Wynne of Ferelden," he finally said. "She led the team of mages that went to Adamant Fortress. There was a problem... the Divine needed to send aid... and she, the mage Wynne, led it."

Anders was frowning in contemplation. "I know her," he finally said. He turned to his wife. "This reminds me of something. Caitlyn, do you remember? A year ago, before Markham fell under attack, the second group of Fereldan mages joined us, and they said that Wynne had gone missing."

"I do remember," she said.

"Your Graces, I don't think that it's the same thing," Brycen said. "Most Holy sent Enchanter Wynne to Adamant Fortress more recently than that. If she was missing before that, it was something else."

"They lost contact with her after the blasted Lord Seeker broke up the College of Magi," Caitlyn said. "I imagine that explanation speaks for itself. All right. What you have told me—plus your actions in letting the mages come here—does aid my trust of you and the Templars with you." She gave Anders a pointed look, indicating that she wanted to speak with him alone afterward. He gave her a quick nod as she continued to speak to the guests. "In the meantime, you are most welcome here. First Enchanter Morris, the Mages' Council will take it from here. The Free Mages have quite a community here in Kirkwall and their representatives can get your mages settled in. Meanwhile, Ser Brycen, the Templars who have not pledged to the Grand Cleric's Suprema are located in a small house in Hightown. My guards can direct you and your Templars to it, where you will report to Ser Thrask." This was clearly a dismissal, and the room quickly emptied, leaving Caitlyn and Anders alone.

"Well," he said once he was certain that no one was listening, "I'm rather irritated with Divine Justinia at the moment. And Cassandra Pentaghast."

"Me too," Caitlyn said. She glowered at the tabletop. "And Leliana. She hasn't even written to me in three years! Is she that angry that war broke out? Maybe that was it at first, but it can't just be that anymore. She hasn't written because she's keeping secrets, probably at Justinia's behest. Cassandra might or might not know about this Tranquility research, but Leliana definitely knows! She's the one who told us about it!"

"We knew it existed, but we had no idea that it was at Adamant Fortress and that Wynne was involved with it. They've been keeping things from you while involving her and telling people like that Templar," Anders growled.

"I can't blame Brycen for knowing—it isn't his fault that he was told and I wasn't—but I do not appreciate being kept in the dark by people I trusted."

"What do they have in common that we don't share with them? They wanted to keep the Circles. Hasmal didn't revolt until the enemy was at their doorstep! Justinia apparently has a network of agents and supporters who are still trying to keep the status quo," he snarled. "Which is in opposition now to our goals. There's no way around that, love."

"I know."

"I just hope that Templar is only a supporter of hers, and hasn't been sent here to spy for her!"

"Well, he won't get anything useful if he has been! Honestly, Anders, I've just about had enough of the lot of them. While they play games, we have been fighting—bleeding and dying for the cause."

"We certainly have."

"I don't want Justinia dead—our position becomes too precarious if she is killed—but you're right. She is not an active ally if she is still trying to save the bloody Circles, and I am no longer convinced that she'll treat fairly with us if we owe her anything in terms of military aid." Her gaze hardened. "We will make ourselves so strong, with our blasting weapons and our magical power, that Justinia will not dare go against anything that we want when we do win."

Anders beamed at her in satisfaction and pride.


Caitlyn summoned a War Council meeting as quickly as she could to discuss their path forward. For this meeting, Cullen, she was told, was "out sick" again—which she understood meant his lyrium addiction. She found that once again she did not particularly care. In fact, this just gave her the excuse she needed to remove him from the War Council, and she resolved to do it.

But in the meantime, she had to plot the course of the war, and the other Templar, Ser Thrask, was present. She resolved to keep her temper as best she could; he had been an ally and a supporter of mage rights for many years, and none of the day's revelations were his fault. Members of the Council were sworn to secrecy about what they discussed, and he had always been loyal to her, so she did not fear that he would tell Brycen—or any of the other Templars—secret intelligence that could make its way back to Justinia.

"All right," she began once the Council was called to order. "We have confirmation that, as we thought, Hasmal was not sacked—but it does remain in enemy hands. They lost Hercinia but gained Hasmal." She pointed to the war table map, where three figures carved with Orthodox Chantry heraldry dotted the Minanter River like beads on a necklace. "We have to start thinking about what we should do next: Liberate Hasmal first, besiege Starkhaven, and cut off Tantervale from both sides? Or attack Tantervale directly and hope their false Divine doesn't flee to one of those two neighboring cities?"

The members of the War Council studied the map. Aveline spoke first. "Both strategies have problems, with all due respect. Starkhaven remains extremely difficult, if not impossible, to take. Unless there is something that can breach its walls, some newly developed weapon? Or a new strategy?"

Anders spoke up. "We don't have a new weapon—yet," he said. "When Dworkin Glavonak and his team arrive, hopefully that will change."

"It could take some time to turn a design into reality, and you don't even have a design yet," Aveline said. She turned back to Caitlyn. "Without a game-changing tool like that, retaking Hasmal alone might tax our army beyond recovery. The schism sent troops there, and although we did kill some of them and took two thousand prisoner from Lighthouse Point, I estimate that five to six thousand others remain, not counting those at Hasmal. We faced ten thousand between those at the walls of Kirkwall and those around Lighthouse Point, but I suspect their force was at least twelve thousand strong when we count those that went to Hasmal. Even if we reduced its numbers by half, which I doubt we did, we don't have the numbers to match them." She paused. "Your Grace, I admit I don't understand why you called this meeting. Why are we talking about making an attack on the Minanter region? We can't do it."

"Yet," Caitlyn emphasized. "And I don't intend to do it just now. I'm discussing our longer-term strategy once we can do it." She brought her hands together over the tabletop. "Let's suppose that, at some point in the near future, we will be able to make an attack that we stand a chance of winning. Of the strategies I outlined, which would you advise? Or do you have another idea?"

They considered the war map again. Aveline responded, "Presuming some sort of game-changing weapon that can breach the enemy walls... I favor the 'decapitate the leadership' strategy. I wouldn't waste time with Hasmal. I'd go after Starkhaven and Tantervale directly. Particularly the latter."

Caitlyn nodded. "I think so too, but I did want a second opinion."

"Hasmal capitulated without violence because of economic reasons. Why spend blood trying to take it? It'd capitulate again with the 'Orthodox Chantry' leadership overthrown."

"We don't have enough munitions," Anders cautioned. "We used most of them to break the siege. But the materials are easy to get, and we can mine them from wherever they are found now, not just the mines under Darktown."

"There is one more thing I should point out," Aveline said grimly. "If we do besiege Starkhaven or Tantervale—or both—with blasting powder weapons, there will likely be massive civilian casualties."

Caitlyn, Anders, and the other mages on the council sighed. "I know," she said quietly. "It's horrible. But this is war."

There was a long, dark silence, and then Caitlyn spoke again. "All right. Here's our plan, then. Dworkin Glavonak is going to arrive some time over the next few months, hopefully. We'll develop whatever brilliantly mad ideas he and Anders can devise—"

Anders chuckled.

"—and in the meantime, we will also rebuild our fleet. I will have Varric, Isabela, and others look into whether it is cheaper to build or buy ships, and then that will begin." She rose from her chair, the others following suit in quick succession. "This meeting is adjourned."


Caitlyn did not even need to waste time dismissing Cullen from the War Council; the man came to the Keep himself to offer his resignation after the meeting that he missed. Charade accompanied him, looking sad and upset but still resolved.

"I am sorry," Cullen said, sighing, as Charade held his arm with her own. "I tried to get a grip on it... I thought that I was making progress during the siege, with rationing... but then supply routes were opened up again, and I... overindulged... as soon as I had the chance. It's just too much." He looked ashamed and angry with himself. "I've ended things with the Lady Charade—"

"For now," Charade put in, her voice hard and determined.

"For now," Cullen agreed, though he sounded far less certain than she. "I need to try to deal with my... personal problem."

"Lyrium addiction," Caitlyn said baldly. "We all know what it is, so just speak openly of it. Refusing to speak the words won't help you; you have to face what it is and name it, at a bare minimum!"

Beside her, Anders took her arm in firm agreement.

"You're right," Cullen said, scowling at the ground. "I'm not dealing with it well enough to serve on your War Council. And Your Graces have other things, bigger things, to worry about than my pr—my addiction," he corrected at once. "You have a war to fight."

Caitlyn softened a jot. "So what are you going to do? You officially left the Order when you resigned as Meredith's Knight-Captain, didn't you?"

"I tendered my resignation, but I don't know if my repudiation of the oath was ever actually sent to the Divine. Or even the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall." He sighed again. "You must understand, when I joined the Templars, I thought I would be protecting civilians from mages who use their talents to do harm—maleficarum who prey on the innocent. Instead I was sent to Kinloch Hold and tasked with executing young mages who failed their Harrowings. Then I was sent to serve under Meredith. It's been... very disillusioning, to say the least. I think that's why I began taking too much lyrium in the first place: a means to escape reality. But when the event at Kinloch Hold happened—the demonic confinement—my use became a dependency, and what I saw under Meredith did not help. And it's preventing me from being effective on the War Council."

Anders spoke very bluntly. "And perhaps serving on a council that supports a war for mage freedom feels a bit odd to you too?" His words were pointed.

"I can't deny that it does," he admitted. "I feel out of place there. Thrask has the Templars of Kirkwall hunting for slavers and such, and perhaps if I just fought with a sword arm, doing what I thought I'd be doing, it will help."

"I'm not giving you up this easily, you know," Charade said.

He gave her a sad smile. "We should discuss it at a future date when I'm cured. Maker willing, I will be someday."

Caitlyn turned to him. "Do as you deem best, then. I wish you recovery."


In mid-late spring, Dworkin Glavonak finally arrived in Kirkwall—with an associate, his cousin, who was named Temmerin. They had chartered a small ship to transport their team and their equipment, and they were quickly shown to the Keep after their arrival.

Caitlyn and Anders faced the dwarves. Dworkin was blond, tight braids lining his scalp, while Temmerin was dark-haired and nearly bald. Neither of them had a gleam of insanity in their eyes—though Caitlyn knew, from an account that Anders had given her, that it might only come out in Dworkin as an explosion actually ensued.

"It's a good thing to come out of hiding," Dworkin said smugly.

The mages raised their eyebrows. "Hiding?" Anders repeated. "The Warden-Commander told me quite freely that you had a contract with them."

Temmerin spoke up. "Yes, but Gwaren is a bit of a backwater, you know? The Qunari took a real interest in Dworkin after his work at Vigil's Keep during the big darkspawn incursion, and by that I mean that they sent assassins after my cousin because he was getting a bit too close to their stuff." He turned to Caitlyn. "But you got rid of that lot! And a good job it was."

"We're prepared for the fact that the Qunari, among others, might be 'interested in' us due to Anders' blasting powder," Caitlyn said. "Our intent is to build up arms so massively so that anyone who 'takes interest in us' thinks twice about making something of it."

Dworkin rubbed his palms together in approval. "That's what I like to hear. Defiance! And explosives," he added.

"You'll be hearing a lot of both here in Kirkwall," Anders cracked. "A war of defiance, and explosives to help us win it."

Caitlyn smirked. "Actually, though, I'd rather not hear explosives in Kirkwall again. Hopefully. But there is quite a lot of land available between here and our settlement Lighthouse Point, and we expect that a suitable research, development, and test site can be carved out of that."

"Just say the word, Your Grace. We're ready to move into wherever."


Caitlyn quickly identified a perfect testing site. It was a valley between two mountains of the Vimmarks, but these mountains were joined by a long, steep, narrow, and nearly inaccessible ridge called Ironbark Ridge after the plethora of ironbark trees that grew in and around this region. The valley that Caitlyn thought well-suited for weapons development was just south of the ridge, providing a site that was essentially impossible to access except from the south, and equally impossible to spy upon from afar. Nestled into the mountain range, it was protected on three sides. It was closer to Kirkwall than to Lighthouse Point, close enough for Anders to ride out by day and return by the evening, but there were no populated settlements close at hand. The nearest farm was several miles away; the deep shade of the mountains and ridge was not good for agriculture, but it was great for secret work. The Glavonaks' team could set off explosives with no outsiders anywhere around to hear them.

Caitlyn missed Anders during the day after the Glavonaks' team got set up in Ironbark Ridge, but he did always return at night—usually covered in dust and filled with excitement or smugness, or both.

One night during the first month after Ironbark Ridge opened for work, he and she were sitting in the family parlor with the children and pets. For Caitlyn, it was a blessed moment of peace. Since the war had begun, those moments, already uncommon, had become as scarce as goods from Starkhaven.

He kept to his word that he would not be alone with Mal and Jo as long as the mystery darkspawn was bothering his dreams. It was poignantly painful to Caitlyn to see him guarded and subtly afraid of himself in their presence, but at least he would spend time with them when she was there.

Mal, as a budding Healer, missed his father as well, but he had chosen to stay in the Keep's healing clinic to learn from the other Healers instead of accompanying his father to the weapons development site. Anders would not have wanted him there in the first place, admittedly. But he was still a boy, and he was curious about the work.

"What exactly is going on at Ironbark Ridge, anyway?" he asked his father. "If you can tell me?" he added as an afterthought.

Anders grimaced. "I'm afraid I can't, son," he said reluctantly. "It's top secret while it remains under development. But the Glavonaks and I are thinking up other things that can be done with the blasting powder—different formulations that have different properties, and ways to use the powder other than bombs. I'm sorry, but that's really all I can tell you."

That seemed to mollify Mal. However, later that night, when they were alone, Caitlyn asked him for more details.

"It's about a way to loft things over the walls of Starkhaven and Tantervale, isn't it? As you suggested?" she guessed when they were in bed.

Anders nodded. "The Glavonaks think it can be done. Nobody has ever done this before, Cait—not even the Qunari. It really is top secret."

"I understand. I am the Viscountess of Kirkwall, Anders!" she said with a laugh of amusement and exasperation. "I don't need to be reminded about the need for national security! I nearly turned into Meredith in my pursuit of it. And I still see the need! I just hope I'm not as... unreasonable... as I was."

Anders managed a smile at that. "All right. Dworkin, Temmerin, and I have been drafting something, and it's very close to forging and testing. I was going to wait to see if it succeeded before telling you, but the dwarves seem very confident in it. And I can't refuse you, love." He smiled lovingly at her.

She smiled back and waited for him to gather his thoughts.

He hesitated, then took the plunge. "The Glavonaks agreed with me that it's possible to harness the explosive force to propel something in a specific direction. It has to do with slightly changing the formula of the powder itself and using a long stick. Apparently that should help keep the angle of the path fixed. The trajectory, they call it."

"Oh, I understand that, I think," she agreed. "It's mathematics, isn't it? I had to understand that for force magic, predicting where things will fall when they're lofted in an arc with a certain amount of magical force."

He nodded. "And I learned something about it at the Circle for aiming fireballs and thrown rocks. It is mathematics, though they have a far better understanding of it than I do, I'm sure."

Caitlyn thought she understood. "So the idea is to create something like the Qunari cannons? Long tubes filled with blasting powder that send stones on a fixed path—such as over the walls?"

Anders raised his eyebrows in a smirk. "Not stones, and not Qunari cannons. We're talking about designs where a large amount of blasting powder itself is contained within a metal shell. The shell doesn't explode until it strikes a target. That's the idea, anyway—we don't have a prototype yet—but it would be a lot more destructive than just stones."

Caitlyn's eyes widened. "Maker! Yes, it would! But how do you intend to control when these shells would explode? This sounds extremely dangerous!" For the first time since the dwarven team had arrived in Kirkwall, Caitlyn felt her confidence in them fading, and she wondered if Dworkin Glavonak's reputation for madness was in fact accurate. How could this work?

"It will be dangerous—to the enemy," Anders said. "They're doing something with runes and firebomb mix."

"Blasting powder and firebomb mix?" Caitlyn was even more horrified. "Fire is what sets off the blasting powder! Anders, I understand that you're excited about this, but how can this work without ending in disaster for us? This explosion that launches these... things..."

"Rockets. That's what we're calling them."

"Rockets," she said, trying out the unfamiliar word. "As you say. The explosion that launches a rocket skyward—if the powder is being burned up, exploded, what's to stop that from reaching the shell with the bulk of it?"

"The payload, the Glavonaks call it."

"Right." Caitlyn had heard that term used for trebuchet projectiles. It was astonishing how readily Anders had adopted weapons-engineering jargon, but perhaps it was just as much of a passion for him as healing was—though that in itself was unsettling. "How do you stop this explosion from igniting the powder that is the payload—and the firebomb mix?" she added.

"They are separated. There are runes for that, too. It's really better if you came to Ironbark Ridge to see it, Cait," he urged. "The Glavonaks have been working out the precise mathematics for the size of it and the amount of metal to use in the forging. But we're very close to forging one and testing it."

"Don't you have the schematics with you?"

He shook his head. "The Glavonaks are keeping the schematic in their house in Ironbark Ridge. They say it's more secure that way, since I come and go each day. Unless you say otherwise..."

That made sense to Caitlyn. "No, they're right," she agreed. "I'll make plans to visit there as soon as you have it ready to test. I think you're right and I do need to see this to understand it. Right now it seems... well, frankly, mad."

Anders laughed. "It arguably is. It's new. Nobody has ever done it before. But I do think it can work, and they're extremely confident of that."

This still seemed supremely risky to Caitlyn, but she supposed, upon reflection, that she should put more trust in Anders' understanding—and the skills of the Glavonaks. Dworkin had outfitted Vigil's Keep with explosives that had helped to destroy a darkspawn force while doing almost no damage to the castle itself. He knew what he was doing. And, she thought, if I see the risk—the danger of an uncontrolled fire or sizzle reaching the powder-packed shell, a pair of experts unquestionably would, and would have ways to prevent it.

Calmed by that consideration, she allowed her imagination to run free.

Shooting bombs through the sky, she thought. With force powerful enough to top city walls. People have been making chemical bombs in glass flasks for a long time, but they have to be thrown, so they can't explode too big or else the blast will catch the thrower too. Trebuchets can loft projectiles, including our round blasting powder bombs, but they probably cannot get them over the enemy's walls far enough into the cities to do much damage. But as Anders has said, nobody has made these... rockets... yet.

"You know," she spoke up again, "if you three are right, and this works as well as you all hope it will, this will change everything again. The blasting powder was a game-changer in its own right, but this would be just as important, if not more so. It'll change the face of war... and the face of national defense."

Anders nodded gravely. "It's a new world in many ways. Rights for mages, but this as well."

"This could even be a deterrent against the Qunari," she said, thinking. "This matches their cannons. Maker, I'd say it exceeds them, if it works."

"I agree," Anders said, eyes gleaming in the crystal lamps' light.

Caitlyn's thoughts were already fixed upon additional possibilities and implications. She knew that she might be letting her imagination run away with her—everything depended on the rockets working—but it was impossible to make herself stop thinking about what this could mean.

"And there's something else," she finally said. "It's been clear to me almost as soon as I became a resident of Kirkwall that this city is extremely vulnerable. I've firmed up its defenses, but Kirkwall's vulnerability goes beyond the physical weaknesses that I have tried to remedy."

Anders nodded. "This place has been attacked and invaded repeatedly over the ages. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes. The Qunari, Orlais, Meredith's Templars... the Qunari again... Starkhaven and Tantervale, almost! And I have heard the claim that the other cities would react ferociously to an attack on one of their own... but nothing that I have actually seen supports that. Nobody came to Kirkwall's aid in any of those invasions and attacks—except Markham in this war, and that is only because they are obligated by treaty now! The story of 'Marcher unity' is not worth the paper it's written on!"

Anders pulled her into an embrace. He loved it when she got excited and righteously angry. He didn't love the fact that it was necessary, but her passion excited his passion.

She continued heatedly. "A Templar and a traitorous Grand Cleric killed the rightful Viscount of Kirkwall within our lifetimes because he was imposing harsh sanctions on Orlais. They deposed the rightful leader for the Orlesian emperor's convenience, and did anyone try to stop them? No," she answered rhetorically. "And it gets worse when you look farther back. In the Storm Age, the Qunari actually occupied and ruled Kirkwall for several years. So much for 'Marcher unity against outside threats'!" she scoffed derisively. "It's bollocks. We're on our own. And eventually the Qunari... or someone else... will see that and act on it again."

"If the rockets work, and we built and stockpiled enough of them, it very well could deter another invasion," Anders agreed, smiling in excitement. "And if we decide to make Kirkwall into 'Mage City,' a safe haven for southern mages, it could deter anyone else who might have a problem with that."

And it could deter Divine Justinia from trying to force some sort of slimy compromise treaty that would make us accept Circles again in exchange for piecing the Chantry back together, Caitlyn thought darkly. She wondered if that might, in fact, have been exactly what Anders meant too.

As Caitlyn settled into Anders' embrace and bedded down, she reflected on the discussion and the events since the breaking of the siege. She considered her own dark turn, the justification she had made—which was analogous to the justification for having terrifying weapons—and the realization she'd had at last. Ruling by fear might be wrong in a leader, a person, she thought, but fear-based deterrence is a valid strategy for national defense. Nations must do things sometimes that people shouldn't do. This is one of those instances. Ferelden has built up a massive military that has worked to deter another Orlesian invasion. The Qunari haven't faced an attack from the outside because everyone fears their gaatlok. Southern nations have left Tevinter alone because of its magical power. Deterrence through fear may be wrong for an individual person, because of what it would require them to become... but it makes sense for a nation. And Kirkwall must join that group at last.


Leaving Mal and Jo in her mother's care, Caitlyn accompanied Anders to Ironbark Ridge the following week. Viscountess or no, she did not want to be transported in a carriage. She preferred the freedom of riding, a pleasant reminder of her childhood on a farm and a symbol of liberty. On horseback, she was bold and proud; riding in a carriage spoke of fear and danger to her. And between the siege and the Coterie, she'd had her fill of that.

Aveline had not wholly approved of Caitlyn's determination to ride, but she could not interfere—and, after all, Caitlyn was a mage. She could ward herself. The City Guard and Militia were finally doing surprisingly well dealing with the professional Coterie officers whose affiliation predated the war. Although Caitlyn's pardon of those who joined after the war had not required any of them to turn informant, enough of them had done so that it helped the authorities find and arrest many of the longtime Coterie operatives.

"You should offer a reward or some measure of gratitude to those who become informants," Varric had advised Caitlyn after the first spate of these requests had come in. "People like coin."

Caitlyn had agreed, and she had decided to sweeten the deal by offering them significant reductions in taxes for two years, the amount determined by the quality of their information and the importance to the Coterie of the people it implicated. This prevented her from having to dig into the city treasury to offer an immediate pecuniary reward that would be harder to afford after the siege and during wartime. She very much hoped that, with the new weapons, they could end the war soon enough that the minor decline in tax revenue would be more than offset by a return to normal in trade and expenses.

In any case, the Guard and Militia were making progress dismantling the Coterie, and Caitlyn felt comfortable enough with her security to ride out on horseback beside Anders. A small complement of militia accompanied them to the site. These soldiers would wait at the entrance. From what Anders had told her, Caitlyn agreed that the work that the Glavonaks and he were doing in Ironbark Ridge was top secret indeed. She trusted the Militia's intentions, but loose lips were always a risk. And the fewer people who know about this before we actually use these weapons, the more secure they are, she thought.

They rode down the road that bordered the many farms, observing with pleasure and satisfaction the coming of spring. The trees and fields were in bloom under a brilliantly sunny spring sky with only a handful of white cumulus clouds—a perfect day. People were sowing crops, clearing away the sordid remnants of the enemy occupation, and beginning new construction.

It was altogether too clear which farmers had cooperated with the enemy and which ones had not. The condition of the land gave it away. Those farmers who had refused to cooperate had seen their homes and farms burned. The enemy had not salted the earth, apparently intending to give the land away to loyalists, but these farmers would still need some time to get back on their feet. The farms that had belonged to farmers who turned on Kirkwall had been seized, split up into ten-acre plots, and were in the process of being given away to homesteaders—as Caitlyn had said in her speech. There was a long list already of people who wanted their own holding. Caitlyn's Small Council members—with the addition of Fenris, Merrill, and Sketch, to represent elves fairly—were sorting through the applicants to determine which ones had the best capability to establish productive small farms.

At last they reached Ironbark Ridge. Even with its southern exposure, the valley sat in the shadow of the ridge and the mountains except at high noon. The ridge, narrow and stark, linked the twin mountains from west to east. Verdure extended from the peaks to the ground; this location was more similar in vegetation to the Sundermount area than to the Vimmark Fortress area where the ancient magister Corypheus had once slept. It provided an additional sense of cover, as well as moisture and plenty of wood as the team needed.

As planned, Caitlyn and Anders left the Militia behind at the gates—and Caitlyn was surprised and impressed that the team had managed to erect gates this quickly. There were even armed guards there, fierce burly dwarves with axes in their hands and belts full of acid flasks.

"They do take security seriously," she remarked to Anders.

He gave her a grin. "That they do. Nobody's taking chances."

They left their horses stabled near the gates, as Anders advised her that the development area was eminently walkable—and that, indeed, it might be better to do so, since the horses could become spooked if the Glavonaks set off anything that made a loud noise.

"Which they—we—often do," he added in an undertone, still smirking. Caitlyn shook her head in amusement, but she was hopeful that all this experimentation was about to bear fruit. Anders seemed confident, anyway.

Most of the team lived on the site. Tents dotted the landscape as if it were an army camp. There were also large sheltered areas set aside that Caitlyn readily identified as a laboratory and a smithy. Dwarves were at work in the smithy on a nearly four-foot-long metal object that was shaped like a cross between a cylinder and a cone. Caitlyn shaded her eyes and examined the forge more closely. Along one wall were several metal rods, which were several times longer and narrower than the part she guessed was a rocket casing.

This is the test rocket, then, she thought. Anders was right. They were indeed very close to this when he told me about the project last week.

The laboratory was set apart from the rest of the activity, and it was heavily guarded. In fact, the guards stopped a dwarven worker from entering the perimeter and removed ingredients of some sort from his pack.

"That's where they're making powder," Anders explained to her in an undertone. "There's a mining entrance close to it. The Glavonaks have a separate facility closer to the mountains for testing different formulations."

"That fellow whose supplies they confiscated—what was that? I mean, obviously it's security... but was he actually carrying something flammable, do you think? Does that happen often?" she asked him.

"No, I doubt he had anything excessively flammable. The Glavonaks and I are just extremely careful about it. They recommended confiscating even raw fire crystal. It can spark if crushed. And of course, a lot of people have it, to make firebomb mix solutions." He scanned the field. "Ah. There they are."

Dworkin and Temmerin Glavonak were walking from the base of the ridge—where the experimental powder work was occurring, Caitlyn supposed—to the laboratory where established formulations were created in bulk. They greeted Anders as a colleague as he and Caitlyn approached, and they stank of smoke and blasting powder.

And there, Caitlyn thought, was that gleam of manic fascination in their eyes that she had missed during the initial meeting. As she caught a glimpse of her husband through the corner of one eye, she realized that he shared that look.

"Anders told us to expect you today, Your Grace!" Dworkin greeted her in delight. "And you picked a good day to come. We've got it ready! You will get to see our first test."

"I thought I saw it in the workshop," she said. "The smithy."

"Yup, that's it! And a beauty it is. We're going to send 'er off in the direction of the ridge. If it's successful, it'll hit that rock quarry." He gestured at a bare stretch of land on the ridge about a third of the way up the mountains.

"That... will more than clear the walls of Starkhaven and Tantervale, surely," Caitlyn said, eyes wide.

"Oh, yes, Your Grace. Most definitely." Dworkin smirked as he spoke.

Temmerin interjected. "I'm sure Viscountess Hawke has questions for us."

"Yes," Caitlyn agreed. "I do. Anders left the schematic here, in the interest of security."

"We keep them locked down when they're not being used," Temmerin confirmed. "And by 'locked down' I mean a dwarven-made chest with a mechanical lock. And Anders puts a magical ward on top of that. We take it seriously."

"And I'm glad you do," Caitlyn agreed. "But that means I do have questions about the details of this work."

"And we'll have answers, Your Grace! But let's go to the cabin where my cousin and I live. That's where we're keeping the schematics, anyway."

"And this sun is blazing hot," Dworkin said.

The dwarves and Anders led the way to a small stone cabin—Caitlyn noted that, even though they were surface dwarves, they preferred to build with stone—and unlocked the door to let their guests inside. The cabin was surprisingly organized and neat. Caitlyn had expected a mess, given how interested these two were in explosives. It almost seemed to her as if they regarded it as playtime. But clearly they were rather disciplined in other ways, and this was work. Caitlyn realized that she thought they saw it as play merely because it involved explosions—and because they were very passionate about it. It wasn't play, though.

They all sat down. Caitlyn took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. "Anders told me that the basic idea is to use the fact that the explosion of blasting powder launched some of the shrapnel skyward."

"Yes," Dworkin confirmed, looking gleeful. "And we managed to improve on that, so it's all in the same direction. When tilted at an angle, we can readily calculate trajectory and impact point."

"Yes, he said that your designs had an explosive to launch the rocket, but that there was a second core, called a payload, that wouldn't explode until impact."

"Kaboom!" Dworkin exclaimed manically. "But the booster—that's the explosive that makes it fly—is not exactly the same chemical formula as the payload. A bit more sela petrae, a bit less drakestone. It's the difference between a big kaboom in all directions and a propulsion. We're calling the new formulation propelling powder, in fact." He chuckled. "Such fun to test!"

Caitlyn smiled wryly. "I'm sure it was. Anders keeps coming home dusty and smug."

"Oh, he loves it."

"So," she continued, "how will you keep the explosion that sends a rocket into the air from triggering the payload to explode?"

"Strong metal and armor runes separating them, that's how."

"Anders detonated the first bombs with magic, and there were others that had wicks that we lit before lofting them physically with trebuchets. It required strict timing, of course. How will these be set off?"

"Some clever rune-crafting and arrangement, if I may brag. On the inside of a bomb, there'll be a powerful rune of impact, but because it faces inward, its effect will be aimed in that direction rather than at what the rocket strikes." He rubbed his hands together. "Just next to that rune, there's a highly concentrated solution of the sort used in throwing grenades. Firebomb mix."

Caitlyn frowned, trying to picture it. Temmerin sighed. "Just a minute, Your Grace. Let me find the plan..." He rummaged around until he could find a drawing, which he handed to Caitlyn. Her eyes widened as she studied it. It was a lot easier to follow what he was saying now.

Dworkin continued. "A small metal peg will separate the grenade mix from the payload, insulating them." He collected his thoughts. "So—rocket strikes ground. Rune of impact's pressure hits explosive solution. Small boom. Explosion pushes insulator forward, leaking firebomb mix into payload chamber, detonating blasting powder inside. Armor runes on the inside keep the blast contained as long as possible, allowing heat and pressure buildup. This all occurs in a matter of a second or less, Viscountess," he added to clarify. "When it can't be contained any longer—big boom!"

"You're positive that the firebomb mix can't leak through the insulator too soon and explode the payload while it's still in flight?"

"We're using good materials! It won't be breached until the rune of impact is activated, I promise you."

"Let's hope not. I'd like to use most of the explosive in your rockets, so they have to work. They can't blow up in mid-flight."

"They won't be doing that, Your Grace."

He was very confident, and she decided she had been too harsh with him. His work had saved Vigil's Keep, after all. He knew his field. She gave him an approving smile at last. "Excellent. I'm going to ask you to construct these rockets. We're taking the war to the enemy as soon as we can."

He and his cousin applauded giddily, then pumped a fist in the air. "Yes!"


After that was the test. Clearly the runes and other components were ready when Caitlyn and Anders arrived at the site, and the rocket just needed to be assembled. That was done in a relatively short amount of time. Caitlyn watched as the dwarves filled the four-foot case with black powder, then inserted the peg, then filled the end with firebomb mix and screwed on the tip. The rod, over twenty feet long, was attached to the outside with bolts. A separate compartment was filled with black powder from a different barrel that was labeled "Propelling Mix."

The Glavonaks' team tilted the weapon upright into a wooden launch device that had several angles marked with ticks on the wooden frame. They adjusted this mechanism, the long rocket revolving with it, until they found the angle that they wanted. They turned the launcher to face the ridge.

Maker, don't let this blow us all to Your side, please, Caitlyn prayed.

Anders was beaming, eyes glittering with pride and a curious kind of lust. Well, this was the evolution of his discovery, Caitlyn supposed, and it was going to be used to—hopefully—win the war for mage rights. It was natural that he would be immensely, gleefully proud.

She held her breath as they lit the end of the wick and sparks sizzled...

The rocket left its launcher with a sizzle of fire and sparks from three exhaust holes in its end, shooting into the air, leaving a trail of smoke as it headed toward Ironbark Ridge at a shockingly rapid speed. The dwarves cheered, and Anders gripped her hand suddenly, his breath catching in his chest in excitement as they all followed the rocket's path.

The rocket struck the mountainside at the bare rocky spot, exploding in a violent blast, beginning a minor rockfall. The team erupted into a roar of applause, shouts, and raised fists.

"Whee! A ripping, roaring success!" Temmerin Glavonak exclaimed, fist raised high.

Dworkin hooted and slapped his cousin on the back, then Anders. "Yes! Yes! Direct hit! Look at that beauty!" He laughed wildly, almost a cackle.

Caitlyn and Anders exchanged wide-eyed looks as the dust settled on the mountainside. The import of what had just happened was lost on neither of them. "The world just changed again," Anders said to her in an undertone.

She gazed back at him, her heart pounding. "It did."


It did not surprise Caitlyn in the least that the Glavonaks' crew had a cellar full of ale, wine, and spirits. It also did not surprise her that this cellar had extensive security. It would hardly do for drunken people to work on such dangerous weapons. But after the successful test, the Glavonaks and Anders authorized an early cessation of work to celebrate.

He and Caitlyn were careful not to get drunk, as they did have to steer their horses back, and in any case Justice usually restricted Anders' intake. But they still relaxed and celebrated the event, and the raucous atmosphere also provided them the chance to have a talk unheard by any of the crew.

"I was waiting to see if this test would be successful," Anders began, sipping his pint of ale. "But... although, obviously, we're going to focus on this design—since we know it does significant damage—I was actually considering other possibilities for these rockets as well."

"Oh?" Caitlyn said, eyebrows raised curiously. "What possibilities?"

"Various things," he hedged. "Different payloads, different sizes. But again, as I said, we know that this design works well. It would clear the enemy walls and land in the city, and you saw the kind of blast that ensued. There's a trade-off with size, of course. A bigger rocket will create a bigger blast when it strikes, but it also requires more force to shoot it. I thought that magic could help that along too. We don't have to depend only on what the force of the propulsion itself can do. I think magic, force magic specifically, has a lot to offer in this regard."

Caitlyn nodded. "The enemy has no idea what's coming their way. I have to confess, I was skeptical about this idea at first. I was afraid that the Glavonaks—and, sorry love, you as well—were like three boys having good fun playing with fire, basically."

Anders laughed. "Well, there is an aspect of that. But it's serious too."

She smiled tenderly. "I see that it is. And I apologize for doubting you. This weapon will usher in a new era of warfare, but we cannot worry yet about what that will mean. Right now, the rights of mages in southern Thedas are at stake. And these rockets will be a crucial factor in winning rights permanently for us, for all those mages who follow us, and for our children. That's what we have to focus on."

Anders nodded. "It's coming," he said, taking her hands affectionately in his. "We've been through a lot together—we've fought for this cause for years, and we've made serious sacrifices for it—but victory is near. I just know it."


Notes: First of all, the Asunder timeline. It is not clear to me exactly when the attempt on Justinia's life occurred. In my AU, it happened in Kingsway 9:39 Dragon. The schism spy's reference to Wynne's arrival in Val Royeaux in chapter 72 (of my story) is intended to get Leliana and Elissa out of the ball (in the book, this agent merely says it's someone from Ferelden), but just to be clear, Wynne did arrive in Val Royeaux. She did not come from Adamant, however. Justinia sent her to Adamant to rescue Pharamond sometime after the assassination attempt. That is ongoing now. In my AU, Wynne made contact with Brycen as a moderate Templar who shared her views about Justinia and keeping the status quo instead of joining Hawke's war.

Please hear me out about the weapons tech: I gave a lot of thought to this to keep it as a plausible evolution from canon. China had gunpowder-propelled rockets in the 13th century CE cased in wood and bamboo. Rockets fell out of favor for several centuries with the invention of cannons and guns, but they returned when iron-cased Mysore rockets were developed in India in the 18th century. Congreve rockets, used in the Napoleonic wars, were inspired by these, and mine are based on Congreve rockets.

If brilliant people had worked together, I see no reason why this couldn't have been invented. I also don't think Thedas's history must mirror ours. Dwarves work with metal, and the Qunari already have cannons, so I think metal would occur to Glavonak and Anders immediately.