"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do it."

"In past years, the arl—or arlessa—has always taken part in the ceremony to begin the Wintersend festivities. It's tradition," Revered Mother Leanna said. Her voice was calm but firm in a way that implied she was used to being obeyed in the end.

"Bann Nerys did it just fine by herself last year," Adara argued.

"That was only because your duties took you elsewhere, my lady. Much as they also did the year before that." There was a gentle accusation in Leanna's voice, but Adara could not argue that point: she had indeed ensured that she was nowhere near Amaranthine for Wintersend the past few years. For precisely this reason.

"I'm putting in an appearance, aren't I? I'll be overseeing the tourneys and everything, but I will not lead anyone in any hymns. Or the Chant. It simply isn't going to happen," Adara said stubbornly.

It wasn't exactly stage fright. Adara had been thrown in front of enough groups of powerful and important people to have learned how to push through her nerves and do whatever had to be done. Historically, that had never required singing, but it wasn't even anxiety over her singing voice that troubled her. Something about standing in front of the Chantry, piously and obediently singing hymns to ask for the Maker's blessings, rankled her. It felt too much like a public acceptance of the things she was told the Maker thought of her: that she was lesser. Corrupted. Cursed. Doubly so, in fact: she was a mage and an elf.

Adara still believed those things most days—years of sermons and lectures in the Circle were not so easily undone—but she would not be complicit in giving it credence.

Adara held firm until Mother Leanna was forced to admit defeat. If she continued to argue with Adara, the ceremony would get a late start, and the crowd outside would only grow more restless. Even the most pious Andrastians among them were ready to begin the reveling that accompanied a day of celebrating the end of winter and ushering in a new spring.

"You don't need to tell me that was foolish of me," Adara said later to Nathaniel as they walked more or less aimlessly through the crowded streets. The tourneys wouldn't begin until later in the afternoon, so for now they were free to wander the city and sample the large variety of street food available. Nolan walked with them: he had drawn the short straw for who would stay close to the commander while most of the other Grey Wardens participated in the fun.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Nathaniel said around a mouthful of fried dough. The effect was almost comical since he so rarely allowed himself to speak without perfect decorum.

He swallowed before continuing: "It would have been a nice gesture, but it's not as important as Mother Leanna seems to think. My father did it for years, and I don't think anyone was ever happy about it: him, or the people stuck listening. Terrible singing voice, and he was angry the whole time. Wherever he is now, I'm sure he considers getting out of it to be the one benefit of death." Nathaniel sounded cheerful, despite talking about his late father that Adara killed. Or helped to kill: there were so many fights during the Blight that she couldn't remember who was responsible for every killing blow.

Nathaniel said something else, but Adara couldn't hear him over the crowd as they passed some kind of puppet show that had its audience shouting and laughing. The streets were packed fuller than Adara had ever seen them. Adara did not care for the press of the crowd, and not even the promise of interesting food made it easier to bear.

There was nothing for it, though. She had to be here at least until the tourneys were finished. There had to be quiet areas of the city for her to find, but Adara didn't want the Wardens escorting her to be deprived access to the general celebratory atmosphere. They were almost certainly finding it more enjoyable than she did. In addition to street food, there were performers on every corner—some from far off parts of the world—and merchants from out of town selling more exotic goods. The city was also providing a great deal of free ale. A truly ridiculous number of ale barrels were stacked up and down the main street that formed a hub for the festivities by virtue of also being the broadest street. The bann must have accidentally ordered too much, but Adara knew they would all be empty by day's end regardless.

"Commander!" Nolan piped up excitedly. "There's a woman from Rivain over there with a snake people say is as big as a man. They say she dances with it. Can we..."

"Let's go have a look," Adara said indulgently. Nolan's eagerness was admittedly endearing, and Adara was also curious about the claim that any snake could grow to be the size of a man. There was also a stall selling what appeared to be flowers made out of glass, and Adara desperately wanted to have a look at them.

Maybe the day wouldn't be so unbearable.

.

.

It had not taken any effort for Carver to convince Stroud that they needed to intervene before the Faithful could enact whatever plans they had for a "whole ass shipload" of blackpowder, as Vivian put it. One glance at the letter and a mention that the Faithful had their sights set on a Warden-Commander was enough for Stroud to suggest himself that they immediately give pursuit. There was no information about the ship's destination, but Carver had a strong hunch, to say the least, that it was bound for Amaranthine. The Wardens would be a day behind the Faithful, but if the Faithful weren't expecting to be pursued, they still might have enough time to stop whatever plans they had in mind.

As they traveled, they discussed possibilities. "If they truly have that much blackpowder, could they intend to breach Vigil's Keep?" Stroud mused.

"Unless they also have an army, I don't think so," Carver said with a frown. Not that he had ever properly stopped frowning since discovering that the Faithful were up to something again. "I'm sure they'd love to destroy the place, but it's too well-defended. They couldn't smuggle that much blackpowder inside, and everyone would notice if someone started stacking up barrels outside the walls."

As their ship pulled into an unusually crowded port, Carver and Stroud exchanged dismayed glances. "Fuck. I forgot it was Wintersend," Carver cursed. The port and the city itself were packed with visitors and revelers. Tracking down anything was going to be a nightmare in this chaos.

"The Faithful probably did not forget," Stroud said grimly. "A shipload of blackpowder is overkill for a single woman, after all."

"Their other attempts haven't worked out well for them. Maybe they think overkill is their best chance."

"Or they want to send a message."

Carver gave him a stunned look. "What do you mean? They just want Adara—the commander dead. No one else."

"A violent act to show that she is not in control and that she is not accepted by the people could remove her in a different way." Stroud gave Carver a very tired look. "My family played the Grand Game in Orlais before it killed them. In the Game, you learn that there can be more than one way to outmaneuver your opponent, however unsavory some methods may be."

"So you think the blackpowder is still in the city?"

"I do. We must find it before they set it off, or we must try and convince the people to evacuate..." Stroud trailed off. They both knew that would be a futile endeavor with the holiday in full swing.

"We'll try to do both," Carver said. "We find Adara and the bann and explain what's going on, and we'll keep our eyes open along the way."

They disembarked their ship and made their way towards the center of town. It was dishearteningly slow going, even if the sight of two Grey Wardens clearly on a mission did quickly intimidate a lot of people into getting out of the way.

"I don't know how we're supposed to find anything in all of this," Carver complained.

"We split up. I will find the bann, and you find the commander."

Except Carver had no goddamn idea how to find her. She was tiny enough that it wasn't hard to lose sight of her on a normal day, let alone all of this mess. He instead looked for someone, anyone, in Grey Warden armor who could likely point the way. That was easier to do, and eventually he saw Leo. The warrior was nearly as tall as Carver, which meant he stuck out in a crowd.

Leo looked startled when Carver bounded up to him without so much as a hello and demanded to know where Adara was. He pointed towards the main thoroughfare, staring after Carver in confusion. "I'm glad you're back," Leo called after him.

"I'm not back. I don't think. I don't know," Carver called back over his shoulder.

Despite the adrenaline coursing through him, something in Carver's chest still tightened when he finally caught sight of Adara, and he halted in place to watch her for a moment. Only a few months had passed, but somehow it felt like a lifetime since the last time he'd seen her. Even his most vivid memories did not do justice to how lovely she was, and he wished he had more time to just look at her for a minute before she noticed him. Petite with overlarge dark brown eyes in a sweet face, she never cut a physically imposing figure, but there was something dignified about the way she carried herself. And those were just the things that anyone could see. Not as many people saw the way her face quirked when she was trying to hide a shy smile, or how easy it was to make her blush, or the way her nose wrinkled when she was angry.

She was perusing a stall selling what looked like glass flowers, which had to be the most useless things Carver had ever seen. Adara turned away from the stall holding a glass lily and looking incredibly pleased, which made him want to chuckle. Then she raised her eyes and looked straight at him.

"Carver?"

Hearing her say his name shook him out of his stillness, and he cursed silently at himself for wasting time. Carver rushed to close the distance between them but stopped a few feet shy of her. He needed to warn her about the blackpowder, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was an awkward "hey." Maker.

.

.

A glass flower was a very useless thing to have, but Adara liked useless things sometimes. She spent much of her life worrying that she was worth nothing beyond her own usefulness. It was comforting to know that there were places in the world where even useless things were still enjoyed.

"There is no way that thing is surviving the day," Nathaniel said, but his tone was amused and not mocking.

"Watch and see," Adara said with a little sniff, looking around in search of Nolan. He was probably still talking to the dancing snake woman. After her performance, Adara and Nolan argued over what it meant for a snake to be 'as big as a man.' The serpent was a great deal longer than Adara was tall, but she still outweighed it.

"It's taller than me!" Nolan argued.

"You can't say it's as big as a human if it's not even heavier than an elf," Adara insisted.

At some point in the discussion, Nolan decided he needed to consult with the snake woman herself and he'd gotten immediately distracted by her instead. The snake was draped lazily across its mistress's shoulders, apparently content to rest while Nolan flirted with his mistress shamelessly and mercilessly.

Nathaniel frowned in Nolan's direction. "I'm going to make sure he isn't saying anything stupid," he said. "Like inviting her back to the Keep, or asking her to marry him."

Adara carefully tucked the glass lily into an inner pocket of her tunic. When she looked up again, her eyes locked with Carver Hawke's. Her heart tripped over itself before beating normally again. "Carver?" She was afraid she was hallucinating, but he seemed as real as ever standing in front of her.

"Hey," was all he said.

Adara missed him terribly, feeling his absence every day like an open wound. She had memorized his features long before she had sent him away, but memories were always lacking in something. Memories could remind her of how tall and broad-shouldered he was, the sharp contrast between his dark hair and pale skin, and his strong features, but they couldn't quite capture the fierce intensity in his eyes that stunned her to silence sometimes or how a rare smile lit up his face.

"Hi," she managed.

"I got your letter."

Adara flushed. "Oh. Good. Did you read it?" Maker, what a stupid thing to say, of course he read it. Idiot.

He nodded and then gave his head a little shake. "Listen. I didn't come here because of that."

"Oh," she said, confusion and disappointment warring inside her. "What are you doing here then?"

"I'm with Stroud. He's around here somewhere looking for Bann Nerys. The Faithful stole a lot of qunari blackpowder from Kirkwall and brought it here. Stroud thinks they're going to set it off in the city today. We probably don't have a lot of time."

Adara stared at him in stunned silence for a moment. "First, what is blackpowder?" she asked.

"It's stuff that explodes. No lyrium or magic. The qunari are pretty cagey about it, but smugglers got their hands on a bunch after the fighting in Kirkwall. Now the Faithful have it."

"Maker, I'd hoped we were finished with them," Adara murmured to herself. "Zevran and Leliana have been busy tearing them apart. They shouldn't have any more backers in Orlais. How did they manage this?"

Carver shrugged. "A last hoorah maybe? We need to get people out of the city. Or get the blackpowder out of the city, but we don't know where it is. We don't know for sure that it's even here, but Stroud has a good hunch."

Adara frowned. "I don't know how to even begin to shut all this down without starting a riot," she said grimly, looking around at the happy crowd." She drew in a deep breath, buying herself a few seconds to organize her thoughts. "We'll get the Wardens to start searching for this blackpowder. I'll have Constable Aiden put every city guard on alert and start trying to herd people into areas we've already cleared."

"Trouble?" Nathaniel asked as he and Nolan approached. "Hawke," he greeted Carver. Nolan said nothing, and Adara supposed he hadn't forgiven Carver for smashing in his nose.

"Carver came to tell us that the Faithful are still active, and they're planning to set off explosives in the city. We need to find the rest of the Wardens and get searching. Carver, is there anything we should be looking for in particular?"

He shrugged. "They keep it in barrels, so… search every barrel you can find?" That was nearly as bad as finding a needle in a haystack. Adara sighed heavily before being struck with a horrible thought.

"Fuck. The ale barrels. We need to check them. Nathaniel, take Nolan to get the others. Carver and I will get started."

"This entire damn street is lined with barrels," Carver complained as they headed closer to the open-sided tents from which ale was being dispensed.

"I know. And people really aren't going to be too happy about all the ale we're going to ruin while we search."

"If they end the day in one piece, then they can shut up about it."

Adara smiled and glanced up at him. "I'm really glad you're here," she said.

Carver looked down at her, his gaze about as soft as she'd ever seen it. "Me too."

"LET IT BE KNOWN," someone shouted from up ahead, next to the ale tent. Carver and Adara exchanged a look before breaking into a run.

The human wore the armor of a templar beneath his cloak. One arm was raised above his head holding a torch, and Adara's heart sank. "LET IT BE KNOWN THAT WE GOOD FERELDANS WILL BEND THE KNEE TO NO MAGE OR ELF. WE ACCEPT DEATH FIRST!"

Time slowed down. The hand that held the torch opened. The torch tumbled out of the man's hand and into the opened barrel next to him. Adara's heart sank even further as she realized they hadn't been fast enough.

Carver realized it too. His long strides had carried him farther than her, but he turned back to lunge for her, pulling her tight against his chest as a roaring sound grew louder and louder before erupting into a thunderclap. One thunderclap was echoed dozens of times, and the very air seemed to tear itself into pieces.

Adara threw up a magical shield, but it was immediately consumed by a wave of noise and fire and sheer energy. Like insects trying to withstand an ocean wave, they were picked up and hurled away. Adara felt only pain before feeling nothing at all.