"What are you doing?" Fenris demanded from right over my shoulder, making me jump in surprise.

"Fuck!" I nearly brought my hammer down on my fingers, only just barely slamming it into the wooden base of a chair instead. "Don't do that!"

He appeared on my left, frowning as usual, and then repeated himself. "What are you doing?"

"Making a chair. Obviously." I snapped, carefully settling my aim in for my next swing. "Hold it in place for me."

The other Elf frowned more deeply... then reached out and held it steady as I resumed hammering the thick nail down through the seat and into the last leg. A good three swings did it, finishing the creation of a stool. Now I just needed to get the back on to turn it into an actual chair. A roughly built one, but sturdy enough. I hoped.

"Why are you making a chair?" He said once I'd pulled back.

"Because the house that Thrask is turning into a Templar outpost is in terrible shape, and he needs furniture." Using my hammer, I pointed to the various other citizens of the Alienage hard at work in the main square. "Chairs, tables, drapes, a new door... stupid place practically has to be rebuilt from the ground up."

"So I see." Fenris replied, "But that does not answer my question. Why are you doing this?"

I finally got what he was asking, and it made me scowl. "I'm not better than any of these people just because some cosmic fuck-up gave me magic, Fenris."

He narrowed his eyes. Fenris had heard my story about my past from Isabella, and he very much didn't believe it. Any of it, but especially the part where I'd only been turned into a mage when I'd arrived. He'd strongly suggested that he thought I was a fellow ex-Tevinter slave who'd volunteered for an experiment to become a mage. That I'd used that as my way out of my servitude.

That had rather soured the first card night he'd come to, and I'd only barely stopped myself from throwing what I knew about his actual past in his face when his comments stayed that disparaging through the evening.

The second time had been better, mostly because Isabella had forced him to admit that my complete inability to speak or understand Tevene hurt the theory. And the fact that she, for reasons I wasn't quite clear on, was fond of both Merrill and I. I still had no idea what relationship Fenris had with her, but the simple fact that Isabella liked us was apparently enough to make him back down. We still weren't friends, not by any means, but we'd settled for being on speaking terms. For now, at least.

At the end of the day, Fenris and I were both far too prickly. We both seemed to know that, but he was as interested in changing his personality as I was interested in changing mine. Eventually we'd get into another spat, one that Isabella would probably have to break up, but until then we'd try out best to be civil.

"And besides," I said, a little more softly as I tried to be a little more open with him for once. "I like building things. It's... peaceful, I guess. About the only thing in my life that is these days."

His eyes stayed right on mine, unblinking, as if he was trying see into my soul.

It was extremely uncomfortable, and I heard myself go back to being annoyed. "You going to help, or just stare at me?"

Fenris grunted once, then reached down and grabbed the back to the chair I was working on. With the extra pair of hands it went a lot faster; I got that one done pretty quickly, and between us we manged to get the next one done in under an hour. A couple of local teens took them both, carrying them off to the new Templar Guardhouse, while Fenris and I retreated to the shade of the Vhenadahl.

Elder Leras' wife was there with water, though she gave me an exceptionally sour look when she poured some into wooden cups for us.

"She seems fond of you." He noted when the old woman stalked off.

"I told her the local tradition of arranging marriages is a bunch of bullshit, and that I wouldn't put up with it." I told him between sips of the cool, disgustingly flavorless liquid. "She's been in a snit with me ever since."

He huffed out a little sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "So I've heard from the servants in Hightown."

I glanced at him, "You did open your new mansion up to them?"

"They may rest and eat, so long as they do not linger." His armor creaked as he shrugged. "They have to enter by the back to avoid letting too many eyes spot them, but they're grateful all the same."

"...thank you." I said quietly. "That could help cut down on the abuse they suffer running all the way back here, if they can wait at your place then travel in groups."

He shrugged again, sipping his own water. "It cost me nothing."

Which was true. Just as in the game, apparently no one was eager to buy out Danarius' old mansion despite his lack of presence in the city. It was one thing to seize the property of dead Altus, proven to be Maleficar. Seizing the property of a full-on Magister who wasn't a proven criminal was, well, something else.

End result was that after we'd cleared it out, an entirely anticlimactic evening thanks to Fenris already knowing the locations of every zombie and bound spirit within, it was just going to remain empty and abandoned apart from his presence. Which made it an equally good place for other elves to sneak into and rest before making the long trek back down to the Alienage.

"True." I told him, "But it was still my idea, and you've made it clear you don't trust me."

"I do not." He agreed, "But a good idea remains one, even if a mage came up with it. So long as you make sure they aren't getting too much out of the deal."

I rolled my eyes, "Yes. That's me. Master of ulterior motives. Did you come down here to pick a fight, or did you need something?"

His eyes dropped to his cup, scowling into it a little more heavily than usual.

"You're bored, aren't you?"

The cup rose, letting him down the rest of it before admitting. "Extremely. This city seems as good a place as any to finally confront Danarius, but that means I am forced to wait until he comes himself. That could be months or even years from now. I am not used to... idleness."

Years. It would be years. "Sounds like you need a job. Or a hobby."

"I am considering both. Do you know of any other slavers who need to be eliminated?"

I glanced at him, "If I did, I'd already be trying to go after them."

"Point." He tipped his head, "It is... an admirable attitude, for a mage."

"You just had to add 'for a mage', didn't you?" I scoffed, but told him what I knew all the same. "Right now I've got a few rumors of people out in the hills, maybe trying to stalk the Dalish clan out there, or trying to go after travelers. I don't have more than rumors right now, and honestly I'm pretty swamped with everything else that's going on. If you want to chase those stories down I'd appreciate it. We can get the whole gang together to take them out when you find out if they're really out there."

Fenris perked up slightly. "You would trust me?"

"To hunt slavers? Absolutely. To stand guard over me while I slept? Hell no." His snort of amusement, and slight nod, felt like a win. "Talk to Deywen tonight. Short, brown hair, has a birthmark on the left side of his neck. He works the stables outside of the walls. He's been the one telling us the rumors."

"When will he return?"

"Sunset at the earliest."

"I see." He slowly pushed himself away from the tree, stretching out his left arm. I held out my free hand, and he stared at it for a moment before I nodded toward his cup. He gave his over before going on, "Then I suppose I shall need to occupy myself until then. Do you have more chairs to build?"

I shook my head, "I've got to get up to Hightown. Brennan said it's happening today, and Varric will want to know how the details. And after that I need to drop off some letters for him at the Merchant's Guild, then do some errands of my own."

Fenris nodded, "Then I will apply myself here. When is the next card night?"

"Every night is turning into card night, thanks to Isabella." I replied. "See you then."

He merely grunted, walking off to help a pair of boys carry a cupboard that was far too heavy for them. I watched for a moment, then returned our cups to the little table holding them all. The old matriarch of the Alienage glared at me a bit more when I did, I gave her my most annoying smile in return, and then I slipped back across the square to my house.

A quick change of clothes into my leather armor, picking out a cloak, and the belting of my sword later, and I was knocking on Merrill's door.

"...yes?" She called through it.

"I'm off to Hightown, then the Docks. Fenris is visiting the Alienage, just so you know."

Her door cracked open a little, letting me see her nervous features. "Oh. He's, um, not coming in here, is he?"

I eyed her, "I don't think so, but if you're cutting yourself then you should lock the door behind me."

My roommate winced. "...it's not working like it should, I needed the power."

"Merrill, we've been over this. I'm not judging you for it, just... be careful, all right? Maybe leave it off until tomorrow. I'll be home all morning and I can help clean you up after, and make sure you don't overdo it."

"I... ir abelas, that's probably smart." She sighed, pulling the door open more. Letting me see the shard of her Eluvian gleaming white on her end table... and the rough bandage she'd tied around her left arm. "Um, before you go..."

I was already reaching down, carefully tugging the cloth away from her skin. The cut wasn't bad; shallow and straight, though still bleeding a bit. "This is clean, right?"

"Yes."

I nodded, "Straighten your arm out for me."

She did, letting me get the long strip more evenly settled around her arm. A few quick wraps later and I tied it off far more tightly than she'd have been able to manage with just one hand, and got myself a shy smile when I finished.

"Rest." I told her, reaching up and poking her nose before she could dodge it. "And I mean rest. Not wander around the city."

"I will, I will. I promise." She nimbly evaded my second attempt to bop her nose, giggling as she closed the door on me. "Be safe!"

"I'll be back in time to walk you to the Hanged Man!" I promised in return.

Then I was off on the walk to Hightown, jogging quickly up the steps out of the Alienage, pulling my cloak up and over my head as I did. At the top I had to pause, waiting so that the working crews swarming Thrask's new Guardhouse could clear away the garbage they'd been hauling out of the old home.

Newly minted Knight-Lieutenant Thrask gave me a cheerful wave as I went by, one that I returned, smiling as he went back to helping haul a brand new table in through the front door.

Helping him was his only subordinate; a weathered old Templar named Ser Emeric. He'd been studiously polite when he introduced himself to the assembled Elders, asked me pertinent questions about the Night Watch's guard rotation, and then made himself every child's best friend when he'd brought his young Mabari along when he examined the outer walls.

Ser Hound was currently lounging in the shade, panting happily as a couple of teenage girls took a break from helping to pet and coo over him.

"Don't spoil him." I said as I went past, "That mutt's smug enough already."

"Awww, don't listen to her." One of the Elven girls gave him a scratch behind the ears, "The Elder's just jealous she isn't as cute as you are."

I flipped them off for the crack about my age, which made them both descend into girlish laughter as I walked into the streets of Lowtown.

So far things seemed to be going all right with our new guards. Two Templars and a still growing Mabari weren't exactly a crack military force, but they were a huge improvement over the zero Human protectors we'd had a week ago. Even better, they'd come with official sanction from Meredith herself that the Alieange Night's Watch was authorized to exist, carry arms, and maintain the peace within the Alienage's walls.

According to Thrask and Brennan, more than a few nobles had promptly thrown massive fits over the idea of armed elves within the city. They'd pressed the Grand Cleric to intervene, which she had; she'd limited us to a maximum of fifty members, decreed we had to be 'supervised' by the Templar Order, and that we'd provide constant updates on our membership, arms, and status.

There'd been a lot of local laughing at the idiocy of the shems when that had actually worked to calm them down. After all, we didn't even have thirty people in the Watch yet, and we'd been the ones to want Templar protection to begin with. Elthina followed that be delegating the role of Chantry liaison to the Templars, and Meredith named Thrask to the job.

We'd still have to write reports, if only to provide them if Meredith asked, but he was just going to endlessly stockpile them in his new guardhouse on the assumption she'd never ask. He'd certainly never let the nobility see them.

The rest of the decree was a little more annoying, but entirely expected. Our legal authority began and ended within the Alienage's walls, anyone we arrested had to be turned over to the City Guard, we had no power to conduct trials or even investigations, the Grand Cleric had the right to disband us at any time, and in the event of a war, we'd all be immediately conscripted to defend the city as auxiliaries to the Templar Order.

Put together, that quieted most of the complaints from the nobility. Once they were assured that we weren't demanding pay, or actual rights in the city, they'd made a few token complaints, made certain we couldn't actually get powerful enough to challenge them, and then stopped caring. After all, if they wanted to abuse their elven servants, they could do that in the privacy of their homes. No need to walk all the way down to the Alienage like commoners.

In contrast, the city's lower classes were... not quite riotous, but it wouldn't take much to push them over the edge. Being officially allowed to protect ourselves from predation, only within the confines of the Alienage, was apparently a titanic slap in the face to their 'rights' to come in whenever they pleased to beat, rape, and murder us.

Their champion was Guard-Captain Jeven, who'd already made a public speech denouncing the Knight-Commander's 'regrettable' decision without quite attacking the Grand Cleric who'd actually been responsible for it. He'd strongly implied that his Guard would look the other way should anything befall elves, since we had our own Guard now, and anyone we arrested and turned over would be 'most quickly exonerated from false accusations'.

The commons ate it up, and turnout for another speech at the Docks tomorrow was expected to be very high.

Shame he'd never make that appointment.

My fingers curled around the stone as I hauled myself up the side of a clothing shop, easily scaling the wall thanks to it's many decorative ledges. Reaching the roof, I paced over to the side overlooking the Viscount's Keep, and sat down to watch events unfold.

I'd cut it close; the fireworks were already starting.

Two massive Templars had Guard-Captain Jeven held by the arms, manhandling him down the steps of the Keep. At the base of it were two figures standing apart from everyone else; Viscount Dumar and Knight-Commander Meredith. Behind them was a line of mixed Guards and Templars, working to keep an increasingly large, increasingly excited crowd at bay.

The Viscount had a surprisingly good speaking voice when he cut loose, easily piercing the noise of the crowd. "Knight-Commander Meredith! By my authority as Viscount of Kirkwall, you may begin these proceedings!"

"Thank you, Viscount!" ...wow. All right, I'd thought Dumar had a good voice. Meredith's ringing bellow put him to shame, and shut up the last in the crowd still chattering. "Jeven Smithson! By order of the Viscount, attested by the Grand Cleric, you are stripped of your rank, your title, and your holdings! You are charged with accepting bribes, refusal to conduct your duties, abuse of your power of arrest, general corruption, rendering aid to slavers, sheltering maleficar, and conspiracy to murder those under your protection!"

Jeven's shouts weren't nearly as powerful as theirs. The gasps and murmurs of the crowd didn't help, I only caught the last few words. "...rights as a noble!"

"You may invoke the Right of Challenge." Meredith replied, drawing her sword in a theatrical flourish that shut the audience up again. She brought it around, resting the point on the ground before her, both hands on the hilt. "I am your accuser! Viscount, with your permission, we shall use these grounds for the duel!"

"You may!" Dumar replied, "Your accuser has declared themselves, and the ground is chosen. As Viscount, I say that swords shall be the weapons used, and that duel should commence immediately before the Maker!"

"I..." Jeven faltered, visibly staggering.

The Viscount went on, pressing him. "This will be your only chance to invoke the Right of Challenge, do you so declare? If you refuse, the Grand Cleric herself shall be the judge in your trial."

It was barbaric medieval theater, and I was loving every moment of this Game of Thrones shit.

I especially loved it when Jeven folded. He looked as if he'd have collapsed if not for the Templars holding him up, his head shaking wildly back and forth. Bastard probably couldn't believe this was happening.

Too fucking bad for him.

The mixed crowd of Humans and Dwarves turned on him in a moment. The wealthy citizens and nobility of Kirkwall may have liked abusing his blatant corruption, but they apparently had no qualms about kicking him when he was down. Mocking laughs and cheers of support for Meredith's showmanship made him break down entirely; he fell to his knees, unable to keep his head up.

"Then these proceedings are concluded." Dumar said. "Knight-Commander?"

"Take him to the Gallows, to be interned until his trial before the Chantry and the Maker!" Meredith turned to her right, regarding the people waiting at attention. "Guard of Kirkwall! As of this moment, you are all under investigation by the Chantry for collusion in your Captain's crimes! You shall answer to Knight-Captain Rutherford until such time as the Viscount chooses a new leader. Sergeant Aveline Vallen! Sergeant Brennan Evighan! Escort the Viscount to his office, where you shall answer his questions to his satisfaction!"

Aveline and Brennan both stepped forwards, fists slamming into armor in salute. "Knight-Commander!"

And with that Dumar and Meredith declared the two finalists for Jeven's old job in front of the nobility, letting everyone know who they might have to work with next, and made it clear that none of the actual officers were being considered for the role. Considering how corrupt the bastard had been, it wouldn't surprise me if more than a few of the Lieutenants he'd picked would end up joining him in the Gallows sooner or later.

If they were smart they'd skip town now, ahead of the purge.

Huh. That was probably what they actually wanted to happen. An in-depth investigation of the whole Guard would take a long time, and take up a lot of Meredith's Templars. Templars she'd really rather have watching her imprisoned mages. But if she could scare the Guard into purging itself, by making everyone guilty of corruption flee the city...

...well, then everyone could just call them guilty and move on with life. Leave the remaining members of the Guard to clean up their own mess.

I watched for a bit longer as Jeven was hauled away, and as Aveline and Brennan tromped up the steps behind Dumar. The show was pretty much over at that point. Meredith and her goons followed their new prisoner, while the nobles began to disperse to do... whatever the hell nobles did during the day.

While Aveline kept going, Brennan paused halfway up the steps, turning to look around. Raising an arm, I gave her a cheerful wave from my high perch. She must have seen me, because she brought her own hand up in a little wave in return, then quickly hurried to catch up with the other candidate.

I kept watching until she vanished inside before standing, stretching my legs out a bit. It was time to resume my rounds for the day.

Using a mix of ledges and drain pipes to get back down to the ground, I got moving in the quick jog affected by servants who were trying to look busy. I got the usual sneers from the nobles as I slipped past them, and the occasional start of shock when they realized I had a sword on my belt.

It kind of ruined the 'I'm-just-a-servant' image I tried to project, but I wasn't about to be caught disarmed again.

Entering the Dwarven enclave made my mood sour quickly, as it always did. Where elves got the Alienage, and laws that stopped us from being treated like people, the surface Dwarves of Kirkwall owned the most disgustingly rich part of the city. Oh sure, there were plenty who lived in Darktown, or were barely surviving in Lowtown... but a Dwarf could always have hope that they'd strike it rich one day, be invited to the Merchant's Guild, and be able to afford to live up here.

The bastards even had a shopping mall that sprawled alongside the outer wall, because an open-air market wasn't homey enough for them. They had lanterns on tall posts, perfectly cobbled streets, and middle-class homes squeezed in between mansions that were built more underground than above.

Kids played next to fountains, parents grilled nugs under stone awnings,there was no smell of sewage in the air, and no sense of imminent violence. Replace the Dwarves with Humans and you might have been in any quiet European city. It had that old-world feel of timeless comfort that made you want to just... sit down and bask in it.

It wasn't quite Earth, but it was the closest I'd found on Thedas, and I hated the way it made me feel every time I came up here. It made me...

Warm breath tickled my ear, a pleased little sigh echoing on the wind.

"...fuck off Longing." I whispered. "I know it reminds me of home, makes me long for it. You don't have to brag."

Amusement filtered back across the tether connecting us, then faded as she nibbled on my emotions in silence after that.

Fortunately I didn't have to stay long. I went straight for the Merchant Guild's main headquarters, and got myself an annoyed look from the woman manning the front desk.

"Again?" She demanded, holding a stubby hand out.

"Again." I confirmed, handing over Varric's letters. "Any outgoing for him?"

"Yes. Verbal." When I nodded, she gave the message. "Deshyr Bartrand Tethras did not appear as scheduled for last night's banquet, nor last week's convention. The Guild is becoming increasingly concerned about his erratic behavior."

I nodded, and repeated the message back to her to make sure I had it.

"Good. Go."

I did, all too happy to leave. Getting back to Hightown, I stayed out of the main streets as best I could, heading back toward my usual route to Lowtown. From there I'd have to make the very long trip down to the docks, which even now was where most of the Ferelden refugees stayed.

Mostly because the docks were the only place that would hire them, apart from the mines outside the city.

Few would talk to elves without payment, which I stingily gave out, but the main problem right now was that almost none of refugees were recent arrivals. Their news was anything but up to date, and none of them could tell me anything about Hawke or the Wardens. Nothing at all on the former, and just rumors of the latter.

The only new news I'd really gotten was that Bhelen was King of Orzammar now. So... that was a great and terrible thing all at once.

I'd hoped to have Isabella help me interrogate a few of the sailors on incoming ships, get some news that way, but she'd immediately changed the subject when I'd tried to ask. Then blatantly flirted with me to keep the subject changed until I dropped it. She definitely had stolen the Qunari's book then, and was probably being hunted by her fellow pirates to boot. Either way she wasn't going near the Docks willingly, so I'd have to chance it on my own.

I was musing on the sailors' bars least likely to see me assaulted just for walking in when I all but collided with a group of Sisters coming around the next corner.

"Shit!" I hissed, quickly spinning out of the way, barely keeping my balance as I avoided stumbling into the front ranks. "Sorry!"

"Watch it, knife-ear!' The one I'd nearly run into spat, an otherwise pleasantly freckled face twisting in revulsion. "Your master should have trained you better!"

"Fuck off, bitch!" I spat back, momentary embarrassment giving immediate way to anger. "Go back to Tevinter if you want to treat us like slaves."

To my surprise she actually reared back, bringing a hand up as if to slap me.

Another hand seized her wrist. I followed that arm, and heard myself groan when I saw Sister Petrice scowling up a storm of her own. "The Grand Cleric will be told of your choice of words, Sister Leona. You have cost the Maker more than one soul with your lack of grace. She will not tolerate it much longer."

The other woman yanked her hand back, glaring. "Always threatening to tell tales to Elthina, Petrice. How childish of you."

Petrice's voice turned as dry as a desert. "Yes. How dare I tell her how you waste the Chantry's money buying baubles for your lover. Such a gracious use of the donations given to us by those with nothing. I trust he enjoyed the silks before you removed them from his body?"

"You..." Leona hissed, starting to draw a hand back again, only for another of the women to grab her.

"Enough." The short, dark-skinned woman sighed. "We are doing the Maker and Andraste no honor by behaving like this. Apologize to the poor girl for your words, Leona, you know they were unkind. Petrice will apologize in turn as well."

Leona glared down her nose at me, huffed, and turned and stomped off without a word.

"Bitch." I repeated to her back, making sure my voice carried.

She stiffened but kept marching. The other Sisters seemed to collectively sigh, a few giving Petrice and I disappointed looks of their own, then ran off to follow the rude one back out into the main thoroughfare.

...all of them except for Petrice.

"It is good to see you again, Lady Maeve." She smiled, clearly delighted to have run into me again, in spite of the circumstances.

"Hey, Petrice." I sighed. "Before you ask, yes, that was the one that hauled me out of the sermon by the ear."

"I did not doubt it. Are you perhaps free? I do not wish to presume, but I would dearly like to speak with you as a I said. I would gladly escort you to a luncheon, there is a very lovely cafe nearby."

Of course she wanted to talk. I was entirely ready to make my excuses and turn her down when my traitorous belly rumbled. Heat promptly ran across my cheeks and ears. Her smile widened, telling me she'd definitely heard.

"...fine, but I need to get to the docks before too long." I told her.

"I would be happy to escort you there as well." She assured me, turning and offering an arm as if she was a gentleman. "It will be my genuine pleasure."

I sighed again... then slid my arm through hers, hoping against hope that this wouldn't add yet more complications to my life.