"Knife Ears!"

The shout drew Merrill and I up short, the pair of us staring down a small mob of men and women standing protectively in front of Anders' clinic.

"What's your filthy kind doing here?" One of the men growled, hefting a club in warning. "The Healer's busy with real people. Get lost."

I forced myself to be civil. Anders was wary enough of us already, killing a bunch of locals on his doorstep wouldn't improve his opinion any. Especially if they were his patients, or family of his patients.

"Not here for healing." I called back. "We're just runners, dropping off supplies he ordered from the Deshyr. Ask him if he's ready for them. Otherwise we'll leave and try again later."

The man glared some more, eyes flicking to the bag hanging from my shoulder. "How about you just leave those supplies with us. We'll give 'em to him."

"No." I said flatly. "Would one of you just knock on the damned door and ask him?"

A woman shook her head, "We should run them off. Rumor is that the Knife-Ears all work for the Templars now. They might be here to turn him in."

"Oh, no." Merrill quickly shook her head. "That would be terribly rude of us. And besides, I think he still owes Maeve money from our last card game."

"Isabella won his debt from me right after." I reminded her. "You were passed out by then."

She pouted. "I always miss the fun parts."

"Enough." The leader snapped, completely missing the clinic's door swinging open behind him. "Dunno what your rabbits' game is, but we're not letting you in here. Fuck off-"

"Jefferies!" Anders' irritated shout shut him up, making everyone spin around to find the man they were 'protecting' glaring at the lot of them.

"I've told you this three times now. I do not need guards outside of my door." His fingers tightened on his staff, "I especially do not need guards that stop those who need treatment from seeing me."

"But they're-"

Anders interrupted him. "I know them both. Let them in, and go home before you open those cuts again. And you, Emily! I told you to stay off your feet for another two days! Someone get her back into bed before she undoes my work."

Thoroughly shamed, the tiny mob quickly dispersed in embarrassment. A few lingered just long enough to give Merrill and I final glares, or warning gestures, but then scattered when Anders barked at them to go home.

He waved us in once they'd gone, letting us into his little clinic.

"Nice place, for Darktown." I noted, looking around. I didn't remember this place at all from the game, but it proved to be a pleasantly large room, complete with wooden floorboards and plenty of candles serving as lights. Sure, it was all clearly beat up and built out of bits scavenged from other buildings, but it wasn't any worse than my apartment.

Apart from the lingering smell from outside. That was positively awful, if I was being honest.

"No patients in today?" I asked.

"The last few who needed care left this morning." Anders said, walking us past several cots to where a small table had been set up near the back. He sat at the main chair, leaving us to stand. "You're lucky. I was able to hear you all shouting before they tried anything. Do you actually have supplies from Varric, or is this about our other arrangement?"

"Both."

I shucked my pack, tipping it over to spill its goods onto the nearest cot. "Ten rolls of bandages, eighteen potions, five boxes of dried elfroot, a bound leather journal, three quills, and one inkpot."

He let out a relieved sigh, looking over it all. "Thank the Maker. I was getting low on most of that... wait, only four of them are lyrium potions? I paid for double that."

"Varric said his usual smuggler got strung up by Meredith just before we got back." I could only shrug. "He'll find a new one eventually, but supplies on that will be tight for a little while. He's got the four extra vials on a tab for you, no payment required once he can find some."

"I can do without, so long there isn't an outbreak." He looked a little mollified at the news. "And the rest?"

I glanced to Merrill, who opened the pouch on her belt and carefully pulled five palm-sized hoops out. Each one's center was filled with strings crisscrossing randomly, and had beaded feathers hanging from their edges. Pretty much exclusively gull feathers from near the docks, with just a couple of black ones from crows.

"Five working Dream-catchers." She smiled, handing them over.

Anders took them eagerly, "You've tested them?"

Merrill nodded. "Feynriel's been using his for a few days now. Now he wakes up in the Fade surrounded by a sphere of blue fire. He says it keeps all of the Spirits out and most of them very quiet."

"Thank the Maker." He closed his eyes for a long moment, then carefully took four of them and put them in a drawer. The last he kept in his grip, turning it over with his fingers. "I... can barely feel the magic on it, even with it in my hands. You're sure these will work as his does?"

"We're sure. We have drain nearly all of the magic out of them after we make them." Merrill answered his unspoken question. "I'm pretty sure that's why Maeve's first one for Feynriel burnt up like it did. Her magic clashed with his when he tried to push his mana into it."

"How?"

I sighed and tapped my sternum, "My fault, we think. How I layer and power the spells is all based on how I think the magic should work, and apparently I do my magical thinking completely backwards from how everyone else puts their spells together."

Merrill giggled, "Backwards magic wouldn't work. Sideways, maybe."

"Sideways then." I amended, "We think it's back to the magical sensing thing again."

Anders nodded slowly, for once not looking suspicious over my oddity in that area. He was probably too excited to have something that could help his fellow mages, particularly those who were bad with wards. Or who were too young to be able to cast them at all.

"You put your spells together based on impressions to your real senses, where we do so based on our direct feel of the magic." He said, getting it. "When Feynriel attempted to push his mana into your framework, his magic tried to change the spells to fit what his subconscious thought a Fade-Ward should be."

"Got it in one. Leads to... well, smoke, fire, spells unraveling." I grimaced, nodding to Merrill. "She blew out nine of them, trying to power them up, before we figured out what was going wrong. Then another five before we figured out a solution that seems to be working."

He snorted, holding up his, "How will this one work then? Did you make them, Merrill?"

"Oh no. I don't really understand how Maeve made one to begin with. I just found a way to keep her spells intact when someone else attempts to empower them with their own energy."

Anders' good humor faded in an instant, glancing down at the gloves and bracers covering up her hands and forearms, then getting his eyes back up to the thin scars on her left ear. "Tell me it wasn't blood magic."

"Umm... so I should lie?" She asked hesitantly.

"Maker's breath." He tossed the hoop onto his desk, "Really? Here I was trying to think past the fact that you've both made deals with demons, and you tell me you're using blood magic to make these?"

"Would you calm down? " I scowled at him. "It was the only thing that we could get to work. I make it, weave the spells together. She puts a drop of her blood onto the wood with her own spells to act as a conduit so anyone can charge it and key the Dream-catcher to their aura. Can you even tell the kind of magic she used?"

"That's not the point." Anders countered. "And what happened to all of that energy your poured into it during creation?"

I could only shrug, "We have to drain the excess mana or else it stays keyed to me and blows up."

He managed to make his already sour expression curdle a bit more. "Your pet Templar handling that? He knows about these?"

"The only person who can call Thrask a pet is his wife." I countered.

Merrill blinked, "Why would she?"

"It's a dirty thing."

"Ohhhh." She beamed. "You'll have to tell me more later."

"Ask Isabella. She'll be more dramatic about it." I smiled, shaking my head as I turned back to a thoroughly unamused Anders. "Yeah, took us a bit to find the right way to drain them without burning out the spells, but we got there."

Anders scowl didn't lesson, leaving me to cross my arms and huff. "Look, Anders. The point is that we got them to work. Feynriel's been using his just fine, and Merrill tested one at the Hanged Man last night. They work, and they'll work for anyone who can push enough mana into them. It's exactly what you asked for."

His clenched jaw slowly relaxed, "I suppose it is. Ignoring how you're making them for now, how long will they work for?"

"Long term? Mine's still running just fine months after I made it, and I don't think Merrill's additions will change that. On a single charge of mana? A couple of nights, depends on how much energy you shove into them. They don't get weaker when the mana runs low, don't worry about that. It's an all-or-nothing kind of thing."

"Could your Templar tell what it was?" He demanded next.

"He already knew. But if you mean could another Templar tell?" I shrugged, "I mean, it's still a magically enhanced object. If they pick it up they'll be able to tell it's not mundane, but Thrask can't feel mine unless he's holding it. Even then there's no way they'd know what it is or supposed to do. Just say it's a trinket some Nevarran merchant was through selling or something."

Anders grunted, glancing at his one more time. "What about making more of them? Preferably ones without blood magic involved."

I winced. "We're... still working on that part."

"It's nothing like a usual ward." Merrill confirmed with a nod, "Maeve likes to layer spells in very strange ways. Her magic is... like she's knitting it together. It's very fun to watch her try! A bit hard to follow though, but I'll get there eventually."

"And once she does," I added, "She'll be able to teach you how to do it, ideally without the blood and draining we've got to do for mine."

He exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "I suppose that's going to have to be enough for now. I'll need more than five though. How soon could you have twenty or thirty of them done?"

Another wince. "A while. On a good day we can make two or three, but things in the Alienage aren't... great right now. That's taking up nearly all of my time, and it's going to keep doing that for the next few of months."

His voice sharpened. "I thought all of your time was being taken up hunting mages."

I blinked in surprise, lips parting. "Fuck Anders. Don't tell me you're angry about that sick bastard we led the Templars to. Cullen told us what they found down there. That lunatic was literally cutting women up and trying to sew their parts together to rebuild the dead wife that he was obsessed with."

"I..." It was Anders turn to sigh, slumping back in his seat once more. "No, you're right. I heard the details. Thedas is better off with him dead. I can't blame you for guiding the Templars to his hiding place in the Foundry."

"Then what's with the attitude?" I demanded. "This can't be about those Tevinter assholes we dealt with. That was months and months ago."

"A few remember that, yes. And those same Templars you guided to the Foundry found plenty of books and research papers from the Circle there. My contacts in the Gallows say Meredith is using that as an excuse to enact an even harsher curfew on all mages. At least two of the Knight-Lieutenants are calling for Harrowed mages to lose their legal protection against tranquility."

He paused, then added more darkly, "Another is proposing that all mages simply be made Tranquil at once. Down to the children."

...damn. I think I remembered that bastard.

"...shit." I sighed. "The Mage Underground?"

"Considers all of Kirkwall's elves complicit with the Templars now." A note of warning entered his words, "And you in particular to be one of Meredith's chief agents. They remember how she personally came to check on you when you were nearly killed. A bounty is being discussed."

Merrill frowned, "A bounty on what?"

"Her head." Anders supplied. "It's not official yet, but I don't know if they'd tell me to begin with. They know we're acquainted, and I've already refused one demand that I use that to capture you so that they can make an example of you."

Well. Fuck. This wasn't sounding good. "This where you tell us that you can't be seen in public with us anymore?"

He blinked, then quickly shook his head. "Maker's breath, no. I don't especially trust you, not with deals you've made with that demon, but if these Dream-catchers work then... I'll keep overlooking that as much as I can. I'd certainly never wish for you to be murdered."

Merrill stirred, clearly ready to say something, but stayed quiet when I held a hand up. There wasn't any point in rehashing that argument right now.

"They should work." I assured him. "I'll try to get a couple more put together, but I can't make any promises on it."

"Do you want me to tell the Underground where I'm getting them?" He asked.

"Do you think it would help?" I countered.

"Probably not." He admitted. "They'd just think you were trying to buy their forgiveness, and they wouldn't trust the Dream-catchers."

That's what I thought. "Then I'd rather you didn't. No point if it won't help, and if they don't know it's us making them then they can't turn us into the Templars if they're captured again. Maybe just tell them that not all elves are against the mages, and are doing what they can."

Merrill nodded, speaking up that time, "Which we are. We made sure to let those twin boys slip away last week. We're only helping the Templars when mages hurt innocent people."

"A distinction I appreciate."

"Just not one other Mages do." I noted.

His expression was exhausted. "No. I never believed them when they told me that Kinloch Hold was a lenient Circle. What kind of leniency is a year of isolation just for trying to live a normal life? But the Gallows... the Gallows is worse. In Ferelden I was a radical. Here, I'm nearly a traitor because I refused to mourn the death of a murderer."

Merrill bit her lip, "They really mourned him?"

"Yes." That sour look returned, but this time it wasn't really directed at us. "Many toasted his memory, as if a butcher was worth honoring simply because he was a fellow mage. I was among a minority who refused. Mages deserve to be free, yes, but that doesn't mean free to replicate the worst excesses of the Magisters. If we fall to those levels then our freedom will be numbered by the days it takes an Exalted March to arrive on our doorstep."

Well. Holy hell. So this was Anders without Justice-Vengeance turning him into an extremist among extremists. Still pro-mage down to his bones, but with far more understanding and pragmatism.

"Anything we can do?" I asked.

Anders shrugged. "Try not to turn anyone else over to them for a while. I'll give your Dream-catchers to those who need them, try and cut off some of the complaints about Elves. Apart from that... well, as you said. Best you're not too involved. If the Underground learned that you were a fellow mage, working with the Templars... you'd certainly become a target then."

"Do they know about Merrill?" I asked.

"Not that I'm aware of. I haven't heard any references to her at all in my meetings." He paused, then admitted, "But they may not be telling me everything right now."

Right. That was a good point. "Thanks for the warning all the same. I'm going to be stuck in the Alienage for quite a while, so maybe that will take some attention off of us for a bit. That being said, if another murder-happy mage pops up that goes after Elves, I won't have a choice."

"I understand." He said. "I don't expect you to let your own people be killed simply to protect one of mine. Especially not one who will go that far."

Merrill hummed. "Couldn't you just tell them that we're letting the nice mages go?"

Anders let out a frustrated sound. "I did, Merrill. They didn't believe that you let anyone go at all. They didn't believe you even spotted them on their way out of the city. And again, if you did now, they'd think you were just trying to lure them into complacency. Let a few go now, so you could trap a dozen later."

"That's stupid." Merrill noted.

"I never said it wasn't." He replied, "But you don't have any idea how paranoid the Underground is right now. How terrified everyone is in the Gallows. Everyone suspects everyone else of being in league with the Templars until proven otherwise."

That phrase made me grimace. "I don't like what that implies."

A quick shake of his head, "No, nothing like murdering Templars. Not yet, at least. Just proof that you've been punished for speaking up for the rights of mages, paid your dues to the cause."

"Warn us if that changes?" I asked, "If they start blaming Elves for their problems we could see them copying the Chevalier's initiation ritual, and that would get ugly very fast."

He blinked. "The Chevalier's initiation...?"

My hand rose, a thumb drawing across my throat. "They go into Alienages for sport."

Anders closed his eyes, a soft exhale escaping his lips. "Maker's breath. Elves and mages should be working together in our struggle, not competing with one another over what scraps of freedom we can earn."

"I'd be happy to." I replied, "But a murderer is a murderer, regardless if they kill someone with a knife or with magic. Try and convince the Underground of that. Until then, we've got to do what we can to keep the Templars and Chantry happy with us. If that means giving the Templars sick bastards like that necromancer, than that's what we'll have to do."

"I'll try." He said, not sounding very hopeful. "Was there anything else?"

"Hanged Man tonight?"

"I'll likely need a drink or three, yes." A pause, then a question of his own. "Will Fenris be there?"

I fought the urge to scowl, "Two weeks and he's still holed up in his mansion. He won't speak to Varric, and barely talks to the servants he lets stop through."

"Surely he still talks to Isabella?"

Merrill winced. "Um, we think they had another row. Over Maeve and I. She gets that angry look in her eyes whenever he's brought up now."

The Gray Warden could only shake his head. "One would think a man born a slave would have more empathy for those in similar circumstances."

"Tevinter." I countered, "Destroys everything it touches, including empathy."

He opened his mouth... then closed it with a tired sigh. "Andraste's fate proves your point, just as what happened to Fenris shows how little they've changed."

We sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again, tapping the drawer containing the Dream-catchers. "Well. I should deliver these. I'll see you both tonight."

I held my hands up, "Before we go, I was hoping to talk to you about Denerim's Alienage. You were through there, with the Wardens?"

"Not as much as some of the others, but yes." He seemed to sigh. "And yes, the rumors are true. Loghain and Howe really did allow agents of Tevinter to enslave the Alienage's residents by the score."

"Elgar'nan..." Merrill lowered her gaze, "Um. How many?"

His voice was grim. "Hundreds at least. Maybe thousands."

She closed her eyes, leaning into me when I slid an arm around her shoulders. My next question was a twofer; aimed to cheer her up, and aimed to get me some answers. "The Wardens stopped it though, right? Was Maharial one of them?"

"He was." Anders said, a faint smile appearing. "To hear Ogrhen and Hawke say it, the three of them killed the entire Magisterium in a single evening of wrath. I'll tell you the full story the next time we sit down for drinks. For now, though, I really do need to get going."

I nodded, rising. A few quiet goodbyes later, Merrill and I were back in Darktown's tunnels, quickly heading for the nearest way back to the surface. An old ladder deposited us in an alley filled with the usual detritus and waste. We didn't linger, moving through the back streets in silence until we found the southern wall of the Alienage.

That served as our guide back around to the gates. Considering the morning hour they were wide open, with only a pair of the Night's Watch sitting on a crudely built tower just on our side. Both of the men gave us cheerful waves that we returned.

"No problems?" I called up.

"No, lady!" Nethon shouted back. I rather liked Nethon, he was one of the few older men in the Alienage who seemed to both like and approve of what I was doing. It also helped that he knew what he was doing with a bow, and trained the others when Zatris was too busy to.

Putting him in charge of the morning shifts at the Gate had been a reward he'd seemed to appreciate.

"A team of those Dwarves are here." He went on, pointing to the west. "Say they're checking the ground for the rebuilding. They've already marked which apartments are going to be removed to make space for the Chantry on the east side of the square."

Meaning my apartment was due to be torn apart in the next couple of days. I looked forward to having a nicer home, even if I wasn't looking forward to having to live in the Gatehouse for a few months. Speaking of...

"Is one of our Templars with them?" I asked.

"No, lady. They're sleeping still. Zatris is escorting them instead."

"Good." I gave him another wave, "If anyone older than you asks for me, tell them I'm not home."

He laughed, "As you command, lady!"

Merrill beamed at me as we headed home, "You didn't yell at them for calling you a lady."

"I've given up." I sighed. "We're going to have to start packing soon, get everything up to the guardhouse. You sure you're all right staying with them? We could convince Isabella to let you stay in her suite."

"Oh no, it's fine." She smiled. "Ser Hound may not be a griffon, but he's very cute. And Emeric and Thrask are good men, for Humans."

I nodded, digging my key out of my pocket. "Yeah. We're lucky to know them. I am getting worried that they might try to assign more Templars down here though, once they build an actual Chantry."

She hummed, watching as I unlocked the door. "Won't Ser Thrask still get to choose them though?"

"Yeah, but he could make a mistake." I shoved the wood aside with a shoulder, and frowned at the fact that a fire was going and half the candles were lit despite the fact that Fiolya was out at work as well.

A longer look around revealed the culprit; there was a pirate sitting in my chair, her boots up on our table. What looked like the nice bottle of brandy I'd stolen from Varric was open beside her, one of my cups in her hands.

"...how the fuck did you get here without Nethon seeing you?"

Isabella grinned, unrepentant as ever. "I have my ways, sweet thing."

"Hm?" Merrill poked her head around me, "Isabella! By the Dread Wolf, why didn't you tell us you were visiting? I'd have made Maeve clean up a bit."

I poked at her side, which made her giggle and skip past me. Isabella chortled around a sip of the liquor, setting aside once I'd closed the door behind us.

"So, why are you visiting?" I asked.

Her sultry grin put me on my guard even before she spoke, "I was hoping to ask for just a little favor between friends."

"Uh huh." I leaned on the door, crossing my arms. "How little of a favor are we talking?"

"Oh a trifle, nothing more." Fingers casually tucked some of her hair behind an ear, legs stretching out a bit more to draw attention to them. "A minor little thing."

I sighed, "Stop flaunting the fact that you're the sexiest woman alive and just tell us already."

"Well if I don't flaunt it then you'll think that Chantry girl of yours is prettier than me." She countered. "I don't think my ego could take such a blow."

Merrill gasped, "Elgar'nan! Are you going to duel her for Maeve's heart? Like in Varric's stories?"

Isabella laughed, "That would be a short duel, kitten."

"She's just teasing." I added, "As she always is. And now she's going to tell us what she's trying to con us into doing for her."

"But I haven't finished softening you up yet." She protested. "I was going to complain of the heat and pull my shirt-"

"Isabella." Merrill and I said in unison, though she was blushing far more than I was.

Our friend rolled her eyes, "Andraste's knickers, you two are a lot more fun to tease when you're drunk. Fine, fine. I've got a lead on a treasure that I've had my eyes on for a while. I was hoping the two of you wouldn't mind accompanying me on a little search."

I hummed, thinking. It couldn't have been the book. It was far too early for that, and I was pretty sure I hadn't fucked up canon that much.

"In the city?" I asked.

"No, along the coast."

Yeah. Definitely not the book then. Probably just a random treasure hunt, Isabella hoping against hope that the book had simply washed ashore after her ship had broken up. That she'd be able to find it and turn it over, to get out from under all of her problems as quickly as possible.

Dammit. I did want to help her find that damned thing, but I needed her to open up to me a bit more first. Admit that she was looking for something so that I could offer to start looking for it. Then I could try and find the pirate who'd grabbed it, get it to her, and just maybe avoid the Arishok blowing up.

I wanted to help, but her timing was terrible.

"Can't." I told her. "Construction is going to start soon, and there's going to be all kinds of chaos when the rest of the Alienage finds out that we're not just building a barracks and fixing up the wall. Leras is worried there'll be an actual riot when we admit that a Chantry is going up. I've got to be here for that."

"It'll just be a day." She protested. "Two, at most."

I sighed, "And I'd love to get away from people who are going to do nothing but bitch at me, but I'm kind of stuck."

Merrill cleared her throat, "But that won't last forever. Thing's will calm down, and maybe we could take the Watch with us?"

We both blinked, turning to stare at her, which made her flush again. "I mean, Zatris and Elowen at least. Maybe a few others? We could all go out to the coast so you can relax and talk with them. Maybe have a nice swim in that river we found! It would get everyone out of the Alienage for a little while."

Isabella grinned, quickly jumping in, "And you're always complaining about having to lead. Get them out of the city, see if you can't convince any of them to take your place without all those stuffy old fools breathing down your neck."

"That's... not a bad idea." I admitted, "Can it wait for a few days? Long enough for the construction to really start? There'll be enough guards and Templars around that we could skip out for a day or two then. And I could pick out who I'd want to bring with."

"I'd rather not leave it too late. Five days from now?"

"Sure."

Now I just had to hope that someone showed me they could do the job, so I could stop pretending I knew what the hell I was doing with this Night's Watch business.

And, with a bit of luck, I could get started on the Isabella problem as well.

Here's to hoping.