I wasn't really used to being left behind.

I mean, for as much as I bitched about it, I was rather used to leading. That or being Isabella's second in command, or her raid leader, or whatever grandiose title she'd felt like giving me that week. Basically I was used to being involved in whatever chaos was going on around me, in directing that chaos as best I could, no matter what my personal feelings on the matter might have been.

And now here I was. Sitting around with nothing but corpses for company while everyone else cautiously moved deeper into the Thaig without me.

"I feel like there's some kind of metaphor here." I muttered, heaving myself up and into the nearest of the Carta's wagons. "What do you think?"

The hum echoed against the Veil, making our tether vibrate before Longing spoke. "I think that I am a Spirit of Desire. Not a Spirit of Metaphor, or of Philosophy."

I couldn't help but snort, rifling through the first canvas bag to find it full of raw grains. "Are there spirits of metaphor and philosophy?"

"Variations of Wisdom, perhaps, but it is unlikely." The spirit's shrug was audible in her voice. "Neither is a concept of particular resonance. There is a greater chance that a particular spirit of Wisdom may indulge in such discussions."

Humming, I kept up my search, hoping to find something better that we could actually have as little feast. Sadly it seemed that the Carta's shopping run had been aimed more at cost efficiency than it had been on luxury; it was pretty much all grain of one kind or another. They probably had a bakery farther into the Thaig where they used it to make bread.

Maybe we could fish in the river. Then again, maybe that water was tainted with lyrium. I had no idea which direction the Thaig extended. It could very well connect again upriver, could have Titan's blood of one kind or another in it. Best not to risk it.

Dammit. Was I just bored, or was I that unsettled to not be with everyone else as they ran into danger?

"A bit of both, I believe." Longing chipped in with her opinion.

"Back to being my discount psychologist?" I asked.

There was a quiet huff. "I do not believe you have ever called my prices 'discounted', Maeve. Personally I consider myself more of a luxury item."

My lips twitched despite my best efforts to keep them still. "If you say so."

Longing chuckled. "I do, dear host. Sadly, as much as I would like to continue our rapport, I have other matters to deal with. Please do not touch anything made of the Corruption this time."

"That's the plan." I replied.

She let out a final approving noise, then the sense of someone nearby faded. Within moments it was gone, and I felt as alone as I truly was.

Alone and with too much crap on my mind.

Letting out a long exhalation, I meandered around the wagons, patting the donkeys who'd been pulling them. The burros were still unsettled by the smell of blood, but had been tied up too securely to do anything about it. Both of them tolerated my touch, but went back to tugging at their ropes soon enough.

I briefly considered helping the poor guys out a bit. Moving the bodies somewhere... but I didn't really have anywhere to put them. Carrying them upstairs would be a pain in the ass, and pain in my back, and I didn't especially want to dump them in the river either. For all I knew there was a village downstream that I'd be poisoning.

With nothing else to do I wandered back to the bridge, heading to the far side. I sat down at the entrance to the winding tunnel heading back up, settling in to play the sentry like I'd told the others I would.

I sat down...

...and I pondered. There was a lot to ponder about, after all.

First and foremost, there was Bartrand, and what the others might find down there. I was really hoping that they wouldn't find him. Wouldn't find any evidence of him beyond the Idol. I very much did hope that they found that horrifying little object, and destroyed it from a nice safe distance. While I didn't really have any idea what had became of the thing after Dragon Age Two, I couldn't see any scenario where destroying it wouldn't be a good thing.

At a minimum it would guarantee that Meredith would never get corrupted by it, though I was pretty sure Greg and the Wardens had already ensured that wasn't going to happen.

Of course that led to my thoughts about said Knight-Commander, and what the hell I was going to do when I saw her again in Kirkwall. From what Anders had been saying she still had a massive hard-on for treating mages like prisoners at best, or like slaves at worst. That was going to be a problem, but it wasn't one that I knew how to solve.

What could I even do? Try and talk her down a bit? How would I even frame that?

Meredith liked me at least in part because she knew that the Mages of the Gallows loathed my very existence. Because I'd helped her Templars hunt down and kill plenty of the magical criminals that Hawke would have been dealing with if not for Greg's interference. My Hawke had always gotten away with being pro-mage in the game, despite killing the same ones I'd deal with in real life... was the difference just that she was Human, and I Elven? Or was that just the game not reflecting reality?

It didn't really matter. I should have known that my actions would lead to consequences.

Consequences like having a Knighthood in that city. Like Dumar and Meredith thinking of me as their personal Elven thug. A problem solver, of the kind where they could guess that any problem they pointed me at would end with dead bodies.

"...fuck." I sighed, rubbing tiredly at my face. Felt the flaky bits of blood my quick wash with a canteen hadn't properly cleaned off. "Don't spiral into that, or you'll be depressed for the next month."

I knew I was a monster compared to what I'd once been. That I must have killed more than a hundred people since I'd arrived on Thedas.

I knew it. I didn't need to dwell on it. Down that path lay crying, mental breakdowns, and madness. Or maybe just a return to the alcohol addiction I'd just barely kicked over the past couple of years.

A quick shake of my head helped me to focus. To get back to the problem that was going to be dominating the city I considered something too similar to home. With the Arishok gone and Tome somewhere in Tevinter, I was pretty sure I'd short-circuited the second game's middle act. That just left the big one. The finale that would contribute to the great explosion of war across the world.

The Mage Question.

Could I talk Meredith down? Could I at least try to slow things down a little? If I really tried... maybe . Her letters had become increasingly familiar over time. Increasingly personal in a way that left me a little uncomfortable. She seemed to genuinely like and respect me, something that made my magically enhanced soul writhe with ever increasing amounts of guilt. Sorry, Guilt with a capital letter, since there was a demon of that name fluttering around once every few weeks. Whenever Grief or the Nightmares' lackeys weren't testing my defenses.

If I tried regardless, if I really worked at it, if I convinced Meredith to be more lenient with the mages, would that amount to anything?

Honestly... I couldn't see how it would. The Mages of the Gallows despised her to the point where even dedicated reforms would never satisfy them. She'd have to resign, and Cullen would have to be the one to institute those changes. They wouldn't get to be compromise changes either; the mages would demand everything after putting up with being under lock and key for so long.

Which meant Cullen would never go for it either. Even if he did, that would tie Cullen to Kirkwall instead of leaving him free to go to the Inquisition... assuming that the Mage Rebellion happened at all...

...ugh. This kind of crap really tied my brain into knots. I was so much better at dealing with immediate problems than I was with long term, multiple choice planning.

"Maeve?" Merrill's distant voice broke me from my mess of a brain, drawing my attention around.

She looked tired, leaning a little on her spear-staff as waved to me from the top of the stairs. I rose at once, quickly walking back to join her.

"Everything all right?" I asked once I'd climbed the stairs to join her.

Merrill shook her head at once. "No. Um... really no. Varric wants to see if my barrier can stop you from reacting to it."

I blinked, "Do you think it will?"

"I don't know, lethallan." Her shrug was helpless, her eyes not meeting mine. A very bad sign, that. Whatever was down there couldn't be good. "But, um, he really needs you in there."

"...that bad?" I asked, pretty sure that I already knew the answer.

Merrill nodded. "Varric said that I shouldn't tell you. That you have to see it."

"Ominous." I murmured, discomfort growing by the heartbeat.

In response she motioned for me to follow her, and I did. The two of us walked back through the chamber of burnt bodies, our pace quickening until we were through it. We slowed a little in the following hallway, saying nothing until we neared the far end.

There we stopped long enough for Merrill to cocoon me in her magical protection, clearly putting more power into it than usual. I waited until she nodded to say she was satisfied, and then I took a very hesitant step into the next room.

The massive door was opened just wide enough for one person to slip through at a time, hiding away whatever lay beyond. More importantly, I didn't hear anything, didn't feel any of the overwhelming assaults that history told me red lyrium could deliver against my soul.

I licked my lips, carefully taking a few more steps, drawing closer. "Merrill?"

She was frowning, a hand half-raised. "There's... a pressure on the barrier that wasn't there when it was just on me. I don't think it likes you very much."

"I don't think so either." I said. "Let's try a bit closer."

When she nodded, I moved up, then stopped to let her report on how it felt against the barrier. The pressure hadn't changed, staying constant even as I drew ever closer to the doorway.

It must have taken us longer than expected because Anders poked his head around the corner just as I was about to take that final plunge, his expression annoyed.

"What's taking so long?" He demanded.

Merrill gave him a rather irritated look. It was clearly an expression he hadn't ever expected to see from her, and he blinked once, then jumped a little when she snapped. "There's pressure on the barrier. It's still trying to attack her."

"Oh." Anders said, glancing between us. "There's nothing against mine at all right now."

"There wasn't any on mine either." Merrill replied. "Whatever that lyrium is, it wants to hurt Maeve. Like it did that first awful time. I don't think she should go on."

He was already shaking his head. "She has to. Varric needs her back there. For a few minutes, at least."

I was opening my mouth when Merrill thumped her staff once on the stone. "I'm not risking her. I'm not going to hear her scream like that again, Anders."

"I-"

Anders cut me off instead, "Fifteen minutes, and I'll have a lyrium vial for you if the drain gets too severe. I promise that I'll pick her up and sprint her back here if you even think the spell is failing."

"I'll be-"

"Five minutes." Merrill countered.

"Oy!" I half-shouted, scowling at the pair of them, "Don't I get a say in-"

Merrill gave me a flat look that was so reminiscent of a furious Isabella that I found my mouth clicking shut.

"Five minutes." She repeated stubbornly.

Anders hadn't so much as smiled at how quickly she'd silenced me. Instead he simply nodded once. "Five minutes. We'll move at a run to get to where we need to be. Ready?"

Continuing their trend of ignoring me, each one of them grabbed one of my arms. I had enough time to glare before I was abruptly yanked forward into a stumbling run. Awkwardly getting through the door left us in another long hallway, again unadorned, both of my friends pushing and pulling at me to get me up to a real run.

I got my legs moving at the appropriate pace just as the reason for their haste became clear.

The next room had Red Lyrium in it. Six pillars of the blighted crystal, each one taller than I was, each one locked away behind metal bars that looked ominously liked jail cells, or maybe slave cages.

Of course thoughts were driven out of my head when I spent too long looking at the crystals. As though they were aware of me there was a responding impact Merrill's barrier hard enough for me to feel it. She let out a quiet gasp, then there was the strong scent of her magic as she desperately poured more power into the protection. Keeping the effect at bay until Anders pulled my stumbling form through the next doorway, which proved to open into some kind of communal dining space.

I was only barely aware of the long tables, the hearths, because there was a seventh pillar of lyrium set up as a center piece against the back wall.

Varric was standing before it, hands on his hips. He turned on seeing us enter, his eyes distinctly haunted. My stomach dropped when my friends led me straight to him, to the red glow of the crystal behind him.

I had a bleak guess as to what I would see even before I forced myself to look.

What... was...

I closed my eyes, swallowed, then forced them back open. To study what I was seeing clinically.

What was left of Bartrand Tethras had been crucified. I meant that literally; his right hand was free of the lyrium, and I could see the heavy nail that had been driven through his palm, nailing it to the wooden bar behind him. Apart from that... well, a bit of his face was free. Just a bit of it. It was free of rot, of decomposition, but it was threaded through with gleaming red lines.

The half of it that was intact was the only reason I could recognize the corpse as Bartrand.

As for what I could see inside of the crystal itself?

It was... as if an acid had been eating away at him very, very slowly. Very selectively too. I could see the white sheen of bone, but also his organs. Could see his still heart through the gaps in his ribs. I didn't want to imagine how long it had been beating in there, before it had finally stopped. It was a sight that was going to give me nightmares for a very, very long time.

He'd been a bastard, but I still made a silent prayer that he'd died long before the lyrium had begun to eat him. No one deserved that fate.

"Maeve." Varric said, his voice flat. "What is this crap?"

Something in his voice told me not to lie. "Blighted Lyrium is my people's best guess, but to be honest we don't really know. I'd never actually seen it in person before... just heard about it in old stories."

"You're sure about that?" He demanded, voice hot.

I blinked a few more times, hands coming up in surrender. "Yes? What's-"

He stalked over to me, yanking a hand out of his pocket. A piece of paper was shoved against my upraised palm, leaving me to scramble to hold onto it before it fell to the ground. More confused and alarmed than ever, I did my best to straighten it out, holding it up so that I could try and read it.

We have become aware of your continued attempts to expand-

I abruptly stopped reading, shook my head rapidly, and forced myself to stare at the letters.

The English letters.

This letter was written in fucking English.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Varric must have seen the realization in my expression. Or maybe it was just the fact that I'd started shaking.

"That's that code you write your private crap in, right? I didn't lose my mind?" He asked, voice losing some of the sharpness as my hands made the paper crinkle.

"It... is." I said quietly, still numb. "It's not code. Just our written version of Trade."

"Read it." He said.

I did. "We have become aware of your continued attempts to expand operations. You are to cease and desist at once before your incompetence draws attention before we are ready for it. Do not treat this warning lightly. The favor you earned with the capture of the Sacred Idol has been used up thanks to your constant inability to keep your people under control. I am sending one of the Venatori with this letter to inspect your outpost and measure the growth of the crystals. You will behave or else I will lose what little patience I have left."

The next sentence had me pause, take a breath, then force myself to go on.

"You will turn over the Tethras brother to him as well. I may require him in order to release the Elder One from the cage he has too long been trapped within. Further orders to follow, act with the Will of the True Gods." I paused again, then said more quietly, "It's signed with a title; The Voice."

Fuck. Motherfucking fuck.

Varric was opening his mouth to say something else when Merrill grabbed my shoulder, her voice a bit thready. "It's too much. We have to leave. Right now."

"I need-" Varic began, only for Anders to cut him off.

"The lyrium's still attacking her." He said firmly, watching as I folded the letter, sliding it into a pouch on my belt. "We can find anything else, pull Fenris back from the tunnel, then meet them outside. We all need sunlight."

My lethallan had already dragged me a few steps back, leaving Varric to let out an explosive sigh, nodding tiredly.

I tried to tell him that I was sorry. That I hadn't known.

The words wouldn't come, and Merrill didn't give me the time to find them.

Our run back was just as silent as the run there had been, though for entirely different reasons. We also didn't stop when we made it back to the front area of the Thaig. Our feet carried us back up the spiraled tunnel, past the boulders, and out into an afternoon sunshine.

I expected it to be cold outside compared to underground, but that bright sun made it feel like it was a warm spring day rather than a late winter one.

"Maeve..." Merrill said quietly. "...are you all right?"

There wasn't any hesitation to my reply. "No."

"...is... is another of your people really here?"

I swallowed a sarcastic reply that I sure as hell hadn't been teaching the Carta how to write in English. Merrill didn't deserve that. Not from me.

"Looks that way." I said instead.

"...by the Dread Wolf." She whispered, looking away. "And they're helping those people in there?"

Helping was understating things, from the tone of that letter. Commanding them seemed more accurate. Leading them maybe. Writing about the Venatori. About plans to break Corypheus out of his eternal jail cell. Totally fine with people eating red lyrium, growing it. Either out of corpses, or however else the fuck you grew the stuff. Just annoyed that they may have fed too many to the blighted crap. Worried about drawing attention too early to their operations.

Letting out a frustrated breath, I walked a few steps away, turned, and then began pacing back and forth.

"I liked this situation better when I thought Bartrand was long dead in a field somewhere." I muttered. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Merrill turned back, watching as I moved around. "If... if they came here near that lyrium, if it attacked them like it does you. Maybe that would explain it?"

It actually would, come to think of it. Greg had apparently shown up very near the Cousland estate in Ferelden, and I'd shown up on the Nevarran-Tevinter border. If there'd been another Earthling brought across in the same event that had yanked us here, and if they'd woken up near a cave with red lyrium...

Shit. If they hadn't known anything about the setting, about the world, they might have laid down for a rest near them. Might have touched the crystals. Or maybe they'd woken up in a Venatori camp, and been chosen for a couple of experiments...

...or maybe a whole bunch of people from Earth had been. That 'Vint from the games had been experimenting with fucking time magic to try and resurrect Tevinter. If another Magister had been toying around with magic about crossing from one world to another... that could explain how I got here. How Greg did.

Maybe we were just the outliers. The lucky ones who'd landed a long way from our intended point of arrival

...or maybe I was entirely fucking wrong, and something else entirely was going on. I just didn't know nearly enough, and what pieces of information I had weren't making any sense.

"One letter's not proof of anything." I said finally. "I've got a million wild theories right now, but nothing that I know for sure actually fits."

Merrill nodded quickly. "Right. Um, so what do we know?"

I was about to list those off when the men arrived; Varric out in front, looking more tired and depressed than I could ever remember seeing him. Anders was leading the two donkeys, both laden with bags, while Fenris brought up the rear.

"We burned him." Anders supplied. "And I brought down the tunnel heading deeper as best I could. Merrll? If you could seal this one as well?"

"Of course." She quickly moved back, fiddling with her staff.

Within a few minutes she'd used a few pinpoint spells to collapse the tunnel heading down, working with Anders to roll the boulders back over to seal it off further. The rest of us watched them work, and when they were finished, we all set off on the walk back to where we'd left our steeds.

It was only then that the conversation resumed, Fenris supplying the information.

"At least seven survived." He told me, the two of us out in front. "We based that on the number of beds and sleep rolls that we found. They must have fled farther underground during our delays."

I nodded. "Those three at the door. Rear guard to buy the big bosses time to run."

"Likely." Fenris agreed. "They will be a problem for the future."

"That goes without saying." I muttered, shaking my head before giving him a few thoughts of my own. "Venatori. That a Tevene word?"

A low hum. "Mmm. A Tevinter Cult who advocate returning to the the worship of the old gods, of conquering all of the south to restore the empire of old. Sadly that is all I truly know. Denarius considered them a pack of fools chasing past glory."

Wise of him. Not that I'd say that out loud. Even thinking a vague compliment towards that particular asshole made my skin crawl.

"Well, they're up to something now." I said instead. "Apparently working with the Carta, experimenting with Red Lyrium, and it's safe to guess that they've got the Idol now."

"Indeed." He glanced back, probably to Varric. When silence was the only response, he turned to look ahead once more. "I would presume that their leader is that Elder One, and that he has been imprisoned in Tevinter. Perhaps they intend to use that lyrium in some kind of jailbreak."

The sad thing was? That was a hell of a lot more logical and reasoned than what was actually going on. So much so, in fact, that I couldn't bring myself to disagree. Couldn't bring myself to tell anyone the truth.

Cowardly bitch.

"Sounds it." I shook my head, "That's all bad enough, but that letter..."

"Would one of yours help Tevinter?" He asked.

I forced myself to consider the question seriously. While I wanted to think that it had just been someone showing up too close to lyrium, or the Venatori, or even Corypheus himself... well, people from Earth were still people.

"It's possible." I admitted, voice going quiet. "There's certainly plenty of assholes back home who might think that becoming slave masters would be fun. Especially if they had magic as well, and thought a renewed Tevinter might let them live like God-Kings."

He flicked his eyes to me. "One would think that their Elven heritage would be enough."

I could only shrug. "Humans don't have a monopoly on traitors, Fenris."

"Sadly true."

The quiet that followed wasn't tense, but it was certainly awkward.

I made it a few minutes before I sighed, stopping. Everyone else did as well, watching as I turned around, meeting the eyes of a man who was never at a loss for words.

"You going to talk to us, Varric?" I asked.

He met my stare, seemingly searching for something in my eyes. He must have found it because he gave me a faint smile, reaching out to pat me on the shoulder before slowly walking past. "Yeah. Just not until we're on the road to Kirkwall and I have a drink in my hand. We'll figure this weird shit out then."

I nodded, and we took the first steps on our long road home.