I got back to Varric's estate right around midnight, and wasn't especially surprised to find both he and Merrill still awake and waiting in one of the mansion's lounges.

"Lethallan." Merrill crossed her arms when I walked in, "Really? It's almost midnight!"

I grunted tiredly, making my way toward the couch she was standing next to. "Sorry. Assassins."

It said something about our circle of friends that Varric had to ask the question, "Yours or Brennan's?"

"Mine, apparently." I unbuckled my sword, letting it clatter to the ground before throwing myself theatrically onto the couch. For extra drama I let an arm flop over my eyes, giving them the rest of the details. "We took one of 'em alive. She said that the Polignac family was just waiting for me to get back before trying to kill me."

Hands gently slid under my head, lifting it just enough for Merrill to sit, then lower it so I was using her lap as a pillow.

I was ready to protest until her old brush began running over my scalp, making me melt into a little puddle in her hands.

"I don't remember that name." She admitted, warm fingers coming to rest on my forehead while the other hand stayed busy with the brush. "What did we do to them again?"

"That poncy idiot I dueled at the ball." I replied. "Apparently their youngest member getting beaten up by an Elf in front of half the city is something they haven't gotten over."

A groan came from Varric's direction, and I heard him shuffle around for a moment before popping open a bottle of wine. "I know that name. Minor family, offshoot of some Orlesian group. Just rich enough to think they're important."

"That's what Brennan said." I mumbled, far more interested in how good the bristles felt on my scalp.

Merrill hummed. "Are we going to fight them?"

"Probably." I shifted my arm to cover a yawn, then went on, "I'll talk to Elowen tomorrow. See what she knows. If they can help."

"Of course they will." She replied. "Just like we will. We'll definitely have the time."

That was true, but I hadn't liked the way she'd said it. "...Merrill?"

The brush paused, "Um..."

Fuck. "Merrill."

"Yes, lethallan?"

I counted to three, then said more firmly. "Merrill."

"Um..." The brushing slowly resumed, a proper explanation coming along with it. "We got a letter from Isabella while you were out. She, um, got into a battle with a Qunari ship that was little tougher than she expected. She still won! And Fiolya's fine, and so is the Eluvian, but, um..."

Varric took over, "It's going to take a bit to repair her ship. She'll be late getting here."

"How late?" I asked tiredly, desperately wishing that I was surprised that things were still going wrong. That my hoped for plans were completely falling apart.

"Maybe a month." Varric replied. "She said she's hoping it'll be just a few weeks, but a month or two is more likely."

...dammit. An extra month in Kirkwall was going to lead to more problems, I just knew it. We hadn't even been here for two days and I was already having assassins sent after me, getting dragged into reunions with Dumar, and having Meredith make it clear she expected me to be involved in local affairs while I was here.

Worse, it must have happened practically right after we'd left her if she'd already gotten a letter sent ahead by land. Unless she'd found another ship actually braving the late winter, early spring seas. Either way it didn't matter. My four and a half more weeks in Kirkwall had just lengthened in a way that was going to cause problems.

"Great." The word was a dejected mutter, and I went on to relay some of those problems to the others. "Dumar and Meredith were already making noises about keeping me around long-term. That's really going to make them both push even harder... dammit Varric, move away. I can smell the wine."

The floor creaked as he did so, quickly padding away. When I shifted my arm, cracking an eye open, I saw him settling down in his favorite armchair.

"Sorry, Buzz." He said while pouring some of the red liquid into a glass. To his credit he sounded like meant it. "Only excuse I've got is that it's late."

I let out a soft grunt, a wordless way of telling him I forgave him so long as he didn't do it again.

He gave me a faint smile, then spoke up again as he got himself comfortable with his drink. "I think we can leave the assassins for tomorrow. No one is going to be stupid enough to come at you here, and Daisy would do something unspeakably horrible to them if they tried it."

A glance up showed Merrill blushing, but not denying it.

"So," He went on, "How did the dinner go?"

"Saemus is a little shit. Dumar wants me to be his personal Elven thug, Meredith's still convinced I want to emulate her." I let my arm drop, sighing. "Both are dropping hints that they've got things they want me to handle for them. Things that might shore up their local support a bit, and that they have plenty of rewards ready for me."

Merrill gently reached down, brushing my short bangs back. "What kind of things? Rewards?"

"Don't know. I started telling pirate stories to get them to shut up." I admitted.

She smiled. "Of course you did. But, um, what kind of things?"

I hummed, enjoying her touch far more than I should have. As usual. "Talked a bit with the Guard while Brennan was interrogating the sole survivor from our attack. They're pretty sure Meredith has had enough of Elthina's peace policies, so my guess is that it'll have to do with Starkhaven."

Varric groaned. "She's really going to try and launch a coup there?"

"No clue." I replied, "But Sergeant Donnic says that's the rumor amid the Guards right now. Before I corrected him about why I'm really here, he thought Meredith had recalled me to assassinate the current prince out there."

"...well shit." He took an audible swig of his wine. "Please tell me you wouldn't actually do it, even for Meredith?"

I scoffed at once. "Hell no. That's the kind of shit that would get one of us killed, or get us involved in an all out war or something. If she tries to push it I'll tell her I support the concept, but I'm not about to go there and knife the little shit myself."

A grunt. "Good. Be more diplomatic though."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not stupid. I can handle Meredith." I hoped. "I can always threaten to just go back to Hawke's place in Ferelden. Besides, I'm not sure it'll really come to that. I can't see Dumar signing off on that kind of thing even with Meredith pressuring him. Not with the Grand Cleric openly opposed to the idea."

Merrill's finger had begun tracing lazy patterns on my forehead, making my eyes half-close. "What else could they want you to do? I mean, Elowen is the Baroness now, and Nethon has the Night Watch. Wouldn't they be the ones to handle most of it?"

Varric beat me to it. "Anything official, yeah. Problem is that Meredith's convinced Maeve gave up those titles so she'd be free to do exactly that kind of dirty work. And if you two are stuck here for an extra month or two, it'll be a lot harder to say no without ruining that daughterly image Buzz has going on with her."

"Hmmm..." Merrill hummed, that finger sliding down my temple to trail along the top of my ear. The touch was electric enough that I shuddered, whispering her name sharply. Merrill promptly pinked, quickly returning to her lazy playing with my hair instead. "Ir abelas, lethallan. Um... could we leave the city anyway? Avoid all of that?"

"Maybe." I fully closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing instead of on what she was doing. "Not many options though. As much as Kirkwall is Kirkwall, it's probably still safer for us to wait for Isabella here rather than heading back to another port. As much as I hate the idea of a delay, even two more months isn't that bad. We can find an excuse to slip away for a while, dodge some problems."

"Oh. True. We could go looking for ruins? You could say you're helping me, or other Dalish."

I folded my hands over my stomach, thinking it over. The excuse wouldn't much impress Meredith, or Dumar, but I could probably spin it. Say that picking up Dalish artifacts might attract some of the more reasonable clans to come by and trade, buck up the economy a little. Ohhh... could say I was sounding them out as assets to search for Greg and Bethany. Meredith would like that idea, even if she would dissaprove of using heathens.

"Could work." Varric mused when I voiced the thoughts out loud. "Probably won't buy you all that much time, but you don't really need it to. Just enough to take up three or four weeks. Figure you can pretend to stay busy apart from that."

"Pretend?" I huffed. "Who is pretending? We've got dinners or lunches booked almost every day, Brennan wants me to have breakfast with her tomorrow, Caelia wants me to speak at a sermon, and Elowen wants me to spar with the Watch to pound some humility into the new kids. And that's just what everyone wants to happen this week."

He chuckled, his chair creaking again. The floor echoed that a moment later, betraying the fact that he'd gotten up again. "Point. I'll see about keeping your schedule nice and packed so you've always got an excuse ready."

My groan was as miserable as it was petulant, making him laugh and Merrill giggle.

"Anyway, I'm done for the night. I'll see you both in the morning to plan our response for the Polignac family's indiscretions."

I mumbled something about him having a good night, Merrill saying so much more cheerfully.

And then he was gone, and the two of us were alone.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to stay relaxed, feeling my lethallan still gently touching me. We probably should have been getting up as well, heading to our guest rooms, but I was too comfortable to be bothered.

That lasted for, maybe, one whole minute before Varric came barging right back into the lounge.

Opening my eyes let me see a pouting Merrill, who'd clearly been hoping for some alone time for us. It definitely said something about how much of a coward I was that I suddenly felt relieved for the interruption.

Turning a little gave me a good view of Varric leading in one of the Dwarven maids. I recognized her, vaguely. She was... the posh redhead who got into a snit when we didn't live up to our supposedly noble titles.

"Tell 'em." Varric said, taking a deep pull from his wine glass.

She sniffed, clearly not appreciating the phrasing, but did as she was told. "Pardon me, Dame Maeve, but there is a man from the Chantry requesting your presence."

"It's past midnight." I said, put as much grumble into the words as my thin chest allowed. "Tell him to fuck off."

The young woman looked even more displeased, going on. "I attempted to dissuade Brother Vael, but he was most insistent that you accompany him at once to speak with the Grand Cleric. She is apparently expecting you."

...why the fuck was this my life now!?

"Vael. Prince Sebastian fucking Vael is outside." I said, my voice flat.

"Yes."

"Waiting for me?"

"Yes." She repeated. "What shall I inform him?"

I turned to Varric to find him shrugging. "Fuck if I know, Buzz. Don't think turning down the old bird is a good move on your second day back though."

That was understating things. "Fuck... fine. Tell him I'm coming once I can change."

There was no way I was going to go to the Grand Chantry in my party clothes. No. This called for something more appropriate. Like armored plating.

"Are you sure, lethallan?" Merrill asked, turning her formidable pout on me.

"No." I sighed, reluctantly pushing myself up and out of her lap. "If it was almost anyone else I really would tell them to fuck off. But as much as I don't like the old crone, she's still one of the most powerful people in the city. Probably is the most powerful, since Meredith usually obeys her, and Dumar obeys them both."

"Point." Varric said. "Sorry, Daisy, but she's right about this. You don't turn down the Grand Cleric. Not even at midnight."

Merrill accepted that, even if it didn't leave her happy when we both stood up. She turned on Varric at once. "She shouldn't go alone. Not when she was just attacked."

He blinked a few times, lowered his cup, and then groaned. "...yeah, you're right. And I don't think starting a brawl in the Chantry over having a Dalish mage along would be a good look. Let me go get my gear and I'll meet you out front."

And with that we separated, heading to our various rooms. Well, he and I did. Merrill came with me to help me get my somewhat battered armor on, making sure to nicely fold the formal clothing once I'd tossed it aside.

"I'll stay awake-"

"Shush." I said, waving vaguely toward my bed, "Sleep. Whatever this is about, I don't intend on doing anything else tonight."

Merrill crossed her arms. "You know I won't be able to sleep with you out there, being... you."

I gave her a flat look. "Being me?"

"Yes." She blinked innocently. "Being you seems to be a very dangerous thing to be in Kirkwall."

"I..." My mouth closed when I realized I didn't have any kind of counter statement for that one. "...will be back in a few hours. If you're going to stay up then read in bed or something. Try and relax."

"I will try, lethallan."

We exchanged a quick hug, one I was carefully gentle with since I was covered in metal and she wasn't, and then I slipped back into the hallway. One short walk and a flight of stairs later had me at the entrance, waiting for Varric. He eventually arrived with water droplets covering his face and Bianca on his back, his usual go-to-town outfit on as well.

Stepping outside let us see that the maid had been telling the absolute truth; Sebastian Vael was politely waiting, an ornate lantern in one hand, throwing his handsome features into sharp relief. I'd only ever seen him once or twice in passing, but he didn't look to have changed much. Wearing the robes of a Chantry Brother, same perfect hair, perfect smile, and so on.

If I'd been in a better mood, less exhausted, I might have been attracted to him. Physically, at least.

His in game personality had been a massive turn off, and I didn't see him being any more tolerable in real life.

Of course the charming bastard had to sound completely sincere when he greeted us, "Good evening. I am incredibly sorry about the late hour, but the Grand Cleric was insistent. She hoped to speak to you after the Viscount's banquet, but you departed before her runner could find you."

"I'm not going to lie and say it's fine, because it's not." I said, waving for him to get moving. He did, the three of us walking in a rough line down the street. "This couldn't have waited until morning? Wait, fuck. It might be morning. It couldn't have waited until daylight?"

My cursing didn't seem to bother him, nor my complaining. He chuckled almost ruefully, "A matter both I and the Grand Cleric's secretary raised. Sadly we could not dissuade her. You have my most sincere apologies, as I said."

The worst part was that it was easy to tell he was utterly genuine about being sorry for the entire situation.

"Not your fault." I sighed. "Any idea what this is about?"

"I'm afraid I do not know. Only that she wished to speak to you directly, and I believe that she has requested the Viscount's presence as well."

Me and Dumar? Ugh. This was sounding more ominous by the moment.

I was satisfied with grumbling a bit more under my breath, wishing that I had pockets to shove my hands into. It was damned cold out, and the leather gloves of my armor weren't nearly as insulated as I'd have liked. Should have brought a damned jacket. Or fur lined gloves.

Both. I should have done both.

I was, in fact, so busy being determined to be miserable that I nearly missed it when Sebastian spoke up again just as we exited the Enclave's walls, the armored Dwarves standing guard at the gate bowing to us. Well, to Varric, but we got the polite bit of respect by association.

"I must say it is a pleasure to meet you. Properly, I mean." I blinked, glancing at him to see him smiling at me. "You've done wonderful work in the Maker's name in the Alienage, and in the city in general."

I eyed him. "...thanks? You coming on to me or something?"

It was his turn to blink, an almost adorable stammer coming out. "No, no! Of course not, Dame. I have said vows, and rumor has it that you prefer, ah, feminine company."

I was fine with either gender, but I didn't feel like getting into that level of discussion with him. "Good. I'm irritated enough I wouldn't have been kind when I shot you down."

The Earthly phrase visibly threw him off for a moment before he seemed to get it, which led Varric to chuckle.

"Sorry, Choir-Boy." He said. "Maeve here is a bit of an acquired taste. Her metaphors get weirder the more exhausted she gets. Or the more drunk, I suppose, but she's been avoiding that vice for quite a while now."

Sebastian cleared his throat, "It is quite all right. I understand she is from foreign lands. It would be far stranger if she did not have the odd turn of phrase now and then."

"Oh it's a lot more often than that." Varric assured him, the three of us turned down the main boulevard that would lead us to the local cathedral.

"I'm sure many are fascinating." Sebastian turned back to me, smiling. "I did mean what I said before. Your work in this city was an inspiration to many."

That time I couldn't help but snort. "All right, now you're layering it on too thick. Most of the city hates my guts, or would much rather see my severed head on a spike. And I'm pretty sure Elthina was hoping I'd never come back."

His smiled faded in an instant, becoming a frown. "The Grand Cleric respects you greatly."

"The Grand Cleric thinks I'm an annoying pet of Meredith's, and she very much regrets being the one to give me to her." I countered. "Don't try and pretend like she gives a fuck about Elves, Serrah Vael. She doesn't."

"She cares for all who believe in the Maker." He replied diffidently.

"Ha." I said the word instead of actually laughing, and made sure my voice was flat when I did it. It was, apparently, sarcastic enough that Varric winced. "Then why the fuck is the Alienage's Chantry not getting the same funding as the others? Why isn't she doing anything about the rampant anti-Elf sermons the Mothers in Lowtown are giving? Why is she encouraging the nobles who want the entire Alienage seized because we had the audacity to make it not a shitty place to live? And that's just the list of things I've heard over the last three days."

Sebastian visibly floundered before offering, "I am sure it isn't the Grand Cleric herself who is responsible for those things."

"So she's not ill-intentioned, just grossly incompetent?" I asked.

"...no, of course not, it is..." More floundering. "...complicated."

I would have been happy to continue, but a sharper look from Varric warned me against going farther. So instead of really starting on a rant, I blew out a plume of fog through my nose, crossed my arms, and kept my mouth shut.

Thankfully Sebastian seemed to have learned his lesson. He kept his own shut the rest of the walk as well.

The Templars standing guard at the entrance stepped up when we approached, the man on our left bringing a fist to his breastplate in salute.

"Dame Maeve! It is good to see you have returned!" God help me, he also sounded genuine about his pleasure to see me. Apparently I'd ended up on the Templar route, and I had no fucking idea how to get off it at this point.

I returned the salute on tired reflex, my lips curling on one side. "I'd say it's good to be back, but it's too early for this shit."

Both men chuckled, the senior of them waving for the other to haul the doors open for us. "It is at least warm inside, Dame. Be welcome in the Maker's hall."

"Thanks. Try and stay warm tonight." I nodded to them both, following behind Sebastian as he slipped in through the opening doors. Varric was behind me as well, though I slowed down to walk beside him once we were inside.

Sure enough there were plenty of fires still going in the Cathedral's massive space, despite the late hour. It was too big a room for them to really keep it warm, but compared to the outdoors, the extra degree or two really did feel better on my skin.

Starkhaven's exiled prince led us halfway down the chamber, then through an ornate door on the right. Two short flights of stairs brought us to a hallway absolutely filled with gaudy artwork depicting various moments of Andraste's life, with doors squeezed in between them.

The fourth door on the right had another Templar guard, a woman with salt and pepper hair who I vaguely recognized. She'd been one of the ones who'd help deal with Fiolya's attackers... I was pretty sure she'd been the one to haul off my squire's rapist before they'd hung him. Hell, maybe she'd been the one to geld him before his execution.

"Dame Maeve." She had a few gaps in her smile, but she seemed just as happy to see me as the men outside had been. Hell's fucking bells but I really was popular among the Order these days. Which was mildly terrifying since I was both a hidden mage, and someone who really wasn't a fan of their Circle program.

Then again I was even less of a fan of blood mages slitting the throats of slaves, and I'd gotten to express that dislike a whole lot more than I'd ever had reason to admit I didn't like how the Order treated non-criminal mages.

"Knight-Lieutenant." I replied, the two of us again exchanging salutes. "Who's all inside?"

"The Grand Cleric and the Viscount." She replied, dark eyes going to Varric. "I'm sorry, Deshyr, but I'm only supposed to allow the Dame inside."

He waved a hand. "I'm fine. Just with to make sure no one else tries to kill her tonight."

The Templar stopped in the middle of reaching for the door, Sebastian similarly looking startled.

"Pardon?" The Lieutenant asked sharply.

I shook my head. "Assassins from some blue bloods, nothing major. Brennan and I killed three and the fourth talked about who hired her. It's being handled."

She eyed me, nodding slowly. "Very well. I will inform the Knight-Commander if the Guard-Captain has not already. If you have no objections, Dame."

"Pretty sure Brennan sent a runner, but better to duplicate it." A hand rose, covering up a yawn. "That's for later, though. For now let's get this over with. I'm exhausted."

"Of course." An armored fist rapped sharply on the wood, then pushed the door open a crack. "Grand Cleric, Viscount? The Dame has arrived."

Elthina's smooth voice carried through the gap. "Let her in, Knight-Lieutenant."

She swung the door open. I paused just long enough to thump Varric on the shoulder, muttering a thanks for coming with, to which he waved off my words and replied that he'd find a place near a fire to rest until I was done. Knowing that meant he'd be passed out on a bench somewhere, I snorted quietly, thumped him again, and then strode into the Grand Cleric's office.

It was just as ornate and gaudy as the hallway outside had been. On the walls, at least. Most of the floor space was actually empty, with the room itself big enough that the massive desk in the center looked small.

Two chairs had been set up across from Elthina's, with Dumar rising from one of them when I walked in.

He looked as tired as I felt, his hands cradling a steaming cup of tea between them.

"Dame Maeve." He greeted me first. "Tea?"

"Thanks, but no. I'm going to pass out as soon we're done here." I replied, making sure to sound polite to him.

A politeness I lost when I turned to the woman who'd turned Petrice's funeral into a political stunt.

"Grand Cleric." I said, far more icily.

"Dame Maeve." She replied, waving a hand permissively. "Please, sit, dear."

My hands planted on the back of the chair, leaning on it instead. "If I sit I'll be asleep before you can tell me what this is about."

Elthina had fantastic self control. She smiled faintly, her tone as grandmotherly as ever when she said. "Of course. I do apologize for the late hour. I'd hoped to have this meeting directly after the banquet, but you left early and then could not be found."

"Then your messengers didn't try very hard." I noted. "I walked around Hightown for half an hour with the Guard-Captain, we were attacked, and then I spent five hours in the Keep while she interrogated our prisoner."

Dumar, who hadn't sat back down, straightened at the news. "Attacked? By whom?"

"Four assassins, only mildly competent." I waved away the worry. "Brennan's keeping the last one alive, and we're getting the people responsible identified. It'll be handled."

"Discreetly, I hope." He replied. When I nodded, he did as well. "Good. I will trust that the Captain will give me an appropriate report in our luncheon tomorrow, and consider the matter handled."

A soft clearing of Elthina's throat brought our attention back to her, the Grand Cleric folding her hands on top of her desk.

"I trust," She said, "That it will be handled within the bounds of the law?"

"Mmhmm." I lied.

From the slight tightness around her eyes, she clearly knew I wasn't going to bother with any legalities. Fortunately she didn't seem to be ready to call me out on it, instead moving the conversation along.

"I hoped to discuss a few matters with you, now that you have returned." Elthina informed me. "First I must ask how long you intend to remain within our city this time?"

My own eyes tightened at her phrasing. It was easy to tell that I was very much not included in the 'our city'.

"The plan was to stay through Summerday." I replied. "The ship I was intending to depart on may be late, so perhaps a month beyond then. Two months past the holiday at the latest."

"As I said." Dumar shook his head, frowning slightly at the Grand Cleric.

"I merely wished to hear it for myself." She replied mildly. "I trust that means you will not be accepting either the Viscount or the Knight-Commander's offers?"

I blinked, flicking my eyes to Dumar in time to see his frown deepen. His normal political acting skills apparently deserting him at the early/late hour.

"It," He said, rather coolly considering who he was talking to, "has not yet been brought to Lady Maeve's attention."

Elthina nodded. "Then allow me to do so. Lady Maeve. The Viscount and Knight-Commander wish for you accept a landed title within the city's march, and to be placed in command of a unified City Guard."

I wasn't nearly as surprised as I wished that I was after a few days of being warned something like that may happen. "That is a generous offer, Viscount, but you know what my answer will be."

Dumar's smile was a faint thing. "Yes. I have a few proposals that I hope will change your mind, as does the Knight-Commander. I do not feel that this is the time or place for that conversation."

"I do." Elthina countered. "Everyone with a passing acquaintance knows that she will not accept any such charge, unless her personality has radically changed in the past two years. We must resolve this matter, locate an alternate candidate if she refuses, so that we might consider other candidates for the role before our discussions with the Divine might proceed."

I was about to reply that it hadn't, and that my answer wouldn't change, when Dumar surprised me by showing a spine.

"It is not the time, Grand Cleric." He said, extremely firmly. "We shall have this discussion again when the Knight-Commander is available."

My mouth nearly dropped open. Dumar? Showing backbone? To the Grand Cleric?

Fuck. The politics of this were a lot worse than I'd thought.

Elthina pursed her lips for the barest moment before smoothing her expression out, nodding politely. "Perhaps you are correct. In that case I must apologize, Lady Maeve, for pulling you from your bed for such a short discussion."

"...yeah, don't worry about it." I said, feeling a headache steadily coming on. "Is that everything?"

"For now, dear. I do wish to have a proper sit down with you, perhaps in a few weeks time?"

When I nodded, she rose, nodding once again. "Then I bid you both a good evening."

Dumar bowed, while I merely twitched my chin before retreating back outside. The Templar Guard quietly stepped into the office once we were out of it, closing the door behind her. Since Sebastian was absent, I presumed I was on my own to find Varric, and set off back the way we'd come.

The Viscount's much longer legs easily allowed him to keep pace, his expression troubled in between sips of his tea.

"So she dragged me here for nothing. In the middle of the night." I said.

"Was it for nothing?" He asked quietly.

I grunted, dropping my voice as well. "No. Old bat knows I respect her position enough to come running when she says jump. This was a power move to put me in my place."

"Which is better than if you had refused." Dumar replied. "But I believe your view to be correct. I would, however, not express such a thing too loudly."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." I sighed, shaking my head. "I'm not taking a title, Viscount. The one I've got is annoying enough."

He gave me a tired, almost fatherly smile. "I know, but the Knight-Commander has tremendous respect for you. I will do my utmost to bribe you on her behalf."

I let out a ragged laugh. "Yeah, yeah. Do what you have to do, sir."

"And you do the same, Lady."