We spent the remainder of the day riding to the west as quickly as our tired steeds could go. It wasn't all that fast with our new donkeys struggling to keep up, their backs laden down with the weapons, armor, and coin that had been taken from the dead. Honestly they wouldn't be worth much, not compared to how much wealth Varric was sitting on for most of us, so it would probably all go to Anders' personal crusade.

The road began its slow wind deeper into the mountains somewhere near sunset. Normal people would have stopped around then, but I was convinced we needed to put as many miles between us and that Thaig as possible. No one else disagreed, and so the Elves among us ended up on point, using our better night vision to coax our mounts along until the last of the sunlight vanished and trying to go on became too dangerous.

Setting up camp on a little hill near the road didn't take us long. Fenris and Anders pounded stakes into the ground, tying the various beasts of burden to them, while Merrill and I got them unloaded for the night. Varric contributed by trotting off to a nearby grove of trees, coming back with enough wood to last us a few hours.

Then we all sat down around the simmering embers, warming our hands, and breaking our teeth on our stale rations.

None of us talked much. Not until Varric finally sighed, went to his pack, and came back with a dark bottle of something.

He pulled the cork out, taking a single swig before muttering. "Maker's balls. What a day."

"Can say that again." I said, fighting against the urge to scooch a little closer to Merrill for warmth.

"Maker's balls. What a day." He repeated, a rueful chuckle coming out when Anders snorted. "What? It's one thing to think that you want your brother dead. It's another to see... whatever that was. What was left of him. Now I don't get to scream at him. Don't get to beat the crazy out of him."

Fenris shook his head, holding a hand out. "I'm not sure anything could have saved Bartrand. He was a lost cause long before the expedition, or the idol."

"Probably." Varric admitted, passing the bottle over. "But... I don't know. He was a titanic pain in my ass, but he was still my brother. I wanted to think I could still save him. Force him to go back to being something like what he used to be like."

Anders eyed him while Fenris drank. "I've heard your stories, Varric. Was what he used to be like really an improvement?"

He seemed about to say something hot, forced himself to stop, and then sighed. "Honestly? Probably not. Money and fame were always his great obsessions. Restoring the family name and all of that. But there was still, I don't know, more to him than that when we were young. He was more of a person then."

Varric went quiet again, Fenris passing the bottle to Anders, who gave it to Merrill. She sipped it, then reached over the coals to give it back to Varric rather than offering it to me.

Smart of her. I was still rattled enough I'd have probably taken it, and not let it go until it was empty.

Our friend took another drink before passing it on, and admitting something else. "I didn't think we'd actually find him, you know."

"No?" I asked quietly.

"No." He shook his head. "I figured this was more of a vengeance gig. Find whoever killed him. Put a couple of bolts into them with Bianca, make myself feel better. Say that I'd seen justice done and all that. Could go on with my life pretending I never missed him."

"You're going to do that anyway." I predicted. "Like I do with Matthew."

There was a deep huff, his too-knowing eyes finding mine. "You don't pretend shit, Buzz. Anytime your family gets brought up you get into a snit. Face it, I'm the much better actor when it comes to that kind of pain."

I opened my mouth... then had to close it, shrug, and admit. "Probably."

Merrill stirred on my left, scooting closer until she was pressed against my side. The warmth of her body against the cold was pleasant enough that I didn't try to push her away, and she wasn't quite bold enough to slide an arm around me or rest her head on my shoulder.

Instead we just leaned into each other while she spoke. "What are you going to do now, Varric? About Bartrand, I mean."

He sighed, holding is hands up. "Go home, file the paperwork with the Guild. Contact the few people still around who miss the old him, put some kind of service together. Probably get enormously drunk once or twice, then try and move on with my life."

I found myself lowering my eyes, staring at the little campfire. Remembering a conversation he'd had with Solas. Would have with Solas, I supposed. Talking about how the world destroys everything you hold dear over time. How the only way to beat it was to keep on living. To keep moving on, no matter what kind of hell it threw at you.

Good advice, if a bit bleak. It was advice I... no. No. By that logic, I should follow Greg's lead. Accept that I wasn't going home. Should make a life here. Should enjoy whatever kind of life I could make her as a Knight, as a Pirate, as an Elf. Should accept that I couldn't go home to Earth.

...no. No. I couldn't. I couldn't do that.

Not until I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that it was impossible.

"Buzz?" Varric's voice brought my eyes up to see that the bottle had made its way around again, his hands holding it. "Got a serious question for you."

"Yeah?"

The bottle rose to his lips, falling after a moment. "Why didn't you say anything about that red crap on the expedition? If your people have stories about what it is?"

I thought about it. Thought about trying to spin a tale. Gave up on that almost at once.

Went with the bitter truth.

"I didn't think to." I said, "I'm sorry. I guess I was too rattled by that idol, and after that... after that I just hoped we'd never run into it again. Figured Bartrand would starve himself to death in the wild holding onto it. That the idol might get picked up by scavengers in the worst case, or maybe just end up sitting in the dirt for years."

Fenris gave me a flat look. "You didn't think to? After what happened to you?"

I gave him one in return. "I'd also just been outed as having made a deal with a demon, and Merrill had been outed as a blood mage, and found out that Anders was a Warden, and I'd nearly had my brain melted, and-"

"We get it, Buzz." Varric cut me off with a wave. "Broody, leave her be. That was a terrible week for everyone. Can't say I'm happy it slipped her mind, but I can understand it."

The tall Elf frowned. "Very well. I will ask what your people know of it."

"It's Blighted Lyrium." I said simply, "Or, at least, we think that's what it is. Corrupted by Darkspawn, or Tevinter's Old Gods, I've got no idea. All we really know is that you don't touch it, you don't go near it. You smash it to tiny bits from as far away as possible, melt what's left, then bury it."

His frown deepened. "The Blight only effects living things."

Merrill stirred against my side. "Lyrium is the blood of Titans. According to Maeve, anyway. It's why she won't drink it."

Fenris didn't look enlightened. "And what is a Titan?"

"Living stone." She replied. "An ancient enemy of Arlathon. Creatures that swam through mountains, buried themselves deep to avoid the hunting parties of the Evanuris that sought their blood for its magical properties. The lyrium veins that are mined are... I guess the dead ones?"

I could only shrug, giving another half-truth. "I think so. Again, we're mostly dealing with stories I barely remember from my childhood. It's like relying on stories about the First Blight and thinking that things went exactly as they describe."

"Not likely at all then." Anders reached out when Varric went to take another swig, snatching the bottle before he could. "Enough of that. Healer's orders. You can drink yourself into a stupor when you're home."

Varric grumbled, but it seemed to be purely for form. He watched Anders put the cork back in, stuffing the bottle into his pack, then turned back to me.

"No other tales?" He asked. "About what that crap does?"

"You already saw it." I replied. "It makes more of itself by, well, eating people. Seriously disgusting."

A deep grimace from him, and a muffled noise of disgust from Merrill.

"Terrible." She whispered. "That was terrible."

I didn't stop myself from sliding an arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer. "It was."

"Considering it was eating my brother, can't argue." Varric murmured. "Dammit. I'm really glad I don't dream, or that would give me nightmares for a long time. I'm going to have to warn my friends in the Carta, and the Coterie. Get them to pass the word about how lethal the stuff is. What it does to people. I'll ask them to keep an ear to the ground for any rumors coming out of Tevinter as well."

Likely the best we could do about the Venatori for the moment. I sure as hell wasn't going anywhere near Tevinter to try and hunt them down, deal with Dorian's old boss and his army of magical cultists. Even if I convinced everyone else to come with I couldn't see how that would be anything but a suicide run.

But maybe someone else...

I clenched my jaw, exhaling through my nose at the very notion of contacting that particular bastard.

Merrill felt me tense up, and presumed it was about one of my countless other problems. "It's all right, lethallan. I'm sure Varric's friends will hear about another Elf from your homeland."

The reminder made everyone else glance at one another, than at me, but again it was Fenris with the questions.

"You're certain of the letter's origins?" He asked.

"No." I replied. "But it's written in our alphabet, and I certainly didn't teach it to them. I can't imagine why someone from home would teach it to a group of Carta either."

"Secret code?" Varric suggested, only to dismiss his own theory at once. "No. You don't make people learn a whole new written language just to pass notes. Not with the kind of fancy words you read off. Easier just to write a basic code in your own... shit. You don't think...?"

"That there's two of them?" I asked. "I don't want to think that, but it's the only thing that explains that damned letter. One of them leading those Carta, another one up in Tevinter doing shady shit."

Anders glanced to Fenris. "Could an Elf like Maeve survive there?"

Fenris looked at him as though he was insane. "Maeve would be dead within the first hour of entering Minrathus."

"I'd last two." I countered at once. "I'm good at running away."

He snorted. "An hour and a half, at most. No Elf with her attitude would survive even if they had the magical talent of a Magister. They'd be assassinated quickly to make sure no other Elves got any ideas about where they stood in the hierarchy."

The Gray Warden waved a hand. "What about one that was laying low? Trying to fit in?"

Fenris considered that for a few moments. "It's certainly possible, if one is a good enough actor. If you're able to stomach the insults and degradations offered."

"Might be easier," Varric noted, "if you've got a creepy cult backing you up."

"That as well." Fenris replied. "Fortunately I have never heard of the Venatori being active anywhere outside of Tevinter, and they are one cult of many there. Unless you wish to chase further revenge, Varric, I don't believe it will affect us again."

"Unless they come chasing revenge." Anders noted.

"How?" Fenris countered. "We left no evidence behind, and while we're inferring some did escape, none who actually saw us lived to do so."

I... felt oddly cheered by that. To realize that he was right. We really had killed everyone who'd actually seen us, who actually knew who'd been attacking them. Sure, whoever had been on the far side of that door had lived to run away, but they wouldn't be able to report to their boss about who'd fucked up their operations.

I mean, it was still a colossal problem. Still had all kinds of implications that were freaking me out.

But ... maybe, just maybe, it was a manageable problem. One I could still take my time to think over, rather than one I needed to panic about.

Naturally, I'd just begun to cheer myself up when Fenris went on. "Though I would still ask Maeve if she is certain there is no easy route to her homeland from here."

It was a real struggle not to keep my voice even rather than snapping at him. "If there was I'd have gone home a long time ago, Fenris. Maybe with enough magic you could pull off some kind of super-teleport, but the amount of blood you'd need to shed would be enormous. That or you'd need something close to an old deity to power the spell."

He grunted, glancing to Merrill. "What of your mirror? Could Tevinter have one that leads there?"

Merrill hummed. "They could. Another reason to get mine open as soon as we can. If Tevinter does have one, maybe we could find it using mine."

Varric gave me a significant look, to which I merely narrowed my eyes. He rolled his in reply, saying to Merrill. "Well, I guess we'll wait and see on that then. As ominous as that crap is, now that we're farther away from it I think Broody's right. This is going to be a Tevinter problem, and that's a problem that's a long way away. I'll warn some people, like I said, but otherwise I think we can call this story ended."

For now.

Thinking those two words brought my mood down just as everyone else seemed to be relaxing. Convincing themselves that, as bizarre and unpleasant as today had been, any problems that would result would be dealt with by other people. People very far away. That all we really had to do was give a few warnings, then go back home to deal with our own issues.

I really wished I could believe that.

We sat around for a while longer, but I think all of us were ready for the conversations to be over with. Fenris quietly volunteering to take the first watch was followed by me offering to take the second.

The others sorted out the order for the rest of the night, and then we were all getting as comfortable as we could on the hard ground. I got into our sleeping roll first, Merrill sliding in behind me. I was already pulling at the dregs of my magic before she wrapped an arm around me, her murmured question becoming inaudible as I traded one world for another.

Rude of me. I'd have to apologize to her in the morning.

But in that moment I needed the Fade.

I needed to able to vent my turbulent emotions without everyone else thinking I was insane. More insane than usual, at least.

Longing was already present inside my safe space, tail thrashing, saying nothing as I took a few steps away from her. I looked away, staring into the distance, at the blackened city in the sky... and then I couldn't take it anymore.

Couldn't keep pretending that I'd have time to deal with all of this. That I wasn't coming apart at the seams. That two years away hadn't fucking helped!

I was still dealing with the consequences of my actions. Of Greg's actions in the First Blight. Still dealing with countless problems that I didn't have any solution to. Still felt as if things were getting worse instead of better. That my time away hadn't been a needed recharge; it had been a cowardly flight that had left problems to pile up.

The Mage Question in Kirkwall hadn't calmed down any. I knew I was going to be dragged into it when we got there.

Red lyrium was showing up early. Other Earthlings might be involved.

Bartrand was very, very dead. Varric could play it tough all he wanted, but I knew he was feeling the pain.

Merrill might be falling in love with me. I didn't know what to do about that.

Fenris was still rightfully suspicious of my origins. Even Varric had seemed to be, in those moments before Bartrand's body.

My fake background felt like it was finally cracking under the weight of so many lies and half truths.

Fuck. Fuck.

Taking a deep breath... I threw my head back, and I howled at the top of my lungs. As I traded a wordless scream for an absolute tirade of swearing directed at Bartrand, at Thedas, and at whoever had dragged me here from my home.

By the time I ran out of steam I was panting, and I could see both Guilt and a lesser Terror prowling around outside the Dream-Catcher's web.

"And you fuck off too!" I shrieked.

The third of the Elder Despairs I'd ever met crossed its arms, its ragged cloak hanging from its skeletal frame. It wore a porcelain mask... or maybe its face was the mask. I wasn't sure, and wasn't about to talk to the the thing. Learning its name from Longing had been enough to make me never want to hear it offer so much as a syllable.

I knew myself well enough to know the thing would consume my soul within seconds if I gave it the chance.

Able to speak or not, the mask transformed into a mournful one, complete with artistic tears on the cheeks. Both hands came to its heart, as though truly pained at what I'd just said to it.

I gave it the finger, with both hands, then spun around stalked back to where Longing had silently watched my prolonged fit.

"You," She said, voice flat, "Are a mess."

"No. Shit." I growled.

She let out a frustrated breath, motioning for me to come closer. "Come here and lay down. Your emotions are like an exploding paint factory, more will... see?"

I glanced to one side to see a cloaked Despair poking at my defenses, the boiling lava of a Rage demon swimming ever closer as well.

"Later. We-"

"Lay. Down." Her voice deepened, snapping. "Or wake up."

I glared daggers at her... but I obeyed, laying down on my front. I heard her move around, then felt her ass settle into place on my hips. Strong hands began working at my shoulders a moment later. The massage wasn't real, not physically, but it was some kind of metaphor for her massaging my soul.

And the knots in my back apparently corresponded to my boiling emotions.

"Ow!"

"What happened?" She asked, ignoring my pained yelp.

Surrendering further, I gave her a short recap of the day. Complete with a recitation of what the letter had said, how many prisoners had been fed to the red lyrium, and my thoughts that more than one fellow Earthling was involved. I skipped a few bits. I didn't mention Corypheus by name, or that I knew exactly who the Venatori were. She'd get those details later.

When shit crossed enough lines that I had to give her my memories of Inquisition. Things were already perilously close to that point, but I was determined to hold out for now.

Longing listened patiently, asking the occasional question for clarification. Once she had me pause until she could push a bit more of her power into the Dream-Catcher, keeping it running when Merrill and Anders joined us. Not literally, both were merely dreaming, but it put a bit more pressure on the defenses all the same.

She also put a silencing spell around us, just in case either of them escaped their dreams and became cognizant. The last thing that i needed today was for one of them to overhear what we were talking about. That would... not be good, to put it mildly.

"More Terrans." Longing sighed when I finished, gently working at my spine. "While your theory regarding the language is sound, I must point out that it is possible for one to have taught the Venatori written English."

"Lot of work." I grunted around a lot of pressure in the middle of my back. "Easier ways to keep things secret."

"True, but there is another benefit. If they are aware of yourself, of Gregory, then learning written English would allow them to read anything you attempted to keep private."

"...shit." Writing journals in English to keep my memories straight had been one of the first things I'd thought of. At least once I'd been able to steal something to write with, and paper to write on. It followed that anyone else from Earth might think to do the same once they realized that the written languages here didn't match up.

And someone cunning might think to teach their lackeys to read it so that they could gather intelligence, or intercept letters. If Greg had taught Bethany English, the two of them might not bother with any kind of code words in any mail between them. Their letters could be plain text, the pair of them trusting that no one else could read them even if they were opened or intercepted.

"Maybe." I allowed, shifting my head so that my other cheek was resting on the ground. "That seems like an outside chance though. More likely that there's more than one of them, and they use it to stop their underlings from reading their mail. At least two poor bastards that woke up in Darkspawn tunnels, or near red lyrium ruins."

Longing's weight shifted down a bit, hands reaching my lower back. "Agreed, but we must consider all of the options."

"We?"

"We are partners in this, are we not?" She asked reasonably. "Allies? Certainly we are against the Corruption. It is a danger to your plans, my plans, and all life in both worlds."

It was hard to argue with that.

"With that being said, however, I must bring up another potential ally in this matter." She went on.

My breath came out in a low, angry little noise. "I'm not writing him."

"Then write Bethany Hawke." Longing said. "She has done you no harm at all."

Maybe not, but her choice of male company was abysmal. So was her choice of friends.

Longing went on, "Further, while you may be attempting to go home, he has made his home here. He will be well motivated to deal with any great crisis, and to investigate the possibility of others from your home that have made it here. I must presume from your fears that these signs indicate darker actions from the second or third games?"

I had to admit it. "Something like that."

"Then you should warn them, if only so that you do not have to handle everything." A pause, then her thumb dug into a spot that made me hiss. "And before you complain again, remember that I can feel your emotions. You are already resigned to writing a letter, you are merely being petulant."

"...fuck off." I mumbled.

"Promises, Maeve." Another, longer pause came as she worked further, helping me slowly relax. "Still, all of this is concerning. Especially as I do not have all of the information to properly give you advice."

"Longing-"

"Please, Maeve. You already agreed to give your memories of the second game. I will pay a great price for those, now, and those of the third game. You know that I will."

I huffed, sending a bit of dirt tumbling. "And you know what you need to do to get Dragon Age Two. Just give me Wisdom's theory right now, and I'll let you eat those memories."

Her weight shifted again, hands going still. When she spoke it was quieter, almost pained. "I cannot. You would not handle it well."

Grimacing, I twisted around as best I could, trying to get a better look at her. Sure enough the skin around her once-missing eye had cracked further, the scars reappearing, her jaw clenched in obvious pain as she denied her nature.

As she refused to give me that which I desired. That which she had agreed to turn over.

"...shit. Are you all right?"

In response she shifted the hand on my back, firmly but gently pushing me back down. "Yes, but do not ask again tonight. I shall complete our deal when I have further opinions and evidence. That leaves us free to create an arrangement regarding the third game."

Longing could be subtle in a lot of ways, but she was practically screaming at me to drop the subject. She always got incredibly touchy when I made her act against her nature. Whenever I caught her suffering the effects of doing so.

Not that I could judge her. Literally. I had no idea what that was even like, since I didn't have the same limitations on my soul that she did.

"No point." I said after a long moment. "Giving you Inquisition basically gives you Two, which would negate our prior deal. You'll have to wait."

Her fingers stilled just as they began to work at my shoulders. "But you are going to give it to me?"

"I'm freaked out enough that I'm seriously considering it." I replied, closing my eyes. "I don't want to. It's the last hand I have to play in our little dance."

"Not true." She said, resuming her massage. "I have a great many things I desire from you beyond those memories. We will still have much to bargain about."

My closed eyes rolled. "Not having sex with you."

She made a tutting noise, and I felt something lightly smack me on the ass. Her tail, I hoped. "So you have said, but your lusts are a problem for another time."

"Glad we agree. Going to drop the bit about Merrill?" I asked.

"No." She said at once. "Guilt will attempt to break through the moment that situation... what is your phrase? Ah, when that situation blows up in your face. I would prefer not to battle another Elder for your soul again."

I sighed. "Fine, just not tonight. I need to relax tonight, you can harass me tomorrow."

"As you wish, dear host."

We relaxed in peaceful silence until Fenris woke me to take my turn on watch.