It still amazed me that Thedas had a postal service.

Well... sort of.

Let me correct that statement. The Chantry would transfer mail from one local Chantry to another. How frequently that happened was entirely up to the whims of the locals, or how important you were, or how many letters they had sitting around.. Once it got there, the local Revered Mother may or may not, it depended on how they felt about being a messenger, actually arrange for it to be delivered by a lay sister. Otherwise they just hung on to it until the recipient showed up to ask if they had any mail. If you were really lucky, or 'donated' enough, they might even send it by sea, which would get it there sort-of quickly.

And to correct myself a second time, I really shouldn't have been surprised; they charged an arm and a leg for the service. A neat little bit of profit for the church.

"Five bloody silver." I growled, my ass slamming down onto the chair. "Five!"

Varric chuckled from his place beside me, everyone else already seated around us. We'd claimed the rather dingy corner in the back of the inn, making sure that Fenris and Anders were the ones with their backs to the wall. Not because they were the most alert of us, though Fenris probably was, but because they were the tallest and would be able to see over our heads.

Not that there were many people to watch. The small inn was the last one on the north side of the mountains, before the road cut through to Kirkwall proper. Our only company were the dozen or so members of a small merchant caravan heading to Starkhaven, and all of them had recognized Varric.

They knew to leave us to our business once he'd bought them all a round of drinks, in other words.

"Two silver tax for your ears it sounds like." Varric said, already pushing a mug my way. "Here."

I glanced at it, "What'd I get?"

Anders answered the question. "Don't worry. One part cheap wine, six parts water."

"Thanks." Picking up the mug, I took a quick sip. Watery grape juice was my reward, a flavor I was sadly used to since I'd forced myself to quit even the mildest ales. "Do we trust the food here?"

Varric shrugged, "I ordered bread and a potato each. Should be up any time now. Not exactly a welcome home feast for you all, but I'll get a better one prepared once we get back to the city."

Merrill tittered at my annoyed expression, chiding me. "You knew it was going to happen, lethallan. We couldn't avoid going back to Kirkwall forever."

I huffed, setting my mug down. It was an old subject, but the banter over the past week had helped keep Varric from lapsing into depression. Helped me do the same too, if I was being honest.

"I'm pretty sure we could have if we'd really worked at it. I'm equally sure Varric would do very well for himself in Rivain, and Anders would love how mages are treated there."

Said mage smiled faintly. "Are they as free as the rumors suggest?"

Merrill nodded, "They get to walk in and out of the Circle as they please. I mean, most of them still live there, I think, but it's not like Kirkwall. Or Ferelden."

"Something to aspire to." He replied. "But I'd rather help make the south more like Rivain than simply run away there."

She hummed, engaging him in what she'd seen of Rivain, particularly in regards to its magic, and the pair of them quickly dragged Varric into the conversation. It meandered to giving him ideas about a new Rivaini villain for his books, and the three of them quickly lost track of anything else.

That left Fenris and I sitting quietly, something that suited both of us just fine. Him because he didn't talk much to begin with, me because I was still in a foul mood over everything that had happened on this trip. I'd been recovering, sort of, until I'd had to actually write the man whose plan had seen Petrice die in my arms.

I still wasn't sure about his claims of it being an emergency plan, that had been put into action against his advice, but I didn't really care either way. Childish of me, I know, but I couldn't help but be angry even two years removed. Knowing I had to write it had been painful. Actually doing it had been agonizing.

Covering it up by writing a different letter to Isabella, recapping events of her, would hopefully stop anyone else from realizing that I was reaching out to a man we all hated. Assuming he really was in Orzammar like I suspected, at least. Even odds said I was sending a letter to no one, but the location was my only reasonable guess. At least one person who knew Greg should be there. A person who may be local... or may not have been.

I sipped more of my juice, glaring at the table, feeling a scowl start to appear as my thoughts turned dark yet again.

Longing and I had suspected that Greg and I weren't the only ones from Earth, that he might have others with him, but we hadn't known for sure. Now we did... just in the way we'd expected. Now we knew that someone from home was either willingly, or more likely, forced, to work with the Red Lyrium Lunatics. A nightmare scenario I'd never even considered being a possibility.

Fortunately it hadn't sounded like Corypheus was loose just yet, or at least he hadn't been when the letter had been written. So it wasn't a total nightmare, not yet at least. But how long that state of affairs would last? I certainly had no idea. Hawke would certainly never be coming out to find his prison like in the game, and I doubted that Bethany would be making the trip from wherever she was hidden away. Without them to breach the wards, could the old Darkspawn get out on his own?

Probably. Eventually. The magic holding him wouldn't last forever, especially if he could attract some ignorant Gray Wardens to come stumbling around. At a minimum, whoever the Voice was, they were working on that problem. Were trying to get him free for reasons unknown.

Whether or not he got loose wasn't really the question. The question was what the hell I'd do about it, besides swallow my rage long enough to write Greg a letter. It led to yet more questions, questions I'd been putting off as long as possible. Ones I hadn't planned on even thinking about for years. Questions I'd have to deal with, since I was definitely going to be stuck on Thedas at least that long.

Kirkwall? For all of my fears and worries about Meredith, Anders, and the Qunari, it was small potatoes compared to the Conclave. Compared to a Mage Rebellion that was going to break out no matter what I did in the city.

The Conclave. Thousands of people were going to be blown up by a magical nuke.

Basic decency said to do what I could to stop it. Morality said to do the same.

Cold logic demanded to know how I planned to do that, and how I'd get anyone to believe me. It also reminded me that warning everyone wouldn't actually do a damned thing. Unless I found him first, and stopped him, Solas was going to give his orb to Corypheus to try and kick-start the artifact. Warning everyone at the Conclave might stop the Temple of Sacred Ashes from being blown apart, but I might be celebrating that victory at the same time Denerim was getting blown up instead.

As far as I knew there wasn't anything particularly special about the Divine herself. Just Corypheus wanting to be dramatic about his ritual. Using Alistair or Anora as the primary sacrifice instead would probably be good enough for him. Or maybe he'd go to Val Royeaux and use Celene instead. Or Nevarra. Or Minrathus. Point was, he had plenty of options even if he wanted maximum melodrama. Hell, for all I knew he didn't need sacrifices at all, and could do the ritual in the middle of nowhere. In that case there would be literally nothing I could do to stop him.

I sighed, bringing my cup up to drink some more.

No point in warning the Divine, even if I could do it in a way that might see her believe me. Well, I supposed I could try and ambush him... heh. Ambushing an immortal bastard who body-jumps to Wardens? Was that something he'd already have, or did he need his dragon... fuck. I couldn't remember. And I had no idea when he'd corrupt the dragon to begin with.

It was seriously looking like the only way to influence events was to find Solas first. In theory, I could reach out to him in the Fade. With Longing's help, at least. I'd be at a massive disadvantage if we argued, but I could try it. Convince him not to use give away his orb. Convince him to be patient and wait. Accept him unleashing the apocalypse on Thedas in exchange for him sending me home?

Maybe it would work. I'd just live out my life on Earth wracked with guilt, never knowing what actually happened. Whether or not my friends lived. If the Elves among them who survived would consider their new power worth the loss of everyone who didn't make it.

Could I do that? Could I make that decision for them?

...no. No I couldn't, but that left me in the same Goddamned conundrum I was facing with every other bit of future knowledge I had.

I couldn't see what I could do about any of it.

"That's a dark look." Varric said, interrupting my thoughts. "What's on your mind, Buzz? It can't be just telling Rivaini and the kid about what happened."

"No, it's not." I shook my head, lying through my teeth. "Just worrying about Kirkwall now that we're a few days out."

Anders gave me a knowing look. "Meredith?"

"Yup." I said, leaning back in my seat. "And Dumar, and the Alienage, and all of the nobles who are going to be up in arms about me coming back. I'm sure most of them were hoping I'd die in a ditch somewhere."

A low chuckle from Fenris warned me even before he spoke. "Varric hasn't told you the latest tales, has he?"

My eyes narrowed, sliding to the Dwarf in question. He was doing his best to look innocent, and failing miserably.

"No." I said flatly. "He hasn't, but he's about to."

"It's just the usual." Varric tried to deflect, though the words were ruined by his clear amusement in baiting me. "Nothing to worry about."

My index finger began tapping rapidly on the wood. "Try again."

He hemmed and hawed, clearly appreciating the newest distraction, until Fenris finally spoke up again.

"You've graduated from failed bard to successful assassin." He told me, still mirthful. "Varric apparently used you to eliminate his enemies before paying you to play the bodyguard instead. Boredom led you to Meredith, who offered you double to hunt mages on the Templars behalf."

I blinked slowly, a long groan escaping my lips. "Seriously?"

Fenris grinned, evidently enjoying my reaction. "To hear the nobility tell it, you chafed under the restrictions, taking up dueling innocent young men to pass the time. Baiting them by playing the Elven waif, then murdering them in cold blood."

"I dueled one noble! Not even to the death!"

"Buzz." Varric chided, "Since when have silly things like facts ever gotten in the way of a good story? Especially one that makes the blue-bloods look like victims instead of pompous assholes?"

Grumbling, I took a heavy pull from my drink, wishing it was far stronger. Merrill and Fenris both laughed at my reaction, giving Anders the opportunity to interject, his own eyes alight with amusement.

"Don't forget her seducing Meredith as well." His grin widened when I choked on my grape-juice. "Trading her body for preferential treatment for the Alienage."

I coughed to try and clear my lungs, Merrill gently rapping my back with her palm to try and help. Eventually I managed to choke out, "Fuck! Fucking... seriously?"

Anders smirked around a sip of his ale, "You can't be that surprised. As if the old nobility would believe any Elf could do half of what you did without degrading herself in some way. Oh..."

The fading amusement made me frown even before he went on more seriously. "You should be ready for comments about Petrice, and how about how it ended."

"I seduced her too?" I guessed.

He nodded, "You did, and you fled the city in shame for failing to protect both her and Meredith."

Varric sobered up a little as well, "Yeah. Be ready for that kind of thing when you have to deal with the blue bloods."

I shrugged. I was about to say I was used to it, maybe try and turn the conversation back to the jovial, when raised voices from near the front made us all turn. It was loud enough that the quiet chatter filling the small inn faded away into nothing; the merchants and their guards all mimicking us to try and see what was going on.

The door slammed open a second later, and a Dwarven man stormed in. "Healer! We need a healer, now!"

Two other men, both Human, rushed in before anyone could reply, carrying someone on a rough stretcher between them. Anders began to stand up, clearly ready to go help, when yet another person came through the door.

It took the a while, because the door wasn't sized for someone that tall. Or someone with horns that wide.

At that point in my life, any Kossith coming in probably would have set me off at least a little. Made me paranoid and wary until I knew where they lay on the Qunari-Vashoth spectrum.

But that Qunari in particular... I knew exactly where he was at this point in his life.

"Any healers in here?" The Iron Bull didn't need to raise his voice. It was deep enough to reach every corner at once. "We'll pay good coin for anyone with potions or skill with a needle."

Anders tried to abort his motion, but Bull was already swinging around to look at him. At us.

He'd already lost the eye, but he did look a bit younger. A little less scarred, his facial hair darker, but his preference for going around bare-chested despite the winter weather was very apparent.

"You." He nodded to Anders, making the mage sigh at getting caught out. "Come on. She's bleeding out. I'll pay you a sovereign for whatever you can do."

Our ex-Gray Warden barely moved his lips. "Maeve?"

I worked my jaw, exhaled, and then motioned for him to go. "Whoever she is, she didn't do anything to us. Take his money."

Chairs shifted as Anders shot off at once, following the men carrying the wounded woman. I recognized the front one as Krem, who was far more handsome in person than I'd expected. The one in back was someone with a scraggly brown beard who I didn't recognize at all. Nor could I tell who was on the stretcher. She was Human, dark skinned, but similarly unknown. Either people I didn't remember, ones who hadn't made it into the game, or people who'd come and gone in the years before.

Seeing that Varric's party was apparently all right with it, one of the waitresses darted over, opening one of the back doors, ushering the small party through it.

Bull made to follow, at least until I raised my voice. "Not you, big guy. You stay out here."

His single eye snapped to me. "This your place?"

"No." I admitted. "But I trust you as far as I can throw you, soulless. Not about to let you loom over his shoulder while he works."

The insult about his soul was a guaranteed way to make most true Qunari lose their shit, but The Iron Bull had more self control than the sailors and soldiers I'd taunted in the past. He merely grunted as if I'd poked him with a stick, then began carefully picking his way across the room, speaking to the Dwarven man who'd first stormed in.

"Rocky, get us a table. Make sure Skinner and Medals don't cause a mess." He said, without ever quite looking away from us. "And get us some ale as well."

The dwarf nodded, a twitchy little Elven woman and an unhappy looking Knight only coming in when he called for them. I lost track of them after they ducked into a corner, far more focused on Bull as he came over.

"Buzz?" Varric asked quietly. "He Qunari?"

"Pretty sure." I rolled my neck, cracking it once. Then I pushed myself to my feet, waving toward the back. "Varric? Merrill? You two mind going to keep an eye on Anders? Fenris can watch my back out here."

"Are you sure?" Merrill asked. "He's very big, even for a Qunari."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Try not to stare at his bare chest for too long, lethallan."

She colored immediately. "I would never!"

Bull's chuckle as he took a seat at two tables over told us that he'd heard, and the sound of him laughing only made Merrill redden further. I patted her on the shoulder while she sputtered, casually making my own way over to a man I'd honestly hoped to never meet in person.

Or, if I did, not for six or seven years yet.

Behind me I heard Varric teasing Merrill as the pair of them got up as well, the slow buzz of conversation resuming in the small inn. I still waited until I heard the door open and then close again before I actually took the seat across from him.

Sadly sitting down didn't make the difference in our sizes any less comical. Up close it was clear that he had at least two feet and probably two hundred pounds on me, if not more. I'd have to be ready with the magic because there would zero chance I'd ever be able to take him in any kind of conventional fight.

Keeping the word to a spell in mind, I took the lead before he could. "So. Want to tell me what a Ben-Hassarath team is doing north of Kirkwall?"

He looked at me for a few seconds. I could almost see the calculations running behind that dark eye. Could see him considering denying it, deflecting. But that wasn't the kind of spy that Bull was.

"Not a team." He said, freely admitting it just as he later would to the Inquisitor. "Just me. Passing through on another job."

I hummed. "And the wounded woman?"

"Name's Tara. Nice girl out of Nevarra, handles our supplies and ledgers." Bull supplied. "We ran into some bandits a couple miles out. Probably waiting to ambush the merchants over there, but decided we'd be a good warmup. I was laying down in the cart, and the others were behind it. Must have thought we were just locals passing through."

I couldn't pick out the lie, which didn't mean anything when it came to him. Still, it probably would have been stupid to lie, considering I could have asked any of the Chargers along with about what had happened.

"You get them all?" I asked.

He nodded. "Pretty sure, but I'll admit we might have missed a few. She took a bad hit right at the start, two crossbow bolts, so we were in a bit of a hurry to finish up and head this way."

I eyed him. "You're not out of breath."

"We didn't think it was that bad at first." Bull shrugged, "Got a potion in her, patched her up. Thought she'd make it here all right. She must have torn something later because she started to seize up when we were a little ways out."

Mulling that over didn't really give me any inkling that he was lying about that either. Again, he didn't really have a reason to be, and it was probably a sign of just how paranoid I was becoming that I was even looking for the lie.

My pause gave him a chance to speak. "I could ask you something similar. You're that Elven knight whose been messing with our supply lines to Kirkwall, aren't you?"

"What gave me away?" I asked, flicking my eyes briefly to one side when the bearded man emerged from the back room. He walked past us with only a single glance of his own, heading for where the others were seated.

"The taunt about my soul." He replied with an easy grin. "Couple survivors swam to shore after one of the attacks, reported how much you liked using that one. Second clue was the fancy sword on your hip. It says you're not a common merc, and I'm pretty sure that dwarf in the fancy coat is Varric Tethras. You two were supposed to be close if I remember the reports right."

"Well, already admitted it." I leaned back, dropping a hand to the sword in question. "Am I going to need to use this tonight?"

Massive hands rose in surrender. "Nah. I'm headed to Orlais, totally different assignment. I'll make a drop saying I saw you, but that'll be it. Besides. Your man's healing one of mine. Even for a spy, it'd be poor form to knife you in the back after that."

"I'd be reassured if your job title didn't literally translate as Liar." I countered.

To my consternation Bull actually laughed, his chair groaning when he leaned back. He had a good, easy laugh. One that made you want to smile and laugh with him. Charismatic bastard.

"Yeah, that's fair." He said, still grinning. "Consider how stupid it would be of me to try it instead. The rest of the crew won't be all that understanding of betraying the people who saved one of ours, so it'd be a solo gig. Hard to take on an armed party as paranoid as yours is."

That felt more true than his prior words. I'd still make sure we had a watch tonight, but I didn't really think he'd come after us. Well, so long as we were on watch. He'd respect our wariness, but if we were stupid and lazy he'd probably try to cut my throat just to deal with a threat to his precious Qun.

"Still. Gotta say that it's weird meeting you like this." Bull went on, his expression smoothing out. "You mind me asking what you were doing out here?"

"Yes." I said without any hesitation.

Another deep chuckle came, but there wasn't much of a smile. "That's fair. How about a little deal, then. I don't ask about that, you don't ask why I'm going to Orlais."

I already knew why he was heading to Orlais, but he didn't need to know that. "All right."

"Good. Glad we're in agreement." His chair shifted as he got himself settled once again, "Can I get you an ale?"

A quick shake of my head, "No thanks."

He gave me a broad shrug. "Suit yourself. Hey!"

The barmaid, a freckled redhead probably on the wrong side of legal on Earth, came over at once. Her blue eyes drifted down to Bull's chest, then snapped back up to his with an embarrassed flush.

"A pint, if you could." Bull said, casually leaning back to show off a bit more. I rolled my eyes when he raised an arm to point to the table where the other Chargers were. "Same for everyone over there."

"Of-of course!" The girl stuttered, retreating with another blush.

I waited for her to leave, then couldn't stop a snort. "Really?"

"What?" He asked, all innocence. "She's cute, and she's a redhead. Best thing about the south."

I could have said something snarky about the south's best attribute being the lack of the Qun, but I held my tongue. Instead I simply snorted again, shook my head, and let my hand finally leave the hilt of my sword.

Bull noticed, because of course he did, and a slight tension seemed to ease out of his shoulders as well.

We didn't say anything for a little while. Just regarded one another until his drink came. He laid on the flattery when that happened, and slipped her silver rather than copper for the drink. The words and the tip only made her flush worse when she darted off again, and I didn't doubt for a moment she'd be sneaking into Bull's room tonight.

Eventually Bull broke the silence, voice quieting compared to his usual boom. "I gotta ask. You really had the Tome of Koslun in your hands? The real thing?"

Not quite the question I'd expected, though I rather should have. "Yup. Heavy bastard."

He shook his head, "And... what? You just gave it to the 'Vints? You know we'd have given almost anything to get that back right?"

I snorted. "Yeah, but I didn't give it to the 'Vints. I hate them as much as I hate your Qun. I gave it to a woman who had a death mark from pirates. That paid off her debt to them, and they're the ones who sold it to the 'Vints."

"Ah." Bull nodded. "That explains a lot. She's the captain of that ship you were on, right? You two lovers?"

My head shook. "As much as she wishes otherwise, no. I've got a rule about relationships in Thedas. They're not happening."

His massive head bobbed again. "Right. Heard about that. You're supposed to be north of even us, right? You know there's nothing up there besides ocean, and the empty lands our ancestors left."

"There's a lot more than that." I replied. "Just like there's a lot more east or west than the maps show."

Another low chuckle came with his tankard rising in a mock salute. "Nice dodge."

Just my luck I'd run into someone whose literal job involved seeing through the kind of half-truths I constantly used to protect myself.

"Thanks." I drawled, "Still true though."

"I suppose it is." That charming smile returned. "You want to keep this dance up all night, or you want to go our separate ways? Not that you're not fun to look at and banter with, but I want to check on Tara and get my Chargers fed."

I snorted. "Don't try and flatter me. I'm a flat chested bitch who's anything but fun to look at."

"Severe though." He countered. "Gives you a nice edge. Nice hips too."

It was just weird hearing that coming from him, compared to from Isabella. "Whatever. Go sit with your crew, I'll check on the healing and send someone to tell you how it's going. I won't stab you in your sleep so long as you don't try anything, and let's say we keep our truce going until we both leave."

"Deal." He said, heaving himself slowly to his feet.

I did the same, neither of us quite turning our backs on the other until we'd retreated several paces from the table.

Then he turned, strolling back to where the other Chargers were sipping their ales, pulling a chair over to their table. I turned as well, motioning for Fenris to come with as I headed toward the door.

"Ben-Hassarath?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. Hissrad, I think." I murmured back, the pair of us stopping just outside of the door. "Playing the merc to gather intel. Says he's headed to Orlais, must have come in from the east coast."

"Or Kirkwall." Fenris replied. "Or he's lying and is heading the same direction as we are."

I nodded, "Or that. We'll have to sleep in one room tonight, with a watch set and wards up. Leave as close to dawn as we can manage."

Fenris looked approving. "Wise, but I will admit surprise. You don't want to eliminate him?"

Kill The Iron Bull? No. I'd fucked up canon enough, both accidentally and on purpose. I wasn't about to fuck it up even more by killing someone who might break free of his chains.

"I hate the Qun, but that doesn't mean I want to kill all of its members." I replied. "Maybe being away will help him go native."

"Maybe. I notice that you don't extend that same courtesy to Tevinter mages."

I snorted. "That's because they're slaving assholes who don't deserve the same chance."

His lips twitched. "There are times when I could almost like you, Maeve."

"I could say the same about you. Come on. Let's see how Anders is doing, then let's get ready for bed."

The sooner we slept, the sooner we'd be on our way back to Kirkwall... where a whole new host of problems would await us.