The Templars standing guard outside of the Grand Chantry came thundering down the steps as soon as they got a good look at us.

"Careful! This man is barely holding on as it is." Thrask barked, "Are there any officers present?"

A woman's voice came through the helm of the one on the left, "Knight-Captain Rutherford is in a meeting with the Grand Cleric."

"Fetch him at once! You! Retrieve water and light food, quickly! And any restoratives available!"

"Serrah!" Both saluted before running back up, armor clattering.

I grunted in annoyance, "Really, Thrask? You couldn't have had them carry him? He's a heavy bastard."

"He's not that heavy." Brennan said from his other side, "You're just tiny, Maeve."

Gamlen made a grumbling sound, but seemed too exhausted to offer more than that. He'd done his best to walk at the start of the hike, I'd give him that much. Sadly he'd run out of energy almost immediately, forcing Brennan and I to take all of his weight.

...all right, forcing Brennan to take most of his weight.

Ugh. I hated being small sometimes.

I focused on my nonsensical complaining as we walked up the stairs. It helped me ignore the fact that I was marching into the Grand Chantry, a place crawling with nearly as many Templars as the Gallows. My only real defense being the quick-and-dirty draining of my magic that we'd done before we'd left.

We'd ducked out of Gamlen's sight, then I'd cast and re-cast my barrier on Thrask until I'd hit the edge of mana exhaustion. He'd followed that by hitting me with a some kind of drain. It left me a bit woozy, and I had a killer headache, but there wasn't any chance of my magic reacting to my emotions while I was inside. Not until I had a good long sleep to recover.

We were also hopeful that it would stop any Templar or Circle-Mage who touched my skin from being able to feel magic, however the hell they did that. Hopefully, but I was going to avoid touching anyone if I could possibly help it.

The physical discomfort was fine, even with my body aching from hauling Gamlen around Hightown.

The fact that I was virtually defenseless against Templars, without even my flamethrower spell, was a lot less fun to think about.

We eventually reached the front doors, finding that the guards had left them open for us. Thrask led us inside a building that was nothing even close to my hazy memories of this particular level. The Grand Chantry was, well, Grand. It was the Thedas version of a cathedral, and it was as massive as it was ornate. The main hall stretched far out into the distance, countless pews running up and down each side. At the very far end I saw a raised section, complete with a huge statue of Andraste.

I'd been in here before. Once to try and listen to a service, and once to grab Merrill, but I'd never really had a chance to look around. Nor did I that time; apparently hauling in a half-naked man covered in scars was the kind of thing that drew attention.

Several women and a pair of men swarmed us before we made it five steps past the doors. Leading them was one of the Templar guards, his voice frustrated. "Revered Mother, we need supplies at once!"

A prissy old crone replied, "I will be the judge of that, Ser Templar. Is that him?"

"Yes." Thrask spoke for us, waving a gauntlet at Gamlen. "This man has been held captive by Maleficars. He needs restoration tonics, food, and water."

The old woman, wearing one of those stupid hats, sniffed as if insulted that he'd dared speak to her. "As I just said, I will determine what he needs once I examine him. Sebastian, Matteo? Take him from the Guardswoman and her servant, lay him out on the pew."

My spike of anger at her attitude, and her choice of descriptions for me, vanished when one of the names registered.

Sebastian? Seriously? How the hell was I running into everyone al...ready...

"Please, allow me to take him for you, my lady."

...oh.

I clenched my jaw to make sure there wasn't a repeat of the Isabella incident.

It was a near run thing.

Sebastian Vael was as handsome as Isabella was gorgeous. Even in loose-fitting clothes that didn't flatter him at all, you could still run him down like a checklist. Perfect cheekbones, gentle eyes, a jaw that was just masculine enough to attract, mildly tousled hair...

"...yeah, thanks." I ducked back, letting him take my place at Gamlen's side. That gave me the chance to pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling sharply between my teeth.

Brennan didn't help by quickly sliding over to my side, nudging me gently in the ribs. "You all right there?"

"No." I muttered back. "My head is killing me."

"Uh huh." She drawled, "You sure it's your head?"

I threw my own elbow into her side, wincing when it collided with armor. "Get your head out of the fucking gutter."

She let out a quiet snicker, taking my Earth slang in stride. "Guess you do like both."

I grumbled under my breath, not really saying anything intelligible. Just venting my general frustration at Thedas being Thedas until more people came bustling out of a side door. The other Templar sentry was in the lead, three figures quickly following behind her.

One was definitely Cullen. He wasn't quite as handsome as Sebastian, at least to me. A little too chizzled, but I could see why he had plenty of fan-girls back on Earth. He was walking beside another old woman, her ornate robes marking her as someone of incredible importance, while a shorter woman was hidden behind them.

It was easy to guess that new old bird was the Grand Cleric, even if I couldn't remember what she'd looked like in game.

Despite her visible age she bustled forward with impressive speed, her eyes sweeping over us in a moment. They lingered on me, a tiny frown creasing her lips, then moved to settle on our wounded guest.

"Gamlen Amell." I blinked in surprise when she said his name without hesitating. "I thought you had departed for Amaranthine more than a month ago, after you debt to the Chantry was settled."

Gamlen tried to reply, but it was lost in a series of coughs.

I exhaled and raised my voice when neither Thrask or Brennan seemed about to explain, "He said the 'Vints took him right off the docks, in plain view of the Guard. They've had him tied up in his family's own estate since then, bleeding him for magical research."

The Grand Cleric turned, but the old woman hovering over Gamlen snapped at me first. "Speak when spoken to, servant! You are in the presence of the Grand Cleric!"

My lips pulled back from my teeth. Brennan's warning nudge kept me from replying... at least until I saw the old woman pull something out of a pocket. Something metallic that gleamed with a sharp edge.

"What the actual fuck are you doing!?" I couldn't stop the shout from coming out.

"Silence her!" The woman spat. "His humors must be balanced quickly after being mutilated by dark magic."

I... gaped at her, and Brennan proved her friendship by taking a step toward the old bitch, clearly ready to try and haul her off if I said the word. Of course that sent the priest not-named Sebastian to stand between them, all of the Templars twitching as if they'd been taken by surprise but didn't quite know what to do.

"The man is low on blood, and you want to bleed him?" I didn't bother keeping the scorn from my voice. Or keeping it quiet. "Are you insane or just senile?"

The woman whirled on me from behind her pretend-guard, but behind her I saw the Grand Cleric sigh... and Cullen quickly bring a hand up to cover his mouth.

At least I was amusing one of the bigwigs. Yay me.

"Templars! Remove this elf at-"

"Mother Bettina." The Grand Cleric cut her off, her tone brooking no dissent. "It is late and you have duties in the early morning. Return to bed and rest. Sister Petrice will see to Lord Amell."

She protested, because of course she did. Saying that Petrice was far too young, that she wasn't qualified as a master healer yet. That lasted until Cullen made an impatient wave of a hand, and the female Templar quickly took the old bitch by the arm and dragged her off; the not-Sebastian brother hesitated, then scuttled after them.

They hadn't gone a dozen paces before a slim woman in heavy robes stepped out from behind the Grand Cleric, quickly striding over and kneeling down. She was blonde, a bit on the tall side, and looked like her face was locked into a perpetual scowl.

Petrice...

I frowned, trying to remember where I'd heard that name before. Was she the.. anti-Qunari zealot? Or was she from a different quest...

I couldn't remember, but she impressed me by taking Gamlen's wrist and checking his pulse. She nodded slowly in time with the beat, then raised her voice. "Water and rejuvenation potions at once. Blankets as well, and we should move him near a fire to warm him."

Sebastian and the other brother quickly got Gamlen upright again, our little party moving away from the doors and over to one of the fireplaces set into the wall. Thrask, Brennan, and I helped by hauling one of the pews over, settling it in place as Petrice fed more fuel into the simmering flame.

"Ser Thrask." Cullen spoke once Gamlen was settled again. The extra guards had gone back to the front door, and Petrice was fussing over the wounded noble, leaving us with nothing to do but wait for the healing supplies to arrive. "A report for myself and the Grand Cleric, if you would. And if the Guardswoman could join us as well?"

Both glanced to me, which made me wince when both of the authority figures present clearly noticed. My impatient shooing gesture got them moving, leaving me free to retreat over to where Petrice was watching Sebastian carefully drip water into Gamlen's mouth.

"It was foolish of you to speak up as you did." She said without looking away from her new patient.

"I tend to have a problem controlling my mouth." I replied. "And besides, I was right."

To my surprise she huffed, giving me an almost sly grin when she glanced over. "You were. Revered Mother Bettina is assuredly senile, but few are willing to challenge her all the same. Has he had any potions yet?"

"Just one, to close the wounds that were still open. And a bit of water to help it down after."

"Good. More than that wouldn't have sat well with him, not without food to go with it. That should be enough, Brother Vael. Let us give him a moment to recover. Perhaps you can see what is taking so long for the others to return?"

"Of course." Sebastian gave us both a damnably charming smile, then quickly strode through the same doorway that everyone had come from.

Petrice sighed in his absence, slowly moving to take a knee beside Gamlen. "Our own nobility, held captive by Maleficar for use in Tevinter rituals. Qunari allowed to remain within our walls. This city is darkening by the day."

I let out a tight breath through my nose. "It's Kirkwall. And you missed the slave raid on the Alienage."

Her eyes snapped to mine. "The what!?"

"The reason we even found him." I waved a hand at Gamlen. "The old 'Vint who owned the old Amell estate got thirty of his friends together the same night the Guard stopped protecting the Alienage. We decided to make sure the other two mages didn't feel like trying again, and found this poor guy tied down and cut up."

"This is the first I have heard of such a thing." She flicked her eyes to where the Grand Cleric was watching Cullen interrogate my friends. "Was the Grand Cleric told?"

I shrugged. "I assume so. Ser Thrask told Meredith, she's giving him an award or something."

She let out a contemplative hum. "I see. I must trust that the Knight-Commander informed her, and that she did not tell others to avoid a panic."

A snort got out. "Or she didn't think anyone would care about elves."

"The Grand Cleric cares for all who are not heretics, as does the Chantry." Her voice hardened. "Are you a Dalish heretic?"

"No." I replied honestly, "But the Chantry certainly doesn't welcome me, or anyone like me. I tried to attend a service here once. I didn't even get to hear the opening prayer before a Sister came over and... what did she say? 'Get back to the kitchens, knife-ear! The Maker created your kind to serve, so serve!' When I didn't get up fast enough she grabbed me by the ear and tried to haul me off."

Petrice surprised me by wincing, glancing at my longer-than-usual-even-for-an-elf ears. "It is unfortunate that I both believe you, and that I am certain I know which Sister would have done such a thing. Is it any wonder that we lose so many to heresies such as the Qun, when we have such foolishness in our own ranks?"

Yeah. This was definitely the one who would do her best to kick-start a war with the Arishok.

Of course I couldn't tell her she was wrong at the moment. She wasn't. The generally shitty way elves were treated in Human cities probably made the Qun extremely attractive to a lot of them, especially since few, if any, would really understand that they were just trading one awful way of life for another, differently awful one.

"You said it, not me." I shrugged, turning to lean a hip on the pew. "Personally I'd sooner slit my own throat than be taken by the Qunari, but I can see why other elves might not feel the same, given how shit they're treated by everyone else."

I immediately realized I'd gone a bit too far when her eyes seemed to light up, a breathy excitement entering her voice. "You are against the Qun?"

I should have kept my mouth shut, or just given her a little nod. Unfortunately what little control I had over my tongue was completely gone in a haze of physical and magical exhaustion, and I gave her my honest opinion once again. "Anyone sane should be. In a perfect world they and the 'Vints would exterminate one another, and leave the rest of us better off for it. Maybe a few on each side aren't actually evil, but their cultures and systems certainly are."

Bull and Dorian were good people, mostly, but their homelands were exceptionally disgusting in a lot of ways.

A genuine smile creased her lips, that zealous glow not quite leaving her face. "I could not agree more. You have put to words things I have only thought of... oh, my sincere apologies. I did not get your name, serrah."

Sebastian's return saved me from having to answer. He and another sister appeared with bundles of blankets in their arms, small baskets filled with vials, a steamy bowl of soup, and water-skins atop them. Petrice quickly snapped out of anti-Qunari-zealot mode and back into medieval-medic mode, getting everything organized.

Gamlen was swiftly wrapped up in a thick blanket, then shifted to be in a seated position. She got him to drink a rejuvenation potion, then started gently spooning the soup into his mouth.

I'd never get used to just how good potions were in Thedas. They were more limited than the games made it seem, but still damned effective when used properly. His color seemed to improve by the minute after that, instead of taking hours or days. I really needed to get a good stash of those for myself, but the little vials were extremely expensive.

He still couldn't lift the spoon on his own, but he was awake and cognizant when the Grand Cleric led the others back over.

"Lord Amell." She greeted him. "It pains me to see you like this. I am told you were abducted from the very docks of the city."

"I was." He even sounded better, alive instead of half-dead. And bitterly angry. "How long have I been there? I tried to leave the same day I gave you all of the coin my sister sent to pay off my debts."

My ears twitched in interest. Finally. Information. Hawke's mother was apparently alive, and doing very well for herself somehow.

"That was five weeks ago." Elthina replied.

"...five weeks. Five weeks being tortured by foreign mages, and you Templars had no idea."

The last was clearly directed at Cullen, who closed his eyes, then gave Gamlen an overly formal bow. "I know what it means to be tortured by Maleficar, serrah. I will personally ensure my order makes amends to you. I will escort you all the way to Amaranthine myself, if need be."

"You'd better." Gamlen growled. "I am done with this city. Nothing good comes from it. I want a personal escort to my niece's holdings in Ferelden-"

I was lucky no one was looking at me, or they'd have seen me stagger in shock.

"-and I want the family estate's value in reparations." He paused, then added. "You can give a third of that to the elf and her friends for doing what you couldn't be bothered to."

I was still too busy reeling from the news that Hawke was still in Ferelden, and apparently had holdings, to appreciate his strangely charitable attitude. Or the fact that everyone seemed to be treating Gamlen far more seriously than I'd have expected for an extremely fallen noble. Just what the hell had Hawke become that they were so wary of pissing off her uncle? Or was this just a game and reality divergence, where even fallen nobles were treated better?

Dammit. Every time I got answers to questions I only ended up with more questions.

Elthina nodded at once. "Of course, Lord Amell. The Chantry will naturally take possession of the estate given what its owners did. The proceeds of its sale will be dispatched to you at once, I will personally sign a contract to that effect."

Gamlen wasn't in the mood to be gracious. "When do I leave?"

Cullen spoke again, "I shall inquire of a ship, serrah, this very night. I shall order my personal guard to keep you safe within the Grand Chantry until passage can be arranged."

There was another quiet grunt, then Gamlen let his head fall back in exhaustion. Petrice quickly checked his pulse again, drawing an annoyed grumble from him.

"...he is recovering, but needs rest." She reported. "Perhaps the Knight-Captain's guards and Brother Vael can bring him to a comfortable bed."

Elthina gave a permissive wave of her hand, and everyone began bustling about once more. I felt a bit of relief when Sebastian left without trying to talk to me; I'd hit my quota of meeting canon characters for a while. All I wanted to do was escape and fall asleep for a few days. I was just starting to slip away when Petrice tried to do the same; except she was clearly hoping to pull me aside.

"Sister Petrice," The Grand Cleric spoke just before she could approach, and before I could do more than have taken a few steps toward the exit. "Perhaps you should attend to your patient. I wish to speak with the Lady Maeve alone."

A meeting with the Grand Cleric. Alone.

Fuck.

"...Maeve." Petrice's lips barely moved around my name, then her voice rose. "Yes, of course, Grand Cleric. I merely wished to thank the Lady for her actions tonight. They served the Maker well."

The Grand Cleric looked... amused. "Of course, but do hurry my dear. It is growing late."

I sighed in irritation, I just wanted sleep dammit. My clear annoyance only seemed to make Petrice's smile widen as she approached.

"Do not fear, the Grand Cleric is just and wise." She held a hand out, "It was a pleasure, Lady Maeve. I dearly hope to speak with you again, on a great many things."

Not seeing a choice, I brought my hand up to hers. "I'm not a lady, but thanks. I guess."

Instead of shaking my hand, she gently took my fingers in hers, gave me an elaborate bow, and brought the back of knuckles to her lips. It wasn't just a peck either. She let them linger, making sure I felt her mouth on my skin for several seconds before she pulled them away.

I... just gaped at her.

"You will forgive my Orlesian manners, I hope." She grinned, giving my fingers a final squeeze before letting them go. "Good night, my lady. Until our next meeting."

"I... " The nutcase anti-Qunari priestess wasn't supposed to do things like that. And I wasn't supposed to blush and stammer after. "Uh... yeah. Night."

I kept gaping as she walked away, hips swaying far more than they needed to, because that seemed like a good way to express my complete and total confusion over what the night had turned into. I mean, what the hell had tonight turned into?

We'd gone in for a quick raid on slavers, and ended up with me being blatantly flirted with by a priestess I was pretty sure had been a lunatic in the game. Oh. And I'd found Gamlen Amell in there, discovered Hawke had done something to earn herself a title in Ferelden, and apparently now I was going to meet the woman with the most political power in Kirkwall.

Seriously. What in the actual fuck had I gotten myself into this time?

Brennan coming over and giving me a gentle nudge, then a harder one, finally shook me out of it.

"You have very strange taste in women." She muttered in my ear. "The Grand Cleric is waiting for you, go!"

Stumbling into motion, I shook my head a few times to try and clear it. It didn't really do anything, besides make me feel even more like an idiot than usual, but it kept me busy as I walked over to where Cullen and Elthina were waiting. Ser Thrask was lurking just a bit away, his encouraging nod doing more to help me calm down.

"Ser Thrask speaks extremely highly of you, Lady Maeve." The Grand Cleric opened the conversation as soon as I slowed to a stop near them. "He says that you have enabled the elves within the Alienage to protect themselves from abuse."

"Thrask is a good man." I did my absolute best to keep my mouth under control. It had already gotten me into one confusing situation tonight, I didn't need another. "And I'm not a lady."

Cullen chuckled. "He said you'd say that. He also said you'd be concerned that the Night Watch that you command isn't legal. That we'd arrest you, and raid the Alienage to seize every weapon we could find."

I grimaced. "He's not wrong about that either."

Elthina gave me a grandmotherly smile. "Be at ease. I would never act against those seeking to defend themselves from the predations of slavers. While I cannot condone a... raid on a noble estate in Hightown, I shall look the other way given what was found within."

"...thanks." I muttered, fidgeting my arms. I couldn't decide if I wanted them crossed or not, and eventually settled for putting my hands on my hips. "So what's this about, then?"

"Ser Thrask's proposal." She replied. "He has submitted a request to the Knight-Commander that a permanent Templar unit be created to work with the city's elven population, under his command. He would require a building be purchased near the Alienage for this reason."

"Yeah? And?"

Cullen's eyebrows rose at my impatient tone, but Elthina simply continued on. "He claims such a request was your idea."

I hesitated. "It... kind of was, yes. Is that a problem?"

"No." That patient smile remained in place. "I applaud such initiative. If only this city had more people in it who truly desired to bring peace to its streets. I certainly did not expect to find such a soul where we have, but that is a failing of my vision, not of your ideas."

I shifted my weight again. "All right, that's nice of you to admit, I guess. Still not sure why I'm still here though."

She let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, dear. You are exactly as Thrask said. You do speak your mind, no matter to whom you speak. You truly are not from this city, are you?"

"No." I admitted. "And I've got no fucking idea how to get home, so I'm doing the best I can while I'm here."

"Wise of you." She nodded, still smiling as if my cursing wasn't worth noticing. "Very well. I shall approve the funds that the Knight-Commander has requested. Rest assured that your Night Watch will not be hampered by the whims of prejudiced nobles. You shall have your Templar presence outside of your gates, and I am certain they will do well by you all."

"Thanks." I said again, then my mouth kept going without input from my brain. "What about the City Guard? They let Gamlen get abducted, and left the Alienage's gates wide open so 'Vints could march in to enslave us."

Her expression darkened for a brief moment, gone so quickly I wasn't sure if I imagined it or not.

"I will be taking tea with the Viscount and Knight-Commander tomorrow." She said, far more quietly. "The state of our city's Guard shall be... discussed. I bid you good evening, Lady Maeve."

"...sleep well, Grand Cleric. You look like you need it."

Elthina chuckled, turning away. "Such refreshing honesty."

Cullen escorted her back the way they'd come, giving me a final, amused look... and I was finally allowed to go home, and try and make sense of everything that had just happened.