Two more groups of Darkspawn intercepted us on the way to the Thaig. Fortunately Anders gave up on the deception, telling us exactly where they were coming from long before they actually arrived. Even better, both groups were much smaller than what we'd already run into; a trio of Genlocks in one, then a pair of them lurking about the entrance to the Thaig proper.

It was only after we'd killed them that the real battle lines were drawn up. All six of us slid into some kind of gatehouse just outside of the Thaig, bandannas coming off so that we could all glare at one another properly.

"All right." Varric said from his place near the entrance, Isabella standing beside him. "Rivaini? If anyone tries to go for their weapons, I want you to knock them over the head."

"Gladly." Isabella was the only one of us with steel still in her hands, her expression more than a little annoyed. "Honestly. Why is it this kind of thing always happens right before we reach the treasure?"

Anders glowered at being included. "I am not the one who hid that they were making deals with Demons."

Varric didn't look sympathetic. "No, but you did blurt it out at the worst possible time, while trying to keep the fact that you're a Warden secret from us. Something that would have been really nice to know before we went down into the Deep Roads."

From the way his weight shifted, Anders didn't really have a good counter for that. So he did what almost anyone else would do; he shifted the subject away from his own mistake, and toward ours. "I'd have admitted it if I'd felt Darkspawn coming for us, just like I warned you all before the door. And being a Warden is nothing like being a blood mage, or cutting deals with Demons!"

"I was stopping her from going after you," I snapped, unable to keep my mouth shut. "You prick."

His own stare was utterly patronizing. "I'm not some untrained, foreign mage who doesn't know how to recognize a demon when one has their tongue down her throat."

I felt my cheeks heat up at once, and made very certain not to look anywhere near Merrill. Or Isabella. "I know what I'm doing, Anders."

"Do you?" He shot back. "You told me what your people think of spirits and demons, and suddenly it makes sense. You're really are just that arrogant, thinking that a Demon is no more dangerous than a Spirit!"

Fenris joined him, though he looked uncomfortable about it. "As much as I dislike agreeing with the apostate, he has a point. His lying to us about being a Warden, and likely being a deserter, is a minor breach of trust compared to what those two have done. Especially the blood mage."

Merrill swallowed nervously, but stayed quiet when I patted her hand, apparently ready to let me do the talking. "And what, exactly, have we done Fenris? Yes, I cut a deal, because I was lashing out with uncontrolled magic all the damned time. I didn't want to, but my only other options were the Gallows or Tranquility, and I am not going to be some Templar's brain-dead fuck slave."

The s-word made him grimace, then glare at me. He knew I'd used it to try and get him to sympathize, and he wasn't having it. "And now we have no way of knowing what else you've lied about. I barely believed your story to begin with, and now I don't at all. How much of you is even left, now that you've let a Demon in?"

"She hasn't." Merrill spoke up, her own voice hot. "Those aren't the kind of deals that Longing makes. She-"

Anders choked, "Longing? That was Longing?"

My tether to the spirit in question vibrated with amusement, the sense of her growing closer as she listened through me. The self-absorbed bitch liked that we were talking about her.

I got a quick mental image of her shrugging, completely free in admitting it.

"Yes." I let out a frustrated breath. "That was Longing"

He gaped at me. "You made a deal with Eldest Desire?"

"Eldest Desire?" I blinked, then snorted. "Really Anders? Your information on Spirits is fucking terrible. She's not the oldest one of her kind, or even close to it. That's that asshole Ishmael, and I think one or two of the other old ones are Desires too."

"They are." Merrill confirmed. "She was very polite though, when I told her I wasn't going to make any deals with her. Honestly she spent most of the time complaining that Maeve was only trading little things, and that Longing didn't have any interest in becoming an abomination."

Fenris glowered some more. Merrill's defense not really helping, as I could have expected. "You only refused her because you already made a deal with another."

She flinched, but didn't deny it. "I needed his help, to cleanse a shard of an Eluvian from the Blight. I haven't spoken to him since then, and I don't plan to. I don't use it unless I absolutely have to."

"That's how it always starts." He sneered. "You may pretend to be something else, but you've revealed your true colors. You're both just as power-hungry as any other mages."

Merrill's eyes flashed with a rare anger. "I did what I did to save my clan. To give our people a chance to restore what we've lost. I was ready to die doing so, if that was the price. I will never, ever use another person's blood. And if I did... if I did, then I would know that Maeve would stop me."

I swallowed, fingers finding hers, both of us squeezing hard. "Don't make me do that."

Fenris didn't let us have a tender moment. "Your reassurances are meaningless. A fool of a blood mage and a fool of a witch. Your pairing makes far more sense now."

A long, tired groan came from Isabella. "If we're just going to sit around, trading insults, we can do that over drinks in Kirkwall."

"Rivani's right." Varric shook his head. "We've got to get back to Bartrand, and get this Thaig looted before more Darkspawn show up. So let's get this done with. Broody, I'm not asking you love either of them, but can you keep your mouth shut long enough for us to get home?"

More jaw clenching and growling followed, but he jerked his head in a quick nod. "Yes."

"And not turn them in to be executed by Meredith when we get there?" He asked, "I'm going to point out the fact that neither one of them has done anything that would deserve that. Maker's Balls, you and Buzz were getting real chummy when you were talking about killing slavers last week. She hasn't changed since then."

That was clearly a much harder ask, and I wasn't sure if the reminder of our mutual loathing of Tevinter helped or hurt my case.

"I... shall refrain," And holy hell it sounded like the words were being dragged kicking and screaming out of him. "But only until their foolish decisions catch up to them."

Varric grunted. "Good enough. Blondie?"

Anders had apparently recovered a little from my sponsor's revelation, his jaw working as he turned to stare at us both. "...I've seen the evils of possession and blood magic first hand. I don't think I'll ever trust either of them again, but you and Isabella are right. This isn't the time or place for us to fight among ourselves."

"Meaning?" Varric asked.

"I won't turn anyone in to the Templars, you know that." He sighed. "But... Maeve, if you answer me one question, honestly, then I'll drop it for now."

I clenched my jaw tightly, jerking my head in a nod.

"What deals have you struck with Longing?"

"I..." I took a deep breath, pushing it out with my words. Forcing myself to tell truths I'd hoped to keep buried forever. "She gave me my rudimentary magical training, like I said. Actual teaching, not instant information into my head, I insisted on that to cut down on her hold on me. I had to cut a second deal to survive in the Fade. The Nightmare found me during a lucid dream."

That made him flinch. Apparently he knew that name too. Proof that the local mages knew the names of spirits, even if they had a shitty understanding of what they were. I blamed the Chantry for that.

"It did?" He asked.

My voice turned bitter, even as Merrill gave my fingers a supporting squeeze. "Yeah. According to Longing, my soul is tastier than most. I'm foreign to the local spirits, and just enough of a Dreamer to be exotic. He trapped me in a nightmare and was taking bites out of my soul when I called Longing to protect me."

"And she did?"

"Sort of. She's not at the Nightmare's level, so she cheated by helping me super-power my Dream-catcher. It will keep everything except for her out, now, even the Elder ones." I shook my head, "In exchange she gets to send me dreams, talk to me in the Fade when I'm lucid, and feed on my longing for home. Deal is due to expire as soon as I find a way to power the catcher up to that level without her."

"I see." He frowned. "Your offer about your Dream-catchers, was that true? Will they work without a Demon powering them?"

"Yeah, they still work, they just... can't keep out the heavyweights like the Nightmare." I admitted. "And spirits at Longing's level could still talk through it, even if she couldn't actually approach. It's still better than nothing, and less detectable by the Templars."

Anders huffed. "I suppose. What about the last time, when I saw you kissing her?"

That damned heat rose to my cheeks and ears again. "We were finishing the deal that would have kept her away from you and Merrill for several months. That's how she does that."

"What did you give her?" He demanded.

"Memories of home. About a week's worth."

His eyes narrowed, as if he thought he'd just caught me in a lie. "I see."

I narrowed mine right back at him. "What?"

"...nothing." He said after a long moment. "I'll drop it, and the Templars won't hear of you from me. You have my word as a free mage."

In the moment, that was good enough I supposed. But I don't think anyone missed the fact that several tentative friendships had just gone down in flames. Only time would tell if we'd manage to put anything back together in the aftermath... but from the way Fenris stalked out, and Anders gave Merrill and I a wide berth when he left, I wasn't very hopeful.

I wasn't Hawke. I wasn't a player character, with the raw charisma to keep everyone united.

I was just me. A foul mouthed girl from Pennsylvania, trapped in a world I didn't want to be in. Stuck playing by rules that I hated, making deals I really shouldn't just to try and survive a bit longer. To get one day closer to when a grumpy, old, bald god might, might, send me home.

"You all right, Buzz?"

Varric's words made me realize I'd been staring at the floor. Scowling at it, really. Ignorant of the fact that Merrill was trying to nudge me toward the exit.

"No." I muttered, speaking with full honesty for once. "No I'm not, but there's nothing I can do about it. Let's get back to Bartrand and get this over with."

"It'll work out. A few drinks and everything will be smooth over."

I wasn't in the mood for his reassurances, but a sharp squeeze on my wrist from Merrill made me snap my mouth shut over anything stupid I could have said. Proof that she knew me damned well by that point, I supposed.

Yanking my bandanna back on gave me something to do with my hands, everyone else doing the same. Everyone but Anders at least, which made sense. He couldn't catch the Blight, and took over from Fenris on point when we started our way back.

Our living Darkspawn detector didn't pick up anything on his radar. The only living thing was saw was a cave-spider that probably weighed nearly as much as I did, bundling up one of the Darkspawn we'd killed in webbing. It chattered furiously at us when we approached, using its fore-limbs to roll its meal down into the side-tunnel it had squeezed its way out of.

"Schwert." I growled, waving an arm toward it before it could escape. My magic rippled out with the feel of wind on my cheeks and blood in my mouth. Blue sparks yanked a Genlock's sword from its dead hands, sending the blade flashing through the air.

Guided by my will, it slammed into the spider's head hard enough that the hilt put out two of its eyes, the beast's eight limbs curling around its body instantly.

"I hate those things." I complained as we picked our way past dead Darkspawn group number three, strolling back toward the bridge where this whole mess had gotten started.

"Everyone does." Merrill assured me. "At least you got to use your new spell. Did it work all right? It felt like it worked all right."

"It worked fine." I wasn't about to tell her what it tasted like when I cast it. Not when Fenris and Anders were just a few yards ahead. "I need to get better about casting first though. I keep forgetting I'm a mage when I don't have time to think. Keep reacting with my sword instead."

That drew Isabella into the conversation, sauntering up on my other side. "So it really happened like that? Just, poof, one day you woke up a mage?"

"Yup."

She shook her head, "What is it like? Every mage I've ever asked says they can't remember the difference, but you must."

"It's... not fun." I admitted. "I wasn't exactly thrilled the first time I got angry and made a cup explode. It was like... waking up one morning and realizing you're bear-hugging a wild animal. You know that letting it go is going to make bad things happen to everyone around you, but eventually its claws are going to tear you apart."

Isabella winced above her mask. "Ah. But you've got it now? Your demon lover helped?"

"She's not my lover. I'm not that stupid." I grumbled. "She's more like a pushy salesman who convinced me to buy a new knife, but refused to leave my house afterword. And now she's trying to sell me another knife and a sword on top of it."

Merrill giggled. "Oh dear. That really is what they're like, isn't it?"

A tiny smile was hidden the red cloth over my lips. "Yeah. And the fact that I didn't get the sixth-sense to feel it really doesn't help. I can... ugh. It's hard to describe. When anyone casts a spell around me, I get to feel it, hear it, smell it, taste it, and see it. All at the same time."

"Huh." Isabella said, in the tones people used when they didn't really understand. "How do you manage that?"

"Badly." I jerked my head toward Merrill, "I'm used to her spells, mostly. And I can tune out mine. But you saw what that Lyrium did to me. It was... ugh. I couldn't see anything but white, and the song it was playing made my head feel like it was going to explode."

Fenris grunted without turning around. "We would have been so lucky."

"...fuck you too." I muttered, losing all of my enthusiasm for talking about magic.

Isabella thankfully noticed, muttering something under her breath before speeding up to join Fenris. She flicked the side of his head, snapping something in Tevene that made him instantly reply in kind.

The two fell into some kind of tense argument that nobody else could follow, which didn't really improve anyone's moods. Not even the surprised and delighted calls going out that we were still alive when we got back to the Expedition did anything to help our collective state of mind.

"You found a route?" Bartrand shoved his way through the excited men and women, striding right up to his brother. "You better have found a way there!"

"Ease up, would you?" Varric batted Batrand's hands away when his brother tried to grab him by the coat. "We've got a path, but it's narrow. We can't take the brontos, and we'll need people to watch the side-tunnels for more Darkspawn."

Bartrand waved dismissively, eyes alight with greed. "The scouts will handle it. We'll split up, half the group will stay here with the beasts, everyone else will help haul the loot back."

Any hope we had of a real break for rest died when he promptly started bellowing out names. We lingered off to the side, gulping down water and generally staying in our new cliques; me and Merrill to one side, Varric and Isabella in the middle, Fenris glaring at us from a yard away from them, and Anders not looking at anyone else to a bit past him.

We got to rest for the ten or fifteen minutes it took Bartrand to get things organized, then we were off to escort him to the Thaig. A procession of thirty or so laborers and scouts followed right behind us, along with the thugs acting as Bartrand's 'bodyguards'. Their own enthusiasm spiked when we set off, and then plummeted when we came across the Darkspawn we'd killed at the door.

A couple turned around right there, refusing to get too close to the bodies. The others hustled by as quickly as they could, a few seemingly holding their breath the entire time.

I didn't think that would really help, but I didn't see the point in telling them that. It would just lead to another argument that I didn't have the bandwidth for.

Bartrand, typically, didn't even seem to notice. He just bulled straight forward, forcing everyone else to keep up with him as he turned the key over in his hands. It wasn't until we reached the massive doors of the Thaig itself that his focus wavered, and something close to awe covered his face.

"By the Stone..."

Varric gave him a gentle nudge, "Let's get it open, brother."

The other dwarf shook himself once. Rather than say anything, he marched up the short steps and slid the key into the slot. In spite of everything, I felt myself hold my breath when he turned it, wondering if it would unlock or leave us with nothing to show for all of this.

Heavy clicks and a relieved slump of Bartrand's shoulders told me I'd been wrong to worry.

A gentle push was all it took to make the great doors swing open... and a collective gasp rang out at the sight the greeted us.

I don't really remember what the Thaig was like in the game itself. What I do remember was that it couldn't possibly have looked anything like what we found on the other side.

It was... incredible.

We all slowly walked inside, mouths open, heads on swivels as we tried to look everywhere at once. Our feet carried us along a great ledge overlooking several lower tiers, decorated with enormous statues of Dwarves. Some were armed with staves, others with axes, and more yet with hammers. All had gold, silver, and jewels worked into the stone to display the fabulous wealth of a long-dead people.

From somewhere high above water was trailing down in a perfect waterfall, filling an aqueduct that ran in a great circle around the central chamber. The quiet rustling of the rushing liquid was the only sound to greet us; a quick look over the side letting me see that the water being carried out by pipes in the walls. Some kind of ancient drain still working despite centuries of neglect.

And...

...and everything was glowing a dull scarlet, from the Red Lyrium that had been laid out in perfectly straight lines along the walls.

My breath hitched for a moment, until I realized I wasn't hearing singing. It wasn't glowing any more brightly than the processed lyrium I'd seen in vials back in Kirkwall, even to my magical senses. It was a glorified nightlight, nothing more.

A nightlight that could corrupt us all, if we were stupid.

"... right!" Bartran's shout made half the workers jump before they could start to drift away to try and sneak some treasure into their pockets, "Let's get to work you damned Blighters! I want each of those statues stripped down right now! Scouts! Get back and make sure there's no Darkspawn on the route. Varric? There's supposed to be some kind of vault! Find it, inventory it, and call me so we can start figuring out the shares!"

So he could lock us in the vault if he thought he could get away with it. I swallowed, trying to push aside everything else that had happened. To forget the Darkspawn, the Red Lyrium, the admission to everyone that I'd cut deals with Spirits.

I'd come to the unhappy conclusion that I couldn't kill Bartrand. Not with Varric right next to me... but I could stop him from locking us in, and reveal his treachery to his brother. I wasn't sure what Varric would do, to be honest, but it'd be better than being locked down here and having to find our own way out.

Especially if he let me gag Bartrand to shut him up. And maybe punch him once or twice, just to help me feel better.

"Right." Varric waved for all of us to follow, "Let's find the real prize, then plan our way back home."

Isabella had the quickest eyes, "That door, you think?"

We all followed where she pointed, finding a massive door on the far side of the chamber. It was covered in even more Red Lyrium than the walls, all done up in some kind geometric design. A pair of bizarre columns were planted out in front of it. Crooked, almost melted, and very much not matching the rest of the décor.

"Probably." Varric set off, "Let's go check."

The walk around the Thaig gave us a bit of time to come down from the greedy high most of us had gotten from walking in. Sure, there was still a lot of wealth on display, but...

"...I've never seen lyrium glow red like that." Anders muttered, looking nervously at the wall we were following. "What did they do when they processed it?"

"Not sure I want to know." I said, keeping well away from it myself. "I don't think I want to know what those melted statues are about either."

He glanced at one as we passed it. "Magic was responsible for that. I'm certain of it."

Varric shook his head, sounding uncomfortable. "Dwarves don't have magic, never have. Must have been Darkspawn."

"In a sealed Thaig?" I asked skeptically.

"...Tevinter?" He tried again.

Fenris glanced around, "It's possible. The Imperium of old was closely allied with the Dwarven kingdoms through to the end of the First Blight, and are still respected to this day. There have been rough patches however. Perhaps this was the site of a disagreement between the Dwarves and Magisters."

"Maybe." It didn't sound right, but then I still had no real idea what Red Lyrium really was. Beyond having the blight or something. I cursed whatever fate had brought me here before Dread Wolf had released, then cursed it again for bringing me here at all. "This place is unsettling. Let's just find as much gold as we can carry and get out of here."

"That's my girl." Isabella murmured, her usual cheer completely absent.

We all picked up the pace after that. Not quite jogging, but definitely walking as quickly as we could until we got to the vault doors. Varric glanced at me when we arrived, a little wave of his hand telling me that he wanted me to try and take command again.

I grimaced, but couldn't refuse him. "Anders? Anything inside?"

He gave me a short look, but thankfully stuck by his earlier word. He didn't say anything hot, he just turned to stare at the massive gate of steel and stone. "...I don't sense any Darkspawn, but... there might be lyrium inside. There's a muted hum. Maeve?"

Frowning at him, I glanced at the doors myself. When I didn't hear anything, I closed my eyes and focused a bit harder on my ears.

"...silence." I admitted after a moment. "Merrill?"

She shook her head at once. "I can't feel anything either."

Fenris grunted, "Can a Darkspawn disguise itself?"

"Not that I know of, but there weren't any true senior wardens left to teach me when I joined. It could be possible." Anders admitted.

I licked my lips, then spoke again, "Our usual combat formation then, with barriers up to be safe."

To my surprise neither Fenris nor Anders argued with me about it. That was good. It gave me the perfect excuse to have my spell up on the off chance that the lyrium idol hit me like the raw lyrium vein had. The two men did exchange one look that saw the Gray Warden place a barrier around the elf before Merrill and I could, something that made me roll my eyes a little.

Who knew that all it took for Fenris and Anders to get along was the latter not being an abomination?

Well, that as probably unfair. I didn't think Fenris especially liked him all that much, Anders was still a mage after all. He was just the lesser evil given his other options. And, for as much as Fenris hated mages, he wasn't the kind of idiot who would turn down an advantage like a free Barrier in a fight if one was offered.

Merrill quickly shielded Isabella, leaving me to pull my own protection spell over myself. Then she backed off, moving to stand next to Varric a bit to the rear while I carefully checked over the vault doors. To my surprise it didn't have a key hole on this side, just a series of heavy dead bolts much like the one on the first door.

"...and they don't match this door." I frowned, reaching up to inspect the first with my fingers. It was dull iron, and even I could tell it had been crudely cast. Nothing like the ridiculous veins of gold inlaid alongside the lines of Red Lyrium. "These were added later, boss."

"...I think so too. Be careful opening that."

I didn't need his encouragement. My hands moved very slowly, sliding that first bolt over as slowly as I could. Then a second. Everyone got their weapons settled again when I reached for the third, gently pulling it over.

No Darkspawn came barreling through when it clicked against the stop. Or when I gave the doors a gentle push that sent them swinging open as if they hadn't been made of nearly solid stone. On the other side... well, that matched my memories a little better.

It was mostly open space, with grand pillars holding up the ceiling. At the far end there was a broad stairwell, complete with an altar atop which a glowing object was resting.

What the game had missed was the fact that this wasn't a Vault.

It was an Armory.

An Armory filled with Red Lyrium.

Swords, axes, hammers, staves... all of them looking as if they'd been made purely of the blighted stuff lined the walls. All were just as dull as the veins in the walls, but there were so many of them that the entire chamber was bathed in red light.

"...creepy." Isabella murmured, taking a few cautious steps inside. When no trap was sprung, she moved in more confidently, Fenris and I keeping pace. "Where's the gold? The silver?"

"Outside, apparently." Fenris replied. "How much would weapons of lyrium sell for?"

The pirate shrugged, "As much as their weight in Lyrium, I suspect. I can't imagine anyone wielding them, so they'd just melt them down and sell them to Templars or mages. Maybe we can drive up the prices a bit for it being a different color? Not sure it'll be safe for us to handle though."

"Best not to." Anders called as he came in behind us. "I think only Varric should touch any of it."

Varric grumbled, strolling in as well. "Thanks for that, Blondie. You hear any Darkspawn?"

"No, that hum is gone as well. It ended the moment we opened the door."

"Creepy." Varric echoed. "Maeve?"

I could only shrug, and was about to reply when Bartrand surprised us all by appearing in the doorway. "Well? What did you find?"

"Weird shit."

Bartrand glanced around, scowling. "I noticed. Get whatever's on that altar, then check the back rooms for more gold and gems."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved dismissively at his brother. "Maeve?"

He probably meant for me to lead people toward the small door in the back, but I saw my chance, and I took it. "Fenris, take Isabella and Anders and check the back door. Merrill? Keep an eye on Varric. Make sure whatever's up there isn't poisoned or something. I'll check the weapons, see if there's anything that isn't made of lyrium that we could grab."

That time I got some push-back from Fenris, "Too good to search the back rooms, mage?"

"Yeah. That's me. Totally lazy." I scowled at him, "Just check would you? This place is creeping me out, and I want to get back to sunlight soonest."

His follow-up grumble was cut off by another flick to his head from Isabella. Everyone set off, leaving me free to linger near the door as Bartrand trotted up to catch the idol when Varric tossed it to him.

After that, Bartrand moved exactly as according to the script. He said something to Varric that had him keep poking around the altar, and started moving briskly toward the doors. I, just as quickly, moved from my place nearer to the wall to intercept him before he could make it out.

He saw me coming, a quick scowl coming and going so quickly it was easy to think I'd imagined it. Well, it would have been if I hadn't known both the game and Bartrand as a person.

"A real treasure, isn't it?" Batrand forced a grin, holding the idol up into my face. "Real artwork this."

I scowled, and brought a gloved hand up to shove it away. "Yeah. Demented art. What are you-"

My fingers touched the idol.

The barrier I'd been holding over myself shattered.

My tether to Longing snapped.

A woman began screaming at the top of her lungs.

...when I ran out of breath, I realized that it was me.

Sightless eyes rolled into the back of my head...

...and when I fell, it was nothing but the relief of oblivion.