Chapter 8

The Enchantress and the Iron Bull

I wondered if I should put a TW in this chapter before and I was told not to at the time by my original editors. While this violence that occurs is a bit, to put it mildly, please be noted that violence will go up, including body horror etc.

Song featured in this is March of Cambreadth from Keepers of the Flame album by Phoenyx

Eruno is just full of memes. I love that adorable squirrel girl

Thedas. The Emerald Graves. 9:22 Dragon. Nineteen years ago.

Quen's mother always wore leather arm-sleeves. The thin strips were woven in a criss-cross section, overlapping one another. Sometimes Laisa would let her son run his fingers over the lines, his blue eyes tracing the pattern with a fixated fascination.

It was around this time he had begun to wonder why she wore them. That day, his mother was left in the tent, recovering from an illness from the night before from one of her seizures. His father took Quen along with him while doing duties as First for the clan. Quen was holding Haleir's hand as the two made their way back to their tent at the end of the day, the young elf boy clutching a wooden wolf toy to his chest.

Earlier that day, his father had shown Quen how to carve the magnificent creature out of a piece of bark during their lunch. Quen was excited to show his mother the toy. Perhaps it would help her feel better.

As they neared the tent, Quen picked up sounds of sobbing from within. Immediately, his father let go of his hand and ran toward the canvas, Quen following after Haleir quickly. As he peered around his father's legs, he gasped at the sight before him.

Crimson soaked the deer hide around Laisa's folded legs. Her hair was undone from its braid, matting together with the blood on her wrists. With each cry, she stabbed the knife used for collecting herbs into her arms.

Haleir flung himself at his wife, grabbing the hand with the knife in it. "No!" Laisa protested, her eyes glazed over in another one of her fits, unable to recognize her current surroundings. "Let me DIE!" She wailed. The soaked blade fell from her fingers onto the floor, which Quen's father quickly kicked out of his mother's reach.

"Laisa-" Haleir started.

"I CAN'T!" She screamed, cutting her husband off. "I can't handle this! If I play out the fate set for me, THEY will suffer! YOU will suffer!" As she thrashed in Haleir's arms, ribbons of blood splattered against the inside of the tent. The heavy streaks dripped blood like tears..

Quen watched helplessly; he was only a child. What could he do to stop his mother who was in such pain? The way she violently struggled against his father, Quen was too small to try to physically hold her back lest she hurt herself more. He had learned the hard way in the past, having received bruises before in his attempts to help her. The rest of the clan gave up trying to help when these fits happened. They ignored Quen when he had run up to them for aid. They didn't care.

He was too small, too weak, too inexperienced. What could he do?

Suddenly, his mother froze in her struggle in Haleir's arms before breaking down, weeping heavily. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... All of you — because of me…" She choked out another cry. "Why? Why does fate have to be this way? Why does this have to happen…?" Hanging her head finally, the sniveling began to cease.

"... Laisa? Vhenan?" Haleir tried again to his wife, using the elvhen term of endearment for her.

Quen's mother lifted her head, blinking away the tears. The hazy glaze across her eyes was gone. "Dear?" She whispered. "What happened? Why-Oh." Wincing, she then noticed the cuts all over her arms. "I did it again didn't I?" The smile on her face was forced.

Haleir nodded while brushing away the messy strands of hair from her face. "Do you remember anything, Vhenan?" His hands then began to glow as he carefully healed the new wounds against the rest of the other scars on her arms.

Laisa blinked once more slowly. "No... I cannot... I'm sorry." Looking over her husband's shoulder, she noticed Quen and reached out to him with her healed arm. "Quen my child…"

Quen immediately rushed into his mother and father's embrace, the wolf carving forgotten on the ground at the entrance of the tent.

He was scared.

Scared of the strange fits that constantly plagued his mother.

Scared that he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Scared of not being able to understand his mother's words.

Scared of being helpless against it all.

Quen's mother always wore the leather arm-sleeves to hide the scars.

Present

The next day, back at the Inquisition Val Royeaux branch in the lodging quarters, true to Eirai's word, Sera hit it off well with Eruno; Varric also had quite a time amusing the two young females, much to Cassandra's chagrin. The number of times Cassandra made a disgusted noise in response to the endless chatter, laughs, and crude language made Quen wonder how much money Varric would make if the dwarf earned a silver every time the Seeker made her trademark sound.

As Sera got to know the Fae sisters more (though Zyllian didn't seem to want to socialize at all, to which Sera commented at how much of a downer the Reaper was), a messenger arrived at the Inquisition Val Royeaux headquarters with a letter around lunch time. The envelope the letter was made of silken parchment and sealed with high-quality wax with a nobleman crest engraved in the seal. The penmanship was written in a fanciful manner.

To the Representatives of the Inquisition,

You are cordially invited to attend my salon at the Chateau of Duke Bastien de Ghislain.

Yours, Vivienne de Fer

First Enchanter of Montsimmard

Enchanter to the Orlesian Imperial Court

The Lady Vivienne was a mage and personal enchanter and adviser to Empress Celene, ruler of Orlais. Duke Bastien had made her his mistress, helping her to gain a popular status amongst the royal court. Although many mages had become apostates after the Mage-Templar war began, some were loyalists who did not revolt; they stayed behind under scrutiny of the Chantry and the Templar Order. Madame de Fer was one of such mages.

Sera immediately turned her nose up at the invitation. "Those places are filled with fancy rich hot-shots. You can go to the place for your Inquisitor business, but I'm going to stay here." She waved her hand while kicking her legs back on Eruno's bed where she was playing cards with the young Elin.

"While I do not attend many parties," Cassandra turned the letter over in her hands. "I believe this is not as fancy, so there is no requirement to wear overly formal wear." She glanced at Quen. "Obviously we should not dress casually, especially if there are a few nobles who are interested in sponsoring the Inquisition."

"It did not invite all of us, correct?" Eirai examined her arrows. "Then some of you can stay behind. As a party involving potential donors and allies, we want to give a good first impression to stave off any rumors that have come about from our presence in this city."

Quen awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "My clan has done trade and sometimes meetings were tense. But I've never been to a party for nobles before. I have to go because people see me as the head of the Inquisition." He let out a sad sigh.

The rabbit Elin smiled at him. "Don't worry Quen. I know my way around fancy parties. Cassandra has had some experience too."

"Though I will say Leliana and Josephine are more skilled in such expertise." Cassandra leaned against the wall. "As I said though, this is not a very formal event, so there isn't as much pressure. It's good practice for any future occasions anyway, should the Inquisition be invited to such gatherings by any diplomats."

"Who would have thought an elf like me from a small clan that wanders the forests and plains would be invited to a fancy party." Quen sighed.

"Heh," Varric chuckled aloud. "Frosty, you'd be surprised. The Heroes of Ferelden from the Fifth Blight came from different backgrounds, and then one of them was a city elf."

Quen remembered that elf. He was one of the Grey Wardens who visited his father's clan.

"Not to mention," the dwarf continued. "My good friend Hawke was an apostate. He used to be on the run a lot and then he became Champion of Kirkwall. Quite a feat, that man. Took him a bit to get used to the feeling as well." He reached up to pat Quen on the back. "You'll be fine Frosty. Lady Seeker and Rosy know what they're doing."

Eruno leaned backwards until her torso was hanging off the bed. "So, what does this mean for the rest of us?"

"Well, who wants to come along I guess?" Quen looked to the group who had gathered in the room. "It's only for dinner and we'll be back later tonight."

The squirrel Elin was tempted to raise her hand but held back since she wanted to talk with Sera more. The spunky elf obviously was out.

Varric had his fair share of such experiences, but declined, deciding to stay behind to chaperone Eruno and Sera to make sure they wouldn't get into mischief. Both Eirai and Cassandra were grateful for Varric's volunteering. Solas wanted to study some things (exactly what, he didn't specify), so he backed out. It was obvious that he wasn't one for such big social gatherings.

Zyllian didn't say anything and instead just walked away, to which Eirai sighed. Erune looked in the direction her older sister walked away to, a worried look on her face. Quen could tell the young Elin wanted to follow Zyllian, but was conflicted. The Reaper Elin seemed to be closed off to everyone, even her own sisters. Erune worried her bottom lip before turning to Quen and smiling at him gently. "I—I guess I don't mind going with you guys."

xoxoxo

"Master Quen Lavellan, Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, and Ladies Eirai and Erune Fae on behalf of the Inquisition!" The announcer read aloud to the salon.

The room was massive, with marbled stairs on each side lined with stone carved rosettes on their banisters. Under the terrace was a bubbling fountain, water spewing from the mouths of gargoyles. Statues of armor surrounded the room, each posed in a heroic manner, and an impressive assortment of weapons in each of their gauntleted hands. Light shone through from the open windows from the moon and the light of the city. The rest of the mansion flickered warmly with an orange glow from candles and torches on the walls and chandeliers that contrasted against the dark blue shadows from the night. It was a well-kept mansion, not a speck of dust in sight.

The moment the four were announced, a few of the chattering nobles ceased in their gossip and looked over at the entrance. Amidst the bubbling glasses of champagne and wine, painted fans, and lacy gloves, whispering began, mostly over the Elin's animal features.

One of the fancy noblemen walked over to them and made a bow. "A pleasure Sers. We rarely have a chance to meet anyone new. It is always the same crowd at these parties. And I must say," He gestured to Erune and Eirai. "You two are the most unique. Are you all guests of Madame de Fer, or are you here for Duke Bastien?"

A woman shuffled over to them. "Are you here on business? I have heard the most curious tales of you and the Elins. I cannot imagine half of them are true."

Some of these nobles decided to come over to investigate instead of hiding behind their perfumes and masks. Not all of them acted as pompous and racist to Quen, in fact, even though he was an elf.

"Exactly what are these rumors?" Eirai decided to ask, standing by Quen's side.

"Some say that when the veil opened, Andraste herself delivered you from the Fade. As well as the little Elin women." The woman laughed fondly as she looked Erune up and down. "Some said you were demons, but now that Jerome and I have seen some of you, you look like normal people. Minus the vivid and brightly colored hair and your animal ears."

"Well, I can assure you, those idle gossips are merely just rumors. These animal features are merely just what our race from another land has. Similar to how elves have pointed ears, your dwarves are very short, and the Qunari are said to have horns and darkened, grayish skin."

"Even so, the Game is quite a dangerous place where you are all talked about. It has crushed far more powerful institutions than your Inquisition."

The Grand Game. It wasn't an actual game (not was it referring to hunting), but more in a metaphorical sense that surrounded the courts of nobles and politics. Play it right and you find yourself with many allies. Play it poorly and you may find yourself with a knife in the back or choking from poison in your drink. It was a playing field of courtesy, flattery, bribery, deceit, and grifting. A game of wits in the world of politics.

Haughty laughter was suddenly heard from the top of the stairs. "The Inquisition? What a load of pig shit!" A young nobleman Shemlan barked aloud. Descending the stairs, he stormed over to Quen and the Elins. "Washed up sisters, crazed Seekers, a knife-ear, and foreigners? No one can take them seriously. Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power. Using foreigners is another ploy to bring down Thedas!"

Erune cowered behind Quen as the shem came closer with his accusatory words. Quen's eyes narrowed, his hand moving to shield her. Eirai's face did not change, but she closely watched the shem, who had a rapier very visible by his side.

"What's your point?" Quen's hand curled into a fist. Erune, sensing his growing anger, put her hand on his arm.

"Me?" The Shemlan scoffed. With a deft hand, he whipped out his rapier, thrusting the tip towards Quen. A chorus of shocked gasps from the rest of the party patrons. "In front of all of these people, I want you to admit to being a pretentious usurper! We know what your Inquisition truly is!" A confident grin drew across his face. "If you are a man of honor, you'd step outside and answer the charges!"

Quen was about to reach back for his hidden throwing knives to teach this shem a lesson when he felt the temperature in the air grow cold. A cold mist suddenly surrounded the sword-wielding Shemlan, covering him in a thick layer of ice, immobilizing the movement of his limbs, but leaving his mouth still mobile to question aloud in alarm as to who would dare use magic against him.

"My dear Marquis," An eloquent voice was overheard. "How unkind of you to use such language in my house...to my guests."

Gliding down the stairs was a dark-skinned Orlesian mage with a white hat shaped like horns pointing upward. Her hand glowed with the same ice power that disabled the Shemlan noble before Quen. "You know such rudeness is... intolerable." Her silver-tongued words had a hidden bite to it.

As Quen watched this woman circle the frozen shem, he noticed her eyes glance at him for just a moment under her ornate silver mask. Those dark brown eyes were watchful, calculating.

"M-madame Vivienne!" The cold-blue and dry chapped lips stuttered from the Marquis. "I-I humbly b-beg your pardon!"

Calmly, Madame de Fer turned back to the poor, frozen shem and circled around him once more. "You should. I must say, many have been quite bothered by your outbursts lately. Even your darling aunt had said she is done cleaning up after your messes. If news about such an unfortunate fate befell you as a consequence of all the bad reputation you have been gaining as of late, she mentioned she is not going to even attempt to find justice for you." With those words, the Shemlan audibly gulped. "Honestly darling, whatever am I going to do with you?"

The First Enchanter held a presence that captivated the entire room. She was obviously a cunning woman who commanded respect. Definitely one of those who knew how to play the game of the courts well. Quen would have to work to stay in her good graces it seemed.

"My Lord and Ladies," Vivienne was now addressing Quen and his companions. "You are the wounded parties in this unfortunate affair. Shall I deal with him for you or...?" She glanced at Quen, her eyes watching him intently behind the fancy Orlesian mask.

With one flick of her wrist, the frozen noble would die. Such was the way of the nobility, another death where the victim had gotten too carried away. Should the arrogant Shemlan die, very little would mourn or take action. As the Enchantress had said, he had become quite an annoyance as of late and his death would have been something he brought upon himself. No one would miss him and no scandal would be about. He had it coming.

"I think he's been humiliated enough." Quen scoffed, an amused look in his eyes as he looked at the frozen noble from head to toe. Killing him would have no purpose but to establish a point that the elf, 'Andraste's Herald', was a cold and jaded killer. Even if he wasn't the one to end the man's life, people would see Quen as a ruthless person-which would solidify their demeaning of elves.

He wasn't like that though. Those who died by his hand deserved it. The idiotic and foolish nobleman wasn't even worth his time. Had Madame de Fer not intervened, Quen was simply going to knock the thin sword out of the shem's hand with one of his throwing knives (if the knife lodged itself into the shem's hand wasn't Quen concern; he had enough of pompous nobles from this city).

Vivienne gave him a coy smile. "Very well. By the Grace of Andraste, you have your life, my dear. Do be more careful with it." The gathering cold mist around her palm diminished, the same mist leaving the Marquis. He stumbled backwards as soon as he was released. Ignoring his abandoned rapier, he turned tail and ran past the party patrons and out the door.

"Now then, I am delighted that some of you could attend this little gathering. I've so wanted to meet you. Please, do enjoy yourselves at the festivities." She waved her hand around to welcome the four. "We can talk about business when you are ready."

"Well," Quen relaxed and looked at Cassandra and Eirai. "I think we're ready to discuss things now."

"Of course," Vivienne directed the four to a set of lounge couches by the window. "Kamala," She called out to an elvhen servant. "Would you mind fetching us some glasses of champagne?"

Just as the servant nodded to leave, Erune tried to speak up. "O-oh um! May I have some juice instead please?" A sheepish look was on her face. "I don't drink…"

"That's quite alright my dear. We can easily accommodate such a request." Erune flushed under Vivienne's gaze, tucking her head down to avoid eye contact as she shuffled closer to Quen on the couch. "Allow me to properly introduce myself," The dark-skinned woman continued. "I am Vivienne. First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."

Eirai nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She then introduced herself, Quen, Erune, and Cassandra to Vivienne.

Vivienne nodded. "Pleasantries aside, there are more important matters to discuss. With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people. As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it is only right that I lend my assistance to your cause." The servant returned with the tall glasses of bubbling alcohol and a simple glass of juice.

Cassandra took a glass and swirled her champagne for a moment. "What services would you be able to offer to the Inquisition?" She asked. Even if Quen was the one seen as the head, the Lady Seeker was the one helping run their organization, so she was often the one who wanted to ask such questions.

Vivienne smiled as she sipped her glass. "I've heard you require allies from high and low. I am well versed in the politics of the Orlesian Empire. I know every member of the Imperial Court personally. I have all the resources remaining to the Mage Circle at my disposal. And I am a mage of no small talent. Will that do?"

"You certainly speak highly of yourself, Madame de Fer." Eirai pointed out aloud.

"Why of course." Vivienne looked at the older Elin with a keen look. "Being humble can only get you so far into the world of The Game. One must be strong in the nest of vipers. Arrogance of power will only lead to folly like the Marquis who harassed you all earlier."

"And a mage such as yourself should not be seen as a wallflower, lest you harbor the danger of being taken advantage of," Eirai replied back.

The Orlesian Enchantress's smile grew even more. "You are from another world, as they say, correct? For a foreigner, you are quite experienced with The Game."

Eirai shrugged. "I've had my share of work that the Inquisition's Spymaster does from where I come from. While there is nothing called The Game there, I am familiar with such similar interactions with others. I don't usually participate in court affairs, but I know what to do when I'm put in such a situation."

Quen watched the two quietly, not wanting to interrupt what he observed as a challenging match of two experienced experts testing one another.

Vivienne finished her champagne before speaking again. "I am impressed." She then looked at Quen. "Quen Lavellan was it? The Maker truly has blessed you well with such adept allies. What do you say to add one more?"

The elf sat up straighter on the couch. He glanced at Cassandra and Eirai, both who gave him a nod of their approval. He then brought his attention back to Vivienne, his choice clear.

xoxoxo

The moment Quen, Erune, Cassandra, and Eirai returned to the Inquisition Orlesian office, they were met with quite a scene. Flour was everywhere. On the walls, on the ceiling, and on the floor (with phallic artistry and bees traced in the flour itself). A pungent smell of sugar, both fresh and burnt, was mixed in the air with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg (and was that the smell of pepper as well?). The main room looked like a cooking disaster.

"Back already?" Sera flopped on the floor beside Eruno. The two had smudges of flour on their faces. "Darn! I was hoping to eat the batch we made myself if you were gone for another minute!"

"Hey!" Eruno pouted at Sera. "I thought we decided we'd both eat the whole batch!"

"Careful Apples!" Varric called out from another room. "You and Buttercup already had twelve of those cookies-Each! Don't want the two of you puking up later from all the sugar!" It seemed the dwarf had already given their newest member to the crew a nickname.

Solas quietly stomped over to Quen and Eirai as the crew arrived back at the inn. The bald elf was wiping soot off his face, his entire body language giving off the vibe of someone about to explode with anger. As he finished wiping his face, he took a deep breath, and sighed, releasing the tension in his shoulders. "I trust that things went well on your end?"

Cassandra looked up and down at the slight scorch marks on the walls and white flour footprints on the floor and made a disgusted noise. Quen looked quickly at Eirai. The older Elin let out an exasperated sigh of her own as she pinched the bridge of her nose while Erune looked frantically at the mess.

"Uh… Yes? Madame de Fer offered her services, and we accepted. She will join us tomorrow on our journey back to Haven-just what happened here?" Quen asked hastily.

"Children…" Solas said dryly. "That's what happened…"

"Oh yeah, Frosty." The dwarf trotted out of the room with a plate of cookies in one hand and a scroll in the other. "Letter for us from Ruffles and Nightingale. Might want to read it while you all help me with the clean-up. Had a couple of dud batches in the beginning."

"Awe Varric, don't be so mean! We just forgot to check the cooking time!" Eruno whined as she snatched two of the cookies off the plate and handed one to Sera.

Sera laughed, throwing some loose flour in Eruno's direction as she took the cookie. "And someone mistook the pepper for cinnamon at one point!"

"Oh, quiet you!" The squirrel Elin snarked back, giving Sera a friendly shove.

Quen sighed. This was going to be a long night.

xoxoxo

That morning, the crew arrived back at Duke Bastien's chateau, their belongings packed on the horses. Vivienne strode down the steps outside the front door, a staff strapped to her back. She had removed her mask that she had worn the night before, allowing the others to see her well-defined cheekbones with her dark skin.

For a woman of great wealth, she carried little with her. "I have instructed my servants to bring the rest of my baggage to Haven later." Vivienne said when they asked.

"Before we go," Quen spoke. "We'll be taking a detour back to Haven."

"Oh?" She raised a brow, intrigued.

"We received word that there is a mercenary group called The Bull's Chargers led by a Qunari called The Iron Bull who wants to join up with us. They are currently doing a job at the Storm Coast and want to meet us there."

"Ah, the sea. The weather there tends to rain a lot. I do hope you are all prepared." She nodded as she then called for her horse to be brought to her.

"Hello there!" Eruno waved to Vivienne, a paper bag in her arms. "You want a cookie? Sera and I baked some last night!"

Vivienne raised a brow at the extremely happy Elin, but accepted the snack humbly.

xoxoxo

It was a pleasant ride initially. But true to Vivienne's words, it started to rain. Thankfully, it was a light drizzle, though it persisted all afternoon.

"Fickle sticks!" Sera groaned on her horse.

"Augh! You said it!" Eruno agreed with her, her fluffy tail tucked under her cloak that was soaked through by now. "All it is: just rain, rain, rain!" She flopped forward on the horse's neck. "Are we there yet?"

"For the hundredth time, NO." Cassandra said, followed by her disgusted noise. Vivienne rolled her eyes alongside Solas.

"And of course there are now two of them." Zyllian hissed. She already had to deal with the overly excited nature of her younger sister, and now she had a new friend who was already being a bad influence on the squirrel (not to mention, Varric seemed to encourage the bratty behaviour of the two).

Quen chuckled to himself as he watched Sera and Eruno. It would have been nice to have his little sister there. Riella would fit right in with the two, mostly. Though she might have gotten into a few arguments with Sera about Dalish traditions, so perhaps it was a better idea that she wasn't there.

Vivienne nudged her horse to urge it to walk alongside the horse Quen and Erune rode on. "So, my dear," she began. "You use magic correct?"

"Hm?" Erune turned her head to look at the Orlesian mage. "Oh! Yes, my skill specializes in the healing and support variety. I do know a few light and wind-related spells to defend myself. But…" the Elin then trailed off for a moment. "Being far away from my world means I've been mostly cut off from being able to accurately channel my mana flow…" She hung her head down in shame. "I'm sorry…"

Quen noticed how Erune's cat ears drooped under her hood and patted her on the shoulder.

"Whatever for darling? Why are you apologizing?" Vivienne was curious now as to why the young Elin acted in such a way.

"I–I... I'm just utterly useless it seems."

"No, you're not." Quen quickly said. "You are able to help lessen the pain from my Mark."

"I know... but still-"

"Darling," Vivienne cut Erune off. "To me it sounds like you need someone to guide you; a teacher. Someone to help you adapt to the magic workings of the world. Has Solas not offered such help to you yet?" She eyed the elf apostate with a disdainful look.

Solas and Vivienne did not hit it off well. The Enchantress had views that supported strong Templar control over the mages, whereas Solas wanted the circles entirely extinguished from under Chantry and Templar rule.. Quen mostly agreed with Solas on this topic, but knew not to argue with Vivienne; it was never a good idea to get into a fight with a new ally.

Erune wrung her hands on the reins nervously while biting her lip. "No... he has not. No one has..." The Elin was very shy and didn't want to bother others for help it seemed. She opened up more to Quen and her sisters, but to everyone else, she became very timid. A complete opposite to her overly charismatic twin.

"Very well, as soon as we return to Haven, I will teach you myself."

The Elin blinked, looking at the intimidating woman with a surprised look; Quen mirrored her reaction. "Really?"

"Of course my dear. It is the least I can do to assist the Inquisition. Someone like you needs a proper tutor anyways."

Erune turned her head back down, flushed from the offer. "Thank you."

Eirai glanced over her shoulder and smiled. It was good to see her younger sister getting more support. The older Elin was busy enough as of late with things and could take care of each of her siblings.

When the crew reached the top of a hill, they finally had a view of the ocean, the smell of salt picked up by the wind. As they neared closer, they reached the Inquisition Storm Coast outpost.

One of the Inquisition scouts who greeted them informed them that The Iron Bull, and the Chargers were down by the rocks at the beach, attacking a group of Tevinter mage cultists who called themselves the Venatori.

They then dismounted their horses and left them at the encampment, making their way down the mountain.

"So," Eruno started as they walked underneath the dripping trees. "I've never met a Qunari before. I've only ever seen humans, elves, and dwarves in the Inquisition at Haven. The books had boring descriptions of them so, what are they like?"

Sera immediately perked up, fascination in her eyes. "Oh Greenie, you'll love them! They're big, buff, muscular, people with dragon-like horns! Some people even say they are descended from dragons, hence their gorgeous build and thick muscles! Their ladies are just…" She then purred heatedly to herself. Eruno elbowed her in the side in response.

"Sounds like you have a thing for Qun women, huh? Well, if I see one, I'll letcha know!" Eruno winked at Sera and snickered.

Eirai's rabbit ears twitched. "I hear fighting. We must be close." Past the clearing of the trees, they finally saw where the source of the fighting was coming from.

It was easy enough to figure out who the Venatori were. They all wore similar uniforms either white or orange and lined with long gold triangles. The hoods and helmets both had three horn-like pieces made of fabric or metal. As for the Chargers of the Bull, they appeared as typical mercenaries, each one donning their preferred gear.

The Iron Bull stood out from the fighting crowd. True to Sera's word, he was a tall, bulky man with large horns that jutted to either side of his head outward and scars littering across his bare chest. It seemed like the Qunari didn't even care when a sword cut at his pudgy flesh, it just made his grin even wider when more blood of his own was shed. With a calculated turn, he bashed one of the Venatori in the head with his broadsword, denting the side of the metal helmet and into flesh and bone.

"Whoa…" Varric and Quen looked over at Eruno, the Elin's eyes wide like saucers and mouth agape in awe.

Sera nudged her partner-in-crime. "Told ya. Awesome, aren't they?"

If anyone could say they ever witnessed someone have stars in their eyes, Quen and Varric would have, as Eruno's purple eyes seemed to glisten in fascination. "SO COOL!" The squirrel jumped up and down excitedly. "He's just like Karashvran back home! Oh man, are Qunari like Amani? The race names sound similar to the 'I' at the end. And Sera, you said that they're kinda like dragons in appearance? Same for the Amani race!" Her hands fanned out from her head as she made an explosion noise. "Mind. Blown."

"And now she's fangirling. AGAIN. Joy." Zyllian grunted under her mask. Erune inched close to Quen shyly, clearly embarrassed by her twin's overly excited state.

"Calm down Eruno." Eirai grabbed her younger sister by the shoulder just before the squirrel Elin was about to leap right off the cliff to join in the battle below, even as it was beginning to die down, the Charger's eventually overpowering the Venatori and being victors of the fight.

As they made their way down to the shore, the fight was over by the time they reached the bottom. Members of the Bull's Chargers let out victory cheers and clapping each other on the back.

"Nice one Chargers!" The Iron Bull bellowed before looking up in Quen's direction, showing that he had an eyepatch over his left eye. "And here's our Heroes of the Breach!" He guffawed while opening his arms out in welcome, ignoring the fact that fresh blood was splattered across his torso, both his own and the enemies he had killed. "We welcome you!"

"Oi Chief!" One of the Chargers called out to the Qunari.

"Wassup Krem?" The Iron Bull answered, lowering his arms. "How're our men?"

"Five or six wounded, no dead. We found some supplies the Vints had. What should we do with it?"

"We take em. If there are any caskets, break em open now."

The man named Krem crossed his arms. "Chief, it's still light out."

The Qunari turned to face his man with an annoyed look. "Look Krem, we did a job well done, and we got a group here who just spent days traveling to meet us. Now's the time for celebration. 'sides, the sky's cloudy enough that you might as well call it evening." With that, he jerked his thumb to the sky. "Now go break out those caskets 'fore I make Rocky do it with one of his explosives!" Krem rolled his eyes and moved to carry out his boss's orders. The Iron Bull then brought his attention back to Quen and the others. "Now, where was I? Welcome Heroes! Glad you could make it!"

Quen chuckled at the exchange he witnessed before nodding back to the Qunari. "I take it you're the one called The Iron Bull?"

The Qunari surveyed the group with his remaining eye. "Aye I am. And you're the one everyone's calling the Herald of Andraste with them little foreigners?"

Shuffling excitedly on her feet, Eruno made her way to the front of the group. "Yup! That's us!" She grinned while wiping her nose with her thumb smugly.

The Iron Bull widened an eye at the sight of the Elin. "You're not what I expected to be honest." He looked at her from head to toe. "You a squirrel kid?"

"An Elin to be exact! Name's Eruno!" She held her hand out, her tiny stature dwarfed by the Qunari's tall height.

Letting out a joyful laugh, The Iron Bull clapped Eruno's hand back, his fingers seemingly devouring the Elin's. "Well, pleasure to meet you little one! Care to join my crew for some drinks?" He paused and looked her over again. "Wait...you're old enough to drink right?"

Pearly white teeth flashed back in response. "Yessir!" Eruno chirped.

xoxoxo

The rain drizzle had finally started to let up, and the sun was beginning to set on the ocean's horizon. A large bonfire burned furiously at the Inquisition outpost, now crowded with the Bull's Chargers and Quen's own crew.

"Oh dear... Eruno's starting to sing as she's drunk…" Erune's cat ears drooped in embarrassment. She ducked her head down, trying to hide it behind her mug of water.

Erune had her armor shed around her as she stood on an old tree stump. She held up a tankard (that had already had its third refill already) high in the air as she started to sing a drinking war song aloud. A faint hint of blush colored her cheeks from being slightly intoxicated. Sera was by her side, toasting her own mug to her friend, some of the Chargers joining in as well with a couple of Inquisition scouts. Krem chuckled as he helped the rest of the scouts prepare a large stew from the supplies they pilfered from the Venatori.

Axes flash! Broadsword swing!
Shining armour's piercing ring!
Horses run with polished shield!

Fight Those Bastards till They Yield!
Midnight mare and blood red roan!
Fight to Keep this Land Your Own!
Sound the horn and call the cry!
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!

As the squirrel Elin continued to sing, Quen, Eirai, and Cassandra sat with the Qunari on a nearby log to discuss business.

"Let me summarize it all for you," The Iron Bull said. "If you hire my men and me, we will provide your extra manpower. And my Ben-Hassrath ties can help you with any networking with your spymasters. I obviously have to report back my own observations of the Inquisition, but what do you say about a partnership?"

Quen was silent, pondering over the Qunari's words. "Give us a moment." He finally said, gesturing for Eirai and Cassandra to the side, outside of the campsite.

"What's wrong?" Eirai asked.

"Ben-Hassrath, enforcers of the Qun religion, and much of the Qunari society." Cassandra stated. "Many of us do not approve of their methods." She looked at Quen, giving him a look of sympathy.

"Everyone's life is dictated under the Qun and the Ben-Hassrath recondition them when they fall apart." Quen scowled. "Mages are incarcerated, eyes and mouth sewn shut, used only as weapons." His hands curled into fists as he spat those words. "I remember the times my clan came across Tal-Vashoth, Qunari who left behind the Qun religion. They had called such ways of living under the Qun like a cult: Your life was entirely decided for you. Other races who converted to the Qun ways were assigned a role, just like the Qunari. Sure, it allowed equality in a sense, but it was all dictated by priests and rulers. There was no individuality or uniqueness for anyone. You were essentially a puppet for others. You weren't allowed to be yourself or make your own choices. Every thought of yours was decided by the Qun.

"One of my companions at the Conclave, Adaar, was one of the lucky few not born under such a militaristic society and allowed to have her own independence and freedom as a Tal-Vashoth. She said she would rather be considered an outcast from those people than be stripped of her own agency. She even compared the overly strict Chantry and Templar rule over mages in Orlais and Fereldan similar to how the Qun treated their people. It's a sickening society.

"I'm fine with the Chargers joining us, but The Iron Bull's relay of information about the Inquisition to the Ban-Hassrath?" He finished.

"I agree. It's too risky." Cassandra finished for Quen. "But they will also exchange intelligence with us, something Leliana would appreciate." She turned to Eirai. "What are your thoughts?"

"This is a difficult decision…" The Elin mulled this over. "I do understand your opposing views to the Qun. Even I would argue against letting them have any sort of intelligence about us that their spies could use as blackmail-or worse." She looked over her shoulder at Eruno, who was now having a drinking match with the others. Seeing her little sister in such a joyful manner put a small smile on her face as she turned her attention back to Quen. "If we establish an alliance with them, I'd best be wary about that Qunari. His men aren't part of the Ban-Hassrath, so they have no reason to report back to those spies. The Iron Bull on the other hand…" Her eyes met his as she lifted her head. "Even I am conflicted. Perhaps you should make the final choice."

Quen contemplated all of this. Information was always necessary. Some sacrifices had to be made for such things. It would be a risky alliance with a network whose society was completely governed down to the smallest action and thought. But as the other two said, they needed as much information as possible for the Inquisition to be able to function properly.

"If the Ben-Hassrath tries anything, we can withdraw our alliance?" He asked.

"Yes. Though there may be some repercussions." Cassandra answered.

"It's a risk we will have to take. The intel they share with us may help us in the long run." Seeing the two women nod in agreement with him, they ended their discussion to accept the Qunari and the Chargers into the Inquisition. Tomorrow, they would all head back to Haven and talk with the rest of the advisors as to what their next move should be.