By noon the next day, Ioan and Hanne had settled on booking passage to Orlais for the following week, first class, so they would not be mistaken for refugees and denied entry, and sent around for laborers to pack up what things they wanted to take with them. Ten felt a little bit bad, but Hanne was an experienced exile and privately, she thought it might do Ioan some good to go live somewhere where his family actually couldn't visit him, rather than having to see the home he had fled every time he looked across the river and be reminded of how little he actually meant to them. She made him sit down and write out and sign - in triplicate of course - a document about what had occurred with his out call. Together, they sealed all three, using a joke seal that she had gotten him one midwinter, of an intricate hand with its middle finger in the air. She gave one to Hanne, who promised not to unseal it, and kept two for herself. One she would place in her chest of secrets back in the Alienage, the other she would keep on her. She promised that the contents would only be used in the most extreme circumstances. She had no intention of breaking that promise either, and, to be entirely honest, the contents made her a little queasy. She wasn't quite sure how the bedroom power dynamics of human versus elf, let alone important human versus prostitute elf, worked when the human likely wasn't sure it was an elf they were dealing with, but the whole thing struck her as not entirely on the up and up.
Satisfied that she had what she needed to protect all of them, Ioan handed her a spare set of keys before she and Alistair left to return to the rest of their companions.
"Rent's paid up to the spring, though I feel quite stupid about that now," he said, "If you have time, it'd be nice if someone checked on it. I was really hoping to get my deposit back, though that might be out. Or stay here if you want, I guess, can't be too pleasant living in a place where servants walk in on you every morning."
"I appreciate it," Ten said. She couldn't meet his eyes.
"You don't understand, Ten, I didn't know who it was until it was too late," he said, "My time frame for refusing had already closed. I don't… feel too good about it, all right? Like… incredibly dirty."
"I know how they are," said Ten, "I'm sorry this is how it played out."
"Well I suppose I'm glad you were here when she put a hit out on me."
"Oh I think Hanne would have taken care of it either way," Ten pointed out, "Look, just… write when you get there, will you?"
"Of course," Ioan said, "After all, you just saved my skin for about the hundredth time."
"Actually I was dead to the world. Alistair gets credit for this one," said Ten.
"Well shit, that would be about the first time someone I'm related to actually came through for me on anything," Ioan said, turning to Alistair, "And I thank you for that."
"Not a problem," said Alistair.
"Swing through Val Royeaux if you're still alive at the end of this," said Ioan, "I hear the drink's better."
"Sure, mate," said Alistair, "And… just stay out of trouble, will you?"
"Me? Despite current appearances, you are in much more danger than I am," said Ioan, "Come on, bring it in. And try to keep your head attached to your shoulders, yeah? If you need to run, you can look me up."
"I'll keep that in mind."
The strange quartet made general goodbye noises for the next ten minutes or so. Ten let Hanne pick her up and spin her around again - she truly did not understand why the dwarf found it so amusing - and then they walked out into the street, eyes bloodshot, backs aching, and made their way back to the market quarter. Managing to weave between the shoppers, peddlers, and general foot traffic of a regular Thursday morning, they made it to the alley through which they could get in the servants' entrance, as instructed. Before he opened the door, though, Alistair paused and turned to her.
"One thing before we get in there…"
"Here we go," Ten sighed.
"How long were you going to leave out the whole organized crime thing?"
"I'm fairly sure we had that conversation back in Redcliffe," said Ten.
"No, we had the conversation about how you manipulate labor markets and occasionally blackmail a guard or two," said Alistair, "Not the one where you're on a first name basis with every hitman in town and his boss."
"I really fail to see the difference," said Ten.
"You're not just involved in it. You actually… run things."
"I don't know why you're so surprised."
"Well, first of all, you are on the young side."
"Do you even know how old I am?" she asked.
"I suppose I don't."
"Well neither do I exactly. But you're not wrong. We don't tend to live very long. My predecessor found the wrong end of a noose about five years ago. Hell, I was supposed to meet that particular end earlier this year," she said.
"What about her predecessor?"
"My mother?" Ten asked, "She found the wrong end of a sword. She would have been older than I am, but not by much."
Alistair paused, "You've never spoken about your mother. I probably should have registered that by now."
"I didn't know her," said Ten, "Everyone who did describes her as 'like me but worse.' Seeing as she apparently challenged one of the arls' knights to a duel for the honor of her younger sister. She lost."
"She had a little girl at home and she challenged one of the most heavily trained fighters in the land to a…. Actually that does explain quite a bit about you."
"I'm sure in her mind she was making the world safer for all the little elf girls, showing men in power they couldn't just do whatever they wanted with us."
"In yours?"
"I suspect it was a plain old case of star-crossed lovers and an overzealous big sister," sighed Ten, giving voice to that opinion for the first time, "My aunt kept the baby, after all. She wouldn't have done that if it was… coerced. So, just another sad story."
"I've been hearing a lot of those lately. But… still, don't you think that 'oh, by the by, I just happen to be a moderately important figure in Denerim's seedy underbelly' might have been a good thing to mention sometime in the last several months?"
"So, Alistair, here is the thing about crime. In general, you don't fucking talk about it. Especially not with people like you," said Ten.
"What do you mean, people like me?"
"People who have access to places like this," she said, gesturing up at the estate, "Titles, lands, estates. Neither of us are old enough to remember it, but when all that happened, it would have been less than ten years since the Orlesian occupation was expelled. It was a brand new country, still deciding what it was going to be. And I think maybe there had been hope, for us, that when the rest of the Fereldan people cast off their chains, they'd loosen ours in turn. But no, liberation for thee, not for me. We just got slightly less fashionable boots on our necks. But you see, she would have seen that, heard the rhetoric, the calls to arms, to the barricades… but then, it ended. The humans were free, but that inspiration didn't extend to us. And then, when she or any of us try to do the same, we get imprisoned, lashed, parts cut off, gibbeted, and hanged. By the time it was my turn, I settled for what safety we could get, and that meant sometimes unscrupulous allies." She braced herself for Alistair to tell her that surely they could have plead their case to sympathetic nobles. He didn't, however.
"I've seen you have the opportunity to do some pretty nasty things," he said, "But at every turn you try to find a way to do it with… minimal casualties. So, I guess I believe you."
"It's not that I really want to be associating with assassins and smugglers and... all that. But, when the law does not give a shit whether everyone you love lives or dies, you become a criminal, or you let them die," she said, "And had our lots in life been reversed I like to think you'd have done the same."
"You think that?" Alistair asked, his expression uncharacteristically inscrutable.
"Yes," said Ten, "I watched you break your own hand on the face of a man who had eight inches and eighty pounds on you. You're not someone who takes it lying down."
"But you were angry at me about that."
"I was scared for you," she admitted, "You had no idea how badly you'd gotten hurt or how much worse that could have gone. Sometimes fear comes out sounding angry and I'm sorry for that. I have sort of a thing about people getting hurt on my account. People who stick up for me tend to die."
Alsitair sighed and shook his head, "Now I feel like an ass for wanting to be angry at you."
"You didn't actually want to be angry at me, you wanted to be angry at everyone in your life who lied to you and kept you in the dark for no reason other than to get something out of you, of which there have been many," she said, "So I don't truly blame you for that. And while I have not always been completely candid with you, I promise I will do my best to be little more forthcoming going forward. So are we square?"
He nodded, but then crossed his arms, turning his back to the door, "Tell me who the client was."
"I will, just not right now because I'm guessing your stomach is in the same condition as mine and I really don't feel like being vomited on, so let's wait until you're within scuttling distance of a basin."
"Fine. We're square for now."
"All right, good because I have to confess another lie I've told."
"Oh Ten, what is it now?" he asked, his expression exasperated.
"Elves do actually get hangovers. I have an absolutely raging one right now, and I would really and truly appreciate you getting out of the way so I can go take something for it and have a bath and a nap."
"One condition."
"What's that?"
"Whatever you have for a headache, give me twice what you take."
"Deal."
By this point, nobody raised any eyebrows when Ten was gone all night or when Alistair stumbled in reeking of liquor, and so when both happened in the same afternoon, it just seemed like business as usual. Either way, the only one who was even there to notice was Morrigan, who was lying languidly on the sofa in the common room, her feet up on one arm of it, now on book seven of a series that Ten remembered being more dark than racy. She acknowledged their entry with a pointed glare which said, "Don't you dare talk to me right now," which both of them took to heart. Back in her room, she rummaged through her makeshift pharmacy.
"All right, here's for the headache," she said, handing Alistair one vial, "Here's to perk you up. And… this is for cleaning your mouth out after I tell you what I'm about to tell you because you will feel dirty as hell." He obediently swallowed the first two, and then, quietly, she divulged her suspicions about who exactly had put a hit out on Ioan Vanalys, and why.
"Oh you weren't kidding," Alistair said, his face crumpled in disgust, "That is extremely weird and creepy. Also even saying it is probably treason, so I'll be keeping this one to myself. And I need a bath or eight."
"Well if you wanted to get me hanged, that is so very far down on the list of things I've done or said," said Ten.
"True. Still. Eugh." He shuddered.
"Yeah," said Ten, "I have a sort of half baked plan about figuring out what truth there is to it. I'm just waiting on some key information."
"About what?"
"Well," said Ten, "When the city guard cleared out everyone assigned to the Alienage, two men retired and three were transferred. One of them, his name's Jock Stillpass, got sent to the queen's personal guard. But he lives… out there." She waved her hand vaguely at the window.
"What do you mean, out there?" Alistair asked, narrowing his eyes.
"In one of the villages on the outskirts. The old copper I was talking to when you decided to suckerpunch Ser Kit at the Paloma told me. The problem is that as of yet, I don't know which one it is yet or his address. I have an asset on it already, but it'll be difficult since the networks don't really extend outside the city."
"Asset. Network. What are you even on about?"
She sighed and closed her eyes, annoyed that he simply did not have the same base of knowledge as she did, "Elves in service. They can find out pretty much anything, if you hadn't noticed. The one hiccup is that the ones who work out there, live out there. I'll find out, it's just going to take some time."
"How many villages are even close enough for people who work in the city to live?"
"Three to the north. I think two to the south. The land along the west road's not suited for construction so there's not much there except the occasional farm until you hit points closer to Crestwood, and nobody's doing that commute."
"I see, so you're going to find out with this Master Stillpass lives and what, pull his fingernails out until he squeals?"
"No!" she exclaimed, "I'm going to have a nice little chat with him."
"A nice little chat like we're having right now, or a nice little chat like you had with that shopkeeper in Highever?"
"Somewhere in between," she said, "The only thing that gives me pause is that the villages to the south I've heard can get a little dicey for elves."
"So send me," said Alistair, "I can take any combination of the other… non-elves. And we both know I do know how to have a nice little chat. Ask my brother-in-law."
"I would never impugn your ability to throw a grown man through a window. Still impressed with that, by the way, but I think this requires a softer touch. Lelianna probably could get the job done but she just doesn't have the background I do," said Ten, "I've known the man since he started his career and he's terrified of me."
"Can't say I blame him. But I really don't like the idea of you running the roads by yourself in a place you're liable to get… accosted."
"I won't go alone," she said, "The thing they hate the most out there is mixing. So it's either Zevran and I go alone, or I don't go at all, and to be quite honest I kind of want to have a word with the man personally."
"Why, are you sleeping with that guard too?"
Ten rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said, "And that's why I'm bringing Zev, he won't object to the brilliant plan I have to get all the information I need in the course of an absolutely depraved ménage à trois."
"Wait, what?"
"Quatre if his wife's home."
"I'm not sure I…"
"Cinq if he's got an attractive manservant"
"I don't even know what that…"
"Oof, getting crowded, hope he's got a large bed."
"You're trying to get me to leave, aren't you."
"You make it weird, I make it weirder. That's the deal from now on, so I can keep going as you get progressively more confused or you can stop taking jabs at my personal life," said Ten.
"Ugh. Sorry. I was just joking."
"I wasn't. Get out, I need to stretch. Gotta be limber for this one."
"All right all right, point taken," he chuckled, backing out of the door. When he was outside of slapping distance, he added, "Let's just hope the family dog escapes in time…"
She chucked a shoe at him. He caught it before it could hit the door on the other side of the hallway, threw it back at her, and shut her door. Still laughing, she washed the rest of the night off her and went to sleep it off in earnest.