Back at the estate, she ran into Gwylan at the bottom of the stairs, where he had evidently just been up to find her. "Oh, Teneira," he said, "Where have you been all night?"

"Home," she said, "There was some business in the Alienage I needed to attend to."

"Oh I know very well what your business in the Alienage usually consists of," Gwylan sniffed, "I'll thank you not to give me details."

"I wasn't going to," Ten replied airily.

"Well, you're clean and decent at least," Gwylan said, "The master asked me to find you, he wants to meet with you in the library. He… got a message from the queen."

"Oh dear," Ten sighed, "I imagine it was not friendly."

"It was cordial, thanking him for his efforts to undermine her father and saying that she could take it from there. She mentioned you by name. The master is furious at this, of course," Gwylan said, and Ten thought she caught a hint of amusement in his words, "He'll never say it out loud, but he has this one vein that runs up his right temple that starts bulging when he's upset about something." He was leading her down a long, dark hallway on the main floor, where Ten had not dared to explore yet.

"He's trying to play his own game," Ten said, "He is, of course, woefully outmatched."

"By you?"

"By everyone," Ten said, "He may be a master of statecraft out where most people can't read, but he has this sort of myopic focus on traditions that just… don't always work."

"I have no opinions on this," Gwylan said, "I just want the man to go back to Redcliffe where he belongs."

So you can spend all day doing a fat lot of nothing and getting paid for it. Can't truly blame you for that.

"So what am I walking into?" asked Ten.

"Well, the Arl is decidedly unamused by your connection to the queen, which he feels undermines his position. His ward is, as usual, completely out of his depth. Bann Teagan is ragingly hungover as he stumbled in in the wee hours of morning singing a song about a piglet dressed up in a gown, told me I was his best friend, and had to be helped to bed. They have been brought hot tea. Don't take the green mug. That is for the master."

"Understood," Ten said. Silly old men and their favorite mugs.

Gwylan went to the door and flinched as, from the other side, Arl Eamon's voice rang out angrily. "Why is everyone so fixated on her?! She's just another elf from the gutter, and here you are acting like she somehow holds the key to everything!"

Gwylan and Ten looked at each other.

I kind of want to hear the end of this one.

All right, we wait.

"Ser, you know full well that was out of line. You're better than this," Alistair's voice responded, quieter, but he was clearly in no better a mood, "She's a Grey Warden, this is a Blight. The order has never distinguished between human, elf, or dwarf. Our aim is to end the Blight, we can do that by garnering the favor of the queen, and she has garnered the favor of the queen."

"But why her and not you? This is completely out of order. This is not how things are done," Eamon rejoindered.

"Because you made damned sure I was going to be kept away from anyone who could teach me how to deal with these people until sometime last year," Alistair responded, his voice still low, "If you need something hit with a pointy stick, I am only too glad to be of service, but all this… wheeling and dealing just isn't my strong suit."

"Don't lie to me, boy, that's not why at all. Don't think I haven't seen your eyes follow that knife-eared wench, you think you're going to get under her skirts by just doing whatever she says. Mark my words, boy, she is going to put a knife in your back one of these days and you'll just sit there with that stupid grin on your face and ask for another."

Awkward.

There was a pause. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Alistair replied, but from the sound of his voice he was about to do the closest thing to losing his temper Ten had ever heard, "And honestly, Ser, that's a little bit rich coming from you, considering who between has actually been-"

Ten pulled the door handle and burst into the room before Alistair could divulge what he was almost certainly getting at. I should have known he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Damn it, Lelianna, this is why we keep people in the dark…

"I'm sorry I'm late, gentlemen," she said, "Had I known we were meeting this morning, I would have returned earlier." She kept her eyes on the ground when she said this, but could feel the anger wafting off both of the men before her. Her quick glance at the room told her it truly was a library in the classic sense, not just a place for rich idiots to place their curios. The argument she had overheard was happening right beside the door, but at the end of the room was a low table, surrounded by leather chairs, where she could see the figure of Teagan, sitting there and awkwardly pretending not to hear the discussion going on thirty feet away.

"Oh," Eamon said, his voice gruff with embarrassment, "It's you. How good of you to join us."

"So, what were you saying, your excellency?" she asked. She braced herself, and looked him full in the face, smiling innocently, "Seems like you were in the middle of a… discussion."

"You have made quite a name for yourself, apparently," he replied. His face was pink, either because the room was quite warm, or because he'd exerted himself slandering her so, "I'm sure my butler has apprised you of the message from the queen."

"He has," Ten said.

"You were correct, the last time we spoke," the Arl said, "She is no longer under her father's wing."

"I was," she said.

"Why did you not report this to me at once?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I had to confirm a few things," she replied, "I have done so, and I see the news has beaten me here."

"I filled him in," Alistair said, "Well, parts. I didn't know exactly where she had gone. I assume you do?"

"An associate of mine," Ten said, "She's safe."

"You could have brought her here," Eamon said.

"Nobody will look for her there," said Ten, "If she had come here, your house would have been implicated in what happened at the estate of the Arl of Denerim. I merely sought to preserve your good reputation, your excellency."

Eamon looked at her suspiciously, but went to the end of the room where his brother was seated, and gestured for the Grey Wardens to follow suit, which they did. "Given this development," he said, grabbing the green mug and taking a sip, "I thought further discussion on the Landsmeet was warranted."

"Yes," said Ten, "It is. I don't want to tell tales out of school, but I have in my possession some information that leads me to believe that Anora taking the throne is a foregone conclusion."

"Well tell them then," Teagan said. Gwylan wasn't kidding. The man was positively green around the edges.

"I have been avoiding the gallows for far too long to risk voicing that now," she said, "But, suffice it to say, I don't think it's the best idea to raise the idea of Alistair's eligibility for the throne publicly."

"Oh good, finally someone's talking sense," Alistair said.

"I'm trying to get everyone out of this one with their heads intact," she said, "My energies have been focused on making it a foregone conclusion that Teyrn Loghain never shows his face in public again."

"Shows his face, I'd prefer it be looking from a pike over the highest walls," Alistair said.

"That could likely be arranged as well," Ten said, "As to succession, though. I thought perhaps that might be a bit malleable, but suffice it to say, it is not."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Eamon said. He took another sip of tea, this one longer.

Fuck's sake, man, use your brain. I don't want to lose my head either, betraying some very important confidences to someone who will surely try to use it against her. She means for every bann in that room to be absolutely gobsmacked, if the one I've been mooching off of is the only one who isn't, she will know exactly who told. "I have the queen's ear for now," said Ten, "But that can only get me so far. Publicly presenting a rival, a pretender, can only be bad news for that pretender."

"And how, pray tell, did you gain the queen's confidence?" asked Teagan.

"Well you don't think rescuing her from being essentially a political prisoner in the home of a sociopathic nobleman merits some confidence?" Ten asked incredulously.

"But… why are you getting credit for that?" Eamon asked, exasperation rising in his tone.

"It was a team effort, but due to prejudices that I certainly did not put in place, it made more sense for me to be the one to physically get her," Ten said, trying very hard not to roll her eyes, "She also appears to have an affinity for a juicy crime story, and me being at the center of quite a large one apparently endeared me to her."

"What's she talking about?" Eamon asked, looking at his brother.

"She killed the son of the prior Arl of Denerim," Teagan said.

You mean I've been here for how long and he never put two and two together? Ah well.

"That was you?" Eamon asked, "Why would you do such a thing?"

"He showed up at her wedding, kidnapped her and her kid sister, had the new husband killed, had his way with the sister," said Teagan, "She saved the sister, sent him to his pyre in pieces."

Close enough.

Eamon looked at Ten. Like most men, he had absolutely no idea how to react to such a thing. "Is that true?"

"Well, she's my cousin, but I did raise her." I put food on the table. I coached her through the first time she bled. I beat up boys as were getting fresh. It counts.

"They killed your husband?"

"Yes," she said, "Right in front of me, your excellency."

There was a long silence, Eamon no doubt thinking on what he would have done had something similar happened to his family. Then again I know who you let your sister marry. Encouraged, I bet. "I suppose I would have done the same in your shoes," he said finally.

"I have been hearing that up and down the roads for nearly six months, your excellency. But I have yet to hear an explanation for why, when it seems everyone and their mother thinks I was in the right, they were going to torture me to death for all to see," Ten said.

"I can see why the queen might have been fascinated with you," he said, clumsily avoiding the question, "Noble ladies, you see, they do love crime stories. Isolde devours the most salacious books. All about intrigue and murder. Half of this library is her cast-offs."

I'll be sure to let Morrigan know.

"I think women the country over were a bit inspired, to be honest," Ten said, "Usually we're expected to lie back and take it." Let's not get into Isolde and crime.

"I want to hear how you're getting rid of Teyrn Loghain without it splashing back on Anora," Teagan said, moving his head from one hand to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the last comment, "Seems to me if we publicly call him out, it's going to look bad for her as well."

"I will take care of Loghain," said Ten, "Don't worry about it."

"But, what if you were to take care of him in a way that… does splash back on Anora?" asked Eamon, sitting forward in his chair.

"Then we will be a nation in chaos for much longer than I'm comfortable with," said Ten, "Let me do my work."

"Loghain had me poisoned," said Eamon, and finished his tea, "Don't tell me you are going to let that slide." He set the green mug back on the low table with a 'clink' as though to punctuate that admonishment.

"I am not," said Ten.

"How do you intend to do that?" asked Teagan, clearly interested.

"By letting him talk," said Ten. Nobody needs to know the specifics. This only works if every cog in the machine moves seamlessly and the more people know the more they can gum up the gears. "He's got a bit of a fixation on me, yes? He thinks I'm the only Grey Warden who survived. If I show up, standing behind his own daughter, he's going to, pardon my Orlesian, lose his shit. That, combined with a few carefully placed assets within the palace…"

"So you're going to bait him into humiliating himself in front of the whole court?" Teagan asked, "How do you know it will work?"

"I don't," said Ten, "But I've been working up to it. Started with a message. Then a hand. Then a head. Then a corpse in a wedding dress. He's got to be fuming by now."

"That's why you did that?" Alistair asked, "Here I was thinking you were losing your faculties."

"There is a method to my madness, I assure you," Ten said.

"So I suppose I should be grateful you did not lead the eyes of the law back here," Eamon said. "But this leads us to the next question. Boy, have you given any more thought to my suggestion the last time we met? Elf, if you… adjusted your plan ever so slightly surely the queen could be so grateful that she is kept off the block herself that she would agree to…"

"Stop," Alistair said, "I said no. It's a ridiculous plan, I am not taking part in it, and at this point I'm a little worried your scheming is going to cost me my own head."

"I simply don't understand it," Eamon said, shaking his head, "What sort of man does not want to be king? Is it the marriage? Please, your very existence is testament to the fact that such a thing does not limit ones….opportunities."

"I don't know how much more clear I can make it," Alistair said, putting both hands on the arms of the chair, "I am not interested. I would not be good at it. And, to be completely frank with you, I don't understand why you are so fixated on this."

Ten looked up at him in surprise. Well this is new. Lad's grown a spine somewhere in the last couple of weeks. Suits him.

"You would have my council, and Teagan's," Eamon insisted, "No man is prepared for the job."

"Why is this so important to you?" asked Ten, before Alistair could leave the room, as he had the previous two times.

"He is a blood heir," said Eamon, "It is… tradition. It's his duty."

"His father was a common warlord who just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Ten said. She was well aware this was an academic argument at this point, but felt like it anyway, "If we sit back and let the country rip itself to shreds, one of those bagpipe-blowing sheep molesters on the Bannorn is going to take the throne and in thirty years one of his bastard offspring is going to be getting the same speech."

Teagan gave a snort of laughter, then immediately went red and looked away before his brother could admonish him.

"That right there," Eamon said, pointing one thick finger at her, "That is why they were going to torture you to death in public."

"My duty is to the Grey Wardens. To end the Blight," Alistair said, redirecting the arl, "There is a fairly high chance I don't survive that. And… cards on the table, I'm probably not going to live to see forty, and there has been no record of a Warden having a child after having gone through the Joining. So either we are in this same position before the year is out, or in a decade or two when I stalk off to meet my fate in the Deep Roads. If it's the latter, it will not be your problem anymore, but it will be someone's."

Ha! Look at that. He's grown a brain too. Well done.

Eamon was quiet for a long moment, staring down at the table. The silence got so long it was beginning to be awkward, when Teagan cleared his throat. "Eamon? Were you going to say something?"

Eamon said nothing. His head dipped lower, his beard resting on his chest. Ten rose, alarmed. "Alistair, did you just make him have a stroke?"

"A what?"

Ten crept up to the Arl, squatting to try to examine his features without disturbing him. His eyes had closed, but he appeared to be breathing normally. She got closer, trying to see if perhaps a side of his face was drooping. She was rewarded with a raucous, thunderous snore, right in her face, and, startled, she fell on her ass on the floor.

Ah, that's why I wasn't to touch the green mug. Gwylan, you're a sly son of a bitch. He can't order you around if he sleeps all day. She picked herself up and dusted herself off.

"Well I suppose that's an awkward meeting over," Teagan declared, his face brightening, "Thank the Maker."

"And what were you up to last night?" Ten asked.

"Oh, no, absolutely not. I know what you do with gossip," Teagan said. He rose, and walked out a back door in between two bookcases, presumably back to a wing of the estate where Ten was decidedly not invited.

"Do we just… leave him here?" asked Alistair, clearly unnerved by the entire sequence of events.

"Old men need their rest," Ten said, shaking her head, "I'll tell Gwylan to tuck a blanket around him." She walked quietly back towards the door to the main hall.

"I know one thing you have on the queen," Alistair said once the door had clicked shut behind them, "But I don't know why her association with a half-elfin prostitute is going to help her gain the throne."

"It's not that." Well… not entirely, "But if I let it slip and there's any inkling that I did, it's right back to the gallows for me," Ten said, "Just don't make a spectacle of yourself. She's…" Ten though about what word was the right one to describe the conversation she had had with the woman that morning, "Summoned me. I'm going to have to be at her right hand during the whole thing. Ideally, if Eamon keeps his mouth shut, you can stand there, be a Warden, and hopefully that's all and everyone goes home in one piece."

"I have never once intended to make a spectacle of myself," Alistair sighed, "It would make me feel a lot better to know, though."

"I know," she said, "And I'm sorry. Please, just trust me with this. Yours is not the only neck in the balance right now."

"I know," he said, "And if they hang you, the whole land is cooked."

"Oh I think you could pull it together," Ten said.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, but… I don't think I could. This has been a team effort from day one and I'd prefer it remain that way. So I just don't know why you can't let me in on everything."

"It has been, yes," she said, "And this fight needs both of us to play to our strengths. So let me use mine. I'm not seven feet tall with arms like tree trunks. I can't use magic. I don't command an army. The only way I've managed to get this far is by staying three steps ahead of everyone else at all times. And sometimes that's going to mean being three steps ahead of you, too."

"I liked you better when you were half passed out in the stables with the donkey chewing on your hair," he said, resentfully, but the change in subject indicated he was accepting that he was not going to get this out of her.

"Aw shit, I was hoping nobody saw that," Ten said. She had woken up the morning after the darkspawn raid in her own bed with the blankets tucked neatly over her and simply not questioned her good fortune.

"How do you think you got to bed?"

"I was hoping Flemeth was involved, to be entirely honest."

"I never realized how many stairs there are until I was dragging you up them, with you fighting me most of the way," he said, "Insisting you were just another useless elf and you were going to bed down with the rest of the livestock where you belonged."

"Maker's breath, did I really? Shit," she said, chuckling and shaking her head, "Well, if I'd made it easy it wouldn't have been payback for the several times I've done the same for you."

"You genuinely have no memory of this?"

"If I don't remember it, it didn't happen," Ten said.

"I suppose you've done me the same courtesy," he said, "So what were you up to last night?"

"Lining up the last few pieces. It's going to be a hell of a show."

"I'd really settle with all of us walking away with our extremities intact."

"At this point we're probably best served by crossing our fingers and praying to whatever deity we see fit," Ten said.

"You're not going… sell me out, are you?"

"Well the first step of betraying someone is definitely not announcing to them that you're about to do so, so I don't know what you want me to say to that. What brought this on?" Are you going to be honest with me or make something up?

"Eamon doesn't trust you," Alistair said.

Whew.

"Of course he doesn't," Ten sighed, "Save his village, save his son… I don't know what a girl has to do."

"He's an old man. They have ideas about the world. I'm sorry I questioned you. I should know you by now."

"I don't blame you for that," she said, "I sort of broke my promise about being more forthcoming. What I can tell you is that I just spent last night rallying every miscreant in the city to demonstrate against our friend the teyrn on the morning of the Landsmeet."

"You what?"

"Don't wear anything you don't want rotten vegetables on," she said, cracking a grin.

"Ten, isn't that dangerous?"

"More dangerous than leaving it to the good will of the nobility?"

"I guess not."

"Like I said, it's going to be a hell of a show."