It was dusk by the time Ten made it to the village inn, where she was fairly sure she would find her errant companion. It was, like most of the village, set against a cliff. Half, which she imagined was the original building, was built on solid ground, and the rest of it was a sight to behold - evidently some genius had decided it would be a brilliant idea to continue building up and out, up and out, until an entire half of the structure extended out over the cliff, braced by haphazardly placed oaken posts that Ten suspected were reused masts. The path to the door was steeper than she would have liked, and she wondered how many unsuspecting drunks had managed to injure themselves by losing their balance and toppling back down it.

When she made it up the path, and then up the stairs, and over to the main door which hung precariously over the river below, she found to her chagrin that it was mostly people she knew drinking there. Zevran and Lelianna were seated at the bar, staring into a bottle of red wine sat between them as though they could charm it into being of better quality. Wynne was, to Ten's amusement and shock, seated at a table with a man probably twenty years her junior who seemed to be trying very hard to impress her. In fact, the only people she did not know were a group of fairly rough-looking mercenary types who looked to be passing through. And, as she had predicted, Alistair was sitting on a bench in a dark corner with a bottle of whiskey and a glass, staring into absolutely nothing.

Well, at least he bothered with the glass.

"The solution to the problem at hand is almost certainly not at the bottom of that bottle," she said, seating herself beside him on the bench.

"Not in the mood, Ten," he said, "You can drink with me and listen to me rant or you can fuck off."

"Fine," she said, "Remember I hold my liquor better than you, though."

She went to the bar to get a glass and sidled in beside Lelianna.

"What happened?" asked Ten, "I thought you were going to call on whats-her-face."

"Alas, her husband is home," sighed Lelianna, "It appears she is wed to one of the knights of land, he had been in search of the Ashes much as we were. It was the most awkward conversation, if you must know."

"Oh I must," said Ten.

"Well he sat me down in their living room and asked me all sorts of questions about what we had found in the mountains," she said, "As though there were nothing untoward about me attempting to call upon his wife."

"Well that's probably good news," said Ten, "Otherwise you'd be fighting a duel in the village square and I truly do not want to be your second for that. Sten might."

"I suppose," sighed Lelianna, "She really could have told me she was married."

"Ooh, that is bad form," Zevran remarked, "Would it have stopped you?"

"Absolutely not," Lelianna chuckled.

"You are the worst nun I've ever met," said Ten.

"Lay sister," Lelianna corrected her.

"Still, I can't imagine the Maker smiles on adultery."

Lelianna made a dismissive gesture. "The Chant can say whatever you want it to say." She took a sip of her wine and cringed.

"Why would you order a bottle of wine in a place like this?" asked Ten, shaking her head.

"I heard that!" the barkeep, a portly ginger with sideburns for the ages, called from in corner of the bar, where he was leaned over, deep in conversation with another patron.

"Do you like domestic wine?" asked Ten.

"No, it's swill," he replied, "But it's hard getting imports outside the port cities, especially in the middle of a war, so your friends should be grateful they have it."

Ten reached into her pack and handed Lelianna a bottle where the barkeep could not see.

"I still have the key to the castle's cellars," she said, "Paid it a visit on my way out. There's more back at camp."

"You are a valuable friend," said Zev, "Tell me it is at least Antivan."

"Do not listen to him, we all know Orlais has the best vineyards," Lelianna corrected.

"I think it's Nevarran?" Ten said, "I didn't look at the label. But tell me something, in exchange for this gift. Dour McDrunkface over there, how long has he been here and has he done anything stupid?"

Both looked over at Alistair, who had barely moved.

"I did not even see him come in," Lelianna said, knitting her brows.

"Ugh. One day you will need to explain to me why you are so committed to that man's wellbeing," Zev grunted, rolling his eyes.

"Because the Maker has decided that in one fell swoop He would take away any chance I ever had at having actual children, and then at the same time hand me a twenty-something toddler with a drinking problem," Ten said, "Such is my lot in life."

"If you played the martyr any better you would be dust in an urn on that mountain top," said Zevran, "If he wants to drink himself to death, let him."

"After the archdemon is slain and the land is at peace he will be free to do so," said Ten, "But in the meantime, do you feel like picking up a broadsword and taking hits that'd knock me halfway to the Anderfells?"

"I… do not."

"So don't be a bitch," said Ten, "It's bad for the skin."

"Well we both know that's not true," Zev said, "After all, you and I are so very pretty."

Tired of waiting for the barkeep to finish his conversation with the regular at the end, Ten reached over and snagged a glass herself, and went back to try to mitigate whatever damage the unfortunate bastard was doing to himself. She poured her own glass full - the more she took, the less he'd have - and sat herself down again. She took a shallow sip, then a deeper one.

"Do you know what it's like, having people talking about you, arguing about you, like you're not even there?" Alistair asked morosely.

"Yes, I do. And I don't like it either," she said, "I'm sorry, but me just saying 'listen to him' wasn't going to do anything. All Eamon was ever going to hear was a boy whining about not wanting to do his chores. We'll find another way."

"No offense, Teneira, but this is a little bigger than even your scheming," he said.

"And what would you know about my ability to scheme?" Ten asked, "Do you want my help, or not?"

"I think your heart's in the right place, but, no offense, I don't think even the canniest of elves has any idea what to do with the aristocracy."

"Fine," she said, "If you're resigned to your fate, I wish you well with it. I will sort out the Blight on my own. Good luck." So much for getting him out of this one with his head attached to his shoulders.

She drained her glass and set it on the table, rising to rejoin the much more personable duet at the bar. As she turned, he grabbed her by the wrist, a little harder than necessary.

"Wait," Alistair said, "Tell me what you'd do."

"Me? The thing you find when you hit the bottom of the barrel and keep digging?" she asked, "You're right, what could I know about it? Now let me loose, or I'll make a scene so embarrassing you won't ever show your face in this tavern again."

He dropped her wrist like a hot potato. "That's not what I meant, Ten. I'm sorry. Just… sit down."

"Say it," she said.

"I trust your judgment."

She sat back down, "What do you know about the institution of the Landsmeet?"

"It's when they get all the noble families in one room and make them vote," said Alistair, "Any member of the peerage can call one, I assume that's what Eamon means to do. As far as I can tell it's really that simple."

"Great how they understand democracy when it's only their own who get a voice," sighed Ten, "But I digress. There are, what, fifty noble families?"

"Probably more."

"But they all own estates in Denerim, right?"

"Some rent," Alistair said.

"All right, so step one, figure out who all of them are," said Ten.

"And do what?"

"Whatever will make them turn on Loghain," said Ten, now squarely in her element, "There are many options. The ones who rent probably have debts, so we find their creditors. We figure out which of them have peculiar predilections they indulge in with professionals or just the help, get documentation, corner them at a brothel or wherever and threaten to publicize it unless they happen to agree with us on some key issues."

"But once Loghain is gone, who's in charge?"

"I don't know yet," said Ten, "I have this pipe dream of finding one of your errant siblings that was just raised and educated like a plain old commoner and who will keep that upbringing in mind to the throne. But there are going to be plenty of others playing the same game we are, so we can't really be married to a single strategy. Anyway, after you so dramatically left the room, I convinced Eamon to give us the run of his city estate to start laying the groundwork."

"You what?"

"What I just said, do try to keep up. Unless you feel like sleeping in a damned snowdrift all winter, it's the best we're going to do and a damn sight better than we've been doing. There's no point in trying to travel once the snow sets in anyway, especially not to Orzammar. And so, while we are there, most of the lords whose castles are difficult to travel to and from in the winter will also be there. We will sweep up all the dirt we can find."

"Dirt? What do you mean?"

"Blackmail of course. Now for the professionals, our problem is going to be coin, they don't cough anything up for cheap."

"I'm lost. What do you mean 'professionals'?"

"Whores," said Ten, "Come on, don't be crass. I'm friends with a few, of course you knew that already, but some of them don't trust me, so it's going to cost. That doesn't mean it can't be done, but we will have to find a source of funding for that. I really don't personally like extortion, that runs the risk of actually getting the law involved."

"All right. I am officially too drunk for this," he said, "I'm sure whatever you just said was brilliant, but you're talking incredibly fast and you have this gleam in your eye I don't entirely trust. So let's get one thing out of the way. Who are you, really? And don't tell me you're a sweet elfin maiden with an alchemist stall, we all know that's bullshit."

"You got me, I am not actually a maiden, me being a widow of five and twenty, not that that's any of your business, creep," she said.

"You know full well that's not what I meant. Come on, Tabris, out with it."

She paused. Took another drink. Thought of the best way to phrase it.

"You made an observation, the last time we were sitting here much in the same circumstances, you punishing your liver for the sins of your family, me trying to get you to stop, that everyone, and I quote, 'just fucking loves me,'" she said, "That's not really how I'd put it, but you weren't entirely wrong. It's more that I have connections. I've done favors for a good many people, they may or may not fucking love me, but they are generally well-disposed towards me and may even like to return one or two."

"Connections? You? I'm sorry, Ten, but I don't think your intimate friendship with every scullery maid and stable lad in Denerim is going to do much."

"Don't you?" Ten asked, raising her eyebrows, "Who do you think has absolutely unfettered access to every room of power in this land?"

"I don't follow."

"Do you think Eamon has ever been alone in the royal council rooms?"

"No, why would he?" asked Alistair, clearly not seeing where she was going with this.

"Exactly," said Ten, "But Aislinda Tabris, who happens to be married to my cousin Morran, does. She cleans it twice a week. Has the key, even. See, she got the job because her mother is blind, and she's used to picking things up, cleaning, and putting them right exactly back where she found it. And she's done it, without fail, for the last five years. Nothing, of course, is to stop her from reading everything she touches, though I'm fairly sure the housekeeper thinks she's illiterate. That's just an example. The whole city is a web of interests, all you have to do is tug on the right strands. My people just control the information. I know people who have a stranglehold on commerce, diplomacy, industry… you get the picture, yes?"

"And you're going to deploy all of this?"

"Well don't let it go to your head," said Ten, "This is in my interest as well. This is going to be absolutely legendary. Whoever winds up on that throne is going to be so beholden to those who put them there that not a single policy against us will be made for generations."

"You think I'd hurt your people?" said Alistair.

"Do you want out of this, or not?" Ten asked.

"I mean, I do, I'm just…"

"Then stop making it about you," she said, "There's a greater good to be accomplished here."

"But it is a little bit about me, isn't it," he said, "Be honest. You think I'd do a shit job, don't you."

"That's not what I said."

"But you think it. I know it."

"Why do you care?" she asked, "Right now, our interests are aligned. You don't want to be king. I don't want the nation to fall to shambles even more than it already has."

"Ouch."

Ten rolled her eyes and poured herself another dram, "It's not an insult."

"Sure sounded like one."

"Politics is filthy business and you're pure as the driven fucking snow," she scoffed, "The aristocracy would eat you alive and the diplomats would come along and carry off whatever's left."

"So what if they did? What do you care? I'm a means to an end for you just as much as anyone else."

"You're just committed to your own unhappiness right now, aren't you," she sighed, "What do you want out of me? I told you, I'm on your side."

"Sure," he said sullenly, "Until the Blight's done and you can walk away, go back to the life you were supposed to have."

"So what, I can sleep with one eye open until the Calling summons me to go be gutted somewhere beneath the earth? I took the fall for every elf in that castle, there's no order of conscription that's going to save my hide long term," said Ten.

"What do you mean every elf in that castle?" Alistair asked, "I thought you were supposed to be the wee girl who killed all those fighting men by herself."

She sighed. No sense in hiding this bit, there was precious little else that could be done either way. "It wasn't just my husband that came to try his hand at my rescue. My cousin Soris was with him. He killed some of those guards. There was a serving girl, too, she helped us sneak up to the private wing. And then when we found my cousin Shianni, she got Vaughan to the ground first. Took his eyes. I cut him up. But she took him down."

"So you lied when they caught you. Knowing what they were going to do to you?" said Alistair, his voice troubled.

"They didn't catch me, I turned myself in," she corrected, "And yes. It was a deal, if an unofficial one. I knew the terms. I give them a spectacle, let them string my guts above the grand gate, stick my head on a pike on the bridge, whatever sick shit those people spend their lives dreaming of, but in exchange, they would leave the rest of my people alone. If your sainted Duncan hadn't shown up it'd be business as usual back home, but here I am, they're locked down, and Maker knows what is going on in there."

"Well now I feel like a total ass," Alistair sighed, "May as well tell me to get some real problems."

"No," said Ten, "That's not what I'm saying at all. I just want you to understand the lengths I will go to to keep my people safe."

"And I'm one of your people now?"

"There was a whole ritual about this," she said, "Two men died over it. You were there, remember?"

"I suppose so," Alistair admitted.

"Duncan didn't pluck me from the dungeons for my strength. He witnessed firsthand what a complete lunatic I am once I have my mind on something," said Ten, "Look, don't tell anyone I said this, but I can't imagine abandoning you to the tender mercies of court and all the rivals therein any more than I could leaving my little cousin on the floor in that castle."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Alistair said, his voice rueful.

"I told you, it was the underwear prank," she said, "I am divine punishment for having a juvenile sense of humor."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said. He took down the rest of his glass, "Would you look at me, for once? I think sometimes you miss half of what I mean to say because you're staring at the ground while you hear it."

She sighed. Turned her head, met his eyes. They really were very dark, especially ringed by pale lashes as they were. He's younger than he looks, isn't he. The lines around his eyes were bestowed, not earned. All these burdens and absolutely no idea how to handle them.

"Why is this important to you?" she asked, gesturing from her own face to his.

"It bothers me that you won't," he said, "Makes me feel like you're scared of me, like I did something wrong. And I know it's not me, just people who look like me, but that's somehow worse."

"What do you want to hear? That you're one of the good ones?"

"Well… yes. I think so."

"You have my word as a criminal, when the elves rise up, you will not be the first beheaded in the public square. In fact you'll have a week to leave the country. Deal?"

"I cannot tell when you're joking."

"I never joke," said Ten.

"All right, you can stop, it's kind of creeping me out."

"Oh thank the Maker, that was getting incredibly awkward," Ten sighed, turning her eyes back to the table and laughing. He slung one arm around her shoulder and tugged her against him for a moment in a weird sort of half-hug, "Oh… that's new," Ten commented, "I... think I should go. And you should stop drinking."

"Aww no, come on, we were just getting to the good part. What about the grand conspiracy?" he protested.

"Say it louder, why don't you," Ten sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Did someone say grand conspiracy?" Lelianna said, turning from her bar stool, the grin on her face a bit more than cheeky, "You can't possibly be scheming without me, Teneira, I will be quite hurt."

"Fine," sighed Ten, "Pull up a chair, I suppose you've been as deep in my counsel as any…"

"Oh no, you are not leaving me out of this," Zev exclaimed, following the good sister over. He pulled one of the chairs out from the table, turned it around, and sat, leaning on the back of it, "So, has she finally loosed her tongue?"

All three others were silent for a moment.

"What?" the Antivan asked.

"Usually such a turn of phrase is followed by a filthy joke," Alistair observed.

"We were just giving you the floor so you could say something salacious about me," Ten said.

"Ah, you're right," Zevran sighed, "Alas I have let the opportunity slip through my fingers. Unlike that time when…"

"When what?" Lelianna asked.

"I have nothing, I really thought one of you would stop me," Zev said, putting his hands up, "So, what is it, manita? International woman of mystery? Mafia princess? Courtesan to the rich and well-connected?"

"Ew!" exclaimed Ten, "No. I'm just… I fix things."

"What sorts of things?"

"All sorts of things," she said, "Say a copper I don't like gets assigned to my quarter? He gets reassigned and his commanding officer doesn't get exposed for his affair with the captain's wife. Someone tries extorting elf-run businesses? He has a convenient bout of apoplexy. Crooked contractor has an accident, loses a foot and gains a newfound respect for laborers. Of course I've only tried all this on nobility a few times, but the principle stands. Sometimes I fix things for other people, powerful people, and now they're my friends."

"Well we all knew it was something like that," said Lelianna, "She did not learn the fine art of blackmail from the Grey Wardens, after all."

"Oh, so you already have people in your pocket and haven't bothered to tell me," Alistair exclaimed, "Who have you blackmailed?'

Shit.

"Well…" Ten said, raising her eyebrows at Lelianna, "The Arlessa of Redcliffe's change of heart may have been more than age or a head injury." Lelianna put a hand over her mouth, realizing she may have overshared.

"What did you get on her?" asked Alistair, "Wait, is she actually having an affair with Teagan?"

Ten sighed, "In the spirit of honesty… no."

"Well what is it then? What could you possibly have on her?"

Ten sighed again. Paused. "Remember the other thing we discussed around that same time?"

"Oh no," Alistair groaned, "She didn't."

"She did," said Ten.

"And you just let her get away with it?"

"It was politically expedient!" Ten exclaimed, flinching.

"Stop cowering, I'm not going to hit you. But explain to me. How was that politically expedient?"

"Would you rather she be dead, or doing whatever I say?" asked Ten, "Whispering in Eamon's ear. Diverting funds to our coffers. If she truly wanted him dead he'd have expired while we were off chasing legends."

"And you took that risk!" Alistair exclaimed. He made to pound the table, but stopped himself. Shook his fist out. Took another drink, "You didn't even tell me. You just decided what to do, all on your own. Teneira the Genius says it, it must be so! You should be queen with that attitude."

I probably should.

"Well we wouldn't be worried about this would we," said Ten, "Teagan would be in charge and he actually listens. Should have let the bitch finish the job…"

"Don't say that," sighed Alistair, "Look… fuck, I don't know what to do with this information."

"Nothing," said Lelianna, "You'll do nothing. You will let the old man go to his pyre believing he has a happy marriage with his former child bride. You will leave Connor his mother. I have the evidence secreted away where nobody, not even Ten, will find it, and if you run in there ranting like a madman that is how they will treat you."

"It gives us leverage against the palace," Ten said gently, "We have evidence that it was Teyrn Loghain that set it into motion. He offered to write a dispensation for Connor. Allow him to inherit, not have him locked up in that tower until the end of his days. You saw those little kids, all alone with nobody but…" she looked over at Wynne, who was now leaning over the table, appearing to be very interested in what her young - well, younger - companion had to say.

"Stop making me feel sorry for her," Alistair grumbled, "So what, did you use this blackmail to get her to start acting like an overgrown child?"

"We had a little chat after the last match," said Ten, realizing how slurred her words had become, "She seemed a little jealous that the good sister and I get to do what we want, and I may have said to her that she could really do what she wants as well. I suppose she took that very seriously. And so long as 'whatever she wants' is playing schoolyard games with refugee children and defacing noble portraits, who am I to judge?"

"I am far more curious about the rest of it," Zevran said, "How did you conjure and apoplectic fit?"

"Poison, of course," she said.

"What poison does that?"

"Quite a few actually. Aconite would do in a pinch but it has a distinctive bitter flavor, hard to sneak it into food or drink without being caught. There's also a particular type of salt that collects in the sea caves up along the Storm Coast, but that's far too expensive for everyday use," said Ten, "My favorite is one secreted by these enormous salamanders that live in swamps outside Amaranthine, though."

"How enormous are we talking?" asked Lelianna, morbidly fascinated.

"Think of the biggest housecat you've ever seen," Ten said.

"Ugh!" Lelianna exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

"Oh, you think that's gross?" Ten continued, grinning, "When they're good and scared, they cover themselves in this mucus that just sort of oozes out of their skin, poisons anything that tries to eat them."

"I am so very much going to regret asking this," Alistair sighed, "How do you collect it?"

"You grab one of them from above with both hands, they'll think they've been snatched by a hawk. You need a friend for this, my cousin would hold a bucket for me and, I'd grab one, give it a shake and it would just like… roll off it in these great slimy sheets."

Lelianna gagged.

"And then what?" asked Alistair, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in a combination of annoyance and disgust.

"It really only works on someone who's already not in top condition, but if you get the dosage right, it has an effect that looks a lot like his heart just… stopped. Like happens to old men sometimes," said Ten.

"And how do you get an old man to drink… that?" asked Zev, the tone of his voice conveying that he already knew he would not enjoy the information that was to come, but he could not keep himself from asking.

"It doesn't really taste like anything, the issue is the texture. Oatmeal's the easiest," said Ten, "It's already a bit slimy. That's how I did it. Though, I sold some to a lady of the night one time who had just been written into the will of one of her longtime clients, and legend has it that she put it on her… you know, and then he… you know…. and…"

"Give me that, I need to erase the memory of the last ten seconds," Zevran demanded, grabbing Ten's whiskey and taking a belt of it. Ten cackled gleefully, proud that she had managed to induce such consternation even in the most licentious of her companions.

"I didn't understand that, but if it was vulgar enough that Zevran is disgusted, I think I'll keep it that way," Alistair announced.

"Ah, good, we are learning!" Ten exclaimed.

The good sister, however, was intrigued. "That is diabolical," said Lelianna, "And impressive. It didn't hurt the lady, putting it there?"

"Apparently not," said Ten, "You have to swallow it. Last I saw her she was sitting pretty in the apartment bought with the inheritance, and that was not two years ago."

"Speaking of tongues doing things they ought not to, what made you loose yours, Teneira?" asked Lelianna, "You have been cagey for months."

"I didn't need help before," she said, leaning over the table, "But now I do. See, I have a mind to pull one of the greatest stunts that has ever been pulled, a grand bit of intrigue, a gambit for the ages."

"And how can we assist with that?" asked Lelianna.

"You understand the importance of secrets," said Ten, "And you have absolutely no scruples, despite your constant paeans to the Maker - don't look at me like that, you know I'm right. And you, Zevran, you and I can go places completely unbothered, barely even noticed, just another servant sweeping the steps."

"So why's he here?" asked Zev, nodding at Alistair.

"Well, while we are saving the country, it might have the side effect of saving Alistair's sorry behind as well," said Ten, "I hope that doesn't dissuade you."

"Fine," Zev said, reluctantly.

"What exactly is your problem with me?" asked Alistair, "I've never once had an unkind word for you."

"Quite frankly, I wish you would," said Zev, "The whole wide-eyed guileless ingenu routine is just so boring. And you're so desperate for everyone's approval, it's pathetic."

"All right, then. It seems I do have a few unkind words for you," said Alistair, "You, friend, are deeply insecure. You seek attention with a terrifying fervor, resorting to just saying the most repulsive thing that pops into your head so that for just a moment, everyone looks your way, if only to groan in disgust while you glory in the feeling of having made everyone's day that little bit worse. You go around the world, seeking to fill the void where your personality ought to be by whoring yourself to the highest bidder. Except, despite all that talk, you're actually no good at that, are you. All your many desperate attempts have left you with nothing but a pocketful of dust and an empty bed."

Zevran was silent for a moment. Ten held her breath, wondering if she was going to have to try to break up a full on brawl. But then Zevran burst out in a full-on fit of cackles, to the point that he had to push his chair out from the table, doubled over with laughter. Ten looked nervously between the two, sipping her whiskey twice until the fit subsided.

"I really thought there was going to be at least one ethnic slur in there," said Zev, recovering himself, swiping the back of one wrist over his eyes, "I am impressed. Not so wide-eyed after all, I see. Very well, I'm in."

"Does anyone else have any grievances to air?" asked Ten.

"Ten, you're a self-righteous know-it-all, you're not nearly as sneaky as you think you are, and the fact that you appear to be our best bet to solve all the disasters before us shakes me to my very core," Alistair declared.

"Anyone else?" Ten asked.

"You have about four or five personalities, two of them are tolerable," Zev added.

"Lelianna?"

"Sometimes I wonder why the Chantry teaches that the Maker has abandoned us, and then I listen to you rant for ten minutes and I begin to think they have a point," Lelianna said, "I would do the same in His shoes."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Ten, before anyone else could impugn her further, "And despite all of that, all three of you are sitting here, wanting in on my brilliant plan. So, here's what we do…"