Ten awoke the next morning to Avrenis Lin stoking her fire, after having placed a stack of clean clothes and, to her astonishment, unstained leathers that looked suspiciously like hers on a chair in the corner of the room. She rolled over and propped herself up on one elbow.

"So I heard you had quite the adventure the other night," Avrenis said

"Where'd you hear that from?" asked Ten.

"You know Ginny Darvey who keeps house at one of the rental estates on the Terrace?" Avrenis said, "We've been friends for years. It's her day off today, and so she nipped by the Paloma last night for a tipple. She said there was quite the kerfuffle there on account of a handful of young lords trying to have their way with a wee elfin maiden, and pretty much everyone at the inn taking exception to it. She stopped by in the morning on her way home, apparently it was such a hilarious story she simply needed to tell someone."

"Why do you think that was me?"

"Oh come on, Ten," said Avrenis, "What other wee elfin maiden would dare to go out on her own late at night? You know very well most of us have more sense than that."

"Fine, well, then I've given you some delicious gossip to sink your fangs into. You have anything for me?"

"Aside from walking in on the mage you travel with trying to shoo a man out of her room an hour past dawn?"

"Which one? Nevermind, I know which one," said Ten.

"There are two?"

"The… ah… senior mage is Wynne. Then there's Morrigan, you know, dark hair, five ten, tits?"

"I'm sure I don't know who you're talking about," said Avrenis, furrowing her brow.

"I see," Ten said, "Do me a favor, if you see an unusually large cockroach, don't stomp it."

"Oh, we don't have cockroaches here. It's not the Alienage."

"Sure and you don't," said Ten, "But what talk from the markets?"

"Nothing glaring, but the rumor is there's not a few houses trying to curry favor with Teyrn Loghain, hoping to marry one of their sons to Queen Anora," said Avrenis, "But that can't be a surprise."

"And Cailan barely cold! What a scandal," Ten said, mimicking Gwylan Eilvaris, "Do you have a sense of what the queen thinks of this?"

"Not a one," said Avrenis, "You see, she's gone from the palace."

"She's what?"

"Gone," said Avrenis, "Her and her lady's maid. The chambermaids said they went yesterday morning to make up her rooms, and the beds had not been slept in, and half of her gowns were gone from her boudoir."

"Do they know where?" asked Ten.

"No. Given the haphazard nature of what she took with her, they imagine it was last minute, and given that they were not alerted to it, it may be that the queen simply did not know that she was to be… moved."

"I have a lead on a man on her personal guard. I know a few things about him, do you think you could find out when his shift is?"

"I might," Avrenis said.

"Excellent," said Ten, "His name's Jochrim Stillpass. His friends call him Jock. Twenty-eight. Married, two kids. He would have just started last week. He doesn't live in Denerim anymore, and I'm not sure what hamlet he moved to, which is also a thing I would also love to find out if you could."

"I will ask the little birds in the market square," said Avrenis, smiling. Ten pressed a sovereign into her palm.

"Excellent," she said, "And there's more where that came from. I also need some ink, quills, a ledger or something I can rip pages out of, and… get me some sticky gum, will you?"

"I think that can be arranged. I also might suggest," said Avrenis, setting down her things in front of the grand fireplace in the anteroom, "You come with me down to the kitchens. The staff'll be eating breakfast now, and you may hear more from them."

"Gwylan too?"

"Psht. No, he eats in his apartment. Fancy lad," Avrenis said.

"Thanks Reni," said Ten. She helped Avrenis with the fire in the anteroom, washed the soot from her hands, and went with her down the servants' stairs, all four stories to where the kitchens were situated in the back. She had had to go through there to get in and out the side entrance, so she knew generally where they were, though they had been deserted the last couple of times. This time, approaching, she heard the clatter of dishes and conversation and opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle anyone. That did not keep the din from quieting quite suddenly when she did. There were only about six staff members there - standard, given that the estate was barely occupied these days - and they were sat around a roughhewn table.

"Good morning," Ten said.

"And who are you?" demanded the cook, who was standing at the head, clearly playing pater familia in the absence of a butler or housekeeper. Much like the rest of the staff, he was elfin, but sounded like a Marcher.

"This is Ten Tabris," Avrenis announced, "She is a guest in this house, I invited her."

"Breakfast for the big folk of the house is in an hour," said the cook.

"Sure and it is," said Ten, "But wouldn't you get sick of speaking with nobody but shem day in and day out?"

"So you're an elf when it suits you, I see," the cook said.

"He's not from here, is he?" Ten asked, looking over the rest of the table.

"Nope," said one of two scullery maids, a pale, wiry thing with very blond hair, but very dark eyebrows and eyes, "Have a seat, Arlessa."

"Are you Litha?" asked Ten, obligingly.

"That's me," she said, "This here's Aefriel, the stable lads are Emril and Thenlil - yes they are twins, no they do not find the rhyming names amusing, Thenlil's the one with the scar across his eyebrow - the footman's Sioras, you know Avrenis upstairs, and this moody son of a bitch here is Nereidas. Don't mind him, he's just in a shit mood because he's always hungover."

"That's her husband," Avrenis whispered to Ten.

"Here," said Ten, chucking a flask at Nereidis, "Helps the headache, unfortunately I don't have anything that can cure being an asshole."

Litha started laughing raucously as Nereidis caught it, and to her surprise, laughed as well as he took a swig, "All right, I see none of it's gone to your head. My apologies."

"Now," said Litha, who had gotten ahold of herself. She was clearly the top dog downstairs, despite being only a scullery maid, "Look what I've got." She reached under the table and put a stack of letters on the table.

"Did you go to the Alienage last night?" asked Ten.

"Sure and I did," said Litha, "Every fortnight like clockwork."

"What'd you see in there?"

"Fat load of dark," said Litha, "I don't stay to look around, after all. Especially with the new 'guardsmen' they've employed. Ridiculous."

"Who collects the letters for you?" asked Ten.

"They all get dropped by my mother's house," said Litha, "She leaves them on the doorstep, I try to get in and out as quickly as possible. Forgive me, Arlessa, but I'm not as quick with a knife as you are and I'm not interested in trouble with the guard."

"No explanation needed," said Ten, "You're doing a service."

"I am. And I'd do it a lot quicker if you'd stop asking so many questions," Litha said, "This pile here's for the palace." She set aside a stack tied with a bit of twine. The stable lad called Emril took it, "Here's for the Teyrn of Highever's estate." Another stack, which Thenlil took. "And these are for the lesser houses, you can give them to Iana at Bann Argant's estate, she'll pass them down. Now, for here… this is yours, Avrenis, here's for you, Aefriel, this one's for Emril. And then…" she sighed heavily, "The cries into the void." She set a small stack of letters down.

"The what now?" asked Ten.

"Some are addressed to people we don't know," said Thenlil, "Others are just for someone, anyone, begging for help we can't give."

"We stopped opening them some time ago. It got too depressing," Aefriel said.

"May I?" asked Ten.

"I was hoping you'd ask," said Avrenis.

Ten nodded and took the stack of ten or so letters. The top one was not addressed. Written on it in a handwriting that Ten would have usually ascribed to a young child written "FIND MY DOTTER" in all capitals. She realized with a pang it was either a parent who had learned their letters too late in life to ever be good at them, like her own father, or written by a young sibling on the parent's behalf. She sighed and shook her head, putting them away for later.

"See what I mean?" Aefriel said.

"Yeah," sighed Ten, "I suppose I haven't taken enough emotional gut-punches recently, I'll see what I can do."

She let the group descend into gossip and accepted the bowl of salted rice porridge they offered her, scooping steamed eggs into it, smoked fish over that, and a mix of vinegar and hot peppers over that. After nothing but bland, oily human food for months, the sour and spice of her own people's cuisine was something she did not even realize she missed. Of course, she imagined, her companions would remind her that the salt, vinegar, capsicum were only there to mask the fact that half the time the ingredients her people had access to were spoiled, and it really was better to eat sound food. But what did they know of hunger? Anyway, their people had invented sardines preserved in oil, a hundred times more offensive than the little dried anchovies, and thus had no room for criticism.

She helped Litha and Aefriel with the dishes, excusing herself to go back upstairs before any of her companions could catch her in the kitchens and ask why she was doing that. There was no real explaining it to them, was there, that there was a hominess in simple labor, in scalding your hands and watching the filth rinse down the drain. Even Zevran certainly would have looked down on the people who kept him fed.

She sat herself down at the table in the common room. The light was better than in the bedroom she was occupying, and Until she learned the schedule of her in at the palace, there were no moves to be made there. She didn't have it in her to do another night at the Pearl, though there was almost certainly more to be learned there. She didn't dare go to the other neighborhood bosses while her territory was under lockdown - even Don Cangrejo wouldn't be so foolish as to offer help with nobody to back her up except the servants who resided in their places of work. And so… she didn't exactly like the idea of heading over the rooftops home, but she wasn't sure she had too much of a choice. But there was no doing that until the sun had gone down. And so, comfortably full, she sat herself at the table in the common room and opened one of the cries to the void. The first one. In the same childish hand was scrawled.

JEDRIS EVANTINE

ALIENAGE

MY GIRL MITHLANI 7

GONE 5 DAYS

GARDS NO HELP

Oof, Ten sighed. Usually if a child that young went missing from the Alienage it meant she'd taken an ill-fated swim in the river, usually by accident. She'd lost a cousin to the unpredictable current of the Drakon River, and once herself had been pushed under by the roaring waters, not able to free herself from it until she was well into harbor. Probably got goaded into a swim by an older sibling or cousin who's too scared to say what happened. Poor kid.

She opened the next one. This one was addressed to…

"Maylin Rasphander?!" Ten exclaimed out loud, "What the…"

She considered for a moment delivering it to her old nemesis's widow at the house on the river with blue shutters, but curiosity got the better of her and she tore it open a little too eagerly.

My love,

Ten squealed. I wish Eddin were alive to read this. A letter from his wife's elfin lover.

I know full well this letter will likely not reach you, but I have to do something to quiet my nerves, if only for a moment. There are no stories or fables that are at all instructive on this nor a comfort at all. I knew as well as you did that our liaison was dangerous at the best of times, though I confess on hearing of E's fate, I hoped for a moment that it all might turn out for the better. The memory of this hope makes me feel foolish, as I lie here, more alone than I ever have been.

I've counted the months. I wouldn't blame you if you had done what you did the last time. But I can't help but see you in my mind's eye carrying our secret proudly. The more that things fall apart, the more I think on how silly the rules truly are, and can only hope we all three make it through to a time when the world has changed for the better.

I am casting this letter out into the world, an arrow at the sky, hoping against hope it finds its aim.

Yours always,

Red

Ten's folded the letter again and erupted into cackles. Was that why he hated us? Did he know he was wearing the horns? She resolved she would make sure the letter found its home, if only to make sure nothing nefarious happened to the sender, or the recipient…. But mostly to the sender. Foolish man, she thought, Thinks he's listening to his heart when it's his nethers talking, hopefully the world ends before he finds a noose around his neck.

She went to the next letter in the stack. She felt her blood run cold.

To the Grey Wardens.

She opened it.

Ten, I don't know where you are, or if you've even survived to this point, but if there's any kind of help you can get us in here, please, just call in whatever favors you can. Soris tried getting word to Don Cangrejo and the Captain, but it's been crickets - either they've abandoned us, or, more likely, the messages were intercepted. Ten, It's all gone to shit. They got rid of the guards, and they're saying they need to quarantine us. That means no back and forth, even with an escort. I don't know what they're planning, but it can't be good. These new guards, they're foreign. They keep talking about a plague, but nobody I know has gotten sick, but people have started disappearing. There's a man, he says he's a doctor, but I don't think he is one, he keeps taking people into the warehouse for treatment, but they never come back out and they weren't even sick. I hope this finds you, wherever you are, before they take me too.

Shianni

P.S. NO I WAS NOT DRUNK WHEN I WROTE THIS, THIS IS SERIOUS

Ten read it once. Twice. Tried to figure out any way it could possibly be a joke. Shianni had never really gone in for pranks as her chief form of humor. And certainly not about something serious.

Her hands trembling, she opened the rest of the letters. Nothing as juicy as the letter to Maylin Rasphander, but the rest were in line with the first. Wondering where missing loved ones were. It wasn't a bad assumption that a missing elf might have snuck out of the Alienage during lockdown and been unable to get back in. She didn't know any of the names off the top of her head, but it was a lot of people. Everything lined up too well

No time to get the word from Jock Stillpass. It has to be tonight.

"You are distressed."

Ten looked up to see Sten standing over her, one hand on his sword.

"How long have you been there?"

"You made several unearthly noises, I thought some sort of foul creature had invaded the rooms."

"Yeah, well…" said Ten, "No, just me."

"I was not entirely incorrect, I see."

"I think you're beginning to grasp the local brand of humor."

"Am I, though?"

She chuckled ruefully and shook her head.

"It's elf shit," she said, "I don't have the energy to explain."

"Your people are currently being kept sequestered, except when they may be of use to humans as domestics or laborers. This is unusual - whereas before your people were certainly miserable and kept under the boot of the dominant class, they were free to move about. You fear that there is something nefarious afoot, and you are considering absconding to investigate it on your own."

Ten narrowed her eyes at him.

"You instructed me to be more observant," he said.

"You're a quick study," she said, "What do you think I should do?"

"You are asking me for advice?"

"I am," she said, "You are clearly from a culture that values loyalty to one's people. You have spent as much time or more outside of your culture as I have outside mine. What would you do if you received a frantic message from a… do you even have families?"

"We don't call them that, but yes, we certainly have what you might call families," he said.

"What would you do if you received a message from a member of your family, telling you that something awful is happening and that you need to help them?"

"That would depend on what you told me to do," said Sten.

"I would tell you to go."

"Even if it meant I would not return for some months, or ever?"

"Yes," she said.

"Your family is less than an hour away," said Sten.

"They are," she said.

"Then, so too must you go," said Sten.

"I don't want you or the others implicated," she said, "We've been up to some risky business, but I fear this is beyond the pale, so far as the law is concerned, and certainly not in line with our current goals."

Sten thought for a moment, and then a light came into his eyes. "I will tell the others you have gone to the theater."