Fiona slammed the door open, making everyone inside jump.
“Wardens--” Eamon started. “You've returned--”
Fiona whipped the documents from the slavers out of her robe and slapped them down on the table. “Loghain has been selling slaves!” she exclaimed, pointing at the papers.
“What?” Anora picked up a paper and read it quickly, her face draining of blood. “What possible reason could he...” she trailed off.
“What is it?” Eamon said.
“The rebellion,” she murmured. She rubbed her face. “There was unrest in the Alienage, so he dealt with it in the fastest possible manner with the least possible suspicion.”
The air around Fiona heated up considerably.
“We can certainly take this to the Landsmeet,” Eamon said, looking over the documents himself. “Allowing Tevinter slavers to operate on Ferelden soil? Even his most ardent supporters will have to admit he is in the wrong.”
“Do you not care for the elves that have been hauled off to Tevinter?” Fiona demanded. “There's at least twenty people missing from the Alienage—likely far, far more!”
“Of course,” Anora said. “It is of great concern—we cannot have Tevinter preying upon our people.”
“They were targeting elves!” Fiona snapped. “They knew the Alienage was vulnerable, they knew that it would bother no one if a few elves went missing! It was reported that there were Tevinters doing business in the Alienage, that there was disease there, but no one outside of the Guard or Loghain heard about it, and no one cared that the Alienage had been sealed off!”
“There is disease in the Alienage?” Anora asked, surprised.
“Yes!” Fiona was almost shouting now. “The Tevinters were operating under the guise of healers—that is how they coerced people into coming to them!”
“This was reported?” Eamon said. “We can't have disease in the city—it makes no sense that the Guard would not have informed someone higher--”
“Unless, of course, Loghain were actively suppressing the information,” Zevran piped up.
“Why would he do that?” Anora said. “Disease benefits no one—it spares no one--” she looked down at the slaver documents and scowled. “If this was simply to quell the rebellion in the Alienage--”
“Rebellion caused when a woman was arrested for defending herself and her family from human nobility!” Fiona snapped, jabbing a finger in Anora's direction.
“She still killed a man,” Eamon said. “Even if she was defending herself--”
“The Alienage was attacked by a human noble, and then they were targeted by slavers!” Fiona threw her hands up. “Slavers who were allowed there by Loghain himself! This would not have happened, had the Alienage had their own representative!” Fiona exclaimed. “If you treated them like they were people instead of--”
“Peace!” Anora held her hand up. “This is not the time for the discussion of these problems.”
“If not now, then when?”
“Perhaps to prevent this sort of thing, in the future, the Alienage should have a representative of their own,” Anora said, a frown between her eyebrows. “We cannot have foreigners operating on Ferelden soil without us knowing about it.”
“And there is the matter of slavers,” Fiona growled.
“Yes, of course.” Anora sighed and rubbed her forehead, her expression pinched. “This has gone too far. My father not only incites civil war among the nobility, but to commit such an action against the people of Denerim--” she turned to Eamon. “This is the last of the evidence we need.”
“You're so sure that the nobles will care about the elves?” Kitranna asked, folding her arms. “Because it seems like no one really cares.”
“Perhaps not the elves themselves,” Anora admitted. “But Tevinters doing their business on Ferelden land? That is something they will care about.”
Kitranna sighed, and leaned back on the table. “So, when can we get the Landsmeet together, then?” she asked. “The darkspawn are still coming.”
“The Landsmeet attends in two days,” Eamon said. “We will meet Loghain then.”
Kitranna nodded. “Great. Is there anything else I have to do?”
There was not, so Kitranna took the time to take a much needed rest.
It was quite late at night when Zevran went to the room that he was using, and found someone already waiting there for him.
“The Crows send their regards,” said Taliesen, who leaned casually against the window that opened to the outside.
Zevran raised his eyebrows, watching Taliesen carefully. “I am somewhat alarmed at the ease with which you broke in here,” he admitted.
“Perhaps you are slipping,” Taliesen said.
“Always possible, not likely.” Zevran closed the door behind him, not taking his eyes off of Taliesen. The man was taller than Zevran, lighter, with an accent that sounded more Fereldan than Antivan. “So, the Crows sent you to find me. Or did you volunteer for the job?”
Taliesen smirked. “I volunteered, of course. When I heard the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself.”
“Is that so?” Zevran tilted his head to one side. “Well here I am, in the flesh.”
“You can return with me,” Taliesen urged, straightening up. “I know why you did this, and--”
“You know no such thing,” Zevran cut across him.
Taliesen snorted. “Rinna.”
“A simple answer, something I've come to expect from you,” Zevran said with a sigh. “You merely betray your utter lack of information—a dangerous habit, but again, expected.”
“Oh? Then what is the answer?”
“Have you paid no attention at all to the darkspawn currently gathering in the south?”
Taliesen chuckled. “A Ferelden problem—and I don't think you would risk your standing and your neck just to save a bunch of dog-lords.”
“True,” Zevran agreed. “But there are a large number of other people I would be saving as well.”
Taliesen sighed. “Look—come back and we'll make up a story,” he urged. “Anyone could make a mistake.”
“And why would I do that?”
“You know what happens if you don't.”
“It does not have to happen,” Zevran told him. “I have choices, as do you.”
Taliesen shook his head, and opened his mouth, and in an instant was pinned against the wall by one of Zevran's blades.
He sucked in a startled breath, his and Zevran's faces suddenly very close.
“I would prefer not to kill you,” Zevran said. “But there is nothing that tells me I should not. So, do you wish not to die?”
“Met another woman, did you?” Taliesen hissed. “Or a man, whichever?”
“You seem to enjoy the simplest explanation, don't you?”
Taliesen curled his free hand into a fist, and Zevran grabbed his wrist.
“What did you do to convince the Wardens not to kill you?” Taliesen snarled. “You sleep your way through their ranks, or did you change it up this time?”
“You are not helping your case.”
“My loyalty is to the Crows.”
“Then that is very sad for you.” Zevran sighed, and cut Taliesen's throat. The man slumped to the ground, trying to close the wound, but he quickly bled out and was soon quite dead.
Zevran wiped his blade off, then looked down at Taliesen's body with a scowl. Trust Taliesen to break into the Arl's house instead of having a fight in the street like a decent person.
Morrigan and Kitranna finally had some time to themselves. They had decided to share one of the rooms in Arl Eamon's estate, even though one the road they had tended to sleep in separate tents.
Kitranna was exhausted from the day's labors, and climbed into bed almost immediately. The beds at the estate were enormous, and much more comfortable than the beds at the Circle. Morrigan hovered on the other side of the room, taking a great while to remove her scarf and her shoes.
Kitranna watched her. “Something the matter?” she asked with a yawn.
“This is not wise.”
“Sleeping's perfectly wise.”
Morrigan put her hands on her hips. “You know what it is that I speak of.”
Kitranna sighed. “Why don't you just let yourself relax?”
“This is...not something either of us can afford.”
“We've been over this before.” with a groan, Kitranna got out of bed and went over to Morrigan. “We can afford one night, I'm sure we can.”
Morrigan looked away, and Kitranna cradled her face in her hand. “Don't do that,” Kitranna said. “Don't hide.”
Morrigan scowled. “I do not hide.”
“Everyone hides from something. But you don't have to hide from me.”
Morrigan leaned into Kitranna's touch. “Surely you are tired,” she said.
“I am.”
“Then we shall sleep,” Morrigan took Kitranna's hand and led her to the bed.
Kitranna pulled the covers over both of them. “Thank the Maker,” she said. “The Alienage was a nightmare and I haven't slept in a proper bed for months.”
Morrigan chuckled. “Nor have I,” she said. "Or ever, perhaps."
Kitranna laughed. "Me either!" she admitted, and pulled Morrigan close.