“The Arcanist?” Arethin blinked. “Truly?”
Ambassador Vhelan nodded.
Everyone knew about the Arcanist, the dwarrowdam who studied magic. The Circles had been confused by her, as had the Dalish, and the Avvar, and everyone else she went to to ask about magic, but no one could deny her expertise.
“She wants to come,” Vhelan explained. “She'll be able to help.”
The Archanist was a redhead, dressed in armor who immediately set up shop in the Skyhold forge.
“Arcanist!” Arethin exclaimed upon meeting her. “I'm glad you're here.”
Dagna smiled. “Nice to be appreciated,” she said.
“Don't tell me Orzammar doesn't appreciate you!”
“They do,” Dagna admitted. “But—well, it's a little different when you're talking with mages, you know, who actually know what magic is.”
Arethin laughed. “That's true.”
Even with Dagna assisting and Leliana's people looking under every rock, they still had very little information on Corypheus himself, or where he might have been hiding. With this in mind, Varric went to find Arethin.
“Look, Lavellan...”
“What is it?”
“There's one other person who knows anything about Corypheus, besides me and Merrill.”
“Who would that be?”
“Hawke.”
“Lady Hawke? From Kirkwall?” Arethin raised her eyebrows in surprise. She'd been under the impression that Hawke was unreachable—or at least, that was what Varric had claimed, and Keeper Merrill had not contradicted him.
“Right.”
“What about her?”
“Well, she...she can come here, and help.”
“Is that so?” she narrowed her eyes at Varric. “If she wants to, she may. I am hardly stopping her.”
Varric sighed. “That's not—look, she'll come, but you have to do a favor for her.”
Arethin turned to Varric, hands on hips. “Varric, I am waist-deep in problems as it is,” she snapped. “I do not have time to go doing things for Lady Hawke when Keeper Merrill is already here--”
“Did Merrill tell you that two of our friends are still in the Kirkwall prison?”
Arethin nodded. “The Guard-captain and another elf, yes?”
“Yeah. Aveline and Fenris.”
“Alright. What about them?”
“If you get them out of prison, Abigail—Hawke—will come and tell you all she knows about Corypheus.”
Arethin ran a hand over her head. “Why are you asking me, and not Leliana? She'd have a better idea about how to do that.”
“I did ask her.”
“And?”
“Lavellan, they're in the Kirkwall prison,” he said with a grimace.
Arethin stared at him. “The same Kirkwall with the red lyrium infection.”
Varric sighed and looked away. “That's the one. Red said she'd send scouts to see how it was--”
“Then why are you asking me?”
“You're in charge, aren't you?”
Arethin blinked. “Why do you say that?”
Varric chuckled. “Look, if you ask Red to do it, she's more likely to do it,” he said.
“If that is what you wish,” she said. She shook her head. “We really must do something about the Kirkwall situation..”
They both went to see Leliana. To their surprise, Leliana agreed.
“They should not have to suffer for our mistakes,” Leliana said. She turned away from them, her hood hiding her expression.
“Exactly,” Varric nodded.
Arethin glanced between the two of them, feeling as if there was some conversation happening she was not privy to.
“Kirkwall's red lyrium infection has only become worse,” Leliana said. “But we will do what we can.”
Varric let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Red,” he said.
It took some time, and Leliana was adamant that no one but her own scouts be involved, but at last, they retrieved Varric's friends from prison and brought them through the Cossroads.
Several days after Varric first made his request, through the Skyhold eluvian came two figures, both leaning heavily on one another and accompanied by Leliana's scout.
Merrill and Varric were both there in an instant.
“Aveline!” Merrill exclaimed. “Fenris!”
“Merrill,” croaked one of the two, the tall redheaded woman. “You're looking well.”
Arethin walked over, and the two of them looked at her.
“Lavellan, this is Fenris and Aveline Vallen,” Varric said.
Fenris was very short for even an elf, shorter than Arethin. He was stocky, but hollow-eyed and hollow-cheeked, his bones jutting out under wasted muscles. His brown skin was sallow and ashen, long silver hair unkempt and matted.
He leaned heavily on Aveline, eyes half-closed, and he stumbled when he walked.
Aveline was tall, very tall, her red hair cropped short. She was very pale and wan, and as thin as Fenris. Her cheekbones were sharp and her eyes hollow.
“Red lyrium?” Arethin asked one of the scouts accompanying them.
The scout shook her head. “No sign of infection. We think any Templars with the red lyrium infection either got chased out or were called out by Corypheus, and it seems pretty contained so far.”
“Good.” she turned her attention back to the two of them. “You should go to our house of healing,” she said, looking them over.
“I'll take them,” Merrill said. “Thank you, Lavellan.”
“Of course, Keeper,” Arethin smiled.
“Keeper?” Fenris snorted.
“Yes, Fenris,” Merrill rolled her eyes and went to Fenris' side. “We've talked about this. Come on.”
Varric was on Aveline's side. “You two wouldn't believe the shit that's happened in the last six months...”
Varric and Merrill brought Aveline and Fenris to the healing house. Aveline blinked in the light, and Fenris' shoulder were hunched. Merrill fussed over the both of them, even as healers attended them.
“I still can't believe you're a Keeper,” Aveline said, shaking her head and leaning back on the bed the healers had given her. “I know your Clan called you that, but--”
“Keeper and expert on the eluvian,” Merrill smiled.
“Even Solas is pretty impressed with you,” Varric elbowed her.
Merrill laughed. “Only because I told him to stop being so rude,” she said, flushing. “After that he was perfectly nice! He's a little like Hahren Josiah, you know.”
“Solas?” Fenris asked.
“Fen'harel,” Merrill said with a wide smile. “The Dread Wolf. He's Lavellan's friend. I'm not really sure why she trusts him, but he's nice enough, for Fen'harel.”
Aveline and Fenris stared at her, then at Varric, then at her again.
Varric sighed.
“It's...a long story,” he said.
“A Dalish legend is walking about your Keep?” Fenris asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Merrill nodded. “You can meet him if you like,” she said.
“I think we would have noticed a giant wolf.”
“Oh, no, he's not a wolf right now,” she said. “He's a man. An elf.”
“Then how do you know he is what he says?” Aveline asked.
“Trust us,” Varric said. “Something about omens, and some really convenient knowledge...”
“Felassan went and told Lavellan,” Merrill explained. “And we knew Felassan was up to something, so--”
“Who's Felassan?” Aveline asked.
“One of Solas' friends,” Merrill said.
“You trust what he says?”
“Oh, no,” Merrill laughed. “Not at all.”
“Excuse me, but that doesn't make any sense,” Aveline said.
“Let's start at the beginning,” Varric tried, and began the tale.
“I don't believe a word of it,” Fenris said when Varric was finished.
“That's alright,” Merrill said. “Lots of people wouldn't.”
It was shortly after Aveline and Fenris were rescued that Abigail Hawke finally came to visit Skyhold.
Abigail Hawke was of medium height (for a human, which still made her taller than Arethin), with short black hair.
“I'm told you know something about Corypheus,” Arethin said.
Abigail gave a short, sharp nod.
“Yes,” she said. “He killed my brother.”
“Carver Hawke?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And what else?”
“He's a darkspawn, of some kind, a talking one,” Abigail explained. “He can use blood magic--”
“I know all of that. Where does he come from?”
Abigail shook her head. “I have a contact or two in the Wardens--”
“Wonderful. If you tell Leliana, we can find them.”
Abigail blinked. “Very well,” she said, hardly the last word out before Arethin turned and left her. She frowned, but said nothing else, instead searching for Merrill, Varric, and Aveline and Fenris.
She found the four of them, Merrill and Varric both attempting to explain the business with the Qunari and the eluvian network. Or rather, Varric was explaining, and Merrill was providing helpful color commentary.
“Abigail!” Merrill beamed and the two of them embraced. “What have you been doing?”
Abigail shrugged. “Surviving, mostly.” she smiled. “I'm glad you're alright.” she glanced at Aveline and Fenris.
“You two look—well, I mean,” Abigail rubbed the back of her head. “I--”
“Terrible,” Fenris finished for her.
“I'm sorry we left you,” Abigail said. “We didn't want to--”
“I know,” Aveline nodded. “We told you to go. It's good that you got out, at least.”
Abigail smirked, but it was a bitter kind of smile with no real warmth to it. “I should have done something,” she said.
“You got the mages out,” Merrill said, patting Abigail's leg. “And see? Everyone's fine, now.”
“Everyone except the abomination,” Fenris growled.
“We don't have to worry about him anymore,” Varric said. “Elthina never found him, but nobody else did, either.”
“We've looked,” Merrill assured him. “Lots of times, even in Kirkwall once or twice.” she shrugged. “We never found his body.”
“So he could still be alive,” Fenris said.
Abigail and Aveline looked down.
“Maybe,” Aveline admitted. “But I'm not sure it's that important now.”
“He started the war,” Fenris hissed. “He--”
“No, he didn't,” Merrill said, voice firm. “The Chantry did. Anders was an apostate. He didn't have anything to do with the Circles till they decided he did.”
“But--”
“Fenris,” Merrill looked him in the eyes. “We have other things to worry about now.” she let out a gasp, as if startled. “Oh—I have something I need to check on,” she said. “I just remembered—I'll be back soon,” she got to her feet and hurried away, towards the eluvian.
Aveline shook her head. “I can't believe she got that thing to work,” she said. “Still, after all this time.”
Fenris snorted. “I'm amazed she hasn't killed anyone with it,”
“I wouldn't say things like that too loudly,” Varric said with a grimace. “Pretty much all the Dalish here adore her, including Lavellan.”
Fenris leaned back in his seat, watching the great hall with suspicious eyes. “I see. I suppose that foolish thoughts will persist.”
“Really,” Varric said seriously. “Do not say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Fenris, Lavellan and Merrill are kind of the reason we're not all dead. And Merrill's eluvians got you out of Kirkwall.” he gave a pointed look to both of them. “Look, you don't have to agree with her—I still think there's a whole lot of crazy in that head. But she's the one who got you two out of prison.”
Aveline looked down, red-faced. Fenris scowled and looked away.
"I think anything that angers Lavellan isn't likely to be spoken of very much," Abigail muttered.
"Not when half of them think she's the Herald of Andraste, and the other half think she's sent from the Creators, or whatever," Varric said matter-of-factly. "It's kind of hard to argue with a woman who got a mountain dropped on her and just got right back up."
"A mage in such a position is...troubling," Fenris said. "How are we to know she can control herself? That she will not become like a magister, or the abomination?"
"She's...not like that," Varric said at length. "At least, not the abomination part."
"And the magister part?"
"They wanted her to be Inquisitor," Varric said, expression faintly troubled. "When we first got here. The Inquisition--they wanted her to be their leader. They wanted to give her a sword and everything. She said no. She didn't want to be in any kind of organization where everyone didn't have a voice."
"So she managed to get the dwarves, the Dalish, the mages, the Chantry and Ferelden all to play nice?" Abigail raised an eyebrow. "Because that's what it sounds like, but I don't know if that's true."
Varric laughed. "Yeah," he said. "She wrangled them all together, and talked someone who says he's Fen'harel into doing what she wants."
Aveline looked impressed, but Fenris' lips thinned.
"This place is no safe haven," he argued. "Not with so many mages--"
"Yeah, don't even start," Varric advised. "You will get people yelling at you about it. Unless you want to be in a debate with ten different people at once, don't."
"I suppose all the mages here can think about is their precious freedom," Fenris sneered.
"Actually, there's Madame de Fer and the loyal mages," Varric said. "They liked the Circles. Madame's on your side, and probably a lot of the Inquisition, too. It's just if you start talking about it, you'll start an argument, and Andraste knows we have enough of those."
"Ah," Fenris finally seemed somewhat mollified. "Perhaps this Madame de Fer's views will win out, then."
"Anyway, I wouldn't worry about mages with that monster running around," Abigail growled. "You want a magister, there's one that'll give you a run for your money. He's practically right out of the Chant."
Varric sobered. "Yeah," he said. "Corypheus is a piece of work."