It was the next day when Sera came seeking Arethin out, apparently quite interested in the most recent gossip she'd heard.
“Heard Cassandra went up to your room and didn't come out for hours,” Sera grinned.
“Sera...”
“Good on both of you!” Sera lightly punched her in the arm. “Maybe you'll both get that huge stick out of your arses.”
Arethin couldn't help a chuckle at that.
“Good on you, getting' all those nobles to do what you say, too,” Sera grinned.
“It was difficult,” Arethin admitted.
“Yeah, 'course it was,” Sera rolled her eyes. “'cept...” she frowned.
“What is it?”
“You gonna push all those people still livin' in the Dales out?” she demanded. “Just to make room for elfy elves?”
“No,” Arethin said. “No, I wouldn't.”
"Then what are you gonna do with all of them?”
“I'm not sure,” Arethin admitted.
“Then why'd you even ask?”
“Because I wanted the lands back anyway.”
“Back,” Sera snorted. “You never had them.”
Arethin peered at her. “You believe in Andraste, don't you?”
"'Course.”
“Then you know the part in the Chant where Andraste gives the elves the Dales.”
Sera squirmed. “Well...” she said. “I dunno, I heard it...”
“There you are then. It's in the Chant, too.”
Sera sighed. “Fine,” she said. “But if you do it wrong, the Jennies'll be up you,” she said.
“I have no doubt.” a thought struck her, since Sera had been asking after her and Cassandra. “And what did you do, while we were gone?” Arethin asked.
Sera suddenly blushed.
Arethin laughed. “Did you and Dagna--?” Sera had a certain fascination for the Arcanist, and could frequently be spotted together.
“We did lots of things!” Sera exclaimed, her blush not fading. “Like—um--we made cookies!”
“Is that all you did?”
“Oh, shut up, you went and did Cassandra for hours,” Sera rolled her eyes.
“I did not!”
“Yeah, right,” Sera laughed. “No worries, it's goin' around. What with Bull and Baldy--” she stuck her tongue out. “Don't even know how that works.”
Arethin couldn't help a chuckle. “I suppose it's the...dire straits,” she said. “People get wound up.”
Kitranna and Morrigan were both rather impressed by Skyhold, though Morrigan refused to admit it.
“C'mon,” Kitranna elbowed Morrigan as they and Kieran wandered the courtyard, examining the keep. “You think it's impressive.”
“It is a castle,” Morrigan folded her arms. “There are many castles.”
“We don't have a castle.”
“We do not need a castle,” Morrigan said. “This is...ostentatious.”
“You like it,” Kitranna cajoled.
“The garden is...pleasing to the eye,” Morrigan conceded.
“There's lots of spirits around,” Kieran said, looking up at them. Kitranna ruffled his hair.
“I'm not surprised, little monster,” she said with a fond smile. “Place this old? It'd be weird if there weren't ghosts. Especially with all the freaks I hear are knocking around.” she looked at Morrigan. “You think these people can help with the fake Calling?” she asked.
Morrigan nodded. “At least we might be able to find information on the problem,” she said.
Kitranna sighed. “I suppose it's worth a try.”
Morrigan and Kitranna had been working for years to try and circumvent the Calling. Morrigan had a few methods to stave off the Blight, but there was nothing in Flemeth's grimoire that outlined a cure. They'd investigated the Deep Roads and asked Queen Aeducan about cures, thinking of Fiona's example, but nothing definitive was found.
Kitranna had started to hear the fake Calling a little over two years ago. She'd panicked at first, but when it didn't get worse, just steadily continued, she realized it probably wasn't the real thing. They had looked into that, too, but then the Breach had happened, and they needed to try and figure out how to dodge Templars and demons and everything else, and there was no time.
“C'mon,” Kitranna said. “Let's see what kind of kitchen this place has. They have to have enough food to feed a frickin' army.”
“An army is housed here, my love,” Morrigan said, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, exactly. Bet they got enough weird shit to make all the weirdos happy.”
Kieran lit up, looking more like a child than he usually did. “Do you think they have cakes? Like in Halam'shiral?”
“Could be, monster,” Kitranna said, picking him up and putting him on her shoulders. “Let's go see, shall we?”
Morrigan smiled, and took Kitranna's hand. “I suppose there is no harm in it,” she said, and the three of them began to make the trek to the kitchens.
The Warden-Commander and Morrigan joined the Alliance's council meetings, if only to weigh in on the issue of Wardens. The Warden issue, however, was only one of several that they faced.
Now Empress, Giuseppina had granted the Plains, the Emerald Graves, Halam'shiral and Emprise du Lion for Alliance use. As a matter of fact, she had granted the whole area of the Dales, historical borders and all, to the Alliance, officially handing it over to Dalish hands.
No one except for the Dalish was very happy about this.
“There are quite a few rumors that the entire civil war was orchestrated by the Alliance,” Josephine said. “In order to grant the Dalish their homeland. I suspect your borders will have many threatening them.”
Arethin sighed and sat heavily in her chair. “Very likely,” she said. “Do you think we could start moving into places we already have a presence in? The Alliance already has control of Suledin Keep and most of Emprise du Lion--”
"We also have that outpost in the Plains,” Ambassador Yara pointed out.
Leliana nodded. “I believe Emprise du Lion would be the best place to begin sending people.”
“Not civilians, surely,” Ambassador Vhelan said. “The red lyrium infection--”
“Well, we should deal with that,” Arethin pointed out. “Either way, civilians shouldn't be there and if we establish a firmer presence it should keep people out. We'd also be able to help refugees while we try to solve the red lyrium problem.”
“Speaking of which, how are we going to solve it?” Fiona asked, her lips pursed. “There's still no real solution aside from quarantine--”
“A problem for another time,” Arethin said. “If we quarantine it first, we can deal with it later. Corypheus remains the biggest problem, as well as how we deal with this without inciting another war.”
“I agree that we should start with the Emprise,” Josephine said. “And perhaps your people should merely establish a presence in your territory—anywhere that is already not very well settled.”
“From what I recall, the Graves are sparsely populated,” Vivienne said, pursing her lips and looking down at the map. “The Plains have better farmland, so that is where the majority of the population will be.”
“Many refugees from the war fled to the Graves,” Cassandra said. “They will need a place to go.”
Arethin rubbed her forehead. “Well, where do we send them?” she asked. “We can't just move everyone when they already don't have places to live.”
“You could scout the area first,” Bann Teagan suggested. “Ferelden had a similar problem when we threw the Orlesians out. Lots of civilians had settled in Ferelden lands—I think if you make some kind of alliance or friendship with them, that would help also.”
“In that case, you should visit the Graves,” Josephine said. “Perhaps speak to one of the leaders of the refugees. There are also many deserters from Dubois' army that settled there, and should be taken care of.”
“Alliance forces can do that,” Arethin said. “Very well—we'll start by quarantining the Emprise, and look into less populated areas. Anywhere with rifts, I'll take a look at. Now—about the Warden problem...?” she looked at Surana.
Surana nodded. “It's a fake Calling,” she said. “That's where they're all going.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because it doesn't get worse as time goes on,” Surana explained. “Morrigan and I were trying to find a way to fix it anyway—but it just wasn't getting worse. It stays the same level for way too long.”
“Wouldn't the other Wardens have noticed?”
“Most of them wouldn't have questioned it,” Surana said with a shrug. “Plenty of the Orlesians are idiots.”
They all stared at her, and she sighed.
“And, if they had gone to investigate, there's a good chance they'd've run into the darkspawn bastard anyway, and just ended up in the same fix regardless.'
“The Wardens do not have the same resources and information we do,” Morrigan said. “More than likely they would have gone directly to the source.”
“Corypheus,” Arethin muttered.
“Prescisely.”
“And you did not? Why?” Arethin asked.
“No. I have quite a number of unique spells that let me...search out where the Calling is coming from. We have been researching it for some time.”
Surana nodded. “I'm also the only Warden who's killed an Archdemon and lived. I think that might make a difference, but I'm not sure why.”
Hawke, who had her own information on the Wardens, frowned.
“There have been...Wardens, doing something in the Western Approach.” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Don't know, not exactly,” Hawke admitted.
“Hawke,” Surana drawled, looking at Hawke with more intent “You're the one who looked after my Wardens, right?”
“Looked after--?” Hawke blinked. “You're—that Surana?”
“I am.”
“Oh--” Hawke faltered. “I'm sorry—I don't know where Velanna or Sigrun or--”
“Not to worry. I know, and I know you helped them. Don't know what happened to Anders, exactly, but you helped them.”
Hawke nodded stiffly. “I tried.”
Surana folded her arms, examining Hawke with a critical eye. “So, you have some information that might be helpful?”
“I do.”
“Well, spit it out.”
“In the Approach, there's something...strange, going on,” Hawke said.
“Strange?” Arethin raised her eyebrows. “Strange how?”
“The Venatori are interested,” Hawke explained. “They're doing some magic, and it looks like they've moved into a bunch of Warden outposts out there.”
Surana sucked a breath in through her teeth. “That's bad,” she said. “There's a lot of ruins out there, and the Wardens are bound to have magical artifacts.”
“Exactly,” Hawke said.
“We'll look into it,” Arethin said with a nod. “Thank you.”
The Approach was far beyond the range of most Dalish roving patterns, and sparsely populated as well.
Arethin had brought Hawke, Sera, Dorian, and Iron Bull with her. Surana stayed behind, as they were worried about what effect the fake Calling might have.
No one liked the desert. Privately, Arethin was quite interested, but the novelty soon wore off. None of them were used to it. Even Dorian and Bull, hailing from warmer lands, had difficulty with the dry heat and the cold nights.
It took them several weeks to get to the Warden outpost that Hawke noted as being the largest problem. Griffin Wing Keep, a small fortress perched on the very edge of the Abyssal Rift.
Alliance forces had approached, only to be driven off by people in Warden armor. This was quite a surprise, as they hadn't seen any Wardens apart from Surana (and Blackwall, sort of) for months now.
They gingerly approached the keep, and when they found themselves not driven away, they continued on.
“This is weird, right?” Sera muttered as they got close and saw no signs of sentries or guards.
Arethin nodded. “It is,” she agreed. “Be careful.”
The gate was barred, but they scaled the walls with little problem. Inside was deathly quiet, and it seemed to be mostly deserted.
They searched the place, and found that it was only the first floor that was deserted. Sneaking up a set of steps, the quiet gave way to voices and the sound of spellwork being done, and they all exchanged a concerned look.
There was a courtyard on the third floor of the keep, open to the sky. This was where all the people were.
A crowd of people in Warden armor were gathered before a large dais, and the Veil felt strange, broken and thin.
Quite apart from the Wardens was the crowd of strange spirits, some of Rage or Despair, but others less identifiable.
No one noticed how close they were getting, the attentions of the Wardens and the spirits all riveted on one spectacle at the far end of the courtyard.
A man and a woman stood at the head of the courtyard, the woman in Warden armor like the others, but the man wearing Tevinter-style mage robes.
The woman held a blade to her arm, and the man murmured instructions to her. She took a deep breath, then the Warden sliced her arm open, and blood pooled out. Sera clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp.
The Veil ruptured, and something curious and full of energy clawed its way out of the Fade. A demon, some spirit whose nature was not quite clear, came to stand next to the Warden, who took several deep breaths and glanced at the Tevinter man.
The man nodded, approving, and the woman sighed and relaxed. The man gestured, and the woman and the spirit joined the rest of the crowd. At last, the man noticed Arethin and her companions.
“Ah,” the man raised his eyebrows. “I see we have company.”
The entire crowd, almost a hundred bodies, turned as one to face them. Arethin and her companions all drew their weapons at once, but no one attacked.
“What are you doing?” Arethin asked, staring around at the Wardens.
“I'm helping them, obviously,” the Tevene said.
“How?”
“Lady, you needn't get involved,” one of the Wardens said. A muscle ticced in his jaw.
Arethin looked around. “Blood magic?” she raised her eyebrows. “I don't mind, but—the Veil's in shreds. Someone is doing something very wrong here.”
The man's eyes flicked to the mark on her hand. “I see the Mediator herself has come to grace us with her presence,” he said with an oily grin.
“I want to know what's going on.”
“The Wardens asked for my assistance, and I'm helping.”
Arethin looked at the Wardens, none of whom spoke. “What is it you needed?” she asked. “We could help--”
"Not with this,” the man's oily smile grew wider.
“Who are you?” Dorian demanded.
“Pavus,” the man's smile turned to a grimace of disgust as he looked at Dorian. “I'd heard you'd taken up with these southerners. All the knife-ears and these fools who don't know one spell from another.”
Dorian frowned, then sudden recognition struck him. “Erimond,” he groaned. “I see you've decided to start spreading failure around. Lucky for us you're on the enemy side, isn't it?”
Erimond scowled. He pointed at them, and the Wardens raised their weapons.
They tried to deter the ensuing fight, but the Wardens could not be reasoned with. When it was over, Erimond was gone, and they could not find him.
“Damn,” Arethin muttered. “What are we to do now?”
“We need to find the rest of the Wardens,” Iron Bull said.
“How?”
Bull shrugged, and they all looked at Hawke.
“I—I don't know,” she said. “This was all I had.”
Arethin snorted. “Very well,” she said. “The Alliance will take the Keep—perhaps they will return and we can intercept them.”
“It'd be a good place to keep an eye on Venatori, also,” Dorian pointed out.
Arethin nodded. There were several places in the desert where Venatori activity had increased, and it would be good for them to know why.
“You knew who that man was,” Arethin said.
“Livius Erimond,” Dorian said with a grimace. “A truly revolting little man who's quite bad at—well, everything, really, barring blood magic. It isn't a surprise he'd turn to the Venatori.”
When they returned to Skyhold, they met with Morrigan and Surana.
“This is...weird,” Surana said. “Knew a lot of Wardens were dead stupid, but that just doesn't make any sense.”
“How so?” Arethin asked.
“Well, if there's not a Blight, they shouldn't all be together,” she explained. “And I really don't see why they wouldn't come and try to find me and my Wardens...unless...”
“Unless they did not want you there for some reason,” Morrigan said.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“And why wouldn't they want you there?” Arethin asked.
“All kinds of reasons,” Surana let out a breath and leaned back in her chair. “If they're Orlesian, they probably hate me from that mess a few years back. I probably hate them because they're idiots who don't know the right way to hold a sword.” she wrinkled her nose. “Anders Wardens tend to have more sense, though, so I don't know what the problem is there.”
“Or,” Morrigan posited. “They are being influenced by the being producing the false Calling.”
Surana sighed. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Or that.”
“Could that happen?” Arethin looked from one of them to the other.
“Could do—anything that can influence the Taint can influence Wardens. Something smart enough to figure that out could, in theory, try to manipulate Wardens that way.”
“And something like that would also be intelligence enough to realize who it was who slew the last Archdemon,” Morrigan said.
Arethin sighed. “I see.”
“I suppose we will have to find a solution to these Wardens,” Cassandra said. “They could pose a serious problem.”
“We need to find them first,” Arethin said. “They left the Approach and haven't been back since we were there.”
“We might be able to find the Wardens, but it will take time,” Morrigan said.
“Do it,” Arethin said.
While they searched for the Wardens, Arethin went to the Emerald Graves to try and seal the rifts and gain the goodwill of the locals. The only way to make Giuseppina's gifting the Dalish the Dales not a disaster was to do that.
The Emerald Graves were densely forested, very green, full of ruins that claimed to be haunted. They were not really haunted. Most of the ruins were simply full of old magic that no one knew how to handle anymore.
The forests were the true marvel of the area. Dense and green, with trees full of magic and hundreds of years old, some still dating back to the original Dalish control. There were massive trees that marked graves, some which had the air of vhenadahls or bore ironbark.
It was very sparsely populated, mostly known as a location for rich nobles to have summer homes. Even the Orlesians didn't like how the place felt—as if they knew they trespassed.
A Dalish Clan was far to the north, investigating an ancient tomb, but that was the only Alliance presence. The rest was occupied by some camps of refugees and the army deserters that called themselves the Freemen of the Dales.
Arethin went to speak to the refugees first.
They were lead by a man named Fairbanks. Fairbanks was a tall man, with brown hair and a proud bearing.
He looked down at her when they met, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“So, he said. “You're the great Mediator that has saved the world.”
“That's what people have said,” Arethin said with a shrug.
Fairbanks looked at her companions. Arethin had brought Cassandra, Solas, and Sera with her.
“Do you mean to bring the Dalish here?” he asked, staring hard at her elvhen friends.
“You know we lived here before you did,” Arethin pointed out. “And the Empress gave the lands back to the Dalish.”
“Yes, we heard of the new Empress' decree,” Fairbanks said. “But how am I supposed to move all these refugees?”
“The Alliance can help,” Arethin said.
“Like they've helped so far, throwing these people out of the only sanctuary they've had during the war?”
“You mean the war we helped finish?”
Fairbanks glared at her. “That's not the way I hear it. I heard that your people invaded Halam'shiral and set up your own puppet on the throne.”
Arethin rubbed her forehead. “Fairbanks,” she said. “We want to help the refugees, and we know there's rifts in the area. There might be other magical problems that only we are equipped to take care of, like in the Emprise.”
Fairbanks' expression turned uncertain. “I heard about the Emprise,” he said. “That red lyrium...and you took care of it?”
“We don't know how to, not yet,” she admitted. “But we're keeping people away from it. That's one reason we're here—if the Venatori or the Red Templars have been sniffing around, we're the people best suited to help.”
He gave her a long, measured look. “Most of the refugees here aren't native,” he admitted. “Many of them came from the Plains, or further north, nearer to Val Royeaux.'
“Where the fighting was worst,” Arethin said with a nod.
Sera groaned and rolled her eyes, having grown impatient with the whole affair. “Look,” she said. 'I'm not bloody Dalish or elfy or whatever—I don't want to live in this stupid forest. But if these people didn't live here anyway, and Lavellan says she can help, let her help! She fixed your stupid Empress problem—got rid of all those bastards who liked shovin' each other around. There's rifts and demons she can fix, and them Alliance people aren't half bad, alright?”
Fairbanks blinked at her.
"We...do have a problem with rifts,” he said. “There's several to the north. No one can go near them--”
“No, they wouldn't be able to,” Arethin said. “Have you kept people away?'
He nodded. “After the first few attacks, we just stayed as far away as we could.”
“Very good. I will go and close them, and when I return, we can speak further. Does that suit you?”
Fairbanks gave her a measuring look, then nodded again. “Very well,” he said.
He marked where the rifts were, and they went about closing them. These rifts had been left to grow, and demons crowded the areas around them.
“These people can't get anywhere with all the friggin' demons all over,” Sera said, yanking her arrow from the body of a demon that she had felled.
Arethin shook out her aching hand. The air still lingered with the smell of vanilla. She nodded. “I noticed,” she said. “Hopefully they will have an easier time now that the rifts are gone.”
“You're not gonna shove 'em out, right? Just 'cos this country is all elfy now or whatever?” Sera slung her bow over her shoulder and looked at Arethin with narrowed eyes.
Arethin shook her head. “No.”
“I wonder how this was organized the first time?” Cassandra asked. “People must have been living here when Shartan's people first came.”
“It's possible it was underpopulated,” Solas said. “Orlais has only been what one might consider civilized for several hundred years. Val Royeaux was nothing but thatched huts and mud.”
“When?”
“Some hundred years ago, before the founding of the Dales, but after the invasion of Arlathan,” he explained. “Accurate measurements of time are difficult in the Fade, however.”
Sera laughed unexpectedly. “All those prissy nobles used to live just like normal people, but muddier?”
“Indeed they did.”
She snickered. “Just goes to show—no one's as bloody great as they say they are.”
“The Orlesian nobility? Certainly.”
“What does the Fade say about the Graves?” Arethin asked. “Have you been here before?”
“My resting place was far to the north, in the mountains,” Solas said. “I have not had an opportunity to truly explore the Dales. And existing knowledge on the subject is...biased.”
They went north, to meet up with the Dalish archaeology team that was exploring one of the ruins. They were concerned that the Venatori might come by—the Venatori had begun expressing an unusual interest in elvhen artifacts, even recent ones like the Dalish relics.
Arethin would send a contingent of soldiers to help guard the site. If nothing else, there needed to be more forces to help guard the refugees as well.
They returned to Fairbanks.
“I suppose our Empress' faith in you was not necessarily misplaced,” he told her.
“No. Perhaps not.”
He sighed. “I suppose we do owe you for removing the demons,” he admitted. “But we cannot simply leave. Many of the people here have a life here, and they can't uproot that.”
Arethin nodded. “My people have been nomadic for centuries,” she said. “Many of them would not want to put down roots, even here. Both of our people simply want to be able to live their lives in peace.”
He regarded her, expression pensive.
“You aren't quite how I expected you,” he said.
“I daresay not. I am not how many people expect me,” she said with a shrug. “And what did you expect?”
“Truly? The Dalish here are aggressive and tricky,” he said with a sniff. “When we approach them, they tell us to leave. And mages are—well, mages,” he shivered. “And when we heard some of the rumors—my lady, there was talk you'd—I don't know, that you'd lifted a mountain over your head and was the Maker's new wife.”
Arethin snorted and Cassandra blinked, flushing red.
“I see,” she said.
“So I didn't really know what to think,” he said.
“Well. The Dalish only want to be left in peace. Many of us have suffered ills at the hands of humans and non-Dalish.”
“But the Dalish attack humans--” Fairbanks furrowed his brows, and Arethin cocked her eyebrow.
“So it was the Dalish who made these people refugees?”
“No, but they have hardly been welcoming.”
“Let me tell you a tale, Fairbanks,” Arethin said, a thought coming to her. She steeled herself. “My own son was killed by Templars. Before the war.”
He blinked at her. “My lady, I--”
“And so, my Clan is not overly friendly to humans in armor. Does this make sense?”
“Well—yes,” he admitted. “I see why that would be.”
“Then you see that other Clans might feel similarly.” she heaved a sigh. “I will speak with any of the Dalish in the area, if you promise not to attack them, and speak with your own people. Can we agree on that?”
“I...see your point,” he rubbed his head. “Well, in any case, all you mages and elves up in the alliance have done us a fair sight better than the army or the Chantry, so maybe those rumors had some bit of truth to them.”
“A very small bit,” she said. “Do you agree?”
“I shall...do what I can.”