10 Wintermarch 9:34
Ariana sat at the library table, her fingers absently tracing the edge of a map laid out before her. The fire crackled in the hearth, but its warmth barely touched the chill knotting her chest. She needed Hawke and Varric’s help, the stakes for Kirkwall were too high.
The library doors creaked open, and Isabel stepped in, leading Varric, Hawke, and the three Rangers—Valentina, Lamberto, and Linnea—inside. Ariana stood, steadying herself as her guests entered. Varric, ever the charmer, greeted her with his trademark smirk, while Hawke’s sharp gaze roved over the room.
“Nice setup, Ariana,” Hawke said, lips curling in amusement. “Puts my little estate to shame.”
Ariana rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “You live three doors down, Hawke. I’m fairly certain our houses are the same size.”
“Not true,” Varric chimed in as he sank into a chair. “Yours doesn’t have a library like this.”
Hawke crossed her arms, mock-pouting. “Well, that settles it. I’m officially jealous.”
Varric chuckled, leaning back. “This is why I stick to the Hanged Man. No petty comparisons, no upkeep, no nosy neighbors.”
“And no peace and quiet,” Hawke added dryly, earning a laugh from Varric and Ariana.
The banter lightened the room, but Ariana’s humor quickly faded. Her expression grew serious, and the change was not lost on her guests.
Before she could speak, Lamberto glanced around and asked, “So… does this mean we finally get to renovate the manor, Wolf?”
Ariana groaned, feigning exasperation. “What? The manor is already larger than this. And didn’t you just fix and renovate most of it?”
“The library isn’t this nice,” Valentina chimed in.
“I’ve never seen either of you in the manor library,” Ariana quipped.
“It’s true,” Linnea added with a smirk.
“Manor?” Varric interjected, raising a brow.
Ariana sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “The Rangers have a manor outside Redcliffe. I recently acquired it—it had been abandoned for years after the Blight.” She shrugged. “It fits our needs. Large grounds, stables, a workshop.”
“But this is fancier,” Lamberto teased.
Ariana waved a dismissive hand. “Very well. Do whatever you want with the manor when you get back. If that’s settled, can we move on?”
The Rangers snickered but quieted as Ariana straightened, her tone growing firm. “Hawke, Varric, thank you for coming. What I’m about to share doesn’t leave this room.”
Varric’s smirk faded, replaced by a calculating look. “You’ve got it.”
Hawke nodded, her curiosity sharpened. “What’s this about?”
Ariana produced a letter from her pocket and slid it across the table. “Start here.”
Hawke unfolded the parchment, her brow furrowing as she read. Varric leaned over to skim the contents. Meanwhile, the Rangers sat down, their expressions unreadable—they already knew what was coming.
When Hawke finished, she set the letter down carefully. “So,” she said, her tone measured but heavy with meaning, “what does she want from you?”
“To risk everything,” Ariana replied evenly. She launched into an explanation of the Divine’s concerns: the Templars’ tightening grip on Kirkwall, her desire to help mages, and the chilling rumors about the Rite of Tranquility. She outlined the Rangers’ objectives, emphasizing discretion and the danger they faced.
Varric let out a low whistle. “Maker’s breath, pup. She’s throwing you straight into the wolf’s den.”
Ariana tilted her head, raising a brow with faint amusement. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”
Varric’s grin returned. “Couldn’t resist.”
“She doesn’t trust anyone else to handle this quietly,” Ariana said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.
Hawke’s jaw tightened, her arms crossing. “If the rumors are true, and Templars are making mages tranquil without cause… what then?”
Ariana met her gaze. “Then we stop them. We stop more mages from being sent to Kirkwall. And we help the ones already here escape.”
Hawke exchanged a troubled glance with Varric. “You’ll be going up against Meredith herself.”
“I know,” Ariana said quietly. “But if mages are being made tranquil for no reason—” Her voice faltered briefly. “We can’t stand by and let that happen.”
Hawke hesitated, then said, “There’s something you should know. When we first met Anders, he asked for help freeing his friend, Karl, from the Gallows.”
Ariana stiffened, the name unfamiliar but the weight of Hawke’s tone unmistakable.
“We found him,” Hawke continued, her voice bitter. “He’d been made tranquil—and not because he was a threat. The Templars used him as bait to lure Anders and anyone helping him. After we killed the Templars holding him, Karl begged Anders to… end it.” Her expression hardened, though pain flickered in her eyes. “He didn’t want to live like that.”
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Ariana swallowed hard, her fists clenching at her sides. The Rangers exchanged grim looks, and Valentina broke the silence. “So the rumors are true.”
“It appears,” Ariana confirmed softly, her voice laced with resolve. “And now you see why we’re here.”
~~~
Their conversation stretched on for hours, punctuated by bottles of wine that seemed to materialize endlessly, thanks to Isabel’s attentiveness. The initial tension had given way to a camaraderie built on shared concerns and trust. Varric and Hawke both leaned forward in their seats, their attention fully on Ariana as she finished outlining what the Divine had asked of her and the Rangers.
Valentina, Lamberto, and Linnea sat quietly nearby, their expressions carefully neutral as they observed. Though briefed on their mission, hearing the details laid bare again—this time with Ariana’s close allies—added a weight that wasn’t lost on them.
Varric broke the momentary silence, his tone lighter but still serious. “What of Cullen? Does he know?”
Ariana froze for a moment, her glass poised midway to her lips. Her eyes flicked to the fire, its warm glow doing little to soften the sudden weight pressing on her chest. “No,” she said quietly, lowering the glass. “Not yet.”
Lamberto leaned forward slightly, his brow furrowed. “Wait—Cullen? You mean the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall? Meredith’s second?”
Valentina’s eyes narrowed slightly, her sharp gaze darting between Ariana and Varric. “The one we intercepted the other day? And why would he need to know?”
Linnea, usually the quietest, tilted her head curiously. “Unless… is there more to this?”
Ariana exhaled through her nose, her expression guarded. “He doesn’t know because I haven’t told him. Not yet.” Her tone was steady, but a faint edge betrayed her unease.
Hawke raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Why not?”
Ariana hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I… I don’t have enough yet. If I tell him now, without proof, I could be putting him in an impossible position. He’s loyal to the Order, to Meredith. If I’m wrong—or even if I’m right and he doesn’t know—what am I asking him to do?”
Varric sighed, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “You think he doesn’t know?”
She shook her head, her voice quieter. “I don’t know what to think, Varric. When I first came back to Kirkwall, looking for him, you were the one who told me he was Meredith’s right hand. You told me how quickly he was promoted.” Her gaze turned distant, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass absently. “I didn’t think much of it then. Of course he’d rise quickly—he’s everything the Order values. Disciplined. Loyal. Principled.”
Valentina exchanged a quick glance with Lamberto. “You know him well,” she observed, her tone cautious.
Ariana hesitated, realizing she couldn’t sidestep the subject any longer. “Cullen and I… we were close. Before everything. Before the Blight.”
Linnea’s eyebrows rose slightly, and Lamberto let out a low whistle. “Close? You mean—”
“Yes,” Ariana interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated?” Valentina repeated, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and incredulity. “Wolf, you’re involved with the Knight-Captain of the Templars? And you’re only telling us now?”
Ariana set her glass down deliberately, meeting Valentina’s gaze. “It’s not something I advertise, Val. And it doesn’t change the mission.”
Linnea leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “Doesn’t it? If he’s loyal to Meredith, how do we know he won’t—”
“He won’t,” Ariana said sharply, cutting Linnea off. “Cullen isn’t like her. He’s not… unhinged.” Her voice softened slightly. “But I don’t know if he’s blind to what’s happening. And until I do, I won’t put him—or us—at risk.”
The room fell quiet for a moment, tension rippling in the wake of her words. The Rangers exchanged uncertain glances, but they didn’t press further.
Hawke broke the silence, her voice measured. “And if he is in that position? If he knows, or worse, if he’s complicit, what then?”
Ariana stared into the fire, her expression troubled. “Then I suppose we’ll stand on opposite sides of a upcoming war. But Maker help me, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Varric leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You need to figure out if you trust him enough to tell him, pup. Because if you don’t, this whole thing is going to unravel—quickly.”
“And if you do trust him,” Hawke added, “then you need to tell him before someone else does. If you’re right about Meredith, she’s not going to let her second-in-command stay in the dark for long.”
Ariana nodded slowly, the weight of their words sinking in. “I know,” she said softly. “But until I know more, I can’t risk it. Not yet.”
Valentina tilted her head, studying Ariana carefully. “So what’s your plan, Wolf? You can’t keep him in the dark forever, not with everything we’re about to do.”
“I’ll tell him,” Ariana replied, her voice steady but subdued. “When the time is right. But not until I have proof. Not until I’m sure.”
Lamberto’s gaze lingered on Ariana, a mix of skepticism and concern in his expression. “And what if he takes it the wrong way? What if he—”
“He won’t,” Ariana interrupted firmly, though her tone carried a hint of doubt. “Cullen isn’t the enemy. He deserves the truth… just not yet.”
Varric leaned back in his chair, his tone light but carrying an edge of seriousness. “Just promise me one thing, pup. When you do tell him, don’t do it in a crowded room. We’ve got enough rumors flying around already.”
Ariana let out a quiet laugh, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind, Varric.”
The tension in the room eased slightly, but the air remained heavy with unspoken worries. Ariana turned her gaze back to the fire, her thoughts racing. Whatever lay ahead, she knew trust and timing would be everything. She could only hope that when the time came, Cullen would stand with her—and not against her.
~~~
After hours of planning, it mostly came down to a fairly simple breakdown of duties designed to fit seamlessly into the daily chaos of Kirkwall. Hawke would simply continue being Hawke—stirring trouble when needed, investigating leads, and inserting herself into situations where others feared to tread. Her reputation as a meddler worked in their favor; no one would think twice about her sticking her nose into Templar or Circle business.
If, in Hawke’s dealings, she uncovered anything tied to the Gallows or the Circle that could deepen their understanding of what was happening, she would share it. Similarly, if Ariana came across information she felt was actionable, she would approach Hawke and let her know that something required her intervention. Anything that fell within the realm of Hawke’s usual “meddling”—be it through the city guard, Templar politics, or even Lowtown connections—would remain Hawke’s domain.
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was a start. This allowed the Rangers to operate in the shadows without being discovered. Or so they hoped.
Eventually, Varric and Hawke took their leave, both offering parting words of caution and camaraderie. Varric lingered for a moment at the door, catching Ariana’s eye. “Take care of yourself, pup,” he said softly, a rare seriousness in his tone. “You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
Ariana nodded, smiling faintly. “I’ll manage. I always do.”
Once the door closed behind them, the room fell into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the crackling fire and the soft clink of glasses. Isabel had long since retired, leaving the remaining bottles of wine within easy reach. The Rangers leaned back in their chairs, their earlier reserve giving way to the warmth of old friends sharing stories.
Valentina swirled her wine lazily in her glass, her sharp eyes glinting with curiosity. “So, Wolf. Cullen. How did that start?”
Ariana laughed softly, leaning back against her chair. “That’s going back a while.”
“We’ve got time,” Lamberto said with a grin, topping off his glass. “And wine.”
Ariana’s smile softened, her gaze drifting to the fire. “Very well. I was here in Kirkwall, but my father told me I would be too easy to find. Told me to run. So Varric made arrangements for me to leave for Ferelden.”
“Ferelden? During a Blight?” Lamberto asked, raising a skeptical brow.
“It was before the Blight,” Ariana clarified. “This was back in 9:29—no word of darkspawn at the time. So here I am, a sixteen-year-old on the run, by myself. After I arrived in Ferelden, I was on my way to Lothering and stopped near the Lake Calenhad docks for the night. Walked into the Spoiled Princess to ask for some food and a room. Turned out, Cullen was there.” She chuckled softly at the thought.
Valentina arched a brow. “Sixteen? That’s young.”
Ariana tilted her head. “You know how old I am, Val…”
“I do,” Valentina replied, smiling wryly. “But I guess I never stopped to think about it.”
“He was an off-duty Templar who thought I was probably a runaway mage.” Ariana continued. “So he came to my table to flirt with me and see if he could catch me. We ended up talking for hours. So long, in fact, that the tavernkeep had to kick us out—everyone else had left long ago.”
At that, they all laughed softly. They were seeing a side of Ariana none of them had known. They had been there only for the darkest times of her life, watching her survive, but never glimpsed the young girl who existed before the Blight and Krieger.
“Well, anyway, it was just a few months later that we got word of the Blight. After the Battle of Ostagar, things became more complicated, and eventually, we lost track of each other. The Circle Tower had been sealed, no word in or out, and Crestwood flooded. I spent months on my own, always trying to get back there. But then I was eventually cornered by darkspawn…” Ariana trailed off.
Lamberto’s grin faded slightly. “And if the Blades hadn’t found you…”
“I wouldn’t be here.” Ariana’s voice softened. She glanced between Valentina, Lamberto, and Linnea, her expression sincere. “I owe all of you my life.”
Linnea gave her a small, reassuring smile. “And here we are, following you into more madness.”
Ariana smirked. “Would you really have it any other way?”
They shared a laugh, but the mood sobered quickly. Linnea leaned forward, her expression turning serious. “Does Riley know about Cullen?”
“Yes,” Ariana replied, swirling her glass absently. “The highlights.”
Linnea’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you trust him?”
“With my life,” Ariana answered without hesitation. Then her expression grew more somber. “But for what we’re doing… that’s different. It’s a direct conflict with his belief in the Order, in proper institutions. You saw his reaction at seeing the White Wolf in Kirkwall.”
Valentina frowned, recalling the encounter. “When he spoke to me about it, he seemed… unsettled. Suspicious.”
Ariana nodded. “Cullen believes mercenaries only follow coin. They don’t have principles and aren’t accountable to anyone. His Templar training doesn’t let him understand how someone not bound to the Chantry, the Templars, or an army could do good just because they believe in something.”
The Rangers exchanged uneasy glances. Valentina broke the silence, her tone careful but probing. “Do you think he’d turn on you?”
Ariana shook her head. “No. But that doesn’t mean he’d agree with what we’re doing. For Cullen, loyalty and honor mean everything. And if he thinks I’m crossing a line…” She paused, her jaw tightening. “I don’t know what he’d do.”
Linnea leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady. “He’s going to find out eventually, Wolf. You can’t keep this from him forever.”
“I know,” Ariana said softly. “But for now, I need to focus on what’s ahead. On keeping all of us alive.”
The fire crackled warmly, casting flickering shadows across the room. Though the wine still flowed, a heavy understanding settled among them, unspoken but shared. Trust was a fragile thing, and in the days to come, it would be tested in ways none of them could predict.