Absidy Wells sat on the edge of the garden wall, in a quiet corner where no one would see her, staring down at the courtyard below and watching all the people passing by, waking up for their morning shifts. If she didn't get down now, she'd be late for her own.

Except she couldn't bring herself to move.

Sera had shown her this place a while ago, when she'd been overwhelmed with some noble prat screaming because she hadn't tucked his sheets in in the manner he'd wanted them done. Sera was such a good sort, always helping with little things, always getting back at the people who punched down.

Between Sera and that odd mage boy, Cole, the castle normally ran with almost no resentment from the lower ranks.

And the Inquisitor had kicked Sera out of the Inquisition. And then the Champion of Kirkwall had left them, too.

Absidy hadn't been able to understand how the Inquisitor could think she was making the right choices when everyone was jumping ship, and yet…she'd been so detached, so uncaring when Absidy had confronted her. She'd chosen her words to placate.

Just like Absidy's former employer. If there was a problem with the pay or one of his guests got a bit handsy, Absidy always found her complaints met with simple assurances that things were not so bad and that they would be fixed.

Here…she'd come here because she'd heard that the 'little people', as Sera called them, were treated well. She'd wanted to make a difference, yes, to contribute however she could to make the world better, but she'd wanted to be treated fairly, too.

But in the end, the Inquisitor was no different from any other person with power.

Or…she'd been thinking that.

Right up until she'd stormed into the Inquisitor's chambers to pick up their conversation where it was left off and had found her clinging to her general, repeating over and over that she couldn't beat Corypheus.

If she couldn't win…what was the point of all this? The point of closing the rifts? Wouldn't that monster just open them again? Wouldn't he bring about worse?

"We need to talk."

Absidy nearly fell off her perch at the words, though Sister Nightingale's hand reached forward to catch her if need be. In the last second, she managed to right herself, though she couldn't stop the look of terror from spreading across her face as the spymaster gave her a kind smile.

She knew the rumors of the woman. Was she going to toss her off the battlements for what she knew? That they were going to lose?

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," Absidy replied, her voice barely coming when she summoned it.

"Good." Leliana patted her arm and then turned her attention down below, as though she weren't particularly concerned about anything. "Before you worry, I've already given you the day off. No one's much good after a night with no sleep."

That she knew Absidy had been up here all night…

It was more than a little terrifying, and only made the dread inside her curled over on itself. She really did know everything.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Indeed." Sister Nightingale turned toward her again, a smile in place. "You've seen something you shouldn't have." Even as Absidy's stomach plummeted into the Void, Leliana continued. "As I'm sure you know, there is quite the bet going throughout the castle in regards to our dear inquisitor and her commander. A lot of people are enjoying themselves, a welcome reprieve, I think. Don't you?"

She stared at Sister Nightingale for a moment before abruptly letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "This is…about the bet?"

"Indeed. Those two have been floundering around with each other for some time."

Absidy tried to order her thoughts, half expecting the spymaster to toss her from the wall the second she let her guard down. "So the bet's over then."

"I should think not."

"But you said—"

"The bet is for which templar or former templar gets the girl first, yes?" Sister Nightingale waited for her to nod before shrugging. "That would mean they have to know they have the girl, yes?" Another nod. "Then the bet is still on. You can keep a secret, can't you?" When Absidy nodded again, Sister Nightingale smiled. "Our general is brilliant on the field, but a bit of a blind fool when it comes to feelings. He doesn't know he's had her for a long time now."

"Oh."

It was all Absidy could manage. After all, she'd never taken part in the bet. She didn't see a point in treating the higher ups like a game, and had worried their wrath would rain down upon everyone involved.

To know that at least some of them knew about the bet…

"Josie is in on the bet, you know." Sister Nightingale said, shaking her head as she watched the bustle below slowly increase as the light of dawn lightened the world. One of the moons hung low in the sky, setting later as it started to wane. "Ambassador Montilyet. She thinks it's quite romantic. I've bet on our dear seeker, myself. She deserves some happiness, too." Sister Nightingale fell silent for a breath before looking back at Absidy. "So then, can I trust you not to say anything of what you saw? I would not want to disappoint people, or have them think the bet is prematurely over."

So that's what this was. A friendly talk to assure that she wouldn't say anything about the Inquisitor's…

"She says she can't win."

"Finley says a lot of things, behind closed doors," Sister Nightingale replied. "She can't win. She's not divine. She's not fit to be inquisitor." The sister paused a moment before leaning toward Absidy, "That she hates Orlesians and their politics." She paused another beat before adding, "I don't take offense. I know she doesn't mean me."

Absidy sat there, confused. Was she supposed to feel better because of this?

"Finley has already done so many things that were impossible, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes."

"She does not see it. And that is why she does not know that she will win."

Absidy opened her mouth to respond, only to close it. What could she say to that? She didn't know the inquisitor well enough to argue. Only the memory of how sure the inquisitor had been of their failure gave her pause.

Their illustrious leader had been so sure that they would fail.

So sure.

"If you wish to leave the Inquisition, I understand—"

"Of course not!" Absidy cried out, nearly losing her balance. She managed to catch herself, even as the spymaster's hands moved to catch her again. "I just… she banished Sera, won't help people who desperately need it—"

"Her hands are tied by rules she does not understand. It frustrates her more than you know."

Hadn't Sister Leliana just said something about the Inquisitor not liking the Orlesian nobles?

"There is more at work than you know." Leliana stated, and then shrugged. "Should you tell anyone, I will deny it wholeheartedly, as will anyone else involved. Some better than others." She abruptly stood up. "Now then, I would like you to do one thing on your day off. Check on the Inquisitor for me, would you?"

Absidy wasn't sure she could say no to the spymaster, and so she nodded, carefully getting down, only to pause as her feet hit the ground a second before the spymaster's did.

"You know, I had not thought of coming up that way. It is much safer than what I did."

When Absidy looked at her to ask how she had come over to see her, the woman was already gone.

She wasted no time in heading up to the Inquisitor's room. While she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, to say, she didn't want to have Sister Nightingale showing up again, disappointed.

Despite the woman's nice words, she had heard far too many stories of what Sister Nightingale was capable of. And considering that she seemed to know everything that Absidy knew, she hadn't tried to argue that any of the points about herself were wrong.

She'd been wondering if she was going to make it through the day without poisoned coffee or anything of the sort when she reached the Inquisitor's chambers.

She'd hadn't bothered knocking, and so when she was presented with the current scene, she was at a loss.

Finley stood perched precariously on a stack of odds and ends, one hand almost black with coal and the words 'Suck an Egge' almost complete on her wall.

The look on her face… She looked like a child who had been caught. She could have been mistaken for one, were it not for the deep circles and hollow look in those eerie eyes of hers. She hadn't recovered much from her previous night's breakdown, it seemed.

"Sera said to misspell something for accuracy."

The words were out before she'd meant them to be, if the way she clicked her mouth shut was any indication. Her eyes widened slightly, body stiff—and not just from a night of poor sleep.

"You're working with Sera."

The Inquisitor opened her mouth to respond and then flinched, reaching up to cover her face and then scowling when she realized she was getting coal all over herself. "I…I told you. She felt she could do things that I can't and—"

"Do you need help?"

"I've got to try to get her signature right…" Finley murmured. For the first time, Absidy realized there was a paper stuck to the wall—without any apparent nail or pin. Magic, then? She'd never been quite comfortable with that. After all, the Chant said— "Would you want to trash my desk? I need it to look terrible."

Absidy's gaze slid toward the Inquisitor's desk. She'd been considering doing that very thing the day before, thinking that the Inquisitor had seemed to care more about it than her concerns with Sera. All her papers were stacked neatly.

"You…your work will be—"

"It'll make it harder to know which ones Sera stole when she went off on her own," Finley mumbled, sounding as though she didn't know whether she should try to maintain that she wasn't working with Sera or just give up. "She…wanted to help people, you know."

"And so do you."

"I…" Finley scowled and then rested her head against the wall for a long moment before looking back at Absidy. "I'd like to, but apparently nothing can be done simply here."

The two of them stood there in silence, watching the other. Finally, Absidy turned toward the desk, picked up a stack of papers, and dropped them on the ground. They scattered readily.

"Sera would do more than that," the Inquisitor mumbled, before turning back to her message.

With a disbelieving bubble welling up inside of her, Absidy turned and swept her arms across the desk.

By the time they'd finished, papers were in every corner of the room, across the bed, some precariously placed on the balcony. After the Inquisitor went to lay in her bed and then throw the sheets off to make it look like she'd woken up to the mess—and the message on the wall—she moved to the center of the room and nodded approvingly. "Sera would be proud."

"Sera would use bees, somehow."

"She would," the inquisitor nodded. "I'm not sure how she catches so many of them, though." She put her hands on her hips, drumming her fingers slowly. "I think…I'll just expect them for the next few days. She likes to throw people off, with the unexpected, too. No bees would be unexpected."

Absidy tilted her head to the side and offered a small nod. "The Orlesians might see through that."

The inquisitor let out a low growl as though she might say something about them, but instead just nodded. "I imagine they may." She looked at Absidy. "They only way they can prove that though, would be if you said something."

"Never," Absidy replied. "Sera's a good friend."

"She is," the inquisitor said, nodding once. "Better than most." She paused before turning to motion toward Absidy. "If you would…do you think you can storm out of here and tell anyone who asks that you're not cleaning up my mess when I deserve it? Maybe even tell a few people who don't ask?"

"I think I can manage that."

The Inquisitor nodded. "I'll…I do have to pick this up, don't I?" She started to turn away, but stopped as Absidy stretched her back. She was stiff from sitting out there in the cold all night, trying to figure out what to do about a problem that…maybe it wasn't one. "Do you mind magic?"

"What?"

The Inquisitor looked annoyed to have to repeat herself. "Magic. Does it bother you?"

The second Absidy shook her head, she felt the tension ease in her back and a few other places she'd hadn't yet noticed. The cold that had still been nipping at her fingertips was gone, too. "Thank you."

She felt guilty for being rewarded for a lie, though. She hadn't wanted to be rude, but magic did scare her. Always had. After all, the Chant…

Maybe what the Chant said about magic wasn't…quite right.

"You should heal yourself, too."

"I already have," the Inquisitor stated, voice a bit dry. By the time she was looking at Absidy again, her expression was carefully neutral.

"Right," Absidy murmured, and then remembered her role in all this. "Right!"

With that, she turned and walked to the door, pausing to look back at the small woman standing in the middle of the room, gaze on the message she'd written to herself as though she might believe she really did deserve all this.

Absidy didn't know what to say to that, and so she simply turned and left, taking the time to slam the door as well as she could before hurrying off.

She met the commander on the way down, looking as weary and sleep-deprived as the inquisitor. Neither of them looked like they'd had much fun the night before.

He hesitated as their gazes met.

Absidy wondered if she ought to tell him something meaningful, important…

But then, what could a maid say that would mean much to a general?

It felt like so little, but she said the only thing that readily sprung to mind and then swept past him, hoping that both his and the inquisitor's days would be pleasant.

"I'm not cleaning that up."