Elke was not sure where she was. She looked carefully at her left hand. It felt like she had tried to pull a poker out of a fire but the re-hot pointy end, but it no longer was glowing green, so that was an improvement. The manacles on her wrists suggested that things may not have improved by much, however. Groaning, she closed her eyes again, levered herself off of the stone floor with her elbows, pulled herself to a sitting position. She hissed as her back hit the icy granite blocks behind her. Her armor was gone, and the woolen padding she had been left with kept most of the cold away from her skin, but it was not enough to protect her bruises.
"You awake, then?"
Elke winced. Her head was pounding, but she forced her eyes open once more and looked up towards the source of the voice.
A man in dark armor frowned at her from the doorway.
"It seems so?" she replied weakly.
"Stay put," he ordered. He slammed the door as he marched out of the room, sending another stab of pain through her head.
She closed her eyes, willing the pain away. Whoever held her must have seen the explosion at the conclave. That she was in shackles meant they thought she might be involved. She needed to convince them, whoever it was, that she was not. To do that, she needed to be able to think.
She had made deals under bad situations. She had negotiated while exhausted, and once with a stab wound. She could do this now. She took a slow, deep breath. Her ribs ached, and the breath caught, but she forced herself to continue. She took another breath. Then another. Slowly, she built up a wall between her mind and the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her.
It didn't take very many breaths before the guards returned, however. She was careful not to resist when the soldiers stood on either side of her and lifted her under her arms. A wince and a hint of a limp, however, and their pace slowed considerably. It gave her time to clear her head, and she had enough bruises to suggest the limp was legitimate.
Her guards were puzzling. The woman to her left had a Templar chestplate, but to her right the man wore a Seeker's insignia. Templars and Seekers working together was unusual, but not unheard of, especially lately. The question was, however, were they still loyal to the Chantry, or those that had declared the Nevarran Accord null and void? She just didn't have enough information to tell yet, so best to keep her eyes open and her mouth closed.
They emerged from the cramped hallway into the huge main chamber of the ruins. The ceilings vaulted high overhead, but what was down on the floor interested her more. Soldiers congregated there. Exhausted and dirty, they were converting the ancient hall into a makeshift command post and camp. As tired as they looked, however, there were no injured. Perhaps any survivors were being kept in the small rooms down the side halls, but she couldn't imagine there would be more than a dozen or some of those. They, like her escorts, wore several different sets of armor, and some wore no insignia at all. Some caught sight of her, and they stopped and stared, whispering to those nearby. Her escort, however, pulled her away from the watching soldiers, and instead led her up a worn flight of marble stairs, then back out to another side hallway. Their leaders must have set up in another of the side rooms, then, away from the main camp.
Or she was being led to another secure room be tortured, but she preferred not to think much of that option. Surely they would ask questions in a civilized manner first.
To have any chance to negotiate her own release, she had be calm and confident. She must radiate surety that she would not be punished, for she had done no wrong. A smile? No, that would seem smug. She should present a neutral and attentive demeanor, then; a soldier come to report. They paused outside of a large set of double doors, and the guard on her right pounded the door twice. She flinched as the sound echoed in her head as badly as the hall, then squared her shoulders, wrapping the chains from her manacles into her fingers to keep them from rattling. The less reminders that she was bound, the better.
A female voice brusquely ordered them to enter, so the guards opened the doors and walked her through. Elke blinked as they entered. The room was larger than the one she had been held in, though still much smaller than the central chamber. The ceilings arched perhaps twenty feet up, and a large set of windows near the top allowed the setting sun to shine onto the floor below. A couple of sets of columns paraded down the center of the room. Two more sets of guards stood at attention, one at each column: honor guards, perhaps. At the end of the room, two armored figures stood together, conferring before a makeshift table comprised of two stone blocks and what looked like an overturned book shelf. Spread across it were all of her possessions.
The two armored figures turned as she drew nearer. One was a woman in Seeker armor, and the other was a man who did not have any particular insignia, aside from the Blade of Mercy on his bracers. Both were covered with dust and ash. Neither of the two people were familiar to her, unfortunately, so she still wasn't certain who she was dealing with. They had apparently been among the blasted ruins, personally joining the search for survivors perhaps and, since she was dealing with Seekers, likely looking for answers as well. That they had joined the soldiers in their search told her something of their character, though, didn't it?
The guards pulled her to a stop, so she stood, as calmly as she was able, as they both examined her. After a few moments, the man looked at the woman, plainly deferring to her. Silence stretched beyond what was strictly necessary to look each other over: the woman was trying to unnerve her with silence. She was familiar with the tactic, and knew to wait it out. The man sighed at the woman and raised an eyebrow, resting a hand loosely on the pommel of his sheathed sword. He wore the armor comfortably, as if he had lived in it. He was a trained warrior, then, and the armor was not just for show. The armored woman crossed her arms and scowled at Elke, unnervingly like she couldn't quite decide whether to speak to her or run her through. Elke met her eyes, and the woman's nostrils flared, so she dropped her gaze from the Seeker's; she could play meek if that would help. She needed to allow the Seeker to feel in control of the situation.
Elke looked down at her bruised, dirty, manacled arms. Yes, she needed to allow the Seeker to feel she was in control.
"Do you think this is funny?" The Seeker snapped.
Had Elke been smiling? Andraste's Flaming Sword! She set her face in polite contrition and stared at her hands. "No, Seeker."
The Seeker had a Nevarran accent. That rang a bell.
"I am Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast," the woman continued. Yes, that was the bell. At least Elke knew who she was dealing with now. "Do you know why you are here?"
"You are here trying to find out what happened at the conclave, and thought I might have some information?" Elke cautiously offered.
The Seeker snorted. "Thought you might? You WILL tell me what happened," she snapped.
"I am…not certain what happened," Elke replied.
"Lies!" Cassandra snarled. She pounded the makeshift table and Elke's possessions clattered. The Seeker gazed over the pieces of armor and odds and ends from her backpack then snatched up the sheathed sword, pulling it partially from its sheath. She turned the blade in the failing light as both she and the man examined the edge critically. "Well cared for," the man suggested.
Elke gave them a wary look, "Thank you? It was a gift from my…."
Cassandra motioned at them brusquely, and Elke bite off the rest of the sentence. The Seeker scowled at her for a moment, then strode forward. "What type of abomination are you?"
"An abomination? I am not an abomination! I assure you, I am no the threat to..."
"Bullshit!" The woman tossed Elke's head sideways with rough back-handed slap. The pain in her head turned her vision to gray for a moment as the Seeker continued. "You walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you, the only one who escaped the blast that killed thousands." Elke's eyes snapped up to the Seeker and she blinked to clear her vision, though the woman had her back to her as she paced away. The only one? The woman continued to speak, but Elke could barely hear her over the pounding of her own heart. The only one?
The only one?
"The only one?"
"What?" Cassandra snapped. It took Elke a moment to realize the words had actually left her lips.
She blinked up at the Seeker, her heart clenching. "I am the only survivor? Are you certain?"
"Why? Is there someone in particular you needed to die?"
Elke shook her head. How could they all be dead? If she had survived, surely someone else might have. Walked out of the Fade. They… probably hadn't survived the same way, of course. Maybe the Seeker's soldiers had just not found anyone because the survivors had already fled. Maybe the blast hadn't reached the outer camps. Killed thousands.
The hiss of steel brought her back to herself, but she barely had time to blink before a blade was at her throat and a fist was in her hair. She arched her back to try to get her neck away from the steel, but her already wobbly legs did not stand for that for very long, so she fell heavily to her knees. Cassandra, however, bore down on her even as she fell.
"What are you?" the Seeker demanded, "and what were you doing at the conclave?"
"My name is Elke Trevelyan." Tears started to blur her vision, helped in no small part by the pain in her scalp from the Seeker's grip. "I was part of the Chantry delegation."
"Cassandra," the armored man interrupted, "this hardly seems necessary…"
"I will have answers, Cullen," the Seeker replied, though her eyes never left Elke's face.
The physical pain pushed away the emotional shock, and kick-started her brain once more. Elke thought furiously before her eyes landed on the blade at her neck. "That's my sword," she told the Seeker.
Cassandra scowled at her and tightened the fist in her hair. "What? So?"
Elke squeezed the chains of her manacles tightly to keep her hands from shaking, causing the pain in her left hand to spike. Maker's Mercy, she hoped it didn't start glowing again, not now. "If…if you look on the blade near the pommel, you'll see my family's crest. You should have also found a signet ring on me with the same crest," she added, and tried to nod at the makeshift table with her belongings on it. "I swear to you, I am telling you the truth."
Cassandra's eyes flickered to the mark on the blade and back. "Or you may have stolen if from the true owner. Or the insignia means nothing at all."
Elke' forced her voice calm, though it still managed to tremble a bit despite her efforts. "My family members have entered service in the Chantry and Templars for generations. I was set to as well. I have," for a moment her voice betrayed her as grief squeezed her throat closed. "I HAD many family and friends among the delegation. I assure you, I had NOTHING to do with the explosion that killed them."
Cassandra glared at her, little more than the width of the blade between their faces. What did she know of Cassandra that might help? Her mind raced. Stories said she killed several dragons saving the Divine years ago, though only the Maker knew how much those tales could be trusted. She came from a dragon hunting noble house of Nevarra. Rumors insisted that she entered service into the Seekers because her brother was killed by blood mages. Ah! Family.
"Might I ask a boon, Seeker?"
Cassandra's face screwed up in irritation. "You're hardly in a position to ask for a boon."
"I noticed, truly." The Seeker's expressed turn from irritation to anger, so Elke hurried on, "If you plan to kill me, please send my things back to Ostwick with some explanation on why you felt I needed to die. It might set mother's heart at ease to understand."
The Seeker's brow furrowed. "You can't be serious."
Elke called on all of her will to keep her voice steady as she met Cassandra's eyes. "I am completely serious, Seeker."
Cassandra made a disgusted sound of exasperation, released Elke's hair, and removed the blade from her throat. The Seeker paced away a few steps then turned on her again, pointing at Elke with her own sword. "This makes no difference. Perhaps this IS who you used to be. That doesn't matter NOW. People do not just walk out of the Fade," Cassandra snarled back.
"Not normally."
"Are you a demon then?"
"No!"
"How do you expect us to believe that?"
"Maker's Breath! BECAUSE IT IS THE TRUTH!" Silence descended on the room as the echoes from her voice died on the stone. Cassandra was staring her down, eyes blazing, while Cullen stood back, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.
"Allow me, Cassandra." Another woman startled Elke by stepping out of the deepening evening shadows. She was dressed in leather with a sword at each hip, but it was the fact that Cassandra relented with a huff and motioned the newcomer to proceed that really got Elke's attention. She focused on the woman warily as she approached. The newcomer was Orlesian from the accent, and walked with confident grace. Something about the way the woman studied her made Elke's hackles raise, despite the woman's apparently calm and friendly demeanor. Elke struggled back to her feet, stifling a groan as her muscles protested the action, and the woman waited patiently for her to rise before speaking again.
"You said that you are of the Trevelyan family, yes?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.
Elke took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Yes."
"A younger child or an heir?"
"The youngest. Not an heir."
"Tradition would hold that you join the Chantry or the Order, I believe, and yet, you do not seem to be a Sister, and your armor," she said, motioning to the makeshift table behind her, "is not that of a Templar."
"Yes, there have been…complications," Elke responded carefully.
"Really? Sounds mysterious," she said with a small smile and a mischievous tone. "I'd like to hear about it."
Cassandra scoffed. "Leliana, have you looked at the sky recently? We don't have time to hear life stories."
"Uh-uh," the woman chastised, keeping her eyes on Elke even as she addressed the Seeker behind her, "it's my turn now, Cassandra." The woman, Leliana, smiled briefly once more as Cassandra grumbled in disgust, then looked at Elke expectantly. What was she after? Elke knew that most people find themselves an endlessly fascinating subject, and asking someone about their past was useful to get someone talking and feeling friendly. Perhaps the woman was drawing Elke into a conversation about herself in order to slip her up, or cushion further questions? Regardless, despite her headache, a battle of wits was a fight she was better armed to have than a physical one.
"Well, the first delay was one of my brothers," Elke began. "My eldest brother chose his wife quickly enough, but my elder sister developed magical abilities, so my second brother was expected to fulfill his role as second. He is…well, frankly, my brother is a bit of a cad. It took a great deal of effort on my parents' part to get him safely married off before they could focus on me." Her mind raced even as she spoke. Was this Leliana another Seeker? There was a Leliana rumored to have been a companion of the Hero of Ferelden, but what would she being doing here?
"About the time I would have been given to the Chantry," Elke continued, "word of a Blight came up from Ferelden, along with hordes of refuges."
"And that stopped you from joining as a Sister?" Leliana interrupted with apparent dismay, "You could have offered them comfort."
"I could have, yes, but Blights are dangerous things, and my parents feared that they might lose their sons to it. In that case, I would be needed to…continue the family line, as it were, which a full Sister could not do. So instead of was sent as an Affirmed."
"Ah," the woman replied, smiling blandly once more. "I was an Affirmed for a while myself."
Elke nodded, and offered a neutral smile in return. "As an Affirmed, I aided the Chantry in caring for the refugees as best as I could. I had not been trained as a healer, so I spent my time negotiating with merchants for supplies for the refugees, resolving petty disputes among those in the Chantry's care, and asking for donations from the nobility I had contacts with – things of that nature. Then, the flood of refugees nearly stopped, and word came that the Blight was over. It seemed an amazing feat – a Blight stopped in a mere year!" the woman nodded. Was that pride in her eyes. Had Elke guessed correctly that this was THAT Leliana or not? Hard to tell, as the expression was gone as quickly as it came.
"But once the Blight was gone, then you would have been free to join as a Sister, would you not?" the woman prodded.
Elke shrugged one shoulder. "Yes, but, well, people generally had doubts that it could really be over so quickly. And by 'people', I mean my parents. There were still tales of darkspawn attacks – on the city of Amarathine, for example. So, I stayed on as an Affirmed for…quite some time."
"But what did you do, now that the refugees no longer came?"
"What most Affirmed do, I suppose, when it is quiet. I cleaned. I studied. I prayed. I even gave advice to many of my peers who thought, somehow, that donning Affirmed robes gave me some great insight. Not that it took a lot of insight to give advice to them, to be perfectly honest. Matters of great import went to the Revered Mothers or one of the Sisters. I was left with things like: 'Oh, Elke. Ser Robert's second born will not agree to a marriage. Should I spend the night with him to ensure his answer?'; 'Elke, I have made plans with Lady Merenet to her salon for the evening, but Lady Berel has invited me to her home for a ball that night. Should I attend both?'; 'Elke! I have met the most engaging man at the tavern last night! Should I throw caution to the wind and run away with him?' Frankly, I took up the study of rhetoric mostly to learn new and interesting ways to say, 'Don't be stupid'."
Leliana smiled with what appeared to be real amusement this time. Behind her, once of her escorts snickered, a sound they quickly choked off when Cassandra glared at them. Cullen stood with one arm crossed against his chest and the other propped up so that his hand was in front of him mouth. Was he smiling? Pensive? If she could get two out of three of these people sympathetic, perhaps she might live through the night yet. She offered a short prayer that it might be the case.
Leliana motioned to Elke's armor, "This are not the robes of a Sister."
"No. I eventually decided not to take vows. I felt if I were to minister as a Sister, I would need more love in my heart when I did so, and less," she paused to consider. Irritated? Short? Disgusted?
"Sarcastic?" Leliana offered.
Elke tilted her head thoughtfully, shrugged and nodded. Close enough.
"I had moved back to the family home for a while," she continued, "but then there was a Qunari attack on Kirkwall." A noticeable reaction from the man, Cullen. That was interesting. "We of Ostwick take that sort of thing VERY seriously," she continued, trying to trying not to look at him while she continued her story. There was a Knight-Captain named Cullen from Kirkwall. The same one, perhaps? She paused for a moment. Where was she? Ah yes. "My father tried to take me back as an Affirmed once more, but the Revered Mother, very rightly, informed him that 'the Chantry was not a cupboard to store potential heirs for later retrieval'."
Elke was warming up to the story now. She glanced briefly behind her, and knew she had the rapt attention of even the honor guards at the columns.
"So, I spent the next year or so training swordsmanship. My uncle, a full knight in the templars, was based in the Chantry, so he was often at the house and he gave me pointers when he could. Sword training from a Templar, I should emphasize, not training AS a Templar. Apparently there were secrets I was not to know. I said it wrong once. My uncle boxed my ears, and told me if I ever misled people about my training again, intentionally or not, he would stuff me in Sister robes, truss me like the silly goose I was, and trot me around the Free Marches until he found a Chantry who would take me."
Elke paused. Cullen had a wry smile. He WAS a Templar then, or had been. Interesting.
"He was kidding, of course," she continued. "At least, I'm fairly certain he was," she added thoughtfully. "Regardless, I needed to make myself useful as well, so I started helping with family business in ways much like I had already done for the Chantry: negotiating purchases, hearing minor petitions, and the like. By the Maker's Mercy, I had less cause to give personal advice. After I grew competent with a sword, I was given leave to tour the countryside with some of our family's soldiers and take the negotiations to the field, as it were."
"Is this rambling accomplishing anything?" Cassandra interjected impatiently.
Elke paused to look from Cassandra to Leliana and back. If she needed to stop, had she done enough to change their attitudes? Leliana smiled again and turned to Cassandra, "I am actually learning quite a bit. Just be patient a little longer, if you please." Then she looked back at Elke and motioned for her to continue.
Elke considered a moment. "Well, it did take a few years after Kirkwall rebuffed the Qunari attack before we decided it didn't herald a full scale war, so my uncle convinced me that I should put forward my petition to join the Templars. He left to arrange things, but while he was gone the order declared themselves free of Chantry, and the Nevarran Accord null and void…which I'm sure you are aware."
All three of the people before her frowned and nodded, varying level of disapproval evident. She carefully gauged their reactions as she continued.
"My father was outraged. He felt the order had betrayed the Divine." Approving looks from Cullen and Cassandra. A carefully neutral look from Leliana. "I agreed, but did not wish to join the Chantry as a Sister. This caused…some divisiveness in the household. We remained at that impasse for a couple of years, and I continued my duties as a negotiator on behalf of the family, until my uncle sought me out again a couple of months ago." Had it only been that long? It seemed like a lifetime ago already.
"Ah, so this uncle brought you to the conclave?" Leliana asked.
Elke nodded. "He felt my experience in negotiating would help." Despite herself, she felt her heart sink. "I had hoped I could help. I hoped to be…useful at something more important than negotiating where one man's field ends and another's begins." She shook herself and continued. "Father was against it, but I prevailed upon him the wisdom of me going." She titled her head and forced a small smile. "There might have been some screaming involved, but he saw my side eventually."
"And then you came here?"
Elke nodded.
"What happened at the conclave?
"The negotiations went about as well as can be expected. It doesn't matter anymore, I suppose." Elke frowned down at her hands. "Both sides will blame the other for what happened, and things will be worse than ever."
"And the explosion?"
Elke shrugged. "I don't know what happened."
"The Fade?"
"I don't know."
"Leliana, this is ridiculous." Cassandra interrupted. "We've lost all of this time, and we have no more information on what we NEED to know than before!"
"Why Cassandra, we know a great deal more than we knew before!" Leliana turned a suddenly sharp gaze on Elke. "For instance, look how she stands. Despite her pains and bruises, she refused to kneel for very long, and stood as soon as she was able. Look how she grips the chains of her manacles so they do not rattle."
Cassandra looked confused. "So?"
"It is because she desires not to appear as a supplicant. She is asserting her position as a noble woman come to clear things up, rather than a prisoner entreating for her life, do you see?"
"Or I thought it would be rude to clatter while we were talking?" Elke offered. Leliana narrowed her eyes briefly, then smiled.
"She also makes jokes," Leliana continued, "but it is not out of nervousness, no. She watches the reactions of everyone around her very carefully. She does it for us. To put us at ease, yes? To make us think, 'Ah, this is a nice woman. We should not treat her badly.'"
"Well, I AM a nice woman," Elke responded lightly, even as her heart dropped. All present were now frowning at her thoughtfully.
"Then all she has said is a lie?" Cullen said incredulously.
"I do not think so. I think she spoke only the truth." She tilted her head at Elke. "Isn't that so?"
Elke tilted her head. "'And she said unto him, let the truth be like a shield.'"
Leliana wrinkled her nose in amusement. "You are quoting the Chant of Light to me?"
"I did spend several years as an Affirmed."
The woman shook her head and started to slowly pace back and forth. "I am curious, however. You remember when you brought up the breaking of the Neverran Accords, yes?"
Elke frowned and nodded slowly.
"You watched carefully for our reactions when you brought it up. Only then did you continue. What would you have said if, after you mentioned it, that we seemed hostile to your father's opinion? Would you have lied then?"
Cassandra's gaze turned fierce as a hawk's and Cullen's brow had furrowed. Elke sighed. This verbal dissection was worse than just standing around in her small clothes. "I doubt you will believe me, but no." She tried not to sulk as she continued. "I would have omitted my opinion on the matter, and focused on my uncle's. He was…more sympathetic to splitting the Templars from Divine control. It is why my father fought so hard to keep me from coming to the conclave with him."
Lelianna nodded in understanding. "Of course. I believe you."
Elke gave her a suspicious look.
"I do!" she protested. "And you are very good, I must say. It is little wonder your family looks to you to negotiate for them. But you have not had training as a bard."
"If anyone might have thought to provide me such training in the past, they likely heard me singing once, and decided I was a lost cause," Elke replied dryly. There was no amusement now from the others present. Maker have mercy, for she had lost them.
"Enough of this," Cassandra growled. She grabbed for her own sword, but Cullen stepped forward, pulling her back. She snarled at him, and jerked free, but came no closer. "I want the whole truth, this time," she demanded. "Not pretense."
Elke bowed her head. The wall she had built wavered, and all of the fear and pain and loss she was holding back threatened to wash over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to hold the flood to a bearable trickle.
"My uncle was there," she said. Her voice was hoarse now, but that was unavoidable now. "He doted on his brother's daughters – my sister and I. Spoiled us really, but…he would have sacrificed us, I think, if it would have brought order back to the world." She cleared her throat. She was rambling, but no one, not even Casandra, made a sound. "Erik was there. My father assigned him as my guard captain. He was charged with keeping safe both my life and my…virtue. They were both there. Then, between one heartbeat and the next…they were gone."
She looked back up at Cassandra and met her eyes. Elke held her gaze, and let her see what she was feeling. "No pretense."
Cassandra nodded.
"I don't know why I lived and they…did not. I remember…a flash of light. The landscape…the whole world was wrong. Twisted. The creatures I saw…I fought…impossible things. I don't know what happened, not really. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe it was the result of a sharp rap to the head, or…maybe…."
"Being blown into the Fade?" Cassandra finished archly.
Elke frowned at her for a moment, and shrugged. "Or…that. Yes. I suppose. I can't…can't say for sure what was real, so I can't tell you what happened with any certainty."
"Elke," this time it was Cullen who spoke, and strangely, his expression had softened. "Tell us what you remember, and perhaps we can help you separate what is real from what is not."
The sympathy in his eyes did what Cassandra's threats and Leliana's clever words did not. Her wall broke and everything came rushing in. Tears swam in her vision and she had to look away from him. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice refused to respond. Impatient with herself, she bent her head to her upper armor and used the rough wool of her shirt to scrub the tears off of her face. She cleared her throat, and forced the words out.
"It all started right after we arrived…."