Trevelyan felt like she could have wandered the streets of Val Royeaux for a lifetime and still felt lost. It was a brightly colored puzzle, and not one that she was sure she wished to figure out. Solving a puzzle was rewarding; the vain politics of Val Royeaux was headache-inducing and so drastically different from what she had grown up with in the Free Marches.
"Snakes, all of them, hiding their forked tongues behind prettily-painted masks," Cassandra grumbled from her right. The raven-haired warrior had been sullen their entire trip, and Trevelyan was beginning to understand why the other woman had turned her back on a noblewoman's life – replacing Cassandra's sword with a scepter would be a bit like putting a dragon in a castle and expecting it to hold court.
"A viper's nest," Trevelyan agreed. At least they were on their way back to Haven, even if they did have to travel by ship to get back. Her stomach lurched at the thought. On the way to the grand city, Varric had tried to distract her from her queasiness by telling her stories, but it turned out that laughing in between heaving was really not much of a comfort.
Trevelyan supposed she should be used to the Inquisiton's bickering by now, though somehow it always surprised her how every decision had to be such a struggle.
"You really think the invitation with the mages could be a trap?" she asked Cassandra, trying to hide the incredulousness from her voice. Grand Enchanter Fiona had been nothing if not cordial and polite when they'd met her in Val Royeaux, and that civility hadn't seemed to have been a cover for any nefarious plans.
"A trap we could avoid by siding with the Templars instead," Cullen cut in pointedly, hands on his hips.
Both women ignored him.
"If some among the rebel mages were involved with what happened at the Conclave…" Cassandra suggested, trailing off with a frown, thoughts churning behind her dark eyes.
"The same could be said about the Templars," Josephine said amicably, ever the peace-keeping voice of reason.
Trevelyan almost felt dizzy from the circles they were arguing in. She stared down at the Chantry floor. "You will have to make a decision soon, either way," she pointed out, shaking her head.
Thankfully, that ended the stalemate. "True enough," Cullen agreed. "Right now I'm not certain we have enough influence to approach the Order directly." At the pointed look Leliana shot him, he added, "Or the mages, for that matter."
"Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places. That is something you can help with." Cassandra turned to Trevelyan, who was glad to finally have a concrete goal put forth.
"In the meantime, we should consider other options," Josephine said.
With that parting word, she, Cullen, and Cassandra dispersed. Leliana stayed behind, waiting for the others to get out of earshot before speaking.
"There is one other matter," the redhead said, stepping forward, and Trevelyan felt herself get nervous for some odd reason, her heart rate picking up.
Leliana tipped her head, and they started walking towards the Chantry door. "Several months ago, the Grey Wardens of Ferelden vanished. I sent word to those in Orlais, but they have also disappeared."
"Hmm." Trevelyan's brow furrowed. That seemed odd, though she supposed Wardens weren't the easiest to track down in peaceful, un-Blighted times.
"Ordinarily, I wouldn't even consider the idea they're involved in all this, but the timing is…curious." At Trevelyan's nod, she continued. "The others have disregarded my suspicions, but I cannot ignore it." Her voice hardened.
They reached the doorway and stared out at the village below. Watching Haven's villagers bustle about, Leliana said, "Two days ago, my agents in the Hinterlands heard news of a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall. If you have the opportunity, please seek him out. Perhaps he can put my mind at ease."
"And if he can't?" Trevelyan asked. She'd grown up revering the Wardens as heroes, so the question pained her to ask, but anything was possible, especially in times like these.
Leliana turned to her, frowning in thought. "Then there may be more going on than we thought." Trevelyan sincerely hoped that wouldn't be the case.
"I'll search for him." Trevelyan agreed readily.
Leliana nodded and turned away.
"Ah, um, Leliana?" Trevelyan fumbled. She always preferred to call people by their titles, a lingering effect of the manners drilled into her during her childhood, but the spymaster had so many that she was always unsure of which to use. Sister Nightingale? Sister Leliana? Spymaster? Left Hand?
Leliana stopped and turned back, a brow raised questioningly.
Trevelyan shuffled from foot to foot, running a hand through her long hair. "I, ah, I wanted to apologize. For…Butler, was it?"
Now both of Leliana's brows shot up, and it made Trevelyan feel even more self-conscious.
"I had no right to dictate to you how to do your own job. I imagine I seemed a fool, making a rash decision based on ideals rather than, well, facts." Trevelyan rubbed the back of her neck, shifting her gaze to the floor, a rueful smile on her face. "I don't retract my advice – I still think it was the right thing to do – but it was uncalled for even so."
She rifled through the pack hanging at her side, and standing there, Leliana was taken aback by the whole thing. She…was not used to apologies in her line of work. Well, apologies not given at knifepoint, at any rate. And this one was undeserved, truly. While at first she had been miffed at Trevelyan's intrusion, in time she realized she was grateful for it.
Trevelyan drew an object wrapped in paper out, and Leliana wasn't sure but she could've sworn she saw a blush staining the younger woman's cheeks as she handed it over.
"What…?" Leliana unwrapped the paper with hesitant fingers. "Shoes?" Indeed, they were powder blue satin shoes. She felt completely flabbergasted.
"A peace offering," Trevelyan replied, eyes still downcast. "I wasn't sure what to choose. I knew what gifts to get everyone else – tea for Josephine, a blade for Cullen. Cassandra said you liked shoes." Trevelyan chuckled. "She tried to help me pick some out, but between us we have atrocious fashion taste. Fortunately, the merchant, a dwarf, Tegrin or something, seemed to know you and gave us these." She cut off her rambling there and shot the red head a worried glance. "Ah, I suppose he could've been bluffing just to make a sale though." Why hadn't she thought of that before?
"No, I…" Leliana collected herself, and finally looked up from the shoes to meet Trevelyan's gaze. "They're perfect. You took me by surprise is all."
Trevelyan grinned, and Leliana was grateful for the levity. "The Inquisiton's own spymaster, surprised? It truly must be the end of times. But the secret shall stay between us." Her eyes glittered with such mirth that Leliana chuckled.
"Thank you, Herald."
