Chapter 3: Culture Shock
The rest of their travel to Minrathous had returned to boring and mundane although more people had taken to staring at her more often and boldly. Some even inquired Dorian if she was his property. Her hackles had raised and the closer to the capital they became the more irritated she was in turn. By the time they had arrived the season had fully morphed and trees had begun to change their color and shed a few layers.
"Oh...oh my…," Lavellan gasped as she saw the walls of Minrathous near. The coast was calm, but the sea waves still crashed against the beaches in the distance. A few forests had edged the well worn traveling path but had cleared about a mile back. She had imagined a large wall, ornate like Orlais but this...this was different.
Tall, imposing walls made of brick stood in the distance with towers every few meters looking out over the land. In place of the gold and white of Orlais these walls had dark, worn brick the color of rust. Warriors and mages guarded the wall and a few farming homes lay on the outskirts but near enough to feel the protection of the guards. For now the portcullis into the city was open and the guards seemed a bit bored, monitoring the travelers coming in.
Growing tired of the looks thrown her way Lavellan had taken to wearing her hair down to cover her ears as well as a hood she would pull up around her face. Her thick armor helped to hide her lithe frame but the guards still stared down at them as Dorian and her walked past them into the bustling city.
Noises and smells had already assaulted her before they had crossed inside the city and she gazed at the awe inspiring structures, her neck craning to look up and around. Some were beautiful and intricate, first and foremost catching her eye was a cathedral into the distance but still near. She could recognize the build but the pillars were far sharper and more detailed than those she had seen as if the builder put the details into the frame, not in the paint as Orlais did. A large statue sat within the central pillar and just beneath that a full scene was carved within the stone itself. Deep within a desire to crawl up the pillars and reach to touch the scene filled her, the artistry was magnificent. That was only one of the vast buildings around her.
"Dorian..." she said, her voice tight in reverence as she looked to the other side, seeing simpler structures but each with a pride of its own. A small pub nearby had a subdued caramel color but deep, dark wooden shutters opened that revealed fine curtains. Attached was a small dining area that had benches separated from the throng of public by an ornate black iron fence. "...I've never seen such architecture."
"Yes, despite all the things people say about Tevinter and us Magisters, few fail to remember we've quite the architects and artists," Dorian said, a hint of pride edging his voice. "My home is just down this path he revealed, gesturing further down the brick road that also held the pub she had noticed, a sign on the fence read, "Burne's Bowl".
For some time they passed a few more of these buildings, a few even painted different colors burnt orange with designs along the bottom in black or dark red. Every so often a passerby would wave to Dorian and gaze briefly at Lavellan before continuing on in the hustle and bustle of the city, it felt like a hive with people buzzing by so quickly. She was trying to take it all in, the sights and the exotic smells that made her stomach quiver in anticipation for a meal. For a moment she forgot why she was her, what had brought her so far beyond the thrill.
And then she was reminded quickly.
Up ahead there was shouting and at first she was confused, a mob of people stood around a platform chattering excitedly. The large crowd was full of energy and on the wooden platform before her was a man garbed in dark, black armor, his helmet open revealing just enough to show dark green eyes. Another few guards stood on either side in similar armor but less embellished, with only one other man on stage with the guard. This man was obviously a wealthy merchant, wearing fine trousers and a blouse in fashion similar to Dorian's she had seen on occasion. He was an alright man in appearance, tanned and muscled, but with sandy blonde hair pulled into a loose braid. She wondering if his family had planned that in their 'pedigree' for his eyes were a brilliant blue as if taken from the sky.
"What is going on?" she questioned Dorian, grabbing his hand as she turned to the scene. Her gaze on the other man, she did not see Dorian pale considerably.
"It's a sale."
"What are they selling?" she asked, and just as she turned to look at Dorian after he had been silent a moment too long, the merchant opened his mouth. A feeling of dread had filled her before and hearing his liquor smooth words did nothing to stop the fear.
"Good day, my lovely people. Is it not a fine day to see only the greatest the Maker has provided us for labor and assistance in our times of need! I must say, in all my time here, this batch is one of the finest collection of stock we've ever had! Bring them forward!" he shouted, his eyes shining bright and a few people whispered amongst themselves about the people that came out.
Abject horror suffused Lavellan's body as she saw the 'stock' come out. She hadn't seen the small pens past the crowd or the people that were chained neck to neck that came up to the platform. Each and every one had little clothing to cover their body, all of them kept their eyes downcast with their lips sealed tight. First up were men, at least four of them elves and two humans, one of the humans had a fresh welt along his hip. Her hand twitched towards the sword Dagna had enchanted for her, Dorian saw the move and held her hand.
"We should go, Lavellan," he suggested, watching her eyes fill. Someone to the left of them was staring and she didn't care. Turning to Dorian, her face seething and her red eyes ablaze she gritted through her teeth.
"I'm not LEAVING yet," she snarled, pushing his hand away. Slowly, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled, trying to calm herself as the outburst had caused two other nearby strangers to stare at her. Dorian kept quiet, even after all this time she had never seen him look so uncomfortable – and to be honest she could care less. "Can we buy any of them?" she finally asked, watching as the merchant sold of one of the elves and the wounded human.
"...perhaps a few, but...there are so many," he confessed, "They usually have three waves of each slave type. Usually by young males, young females, children, and then the elderly." Lavellan's frown deepened and she began to think Dorian's suggestion might be best. Standing here, wanting to slaughter all these people and the seller...it would do nothing for their future if she failed here. Her eyes tracked the crowd, finally seeing the other "stock" available and she heard the echoes of another bid.
"Take me away from here," she agreed, feeling shame and despair flood her. Dorian grabbed her hand and pulled her from the crowd, gently but briskly pulling her along. She couldn't look with admiration at the architecture anymore or the allure of their exotic fashion. All she could see in her mind were the eyes...beneath the spirits might linger, but the body had shutdown the windows to the soul for protection.
Was that what Solas felt like all the time?
The rest of their walk was silent until they arrived before an eloquent, three-storied estate. Lavellan was stone faced but noted the guards flanking the arched entryway which opened before the travelers had made it up the wide, stone steps leading to the door. A woman in a tightly fitted black gown decorated with golden lace stepped from the shadowy depths of the home. Black hair was pulled up in a crown braid with bits of gray intermingling.
"Dorian," she said, her chocolate eyes sparkled and she smiled gently. Her arms spread out to her son and Dorian sighed then smiled.
"Mother," he called out, slowly walking up to embrace her.
It was touching to Lavellan, seeing them hold each other after such a long absence and a bitter parting between Dorian and his family. The female Pavus clenched him slightly within her arms and then released. After stepping back a moment she began to speak rapidly and soon, despite all her charm and fancy, Lavellan was reminded of a mother hen.
"What were you thinking, darling, coming all this way on foot and mount? And look at your clothes, they are so worn and dirty – if you could use our names to charge for fresh mounts you may as well have bought you and your companion a set of better traveling clothes!" she chastised him and then turned to greet Lavellan, "Now introduce me to your guest."
While the reunion had been sweet, Lavellan didn't miss the slight glimmer of surprise in the woman's eyes when she finally looked upon her and she knew her eyes had shifted to her ears.
"This is my friend Leone. She'll be just staying this evening and then will be opening her shop tomorrow. Despite her size, she's quite the formidable swordsman and has saved my lovely neck more times than I can count," Dorian embellished, stroking his long neck purposely as his mother sighed, rolling her eyes at him. Turning to Lavellan, Dorian supplied her with, "This my dear friend is Victoria Pavus, my dear mother."
The two women shook hands a bit stiffly and Lavellan was impressed the woman managed so well – it seemed she was still a bit taken aback by her son's elven companion.
"Your rooms were prepared, Mona will lead you both. And you and I son," she said, placing a stiff hand on his shoulder, "We shall have a family discussion this evening. I have heard little from you and most of what I've heard have been rumors except for the contact your father was able to make."
"Yes, yes. May I go wash now, while I may be a work of art I still sweat and smell like foul shit at the moment," Dorian said plainly and his mother gasped only a bit.
"Be sure to wash that mouth as well, I pray Ferelden hasn't made you abrasive," she said, frowning and from the shadows came Mona. Lavellan's hands twitched slightly and the memory of the slave auction was too fresh to ignore. This slave woman was dressed impeccably and even looked similar to the noble Pavus woman, but her demeanor was incredibly submissive and she only looked up sparingly at the three of them as she walked forward. It began to infuriate Lavellan and she began to wonder how many slaves the Pavus family kept.
"This way, master," Mona said, tipping her head forward and turning to lead the two inside.
At least the man blanched slightly but followed the slave woman nonetheless and Lavellan wanted to choke with the anger building inside. All she could think of was slavery and thus missed any of the beauty to be had in the bold, vibrant paintings that adorned the walls and the elaborate tile designs in the floor. Instead everything appeared dirty and tainted as the beautiful woman leading them walked with her head tilted downward and silent. She was human, tanned but a bit broader in the shoulders than Dorian's mother. Instead of black hair, hers was a dirty blonde and braided in a plait.
A few halls and doors down Mona stopped and turned to them and Lavellan was able to view her face once more, the green eyes and freckles upon them.
"Here are your rooms, master and guest. Others have finished preparing your baths, just ring a bell and we shall come to clean and remove the bathing tubs," Mona informed the mage and champion. She began to walk away and Lavellan turned to Dorian.
"How many slaves are in this house?" she inquired, trying to keep her voice stable.
"...probably at least thirty…," he revealed, tapping his right foot lightly and crossing his arms.
"Did this never occur to you as being wrong, Dorian? That woman who just left was human, herself. One of your own?" she questioned, her own arms crossing. His lips turned down with his mustache.
"Now, it is far more apparent but when this is the live and society you've been a part of since birth...it is difficult to see the issues," he conceded, lines furrowing above his brow.
Lavellan stood silently for a moment then spoke again.
"Please, I do not wish to dine and have a group of servants waiting on me this evening. I am honestly more overwhelmed than I'd like to admit. Please send some fruit and bread, I just wish to bathe and sleep. Today...today has been too much," she confessed, her lips trembling. Dorian's arms uncrossed and he came to hold her but she twitched just slightly so he stopped.
"Do not worry, Beasty," he said softly, "I am a fool for not thinking how shocking it would be, this is a vastly different society than any you have been part of so far."
"I don't wish to be part of one like this," she stated firmly, and timidly moved to wrap her arms around him and then embraced him. "Thank you for accompanying me here to the capital," she said and withdrew, his arms releasing her so she may enter her room.
"Think nothing of it my dear. I hope I can show off more of Minrathous to you in...better circumstances," he confessed, his face more solemn than she had seen. At this time she was too fatigued to comfort him and nodded with a fake smile before she closed the door behind her.
He covered his face with both hands, his shoulders drooping and a servant down the hall called out to him, "Master Pavus?"
"It's nothing," he said gently, removing his hands from his face and turning down the ornate, empty hall.
Within her room, Lavellan signed and made it halfway to the bed before she collapsed to her knees. Frustrated tears squeezed from between her lids and her chest ached, for once her thoughts didn't broach the topic of Solas. Her mind kept replaying the scene of the 'market' and it horrified her. The Exalted Marches….that had been painful, but they were also history. Slave markets in Tevinter, those had been mentioned and discussed. This was one of the first times she had seen the extent of what her less empowered brethren were reduced to. A darkness coursed rapidly within her veins and she focused on steadying her breathing as she removed her layers of armor.
In her mind she missed the calm serenity of the room. A small, warm desk settled by a window with pine green shutters that filtered light through the faint vines crossing it. Her bed was simple but of the same wood as the smooth chocolate desk. Plump pillows lay against the headboard and flowers had been placed in the vase on her nightstand. Just as she had set aside the armor carefully a gentle rapping came at her door.
"Miss, are you decent?" softly came from beyond it.
"Yes, you may enter," Lavellan replied, pulling her traveling boots off. Two maids walked in carrying first a small wooden tub and then they both walked back out to fetch the steaming water buckets. Quickly they came and left just as silently, leaving behind some worn towels for the strange elf in the room. Neither had dared to glance at her too long, she took note, and both seemed to be relatively healthy in appearance. There was little else that Lavellan could think to do at this time, soon enough she'd have her hands full so she plunged into the steaming water. Its heat stung a bit but after a few seconds her body relaxed and she rinsed the grime and dirt from her body's crevices and her long locks.
"Perhaps I should just chop it all off," she mused, getting annoyed with the clumps of loose hair in her hand. Initially, she thought she had done well keeping clean most of the trip but observing the water after proved her quite wrong as it had turned cloudy from her bathing. Part of her felt ashamed she had enjoyed it so when she saw the servants come. At first she went to assist them in moving the tub but one of them had gently whispered to her.
"Please, mistress, we'll get in trouble if we don't show proper courtesy to the guests," was her soft warning and she gently patted Lavellan's callused hand away. With that, Lavellan waited for them to leave and she lay in her soft bed brooding over how to calm her riotous feelings. Exhaustion abruptly solved her problems, for with the traveling, stress and anxiety had worn her down so that the moment her head fell against those plump pillows she had plunged into a deep sleep.
In her dreams she saw the wolf in the distance as always...within reach but not quite. Tonight thought she didn't have the energy and she simply sat down and fell back. It was her dream after all, perhaps her brain was playing tricks or it might be him truly, but in her own dreams she would find rest.
Morning broke through faster than Lavellan had hoped. Her recent memories flooded her bitterly so her mood was already a tad bitter on awakening. It was Dorian's voice that had roused her so early.
"Darling, we'll be having breakfast shortly. I'll come back to fetch you and escort you to the dining room," he shouted through the door. Groaning, Lavellan opened her satchel, pulling out the spare clothes she had saved for now. She'd be placed in her new hiding spot soon, so she'd be able to wash the clothes she had worn for days upon days soon. Feeling impatient she dumped the satchel out and collected the breast band, underclothes and blouse.
Suddenly she froze.
Her mind was flooded with confusion but she then she remembered. This satchel – Cole had found it left behind he had said. She had thought he meant a merchant or traveler. But among her pile of clothes she now saw a smooth, weathered wolf's jawbone with straps of leather intertwined about it like a pendant. His necklace. Just as quickly she pushed everything she wasn't using back into the satchel, her face burning as Dorian's voice came through the door again.
Breakfast was a congenial affair, Dorian's mother was polite and enchanting. Her voice held a feminine lilt that mimicked Dorian's own inflections but with a sharper eye and lids that fluttered more graciously when she spoke. In comparison Dorian's father who appeared later into the meal was more reserved and quiet, speaking occasionally but otherwise supporting his wife's conversation.
"Where are you off to today, son?" his father inquired once the servants had come to remove their empty plates from the dining table. Lavellan could not help but organize her plate and silverware in a simple manner at least as the servants gathered the clutter.
"I'll be escorting Leone here to her new merchant shop, her partner has already invested in the building so it's pretty much up and running," Dorian explained, sipping steaming tea from the cup before him.
"Impressive, my dear," his mother said excitedly, "What's the name of your shop? Have you decided?"
"I allowed my partner to choose and surprise me," Lavellan stated, her mind hoping her mysterious contact had done well since settling into the shop.
"We shall make time to visit then," Victoria decided adamantly. "Dorian of course will lead us."
"Yes, mother. I do believe we shall be leaving soon, though. I will return before evening," Dorian provided her a notice, finishing his cup of tea with a final sip. Then he stood from the table as his mother pouted ever so slightly.
"Well, next time feel free to stay with us longer," Victoria suggested, her jeweled hand gesturing openly to Lavellan. "I know we have only had a few moments together," she said with a smile, placing a hand on her chest, "But I would like to get to know you better at another time, darling."
"Yes, of course. I appreciate you allowing me to impose on you for an evening," Lavellan said, following Dorian to the threshold of the dining room.
"It was no imposition at all. My dear Mona, please bring the small bundle of snacks and food for Dorian and his guest."
"Oh, madam, you don't need -
"Shhh, my dear child. You're moving somewhere new and exciting, think of it as a welcoming gift," Victoria endeared Lavellan as Mona came with a small wrapped bundle. "It's fresh scones, bread, some fruits and other random finds that we could have wrapped quickly."
"Thank you," Lavellan responded and turned to rush after Dorian who had already gone up the staircase to his room to collect his armor and such. Servants had just begun to bustle around the halls when Lavellan came out again, her shining armor and sword catching the eye of a few servants who had mastered the art of watching out of the side of their eyes. Only one was fresh enough that her mouth opened slightly as Lavellan walked past. Groaning quietly Lavellan figured the idea of a free elf was exotic enough let alone a 'merchant' elf garbed in some of the finest armor this side of the continent.
"Ready, Beasty?" Dorian called out, "I'm aging in this drafty house waiting on you." He smirked as she came down the steps slowly, him placing his hand on his hip in an exaggerated fashion.
"Perhaps that's because you are old," she said, standing eye to eye with him.
"Ooooh! I can see the draft in this house not only has left you chilled but chilled your heart as well," he said, snubbing her as he turned. "Let us go, find this mysterious contact of yours," he said in a much lower tone so only her elf ears could pick it up. While the stay had been the most luxurious since leaving Skyhold, Lavellan was eager to leave this manor and join the throng of people outside in the streets. "What is the address to your little shop, then?" Dorian questioned her as they both stood and took in the morning thrum of activity.
"It's located at 24 Tidar Lane, in the downtown area I was told," Lavellan supplied.
"Hmmm, a decent walk, but nothing compared to our trek here," Dorian teased, "Come, darling, follow me. I know the way easily enough."
Just to his left side she stayed near the mage as they made their way through. There had only been a few people on the lane his family's manor existed, but as they made their way back to the center of Minrathous the surge of citizens increased tenfold and Lavellan kept a tight position near him. A few people shouted and yelled over the noise here. Luckily once they had passed through the central market and took a few turns the amount of traffic diminished.
As they followed the roads that had narrowed just slightly, the shops looking a bit more worn and the solemn buildings also looking less imposing she noticed that less citizens glanced her way. They carried about their business in a strict way, looking only ahead and the few she did make eye contact with showed little to no interest in her.
Without any words she knew they had entered an area with less wealth and attention.
A few questionable characters had peered at the duo who had quality gear, but the aura of Dorian and Lavellan – not to mention their weapons – kept all of those with skill away.
But of course...not all thieves were smart.
"We're almost there," Dorian had said gleefully, turning to Lavellan only to groan loudly as he glanced over her shoulder, "Can't take you anywhere, can I?" His arm swiveled quickly to hold out his staff as Lavellan sidestepped and turned to face their enemies.
A trio of young men had approached, their worn leather kept together like patchwork and their unshaven faces drawn in gloom and anger. The leader of the group had a long, greasy ponytail and snarled at the two travelers, "Look, a magister and his whore slave come to visit us rank and file." He was the largest of the men but the shifty, smaller one flanking the leader worried Lavellan slightly more. His face reminded her of Cole and his eyes were focused. Deftly she readied her sword and shield.
"Perhaps we could take a rain check today? I'm rather tired," Lavellan said with a sigh, in no mood for bigotry and wasting energy.
"Shut it, elf!"
"Goodness me, I've never heard that before," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. The leader charged at them and she slammed her sword boldly against her shield, yelling and shocking them for a moment. Dorian had already set up a flaming mine on either side of her for the enemies and she crashed swords with the leader who was even larger closer up. Perhaps twice her size, she noted, before slamming her shield into his chest and knocking him back. His sword came up to strike, but it was too late for she had slashed his neck. She kept her eye on the shifty one who had come at her with dual knives but now rushed the third member, an archer.
The archer had been shooting at Dorian and he was frustrated, waiting for his magic to recharge.
Just as she knocked the archer down to the ground and he had sobbed for mercy she relented. While he had been sincere, in that moment the shifty thug she had noted appeared instantly at her side and thrust one his blades into the flesh of her thigh. Somehow it penetrated her armor and cut into her flesh like butter. She cried out sharply in pain.
"Lavellan!" Dorian shouted, summoning a fireball.
Just as he was about finish the summon and Lavellan had firmly turned her shield to defend herself, a dark figure leapt from the alleyway and brought one of the largest swords she'd ever seen down on the thief with a grunt.
Keeping her shield up in defense and joining Dorian who had his staff ready she watched the stranger stand up. He was frowning and kicked at the corpse to insure it was dead before pulling the sword from it. This elf was tall, his skin a darkened caramel as hers, but with white snow hair and the strangest tattoos. Unlike vallaslin, these covered most of his body but his entire face and glowed a light blue just as his sword had.
"And you are?" she asked when he turned to face them. His armor was all black and dark gray, intricate and devoid of color but for a bright red token on his wrist that looked worn as well as the belt around his waist of brilliant crimson.
"Depends on who's asking," he said, his voice gravelly and gruff. She lowered her shield for the moment, her eyes surprised to see like Solas that he walked barefoot despite wearing layers of armor like herself.
"You wouldn't happen to be Varric's friend, would you?" she said, sheathing her sword, watching as the man sheathed his to the scabbard on his back.
"You could say that, I take it you're...Leone?" he said, crossing his arms and his hazel eyes shifted and darkened as they landed on Dorian. "...and a magister?"
"Dorian Pavus," Dorian said amicably, leaning against his staff and eyeing the elf – although in an entirely different way.
"I see. Well, I was to understand it would be a mission led by myself and Leone – are there to be more?" the testy elf asked. "I don't like surprises."
"No, this is my friend. He came to escort me. Shall we talk business then?"
"Certainly, I'll be waiting inside," the man said and turned to enter a door just a few shops down, not glancing another look their way.
"...well, at least he's nice to look at it," Dorian said with a smirk. His face kept the smile but his eyes darkened a bit as he turned to her, "I suppose I shall leave you to it. Do come and visit once in awhile?"
"I will," Lavellan promised, gripping Dorian's hand before she headed into the shop the broody elf had sauntered into. It was clumped in among many others and was rather nondescript with worn steps and scratched paint on its walls. A few scraggly flowers pushed through the dirt of abandoned pots on the window sills. Pushing against the wooden door it groaned slightly and within the main entrance the elf she had encountered was leaning against a wall.
It was dark and dusty but she could see he had already begun work on cleaning the destitute shop. A mound of dirty cloth lay under one of the windows, a bucket of water with a damp cloth lay near and she realized the main windows had been cleaned but some of the others were still covered in filth. Shelves and tables were emptied of all but dirt and dust. He was posed beside another door.
"What is your name?" Leone asked as she decided to stand near one of the clean windows where she could see out on the street past the struggling flowers.
"I am Fenris," he said gruffly, "Will your friend be joining us?"
"No, I sent him home," she said and she smirked slightly, remembering her initial conversation with the Champion of Kirkwall. "Are you the Fenris the Champion mentioned?"
"Yes, I am," he said and she noted a subtle change in his demeanor as he stepped forward, missing the glimmer of a smile on his lips. "Unfortunately, I did request that she stay back in Kirkwall for now. What else have you heard of me? Hawke informed me of your various skills already."
"Not much, she only spoke of your relationship and Varric offered little else," Lavellan confessed.
"That is good," he considered, "I'm a warrior, much like you I admit, although I use larger swords it would appear. Then with my lyrium tattoos I am able to phase into objects as if I were invisible but then return to form causing great damage. An...experiment from my former master, a magister," Fenris explained, holding out his hand and showing her his tattoos. "I am not the best spy, but I do have connections to find us some to support our cause."
"I confess, I am not much of a spy either but I have at least another connection we can join with. I appreciate you taking a risk joining me here, Fenris," Lavellan said and then inquired, "What does Fenris mean?"
He grimaced a bit and turned away, "My former master chose it, for meaning 'little wolf'."
Lavellan frowned a bit, his name reminded her of Fen'Harel and...well...that wasn't important now. However, she did ask him another question, "You were a slave?"
"Yes, perhaps a tale for another time when I'm drunk, eh? I only fully cleaned my room, so yours is still filthy. The office is cleared out but the main entrance here is still in need of cleaning before we 'set up' shop. As the Inquisitor I've heard tales of your grand fortress so it may be hard to get used to these small quarters," Fenris said, "I'll lead you to your room."
"If I recall, being the Champion's lover – wouldn't you stay at her estate every so often?" Lavellan asked as she followed and saw the warrior's back tense. It reminded her of when the others would tease Solas so she chuckled. Just past the main entrance was the office area, an empty fireplace and a desk nestled within set the place but it could use more furniture. The wood was worn and scratched much like everything else but the dust and filth was cleared from here. Fenris must have cleared it well before her arrival and a small hallway began just beyond the fireplace.
"I already took the room on the left so you can have the right," he explained, opening the door in the dim hallway. At the end a table and window allowed some light in but the sun faced the shop entrance so this window barely brought in any light during the day. Within her room she braced herself. Luckily, it wasn't terrible.
A small desk and bed were against the wall, a small chest near the door would be her means to hold her personal items. Everything was layered in dust and the window within was still encrusted with dust and debris.
"I'll bring you a bucket and washcloth. I took the initiative and hired a free elf to handle the washing of our linens. Clean sheets and such will be delivered this afternoon, she will come by weekly. We can hire others, but I wanted to limit that until you were here so we could discuss our plans."
"Good thinking," Lavellan noted, propping the bedroom door open with her traveling satchel and as she set it down she remembered the necklace. Later she would think what to do with it, for now she had to refresh this abode she'd be residing in. "Where are we keeping the linens and cleaning supplies?"
"There's a small room beside yours, barely bigger than a closet with some boxes and shelves," he noted, showing her the door simply by leaning back from her as she walked back into the hallway. "Once I get you the water, I'm going to resume cleaning up the front. I figure first step to preparing this operation is to open up shop. You can find me there once you finish." Soon both were toiling in their respective assigned roles, her washing and wiping grime from the walls and windows covered in aged dirt. Fenris had managed to wipe most of the dust already and was now deep cleaning before washing the wooden floors. Morning turned into afternoon before either knew it and the silence was odd to Lavellan, being surrounded by so many people day in and out...the quiet was fresh to her.
By the time she was satisfied the washing woman had dropped off the linens and Fenris had called out to her to come to the entrance. He was in the middle of finishing off the floor so Lavellan traversed the wet entrance way to gather the linens and blankets, dropping coins into the woman's hands.
"Good day," the woman said with the barest of smiles and dropped the money into her purse.
"Good day to you as well," Lavellan said, tossing the bag of linens over her shoulder and then she carried the bag past the shop entrance to the office room. She pulled out the folded sheets and coverlets. Sighing she realized she was spoiled, already she thought of her massive bed back at Skyhold. Oh well, she thought and set them out on the desk and went to see if Fenris needed help.
"I'm almost done," he said dumping out the gray, slimy water outside the door into the street. "However, I'd rather eat before we discuss anything. Care to stop by the nearest pub?"
"Yes, that sounds great. Do you have the key?"
"It's in my pouch, I've got your spare as well," with his left handing reaching into a pouch, the red crest looked familiar to Lavellan as he pulled a blunt, bland key and tossed it to her. She caught it and placed it within a pouch on her own belt. "We should be good to go, the floors will dry while we're eating."
The two confident elves garnered a few stares on the streets, many of the passerby uncertain of what to make of them but said nothing. Even free elves usually had a relation or experience with slavery so meekness had become almost a part of their culture. Then again, with Fenris's preternatural disposition for frowning and the bold gaze of Lavellan it was easy to see why no one had spoken up about the strangeness of them in these quiet streets...or it could have been their brilliant armor and massive swords.
After exiting the alley they found their way to a small tavern and ordered. Eyes continued to watch them but for now they tried to keep quiet. Lavellan inquired of the Champion to Fenris who easily provided details on his loved one. Fenris asked few questions and ate slowly while sipping some wine. She then asked about his armor and the style of it to which he became more expressive and excited.
Purple streaks arched through the sky already on their way back to the empty shop.
The floor had dried and Fenris locked the door and shuttered the windows at the front, grabbing the empty bucket and dirty cleaning cloths. Lavellan walked into their mutual office, alighting a fire within the fireplace and settling into one of the two large, plush chairs. Seconds later after he had set everything in the storage room he sat in the other one, lounging back with his ankles crossing and a bottle of wine sitting on the floor beside his chair within grasp. She hadn't even noticed it there.
"Shall we begin?" she asked allowing her arms to go slack on either side upon the armrests.
"In regards to the shop, I think we might want to reconsider the 'shop' aspect."
"I agree, we can sell a few things, but we might do well to also serve as bodyguards for hire," Lavellan offered.
"Then we are on the same page – particularly as we are both warriors," Fenris smiled sharply. "Next would be how to fit in. Being elves makes us a target anyway but we will need to hide the value of our equipment...and fix our appearance."
"...perhaps I can acquire some cheaper armor for when we aren't on missions," Lavellan offered. "I'm considering doing something to hide my appearance, even without my vallaslin – my appearance could compromise us."
"I agree, while I stand out I am not well known but your eyes...I see very few with such a color. Hawke had mentioned them, but we may need a spell or something to hide them at least. Perhaps your friend can assist while we consider spies and mages for hire."
"Good idea, I wonder…," she thought, looking over Fenris and he raised a brow, "Perhaps we should try to pass ourselves off as siblings?" He bristled at first and she thought she may have offended him in some way. After he took a swig from his wine bottle he seemed to tilt his head back and consider what she had said more.
"...that may...work. I am curious, why are your vallaslin gone? I thought you were Dalish?" he asked, leaning forward and this time Lavellan looked away towards the fire.
"That is a long tale for another night I am drunk as well. Suffice it to say I was offered something by Fen'Harel and this was a parting gift," she said with a sad smile.
"Ah – the ridiculous apostate who betrayed the Inquisition and names himself after the elven trickster God?" he asked, "Or so Hawke and Varric have told me."
Lavellan stiffened instantly, "Excuse me? What else have they told you about him?" Despite the pain she bristled at his words.
"What else….? That he was quite insufferable at times. Went by Solas initially I was told. One of your closest companions that you took on nearly all of your travels."
"All that is an understatement. That apostate you speak of was much more to me," she said, a hum of irritation and threat intertwined in her tone. He paused suddenly and he scratched his chin.
"I see – this may complicate our mission," Fenris growled.
"It was never going to be simple either way. If anything comes up with Fen'Harel I will deal with it, it's not your concern."
"I hope so," he said, eyeing her warily.
"What are we to call this place?" she asked, changing the topic. "The 'Wolf's Den' perhaps?" she suggested and he choked on a swig.
"You intend to name it after your lover?" he asked as she smiled at his expression.
"I feel like I'm surrounded by wolves – Fen'Harel, Fenris….just keep it coming," she remarked, "Besides it may confuse those who are supportive and against the rise of Fen'Harel."
"Whatever, I'm not concerned with the name of this business. My concern is how we intend to make this work? I know we are to serve the community as shop owners, hire a few trusted agents and then provide a route for slaves to be...escorted out of Tevinter to a safe destination," he said, "From what I've understood in our correspondence with Varric, you have secure passage from the border to a Ferelden safe haven. We will start small and begin funneling more slaves from here while eliminating...a few of the masters and sellers." A smile appeared on his lips with sharp teeth glinting in the firelight just as a light glow pulses from his tattoos.
"Precisely, we'll begin with scouting and establishing the business. After we have some trusted agents you and I can carry out the missions with at least two supporters coming with. I intend to research and locate some particular artifacts that may help us against Fen'Harel if he does interfere with our plans," Lavellan added. "I do wish to limit the amount of agents we hire and even those will have limited information. Many of my agents within the Inquisition were compromised and it was a harsh lesson for me to learn. At this time I still have some strong connections but I do want to limit the use of them for dire situations."
"Understood. An old friend will be pulling into port within the week to provide some intelligence and service for a time. She can assist in providing at least one or two good agents as well as some leads into the artifacts you are looking into," Fenris said and set the wine bottle down with finality. "Your Magister friend may also be of assistance."
"Yes, if need be."
"Well, is there anything else we need to discuss?"
"I think that should suffice for now. We can speak more tomorrow if I think of more."
"Good, I'm going to turn in. Don't forget to hide your high quality armor away."
"Good evening," Lavellan said and watched as the man stood up and carried his bottle with him to his room after collecting some linens, his shoulders sagging only a tad as he closed the door behind him. He must have lit a candle within the room because as she allowed the fireplace to die down a gentle glow came from under his door. She collected her own linens and went into her room, not bothering to light a candle as she packed things into the small chest near her door.
Packing it all in she quickly changed into a nightshirt and pulled the last item from her satchel before placing it within the chest as well just atop her armor. Her fingers stroked the bone in her hand and the leather straps twined about it. It was smooth and sharp just as his own cheekbones and jawline had been. For a moment she thought about throwing it away or stuffing it at the bottom of her storage chest.
Instead, she held the necklace out and placed it on herself, feeling the light weight of it settling between her breasts like a talisman. After some time it began to warm and she fell asleep with it digging lightly into her skin.
P.S. Excuse the long break – I haven't read any reviews yet and I intended to have this chapter out sooner. I've got a plan for all the writing but holidays and life have been hectic lately. I do have more chapters already written. So I'll upload at least one more or two by tomorrow. I appreciate your time and patience. Everyone have a beautiful night/evening. 3