Chapter 3
9:37 Dragon
Royal Palace of Denerim
"Well done, Cauthrien. I knew you would not let me down," Maythre, Queen of Ferelden, spoke approvingly having listened to the report made by her trusted second in command. "Even if you were aided by some good fortune, as I understand."
"Our arrival could not have been more timely, for Hawke was about to perish at the hands of some templar hunter," Cauthrien explained. "Speaking of templars, I am most interested in hearing whether Your Majesty's plans for dealing with them have come to fruition."
Maythre laughed, a little airily. "My dear Cauthrien, I would not be standing here before you, if those plans had failed. The Chantry is in ruins, most of the templars killed trying to defend the cathedral, my old friend Greagoir amongst them."
"What about the Grand Cleric herself?" Cauthrien asked, impatiently.
"I saw it prudent to allow her escape, together with small entourage of Chantry sisters. I have learned they are about to enter the passes across the Frostback Mountains," the queen said. "The mercy shown to them will confuse the Divine even more, making old Justinia hesitate in picking the target for the Exalted Marches. And while she ponders, more and more Circles will revolt against the Chantry rule, I have no doubt."
"Without the fear of the Exalted Marches, we will be free to rule this land as we please," Cauthrien allowed herself a small smile, before noticing the queen staring at her inquiringly. "A poor choice of words, I apologize. You will be free to rule this land as you please."
Maythre appeared to be thoughtful for a moment, but then smiled. "No, you were right the first time, Cauthrien. A queen can't rule alone without anyone loyal to trust. And who else should I trust but you?" Seeing that Cauthrien had relaxed a little at her words, she quickly continued. "Now, I imagine our guest is anxious to meet me, but before I go see Hawke, please tell me what you have learned of her. What is this Champion of Kirkwall like?"
Cauthrien hesitated a little, unsure where to begin and how to best describe their guest. "She proved to be... not quite what I expected myself. For someone carrying the impressive title of Champion of Kirkwall, she seems surprisingly... ordinary. I imagine she is a very skilled mage. I urge Your Majesty not to draw wrong conclusions from the fact that she had been defeated by a templar when we came upon her. Hawke had been so weakened by her illness by that point that it was a wonder she was even able to put up a fight. In fact, it speaks volumes for her force of will and stubbornness."
"I see..." Maythre nodded, her neatly manicured fingers tapping lightly against the surface of the mahogany desk. "What did you learn of her views, where do her sentiments lay? Does she approve of blood magic, of what I have done here?"
"She was very diplomatic and guarded about everything that involved Your Majesty, saying only that she respected what you have achieved. I imagine she does not know what to think of you, yet," Cauthrien explained. "From what I understand, she does not completely disapprove of blood magic, all though she does not seem comfortable with it either."
"That is good news, Cauthrien," Maythre appeared pleased. "This gives us something to work with. I wonder if she has tried blood magic herself?"
"She mentioned using it once," Cauthrien said. "To save a friend from certain death."
"Most excellent," Maythre said, rising from the table. "You know, Cauthrien, I think we can get this girl on our side. I don't think it should be too hard to get her see things my way."
"And if Your Majesty's perfectly sound arguments won't convince, I'm certain there is another way to ensure her cooperation," the general added, her face impassive.
"No... no, that would not work," Maythre shook her head resolutely. "She's a competent mage, as you said yourself. And if she's as smart as I've been led to believe, she will be keeping her guard up to block any attempts on my part. If she senses me doing that, she will never come to trust us. And then we will be forced to kill her."
"And... we wouldn't want to do that?" Cauthrien ventured, stepping aside as the Queen headed for the exit, having stopped at the mirror to make sure her appearance was acceptable.
"We definitely don't want to do that, Cauthrien. That is simply no way to treat a guest," Maythre smiled broadly as she took the general's hand. "Now take me to Hawke. It is time for me to meet the Champion in person."
Riona Hawke was having a very eventful day. The ship had been moored at the Denerim harbor earlier in the afternoon and she had been led off the deck accompanied by a dozen of soldiers, which had made her feel like the most dangerous captive in the history of Ferelden. At least her hands had not been tied, but even so, the stares of onlookers as she was escorted towards the palace had been puzzled and at times condemning even if they didn't know what her supposed crimes were.
Not having much of a reference, Riona found Denerim to be rather impressive. Her family had avoided coming to large cities, preferring to stick to small villages like Lothering instead. They had travelled through Denerim once when she was at the age of six or seven, and she only remembered it being incredibly filthy and rundown, full of narrow alleys of near-collapsing wooden shed like housings. It had been a quick trip through the slums then, while now she was being led through the most prestigious districts towards the palace, so the contrasting effect could not have been greater.
Even so, she was astounded by how much construction was currently under way in the capital. For a city ravaged by recent wars, she supposed this was only natural, but not all of it were simple renovations of damaged estates. Plenty of new, more attractive housings were being erected, and here and there tall spires of mage towers that she did not associate with Fereldan architecture had risen from the ground.
Now and then Riona had seen signs of very recent struggle, such as dark stains of spilled blood on the pavement or walls of houses. At first she had wondered whether the people had rebelled against the Queen, but when they arrived at the palace, from the whispers of the servants she had learned that the signs of fighting were the result of Queen Maythre and forces loyal to her throwing the last remnants of the Chantry out of the city, sending them to seek refuge in Orlais. If I knew the Grand Cleric of Denerim was as dreadful as old Elthina, I would only cheer the Queen on, Riona had thought at that.
It seemed that Shilla had been assigned as her private maid, for soon after her arrival in the palace the deceptively timid looking elf had come to help her settle in the impressive guest rooms given to her and prepare her for the meeting with the Queen later in the evening. Riona was rather glad for this turn of events. Shilla seemed to like her, even if it could have simply been an act to win her trust. But even so, the elf was a veritable fountain of interesting information, keen to share it with Riona, and for that she was very grateful.
And so, several hours later in the evening, Riona found herself sharing a dinner table with the much feared and demonized Queen Maythre of Ferelden. The queen could be described as very beautiful, but in a subtle, demure way. Riona had been told of her fancy for white gowns, and the one she was currently wearing certainly was a good fit with her pale skin and hair of slightly darker shade than Riona's own. From the first sight she had appeared pure and innocent, and her quiet, gentle voice added to the image, yet the words that came out of her rosy lips were full of distilled practicality.
"I'm sure you are wondering why I asked you to come to Denerim," the Queen told her once they had sat down on a cushy sofa, after Cauthrien had introduced them and then quickly left them alone in one of the many studies on the western wing of the palace.
They had agreed to dispense with their titles, something Riona was more than happy about, not much caring to be addressed as a Champion. Maythre seemed to feel similarly; when she had extended her hand to Riona previously, Riona had hesitated, not sure whether she was expected to bend down on her knees and kiss it. Seeing her indecision, Maythre had quickly grabbed her hand for a soft squeeze, reaffirming herself as a woman of action, rather than woman of pointless ceremonies.
"That thought has crossed my mind," Riona admitted. "Of course, I was on my way to Ostwick, having fled Kirkwall. In some respect, Ferelden might be safer for me than any place in the Free Marches, so I'm not exactly disappointed for this little side trip." Appearing hostile for being dragged to Denerim against her wishes was not to her benefit; she knew her only chances lay with gaining the Queen's trust.
"You were forced to flee Kirkwall?" Maythre seemed a little surprised, but also irritated that her sources hadn't mentioned that. "This is news to me. Tell me what caused it."
"I don't think mages are going to be awfully popular in Kirkwall for some time, after one of them blew up the Chantry," Riona explained. Maythre nodded, indicating she knew as much. "The templars told me to leave the city, giving me a little head start before they chased me down again. Perhaps you remember the one now left in charge after Knight-Commander Meredith's death, a man named Cullen?"
Something passed across Maythre's face, like a swift flash of pain and anger. "I remember him well," she said, her voice tense. With surprise, Riona noticed that even the color of her light brown, amber irises had somehow shifted to burn deep green. Then the emotion passed, and her eyes seemed to return back to normal. I must have imagined that. Probably the light in this place, playing tricks on me, Riona thought, a little startled at what she had seen.
"Of course, there is certain irony in that the templars in Kirkwall will still need aid of the mages if they want to repair rifts in the Veil and prevent the city from constantly getting attacked by escaping demons," Riona eventually continued.
"Rifts in the Veil?" Maythre shook her head, appearing a little confused, and disliking it. "Somehow I feel you will need to start at the very beginning for this all to make some sense."
"Very well, but you were about to tell me why you are so interested in the entire affair," Riona pointed out.
"Yes, so I did," Maythre nodded. "Consider this. I have overthrown the established order here in Ferelden, freeing the mages and crushing the Chantry in the process. Then something very similar suddenly happens in Kirkwall, so similar that many are pointing fingers in my direction, accusing me of somehow influencing the events in the Free Marches. And nothing could be farther from the truth, I swear to you."
"I know," Riona nodded. She believed this much at least.
"But the way these events resemble each other, it makes me want to learn more about what truly happened in Kirkwall. How did it all start? Who orchestrated these events?" the queen asked.
Riona fell silent for a moment. How much was safe to tell to the queen who appeared to be on the same side as she was? Was it safe to mention Flemeth? Riona sensed that what Flemeth had revealed to her had been for her ears only. The old witch would not approve of her spreading the tale further. "I'm not sure where to begin, to tell you the truth," she inserted quickly, as she continued her ponderings, seeing that Maythre was starting to grow impatient at her hesitation.
Flemeth was of Ferelden and had made her lair in the Korcari Wilds. According to Bodahn, the Warden had crossed paths with Flemeth before, but just what had passed between them, Riona did not know. No, until she knew more of what had been Maythre's involvement with Flemeth, Riona decided not to mention anything related to the 'old woman with white horns'.
"Just start somewhere," Maythre said, forcing her to cut the musings short. "I will let you know if anything is unclear or if I need to know something in more detail."
"Very well..." Riona shifted in the sofa, settling in more comfortably before she started her tale. "I can think of... three unrelated events that when combined led to the breaking point. First was a conspiracy between some mages in the Gallows of Kirkwall and several magisters in Minrathous, with the aim to break ancient seals below Kirkwall and let loose an army of demons upon the city. Secondly, the Knight-Commander Meredith coming in possession of a corrupted lyrium idol from the Deep Roads, and falling prey to its dark magic, twisting her mind completely. And lastly, an apostate from Ferelden, a man named Anders... my former companion, who secretly, without me knowing, hatched the terrible plan to blow up the Chantry in Kirkwall."
"Anders?" Maythre looked surprised. "I never thought he had something like that in him."
"Well, you didn't know he carried with him a Fade spirit, possessing him," Riona said. "I don't know the origins of their strange bond. He only mentioned that it happened in Amaranthine, but I know nothing beyond that."
"That must have happened during one of his many escapes from the Circle Tower. How futile those were, with his phylactery still locked up in the vaults," Maythre shook her head. "He was a few years older than me, and we never even truly spoke with each other, but I knew who he was. And he was driving Greagoir and the other templars mad, which I approved of."
"Should I concentrate on Anders for now?" Riona asked. Painful as it was to speak of anything related to the young Warden, at least she would not have to worry about mentioning Flemeth.
"Yes, please," Maythre nodded. "Start from the beginning, tell me how you came to meet him."
"I first met Anders six years ago," Riona started the tale. "I was introduced to him by a friend, who at that time was also my business partner. We were looking to join an expedition to plunder the riches of the Deep Roads, and we needed aid to find entrances leading into the dwarven passageways. We sought out the only Grey Warden in Kirkwall."
"Surely you don't mean Anders?" Maythre looked very surprised. "He's no Grey Warden!"
"He was by the time he showed up in Kirkwall. I never found out how that happened either, but I suspect that too was during the time he spent in Amaranthine," Riona shrugged. I never thought to ask him that, how dumb of me! He must have told Varric at least, ah, if only I could ask him at least! "He wasn't exactly happy with being a Warden, though, so he was not only running from the templars, he was also trying to escape the Wardens as well."
Maythre looked very thoughtful. "I remember hearing of some events in the Arling of Amaranthine, during my time of... forced exile at Anora's behest. I should seek some records on what exactly transpired there..." she added quietly, as if spoken only to herself.
"Shall I continue?" Riona asked.
"Did you mention that you needed Anders' help to enter the Deep Roads?" Maythre asked suddenly. Riona nodded. "And the idol that corrupted the Knight-Commander came from the Deep Roads?"
"...well, yes, recovered by our expedition," Riona admitted. "But I don't see how that could be related-"
"Let me worry about that, dear Riona," Maythre smiled warmly. "Please, do go on."
Riona found it hard to recompose herself all of a sudden. As she continued with her tale, stumbling along the way, it almost felt as Maythre was pulling the story out of her with her precise and relevant inquiries. Riona herself felt too overwhelmed with the implication of Maythre's suggestion that the two events might after all be related. And if they were, that could have been work of only one individual. Flemeth.
But that is insane to suggest that Anders conveniently showed up in Kirkwall just because we needed someone who could point us to the Deep Roads entrances. All though... I suppose that could have been possible to organize... after all, she managed to get us where she needed us, on Sundermount to resurrect her. Yes... she could have done that.
Could she have predicted that he would blow up the Chantry, though? The thought seemed so mad to Riona, she couldn't believe she was seriously considering it. No, that's just impossible. The idea must have occurred to Anders on his own, nobody planted it in his head. Well, except maybe Justice, or should I say, Vengeance. That she would just whisper in his ear that he should go and blow up the Chantry is simply ridiculous.
Then again... she managed to get me to do exactly what she needed me to do.
"I see you are becoming tired and losing concentration," Maythre's voice shook her out of her heavy thoughts, making her realize she had fallen silent for a long while. "The trip must have been draining, and I understand you are still recovering from a serious illness. I should allow you to rest."
"I am sorry," Riona bowed her head apologetically. "I do admit feeling very weary."
"That is understandable. We shall continue tomorrow," Maythre rose from the sofa, reaching out and helping her straighten her tired frame as well. "I hope you understand why I must ask you to cooperate in this. The world around us is changing, and the one who will better make sense of all the deep undercurrents stands the best chance at emerging on top."
"I understand... I think. And I don't mind helping, really. I'm just feeling a little woozy right now..." however, Maythre's next words would instantly wipe out all of Riona's tiredness, sending her back to her chambers shaking with fear, cold ancient dread gripping her as if from beyond the Veil.
"I'm glad you see things my way, Riona," Maythre said, her eyes minutely flashing green again. "For we stand on the precipice of a change..."