A/N: Long chapter ahead! :-) I'll apologize in advance because of the in-game dialogue I included. I just think it's unnecessary to change it, especially if it works.
04
Talia woke up with a start, she'd heard a small noise and felt a presence in her room. Her usual dagger was not under her pillow, so she raised her hand, a spell on her lips, and she barely stopped herself from blasting the elven servant into Oblivion.
The young elf stared at her in absolute fear. As Talia lowered her hand, the servant looked as if she were about to faint. Talia recast the Translation spell on both of them, so that she could question the girl.
As she opened her mouth to speak, the girl fell down on her knees and bowed to her.
To say Talia was dumbfounded was an understatement. Why was this servant girl prostrating herself in front of her? Hadn't they decided she was a demonic murderer that killed innocents and drank the blood of children? But then again, she more than anyone else, was very familiar with how fickle the minds of the masses were.
"I-I beg your forgiveness, and ask for your b-b-blessing," she stuttered and Talia stared at her in disbelief.
When she stayed silent, the elf continued. "They say you saved us, my lady. You stopped the Breach from growing, with your Divine mark. It's all everyone's been talking about for the past three days."
Three days? Had she been unconscious that long? "Have they spoken about my trial?"
"I-I haven't heard anything about it, my lady," The elf looked up, as if afraid Talia would be angry with her for not knowing.
"Very well," she said. "You are dismissed."
"O-of course! Lady Cassandra will want to know that you've wakened. Sh-she's in the Chantry," The elf would not stop bowing until she left the room. As soon as the doors were shut, Talia flopped back down on her bed.
By Sithis, she'd hoped it was all a bad dream—but even in her dreams, she'd never been in a situation as horrible as this. Talia brought her hand up to her face to examine the mark. It glowed slightly, but it no longer pulsed, and the pain that accompanied it was gone.
She was in one of the cottages, presumably still in that small village near the Temple. Fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace and filled the room with a semblance of warmth—but Talia still felt the cold draft entering through small crevices between the wood. She tensed when she realized she was not in her battlemage robes, but a loose tunic and breeches. Which meant someone changed her clothes, and she gritted her teeth at the thought of a complete stranger disrobing her.
Her pack was on the only table in the room, and when she checked it, she sighed in relief to find all her belongings still intact. Her Blade of Woe and Sufferthorn were on the desk, together with her throwing needles. She assumed they didn't notice, or care about the Daedric daggers in her boots.
Before she went to see Cassandra, Talia first had to figure out how she was going to present herself. In the past days, she was only quiet. It could be attributed to shock at being forced into such a role, they didn't need to know she simply wished to observe them. Talia wasn't stupid enough to trust these people—they thrust her in a cell, threatened her, called her an 'Abomination', and if what the young elf said was true, then she was now seen as their Savior.
What she needed to do was to turn this opportunity into something that would benefit her. But how?
Then it occurred to her: every one of them seemed to be incredibly religious. She could play herself as a devout follower of their religion. She'd posed as a priestess of Mara before; it was how she introduced herself to Jauffre. Although the lie did not hold up until the end, she played her role very well. She would make herself a loved member of their faith—and that was the easiest way to manipulate their minds.
The only problem with the plan was Leliana. She knew what she was and where she really came from. There was no doubt in her mind that the red-haired woman would call her out if Talia presented herself in such a way to her other allies. Unless…
Unless she made them believe it was their idea.
She would offer them the knowledge that she was from a different world—a way of showing that she trusted them. Talia could play the part of modest, unassuming, naïve girl, always looking to them for advice. And she would look pliable enough to convert to their religion, and truly believe she was sent by whichever Divine beings they worshipped. Acting gentle and kind would also win her points with the masses; they loved those kinds of people.
For a moment, she considered just coming as she is—cold, unforgiving and ruthless, but she dismissed it quickly. As a stranger to this land, they would never trust her with any kind of power if they thought she would abuse it—and she definitely needed power if she wanted to find a way back to Tamriel.
She needed more information to develop a more concrete plan, but it was a start. After putting on her battlemage robes and resheathing her daggers, Talia conditioned herself to her role. She stared at herself in the mirror, watching her face and practicing different facial expressions; it had been a long time since she needed to put on a mask other than her expressionless one. Once she was satisfied with the genuineness of her smile, she set out to find Cassandra.
As she exited her cottage, a group of soldiers immediately saluted her. Unsure of how to respond, she merely smiled and nodded at them.
"It's her!" she heard one whisper.
"The Herald of Andraste!"
The Herald of What?
One of the townsfolk broke away from the crowd and went down on his knees in front of her.
"M-my lady! I ask for your forgiveness! I am but a humble servant of the Maker!" As Talia studied the man, she realized that he was the man who stepped in front of Cassandra and called her an Abomination.
Perhaps now was a good time to practice her acting. The Maker was obviously their god, but then who was Andraste? Talia touched the man's shoulder to subtly cast the Translation spell on him. Deciding on a general religious saying, she leaned forward and spoke softly.
"The Maker judges all of our actions, brother. It is His forgiveness that you should earn," she gave him a gentle smile.
Sithis take your soul, Fetcher.
It seemed to be the right thing to say, for the man broke into hysterical sobs, all the while thanking her. "You shame me, Herald! I shall repent! Whatever you ask of me, I will do it!"
Talia mentally patted herself on the back. "Then do your best to serve the Maker, brother."
The Chantry was not difficult to spot—it was the largest structure in the area. The crowd parted easily as she walked to the temple; they seemed content to simply gaze upon their herald. A few, more daring ones reached out to dab a cloth against her, then quickly wipe it on their person, as if whatever miracle brought her there would somehow be transferred to them. Talia fixed the gentle smile on her face, even though she was turning homicidal with every step she took.
Once she reached the Chantry, one of the soldiers bowed to her and directed her to the room at the end of the hall. There were refugees on their knees, saying prayers to their god.
"Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide…"
"O Maker, hear me cry. Guide me through the blackest nights…"
Talia tucked away those phrases in the back of her mind. If she was to play prophet, one of those lines would come in handy soon.
She could already hear raised voices as she approached the door; it seemed that bumbling fool Roderick was back. All three occupants were in the middle of a heated argument, and she took the opportunity to send Translations spells at the them. She would need to figure out an easier way to speak with them, perhaps an enchantment, or a more permanent spell. It was a good thing she'd brought her research with her.
"Am…I interrupting?" she asked.
"Arrest her! I—," Roderick immediately shrieked to the guards behind her.
"Disregard that and leave us," Cassandra countered briskly. The guards brought their fists to their chests in a strange salute, and closed the door behind them as they left. Cassandra turned to glare at the Chancellor. "You seem to have forgotten, Chancellor, that the Breach threatens us all. I will not stand idly by while it still remains."
"I tried to do everything I could…I'm sorry we could not close it," Talia said, arranging her expression into something that resembled shame.
"It is not your fault," Leliana immediately reassured her. "Someone was behind the explosion at the Chantry, someone that the Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others—" she turned her glare to the Chancellor. "Or have allies who may yet live."
Roderick spluttered. "I am a suspect? But not the prisoner?" he sneered.
"No," Cassandra defended her. "She closed the rifts and willingly helped us to stop the Breach from growing. That effort nearly killed her."
"So her survival, that thing on her hand? All a coincidence?"
"Providence," she replied with so much faith that Talia wanted to shake her head at Cassandra's foolishness. "The Maker sent her to us at our darkest hour. We lost everything. Then out of nowhere, she came," Cassandra said. She was looking at her in the same way the townspeople did: reverently.
"Be that as it may, you have no authority to decide upon this matter—" Roderick was cut off; Cassandra slammed a thick book down on the desk in front of them with such force that the candlesticks rattled.
"Do you know what this is, Chancellor?" Cassandra said dangerously. "It is a writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."
The Inquisition? This just keeps getting better.
Cassandra advanced on Roderick, who backed up as she got closer. "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval." she punctuated her sentence with a jab of her finger to Roderick's chest. The Chancellor simply glared at her in disgust, but knowing he'd lost the battle, he left the room without another word.
Talia's respect for Cassandra went up a notch.
The warrior turned to her. "Leliana and I were not planning to announce it in that manner, and we have been meaning to talk to you."
"That most definitely was not part of the plan," Leliana sighed softly. "But we did wish to speak with you."
"About what?" Talia asked. She already knew they would ask her to join the Inquisition, but Talia knew she didn't have a choice. They could simply blackmail her, hand her over to Roderick and be tried for crimes she didn't commit. She could run, of course, but it would be impossible to blend into the background, with no other Dunmer around. The fact that she knew next to nothing about this world also came to her mind. Besides, if this…Inquisition would grow, she could gain access to research and other means to figure out how to return to Tamriel.
Cassandra extended her hand to Talia. "You are our only hope of closing the Fade Rifts, and consequently, the Breach. Will you stand by the Inquisition? Will you help us?"
Talia hesitated slightly, before shaking Cassandra's hand.
"I'll do my best," she said. "But I would…like to speak with you and Leliana about my circumstances."
Leliana inclined her head and left the room. "I will call for both Josephine and Commander Cullen, I believe they should be privy to this information as well."
When Leliana returned, she was followed by two other people. One was a blonde, stern-looking man who looked like he'd seen his fair share of warfare; the other, was a beautiful, olive-skinned woman, wearing a strange blouse with puffy sleeves.
"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat," Cassandra introduced her. Talia shook the woman's hand briefly, casting a Translation spell on touch.
"How do you do?" Talia asked sweetly.
"And this is Commander Cullen, the leader of our forces," As Talia shook his hand, she also cast the Translation spell on him, but was taken aback when he stiffened and grabbed her wrist.
"What did you do?" he asked dangerously. Talia could only stare at him. Was he a mage?
"Commander—" Cassandra started to say.
"I said what did you do, mage?" he repeated. Talia could have escaped his grip in various ways, but she forced herself to look frightened.
"Mage?" Cassandra and Josephine looked surprised.
"You're hurting me," she whimpered. Whimpered. Sithis, Jauffre would have laughed his arse off if he saw her now.
"Release her, Commander," Leliana said in a low voice. Cullen gave her a look before letting go of her. Talia drew her 'injured' wrist to her chest.
"I want an explanation," he demanded.
"You are frightening her, Commander," Leliana's voice had an edge to it, and Cullen quieted, but continued to glare at her.
Frightening her? The idea was laughable, but that meant she played her part—and she played it well.
"Talia is not from around here," Leliana spoke when it was clear Talia was too "frightened" to.
"We have already established that she is a half-ling. Born of the union between a Qunari and an elf," Cassandra said.
"No," Talia said softly. "What Leliana meant is that I am literally not from here…at least, not from this plane of existence."
The silence that followed that revelation was deafening. Talia scanned their reactions. Cullen looked on in disbelief, Josephine in surprise and Cassandra in sudden comprehension.
The Commander was the first to recover. "Not from this plane of existence? As in…another world? That is preposterous."
"It is the truth," Leliana defended. "The Hero of Ferelden was in a similar situation."
"Then how did you get here?" Josephine asked curiously.
"I…don't exactly know. I was investigating a portal, and when I entered it, it brought me to the…Fade." she tested the word out.
"Then, you were not even at the Conclave when the Most Holy perished," Cassandra said.
"No...I didn't even know what the Conclave was. Or what a Divine was."
"You can't seriously be considering this?" Cullen said incredulously. "Another world? I am willing to believe that the Maker brought you to us for a reason, but to say you are from an entirely different universe…that is too much."
Talia wanted to roll her eyes. He could believe that she'd been sent down by some unnamed and unseen divine being, but he didn't want to acknowledge the possibility of different planes of existence?
"The Commander said you were a mage," Cassandra said. "What spell did you cast on him?"
"The same as I've cast on all of you," she spoke softly. "It's a Translation spell."
"A Translation spell? Is that why I can hear you speaking in Antivan and King's Tongue?" Josephine asked.
"I…cannot speak your language," Talia replied timidly. "And you cannot speak mine, so I needed to cast the spell on all of you."
"So you are a mage?" Cullen asked warily. "But I examined you myself, and Solas as well. There was no trace of magic in you."
"I'm hardly a mage," she lied. "Where I come from, everyone is born with the ability to cast simple spells. But their proficiency in it is how you can classify someone as a mage."
The three looked on in shock, but Leliana looked thoughtful. "The Hero of Ferelden also said as much. She told us she knew a few healing spells, but not much else."
"If what you're saying is true, then all of those people run the risk of turning into Abominations," Cullen said with chagrin.
Talia looked at him curiously. "What is an Abomination? There was a man who called me that the other day."
"An Abomination is a living thing who's been possessed by a demon. Mages are the most susceptible to possession, because of their connection to the Fade. They're very dangerous. There was one that wreaked havoc on an entire village, almost killing everyone in its wake. " Cullen looked slightly abashed at his next words. "They sometimes have glowing red eyes, which is I believe, the reason they accused you of being one."
How horrific. And the mages were locked up simply because there was a chance that they'd be possessed? What kind of barbaric, backwater world was this?
"This…Fade doesn't exist in our world," Talia explained. "We obtain our magicka from Aetherius…it's difficult to explain," she said when they all looked at her in confusion.
"So…no Abominations? No demons?" Cullen looked like he was in awe.
"No Abominations," she confirmed. "But demons? Well, it depends on what you classify as demons." They didn't have the things that fell out of Fade rifts. But as she thought of Dagon, his followers, daedra spilling out of the Oblivion gates…yes, it was a matter of perspective.
"What a strange land," Josephine mused.
There was no doubt that none of them would have survived ten minutes in Tamriel. If the appearance of a Dark Elf unnerved them, what would have happened if they encountered Khajit or Argonians?
"If possible, I'd like to borrow more books about this place," Talia said. "I'd like to understand more about the customs…and I'd like to learn more about Andraste and the Maker," she added shyly.
"Why?" Cassandra asked bluntly.
Talia looked away and bit her lip. "If…if I was really sent by your Maker, I'd like to understand Him and His teachings." she offered.
"You believe in the Maker?" Cullen asked.
"I don't know. But who am I to question His will? There must be a reason everyone here believes in Him."
All four of them looked inordinately pleased at her words.
"I would also like to know what my role in the Inquisition will be. I understand that I can close rifts, but I may not be good for anything else." she said.
Cassandra scoffed. "Everybody saw how you attacked that Pride Demon."
Talia was quiet for a moment, thinking of a way out of the situation. She raised her worried eyes to Cassandra. "I…I didn't want to say anything. But I am not sure how I did it."
"Are you telling us you didn't know what you were doing?" Leliana's eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
"Cassandra has seen my skill with the sword, I almost hit her more than I did the enemies. But with that…Pride demon was it? I can't explain it. It was a strange force, compelling me to go and…and…" she trailed off.
"Protect the people?" Josephine finished for her, and Talia nodded sagely. Was it truly that easy to use their religion against them?
"When you stabbed him again, we saw you glow," Cassandra said. "It was only for a moment, but I saw it. Orange, like flames." There was a slight widening of her eyes. Sometimes it was better to leave them with their own assumptions of what happened. Of course the orange light had been the glow of an entropic spell, but they didn't need to know that.
"I can close rifts, but I'm not sure you would really want me around for battle," she said meekly.
"I see. We will take that into consideration. But it is likely that you will be part of the excursions around the area. The masses are intrigued by you; we've already heard people declaring you as the 'Herald of Andraste'."
Talia nodded slowly. "I'm not sure what else I can do, but I'll help in every way I can," she said shyly.
"Of course," Leliana inclined her head. "We will ask someone to bring you the books we have here at Haven. We'd also like to know more about your land, but we can discuss it at a later date." It was a clear dismissal, one that Talia heeded.
"All right," she smiled. "Thanks again, for…for everything." And with those words, Talia swept out of the room. Glancing subtly about to see if there was anyone around, she entered an empty room and slipped on the Ring of Khajiti. While she was sure that she had played her role well, she needed to know their thoughts.
Casting an invisibility spell as a precaution, she took the opportunity to reenter the war room when a scout brought in a report for Leliana. Keeping her steps silent, she slipped past the door and settled in a dark corner. It was a relief to drop her mask, even for a moment. She'd forgotten how tiring it was to maintain it, especially one so different from her personality.
As soon as the scout left, the four returned to their previous topic.
" I don't understand how you can even believe this story of hers. Another world? It's ridiculous!" Cullen scoffed.
"And how would you explain never having seen anyone like her? Except the Hero of Ferelden, who has also admitted to me that she was not from our world." Leliana challenged.
"And how sure are we that you are not harboring her secrets to exploit it later? You spoke with her alone—"
"Do not insult me, Commander. Everything I have done has been for the Most Holy, and all my efforts now are towards the betterment of the Inquisition."
"Forgive me, my words were ill-thought."
Leliana gave him a stiff nod. "I spoke with her alone because I knew what she was, and she needed someone to place her trust in. I extended a friendly hand and she accepted because she needs an ally in a world unknown to her. And we needed her to help us close the Breach."
"And you believe she trusts you now?"
"Not fully, but she volunteered the information herself, it is already a sign that she trusts us to a certain extent."
"I admit, this is all a bit difficult to swallow," Josephine said. "But where she has come from is not a major concern as of this moment."
"Not a major concern?" Cullen asked in disbelief. "We have either a lunatic who believes she's from another world, or a consummate liar. And judging by the way she lied about her magic, I'd say it was the latter."
"What little information she shared about her world coincides with what the Hero of Ferelden has told me."
"Then let us, for a moment, assume there is another world. Are we not going to consider it a threat? A possible invasion?"
"Invasion? By what? Sending one Dark elf every ten years? We must cross that bridge if we get there, Commander. There is no point in jumping to such conclusions. For now, let us focus on the immediate threat."
"The Breach is our priority, and Talia is still the only person who can close the rifts," Cassandra said.
"If her fighting skills are as abhorrent as you say they were, then we can't have her traipsing along the countryside without at least three people to guard her." Cullen pointed out.
"She took out a Pride Demon," Leliana argued. "No matter what she says, it was she who buried her blades in the demon's skull, and managed to climb atop its head to finish the job."
"Talia did say she does not know what came over her. And I saw the orange glow myself, Leliana." Cassandra said.
Cullen rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance. "The only thing the orange glow tells us is that she used more magic to kill that demon."
"It must have been Andraste," Cassandra argued. "She was in the rift behind her when she appeared, and she aided when Talia needed to defeat that demon. The orange glow—the fire that consumed our Lady—"
It was so ridiculous, Talia almost blew her cover by snorting. Cassandra seemed so bent on seeing her as Andraste's chosen that she was coming up with the absolute nonsense to justify it. Talia knew she was pushing her luck when she claimed she didn't know what compelled her to kill the demon. But at least now, she knew the limits to her divinity.
"That story has been circulating in the barracks," Cullen admitted. "But this is getting out of hand. No matter what people say about her, she is only a person, even if she was sent by the Maker."
"Perhaps she just lacks the confidence to wield her blade properly. Someone could instruct her," Josephine said diplomatically. "Not the Commander though, you seemed to frighten her."
"Perhaps this is all an act of hers—when she was our prisoner, she was impassive the whole time, I could not get a read on her expressions. Although her reaction to the knowledge of demons made her laugh in disbelief. She was also armed to the teeth when we found her. Two daggers on her belt, two throwing needles hidden in her hair, a well-made bow, a quiver of arrows, and two more daggers hidden in her boots. These weapons aren't used by common people, she could be an assassin."
Leliana was smarter than Talia gave her credit for. It would be wise to be cautious around her in the future.
"Then she could still be—" Cullen started, but Leliana shut down his argument firmly.
"No, Commander. Even if she were an assassin, we've already established that she wasn't at the Conclave when the Most Holy died. She doesn't even know anything about our world."
"We need to have someone watching her closely," Cassandra said. "She can only maintain a mask for so long—and we have people around us who can give us an update on her activities and actions."
"We must also decide on how we will be dealing with this entire 'Herald of Andraste' business," Josephine said.
"She will be the figurehead of the Inquisition of course," Leliana said matter-of-factly. "The people are already rallying in her name. The townspeople have already accepted her as their savior, and some have already asked for her 'blessing'. It would be remiss not to take advantage of her influence."
"And are we going to risk the Chantry's ire by exalting what they consider a 'heretic'?" Josephine asked.
"The Chantry will denounce us, of that there is no question. What we need is to extend our reach and our power. Talia will be the best to recruit agents to our cause. The people will want to meet the Herald of Andraste."
"Then I will be going to these places with her," Cassandra volunteered. "If we need someone to watch her, it may as well be me."
"It's settled then. We have to go public with the announcement of the Inquisition," Leliana said.
"Leave that to me," Josephine nodded and wrote it down on her vellum.
"I will keep training the new recruits. Hopefully if your excursion goes according to plan, we'll have more volunteers in our ranks." Cullen said.
"And I shall keep one ear to the ground. We need all the information we can get. I've already written a letter to the Hero of Ferelden to ask if she knows anything about Talia." Leliana's shoulders sagged slightly. "Hopefully she will reply to this one."
Cullen and Josephine both took their leave, and Talia slipped out the door after them, contemplating what she'd just heard. She peered into one of the open rooms in the Chantry and, seeing it was empty, stepped inside and pulled off the Ring of Khajiti. She grabbed one book from the shelf and exited the room, pretending to study it—her mind elsewhere.
Leliana was a smart one—she'd recognized Talia's weapons for what they were, and how could she not? Based on her observations, Talia could identify Leliana as a Bard. The sweet voice, charming looks and subtlety? And her last comment about keeping one ear on the ground solidified Talia's opinion that she was the Spymaster. She had a strange connection to this Hero of Ferelden, the only other Dunmer they've seen. In truth, Talia was hoping the Hero would reply to Leliana's letter, if just to find out what she knew about her.
Cullen was suspicious of her—and with good reason. Talia still wasn't sure how he was able to sense her spell, but she was going to find out. He seemed to be quite anti-mage, based on their very brief talk about them. Perhaps some bad history with them? Especially since he seemed so awed that there were no Abominations in Tamriel.
Josephine was harder to read, perhaps it was because she seemed to always answer so carefully. She seemed very diplomatic, but Talia thought she would be the most approachable.
Cassandra seemed to be the easiest to sway. She was so adamant in her belief that Talia had been sent by their Maker that she was blinding herself to the facts. Perhaps she was a closet idealist? Talia resolved to speak with the warrior when they left for their excursions.
As she descended the steps, she saw a figure waving to her from the corner of her eye. When she turned, she saw Varric by the fire, calling out to her.
"You all right there, Red-Eye?" Varric said as she approached, patting the space beside him so she could take a seat.
After sending yet another Translation spell (she really, really needed to find an easier way), she took the seat he offered. "Hello Varric," she said softly.
"So what have you been up to? Besides reading—" he craned his neck to look at the title before barking out a laugh.
"What?" she asked curiously. Talia couldn't read the title, but the plain leather cover seemed innocent enough.
"What are you doing reading the Rose of Orlais?" Varric grinned at her before taking a swig of his drink. "It's probably one of the trashiest, smuttiest, romance novels I've ever read in my life—and I never managed to get past the second chapter."
"Oh," was all she could say. Well, she'd been hoping she grabbed a book about their religion or something. "I didn't realize it was that kind of book."
"What? Really? The protagonist even has the same name as you, " Varric grabbed the book from her hands and flipped it to a random page. "'You must stop squirming, my lady, or I will have to punish you,' Garren's mouth was hovering over her heated flesh, and Talia barely managed to suppress a moan as he dragged his tongue over her exquisite center in a slow, deliberate stroke—'"
The content of the book startled a huff of laughter out of Talia, especially with Varric's voice acting.
"I'm not sure how you could read this and not think it's a smutty novel," Varric said, and he paused when Talia looked away, presumably in embarrassment. "Unless you..."
"No, I-I can't," Talia said quietly, schooling her expression into that of shame. "Where I come from, we have our own language and writing…I never really learned…"
"Hey it's all right! There's nothing wrong with that," Varric reassured her immediately. "If you want, I can give you a guide," he offered.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble," she said.
Varric waved away her concerns. He grabbed a piece of vellum from a pile on the ground, along with a quill and inkpot and set to writing. Varric jotted down each letter and told her what it was and how to pronounce it. Talia stared at it, simply remembering the order by which Varric wrote them down, and resolved to write down the translation beside them.
"Thanks, Varric," she smiled at him in gratitude—and she was surprised to find that she actually was grateful to him. The man didn't have to go out of his way to help someone learn how to read, but he did it anyway. And he didn't even ridicule her for it.
"Always eager to help out a fellow prisoner," he winked at her.
"A fellow prisoner?"
"You didn't know? Well, I'm surprised the Seeker's even allowing me this much freedom," he said. "She took me from Kirkwall—she was supposed to use me as a witness to what happened during the mage rebellion."
"Can you tell me more about it? The Mage Rebellion, I mean," Talia immediately asked. It seemed Varric was a font of information about current events.
"I wrote about it in my book, Tale of the Champion," then, he seemed to remember that she didn't know how to read. "But I can spare some time to talk about it, if we get dinner at the tavern," he hastily added.
Talia was glad for Varric's storytelling prowess, it distracted her from the numerous eyes that were on her while they were at the tavern. Plus, he threw in additional information apart from the actual story—what Templars were, how Circles were managed, politics within the Chantry, races within Thedas, and most importantly, background on Cassandra and Cullen. Mostly though, he spoke fondly of his friend Hawke, and their misadventures with him.
Getting to know Varric was interesting, not because of what he said, but more of the things that he didn't. Whenever she asked the usual questions, he'd deflect it with humor. She allowed it, but only because his subtle reactions were interesting. When Talia had asked about his family, he spoke about his horrible brother who'd trapped them in the Deep Roads for a lyrium idol. He was blasé about the entire story, but he kept one of his hands under the table, out of sight, while during more lighthearted tales, he gesticulated wildly using both his hands. Talia suspected it was a way to hide a habit or a nervous tick.
His expressions never changed from amused and generally jovial, but there was a subtle shift depending on who or what he was talking about. When it was Hawke, his eyes would crinkle and reflect a fondness for the man. If their conversations turned to Cassandra, there would be a momentary tightening in his eyes before it disappeared as if it were never there. They also spoke about the mage who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry. At that, his smile turned nostalgic, and then deprecating, before shifting back to normal.
Varric, as payment for his retelling of the Mage Rebellion, also asked a few questions about her and her life. Her answers were evasive, and he never pried. Talia thought he was familiar with people who didn't particularly like talking about their lives. He did ask one question that caught her off-guard.
"How did you get that scar on your eye?"
Talia's hand traced the line over her right eye, as her mind flashed back to what happened—Ungolim's dead body, Lucien's furious face, his dagger glinting in the moonlight, her howls of pain amidst his unforgiving words. And when he realized she knew nothing—the hint of panic in his voice, the desperation in his kiss, the warmth of a healing spell…
"Training accident," she kept her voice light, but she knew her mask had slipped, and she was sure Varric had noticed. "I'm pretty clumsy with a blade. I didn't manage to block on time."
"Someone must've healed you if you can still see out of that eye," Varric mused. "Why keep the scar?"
"A reminder," Talia echoed the words she'd told Lucien. Of what you're capable of. The last part went unsaid, but Lucien had understood it anyway.
When she said no more, Varric changed their conversation back to a lighter topic. "Speaking of scars, there was this one time Hawke…"
When she'd returned to her cottage, her mind was pounding with all the information she gathered for the day. It didn't help that she had allowed herself to think about her Speaker. She couldn't break away from the memories, and it left her distracted for the rest of her conversation with Varric. It frustrated her that even after everything he still retained his power over her, that he could still affect her from the grave.
Accepting that she wouldn't be able to get any sleep for the night, she caged her mind against the onslaught of memories and looked for something to distract her. She grabbed the research book she'd brought with her and studied the guide Varric had given her, resolving to find a way to overcome the language barrier.
All the while, Lucien lurked at the back of her mind, haunting her every move.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I appreciate all the feedback I've received. I suppose I did exaggerate a bit about the Pride Demon in the last chapter, so thanks for pointing it out!
As for Cassandra's seeming naiveté, I'll have to say that while I do think Cassandra is a strong-willed character, her religion is something that makes her both strong and weak. She is an idealist—she wants to change the world, but she relies so heavily on her faith to guide her. She is determined to see her as the Herald of Andraste, the Maker's blessing upon the world, and I think it's within her character to actually believe some of the more ridiculous stories about how miraculous Talia is, at least in the beginning.