So I was not aware of the full extent of Celene's background until recently when I finally got around to reading The Masked Empire.
Since I've already written 7 chapters of this, I'm reluctant to change earlier chapters. In the original canon, Calienne de Ghislain killed Clarisse de Montfort. Reynaud (Clarisse's husband and Celene's father) killed Calienne in retaliation before succumbing to her poisoned blade, thus orphaning Celene to the throne at a young age.
In my story, things will (obviously) go a little differently. I hope you continue to enjoy!
P.S. Also, does anyone know why sometimes the bold doesn't work on ffnet? All my files are in story format and when I go into the document editor I can bold what I need bolded. Yet, when I save the bolded text all goes away :( It would help distinguish some elements of the story...
Herald's Rest Plaza Hotel - Main Gardens, 3:45pm
It had been almost two hours since they arrived at the hotel, and Iron Bull already needed a break.
He had been tirelessly speaking to the Valmont family, trying to resolve their family disputes until finally he had given up and demanded they each resign themselves to their own rooms. It was like grounding a group of misbehaving children, really.
His backup teams had arrived on the scene and security on SPD's part had tripled. Still, the issue stood that they did not have solid evidence for Briala's conviction, a fact Nymeria Lavellan had no qualms pointing out multiple times.
And there was the issue of the missing murder weapon.
It had only been two hours since Florian Valmont was killed. The murderer was definitely one of his own kin, and they had not been allowed to leave the hotel since the body was discovered.
Therefore, having no murder weapon at the scene of the crime usually indicated one of two things: (1) the murderer hastily stashed it somewhere in this million-floor hotel and the police had yet to find it or (2) the murderer still had it on his person, which increases the likelihood that he or she planned to strike again. Bull was hoping for the latter. At least then there'd be one less Valmont yelling and screaming in his ears.
At least the rooftop garden is sweet. He thought, looking out towards the skyline. There was finally some peace and quiet.
Krem was busy talking to Lavellan on the far side of the garden. They seemed to get along pretty well. Krem was probably keeping an eye on her for Bull ... or trying to get into her pants.
Bull's coffee sat next to him on the bench. It had cooled off since Krem first fetched it for him, fresh from the pot courtesy of the hotel. He drank it black, no sugar or cream. Krem knew.
He sat under the shade in the corner of the garden, scrolling through articles on his tablet. His large hands could barely type on those tiny little smartphones, so he usually used the company tablet. His understanding of modern technology was, sadly, somewhat limited. But he only needed minimal efforts to use it for his job anyway.
'Browsing the internet' was putting things lightly. He was being nosy, and he knew it:
nymeria lavellan |
He pressed enter and the search engine did the rest.
Bull knew he shouldn't delve into her public information and profile online like some crazy stalker. But he couldn't help himself. Curiosity got to him. She intrigued him.
"... but we're not completely ruling you out just yet, Mrs. Lavellan."
"Actually, it's just Ms." She corrected, a slight blush flushing her cheeks.
He only did a thorough background test for the sake of clearing Nymeria's name. He had to do it for all his suspects, really. Yes, that was all there was to it.
Besides, he was a police officer. And not just any police officer: He was the Chief . Who was more qualified to dig around in places they shouldn't than he? It's not like Bull ever cared for following conventional rules to a tee anyways.
He could've badgered Lavellan until she answered his questions honestly. Hell, if he was a real scumbag, he'd pester and wear her down until she said the exact words he needed for a conviction. That's how they ran things in Seheron anyway. He could've found a way to ask her questions so she'd be trapped into answering incorrectly.
He could've.
But instead, he chose to search up her name and go through articles about her like some creep:
- Dalish 'Family' Lavellan Laments Loss of its First
- Wycombe City Fire: Only 9 Survive
- The Evanuris - Corrupt Elven Politicians Finally Locked Away
- President Clarisse Valmont Chooses Her Daughter Celene As Would-Be Successor
- Human-Elven Tension On The Rise: The Divine Weighs In
- Wycome Elven Settlement Relocated to Southern Slums: Mixed Opinions
What the fuck am I doing? He thought.
Still, he tapped on the link, ' Dalish 'Family' Lavellan Laments Loss of its First' , and started reading:
Human-Elven relations are at an all-time low with the latest attack on a elven neighborhood in the town of Wycome. The unfortunate development is unquestionably derived from the sudden fire that erupted on Tuesday, which multiple sources agree was direct attack on the elven community, resulting in the deaths of over a hundred elven citizens living in the area. Only nine survived, four of whom have been severely hospitalized.
Among the dead was a Dalish First (name withheld) from a well-known family, or 'Clan', known as the Lavellans. Their Keeper, Deshanna Istimaethoriel, was unwilling to discuss the incident, but commented that they will continue to mourn the loss in their community and welcome those who survived into their Clan with open arms.
This chaos is irrevocably the result of the inner turmoil left behind when all members of the Evanuris, the Elven Rights Council, were condemned following the exposé regarding their political corruption, multiple accounts of bribery, as well as the death of one of their own members. While the Evanuris increased public awareness of elven brutality and corruption in the predominantly human judicial system, their inner turmoil led to seven guilty accounts of fraud and misconduct, all of which resulted in their incarceration at an undisclosed penitentiary.
Although the scandal occurred six years ago, the elven community still laments its lack of unity today. Without guidance and leadership, elven families like the Lavellans continue to struggle against the prejudice and brutality placed upon them by their surrounding society since Arlathan was handed over to Tevinter a century ago.
The Wycome fire was deemed an accidental incident, though many claim it as another malicious act of elven brutality, and urge both the Divine and Orlesian President Valmont to make a statement so events such as this one can be avoided in the future.
Divine Justinia has yet to comment regarding the incident, and President Clarisse Valmont will be making a public speech on the situation this Tuesday.
A fire, huh?
If the original First for Clan Lavellan died, who was Nymeria of Clan Lavellan? A replacement? Searching for 'Nymeria Lavellan' didn't result in anything past her studies in Haven Community College. It was almost as if she hadn't existed prior to then.
The mystery deepens. He sat back and frowned, thinking back to their earlier conversation:
"Nymeria."
"Huh." Iron Bull paused.
"What?" Nymeria asked, slightly defensive.
"That's not a Dalish name, is it?"
"No, it isn't." Nymeria replied, blinking.
His intrigue with mystery and problem-solving went hand-in-hand, really. Thus the completely fitting occupation of Chief of Police - really he was just a glorified detective who got paid more than the rest.
Interesting. He scrolled through a few more articles like that one, though most of them really retold the same story in a slightly different word order.
So Nymeria was a secretive person. Something about that fascinated him. But also irked him to no end.
It's not like Bull could arrest her; being quiet wasn't a crime, unless she was withholding information that pertained to the case. Did she harbor a dark secret behind those shimmering green eyes? If so, what was she hiding?
It was his own fault, really. He intended to let her go once her alibi was cleared up. But then he came up with the clever idea of using Nymeria Lavellan instead. He thought it might be beneficial to have someone who wasn't on the force help him, especially since she had a background in the courtroom. This was especially true since he had lost Gatt.
Did I jump the gun too fast? Nah, I'll still go with my gut. My instincts have never failed me… yet.
Had he been too hopeful to think that this woman could replace Gatt? Yes, she had impressed him by figuring out that Briala may've been framed (although he would've come to the same conclusion himself eventually), but her secrecy had him doubting his decisions. He preferred complete trust and disclosure when working with someone.
Pfft, come on. It's not like you're the best judge of character. He told himself. You trusted Gatt to have your back for 5 years and in the end he turned his back on you.
Sighing audibly, he closed the tablet in his hand and stashed it in his pocket. (One good thing about Qunari-sized trousers: you could fit a whole sack of potatoes in the pockets.)
"What's got you down, big guy?" Krem called out.
"None of your business." Bull replied, standing from the bench.
"You're awfully defensive," Lavellan smirked, hands behind her back. "What were you looking up on that tablet, hm?"
"Porn, probably." Krem laughed.
Bull shot him an incredulous look. "What I look up online in my spare time is private, Krem."
"Too much information aside," Nymeria cleared her throat. "What are you going to do now? There's no murder weapon and Briala's the only viable suspect, but you've got next to nothing on her. A barrette at the scene of the crime from a person who has a proven alibi won't hold up in court; a lawyer could deflect that as though it were nothing."
"Oh, you think I'm not aware of that?" Bull replied irritably. He didn't mean to snap at her, but it came out a little more aggressive than he intended. He was just on edge; he didn't like people holding secrets from him and to top it off this case was getting colder by the second.
Calm down. You barely know this woman. Don't go digging in the wrong places without warrant for suspicion. We don't want a relapse of the incident in Kirkwall.
"I'm just trying to help you," Nymeria glared. "You asked me to help with the legalities, didn't you? Isn't that why I'm still here?"
"It is." Bull breathed to calm himself. "Sorry. I'm just a little on edge. Something tells me foul-play is in effect. And I don't know what it is, but that Adrienne Mantillon woman really irks me."
"She does have a punchable face." Nymeria smirked, and Bull let out a hearty laugh.
"We need to look for that weapon." Krem crossed his arms. "Our backup team is in the midst of searching the floor. It has to be in the hotel."
"Or on the murderer." Nymeria shrugged as they started walking out of the gardens.
"We've already frisked the Valmonts individually, and their rooms are being searched as we speak."
"If we don't find enough evidence, who knows what those damn Orlesians will do." Bull grumbled, his face scrunched into a serious, frustrated frown. "They're dead-set on having Briala hauled to prison, no matter what."
"You have a good point. I've no doubt they'll find a powerful prosecutor to make sure Briala's fighting chance is over." Nymeria grimaced. "The Valmont family is very close to Madame de fer, I hear…"
Krem glanced at her nervously.
"That still doesn't change the fact that they have nothing on Briala. Nothing substantial enough to convict her. We may not have evidence to prove her innocence, but they don't have anything to prove her guilt either." She reassured, though she was worried herself. "'Guilty until proven otherwise' and all, am I right? Vivienne de fer is a ruthless, but rational woman. She will not fund a case unless she knows there's a winning chance."
"Unfortunately, I wouldn't put it past the Valmonts to try and frame Briala." Krem crossed his arms again.
"Vivienne de Fer will help them if knows she'll have a high chance of gaining favor in the Orlesian senate. Although seeing how she's already got Senator de Ghislain eating out of the palm of her hand, I'd say she's got all the political favor she'll need. Still, if there's substantial evidence in the Valmont family's favor, she would most definitely oblige to help them find the best prosecutor for their case."
"Are you suggesting they'll try to rig the trial?"
"They might." Nymeria shrugged. "That's just how the game is played in Orlais…"
Bull did not like the sound of that at all. This was why he hated working with the hot-shot rich people. They used money in the most disgusting ways. Especially Orlesians.
"So we're fucked?"
"Not necessarily. I mean, a good attorney definitely could make a strong case for Briala's defense. Granted we have substantial evidence. "
"'A good attorney'? Are you referring to yourself?" Iron Bull rose a brow.
She snorted. "I quit. But that doesn't mean I have connections and friends at my old firm. So if you're going to convict her of anything, you'd best take my - "
"Hold on, firecracker. I'm not your enemy here. I'm just trying to do my job."
"I'm sorry, did you just call me 'firecracker'?"
He ignored her amused smirk and continued:
"Let's just find what evidence we can, okay? We'll have to pull our heads together if you want Briala to walk free. Once we find - oomph, what the -Celene ! "
Iron Bull almost knocked the tiny Orlesian woman off the balcony!
"Sorry, didn't see you there. You hurt?" He asked, somewhat embarrassed.
"No, no. I am fine. Thank you." She curtsied to him, though her face hung low and she was staring down at the ground as she turned back to the view of the large city.
Celene was leaning against the railing to the balcony garden. Her makeup was still pristine, rich, and creamy. But her eyes were slightly swollen and she had a handkerchief gripped tightly in her gloved fist.
"Are you alright?" Nymeria placed a hand on Celene's shoulder.
"I am, I am!" Celene used her handkerchief to wipe away at her face. Her makeup remained unsmudged, and her face looked flawless as ever. She sniffled.
"I apologize. I was just thinking. Don't mind me. Oh, this is rather unbecoming of a lady, isn't it?"
"You just lost someone important to you, and your fiancee has been taken into police custody. You've plenty of grounds to be upset." Nymeria consoled.
"I just… I can't believe Bria did this. I can't believe I trusted her!"
"What, you think she is responsible?" Nymeria blinked. "What makes you think that?"
"I do not know who is responsible for my uncle's murder." Celene shook her head, sniffling. "I only wish … to know if… if she really meant all those things she said."
"You can ask her when she comes back." Krem reminded. "We're not taking her to prison; it's just a hour of standard questioning. She's not in perjury. Cheer up!"
"I apologize. I do not mean to burden you with the troubles of a scorned lover. It is all rather trivial and melodramatic. Mother would be appalled if she found me like this in public."
"You're a human being, Celene. You're allowed to have feelings."
"In my line of profession, it is unwise to show feelings." Celene looked down at her handkerchief, thumbing over the letters embroidered on the cloth. "I just don't know what to believe anymore. I mean, did she truly mean what she said? Were her feelings genuine? Or was this all just a ploy to get close to my uncle and Lady Mantillon? Was it all for revenge? I just don't believe that it all meant nothing to her..."
"Those are questions only she can answer." Nymeria looked down sadly. It's not like she could speak for Briala. Celene and her lover would have to talk things out properly. There was still a chance they could come out of this unscathed.
"If you love her, then have faith in the Maker's will and believe that she will come back to tell you." Krem said quietly.
Celene stared at Krem for a second, astonished at his directness, before nodding.
"You're right." She quickly composed herself upright before adding: "I apologize for taking away your time with my nonsensical doubts."
"You've nothing to apologize for. Just be strong, and have faith in what you believe is right. If you think she is innocent, do your best to prove it. Be strong."
"You're absolutely right; But I need to steel my heart." Celene breathed deeply. "It will be unbecoming for both a lady and a politician to openly weep at every sign of difficulty. If I want to take mother's place next year, I must learn to mask my grievances. Thank you."
Again, Celene curtsied to them, and began to leave the gardens to rejoin her family inside the hotel. Her face regained some color as she prepared to don her regal mask of elegance and formality.
"I wasn't aware you were the sappy sort, Krem Brulee." Bull nudged him as they followed.
"Shut up."
Just then, the walkie-talkie clipped to Bull's belt buzzed loudly:
"Chief? This is dispatch unit A. We've got a crowd. Mostly reporters. They want to know details on the Valmont Murder. The pressure is being laid on pretty thick. What is the status of the situation?"
"Ah, shit." Bull groaned, picking it up and putting it to his mouth. He motioned Krem with his free hand to escort Celene towards the glass doors. "Tell the public that the case is still 'under investigation'. Do not - I repeat - do not state anyone's names. Got that?"
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then the walkie-talkie clicked again:
"Yes, chief."
"Damn." He clipped it back onto his belt and moved closer to Celene, his arms around her shoulders to protect her from the reporters that were emerging in front of the doors. "Here they come. You ready?"
Celene nodded, and remained silent.
Public media pressure was on. They needed the resolve this before things got too complicated.
Together, they walked through the glass doors. Celene remained surprisingly unperturbed during the entire thing. Nymeria was sandwiched between Iron Bull and Krem. Thankfully, Bull's huge physique helped block out most of the cameras. She wasn't fond of having her photo taken. Especially since some of her clan members might see her on TV and ask questions.
The reporters were already hastily firing question after question for Celene to answer:
"IS IT TRUE? FLORIAN VALMONT HAS BEEN MURDERED? PLEASE EXPLAIN!"
"MS. VALMONT, IS THIS CASE IN ANY WAY RELATED TO THE DEATH OF CALIENNE DE GHISLAIN LAST SUMMER? WHAT DOES YOUR MOTHER HAVE TO SAY ON THIS MATTER? IS THIS ANOTHER ONE OF CLARISSE DE MONTFORT'S COVER-UPS?"
"MA'AM, ARE THE RUMORS OF YOUR ENGAGEMENT TO A ELVEN WOMAN TRUE?"
"MS. VALMONT, IF THIS IS ANOTHER VALMONT FAMILY SCANDAL, HOW WILL THIS FARE IN YOUR MOTHER'S POLITICAL TERM AND YOUR OWN FUTURE?"
"I have no wish to discuss my family's private affairs, thank you." Celene replied icily, shoving the microphone away from her face.
"YOUR MOTHER HAS BEEN WORKING HARD TO SUSTAIN YOUR POSITION AS A REPRESENTATIVE IN THE ORLESIAN SENATE. SHE WANTS YOU TO SUCCEED HER AS PRESIDENT. IS THIS TRUE?"
"HOW WILL THIS AFFECT HER CAMPAIGN AND IS IT TRUE YOUR UNCLE AND HIS MISTRESS PLAN ON GIVING YOU THEIR ENTIRE FORTUNE? MS. VALMONT? MS. VALMONT!"
"MS. VALMONT, WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE A STATEMENT ABOUT THE-"
"Vultures, the lot of 'em." Bull muttered, a irritated twinkle in his eyes as he brushed the reporters aside. "Move along, people. Come on."
His bulky size compared to the rest was enough to make a safe passageway for the rest of them. Krem followed in the back while Bull swam across the flood of reporters with their cameras and microphones in the front. Nymeria grabbed Celene by the arm and together they made their way into the main halls of the hotel, where Skinner and Dalish promptly locked the doors the moment they made it through.
"Celene!" Clarisse pulled her daughter towards her. "Are you alright? What did they ask?"
"Questions regarding the case. Don't worry, mother. I said nothing."
"What of the election?"
"Everything is fine, darling. The current numbers suggest you will be able to stay for another term before giving the Presidential seat to Celene." Reynaud nodded, covering his daughter up in his suit jacket.
"But surely we will have to discuss what to say when we arrive back home." Gaspard remarked in disdain. "The Senate will hound us if we don't. Besides, it will be unbecoming to have them remain undisclosed of the details when Florian was such an integral member of the Council. They'll have to find a replacement."
"It is also unbecoming to discuss private family issues with intrusive media vultures." Lady Mantillon cleared her throat behind them. "We will discuss the details with our Senate when we go home. Until then, I suggest we stay clear of the media, and stop talking about it until we are in a more ... private setting."
"You won't be able to leave until we decide we've cleared you of all suspicion." Bull rolled his eyes irritably. Well, just the one eye, really.
"I am aware." Lady Mantillon turned her nose at him indignantly, as if the thought of a Qunari speaking to her was appalling in and of itself.
Nymeria felt a familiar rage stirring within her.
"What about your presidency?" Celene asked Clarisse. "Mother, we've tried so hard. You've only one more year to secure before possibility for your re-election terminates."
"Don't worry, Celene. I've already arranged for everything accordingly. Florian's departure was… unfortunate. But the polls are in and it seems I will indeed be in Val Royeaux for one more year. After that, everything will fall to you, my dear."
Really? This is her primary concern right now? The Orlesian Presidency? What about Briala? Wasn't she just crying about it outside in the garden? Nymeria frowned. It's like she's a different person all of a sudden. Creators, I will never understand politics.
"You've come so far, Celene. I am so proud of you." Lady Mantillon smiled.
"Hush, Adrienne. You're still not out of the boiling pot yet, dear." Clarisse cleared her throat. "Don't forget that you were the one who caused Briala's parents to die in that accident in the first place! If the girl is indeed responsible for Florian's murder, then you are also indirectly responsible!"
"How dare you, Clarisse! I did it to serve our family! What about Calienne, hm? You're the one who - "
"Both of you, stop bickering!" Celene demanded. "I'm not… I don't believe this is the time or place to discuss such things. Besides, with Uncle Florian gone, the Senate will want to have a male equivalent in the seating beside me when I take over. That is more important if you're to really discuss the effects of this debacle."
"Are you proposing marriage, Celene? But to whom?"
"How about Michel de Chevin?"
"He is my bodyguard, mother. Hardly suitor material in the eyes of the Senate."
"But he comes from a noble background, doesn't he?"
"That's debatable." Celene shifted. "Nevertheless, lacking a husband will undoubtedly drop my approval rates from the populace. Perhaps I should take Gaspard up on his offer? He does sway the populace more than I. No, that would be absurd. I've done so much without the presence of a husband; I'm not about to start now."
Nymeria turned her nose up in disgust.
"Marry Gaspard? Why would you even consider - he's your cousin! "
"Actually, it's a bit more complicated than that." Clarisse wrinkled her nose. "He's a distant cousin, more aptly put. Our family tree is rather… tangled. In Orlais some leniency exists for special situations regarding marriage between cousins."
"This doesn't concern you, slant-ear." Lady Mantillon spat.
"Excuse me?" Nymeria's eyes narrowed darkly.
"Adrienne, stop it." Clarisse frowned.
Before an argument - or fight - broke loose, Iron Bull stepped up and cleared his throat.
"Everyone needs to be back in the conference room. Now." He commanded loudly.
He didn't care that Lady Mantillon was not spouting racist remarks about him . He didn't care the Nymeria was scowling. He didn't care about the Valmonts' protests against spending more time in that damned conference room again.
All he wanted was some peace and quiet for Five. Fucking. Minutes.
He was about to tell the Valmonts to shut up when he felt a light tap on his arm and looked down.
Rocky.
"Murder weapon." The dwarf said gruffly. "We think we've got a lead on it."
"You what ?" He felt his heart-rate quicken.
"I'm missing one of woodworking knives." Reynaud stood at the doorway of his room nervously, waving his hand to beckon Bull into his suite. "I usually handle them with care and have them polished after each use. I remember having them last night, but it seems one is missing."
Oh yeah. He could barely stop grinning to himself.
This was going to be good.
